Undressed by the Earl (10 page)

“Indeed.” He spun the teetotum, flicking his wrist to ensure that it landed upon a five. It placed him within three squares of winning the game.

“If your daughter is eleven years old, she won’t want a doll,” Amelia pointed out. “You should buy her dresses more befitting a young woman.”

“She’s still in the nursery,” he felt compelled to answer. “It’s too soon for her to be putting up her hair.”

“Yes, but neither should you treat her like a child.”

“She
is
a child,” he interjected. There were years left before Christine would be old enough to attend a soirée or assembly. He couldn’t even conceive of the moment when she would marry.

“Not for long,” Amelia answered.

“Margaret, darling, may I see you for a moment?” Lady Lanfordshire touched her daughter’s shoulder. “Your aunt and I have something we need to discuss with you.”

Margaret nodded and stood from her chair. “I’m going to remember where those pieces are,” she warned. “No cheating whilst I’m away.”

“Of course,” Amelia said, but David suspected she was cheerfully lying.

Once Margaret was out of earshot, Amelia studied the linen game board. Each of the squares was embroidered with a figure, and from some of the stitches, David suspected that the girls had made it when they were learning to sew.

“There’s another square with the same figure, two rows down,” she whispered, moving Margaret’s maiden there.

“She’s going to know what you’ve done.”

“Of course she will. But where’s the fun in following the rules?” Amelia reached for the teetotum, but he stopped her.

“We’ll wait on your sister to return.”

She sent him a chagrined smile. “You and Margaret are perfectly suited to one another, do you know that? Both of you prefer to obey the rules.”

“I think there’s a rebellious streak within your sister even greater than yours,” he predicted. “She’s not as obedient as she looks.”

He’d met a few women who outwardly followed every rule. No one would have ever expected them to rebel as much as they had.

“You’re wrong.” Amelia moved her tin dog a square forward. “Margaret is excessively obedient, to a fault.”

“And I suspect obedience is a fault that you do not possess.”

She glanced up at him, and her green eyes sobered. “No, I suppose not. I’ve always believed in honesty. Too many women hide behind the rules, afraid to speak their minds.”

He leaned forward. “I believe that is why I like you, Miss Andrews. You would never retreat from the truth.” With her, he was at ease, knowing she didn’t voice falsehoods.

Idly, he spun the teetotum, and the hexagonal top whirled before it landed on a one. She stared down at the board, as if he’d made her uncomfortable with the words. It had been merely an observation; yet, he’d seen the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. Before she could gather a response, he reassured her, “It is good to have an ally and a friend.”

Her shoulders visibly lowered, and she let out a breath. “Allies, yes.” She glanced back at her sister, but David kept his eyes upon her.

Although he knew it was a mistake, he couldn’t stop himself from saying what needed to be said. “As someone who would like to remain your ally and friend, let me offer my advice. Stay away from the viscount, for he’ll only bring you down into ruin. The man doesn’t know when to stop gambling.”

She still wouldn’t look at him. “You may be right. But I believe there is a good man in him. He’s made many mistakes, but that doesn’t mean he’s irredeemable.”

She was far too naïve in the ways of men. Lord Lisford had chosen his own path to ruin, and he didn’t deserve salvation from an innocent like Miss Andrews.

“Some men are better off left alone.” He picked up his game piece, toying with it a moment before he set it back down. “And you should know that they don’t change. No matter what they say.”

“I wish you would stop treating me as if I’m wearing blinders,” she sighed. “I
do
see Lord Lisford’s faults. But I also believe he has a good heart, beneath it all. And that’s worth saving.”

“None of us wants to see you hurt.”

“I know it.” With reluctance, she put Margaret’s game piece back where it had been. “But believe me when I say my eyes are open.”

“The only person who can change the viscount’s behavior is Lord Lisford himself,” he said.

“And what of you, Lord Castledon?” she ventured. “When will you change your ways and start living again?”

