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

  “Not every day.”

  “It feels like it.”

  Catherine shook her head and grinned. “When will you get over your fear of him?”

  “Probably never.” Ethan kissed her cheek. “I think I’ll see what Mr. Horlock wants.”

  As he headed toward the library, his mother called out, “Will you always run away when the Duke of Rumsey comes by?”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “It’s kept me out of harm’s way.”

  After he made it to the library, he shut the door and took Agatha’s letter out of his pocket. He opened it and read it. She wanted him to go to her townhouse so she could ask him some questions to help her with the book she was currently writing. Since he owed her for all the times she’d submitted scandalous news items to the Tittletattle for him and because he’d much rather talk to her than take the chance of running into his father-in-law, he grabbed his cloak and left the townhouse. His mother and Catherine were chatting as they drank tea in the drawing room and probably assumed he was going to White’s.

  He waited until he was a couple blocks from Agatha’s before he slipped the cloak around his shoulders and pulled up the hood. Keeping his head low, he took an alley. Another detour and he was at the back of her townhouse. He slipped into the servants’ stairway and waited until the halls were clear before he went to her library.

  She gasped as he shut the door and released her breath when he lowered the hood so she could see his face. With a laugh, she said, “I’ll never get used to the way you sneak around.”

  He locked the door and went over to the decanter. When he saw it was empty, he shook his head. “Why isn’t this full?”

  Leaning back in her chair, she set her quill down on the table. “Besides you, I have no gentlemen stopping by.”

  “Not even a male relative?”

  “Only my sister and aunt are in London this time of year.”

  “Oh, right. The Season. This is your sister’s first Season, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and she’s been to many balls, though she missed the one where you got engaged.”

  Noting the smirk on her face, he resigned himself to doing without any wine and removed his cloak. He draped it over the back of his chair before sitting down. “You delight in the way my mother managed to get me married off, don’t you?”

  She shrugged and fingered her quill. “You have to admit, it has some humor in it.”

  “I’m glad someone thinks so.” Though he still didn’t think what his mother did was funny, he came to understand most people did. Clearing his throat, he motioned to the papers in front of her. “Is this the story you need help with?”

  Turning serious, she straightened in her chair and sorted through the papers. As she pulled a couple out from her pile, she nodded. “I didn’t expect you to come right away.”

  “Well, my father-in-law was on his way over to my place.”

  “Ah, say no more. I understand. I suppose it’s my fortune that you could stop by right away.”

  He grabbed a glass from her tray and poured some water into it. “You need help understanding a gentleman’s perspective?”

  “Yes. If you suspected the lady you loved was a murderer, would you confront her?”

  “Probably not. What if she lied and said no?”

  “But what if she told the truth and said yes?”

  “And if she was capable of murder, wouldn’t she be capable of lying?”

  She grinned. “Of course, but wouldn’t a hero’s need to protect his lady make him want to believe her?”

  He leaned forward in interest. “Is your heroine a murderer?”

  “No. She’s innocent. It’s just that her uncle made it look as if she is.”

  “If you want to make the book suspenseful, then the hero is going to have to wonder if she did it.”

  “I realize that, but I wondered if a gentleman’s urge to believe in a lady’s innocence would interfere with that.”

  “Not if he thinks she made a fool of him. If there’s one thing gentlemen don’t like, it’s being made a fool of. We have our pride.”

  She shuffled another pile of papers and flipped through them. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She made a note on one of the papers and slipped it back into the pile. “The story would take an interesting turn if the hero suspected the heroine was making a fool of him.” Looking up at him, she smiled. “This is why I like talking to you. You don’t judge me for what I write, and better yet, you help me when I struggle with what I should do with the story.”

  “It’s the least I can do for all your lies to the Tittletattle.”

  “It’s a shame all those scandals didn’t do you any good.”

  “Even so, I like to think it was worth it.” He liked to think it saved him for Catherine. Turning his attention back to Agatha, he asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  She scanned the papers and shook her head. “I think I have everything else I need. I should have this story ready in a month. Will you be able to take it to the publisher for me?”

  “I’ll be happy to.” He stood up and took his cloak from the chair. “I must admit that I’m impressed you keep writing even though you haven’t had a story accepted for publication yet. I know some gentlemen who would have given up already.”

  “When you really want something, you don’t give up,” she replied, smiling at him. “My family would be humiliated if they knew my secret pleasure, but it is something that brings me great joy and I see no reason to stop.”

  “There is no reason to stop. You have the time, talent and means. One of these days, you’ll be published.”

  “Thank you, Ethan. You’re a good friend.”

  He slipped into his cloak and pulled the hood up. With a nod, he unlocked the door. He made sure the hallway was clear before he snuck to the servants’ stairs.

  When he was safely away from Agatha’s townhouse, he took off the cloak and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He draped the cloak over his arm and turned in time to see Catherine’s father approaching him. His first inclination was to pretend he didn’t see him and hurry to White’s, but that was silly. The duke saw him look in his direction. He had to be polite enough to offer a greeting.

