London's Most Elusive Earl Page 4

  “Sorry, good fellow, but it’s past your bedtime.” His gloved fist connected with the footman’s jaw and snapped the young man’s head back at a sharp angle.

  Lindsey rolled the unconscious servant to the wall, still rubbing his knuckles as he advanced to the main stairs. It took less time than he’d expected to locate Jenkin’s private gallery, but then these Mayfair town houses were basically all the same inside. He nabbed a hand candle off the hallway sideboard, entered the private gallery, and closed the double walnut doors behind him in silence. Jenkin’s prized art collection was a sight to behold and had Lindsey more time and better lighting, he might have appreciated the paintings on display. As it was, he had eyes only for the Nona.

  And there she was, as if she waited for him in all her naked glory between the double windows and mahogany bookcases.

  With eloquence and respect, he unhooked the frame from the wall, reversed the painting, and withdrew his knife in one fluid motion. It took only a minute to pry the tacks from the back of the wooden frame. Then he rolled the cloth and secured it inside his coat beside his knife before moving about the gallery. With deliberate care he disturbed various works upon the walls, upset several paintings, and removed two more canvases to disguise his specific goal. He then folded the additional works and stuffed them deep into his coat’s inner pocket.

  Satisfied with the scene, he left the doors wide open, replaced the candle, tucked his hat into his waistband, and rushed down the corridor to Lady Jenkin’s bedroom.

  He didn’t knock.

  Instead he burst into the room and strode purposefully to her bed where she too waited, reclined against a multitude of satin pillows, her body clad in a wispy scrap of silk similar to the painting in his pocket.

  “My lady.” He affected a tone of distress. “You need to dress and summon the authorities. I have bad news to share.” He regretted the farce he perpetuated and mentally cursed his father for forcing his hand in the matter.

  “What?” Startled from expectation of an altogether different greeting, she sat up too quickly, the sheets tangling around her legs as she scrambled to the edge of the mattress. “I’ve waited for you all night. What’s happened?”

  “There’s been a mishap. It appears the house has suffered an intrusion of some sort. Your footman is knocked unconscious and lying against the wall downstairs, while the doors to the gallery are wide open. From my quick assessment, the room seems in disarray.” He took her hand and pulled her to standing.

  “I left the back door unlocked for you.” She hurried toward the wardrobe and opened a drawer.

  “You should summon the authorities and hire a runner. Wake the butler and have a messenger sent. I regret I can’t assist you in this.” He backed a few steps toward the door.

  “No. Of course not. The present predicament is more than enough scandal for the evening.” She shook her head vehemently and reached for her wrapper. “You need to go. Hurry.” She caught his gloved hand as he retreated. “Our plans are ruined, but only for this evening. You must leave now.”

  “True enough. My presence only complicates the matter. It benefits no one for me to be found here.”

  He didn’t waste another minute and moved toward the hall, down the stairs, and out into the night.

  * * * *

  Caroline swirled a spoonful of sugar into her tea and leaned closer to her dearest friend and youngest female cousin, Lady Beatrice Notley. Beatrice had been affectionately called Bunny by her family and friends throughout her childhood, but now, as a young debutante enjoying the season, she insisted the adolescent endearment be forgotten. Caroline found it difficult to retrain her thinking, but she tried to catch herself whenever the name Bunny found its way to the tip of her tongue. Beatrice and her mother came to tea often since Caroline’s family relocated to London. Previously she hadn’t seen Bea or her three older sisters since they were children, but the two of them took up as if no time had passed from when they’d picked wildflowers and chased newborn lambs in the grassy fields of Lincolnshire. She had always relished the summer days when Beatrice and her sisters had visited.

  Despite enjoying her cousin’s company today, Caroline had trouble following the conversation with dedication. The persistent memory of her dance with the Earl of Lindsey wouldn’t allow a moment’s peace, and her inability to identify why she’d become so affected proved a further distraction. It was as if he’d stirred up some wave of curious emotion she didn’t know she possessed, and now the disturbing feeling wouldn’t subside. But why? It wasn’t his handsome good looks or solid physique. She’d met fine-looking gentlemen before without developing an unhealthy infatuation. Nor was it his dark forbidding gaze or the way his long lashes tipped with the slightest curl upward. She refused to believe it was his infamous half-smile. No matter it promised indecent wickedness, for she’d managed to remain upright when he’d teased her. What good fortune to have been born immune to the earl’s charms. She almost giggled at the absurdity of it all.

  “What are you thinking, dear cousin?” Bea inflected just enough stress on the words to imply she had a very good idea where Caroline’s thoughts had wandered. “And why so ever did you entertain a waltz with the Earl of Lindsey when I specifically aimed you in the direction of Lord Tiller?”

  “Circumstances changed.” She murmured, though a quick glance toward her mother and aunt assured she wouldn’t be overheard, their conversation lively and animated. “Lord Tiller seemed less them impressed. He didn’t request a dance or prolong our conversation. Instead, without my instigation, the Earl of Lindsey appeared at my mother’s side. Before I could disguise my shock, I was dancing a quadrille.”

