The Earl Not Taken Read online

  “You have given this a lot of thought.”

  Raising her chin and meeting those steel eyes, she held his stare. She could not waver no matter how attractive he was or how kind he appeared. “I have.”

  “Is it not possible your knowledge of marriage is limited to those who were forced to marry people whom they didn’t have affection for beforehand?”

  There was truth to his assessment, but it didn’t matter. “It is the way of our society. Marriages are to lift people’s place either in society or financially. Love is beside the point. The other two factors always win out.”

  He kept his eyes averted and his fists clenched at his sides. “It is pointless to argue with you. If you change your mind, my offer stands.”

  “That is very generous.” She went to the door.

  “It’s not generosity, Penelope.” Fire danced in his eyes with an intensity that shot to her heart.

  Afraid to ask what he meant, she curtsied and ran from the room.

  Chapter 12

  Rhys spent the rest of the night tossing and turning before rising early to go hunting with the men. He paced the yard long before the others arrived. The area between the house and the barn was grass but cut low for easy passage between the two. It was a large space that took Rhys five or more minutes to traverse in each direction. Either side was lined with trees, giving him a feeling of privacy.

  She’d rejected him. He’d offered her marriage and she’d told him no. He was an earl. Women didn’t reject earls. Yet Poppy was no ordinary woman. He enjoyed a private smile. No, Poppy was special, though misguided about marriage. Not that she was entirely wrong. His parents’ marriage, as an example, was as she described. Mother was a pawn following Father’s direction until he died; however, the arrangement seemed to suit both of them. Mother never complained or seemed unhappy, that is, except on the day Aurora was sent away. That day, Mother had cried.

  His friends Walter and Marie Stratton were different. They had the kind of marriage he wanted. They had married for love and ran their home and properties together. Perhaps there was a way to show Poppy it didn’t have to be like his parents or hers.

  Rhys was on his third pass across the wide yard and deep in his own thoughts.

  “You look like a man with a problem.” Garrett walked toward him. Friends since Eton, Rhys was usually happy to see him. Unfortunately, Garrett was also the one person who always saw through any attempt to hide his emotions.

  The crisp morning left a haze on the fields. Footmen appeared out of the mist from the house with guns, cloaks, ammunition, and anything else gentlemen might need during a morning hunt.

  Rhys shook off his reverie. He had to protect Poppy, not to mention the teasing he’d be in for if Garrett knew too much. “I have no problems. Just thinking about the week and all the fine entertainment we’ve had.”

  “And all the lovely ladies.” Garrett wagged his eyebrows comically. His easy smile was wide, and his eyes shone with familiar mischief.

  “And the ladies as well. When did you become such an old dog?” It was good to see his oldest friend back in England. He’d been gone too long.

  “I’ve done a lot of traveling, and women are always a fine distraction. Remember the time we went to Bath and wooed all the girls in town. I admit, I miss those innocent days. Soon we’ll have to marry and be done with such nonsense.”

  “I’m already done with it. Dim women in gaudy ballrooms have little interest for me anymore.” Only one woman interested Rhys, and he saw no end to that situation.

  Garrett crossed his arms over his chest and stopped before taking long strides to close the gap between them. His normally reddish hair looked brown in the foggy morning, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He lowered his voice. “I have not heard a word about that mistress you wrote me regarding. Is all well there?” Garrett accepted a weapon and waved to the other men joining them.

  They walked along a path and headed for a field Dornbury claimed had some fine shooting. Rhys and Garrett kept apart from the rest as they talked, and Breckenridge walked farther ahead, keeping his distance from the group.

  Speaking softly so only Garrett could hear him, Rhys said, “I gave her up last year. When my father’s health began to fail, I had little time for her, and she was unhappy with the arrangement.”

  Garrett clapped him on the back. “Sorry to hear it. I know you liked that one.”

  Shrugging, Rhys struggled to remember what color Melissa’s eyes were or how tall she was. His heart was full of a certain brunette with eyes like the sea, and there was no room for any other women. “It’s of little consequence. She was a lovely distraction, but nothing more.”

  “And you are taken with the Arrington girl.” Garrett’s smile was annoying.

  “Perhaps, but it is not something I wish to discuss with you here, or anywhere for that matter,” Rhys ground out. A full denial would have sent Garrett on a different kind of hunt, and Rhys didn’t want to provoke him. They had been friends so long that he knew how Garrett’s mind worked.

  Luckily the others were far enough ahead there was little possibility anyone had heard. Poppy needed to find her own way to him, and a buzz of gossip would send her running in the other direction.

  Garrett raised a brow but said nothing more.

  Faith’s father, the Earl of Dornbury, said, “Why don’t you three stay here.” He pointed to Garrett, Rhys, and Breckenridge. “You should find some fine coveys in those thickets. Don’t shoot my footmen. They’re damned hard to replace.” He chuckled to himself and strode off with the rest of the party and several footmen.

  Two of the aforementioned footmen stayed back to flush the coveys for them. Rhys turned to the one who had brought cloaks. He’d learned earlier in the week the footman’s name was James and he had two sons and a wife in the village. “James, does that ever bother you?”