Never
, he wanted to say. Too many years had passed, and he’d grown accustomed to being alone. He toyed with his tin knight again, tilting it left and right. “I have no need to change my ways, Miss Andrews. I have several estates in England and in Wales, all of which are prosperous. I provide well for my daughter, and she has everything a girl could want.”

“Except a mother, you mean.” Amelia’s voice was soft, reminding him of his purpose.

“Yes. And that is why I am here. To find a woman capable of mothering my only child.” He suspected Miss Harrow would be the best choice, but it was reasonable to consider other possibilities. “I saw Lady Sarah Carlisle at Lady Rumford’s soirée last night.”

Before he could ask why she was there, Amelia shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Though he wasn’t intending for Lady Sarah to be a matrimonial candidate—especially after what had happened before—it surprised him that Amelia held no sympathy for the young woman’s plight. “You’re judging her based on her brother’s behavior?” He knew that Lord Strathland had been a thorn in the family’s side and that he’d hired men to attack their family. The man had been imprisoned in an asylum for the past four years, from what David remembered.

“I will only say this—Lady Sarah needs to find her own husband without my intervention.” She toyed with her game piece, staring down at the linen. It was the first time he’d seen her this upset, and he couldn’t guess what had happened.

“Let us talk about your matchmaking again,” he suggested. “Do you honestly think Margaret would make a good wife for me?”

Her shoulders relaxed, and he saw that she’d moved her piece forward again. “She might. I do know she would make an excellent stepmother for your daughter. But—” She hesitated as if she didn’t know how to phrase her reservations.

He moved the game piece back where it belonged. “But what?”

She leaned in, dropping her voice low. “What of your needs? Had you considered that you might learn to love someone again?”

He bit back the urge to blurt out a resounding no. “It’s not a requisite for marriage, and I would prefer someone who will content herself with raising a child instead of harboring delusions that I would fall in love with her.”

“Delusions?” Amelia sat back in her chair. “Is that what you think love is?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve been honest about what I want in a future wife. Love cannot be a part of that arrangement.” Once before, he’d had his life ripped asunder because he’d dared to love Katherine. It was better to have a polite companionship instead of a loving marriage. The hole in his life remained, and he doubted if anything could ever fill it.

“Women aren’t like that,” Amelia protested. “A wife wants to know that her husband cares for her. That she is beloved by her spouse.”

“Those are your dreams,” he corrected. “I could name half a dozen women who would be delighted with me if I allowed them to spend my money freely and only spoke to them a few times a year.”

“But is that the kind of woman you want to raise your daughter?”

David let out a slow breath. “I suppose not.” What was best for
him
was not best for Christine. Yet, he didn’t want to wed a young woman with expectations of love or more children. Quite frankly, the thought of consummating the marriage caused him even more reluctance. It had been so long since he’d been with Katherine, it would be hard to push her out of his memory. Not only that, but each year of imposed celibacy had wound him up tighter, until he suspected a woman’s touch would drive him over the edge.

“I will make a promise to you,” Amelia said in a quiet voice, spinning the teetotum. “If you consider courting my sister—or any other woman on the list—I will not wed the viscount until he has paid off every last debt.” She let the spinner fall to the board and added, “And by courting, I mean you should find someone whom you might love again. You don’t have to love her when you wed her. But there should be
something
there.”

“I would rather not wed at all,” he admitted. “But I agreed to bring back a mother for Christine. And that I will do. She needs someone to help her as she moves into her adolescent years.” Although Miss Grant had certainly helped Christine with her studies, the governess was not at all prepared to help his daughter make her debut into society.

Margaret returned to the game table, and she sat beside him. Her cheeks were flushed, and she appeared out of breath. “I am sorry for being away for so long. Aunt Charlotte wanted me to help the boys in a game of blindman’s buff.” She picked up the teetotum and spun it, preparing to take her turn.

“Our game was nearly over anyway,” David said.

“One of us could still win,” Margaret pointed out. “It isn’t your turn yet.”

“Only if I allow you to cheat.” He passed the teetotum to Amelia.

She moved her tin dog three squares ahead and laughed. “There, see! The triumph is mine.”

Upon the embroidered square, he saw the words
Advance to the end
.

