The Earl's Passionate Plot (10 page)

Miss Langley seemed very pleased with herself, sitting there beside her curate, dressed in a rather revealing sage-colored gown that showed off her milky complexion and made the green of her eyes sparkle like emeralds. Her smiles were sparkling, too, as she tossed her fair curls and laughed at every inane little thing Mr. Skrewd mumbled at her. Dovington could have choked the young man, if he wasn't certain lightning would come out of the sky and smite him for such a thing. Hell, he likely deserved smiting simply for the things he was thinking right now.

He wanted to wipe those dazzling smiles right off Miss Langley's face, to haul her off into some dark, distant recess of this house and make her forget all about her fresh-faced
, doting cleric. What sort of vixen was she, anyway, that she could kiss Dovington with such willful abandon in one moment, then instantly turn and throw herself at the reverend in the next? And why, in God's name, if she must throw herself at someone, would she choose Mr. Skrewd?

There was one good thing from it, though. With Mr. Skrewd yapping at her side she found very little time to foolishly try to fling Miss Vandenhoff at Dovington's feet. Oh, she was doing her best to keep the heiress cheerful and drawn into whatever conversation circulated in their area of the table, but due to the seating arrangement that kept her fairly limited to promoting discourse between her sister, Miss Vandenhoff, and the virtuous curate. He, of course, was fairly beaming at the attentions of so many young ladies.

Dovington was left to concentrate on facilitating pleasantries between Ned and the older members of their group. It was the perfect opportunity to see that his cousin was firmly planted in Mr. Vandenhoff's good graces. He had to credit the young man for playing his part well. Ned gave due reverence to the Vandenhoffs and was especially attentive to their hostess, Mrs. Renford. By the time the final courses were brought out, it was clear she sat firmly in his pocket. Surely Mr. Vandenhoff would admire such behavior and want no one better for his son-in-law.

All that was needed now was to give the young people some time together and victory would be won.
Dovington could make whatever arrangements were required, get Ned properly married, then rid himself of Miss Langley and her distracting complexion. And other parts.

Mariah declared dinner a success. In her own mind, of course, but clearly things were going much, much better than they had last night. Mr. Skrewd proved a delightful addition to their group and Miss Vandenhoff was almost to the point of being pleasant. Perhaps her earlier discontent had been all owing to the burden of travel, after all.

The gentlemen had not kept the ladies waiting long before joining them in the drawing room after dinner and the atmosphere was still jovial and inviting. Ella was graciously keeping Miss Vandenhoff entertained as they turned pages in the large book of dogs that had been left out. Mr. Skrewd and Mr. Chadburne had at first been in conversation with the other men, but some pages of various hunting breeds attracted them and they were peering at pages over the shoulders of the ladies. Mamma and Mrs. Vandenhoff were engaged in motherly chatter until Mr. Vandenhoff was required to assist his wife in some recollections of the specific pattern for his mother's china back in New York. Mamma had a special place in her heart for such subjects, so she peppered the gentleman with question after question, keeping him occupied far longer than he clearly expected.

This left Mariah and Lord Dovington noticeably unattached. She tried not to appear nervous as he moved toward her. She was already nestled into a corner where she had gone to retrieve her mother's sewing basket so, unfortunately, there was little she could do to escape the man.

He loomed over her and she feverishly recited in her mind all her vows and grievances against him. They did little to counteract the effect of his dark, all-seeing eyes and the heat radiating from him. She tried to sit up very tall in the straight-backed chair she had chosen. No way was she going to let him see her as tiny and helpless. She should have selected a ladder, she supposed. The slow grin that spread over his face reminded her of an etching she'd seen depicting a tiger about to pounce on a helpless baby deer.

"You are not perusing the book of dogs," he noted. He voice was low and growling, as if his simple statement harbored some deeper, mysterious meaning.

"I've read it before."

"But apparently your curate has not. Pity he's left with the others to introduce him to it."

"I'm quite positive both my sister and Miss Vandenhoff are competent readers, sir."

"I'm sure they are. They appear competent at other things, as well. Aren't you concerned?"

"Concerned for what? It's not likely they'll build a fire on the book and catch the house ablaze."

"There are more destructive types of fire, Miss Langely, as I know for a fact you are well aware."

"Whatever are you talking about?"

It had probably been a bad idea to ask that. He leaned in closer to her and whispered. His words fell over her as tangibly as if he had touched her.

"Do not pretend you felt nothing in my arms today. You may deny for everyone else, but you can never deny it for me. I know the passion that burns in you, my dear. I just wonder if Mr. Skrewd knows of it, too."

Oh no! Why was he doing this?
Did he fear she was not doing her best to help his cause? Or was he the tiger, indeed, toying with his pray simply for the sport of it? Either way, she refused to cower before him. They were not alone in some romantic setting where he could employ his schemes to entrap her. This was her house, her own mother was just steps away, and she was not to be bullied by this man, no matter how foolish her actions had been today.

"
What Mr. Skrewd does or does not know about me is hardly any of your concern," she snipped at him. "Don't you have your own business to attend?"

"You mean Miss Vandenhoff? You worry that I am not fawning over her or making cows eyes like some mutton-headed dolt?"

"I worry you are ignoring her and not attending her as a gentleman ought to attend a young lady who has captured his affections."

"Well, there's an easy answer for that, Miss Langley. You see, I have no affection at all for Miss Vandenhoff and I don't care that she knows it. I hate to tell you, but if you think I am here to snag her for myself, you are entirely mistaken."

"What? You don't intend to... but why then? Why have you brought them here?"