  James’s grin revealed a missing front tooth and a cheerful disposition. “It’s best to have either very good or very bad hearing as the duty requires, my lord. Once we get this table and the ammunition in place, Levi and I will flush those birds for you gentlemen.”

  “Thank you, James.” Rhys studied the brambles that likely held their quarry. The morning cool did little to release his lethargy. He’d wanted to shake Poppy until she realized she was being silly, but that was not how to win her. He’d held his tongue and would bide his time.

  A day away from her was what he needed. He turned to the other distraction this week. “Breckenridge, this must be a good amusement after so much time in France. Are you enjoying all that town and the English countryside have to offer?”

  With one arm, Nicholas cradled his gun. The other was perched on his hip. He took a deep breath, looking out over the vista. Dornbury had a pretty piece of property. “It’s good to be back. My time in France was difficult.”

  Garrett looked down the barrel of his shotgun. “I had to flee France when a few battles came to close. Wanted to go to Portugal, but I understand Bonaparte has made a mess of the place.”

  “Yes. Quite a mess. I was lucky not to get caught up in that end of things.” Nicholas checked his weapon.

  “You did some business for the Crown?” Garrett readied his weapon.

  James and Levi rounded the brambles where they suspected coveys.

  Quail flew.

  Breckenridge and Garrett both aimed and fired, felling two birds.

  Caught up in finally learning something about the duke, Rhys never lifted his weapon.

  Inwardly, he cursed the timing of the footmen.

  “I took care of a few things for the regent on behalf of the king. A small commission to keep my country safe. It lasted quite a few years longer than expected. The one-year assignment turned into four.” Breckenridge reloaded.

  John ran the quail back to the table. “These will make a fine start for the dinner, my lords.”

  “Good work, James. Do we have another covey to roust?” Garrett asked.

  “Yes, sir. Give us just a moment and we’ll lead the way.” James trotted back into the field.

  When James waved, they took up their guns and walked through the field. The mist still hung near the ground, but the rising sun would burn it off soon enough. The leaves rustled from the wood line to the left. The breaking day left shadows across the grasses, and the birds chirped wildly.

  Not wanting to seem too eager, Rhys waited until they were halfway across the field. “Well, that’s all behind you now, Breckenridge. You’ve made it home safely.”

  Nicholas sighed. “It’s a difficult line of work to break free of. As a duke I suppose I could have cried off, but that didn’t seem right. My father’s death was no excuse for not finishing what I was sent there for.”

  “But you managed to complete your duty?” Rhys should have found a better way, one that didn’t sound so pushy.

  Oblivious, Nicholas shrugged. “I did all I could, and the prince regent decided my home and lands needed me back.”

  Garrett patted him on the back. “Now you’re ready to find a bride and make an heir, I presume. Faith is a lovely girl.”

  “She is lovely.” Nicolas frowned.

  They walked on until James signaled them to stop. Lifting their guns, they waited.

  A still moment held the day as if time itself had stopped moving forward. A slew of pheasant flew.

  They all shot. Three birds fell.

  “Thank you both for the company today. It’s been some time since I had gentlemen to confide in. It might sound like a small thing, but once lost, its value increases.” Nicholas gave them each a nod.

  Guilt seeped inside Rhys. Those women had him thinking like one of them. Looking for something wrong with Breckenridge when his instincts told him otherwise. Shaking off all things Wallflowers, he enjoyed the rest of the sport and much-needed male company.

  * * * *

  It was better to face them sooner rather than later, Rhys thought as he approached the stand of trees where his sister and her friends liked to gather. He wanted to see Poppy. He longed to know if she was still his friend or if all hope was lost. There was an emptiness when she was far from him.

  It was another fine day. The weather had been remarkable. The late day sun cast shadows of the trees across the lawn, giving them shade on a warm day.

  They were all sitting on the grass in various shades of pastel dresses. Four flowers, waiting for their thorn. He wished he could just admire them for a few minutes, but he’d been spotted. “You ladies look lovely.”

  “How was your hunting, Rhys?” Aurora smiled up at him. Each time he saw her, she seemed more relaxed and less the woman Radcliff had made her.

  “I am happy to report we shall have quail for supper.” He joined them on the grass.

  Faith clapped. “Well done!”

  “I aim to please, though I was not alone. It was a fine day to be out in nature. What have the four of you done all day?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes. “We were forced to sit for hours with her ladyship and stitch bits of cloth and put ribbons on bonnets.”

  Laughing at Mercy’s drama, Poppy said, “It really was ghastly, but there were sweets.”

  “Poppy loves her sweets.” Faith grinned and tugged at the ribbons on the bonnet she held. It was covered in lavender and pink with no room to spare. “Now I’ll have to pull all of this.”

  “Why did you put them on?” Rhys tried to understand the inner workings of the life of a lady.

  “Because if I didn’t look busy, Mother would have started a lecture on how a lady must always have an occupation. It is my least favorite of her diatribes, and I’d rather poke my eyes out than hear it again. So, when she demands these little afternoons of sitting about doing womanly things, I comply in my own way. The hat is unwearable, but there was no sermon.”

