Intentions of the Earl (4 page)

The paintings looked like children had taken
mud and smeared it around on three canvasses; and not in a somewhat
interesting way, either. They were a mix of brown, black, and dark
spinach green swirled together. In short, they were eyesores.

He violently jerked his head away and dropped
his gaze to the floor and was greeted by lime green carpet. “I hope
this drawing room is not a prelude to what the inhabitants are
like,” he mumbled with a shudder.

“I am hurt, sir, truly hurt,” Brooke said
shrilly as she entered the room. Her words must have caught him off
guard because he looked completely frozen in place. Before he could
say so much as one word in his defense, she said, “How can you say
such awful things about this beautifully decorated room? I worked
so hard on it. It is my masterpiece! I spent hours picking the
perfect gold wallpaper. Then, I pondered for weeks about those
purple drapes. When I went to pick a settee, I was split between
the red and pink settee. So to cure my indecision, I opted to get
both.”

He was still standing with his back to her,
perhaps he was too nervous to turn around, Brooke thought. But
slowly he did turn around and when he was fully looking at her, his
mouth dropped open a bit before he shut it with an audible snap. He
just swallowed loudly then stared at her, not even trying to
speak.

Brooke had often been considered attractive
with her heart shaped face and petite facial features. Her hair was
a dark mahogany brown and she typically piled it atop her head with
curls cascading down in the back and on either side of her face.
Her eyes were so dark they almost looked black. Often, that was her
feature about which gentlemen wrote silly poetry.

Seeing just another speechless man stare at
her was not going to deter her from her fun. She put a look of true
pain on her face, one that would suggest he had just kicked a puppy
in her presence. She pointed to the back wall where those hideous
mud-smear paintings were hung. “Would you like to tell me your
delightful opinion about those portraits hanging on the far wall,
sir? I am waiting on edge to hear your thoughts.”

“Miss Banks,” the stranger hedged. “I’m
sorry. I seem to have spoken without much thought. I cannot tell
you how sorry I am. Please forgive me.”

“Well, you’re not forgiven,” she exclaimed.
“To just come into someone’s house and start to criticize their
decorations; and then to liken them to the inhabitants of the house
is inappropriate.” Brooke was enjoying the look on his face. He
looked absolutely remorseful, almost like a little boy being
scolded for stealing sweets out of the kitchen. Best yet, he had no
idea she was leading him on. That drawing room was horrific, nobody
could argue with that, and if her family had been allowed to change
it, that room would have been changed before the front door shut.
But her aunt and uncle would not allow them to make modifications
to the house; therefore, all ten of her family’s eyes were forced
to suffer inhumanely.

Although the drawing room was ugly, it was
not the ugliest room in the house. She and her sisters couldn’t
decide which room took that particular prize, but the drawing room
was not it.

Brooke stood stock still, trying to look like
she was still deeply wounded by his opinion; but really she just
wanted to see him squirm a minute longer before either of her
sisters or Mama came in. She decided to press the topic of the
paintings. “Furthermore, sir, you did not do as your hostess asked.
You still have yet to render your opinion on those portraits.”

Their guest flushed with uncertainty.

Brooke knew those paintings were an ugly mess
that no artist would want to claim—unless said artist was three
years of age. She also knew that if he were to be honest about
those paintings he’d say they looked like a monkey painted them.
Her whole family knew she thought so. But she could tell he was too
much of a gentleman to say that. He was probably afraid of hurting
her feelings or upsetting her and being tossed out on his ear.

“They are, well, they are very unique,” he
said tactfully.

“Do you truly think so?” she cried,
suppressing a laugh at his bold face lie. “I worked so hard on
them. My family doesn’t seem to appreciate them, but I think
they’re just blind to true beauty. I’m so glad you see them as
unique! What do you like best about them?” Brooke loved this game.
She played it all the time when gentlemen came to visit. Her mother
and sisters did not approve, but she couldn’t help herself, it was
too much fun. She tried to keep a straight face and not laugh at
his discomfort. She especially loved that the poor man had no idea
that even if he’d kept his mouth shut about the ghastly room, he’d
still be having this conversation.

