A Most Unsuitable Earl (Regency Collection Book 3) Page 11

  He waited for Catherine and her friends to come within hearing distance before he took a step forward to get Catherine’s attention.

  “My lord,” Catherine said, her eyes wide, “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

  “Yes, well, I had a matter to tend to with a friend.” He gestured to Agatha, praying Catherine and her friends would believe she was a gentleman. “This is Mr. Horlock.”

  Agatha bowed. “How do you do?” she asked in a deep voice.

  Ethan ventured a look at Catherine and her friends to determine if they accepted Agatha’s disguise. They offered their greetings in a manner that seemed to indicate they did.

  “I see you have some drawing pads,” Agatha said.

  It was on the tip of Ethan’s tongue to warn her to stop fiddling with her mustache since it appeared to be a little loose over her lip, but Lady Roderick answered, taking his mind off the mustache. “Since it’s a lovely day, we thought we’d draw some flowers.”

  “Are you any good at it?” Agatha asked.

  “I can’t speak for my companions, but I wouldn’t say drawing is my gift,” Lady Roderick replied.

  “She and I are horrid at it,” Mrs. Morris added.

  Agatha grinned, an action which made her mustache wobble a bit. “I appreciate a lady who is honest.”

  “And you?” Ethan asked Catherine. “Do you draw well?”

  “I’ve had many lessons,” Catherine replied. “It was something my father insisted on since my mother had a passion for it, though I mostly painted.”

  “But do you do it well?” Lady Roderick pressed.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I never showed anyone except my instructor and father my work, and while they said I did well, they might have been polite to spare my feelings.”

  “Then we’ll have to see how you do and give you the truth either way,” Mrs. Morris said. “We promise not to be brutal if they were wrong.”

  As the three ladies continued to talk, Ethan made eye contact with Agatha and motioned to his upper lip. Her eyes grew wide and she touched her mustache, her face growing red as she probably realized the thing was in danger of falling off.

  To spare her potential embarrassment, Ethan waited for Lady Roderick to finish assuring Catherine couldn’t draw worse than she did before he said, “It was a pleasure talking to you, but we must be off.”

  They turned their attention to him and Agatha as if surprised he spoke. Did they forget he and Agatha were there?

  “Until we meet again,” he continued with a quick bow. He would have lingered a bit longer since it was refreshing to see Catherine relaxed around other people, but Agatha caught her mustache as if fell off. Since her hand was clasped over her mouth, he said, “Now, Mr. Horlock, don’t tell me that joke until we’re out of the ladies’ hearing.”

  As he led Agatha away from them, he caught sight of Catherine’s wink and stopped for a moment. She then proceeded to turn to her friends and continued strolling down the path as if she hadn’t done anything suggestive.

  “Ethan,” Agatha hissed. “Stop standing there with your tongue hanging out of your mouth.”

  Blinking, he turned his attention back to Agatha and hurried to catch up to her. “I didn’t have my tongue hanging out of my mouth,” he whispered.

  “You were drooling.”

  “I was not.”

  She snorted. “Who would have thought it?”

  Now he was starting to get irritated. “Who would have thought what?”

  “That you would actually like your new life as a married gentleman?” Before he could refute her claim, she added, “I’ll send you a message when my next story is ready for the publisher.”

  As she hurried down the street, he turned and headed for his townhouse.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ethan felt ridiculous as he paced back and forth in the drawing room. He should be in his library reading, or at least pretending he was reading one of his books. But if he was in the library, he might miss seeing Catherine when she came home. Who knew if she’d venture to his library again? He certainly hadn’t minded it when she took him to it earlier. In fact, he hoped she’d do it again, but he’d never voice the thought. He was a gentleman, after all, and didn’t want to upset her sensibilities.

  With a snort, he turned on his heel and paced in the opposite direction. Upset her sensibilities? She came to his bed with the intention of making love, rubbed his thigh at the table while her father was in the room, and fondled him in the library. He doubted he could do anything to upset her sensibilities!

  Footsteps approached the drawing room, so he rushed to the door in hopes that Catherine had finally come home. When he realized the footman had opened the door for his mother, he sighed in disappointment. “Oh, it’s just you.”

  She arched an eyebrow as she entered the room. “It’s a pleasure to see you, too, my dear son.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” he quickly amended. “Of course, I’m happy to see you.”

  “Of course, you are.”

  He ignored the sarcasm in her voice. “Have you been shopping today?”

  “No. I decided to pay a friend a visit. With Catherine and her father gone, I had no one to talk to.”

  He nodded and turned on his heel to pace the room once more.

  She frowned and followed him with her gaze. “What are you doing?”

  “I thought I’d look around the room.” He motioned absentmindedly to the things around them. “I haven’t been in here for a while. There might be something we can add to make it more attractive.”

  With a smirk, she said, “Or you might be waiting for a certain young lady to come into the room to relax after a long day of shopping with her father.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Catherine never once crossed my mind.”

  She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Of all things, I didn’t take you for a liar.”

  “If I lie, it’s because I’ve had a good teacher.”

  She gasped and placed her hand to her chest. “Are you implying I have a tendency to lie?”