  Rhys was confused by so much of this that he settled for asking, “If it is so distasteful to live at home, why don’t you give marrying more thought?”

  Faith cocked her head. The usual innocence gone from her face, she stared him in the eye. “I’m at West Lane now and while temporary, it is a great relief. Besides, I want to marry. I want a dozen children. What I don’t want is to be forced to marry a man I cannot love.”

  “And you cannot love Breckenridge? He seems a good man to me.”

  Poppy’s expression was an emotionless mask.

  Aurora asked, “Did you learn something today, Rhys?”

  Here it was, the moment when he had to choose sides in this ridiculous battle. “What I learned was in confidence. However, I am willing to say his activities in France were for king and country.”

  Poppy’s eyes widened, and she turned red. “You are willing to say. You’re on his side. You are protecting him. After all we have done as Wallflowers, you now have joined the club of men who protect each other regardless of the wishes of women.”

  His own anger rose to where he had to clench his fists to keep from raging at her. “I am not on his side, but when someone tells you something in confidence, you keep the confidence. Why is it after all we have been through together you can’t trust my judgment? Do you think I would allow anything bad to happen to Faith?”

  Poppy’s eyes widened for a moment before her mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. “I think you are just like the rest of them with your private clubs and secrets.”

  Knowing how she felt about his sex, it cut him to the heart that she would lump him in with all men. “Are you angry at me or yourself, Poppy? Maybe your rage is at Faith for wanting marriage when you don’t.”

  “I am not. You are twisting things.” She jumped up and ran from the circle.

  He watched her go before realizing the other three Wallflowers were staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths. “A bit of a temper.”

  “What on earth is going on?” Aurora was the first to recover. “And yes, when provoked, Poppy has a temper.”

  Faith scowled. “Poppy is not angry with me. Is she?”

  “Of course not, Faith.” Mercy shifted her weight and sat up on her knees, narrowing her eyes on Rhys. “I don’t think that little display had anything to do with any of us. Nor do I think it was about His Grace.”

  “Would you ladies excuse my brother and me? We’ll only be a little while, and then I’ll be in to dress for dinner.”

  With a nod from each, Mercy and Faith walked toward the house arm in arm.

  When they were well out of hearing, Aurora turned to him. “Are you in love with her?”

  “Who?”

  She gave him her best don’t-toy-with-me look. “Don’t be daft. Are you in love with my dearest friend, Poppy Arrington?”

  “Yes, but the lady does not return my feelings.” His heart contracted into a small stone in the center of his chest.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I can no more disclose a conversation with Poppy than I could one with Breckenridge. She’s your dearest friend; why don’t you ask her?” His words dripped with sarcasm and disgust. He hated himself for not being the man Poppy wanted. She said there was no man, but he didn’t believe that. She was a beautiful, smart, kind, and caring woman. Some man would win her.

  If it were possible to hate a man who didn’t yet exist, Rhys had found it. He longed to wrap his hands around the throat of that imaginary man.

  Aurora’s face fell in sorrow, but he wasn’t sure if it was for him, for Poppy, or for herself. “Poppy would not tell me something so personal. At least, not until she admits it to herself. Clearly, that is not the case.”

  “Have I upset you, Rora?” Reaching out, he took her hand.

  “No. I want all my friends and you to be happy.” A tear slid down her pale cheek.

  “And what of you? Don’t you think you deserve to be happy too?”

  Her smile was forced. “I will be happy. Give me some time. I love having my friends living at my house. I love that you and I are spending more time together. Mother is keeping her distance for the time being. I have nothing to complain about.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I suppose I was silly to think you could be the cheerful young girl I grew up with.”

  A long sigh pushed from her lips. “We can none of us go back in time, Rhys. No matter how much we wish we could, we must live in the present. I will see if I can help with Poppy, but try to see her perspective.”

  “I do. I understand. I just don’t know how to overcome things that were not my doing, at least not entirely.” It was frustrating on so many levels. Still, what he had learned about Poppy in the past few weeks was far more than he had in the six years prior. This was a complicated woman who knew what she wanted. The problem was, she had closed off the possibility of changing her mind.

  Aurora patted his arm. “It will all work out.”

  * * * *

  After the argument, he could not get Poppy alone to talk to her. The fortnight was coming to an end. They were seated next to each other at the final dinner.

  Her attention was either on Garrett on her other side or her plate.

  By the entree course, Rhys was bordering on lunacy. “Will you never speak to me?” he whispered.

  She placed her fork on her plate, took up her wine, and sipped. Setting the glass back on the table, she angled her lowered chin toward him. “What would you have me say?”

  “I would have you admit information given in confidence should not be shared.”

  She pinked. “I do not disagree. But this situation is not common, and it is quite serious.”

  A footman refilled his wineglass, keeping him from making an immediate reply.

  “I understand your feelings, but still think you should trust my opinion in this matter.” They were still speaking so low only she could hear him.

  “Faith said as much. She has decided to give Breckenridge a chance. She has taken two walks with him and said he was very charming. With regard to your part, I am disappointed.” Poppy went back to tearing bits of roast with her fork and pretending to eat.