  “The earl is handsome, and quite the catch if one is wily enough to win him. Several women have been after him for years now. There’s no debate about that. Although, I doubt a lady exists who could win his affection. While he’s known as a collector of hearts, most of society would label him irredeemable while simultaneously admitting it detracts nothing from his overall appeal. Those unforgettable eyes make him a favorite with the ladies. Inevitably, I’d hoped for more success with our plan.”

  “The season’s just begun.”

  “There’s never a minute to waste in these matters.” Beatrice set her teacup down on the table. “Lord Tiller is just one of many eligible candidates. Granted, his reputation is impeccable and his heritage top-drawer. Still, it will take a bit of work to find you the right match. Your father has provided a generous dowry. Four thousand pounds is no small sum, and we should be wary of gentlemen with pockets to let and a congenial smile to convince us otherwise. Not to imply the earl is of that order. Of course, there’s the matter of his age.”

  “His age?” A vivid image of his dashing appearance clouded her question. He certainly didn’t appear advanced in years. “He hardly has one foot in the grave.” An irrational desire to defend him forced the words from her mouth.

  “Posh. Lindsey must be at least thirty and you a mere two and twenty. While an age difference of that span is not altogether uncommon, I’m certain you’d appreciate a younger, more energetic husband.”

  He’d certainly appeared energetic in Lord Albertson’s study. And during their quadrille straight after.

  “I wonder why we’re even discussing the earl. It’s not as if I’d consider him as a suitor. I hardly have an interest.” That might not be entirely accurate, considering he’d intruded upon her every waking moment since their dance. Society regarded him as the worst example of gentleman, but to his credit it seemed he didn’t give a fig about the ton’s perception. Still, it was best she banished any misplaced curiosity when it came to the earl. “I can’t imagine Lindsey is seeking a wife or any female’s dowry. He must possess considerable wealth. His wardrobe alone would cost a fortune.” The memory of the blood red ruby pinned through his cravat punctuated her sentence.

  “Oh, his is old money. Properties, g
emstones, investments and such. If anything, he’s in need of an heir, but likewise the earl is a walking scandal. I’d keep my distance if I were you. Most especially if you wish for a polite, respectable gentleman in earnest.”

  “Of course I do.” Caroline squared her shoulders and met her cousin’s eyes to underscore her dedication to the task. “You mustn’t believe otherwise.”

  “You possess all the finest qualities required to have your pick of suitable bachelors.” Beatrice smiled. “I’m confident you’ll receive several offers before the season’s end.”

  “That would be lovely. I’m eager to embrace marriage.” Caroline’s gaze strayed to the framed landscapes on the wall of their drawing room. Her father admired art in many forms. It was his love of oils that led them to travel to Italy. Though he hadn’t brought home any new selections recently, she suspected the investment in his collection helped fortify their finances and thus her generous dowry. “But let’s not forget the most important quality when discussing agreeable husband choices.”

  Beatrice eyed her expectantly.

  “I wish to fall in love, and I’ll settle for nothing less.” Caroline placed her teacup beside her cousin’s. “Without true affection, a marriage is destined to fail.”

  “Honestly, Caroline, you possess a romantic view of things. Men and women wed for any number of reasons, and I’d wager more than half the ton is married by convenient arrangement and not passionate attraction.” Beatrice looked amused.

  “No matter how small the percentage, I’m determined to be in the rare group that’s given their heart, not just their hand.” She nodded her head in the affirmative, adamant in her decision. She wasn’t some flighty female enamored with the thought of poetic emotion. She was a sensible, intelligent woman who believed life should be shared with a man who she admired and respected for his faithfulness, trust, and security. She wanted to be held in his arms, cherished and protected, while also having her voice and ideas heard with mutual respect. And naturally she hoped for an enjoyable relationship in the bedroom and a full satisfying life of laughter and deep affection. Her parents had a pleasant marriage, suited to their lifestyle and manner of thinking, but she wished for more, a deeper connection, and she didn’t think it was unreasonable in the least.

  No doubt, the Earl of Lindsey would have laughed at her purpose. No doubt, a man of his jaded perception knew nothing of true love. Or cared, for that matter. A man who would prop a woman atop a stranger’s desk and work his way under her skirts was dangerous indeed.

  Still, with a beat of unbidden peculiarity, a shiver of intriguing desire accompanied that conclusion. She shook her head again, this time in the negative and with more rigor. Why did she waste her time with these considerations? She should scrub her brain clean of any thought which included the Earl of Lindsey and forget the pleasing scent of cinnamon she’d detected when they’d danced and the heated strength of his nearness. He was exactly the type of man that invited gossip and scandal. Exactly the type of man she needed to avoid.

  Blast her imagination for insisting he occupy even one minute of her attention.

  “Tonight, not only will I be in attendance, but Louisa and Dinah as well. We’ll see to the most advantageous introductions, sure to have your dance card filled with hardly an effort. Popularity is contagious that way. Once you dance a number or two, more gentlemen take notice and then wish to fill a slot on your card.”