“That makes no sense at all. You’re only halfway around the board.”

“It’s a very special square. And so, I claim the victory.” Her mouth curved in a wide smile. “Tomorrow, you will accompany Margaret and me to the tailor’s. You’re going to buy waistcoats in several colors. That will be your forfeit.”

He had a sudden vision of being outfitted with a yellow waistcoat. Wincing, he turned his attention to Margaret. “Is that the forfeit you desire, Miss Andrews?”

“Not at all,” she countered. “Instead, I’d rather save my forfeit and claim it at a time when it’s needed.”

“A favor, then.”

She inclined her head. “There may come a time when I need rescuing from a meddling younger sister.”

True enough. Turning back to Amelia, he said, “I will agree to your forfeit. But you must promise to keep your word as well, regarding Viscount Lisford. You may find that he is not the man you thought he was.”

“Or I might find that he is a man in grave need of saving,” she answered softly.

Chapter Four

M
argaret stepped outside the servants’ entrance of her family’s town house, glancing around to be certain no one saw her. In her palm, she carried the note that she’d received this morning from Cain Sinclair. The Highlander had asked to meet with her, and he claimed that if she did not agree, he would come to the front door and cause a scene.

She fully believed he would, for Sinclair was a man who cared nothing for appearances. When he wanted something, he let nothing stop him.

Margaret tucked a stray strand of hair into her chignon, her cheeks already warming at the thought. For
she
was something he wanted, and he’d made that clear. He’d stolen a few devastating kisses that had made her knees weak. But besides the fact that he was a wild Scotsman with hardly a house to call his own, he was an arrogant man who never listened to a word she said.

Sinclair was waiting for her against the side of the house with his arms crossed. He wore a green-and-brown tartan, while his black hair hung past his shoulders. It gave him the air of a man who only obeyed the law when it suited him.

Squaring her shoulders, she approached him, knowing that he must have a strong reason for coming to see her. The last time she’d seen him, he’d asked—no,
demanded
—that she marry him. He’d never forgiven her for the refusal.

“Good morning, Mr. Sinclair,” she greeted him, as if nothing had happened in the past few years. Better to pretend that all was well. “Would you like to step inside the kitchen and have something to eat?” she offered. Courtesy might soften whatever complaint he had to give.

“I don’t want anything from you, Miss Andrews. I came because I’ll no’ be your errand boy any longer.”

She didn’t understand what he was talking about. “You’re not my errand boy.”

He closed the distance between them, and Margaret forced herself to remain in place. His blue eyes were the color of steel. “Aye, and who’s been delivering all the unmentionables over the years? What will you do when I stop?”

All the blood seemed to drain away from her veins. They relied upon Cain Sinclair to deliver the garments from Scotland to London. Without him, they could no longer keep Aphrodite’s Unmentionables. And though she knew it was a scandalous, dangerous game they were playing, he was earning a good wage for the deliveries.

“Why would you stop?” she asked. “You’ve earned a great deal over the past few years.”

“Aye. But it’s no’ the sort of life I’m wanting. I’ve a younger brother, Jonah, and he shouldna be left alone so often.”

She sobered, for Jonah must be nearly fourteen now. “He’s getting into trouble, isn’t he?”

The rigid cast to Cain’s face told her that she’d guessed correctly. “Aye. And this has gone on long enough. Your family doesna need the money, and the risk of you being discovered is too high. Let it go, lass.”

Margaret let out a heavy breath, for it wasn’t as easy as he might believe. Victoria had begun the sewing business as a means of helping their family survive. The Scottish crofters had helped her increase the quantities, and they had made a good profit over the years. In the past, she’d pleaded with her sisters to end the business, for fear of being discovered. But now, there was a different reason to keep it.

“What about the MacKinloch women?” she asked. “They and their families depend on the sewing for their livelihood.”

He moved beside her, silently asking her to walk with him. Although they remained near the house, she understood the need to avoid eavesdroppers.

“You could sell the business to someone else. Madame Benedict might agree.”