He kept staring at the paintings. Brooke
supposed he was hoping the floor would open up and swallow him
whole. “I like all if it. It’s hard to pick out what I like best,”
he finally said with as much excitement as one would have when
going to the tooth drawer.

“Do you truly mean it?” Brooke cooed. “I am
so happy to hear you say that, it was very sweet.” She took a
couple steps toward him and smiled broadly before admitting, “At
first, I didn’t think I was going to like you very much. You
insulted my decorating style and me at the same time, and all
before we had even met. But now that I know how much you love my
artwork, well, I think I have revised my opinion.”

Taking a low bow, he said, “I am Andrew
Black, Earl of Townson. I do not believe I have had the pleasure of
meeting you before.”

“No, I don’t think we’ve met before,” Brooke
replied. Surely if they’d met she would remember him.

For the first time since she walked in the
room she saw him. Sure she saw him before, but now she really saw
him. She noticed his jet black hair with a few gray hairs scattered
here and there, mostly around his temples. He was tall, taller than
most, and had a broad form. In this room he looked positively
domineering, but he wasn’t using his size to try to intimidate her
like some would have at this point.

Gazing at his face, she liked that it was
different than a lot of the other gentlemen she’d met in London.
His nose wasn’t perfectly straight; it looked almost like it had
been broken before. He had a strong chin and full lips. The color
of his skin was not pale like most of the English, but rather honey
colored, as if he had seen a lot of sun. By some standards he would
be considered handsome; but not to all women, just certain ones,
the ones that were more into the exotic look.

One of his dark eyebrows rose and she
registered he knew that she was mentally cataloging him. But
instead of averting her eyes in embarrassment, she met his. When
she did so, she was startled. He had the most beautiful blue eyes
she’d ever seen. They were not the light blue that was common,
rather they were a deeper, darker blue; looking into their depths
reminded her of the deep blue ocean she’d crossed just weeks
before. After seeing those eyes, she realized instantly she was
indeed one of those women who found him handsome.

“Have I passed your inspection?” he asked, a
hint of amusement in his voice.

His question broke into Brooke’s thoughts and
startled her. She was generally not one to be embarrassed when
caught doing something considered impolite, so she gave a lopsided
shrug and said, “You’ll do I suppose.”

The earl shook his head and shot her a half
smile. That’s when she noticed his smile. He had a beautiful smile.
His white teeth were a startling contrast against his tanned skin.
She liked his smile and decided she was going to do her best to see
it again before he left today.

With that decided, Brooke’s mind went back to
wondering why this handsome stranger was here. Who had he come to
see? She had never met him before, nor had she heard either of her
sisters talk of him. But he had to be here to see one of them;
surely he wasn’t here to see Mama or Papa.

Which sister could it be? Madison was the
most beautiful of the three by far. Madison was tall and slender,
with bright blonde hair and clear blue eyes, like their father. Her
skin wasn’t pale, but it wasn’t as tanned as Brooke’s. She had
always had a way with wooing a roomful of men just by walking in,
and if that wasn’t enough to make all the other women jealous, she
had this ability to make any outfit look fit for a queen, no matter
the color or condition of the fabric. Her personality only made her
more beautiful. She was always genuine in her friendships and was
ready with a kind word when someone she loved needed support. But
even though she was the most beautiful of the three, she was also
the most withdrawn. She hated to dance, and would hardly say two
words to any gentleman that approached her. In fact, she did her
best to make it known she had no desire for an introduction.
Certainly the earl did not find that encouraging enough to
call.