"For my cousin, of course. Look at him, he's doing his duty and making a fuss over the ladies
, making nice that Miss Vandenhoff cannot possibly dismiss. He is the future of the Dovington title, Miss Langley. Not me."

"But
you
are the earl. Why would Miss Vandenhoff wish to marry your cousin if you have the title?"

She was more than confused now and it was quite a struggle to keep her voice low. No one seemed to have noticed them yet, and the earl reached to examine the embroidery she'd laid out on her lap. She knew he couldn't care less for her needle work, but it was good that he seemed to have some innocuous reason for his nearness to her just now.

"I intend never to marry," he said in a harsh whisper. "If you'd ever once met my father, you'd understand. I've nothing to give to my family tree but bitterness and failing, but I'm man enough to admit it. My father's line ends with me, and my cousin will be the one to carry it on. I'll do what I can to correct my father's mistakes, but once I'm gone it will be Ned to continue the name."

It took a few moments of silence for his words to sink into her brain and make sense. What on earth could she say after this revelation? It was stunning, to say the least. To think that this man should give up any hopes of a future just because of the hateful things his father had done... incomprehensible.
She wished it did not sound so very gallant and noble to her.

"You should have told me who
m I was supposed to be matching up, my lord."

"All I asked of you was to be a good hostess and to help Miss Vandenhoff appear at her best. You should not have p
resumed to know what I planned."

She couldn't resist forcing a smug grin for him. "But I did presume, sir, and it was exactly what you had planned, wasn't it? I simply guessed the wrong partner."

"So you did. And do you supposed you've guessed any better for yourself?"

"Excuse me?"
She kept the smile on her face just in case someone might glance up from their current entertainments and wonder what they could possibly be discussing in such low, furtive tones.

"Your curate there. Are you so convinced that he'll marry you?"

Of all the nerve! Her heart thudded in her chest and her emotions warred. She didn't know if she felt fury that he would suggest she might not be good enough for Mr. Skrewd, or shame that what he suggested was true. She wasn't suitable for any decent gentleman's wife, not even the penniless curate. She was a bastard, and she'd proven today that the same wanton passion that had led to her unintentional existence ran unchecked in her blood.

The earl was correct. She could never
marry anyone. It was a truth she had always known, always accepted. Why today it should suddenly hurt her so very badly she had no idea. Her eyes burned, but she glared at him all the same.

"What I do with Mr. Skrewd is my business and none of yours," she hissed out at him, still keeping that smile firmly in place. "Your business is to
hire your nephew out for stud and then get yourself out of my house. All of you."

His eyes were fixed
firmly on hers and he gave no indication at all that her words shocked or insulted him.

"It's
my
house, Miss Langley. I'll make myself at home here as long as I like."

"Then I suppose once things are settled with Miss Vandenhoff, I'll have to make sure you don't like."

He leaned even closer and his voice was barely audible now, but she heard him. She recognized the challenge.

"Don't play this game with me, Miss Langley. You showed your hand today, if you recall. There's very little you c
an do to me that I won't like, and very much I can do that you
will
."

His hand brushed over her cheek just enough to cause the temperature in the room to suddenly elevate.
She knew he was right. Her threats were empty and there was very little she could do that might provide enough pressure or guilt or even discomfort to cause him to give up Renford Hall. She doubted any more positive form of influence would have any effect, either. A hundred secret kisses would never persuade him to leave them in peace, but it certainly would shatter hers forever. For all intents and purposes, her battle was already lost.

"
You're certainly welcome to try, though," he added, finally backing away so that she could breathe freely again.

Once again she amazed him with her will and her unshrinking determination. He could see that his words stung her, but she would not back down. What sort of fiend was he that he felt so compelled to subdue her, to stand over her and make veiled threats and insinuations? He supposed he was just as he'd told her; he was his father's son and could hardly expect anything good of himself.

Here they were in polite company, surrounded by family and guests, and still he could barely restrain himself from sweeping her into his arms and taking up where the curate's dog had disrupted them earlier. She would hate him for it, of course, but he hardly cared about that. He'd tapped into an inferno inside of her and he knew he could do it again. In spite of herself, Miss Langley was a creature of passion and Dovington was not above using that against her.

Although why on earth would he? She knew the truth of his schemes now and it was in her best interests to play along. She'd see that Ned and Miss Vandenhoff were put together as often as possible and if tonight's harmonious interplay was any indication, things were well on their way toward the goal. As Miss Langley had said, she wanted them out of her house. Dovington realized as well as she did that the best way to accomplish that was to bring those two together and rush them off to the altar.

There was no reason at all for Dovington to leer at her and torment her for her designs on the curate. They must be more than designs, too, given the pain he saw flash over her face when he questioned the man's intentions toward her. She must honestly care for him.

Only a beast would attack a lady on such a tender subject, and yet he had done so. It was all he could do right now not to attack her again, to remind her that by her very nature she had far more in common with a scoundrel like him than the righteous Mr. Skrewd. All it would take were a few kisses, some moments of burning caress, and she would be forced to admit the truth.

By God, he needed to get away from her. With his mind wandering in such ways, there was little he could do but ruin anything good that had begun to crop up around them. Acting on impulse he would scandalize his cousin, offend the Vandenhoffs, and ruin a woman who did not deserve to be ruined. Just as he'd always known, he was flawed to the core and there was no place for him in gentle society.

Tomorrow he would leave. Yes, he'd take himself away before he did anything more foolish and destructive than he already had. Miss Langley would continue her efforts to connect Ned with Miss Vandenhoff, and by the day of that silly ball they had planned, everything should fall into place.