The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance) (3 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Bolen

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BOOK: The Earl's Bargain (Historical Regency Romance)
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She called for Williams. "You must put the
chairs back as they were before the meeting," she told the
butler.

"As you say, madame. A pity you must forever
be telling me how to perform my duties. I should know that without
having to be told."

Louisa looked kindly at him. "In time you
will learn, my dear Mr. Williams. Remember, just a few months ago
you were a gentleman's valet. You've learned much about being a
butler, but it takes time."

With a mahogany chair in each hand, he
strode across the room and replaced them at either side of the game
table. "It's grateful I am that you've given me a chance."

"It's me," she reassured, "who is fortunate.
You were a fine valet to Mr. Phillips, and you'll be an excellent
replacement for Banbury, may God rest his soul." A sickening
feeling surged through her. Surely Godwin had made provisions for
Williams.

By the time she had instructed Williams in
the drawing room, Louisa heard Lord Wycliff and his cousin coming
down the stairs, and she hurried to greet them.

From the hollow expression in Lord Wycliff's
dark eyes, she knew his search had yielded nothing but
disappointment. "Any luck, my lord?"

"Unfortunately, no." He met her gaze, and
she was taken aback by the grief she saw in his eyes.

"If I learn anything about the painting,"
she offered, "I will contact you."

He looked down at her. And she grew
uncomfortable. The dark lord was exceedingly handsome. She had put
away dreams of handsome lords when she abandoned dolls, already
having been pledged to a well-to-do man who was older than her
father. And in the nine years since, her eyes had never
appreciatively swept across the figure of a good looking man. Of
course, she’s had no opportunity to do so — and of course, she
loathed men.

With his sun-burnished face and well defined
muscles, Lord Wycliff seemed out of place in a cut-away coat,
freshly pressed cravat with silken vest, and pantaloons. She could
imagine his muscled torso and generous shoulders rippling beneath
the fine lawn of an unadorned shirt as he lunged booted feet and
swished his saber in the defense of damsels. She could even picture
him hammering at a blacksmith’s anvil, sweat sheening his
strong-boned face. Yet, despite the power and blatant masculinity
he exuded, there was also touching tenderness.

"That would be most considerate of you," he
said as he walked to the front door.

She wanted to do something that could balm
the man's hurt. She almost offered the name of the solicitor, but
that she refused to do.

After all, Lord Wycliff was an
aristocrat.

* * *

The cousins settled in the carriage, then
Edward turned to Harry. "I say, Mrs. Phillips could not have been
much more than a babe when she wed that vile Godwin Phillips."

"I daresay you're correct." Harry spoke with
no emotion, his thoughts low.

"Did you not think the widow's good looks
rather extraordinary?" Edward asked.

Harry thought of the slim young woman who
was such a paradox. Barely more than a girl, she bespoke the
determination of a well seasoned dowager. "I did. A pity she's a
bluestocking."

"I thought you admired women who had a head
on their shoulders."


True, but there must be a
compromise between stupid women and the bloody do-gooder
bluestockings."

"Think I'd rather have a slow-witted wife,"
Edward said.

Harry’s dark eyes sparkled. “But I thought
the idea of marriage was repugnant to you.”


So it is. Never saw a girl
more dazzling than a set of perfectly matched bays.”

A smile crept across Harry’s face.
"Tomorrow, my dear cousin, we shall call on Mrs. Phillips for
enlightenment."

Edward shot him a questioning glance.

 

Chapter 2

Louisa beamed at her younger sister, her
eyes glistening. When she had last beheld her eight years ago, the
ten-year-old Ellie had been all legs with uneven teeth too big for
her dainty face. Now her legs were in perfect proportion to her
woman's body. Her hair -- once the same pale blond as Louisa's --
was now the color of summer hay. Still lightly freckled, Ellie's
face had grown into her teeth, teeth that were now smooth edged,
pleasantly even, and bright white. She had blossomed into a lovely
young woman, Louisa thought with pride.

Though Louisa had successfully guided her
sister, through her letters, in most matters of taste, she had
failed to dissuade Ellie from wearing utterly feminine clothing.
While her sister's frilly pink dress was perfectly acceptable, it
was far too fussy for Louisa's taste.

