My Brown-Eyed Earl (5 page)

“I am not some mistress that you can dress like a doll,” she sputtered. Had she been reading his thoughts? “And while you may be my employer, you have
no
say over what I choose to wear.”

He eyed her unfortunate excuse for a dress. It flattered her figure about as much as a monk's robe. “You're not honestly telling me you
choose
to wear a gown the unappetizing shade of a mushroom?”

She crossed her arms, challenging him. “Actually, I am.”

They stared at one another for several moments. Will couldn't say exactly what was happening between them, but he hadn't felt so alive, so invigorated in … forever.

“Very well then,” he conceded, for even the best generals knew when to retreat. “You can purchase a mud-colored bonnet to match.”

“No thank you.” She batted thick lashes and flashed a mockery of a smile. “I already own one.” She snatched her papers off the desk, clutched them to her chest, and stormed past him. “You know, on second thought,” she called over her shoulder. “I probably
should
take the girls to a modiste. And to the milliner's. And to the book shop as well.”

Holy hell. He waved an arm at the book-covered walls surrounding them. “What about all these?”

“I assume you will spare no expense when it comes to the girls' education?”

“No, but—”

“I thought not,” she said smugly.

“In fact, I think it's important that I join you for a shopping trip of this magnitude.” What in God's name was he saying?

She snorted, incredulous. “Surely you have more important things to do.”

About a dozen. “No.”

With a huff, she marched back to him and raised her chin. She stood so close that he could see the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the flecks of gold in her eyes. The corner of her pretty mouth curled into a smile.

As if she knew the mesmerizing effect she had on him.

“Since you are at our disposal—” she began.

He frowned. “I didn't say that.”

“We will make a day-long outing of it. After we make our
many
purchases”—she tapped a slender finger on her chin—“we shall take the girls to Hyde Park for fresh air and a chance to play.”

“Play? Shouldn't they return to the nursery to memorize poems or something?”

“And after the park, we shall stop at Gunter's for ice cream.”

He opened his mouth to object, but then he imagined Miss Lacey, closing her eyes in ecstasy as she savored a creamy spoonful of ice cream. Six hours of carrying parcels might be worth that one moment.

“What's your favorite flavor?” he asked, the huskiness of his voice betraying his wickedness. “Peach? Orange? Or something more exotic … like jasmine?”

She shot him the blistering look mastered by governesses the world 'round. “You,” she said evenly, “will never—ever—know.”

 

Chapter
FOUR

 

“Oh, look at this one!” Valerie pointed to a sapphire silk evening gown in the fashion magazine she and her sister leafed through. “So pretty.”

“You'd only spill jam on it,” Diana said.

“I suppose you're right.” Valerie sighed.

Meg thanked the shopkeeper, who was wrapping several items for them, and placed a hand on Valerie's shoulder. “It
is
a very fancy dress.”

“That's what I told her!” Diana shook her head like a dowager duchess frustrated by the frivolities of the young.

Meg let her fingers trail over the magazine page, tracing the delicate beading at the bottom of the gown. “However, I think every girl deserves to have at least one fancy dress in her armoire. Why don't we ask the dressmaker if she could fashion something in a similar shade of blue—to match your pretty eyes?”

Valerie's chest swelled and her eyes shone as she nodded, as though she was too overcome to speak.

“Shall I add a blue gown to your order?” The shopkeeper winked at Meg. “Something suitable for a princess's tea party?”

“Please.” Meg squashed the guilt niggling at her belly. The earl could afford it. “And shall we find something equally fancy for you, Miss Diana?” Meg flipped the pages of the magazine, hoping to entice her.

“No, thank you. I like the gowns we picked out. And the hats and gloves and stockings. But I
love
my new boots.” She extended her foot and swiveled her ankle, admiring a tiny forest green half-boot. I can't wait to see how fast I can run.”

“Let's try to keep the mud off of them for a day or two at least,” Meg teased.