Liberty, on the other hand, was no raving
beauty. She was the type that most considered to be plain. Not
ugly, not pretty, just plain. Her hair was not considered an
exceptional color; it was just ordinary, light brown, which matched
her ordinary, hazel eyes. Her nose was too big, her teeth weren’t
perfect, or even straight if the truth be known, and she could
afford to gain at least a stone. Unfortunately, her personality
didn’t really make up for her physical shortcomings. Normally, when
someone wasn’t considered attractive they would have a great
personality to recommend them, but not Liberty. Not that she was a
shrew, but she was too blunt by far, and usually not in a good way.
Brooke knew she was too blunt too, but most people did not take
offense to what she said since it was usually done in good fun.
Liberty’s comments, though not always intentional, had a way to
irritate a person beyond belief. Only her family members got to
know the real Liberty, the one full of love and compassion, surely
the earl hadn’t discovered that side of Liberty yet.

Still trying to puzzle out which of these
demeanors would bring the earl to call, her mother and sisters
walked in, startling them both and effectively ruining the
moment.

***

“You know you’re not supposed to be alone
with a gentleman, Brooke” broke into the silence from an unexpected
source. Andrew would have believed that Mrs. Banks would have said
that; but instead, that statement of reproof was made by a young
girl who looked barely out of the schoolroom.

“Indeed? I’m not? I had no idea!” Brooke
cried with so much bravado, that Andrew almost believed her. But
her next statement revealed to Andrew that sarcasm was just part of
her personality. “Really, Liberty, you are too obsessed with the
rules. We were doing nothing wrong and it was only for a couple of
minutes anyway,” she said with a dismissive flick of her wrist.
Glancing around to read the look on her mother’s face, she added,
“And we left the door open. I don’t see anything wrong with that.
Do you, Mama?”

“You’re not supposed to be alone with a
gentleman, you know that. And exactly, who is this gentleman?” Mrs.
Banks asked coolly.

Before Brooke could answer, Andrew gave a low
bow. “Andrew Black, Earl of Townson. I have come to call upon your
daughters, madam.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Banks cried excitedly, “how
wonderful, an earl has come to call on
my
daughters!” Then,
so caught up in the excitement she abandoned the rules of society,
polite or otherwise, and asked, “Which one of my lovely girls have
you set your striking eyes upon?”

Andrew’s lips twitched at Mrs. Banks
outrageously bold question. Her daughters, however, groaned in
unison.

Andrew wasn’t sure how much they actually
knew about polite society and that usually gentlemen did not call
on ladies they had never met before. Judging by Mrs. Banks’
question, he thought they probably didn’t know. Yet, the youngest
Miss Banks was looking at him with genuine curiosity while she
waited for him to answer. Deciding it best to give an infallible
answer, he evenly said, “I have come to call on all of them. They
all seem like lovely ladies. How could I leave one out?”

Mrs. Banks started to titter and coo like the
young debutante all women of her age yearned to be. With every eye
on her, no one remarked on Brooke’s quick exit.

Miss Liberty was not swayed. “How do you know
we are all lovely ladies, my lord? I do not believe that
we
have ever been introduced before.”

She was right of course, but to admit that he
had never met any of them would only be greeted by more questions.
Questions he had no desire to answer, or dodge. He had to think of
something fast. But he wasn’t given a chance before Mrs. Banks
smoothly broke in and rescued him. “Now, Liberty, give the man a
little break. He was just trying to save himself from the sticky
situation I inadvertently set him up for. You know, back home we
call it ‘pleading the fifth’. Here in England there is no such
thing; so a man, or woman, has to try to use their words and wit to
keep from saying too much and telling on themselves.” Then Mrs.
Banks did the most unusual thing, she winked at him!

Andrew had a vague idea of what they were
talking about. He’d heard something about Americans being able to
not incriminate themselves in courts, but never in everyday
conversations. He could ponder that and the reason for the wink
later. Right now he was trying not to say too much and give himself
away. He had a feeling that if little Miss Liberty Banks knew that
he had never been introduced to, or even seen, any of them before,
she was going to have a fit of epic proportions. Best keep that
little nugget of information to himself.

The middle Banks sister, who he’d barely
noticed up until this time, stepped forward. She gave him the
biggest, prettiest smile he had ever seen; then set him up for
complete disaster. “Oh how wonderful, he has an interest in
Brooke,” she exclaimed with an expression of pure joy on her
face.