“She would hire local seamstresses, not the crofters’ wives.” Margaret shook her head. “No, it can’t be someone in London.” She stopped walking near one of the tethered horses. “Are you certain you can’t continue? What if you brought Jonah with you?”

“I couldna trust him in London. He’s hotheaded and goes off with nary a thought. And he’s fallen in with the wrong sort of boys.”

She understood his reasons, but her heart sank at the thought of having to find another trusted person to deliver the undergarments from Ballaloch to London. “Whom should we trust, then?” she asked. “It has to be someone who would not compromise our secrecy.” Raising her eyes to his, she added, “You were the one person we trusted without question.”

A hard edge came over his face. “But you didna trust me for more than that, did you, lass?”

Her heart bruised at his words, and she stiffened. She knew who she was: the daughter of a baron. She’d dreamed all her life of wedding a nobleman and living the life of a lady. She’d been groomed to memorize all the rules of etiquette, and she could easily become a duchess or a marchioness.

Everything about Cain Sinclair was forbidden to her. Not only his social class, but also his devil-may-care behavior. Even more, they were worlds apart. He would never understand the intricate social rules she lived by, and if he ever set foot in a ballroom, he would likely behave like a barbarian.

She couldn’t let down her guard for a single second, because he was the sort of man her mother had warned her about—a man who could ruin her. Worse, she was afraid she would like it. He was so passionate, so seductive, it was too easy to let herself fall beneath his spell.

Margaret couldn’t look at him when his hand reached out to cup her cheek. The touch of his callused palm gave a stark contrast between a working man’s hands and her bare skin. “I did trust you,” she whispered. Fumbling for a reason, she added, “You know my family would never allow us to be together.”

“Because I’m no’ a gentleman.”

“No.” She lost her breath when he guided her into the shadow of a horse stall. “You’re not.”

His hand moved down to her throat before tangling in her updo. “And you want a baw-headed cuif who will kiss your hand and bring you posies.” Her knees went weak when Cain moved to speak against her mouth. “I’m no’ that sort of man, lass. And ne’er will be.”

She closed her eyes, wanting to feel his lips upon hers. It had been so long since he’d kissed her last, and she couldn’t deny that he unlaced her sense of propriety. He was untamed, a man who could bring nothing but ruin to her reputation.

And there was no reasoning with this man or trying to teach him proper manners. It couldn’t be done.

“You want a woman who will keep your house and give you a dozen children,” she ventured. “I haven’t the faintest idea how to live like that. It’s not my way.”

“I could teach you how to give me children,” he said, nibbling at her jaw. A shudder of arousal coursed through her, and she cursed the wicked side of herself that wanted him to do just that. The warmth of his breath tingled against her skin. If she turned her face to his, she could taste his kiss once more.

You can’t
, her brain reminded her. And with reluctance, she forced herself to step back.

“We’re too different,” she managed. “As I’ve told you before, you must find someone else.”

“You’re lying to yourself, lass.”

Yes, she was. But she couldn’t let herself even imagine a life with him. He would order her around, shaping her life in a direction she didn’t want. And although she suspected that having a man like Cain in her bed would be breathtaking, it wasn’t worth the perilous price of her virtue.

“I understand about Jonah,” she told him at last. “You’re the only brother he has to look after him. You should go back to Scotland.”

He kept his emotions shielded, as if he sensed her rejection. With a nod, he answered, “So be it.”

He started to walk away, when it occurred to her that she likely would not see him again. The thought was a startling blow, and she blurted out, “Are you leaving right now?”

“Within the fortnight,” he told her. “I’ve a few things I must do here, and then I’ll go.”

She shouldn’t have been so relieved to hear it, but she couldn’t understand the muddled feelings inside her. She didn’t want this man—truly, she didn’t. Why, then, did he cause such strong reactions in her?

She pushed the thoughts away and straightened her spine. “Thank you for all that you’ve done for me and my family.” Without his help, they never could have come this far. “I’ll see to it that you’re paid extra for this last delivery. And if you find any of the MacKinlochs who can be trusted, tell them—”

“No.” He cut her off. “If you’re wanting to find my replacement in Scotland, you’ll have to come and visit yourself.”

