My Brown-Eyed Earl (6 page)

“Who are they?” Diana asked.

“My friend Miss Winters and her charge, Abigail.”

“I think she's our age,” Valerie said.

“I believe she is.” Meg cast a glance at the bench behind her where the earl had been joined by a pretty blond-haired woman in a stunning pink gown. The woman slowly twirled a yellow parasol trimmed in delicate lace while she giggled at something Lord Castleton had said. Her maid stood to the side of them, a discreet distance away. No, the earl would not mind if she introduced the twins to Charlotte and Abigail.

He was too busy making his next conquest to notice. In fact, Meg doubted he'd notice if she and the girls toppled head-first into the Serpentine.

“Meg!” Charlotte cried as she approached. “What a lovely surprise.” Pink-cheeked and breathless, she pulled Meg into a quick, fierce hug. “How are you faring—well, I hope?”

She cast a meaningful glance over her shoulder toward the earl. “Quite.”

Charlotte followed her gaze and nodded. “Well, then,” she said to the girls, smiling, “we must all become acquainted, for I've a feeling we'll be spending many afternoons together.”

After introductions, Meg handed the ball to Abigail. “Here, you may take my place in the game. You'll keep up with these two far better than I.”

While the girls played, Meg and Charlotte walked to the shade of a stately oak nearby. “It's so wonderful to see you,” Charlotte said. “You look very well, indeed. Are you happy?”

The question caught Meg off guard. She couldn't very well tell her friend the truth—not after she'd been so kind as to arrange the interview. “I miss Beth and Julie, of course. But the twins are delightful.”

Charlotte raised a brow. “And the earl?”

“So far, we've managed to tolerate each other.”

“What?” Charlotte's forehead knitted. “He hasn't done anything … untoward, I hope?”

“No,” Meg reassured her. “It's not that.” She frowned as the girls drifted across the lawn, farther away from her. “I'm going to bring them back here.” She started toward them, but Charlotte placed a hand on her arm.

“They're fine. Let them enjoy a bit of freedom.”

Meg relaxed. Unlike her, Charlotte knew what she was doing. And the girls
were
in plain sight. “Tell me this gets easier.”

“It does. Building trust takes time.”

Meg nodded but was unsure whether her friend referred to the children or the earl.

“You said that there was some history between you and Lord Castleton,” Charlotte said. “When did you two meet?”

“Ages ago. We used to be neighbors.” Meg glanced back at the earl. He and his beautiful companion had begun strolling down the path by the lake. She might as well tell Charlotte the whole sordid tale. “I was barely fifteen when—”

“Diana!” Valerie shouted. “Stop!” Several yards away, she stared helplessly as her twin sprinted across the park lawn, head down, her new boots churning up the grass.

Meg ran to Valerie's side. “Where's she going?”

“She told us to count how long it takes her to run to the other side of the road and back.”

Meg's heart plummeted. “That's Rotten Row.” She lifted the front of her gown and took off, running after Diana. The little girl seemed oblivious to the phaeton careening down the path, pulled by horses galloping like their tails were aflame.

“Diana!” she cried, shouldering her way past a man puffing on a pipe.

But the girl kept moving, closer to the road and the out-of-control phaeton.

Her slippers slapping the ground as she ran, Meg gasped for air, and called out again, louder. “Diana!”

The little girl stumbled to a stop in the middle of the road. She spun around to face Meg, her blond curls blowing in the breeze. Smiling, she raised her hand to wave.

Then froze.

She stared wide-eyed at the huge horses barreling down the dirt path toward her.

Never in her life had Meg felt so powerless. Not when her parents announced she'd marry a man she barely knew. Not when she'd been forced to leave the only home she'd ever known. Not ever.

She
had
to reach Diana in time.

Meg sprinted. She launched herself at Diana, knocking her off her feet. The girl tumbled into the grass, out of danger.

But Meg's chest slammed onto the dirt, knocking the breath from her lungs. With the horses almost upon her, she struggled to her feet, but her slipper caught on the hem of her dress, and she landed on her knee with a bone-jarring thud.