  Raising his voice an octave, he clasped his hands together and imitated the smile she’d used the night of the Duke of Rumsey’s ball. “Your Grace, it wouldn’t be fair to deny true love. My son and your daughter are meant for each other.”

  “I did not screech like a harpy!” Though she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him in indignation, he caught the slight smile on her lips. She was struggling not to laugh.

  In an effort to get her to break down and laugh, he added, “Everyone, and I mean every single person in London, knows of their secret engagement. It wouldn’t do well to forbid these two marriage lest they succumb to suicide like poor Romeo and Juliet.”

  “I didn’t say you and Catherine would commit suicide,” she corrected, giggling.

  “It was implied.” Forcing aside his urge to chuckle, he added in a higher voice, “I know what’s best for you, Ethan. Now stay here while I arrange the rest of your life for you.” He caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, so he turned in time to see Catherine standing in the doorway, her eyebrows raised in interest and a drawing pad in her arms. Heat rose to his face and he cleared his throat. “Did you enjoy your time at the park?” he asked as if he hadn’t been caught imitating his mother.

  “I dare say I didn’t enjoy my afternoon as much as you,” Catherine replied.

  He straightened his waistcoat and glanced at his mother who gave a slight shrug. Smiling, he walked over to Catherine. “May I see what you drew?”

  To his surprise, she clutched the drawing pad to her chest. “It’s just flowers. A bunch of them.”

  “Oh, I love flowers!” his mother exclaimed.

  His mother headed in her direction, but Catherine took a step back and gave a tentative laugh. “They’re boring, I assure you. In fact, they’re not even good. You can’t even tell they’re flowers. I think I’ll take them to my bedchamber.” Before they could respond,
she whirled around and scurried off.

  Ethan turned to his mother.

  “Don’t ask me,” she replied. “I have no idea what all that was about. Well, I’m going to change for dinner.”

  She left the room, and after a moment, he decided to change for dinner, too.

  ***

  Unfortunately, Catherine wasn’t sitting next to Ethan during dinner. He told himself this was a good thing. He didn’t need her touching his thigh and distracting him from his meal. Even though his body wanted nothing more than to feel her hands on it, he kept telling himself he was better off focusing on his meal. He could barely eat during breakfast, and it wasn’t just because the duke watched him. So yes, he was far better off with her sitting safely across from him.

  He did wonder why she hadn’t bothered coming to his bedchamber before dinner. He fully expected her to pop in and seduce him like she had in the library, but she didn’t. Not that he was disappointed. He wasn’t. He was merely surprised since she made it a point to approach him intimately earlier that day.

  “It’s a shame you didn’t get a chance to go to Hyde Park together,” his mother rambled as he ate the fish on his plate.

  “We saw each other at Hyde Park,” Catherine said after she took a sip of wine.

  “You did?” His mother glanced between them.

  “Yes, we did. I went to draw with Lady Roderick and Mrs. Morris, and he was there with another gentleman.”

  Ethan noticed the relief that flickered across his mother’s face and knew it was because his mother was glad he’d been caught talking to a gentleman instead of dallying with a lady. “I wish you’d show us what you drew,” Ethan told Catherine.

  Catherine’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink that flattered her complexion. “They’re only flowers, and like I said earlier, they aren’t very good.” She brushed a reddish curl behind her ear and shifted in her chair.

  He couldn’t be sure, but he sensed her apprehension and wondered what it was about the flowers she drew that made her nervous.

  “I don’t recall seeing Mr. Horlock before,” Catherine continued as she poked her fish with her fork. “Is he new to London?”

  It took him a moment to realize she was talking about Agatha. “Oh, yes. I did meet with him today.” He glanced at his mother. “I was talking to him when Catherine and her friends came by with their drawing pads.”

  “Mr. Horlock?” his mother asked. “I don’t recall hearing you mention a Mr. Horlock before.”

  “I rarely associate with him, so I wouldn’t have mentioned him,” he replied, taking another bite of his fish.

  “I don’t recall hearing anything about him either,” Catherine added, “and my father knew all the bachelors so he could—” She stopped and lowered her gaze to her plate.

  She didn’t need to finish the sentence. Her father made it a point to know all the bachelors in London in order to find a good husband for her. Hoping to ease her embarrassment over how difficult it’d been for her to secure a husband, he opted to get the topic back to Agatha’s facade. “Well, Mr. Horlock has no interest in social affairs. In fact, he’s a recluse.”

  “If that’s true, then what was he doing at Hyde Park?” his mother asked.

  He resisted the urge to sigh. Leave it to his mother to inquire further into an issue than necessary. “I don’t make it a habit to ask why gentlemen do what they do, Mother.”

  She swallowed a piece of her fish and furrowed her eyebrows. “It doesn’t make any sense. Did you go to his house and take him to the park?”

  “No. We happened to meet there.” Goodness, like he had to escort a gentleman to the park!

  “But you just said he doesn’t like going outside.”

  “I didn’t say he doesn’t like going outside.”

  “Of course, you did,” she insisted. “You said he was a recluse.”

  “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy going out when it’s nice outside.”