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Ethan said, forcing a smile on his face.

  The duke’s gaze went to the cloak. “It’s a little hot to be wearing a cloak, isn’t it?”

  He laughed. “I’m not wearing it. I’m carrying it.”

  “Do you take me for a fool? You have a thread from the cloak on your shoulder. That means you were wearing it.”

  Ethan resisted the urge to grimace. Leave it to his father-in-law to pay unnecessary attention to detail. “I caught a chill earlier, but I’m fine now.”

  “A chill? When it feels like mid-summer?”

  “I can’t explain it. My body goes from hot to cold regardless of the temperature.”

  The duke narrowed his eyes at him. “Really?”

  “Yes. The doctor told me what my condition was, but the name is too long to pronounce.” All right. Now he was so nervous that he was rattling off the stupidest lie he could think of. This had to stop. Clearing his throat, Ethan shrugged. “Well, I believe I’ll be off.”

  “Oh? Where are you going?”

  “Did you already see Catherine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’m going home.”

  The duke’s frown deepened. “How convenient.”

  Ethan wasn’t sure what the duke was getting at, but he decided to pretend he didn’t notice the way the gentleman was scowling at him. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”

  Though the duke didn’t reply, Ethan bowed and smiled, trying his best to appear nonchalant. He turned from the duke and strode down the street, reminding himself that if he walked too fast, he’d arouse the duke’s suspicions even more. Good gracious! Just what did the duke think he was doing anyway? On second thought, he didn’t want to know. If his mother and Ca
therine didn’t enjoy seeing their friends so much, he would haul them off to his country estate right away.

  Oh well. September wasn’t too far off. He only had to bear with the duke until then. He wiped the sweat from his forehead again, this time uncertain if it was because he was hot or because he was dreading seeing the duke again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In June, Catherine woke up, entangled in Ethan’s bed sheets and wrapped in his arms. Had it been cooler in the room, such a situation would have been welcoming. But since it was warm, she was sweaty, and being sweaty led to quite a degree of discomfort. She pushed a sleeping Ethan away from her and fought the sheets until she was free. Sitting up in the bed, she fanned her face and scanned the dark room until her gaze settled on the closed window. Well, there was the problem. The wind had blown the window shut.

  Collecting a few pins from the small table by the bed, she pulled her hair back and pinned it to the top of her head. The absence of hair on her neck and back was an immediate relief, but she needed fresh air. She slipped off the bed and went to the window. She opened it, making sure it locked into place so the wind wouldn’t close it again. The cool wind felt like heaven against her skin, so she stood in front of the window.

  “Get away from there!”

  Surprised, she turned and saw Ethan gesturing for her to get away from the window. “I don’t need anyone seeing my naked wife.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t thought someone might see her. She peered out the window. “There’s no one out there. I think everyone’s asleep.”

  He groaned and sat up. “Will you please come back to bed?”

  She stepped away from the window but let the cool air wafting into the room cool her back. “I can’t sleep when I’m sweaty. I need to cool off first.”

  “You’ll be the death of me yet.”

  “Why? No one can see me from here.”

  Through the moonlight, she saw his exasperated expression. “And people think I have no sense of propriety. Catherine, I forbid you to go anywhere near the window when you’re not fully clothed, unless the curtains are drawn.”

  Pleased, she walked over to the bed and climbed in. “What if you happened to be the person out there?” She straddled him, making sure his erection was nestled between her legs, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Would you want me to linger over there?”

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  “Is it?”

  She moved her hips, her sensitive nub rubbing his shaft. When he moaned in pleasure, she leaned forward and kissed him. His flesh was warm, and even though the room was still stuffy, she didn’t mind. When she was making love to him, she didn’t mind the heat so much. It was when she slept that she preferred to be cool.

  When the kiss ended, he wrapped his arms around her so her breasts pressed against his chest. “If I am the only one at the window, then I’ll be very happy to watch you dance around in all your naked glory.”

  Her lips curled up. “Dance around? I wasn’t dancing around just now?”

  “You might as well have been with the way your breasts were jiggling.”

  “Do you like my breasts?” She wondered if he found them lacking since they weren’t as big as what most ladies had but had been too timid to ask the question before. Now, it seemed like a good time.

  “Of course, I do.” He brought one of his hands to her breast and cupped it in his hand. “What’s not to like? It’s soft.” He brushed his thumb against her nipple, sending a shiver of delight straight to her core. “And sensitive.” With a wicked grin, he added, “I love your breasts.”

  He bowed his head and brought his mouth to her nipple. He kissed it before he traced his tongue over it and gently tugged on it with his teeth. She gasped and squirmed against him, aware of his strengthening erection. She rocked her hips until her nub was firmly over him and focused on the way he tweaked and tugged at her nipple. His hand went to her other nipple, his fingers gently squeezing it, making the ache between her legs unbearable.

  “Ethan,” she whispered.