The ground vibrated with the pounding of hooves. Dear God. She was about to be trampled.

 

Chapter
FIVE

 

Her throat thick with dust, Meg couldn't breathe, much less scream.

She braced herself for the inevitable pain. She wasn't ready to die, and yet—

Whoosh
. A blur of dark green dove in front of the horses' hooves.
Bam
. A large body landed on top of her, forcing the air from her lungs. Strong hands grasped her shoulders and pulled her away from the hooves, the dust, and the danger.

She rolled over the ground like a log, the man on top of her one moment, she on top of him the next. And when they finally jolted to a stop beside a row of prickly hedges, both of them clinging to each other and breathing hard, she was on top.

Meg pressed her hands against the solid wall of his chest, and raised her head to look at her rescuer.

Lord Castleton. Naturally.

He wore a lopsided grin that, in spite of her brush with death, made her very aware that he was a man and she was a woman—lying atop him.

“Are you quite well, Miss Lacey?” A polite inquiry on the face of it, but his arched brow and suggestive tone made it wholly improper.

“I believe so,” she rasped. “But Diana—”

“Is fine.” He pushed himself to sitting, holding her firmly on his lap. Concern darkened his brown eyes. “You, however, seem like you could use a glass of brandy.”

Brandy?
“Not at all. That is, I am concerned for Diana.” She swallowed and closed her eyes briefly, to erase the image of what might have been.

She squashed the strong and sudden urge to cry. What was she doing, pretending to be a governess? Thanks to her incompetence, a little girl had almost died. “I must check on her.”

Meg clambered off the earl, perhaps not as elegantly as she might have, because he swallowed an oath when her knee came in contact with a certain—male—part of his anatomy.

Blast it all. Cringing, she scrambled to her feet and knelt beside Diana. “Let me see you.” Meg placed her palms on the girl's cheeks, studied every inch of her face, and found nary a scratch. “Does anything hurt? Can you move your arms and legs?”

“Of course,” Diana said, out of breath but smiling. “Did you see how fast I ran in my new boots?”

Relief coursed through Meg, but she had to make Diana understand that she couldn't dash off, unchaperoned. And she certainly couldn't run in the vicinity of Rotten Row. “You were very fast, indeed. But I don't think you realize the danger you were in or what could have happened.” Diana's little face crumpled, but Meg pressed on. “Those horses were huge, and you almost—”

“Beat me in a footrace,” Lord Castleton interrupted smoothly.

Meg glanced over her shoulder at the earl, who approached with a slight limp, as though he hadn't quite recovered from the injury her wayward knee had inflicted. “I beg your pardon?”

“Diana almost outran me.”

The girl grinned. “Actually, I
did
outrun you.”

The earl chuckled. “So you did. At least I managed to best Miss Lacey.”

Meg frowned. “This isn't a laughing matter, my lord.” It was bad enough that she'd let it happen. Diana had been in peril—and it was all her fault. “I don't think you should make light of it.”

Lord Castleton gave Diana a conspiratorial wink and jabbed a thumb at Meg. “Sore loser.”

Meg blinked and opened her mouth to scold the earl or Diana or …
someone
. But Diana giggled.

And even if discipline
was
called for, well, the timing seemed all wrong. Something a proper governess surely would have known.

“Meg! Are you all right?” Charlotte hurried across the lawn, Abigail and Valerie in tow. “You took such a tumble!”

“I fear I tackled her,” the earl said without a hint of remorse.

Meg ignored him. “I'm fine. Diana is too.”

“Thank goodness.” Valerie released Charlotte's hand and threw her arms around her sister.

“You're squeezing too hard,” Diana complained to her twin. Looking up at Meg, she asked, “May we go to Gunter's now?”

Meg stood, surprised to find that her knees wobbled a bit. The earl grabbed her elbow, steadying her, while Charlotte fussed over her wrinkled gown and the leaf stuck in her hair.

“Gunter's?” Meg repeated. The girls had been looking forward to it, but she was still worried about Diana. Perhaps they should return to the house and summon a doctor.