"I cannot tell you how very good it is to
see you," Louisa said, taking her sister's slim hand within her
own. "Why, you're as tall as me!" She divested herself of her
bonnet and moved into the foyer. "But very selfish I'd be to have
you sit and chat with me when I know you must be weary from the
journey."

"Not at all!" Ellie protested. "'Tis
wonderfully good to be safe with you." She began to stroll
carelessly throughout the first floor, unconsciously studying the
opulent displays of wealth. "I declare, I had not a minute's peace
during the whole of the trip. I kept remembering Miss Grimm's
warnings about all the men having designs on my virtue."

Her older sister suppressed a chuckle. "You
mustn't take Miss Grimm's advice too seriously, my pet." Taking her
sister's hand again, Louisa led her to the drawing room and rang
for tea.

"How blessed it will be to have tea in your
lovely home." Ellie's gaze traveled the length of his sister.
"London has been good to you. You're as lovely as when you left
Kerseymeade."

Louisa shrugged and sat across from Ellie in
a French chair upholstered in silk damask.

"I've missed you so," Ellie continued. "Why
did you never return to Chewton Manor? Not even at yuletide?"

Louisa's lips thinned, her eyes flashing.
"You know what I told Papa when I left. I shall never forgive
him."

"And you'll never again speak to him?"

Her eyes were cold. "Never."

"I must say, I, too, was glad to leave. I
only hope London is not as wicked as Miss Grimm says for I shall
never set foot out your door."

"I assure you, you'll be quite safe with
me." Louisa's voice softened. "Oh, Ellie, I have lived for the day
you would turn eighteen and I could have you with me." Her gaze
traveled to the window. "I vowed eight years ago I would get you
away before he sold you, too."

"So, here I am," Ellie said, spreading her
arms like an opera singer. "Shall I really get to meet Mr.
Bentham?"

"Most assuredly," Louisa said.

"Papa would have apoplexy if he knew the
contents of our letters, of our admiration for Mr. Bentham and the
free thinkers."

Louisa's eyes twinkled and she let out a
little laugh. "Especially if he knew his eldest daughter was
actually Philip Lewis."

"I must confess, Louisa, I
did not at all like your last essay in the
Edinburgh Review
, though I have
decidedly agreed with all your previous writing."

"The one against marriage?"

Ellie nodded as Louisa poured tea into two
dainty porcelain cups and handed one to Ellie. "Just as one apple
does not spoil the whole bunch, I think your bad marriage should
not poison you completely against matrimony."

"It's not just my own unsatisfactory
marriage," Louisa defended, "but the system. Classes marrying
within classes. Women forced into matrimony--"

"But you advocated
free love
!" Ellie
shrieked. "Have you actually taken lovers?"

That hard look came back on Louisa's face
when she shook her head. "I have yet to meet the man upon whom I
could freely bestow so intimate an offering."

Folding her arms, Ellie shot her sister a
reproachful look. "I believe you dislike men."

Louisa bit her lip and did not respond for a
moment. "I will own my only experiences with men -- with Papa and
with Godwin -- have not shown their sex in a favorable manner. I do
not believe there is such a thing as an honorable man."

A dreamy look came over Ellie's face. "I
believe I shall find an honorable man."

A faint knock sounded at the door, then it
opened. "Lord Wycliff to see you, madam," Williams said.

"Ask him to join us here."

* * *

A moment later Harry and his cousin filed
into the sunlit room. Harry's eyes flashed over the room before
settling on the beautiful widow.

She met his gaze. "Lord Wycliff, I should
like to make you known to my sister, Ellie Sinclair. She’s only
just arrived from Warwickshire." The beautiful widow paused and
looked at Edward. “And this, my dear Ellie, is Lord Wycliff’s
cousin. Pray, sir, I remember not your name.”

He smiled appreciatively at the lovely
little sister. “Edward Coke, at your service.”

Harry decided to be his most charming self,
moving to the girl's chair and taking her hand while not removing
his eyes from hers. "May I hope your journey was pleasant?"

Color rose up the girl's pale, lightly
freckled cheeks. "Yes very," she answered in a shaky voice.