  She shook her head. “I fail to believe it, Ethan. Either he’s a recluse or he isn’t. Hyde Park is full of people. Why, you and Catherine were there, and you weren’t even expecting to see each other. And she was with two friends. Why would a recluse want to go to a place where many people go?”

  This time he groaned and let her see how exasperated he was. “Good heavens, Mother, you’ll keep on about this till the break of dawn if I let you. Just because Mr. Horlock went for a walk, it doesn’t mean he wanted to engage in a conversation with anyone.”

  “But he was talking to you.”

  He let the fork fall to the table and put his face in his hands.

  Across from him, Catherine giggled. “I think he might mean that Mr. Horlock is a recluse when it comes to the fairer sex. When I met him, he seemed horribly shy. He covered his mouth as if he was afraid we’d think whatever he had to say was silly, and he ran off in a hurry.”

  Ethan looked up at Catherine.

  She picked up her glass of wine. “Lady Roderick, Mrs. Morris, and I agreed that he was the oddest gentlemen we’d ever met. Now I can tell them why.”

  Ethan was ready to tell her she would do no such thing since it would make Agatha seem foolish, but then he reasoned it was better than them finding out Agatha was a lady dressed as a gentleman. One could hardly tarnish the reputation of someone who didn’t exist anyway.

  His mother shrugged and resumed eating her meal.

  “What did you do today, Mother?” he finally asked.

  To his relief she forgot all about Mr. Horlock and began a long spiel about her afternoon. He was able to finish his main course and dessert without any more awkward questions. He hardly paid attention to what his mother said. She was discussing the beautiful parlor of her friend at great length, and such talk had a tendency to make him sleepy well before bedtime.

  But on this particular evening, he had Catherine to watch. Though Catherine did a much better job of keeping up with everything his mother was saying, she would glance at him from time to time and give him a suggestive look that sent a jolt of heat straight to his loins. There was no doubt about it. He had to get her up to her bedchamber and soon. He’d spent the entire day in agony, and his patience had come to an end. As soon as dinner was over, he encouraged his mother to tend to her needlework and escorted Catherine upstairs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I thought we were going to your bed,” Catherine said as he opened the door to her bedchamber and stepped inside.

  It wasn’t his intention to be rude by going into her room first, but he knew it was his only advantage to finding that drawing pad. He didn’t think she would hide it since she planned to go to his bedchamber that evening. The first thing he did was go to the table and light several candles, careful to keep an eye on his wife who was now in the room.

  He lifted one of the candles and turned to get a better view of the room. The onslaught of peach, ruffles, and lace nearly assaulted his senses. The color wasn’t so bad, but he wondered if he could maintain an erection surrounded by such frivolous ruffles and lace.

  She closed the door and faced him, looking at him with big, trusting eyes, her hands folded in front of her. “Are you all right?”

  He blinked and shook his head, willing the mountain of frilly material from his mind. He came here to find out what made her so squeamish about the flowers she drew, and he wasn’t leaving this room until he found that drawing pad! Taking a deep breath, he strengthened his resolve.

  “I’m fine,” he replied, sidestepping the bed, making sure he didn’t brush against the side of the canopy.

  He’d never been to this room, and now he knew why. His mother probably arranged this room to look this way to torment him. No. That didn’t make sense. She wanted him to get an heir. The truth was, she wasn’t thinking at all when she ordered the bedding. He hadn’t noticed the rugs before, but they were as excessive as the bedding. White, fluffy rugs. The whole place smelled of flowers, so he scanned the tables and saw vases strategically placed all over t
he room. There was no way a gentleman could make love in this situation. He would have to take Catherine back to his bedchamber…after he found the drawing pad.

  “Ethan, where are you going?” Catherine asked as he headed for the small room off to the side of her bedchamber.

  “Oh, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” He glanced behind him where she stood by the bed. She looked so tiny compared to the pile of blankets and ruffled pillows. “You don’t have to keep this room the way it is. My mother has a tendency to get…excited,” that was putting it mildly, “so I understand if you want to decorate this room another way.”

  She looked around the room. “I like it.”

  “You do?” He stopped himself before he said anything about his mother’s horrible taste. If Catherine liked things the way they were, she wouldn’t be pleased if he voiced his opinion because she might construe that as his opinion of her—and that wasn’t the case.

  “Yes. It’s very pretty,” she replied, smiling at him.

  He offered a nod and turned his attention to the desk in the other room.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as he walked over to it.

  “Oh, just seeing if there’s anything I should buy for you,” he mumbled as he walked around the desk.

  The drawing pad wasn’t on top of it. Maybe it was in a drawer. He pulled open one of the drawers. No. Not in there. He opened another one. Not there either. As he opened the third drawer, he noticed she was standing in the doorway.

  “Good. You have plenty of stationary. I wanted to be sure you have everything you need.” He ventured a good look at her. Did she believe him?

  If she didn’t believe him, she didn’t give any indication about it. Instead, her smile widened. “It’s very kind of you to worry about me.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is.” He opened the last three drawers and sighed in disappointment. The drawing pad wasn’t in any of them. Where could it be?