  He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back. Leaning over her, he continued his ministrations over one of her nipples while bringing his hand between her legs. He found her sensitive nub and caressed it. Two fingers slid into her core, and he stroked her. She grasped his arms, threw her head back and moaned. Her climax came quickly, crashing into her, engulfing her in a heightened state of pleasure. She loved how he could make her feel weak and powerful all at once. And he continued to stroke her core and suck on her nipple to prolong the sensations pulsating through her body.

  When she’d ridden the last wave of pleasure, he shifted so that he was between her legs and entered her, slow and purposeful until he was fully inside her. Her flesh tightened around him and she lifted her hips to better feel him. He clasped her hands over her head and moved his hips, continuing to take it slow. She became aware of the tension mounting inside her as he stroked her, the ridge at the bottom of his tip working against the sensitive area in her core. Her hips rose to meet him, aiding him along as he established a rhythm, going in and out, building to a faster pace.

  In time, his movements grew faster, his thrusting more insistent, silently demanding she climax again. And she did. She cried out and her core squeezed him, her body shuddering beneath him. He gave her one last thrust before he let out his own cry and stiffened, releasing his seed into her. She opened her eyes and watched him. He was utterly handsome when he was receiving pleasure from her body.

  When he collapsed in her arms, she smiled and pressed her cheek to his. Yes, she was sweaty. More so than before, but she certainly didn’t mind it. Tomorrow, they’d bathe, preferably together, and she would cool off then. He remained inside her, something she loved since it made her feel intimately connected to him, and before long, he fell asleep. Though she was still awake, she smiled and continued to hold him. She loved him. She didn’t know when it happened. They’d spent a considerable amount of time together since getting married. Somewhere along the way, she’d given him her heart. She could only hope that in due time, he might give her his as well.

  ***

  A week later while Catherine was visiting Lady Roderick, Ethan decided to read a book. He chose a couch to lounge in and got comfortable. He was in the middle of reading “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” in Lyrical Ballads, With a Few Other Poems when the door to his library flew open.

  “Ethan!”

  Startled, he released the book which soared across the room and landed somewhere near the fireplace. He couldn’t tell exactly where it landed because his heart was racing too fast and his vision blurred as someone grabbed his arms and shook him.

  “Lady Hettinwood is going to have a grandchild!”

  It took him a full thirty seconds to realize it was his mother who was shaking him and using a shrill voice that would wake the dead. Pulling her away, he straightened on the couch in an effort to regain his composure.

  “Mother, settle yourself down.”

  Who would have thought a grown gentleman could be scared witless because his mother burst into his library in the middle of the day? He helped her into the chair across from him then settled back onto the couch, feeling much better.

  “All right. You have my full attention,” he began. “What is this about Lady Hettinwood?”

  “She’s going to have a grandchild! And her son only married last month.” She pointed her finger at him. “That’s one month less than you’ve been married.”

  Unable to believe this was the cause for concern, he stared at her for a long moment.

  “Don’t you understand?” his mother insisted, wringing her hands. “You have been married longer than her son, and you don’t have a grandchild on the way.”

  “Oh, Mother!” He shook his head, not believing his ears. “This has nothing to do with an heir. It’s about your ongoing feud with your friend.” He paused before adding, “I wouldn’t even call her a friend.”

  “She is a fr
iend.”

  “Well, you two have the oddest friendship I’ve ever seen. You’re in competition with each other, and yet, you can’t seem to live without her.”

  “I’ve known her for years. We knew each other before our first Season.”

  He held up his hand to stop her from saying anything else. “I’m aware of the four-decade rivalry you two share. What I don’t understand is why you visit her.”

  “Never mind about my friendship with her,” she replied. “I’m here to talk about you. When are you going to give me a grandchild?”

  “I can’t predict when Catherine will get with child.” Really, like he could control such a thing!

  “But are you doing your part?”

  “Of course, I am!”

  “Then why isn’t she expecting a child yet?”

  With a groan, he gave her a pointed look. “This is absurd. I can’t do anything more than what I am doing to give you a grandchild. And really, Mother. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Wanting a grandchild so you can compete with your friend!”

  “Don’t turn this on me. I have a legitimate concern. Most ladies conceive right after the wedding ceremony. I just want to be sure you’re doing everything you can to make it happen with Catherine.”

  “There have been a couple ladies who didn’t conceive at all. Not everyone has children.”

  “But are you making the effort, Ethan?” she pressed, a determined look in her eye insisting he assure her that he was.

  Despite the heat rising up to his face, he said, “Yes.”

  “But you have to make the effort more than once a month.”

  “Mother, I assure you that I am doing everything I can. No one can make a greater effort than I am.”

  “Then why isn’t Catherine expecting yet?”

  “We’ve only been married for two months!” Honestly, the lady could beat a point to death!

  “But Lady Hettinwood’s son has only been married for a month.”

  Deciding he’d had enough of his mother’s nagging, he stood up. “I have said all I care to say regarding this matter. Now, if you’ll please leave me to my reading, I’ll be ever so grateful.”