She understood, then, what he was saying. He wanted her to join him there, in the Highlands where there were no ballrooms or palaces. No barriers between them except her own inhibitions.

“I can’t,” she said softly. And he knew it. She met his gaze for a long moment, uncertain of what else to say.

“I’m no good at all for you,” he agreed.

Without warning, he took her face between his hands and captured her mouth in a dark kiss that left her reeling. “And that’s why you like me so well.”

“Remind me again why I’ve agreed to do this?” Lord Castledon inquired.

Amelia hid her smile, for the earl looked as if he’d rather be anywhere except at the tailor’s. “Because you promised to pay the forfeit when I won the game.” She took his arm as he accepted the brown paper package that contained several waistcoats in different colors.

“I still don’t understand how you managed to order all of this on my behalf.” He fumbled with the ties on the paper.

She shrugged. “It wasn’t difficult. I simply wrote a note, pretending to be you, and I had my footman deliver it to the tailor. I said he should use whatever measurements he already had. They were quite willing to make them for you.” She shot him a pointed look. “Somehow I rather thought you’d refuse, if I left it in your hands. And if you are serious about finding a bride, you need to abandon your mourning attire.”

Lord Castledon said nothing to that but inspected the contents of the package before handing it over to his footman. With a grimace, he said, “I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t choose orange.”

Amelia decided that was his way of admitting the colors weren’t bad. She had selected dark blue, forest green, cream, and buff for the various waistcoats. “I could have ordered purple. But I am glad you were willing to try another color besides black.”

They were joined by her maid as they continued toward her father’s carriage, where Margaret had agreed to join them. Although it might seem that her sister was to be their chaperone, in reality, it was the reverse.

The early summer day was bright and the skies were a bold blue, unlike the dismal rainy days of April. Amelia leaned back, welcoming the sun on her face. “This is the sort of day that makes me want to take off my shoes and stockings and wade into the Serpentine.”

The earl looked uneasy at her statement. “Your family would be appalled.”

She knew it, and beamed at him. “Which is why it would be great fun.” When he sent her a sidelong look, she added, “Oh, don’t worry. I may be impulsive, but I’m not
that
foolish.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” But he offered her his arm and walked alongside her.

Amelia tried to ignore the strange rush at the feeling of her arm in his. Being this close to him shouldn’t be any different from walking alongside a brother. And yet, she couldn’t deny that her pulse had quickened, as if he made her nervous.

Which was silly. He was going to marry her sister, if she could manage it.

“I know you and Margaret will get on quite well,” she said. “She will make an excellent wife for you.”

“But would she make a good stepmother for Christine?” he countered. “That is far more important to me.”

“You make it sound as if you want a bride in name only.”

The earl’s shrug was not reassuring, as if a new marriage wasn’t at all important to him. But she felt certain that he could learn to love someone.

“Margaret is very sensible and would make a steady wife, one who would never get into trouble,” Amelia informed him. “She’d also take good care of your daughter. I know she wants children.”

And you need an heir
, she thought.

The earl slowed his pace. “That may be. But does she want to marry, after what happened?”

“She does,” Amelia told him. “And I think you’re the sort of man she should have wed a long time ago. You seem kind enough, on the surface.”

He stopped walking. “You make it sound as if I’m a beast, hiding my true nature.”

She stood to regard him. Lord Castledon’s blue eyes were like a glacier, hiding every trace of emotion. “I don’t think you’re a beast. But I do think you’re hiding the man you are.”

He’d been stoic for so many years, practically a statue within the assemblies and balls. Sometimes she wondered why he’d even attended. Had he always been this way? Amelia struggled to remember if she’d ever seen him with his wife, so many years ago. She didn’t think so.

From his demeanor, others likely believed he was a dreadful bore. But the truth was, she’d found his dry wit quite entertaining. For years, when she’d been only sixteen, too young to dance or to be courted, he’d been the shadow behind her.

She wanted him to have a true marriage, not one made of words and no substance. One where he could be happy once more.