“What about you, Miss Lacey?” Valerie fingered a swatch of deep rose silk on the counter as she gazed up at Meg. “Do you have a fancy dress in your armoire?”

“Me?” Meg chuckled as she glanced down at her faded lilac gown. “I'm afraid not.”

“Shouldn't you have at least one?”

Behind the counter, the shopkeeper coughed into her hand, as if to second Valerie's suggestion.

Meg tore her eyes away from the stylish designs gracing the pages of the magazine. She'd love nothing more than to own a gorgeous gown that was made especially for her, in a shimmery fabric that would sparkle in the candlelight as she twirled around a ballroom. How lovely would it feel to have silk skimming over her skin and swirling about her legs while she moved in time to the music?

But it was a secret desire—one Meg barely admitted to herself.

“Governesses have no need of ball gowns,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Neither do six year olds,” Diana pointed out. She grabbed the silk swatch from her sister and thrust it beneath Meg's chin, as the dressmaker had done for the girls earlier. “This color looks pretty with your hair. See?”

Meg hazarded a glance in the looking glass on the counter. The fabric
was
a delectable shade of pink. “Nonsense.”

“It's not,” Diana pouted. “You said every girl should have one fancy dress.”

“I must agree,” Lord Castleton interjected, startling them all. He strode into the shop and joined them at the counter.

Meg had almost—but not quite—forgotten he waited for them outside. He'd escorted them on all their errands that morning but had opted to remain in the coach while the girls ordered their dresses. He must have grown very weary of waiting if he'd deemed it necessary to enter this eminently feminine realm.

Ironically, surrounded by snippets of lace, silks, and frippery, he looked larger, more masculine, than ever.

Meg closed the fashion magazine and slid it aside. “I apologize for the delay, my lord. Our purchases are being wrapped, and we shall be ready momentarily.”

“Do not think to change the subject, Miss Lacey,” he said smoothly. “Your charge here…”

“Diana,” she provided.

Inclining his head, he continued, “Diana makes an excellent point. You
should
have one nice gown.”

“That is none of your concern,” Meg said evenly. She mustn't lose her temper in front of the twins. “Besides, this shopping trip is for
the girls
.”

“True. But it seems as though
the girls
wish for you to have a new dress.” He pointed at the square of rose silk that Diana held. “What's that?”

“A fabric sample.” Diana raised it to Meg's shoulder. “Wouldn't this look pretty on Miss Lacey?”

Valerie sighed dreamily. “Divine.”

Meg plucked the silk from Diana's fingers and returned it to the counter. “Look, our packages are ready. Let's ask the footman to load them onto the coach, shall we?” Grabbing one hand of each twin, she started toward the dress shop's door.

Only to be blocked by the earl. Or, more precisely, his torso. His very broad, very hard, and very immovable torso.

“What is your rush, Miss Lacey? This outing was meant to be productive, but fun as well—was it not?”

“Yes, of course.” Meg could feel the twins gazing up at her, anxious to see how she'd fare in a minor power struggle with Lord Castleton. “However, if you'll recall, we have a rather full schedule.”

His mouth curled in amusement. “Are you always so regimented … so rigid?”

Meg bristled. Perhaps she was a bit … inflexible. But so much of life was outside of one's control. She saw no harm in maintaining order where possible. “Some of us,” she ground out, “do not have the luxury of indulging every whim, nor the freedom to blow wherever the wind takes us.”

“Like a dandelion seed?” Valerie interjected.

Meg squeezed her little hand. “Exactly.”

“I'm not suggesting you abandon your duties, steal away on a ship, and sail to the West Indies, for God's sake. I'm merely encouraging you to take the same advice you gave the girls. Order one fancy gown to keep in your armoire.”

“Why?” A pretty dress wouldn't stop the ton from ridiculing her and her sisters. It wouldn't transform her from a wallflower to a diamond of the first water.
Why
did he care?

“Because even though you think it's frivolous and extravagant, you might need it one day.” He leaned toward her slightly. “You might
want
it.”