  “It will be wonderful to see your sisters again.” Caroline smiled. “We were quite boisterous in our childhood years. I have many amusing memories of our times together. It’s a wonder we didn’t give everyone in earshot a megrim with our chatter.”

  “We probably did,” Beatrice continued. “Even with the baby keeping her busy, I know Charlotte will miss seeing you tonight.”

  Their voices rose and the sudden laughter caught the attention of her mother and aunt.

  “How are Charlotte and Viscount Dearing? They must be over the moon at the birth of their son.” Caroline’s face lit with the mention of her newest relation, wee baby William.

  “The three of them compose the loveliest little family.” Lady Notley donned an appreciative expression, her smile a tribute to her emotion. “There’s a true love match if ever I saw one.”

  Considering the haste and surprise surrounding her cousin Charlotte’s unexpected nuptials, Caroline regretted missing the event. With her family in Italy and Charlotte’s wedding arranged and completed in less than a fortnight, there was never a question as to whether or not Caroline’s family could attend. Still, to hear her aunt speak with high regard concerning the marital bliss between Charlotte and Dearing fortified Caroline’s belief in finding one’s perfect match. If her cousin could marry a stranger in less than fourteen days and achieve love, dedication, and now a darling son, then Caroline knew with surety, and a bit of effort on her part, her hopes were not unreasonable.

  “Who will be the next to find their way to the altar?” Her aunt beamed with the insinuation it could be either her daughter or niece and she’d be equally pleased.

  “My daughter is sensitive by nature, and while she possesses a generous heart and seeks to see the best in everyone, she would do well to be more prudent in her belief all the world is as caring as she. I offer her plentiful advice. At least now that we’ve come to London there will be several gentlemen of title and personality to spark her interest,” her mother added with a note of expectation and glanced at Caroline. Heartfelt emotion softened her eyes.

  “It’s not that I’m purposely difficult, Mother.” Desperately attempting to conceal a defensive tone, Caroline kept her answer short, though she leaned closer to Beatrice to finish in a whisper: “Mother’s advice is somewhat unparticular. As long as the man has all his teeth and two good eyes, I believe she’d give her blessing. On second thought, his sight may be negotiable.”

  Beatrice smothered a fit of giggles as she reached for a small sugary cake from the tea tray. “She’s not very different from my mother. They wish for us to be happy but seem to have a different definition of the word.”

  Bea navigated society like a sea captain, her knowledge of the social register’s most notorious rakes, daring debutantes, and handsome bachelors commendable. Still, Caroline preferred to form opinions on her own. A wistful smile curled her lips. Perhaps she needed to examine exactly what she wished for in a marriage beyond love and desire. Those two qualities were most important. But what of his appearance and temperament? Did she wish for a conversationalist? An abstemious, somber partner? Certainly, she had no interest in a man who pulled attention to himself like a magnet. Lindsey’s lovely dark eyes and piercing gaze rose to mind with clarity.

  No, uncommon handsomeness would not sway her opinion. What would impress her the most and show the gentleman’s character in its best light would be an act of selflessness even at a loss to his personal benefit. It seemed society as a whole was more concerned with a person’s wealth and material possessions rather than the actual fiber that composed one’s personality. As two people came to know each other and understand the workings of the mind and heart they formed a bond, and that aspect of a relationship interested her most.

  “I only want what’s best for you, Caroline.” Her mother’s forehead wrinkled, as if it would be preposterous to think otherwise. “At times I believe your spirit too bright for society, that’s all. You must maintain a conservative demeanor at all times, even if you yearn for adventure.”

  Caroline swallowed the reply that sprung to her tongue and brought her teacup up for a sip to ensure no words leaked out.

  “We’ll have another ideal opportunity to survey the bachelors at this evening’s entertainment,” Bea continued, undeterred by Caroline’s silence. “There will be dancing at the Duke of Warren’s social and an exhibit of fine art. His Grace collects sculpture and assorted paintings from around the world.”

  “Oh, will Father atte
nd then?” Caroline aimed this question at her mother. “He so often declines to accompany us, but he’d enjoy this type of affair more than other invitations for music and dancing.”

  Lindsey was an accomplished dancer. Would he ask her to partner again were their paths to cross?

  “Yes, I believe he plans on it,” her mother answered, and for a moment Caroline forgot her own question and considered her mother’s words in relation to private thoughts, her heart all too anxious to skip a beat.

  The moment didn’t last as her mother continued, her attention now turned to Caroline’s aunt. “My husband isn’t often available to accompany us to these affairs, but the lure of a gallery filled with paintings will snare his interest.”

  “Then Beatrice and I should take our leave so we can all prepare for the festivities this evening.”

  Her aunt stood and her cousin followed, while a flurry of excitement hummed its way through Caroline.

  Anticipation was a wonderful companion.

  Chapter Five

  Dishonesty was a fickle bastard. Especially when one was forced to lie and steal. Lindsey cursed and poured two fingers of brandy before he paced across the carpet in his study. Restless and displeased, he swallowed the liquor in one gulp, then paused beside the chair where he’d discarded his coat. With a breath of resignation, he withdrew the Nona from his coat pocket and unrolled the painting with care, staring at it with ambivalence.