A Most Unsuitable Earl (Regency Collection Book 3) Read online

  A Most

  Unsuitable

  Earl

  Ruth Ann Nordin

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and also represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher.

  A Most Unsuitable Earl

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright 2012 Ruth Ann Nordin

  V1.0

  Cover Photo images Dreamstime. www.dreamstime.com. All rights reserved – used with permission.

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  This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without expressed written consent of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Ruth Ann Nordin Books

  http://www.ruthannnordin.com

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  List of Books Written by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Coming Soon in the Regency Collection

  Also Available in the Regency Collection

  Dedication

  To Carol Oberwager-Spencer, your words of encouragement still mean a lot to me. Thanks!

  List of Books by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Regency Collection

  The Earl’s Inconvenient Wife

  Her Counterfeit Husband

  A Most Unsuitable Earl

  Nebraska Historical Romance Collection

  Her Heart’s Desire

  A Bride for Tom

  A Husband for Margaret

  Eye of the Beholder

  The Wrong Husband

  Shotgun Groom

  To Have and To Hold

  His Redeeming Bride

  Isaac’s Decision

  South Dakota Historical Romances

  Loving Eliza

  Bid for a Bride

  Bride of Second Chances

  Native American Romance Series (historical)

  Restoring Hope

  Brave Beginnings

  Bound by Honor, Bound by Love

  A Chance In Time (novella) – main characters show up in Restoring Hope and Bound by Honor, Bound by Love)

  Virginia Brides Series (historical)

  An Unlikely Place for Love

  The Cold Wife

  An Inconvenient Marriage

  Romancing Adrienne

  Other Historical Western Romances

  Falling In Love With Her Husband

  Meant To Be

  Contemporary Romances

  With This Ring, I Thee Dread

  What Nathan Wants

  Across the Stars Trilogy (contemporary)

  Suddenly a Bride

  Runaway Bride (coming soon)

  His Abducted Bride (coming soon)

  Chapter One

  April 1815

  “When are you going to find a respectable young lady to marry?”

  Ethan Silverton, the Lord of Edon, looked up from his book in time to see his very unhappy mother enter his library. He slammed the book shut and slid it under his chair before she realized he’d been reading Shakespeare.

  She glanced at where he put the book and made the sign of the cross. “You’ll be the death of me yet. I don’t even want to know what you’re reading. If only you’d read one of the books your father invested money in.” She gave a mournful sigh and scanned the many books lining the shelves.

  “Mother, please. You know I find history and the like boring.” He grimaced. Truly, he did. History, biography, politics… They only served one purpose: to put a gentleman to sleep.

  She set her plump frame in the chair across from him and wrung her hands. “You were mentioned in the Tittletattle again.”

  His ears perked up at the mention of the scandalsheets. “I was?”

  “Don’t act so pleased.”

  He stopped smiling and gave her a solemn nod. “You’re right. I have behaved abhorrently.” After a pause, he added, “What did I get caught doing?”

  She let out a cry and pressed her hand to her forehead.

  “Oh come now, Mother. It couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “It’s got to be one of the worst things you’ve done yet. Prostitutes and your own mistresses are one thing, but you were caught with Lord Hedwrett’s mistress…and in broad daylight where everyone could see you!”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “No?”

  “No. It was twilight.”

  She let out another cry. “Why can’t you settle down with a good, respectable lady? Why must you insist on dallying with such…such…women?”

  His brown eyes grew wide. “I’ve never heard you talk this way.”

  “I’m sorry, Ethan, but you bring out the worst in me. When your father died, I promised him that I would make sure you got an heir. Only, there is no good lady and no son.” She gave him a hesitant look. “At least no legitimate son. Are there illegitimate sons?”

  “No. I don’t think so. At least no one’s mentioned it.”

  “Please, please marry a good lady this Season.”

  He ruffled his blond hair and groaned. “I’ve been trying.”

  “Not hard enough.”

  “I’ve been going to each Season for five years.”

  “And with each passing year, it’s getting harder and harder to convince a proper lady that you’re worth marrying. As much as ladies desire a titled gentleman, they still have their limits.”

  Crossing his legs, he leaned back in the chair and watched her as she agonized over his future. He knew she meant well, but the responsibility of the title never appealed to him. How he wished he could hand it over to his cousin who could then take over the estate so he could live a quiet life—out of the limelight—in his cottage. What more did a gentleman really need than the solitude of good books and the peacefulness of nature? No, instead, he was expected to run from one social event to another and frequent White’s. At least in the winter, he could return to Kestrel. But no. It was time to be in London and do the whole running to and fro thing all over again.