She looked to Lord Castleton, but neither his heavy-lidded gaze nor his uncurving mouth gave any indication of his preference. “I don't know.” She turned to Charlotte, hoping that her friend would provide some guidance. What was a governess to do after one of her charges was nearly trampled?

Charlotte gave her an encouraging nod. “It might be just the thing to cheer everyone … if you're sure you're feeling well enough.”

“I am.” The twins began to bounce happily. “It appears the girls are as well. Will you and Abigail join us?”

“I'm afraid we can't. We came to the park for a brief outing but must return home and resume our penmanship lesson.”

The earl nodded approvingly. “It is encouraging to hear that not
all
impressionable girls while away the entire day shopping for gowns, playing ball in the park, and eating ice cream. Your commitment to educating your young charge is to be commended, Miss Winters.”

Charlotte cast Lord Castleton a wary glance. “I know that Miss Lacey is equally committed. It's all a matter of balance, my lord.”

“If you say so.” Inclining his head in her direction, he said, “Good day, Miss Winters. I'm going to bid farewell to a friend, then I'll meet the rest of you at the coach.”

He walked away, his strides a bit shorter and slower than usual. Good Lord, perhaps Meg had injured him worse than she thought.

She held the twins' hands and began walking back across the park. “Please, no more running for today, girls.”

Charlotte shot her a sympathetic smile. “You know, it's not your fault, Meg.”

Well, of course it was. If she couldn't keep them safe, she wasn't fit to be a governess. “To quote the earl, ‘If you say so.'”

“Honestly. It could have happened to me or anyone.
I'm
the one who told you to let them have some freedom, remember?”

“I knew that Diana had new boots and that she wanted to test them out. But I only worried about the Serpentine … it never occurred to me that she'd run—”

“Children are unpredictable. These things happen.”

Meg stopped and faced her friend. “Today's outing could have ended in tragedy, Charlotte. And it happened in my first week as a governess. In front of my employer.”

Charlotte winced. “That part was unfortunate. But you mustn't lose confidence.”

“No danger of that,” Meg replied. “To lose something, you must first possess it.”

Her friend laughed. “Everything's going to work out. You'll see.”

Near a bench beside the water, the earl spoke to the lovely young lady he'd abandoned—temporarily, at least—in order to rescue Diana. And Meg. The blond woman didn't seem to mind his disheveled cravat, grass-stained trousers, or dusty jacket. In fact, she gazed at him with adoration. As though he were some sort of hero.

And he was. Even Meg couldn't deny it. He'd literally swept her off her feet and protected her with his body. His very large, hard, strong body.

“Meg?” Charlotte waved a hand in front of Meg's face.

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you still wanted to meet on Sunday.”

“Oh, yes. Of course.”

Charlotte's brow knit. “You seem a little dazed from that fall. After Gunter's, you should take to your bed and rest until dinner.”

Meg rolled her eyes. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Here comes the earl now. I'll see you soon.”

Charlotte and Abigail waved good-bye to the girls, and Lord Castleton helped the twins into the coach. When he offered his hand to Meg, she pretended not to see it and deposited herself on the seat between the girls. She'd had quite enough physical contact with the earl for one day. Nay, for an entire fortnight.

The twins squirmed on either side of Meg as they debated the merits of potential ice cream flavors. “Someone should invent suet pudding ice cream,” Valerie announced. “I would eat that.”

“As would I,” Diana said with a shrug. “But it's rather boring. I should like to taste something more exciting, like cricket leg ice cream.”

“You would not,” Valerie retorted.

“How do you know?”

Their friendly bickering reminded Meg of her own sisters, and she smiled; but a glance across the coach revealed the earl was not similarly amused. With his crossed arms, clenched jaw, and brooding stare, he was the picture of intimidation. A chill raced down her spine.

Meg couldn't fault him for being angry with her. She was angry with herself. And she owed the earl an apology.

As the coach started rolling down the street, Meg cleared her throat. “My lord,” she began.

He blinked and dragged his gaze away from the storefronts that glided past his window. “What is it, Miss Lacey?” He spoke with the exasperation of someone interrupted in the middle of a particularly vexing math problem.