Never to be outdone by his cousin, Edward
marched up to the maiden, likewise taking her hand into his and
pressing his lips to it. "I would be honored, Miss Sinclair, if you
would allow my cousin and me to show you the sights of London."

Ellie's gaze darted to Louisa.

"Pray, please be seated," Mrs. Phillips
coolly instructed her guests. "Allow me to ring for more cups so
you can partake of tea with us."

The cousins sat on a silk brocade sopha. "No
need," Harry replied. "We won't be here long." He needed Louisa
Phillips as he had needed his daily bread eight years earlier. Only
through her would he learn who now owned the house he cared for as
a some men care for a woman. And only through her would he reclaim
the portrait of his mother. He must not fail. "You may wonder why
I'm here," he said to Mrs. Phillips.

Her brows arched, but she said nothing.

"I have been unable to shake your words from
my thoughts. I spent the whole night troubled over the injustices
of our society, and I have come to you for help directing me on the
path to enlightenment." His Tory father would most certainly be
spinning in his grave were his only child to start promulgating
civil liberties.

He watched her anxiously, wondering if he
had achieved his aim. He detected a slight softening in her
expression, a glow in her spectacular blue eyes.

"What our movement needs, Lord Wycliff, is
men like yourself -- men who are in Parliament -- who have the
authority to do something about the deplorable conditions of our
fellow countrymen."

"Then I shall be at your
disposal, Mrs. Phillips, though I have never sat in Parliament. If
I can ever reclaim Wycliff House, I will reclaim my father’s seat
in the House of Lords. I do know many lords and would be able to
speak on behalf of the great masses if you could but guide me. I
read the
Edinburgh Review,
but would like you to guide me in reading Jeremy
Bentham’s work."

Miss Sinclair straightened, her face alive,
her flashing eyes darting toward her elder sister. "Oh, do you know
Mr. Philip Lewis?" the girl asked.

"Of course," Harry answered. "That is, I've
never met the chap, but I've read all of his works."

"And what think you of him?" Mrs. Phillips
asked warily.

"No question, the man is brilliant -- if a
bit too mean spirited at times," Harry said.

Louisa's brows lifted. "How so?"

"Take his latest piece--"

"The one where he blasts the practice of
marriage?" a now eager Edward asked.

Harry's face was grim. "The very one. While
I'm not a religious man, I found it far too radical, undermining
the sacred foundation of our society. Without family and commitment
to family, man would be no better than animals."

"Then you're of the opinion sex, love, and
marriage go hand in hand, my lord?" Mrs. Phillips challenged.

"In an ideal society, yes. And is not an
ideal society what you seek most heartily, Mrs. Phillips?"

Louisa swallowed. "Yes, of course it
is."

Harry got to his feet. "Enough serious talk
for now." He glanced at Ellie. "I am sure Miss Sinclair would enjoy
seeing the pleasures of London, and it is my fondest hope to be
able to show them to her." He directed his attention to Ellie
Sinclair. "Is there something you have particularly been wanting to
see?"

The girl cast a quick glance at her sister,
then back to Harry. "Oh, yes! I should ever so much wish to see the
British Museum."

"Upon my word," Edward said, "'tis the most
utterly fascinating thing I've ever beheld. Whenever it would be
convenient for you, I would be honored to escort you there. I am at
your service, Miss Sinclair." The young man effected a bow.

"Oh, Louisa, could we please go today?"
Ellie asked.

"I'm sure the gentlemen must have other
plans this afternoon."

Harry stepped toward Mrs. Phillips and held
her in his gaze. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than
escorting two such lovely ladies to the museum."

* * *

The foursome rode to
Bloomsbury in Lord Wycliff's sumptuous carriage. For reasons Louisa
was unable to understand, Mr. Coke sat next to Ellie while the earl
sat next to her. She could not remember any time in her life when
she had sat beside a man who was not her father or her husband. She
had especially not sat beside such a handsome man before. Of
course, Louisa was
not
interested in men. She did not even like them.

As they came upon the museum, the earl
slapped his head. "How stupid of me not to have remembered! They're
demolishing Montegue House to make way for the fine new museum
which will be built on the site."

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