  Inspired, he straightened. “I have a wonderful idea!”

  Though she seemed hesitant, she asked, “You do?”

  “Let’s give my title to Clarence. You know he’ll do well with it!”

  “Not this again.”

  “But why not?”

  “It’s not as easy as you think it is to hand over your title to him, and if it were, I would forbid it. It’s an honor to have one. You shouldn’t make light of it.”

  He sunk back into the chair. He knew she was going to say that. She always said that. No matter what vile thing he pulled, she clung to
her obsession that he’d pass on the title to a future heir.

  “There’s a ball tomorrow night,” she began, and he groaned. “Now don’t act that way, Ethan. I want you to put on your best clothes and be charming to the ladies.” She paused for a moment. “Not too charming, mind you. I don’t want you to lure an innocent out to the gardens. Granted, a scandal would secure a marriage, but you’ve lived so recklessly, my heart can’t take that kind of betrothal. What we need is an honorable engagement to an honorable lady.”

  This wasn’t the first time she’d made such a declaration, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last. But either way, it wouldn’t matter. He was very careful to avoid anything that might mean he had to marry a lady. No one insisted on marriage if the lady in question was a mistress or a lady of ill repute. They were, by far, the safer bet if he felt inclined to talk to a member of the fairer sex.

  “I’ll attend the ball,” he said because he knew it would make her happy. Never mind the fact that she’d be disappointed tomorrow evening when there was no lady who would be a possible daughter-in-law. Just the hope alone would have to suffice.

  Relaxing, she smiled. “Thank you. Maybe this Season will be the one!”

  Maybe it would be the Season where she would give up her nonsense of him finding a wife.

  Standing up, she motioned to the book under his chair. “I’ll let you return to,” she sighed, “your reading.”

  His eyebrows arched as he watched her leave. Once she shut the door, he picked up the book and resumed reading. He could only imagine the talk of the Ton if anyone found out he was reading something so noble as Shakespeare. Such a thing wouldn’t be good at all to his stellar reputation as a rake.

  ***

  “I’m doomed to be a spinster,” Lady Catherine Morgan lamented as she examined her reflection in the mirror. “Nothing you can do will work.”

  She turned from her vanity, unable to look at herself anymore. What was the use? She already knew why none of the gentlemen had taken an interest in her. Her curly reddish blonde hair was pleasant enough, but it was the only thing on her that made her stand out. She wasn’t ugly, but she wasn’t pretty either. She was somewhere in the middle. The same was true for her figure. The corset helped to bring out her curves, but her breasts still appeared smaller and her hips a little wider than desired. Nothing, however, could compensate for her most undesirable trait of all: her lack of personality.

  Opal, her lady’s maid, put the last pin in her hair. “You mustn’t give up. Sometimes it takes a while to find a husband.”

  “Yes, but in my case, ‘a while’ is an eternity. My only consolation is that I’m my father’s daughter instead of his son. I’d hate to think the fate of the title rested on my shoulders.”

  “You’re much too nervous when it comes to social events. Go there to have a good time.”

  Opal didn’t understand. But how could she? She was a lady’s maid, not the daughter of a duke. “Sometimes I envy you. You don’t have to go to balls and hope that this will be the night you can finally meet the gentleman who’ll marry you so your father will feel better about your future.”

  “His Grace is a good gentleman. He wants to see you happy.”

  “Yes, I know.” And she couldn’t fault him for that. “Please don’t try to console me anymore, Opal. I know you mean well, but my course has been set. There is no good in denying it.”

  With a sigh, Opal put the pins away. “I understand your plight, my lady, but I assure you that these things happen when you least expect it.”

  “You’re very kind to say that.” Opal had said the same thing last year, and though at the time Catherine thought she might be right, this time she held a much more pessimistic point of view.

  “Come, my lady, the guests will be here soon.”

  Reluctant, Catherine rose to her feet. Her satiny-silver dress swirled around her feet. A panel of ruffles enhanced the skirt and her inserted waist made of black fabric accented the gown. The dress had a low neckline, and she wore a bronze necklace and earrings to match.

  Had this been her first Season, she would have felt like a princess. But as she studied her reflection one last time, she felt more like a lady on the brink of spinsterhood. All the dress did was wave a banner begging for someone to marry her. It glittered and shone, but it did nothing else.

  Sighing, she left her bedchamber and headed down the stairs where her father was talking to the butler. She put on a smile because she didn’t want her father to know how much she dreaded another Season. He’d been so kind to her.