Lord help her, she did. But even more than she wanted a pretty gown for herself, she wanted one for each of her sisters. Maybe she should let the earl buy her a gown so that she could give it to them. It would be too short for Julie, but Beth could wear it, and perhaps add some lace to the bottom to make it work for Julie too.

Her heart may have been tempted, but pride was in control. “While I appreciate your concern for my hypothetical needs and wants,” she said stiffly, “I can assure you that an elegant gown would serve me no purpose beyond collecting dust and attracting moths.”

The earl seemed to consider this as he crossed his arms, his wide shoulders and muscular biceps testing the seams of his dark green, tailored jacket. His eyes, brown as melted chocolate, searched her face with an intensity that unsettled her. He didn't understand why she defied him, couldn't accept it. And something in his gaze told her that he would not be content until he knew all her secrets—the fears and desires she held so closely that not even her sisters were aware of them.

A shiver ran the length of her spine, but she would not yield, nor would she apologize.

An odd combination of puzzlement and hurt flashed across his face so quickly she might have imagined it. He pressed his lips together, then nodded—a silent admission of defeat.

Why, then, did she not feel victorious?

“I have no wish to contribute to the proliferation of dust and moths in your armoire,” he said with a wry smile. Turning his attention to the girls, he added, “Having survived the ordeal of dress shopping, I think we have earned a visit to the park. What do you say?”

“Yes!” they exclaimed in unison.

“I'll let the footman know the packages are ready,” Meg offered.

“No need.” Lord Castleton shot a charming grin at the shopkeeper as he scooped up their purchases and marched toward the shop door. The shopkeeper gripped the edge of the counter as though she feared she'd swoon, while another of the shop's patrons fanned herself—vigorously.

Meg wanted to roll her eyes. So the earl carried a few packages. That hardly qualified him for knighthood.

“Are you coming, Miss Lacey?” he called over his shoulder. “If you've reconsidered and have decided to order a gown, we'll be happy to wait.”

“No,” she said through gritted teeth. “I'm quite done with shopping.”

*   *   *

Meg would have liked to cling to her contrary mood for the remainder of the afternoon, but the glorious spring day made it nigh impossible. As she, Lord Castleton, and the girls strolled along the pebbled footpath in the dappled shade, a warm breeze eased some of the tightness from her shoulders. The earl steered their little group to a bench at the edge of the Serpentine and waved an arm at the surrounding lawn. “Ladies, how do you fancy this spot?”

“Perfect!” Valerie said.

Diana tossed a ball from hand to hand. “
Now
may we play?”

“Of course,” Meg said with a smile. “Shall we have a game of catch?”

“Yes!” the girls cried in unison.

“Not I.” The earl lowered himself onto the bench, stretched out his long legs, and crossed them at the ankles.

“My question was directed toward the
girls
, my lord.”

“Was it?” he said, his mouth curling into a dangerous smile. “I don't know whether to be relieved or insulted.”

“Either way, we shall leave you to your own devices.” Meg led the twins away from the path where London's elite strolled. Why should she care if the earl was embarrassed to be seen with her? If he were so shallow that he would shun a person for being a bit unfashionable, then she would not waste a single thought on him.

“Stay away from the water, girls. I'll not have you falling in. Come, here's a nice open space.” Meg and the twins quickly formed a triangle and tossed the ball to one another. Each time the ball flew over their heads, Diana and Valerie squealed in delight and chased it with glee. Their laughter washed over Meg, soothing some of her hurt.
They
didn't seem to mind that she dressed like a kitchen maid.

If only she hadn't goaded the earl in the library last night, they wouldn't have had to endure his company today. But he'd provoked her, and she'd responded in kind, and he'd ultimately called her bluff, blast it all.

“Miss Lacey.” Valerie pointed across the lawn. “I think the woman over there is waving to you.”

Meg turned and raised a hand to her brow, shielding her eyes from the sun. Several yards away, Charlotte waved happily as a young girl skipped beside her.