  He turned his gaze to her and his lips curled up. “Catherine, you look lovely tonight. I knew that dress would be perfect for you.” He gave her arm a friendly pat and added, “You look just like your mother.”

  “I wish I remembered her.”

  “She’d be proud of you and the fine young lady you’ve become.”

  She’d like to think so. From time to time, she’d go to her father’s library and study her mother’s portrait. He had it done shortly after their marriage, so she was still in full health. A year after she was born, her mother grew ill, and within two months, she passed away. There were times when she yearned for her, and right now, she thought her mother might be the only one who’d understand her situation.

  “Catherine,” her father began, interrupting her thoughts, “let’s go to the ballroom and wait for the guests. I need to make sure the orchestra is ready.”

  Nodding, she followed him and examined the ballroom. Her dear father had spared no expense for the evening. Every candle in the chandeliers was lit. The orchestra waited in the balcony above the room to play. An elaborate assortment of foods and drinks rested on the tables. The entire place was decorated with all the pageantry that would make even Lady Cadwalader green with envy.

  She couldn’t help but feel sorry for her father. He was doing everything he could to attract a respectable nobleman for her, and she feared it was all for nothing. No. Tonight was going to end as all the other nights had. There would be no suitor. Her father would be disappointed. She’d end up telling herself that being without a husband wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her. In fact, given enough time, she might even be content. But deep down, she didn’t believe she’d ever be content unless she had a husband and children. And that made her think of herself as the most pitiful lady of all.

  ***

  Ethan took care to pull the cloak further over his head so no one would see him as he made his way down the street. He didn’t have much time. In half an hour, his mother would expect him to be at the ball the Duke of Rumsey was hosting. It was ridiculous that he was a grown gentleman who still had to obey the demands of his mother. But his mother was a good lady. He couldn’t fault her for trying to get him married. She was doing what any concerned mother would do.

  Lowering his head so Lord and Lady Roderick wouldn’t notice him as their carriage passed by, he hurried his pace and turned the corner of the next street. He made sure no one was in sight then ran up the steps to the townhouse. He knocked on the door, using his usual three taps and waited a second before adding two more so the owner would know it was him.

  He waited for a few seconds before Agatha Lyons, the Lady of Richfield, opened the door. She gasped and pulled him inside. Before he had a chance to greet her, she shoved him into the drawing room and motioned for him to hide behind the door. He obliged and waited as the footman walked down the hallway.

  “My lady, why did you answer the door?” the footman asked in a baffled tone.

  Agatha cleared her throat and laughed. “I wasn’t answering the door. I thought I saw a rat and ran to go outside. I opened the door and it scurried right on out of here. I got so scared that I tripped and fell against the door. That’s why you thought you heard someone knocking.”

  “A rat was in this townhouse?”

  “Yes. A big, hairy one. It was disgusting. I still get shivers when I think about it.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps I ought t
o do a search to make sure there’s not another one.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “That would be best.”

  Ethan had to bite down on his tongue so he wouldn’t burst out laughing. Leave it to Agatha to come up with such a silly story.

  Her footsteps approached the drawing room, and the footman called out, “Shall I check that room before you go in there?”

  “Oh,” she began, “there’s no need. That room is fine.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because it came out of there. Everyone knows that only one rat will be in one place at a time. If there are any more rats, then they’ll be in other rooms.”

  “I haven’t heard that rats go alone in rooms. I’m sure they can travel in groups,” the footman argued.

  “No. The latest research proves otherwise.”

  “The latest research?”

  “This was a ‘loner rat’. It’s a different type of rat. You can tell them by the white streak on their backs.”

  “A white streak on their backs?”

  Ethan pressed his hand over his mouth, hoping his laughter wouldn’t expose her lie. Not only was she lying, but she was horrible at it. A ‘loner rat’ indeed! Thankfully, she was better at writing for the Tittletattle than she was lying about rats.

  “Yes,” Agatha insisted. “I demand you go look for the other rats in the other rooms.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Once the footman headed down the hallway, Agatha hurried into the drawing room, startling Ethan who nearly tripped as she shut the door. “Why are you here?” she whispered. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the Duke of Rumsey’s ball?”

  “I’m on my way there,” he whispered.

  “You couldn’t talk your mother out of it?”

  He caught the sympathy in her voice and groaned. “She’s determined that I marry someone.”

  “I don’t know what else I can do for you. I thought for sure that bit about you and Lord Hedwrett’s mistress would’ve given your poor mother a heart attack.”