The Earl Not Taken Read online

  Rhys gave her a warm smile and banged the knocker twice.

  The door swung open, revealing a butler of middle years. His brown hair grayed on the sides, and his dark eyes simmered with mistrust. “May I help you?”

  Handing over his calling card, Rhys said, “The Earl and Countess of Marsden to see His Grace.”

  The use of titles seemed to perk up the butler as he eyed the card. “Please come in. I will see if His Grace is available. You may wait in the sitting room.”

  The foyer was magnificent with black-and-white marble tiles, which reminded Poppy of a chessboard. Twenty feet above them a chandelier reflected light from the window above the door. The sun caught each of hundreds of crystals and set them aflame. Stark white walls made her worry she might mar something. It hardly reflected the personality of Nicholas Ellsworth and his easy demeanor.

  With a definite limp to his step, the butler led them down a hall and into an ornate sitting room facing the gardens. “I am Dumford, should you need anything.”

  He closed the door.

  The room was broken up into three spaces: A table and four chairs in one corner covered in a lace cloth. A conversation area with couch, settee, and three chairs all in the French style with swirling woods and fine upholstery. A pianoforte in the far corner with a golden candelabra perched on it and several family miniatures placed around the top of the instrument. Poppy noted the image of Nicholas alongside an older man with a similar look.

  “This is so formal compared to the man.” Rhys ran his hand along the back of the couch.

  “Yes. I thought so too.”

  “It is to my mother’s taste.” Nicholas stood in the open doorway.

  Poppy started, having not heard a sound of footsteps or the door opening. She stumbled into a curtsy. “Your Grace.”

  Rhys bowed as well. “Good afternoon, Breckenridge.”

  Entering the room, Nicholas’s eyes held wariness. “To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”

  Perched against the corner of the fireplace, Rhys raised his eyebrows in Poppy’s direction.

  Taking careful steps to bring them closer together, Poppy swallowed down any fear. “I feel you deserve an apology and an explanation, Your Grace.”

  He let his expression soften as if he’d given up a pretense. “Sit please, Poppy, and my name is still Nicholas. Tea will take a few moments.”

  Relieved the warm man she’d met so many weeks ago at the Sottonfield ball was not altogether gone, Poppy sat. “Thank you, Nicholas. Would you let me explain my actions?”

  He sighed. “I can’t see how it will make a difference, but if it will make you feel better.” He inclined his head.

  Drawing in a long breath, Poppy started from the beginning. “My friends and I have formed a pact to never let another man harm one of us. When Faith was sold off to a man none of us had ever met, our worry bloomed into panic. Please understand, we did not know you, and you are a man with many secrets.”

  “She was not sold to me.” He bit out the words angrily.

  “No. I know. I have had many issues with the institution of marriage that I am now recovering from since Rhys and I have recently been married.”

  Nicholas’s eyes widened. “Yes. Dumford mentioned your title. I offer my felicitations.”

  “Thank you. I thought if we could get to know your character, we would know if Faith would be safe with you. It would also help if you and she might have developed some regard for each other.” Poppy huffed in frustration.

  “I agree, that might have been nice,” Nicholas said.

  “Can you perhaps see, considering our fear of a disastrous fate, your secrets and odd behavior might have set our teeth on edge?”

  He leaned forward. “Perhaps, but going to my friend and spending two nights for information-gathering purposes was beyond my tolerance, Poppy.”

  “We only meant to ask a few questions and be on our way. The weather forced us to stay longer, and I’ll not apologize for the extra time. I wouldn’t trade meeting Mr. Arafa for the world. He is a most interesting man and not like anyone I have ever met.” She lifted her chin.

  Rhys laughed. “That is true. I agree with my wife. Mr. Arafa is a fine friend to have.”

  “Indeed,” Nicholas conceded.

  Poppy swallowed the lump in her throat. “I am sorry we invaded your privacy, and I hope you will take more time to get to know Faith and let her get to know you. If you decide otherwise, I understand but believe you will be missing out on a lifetime with an exceptional person.”

  “Oh, and do I have the approval of this group of ladies or am I still on trial?” Derision oozed from Nicholas’s words.

  Poppy ignored his sarcasm. “If Geb Arafa approves of you, then I do as well. Faith is still not sure, but I shall let her speak to you of her concerns as it is not my tale to tell.”

  “So, I am just to forgive you and her for spying on me? I have no say in what I wish to tell my perspective bride and what I want to keep from her?” Nicholas stood and crossed the room, planting his hands on the top of the pianoforte and staring down at its shiny surface.

  Rising, Poppy went to Rhys and took his hand. “As I am only recently married and can only speak from my own experience, I am not fully qualified to answer that question, Your Grace. However, until I was honest with my husband and he with me, our chances for a life filled with joy and love were nonexistent. So, I suppose it depends on what you wish to gain from a marriage. If you want a broodmare to give you sons and be ignored for all other purposes, then your silence might work. Then again, if it is a companion who loves you and makes your life worth living you seek, you shall have to tell her everything and let her decide if she can live with it.”

  Rhys lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. Pride and love shone in his eyes.

  “It is a very big risk you ask of me.” Nicholas turned to face them. His eyes were filled with conflict, and his knuckles were white where they gripped the instrument.

  “I am not asking anything of you, Your Grace. It is only my opinion there is always risk for the greatest reward. Rarely do we get what we want without giving something of ourselves in the process.”

  Sensing the interview was at an end, Poppy looked at Rhys. He took her elbow, and they walked to the door. “Thank you for seeing us, Your Grace.” Rhys too returned to a formal address, taking his cue from Poppy.

  Nicholas watched them leave but said nothing.

  Outside Poppy’s hopes fell. “We failed.”

  Rhys handed her up into the carriage. “Did we?”

  “Faith is perhaps further away from a good match than when we started on this ill-fated journey.” A heavy burden settled in Poppy’s chest. She had not helped her friend the way she said she would. She had not fulfilled her oath. “Now that we are fully discovered by Breckenridge, we have no means to gather information.”

  Rhys gave Patrick instructions to take them home. Once the carriage was rolling and they were settled, he pulled her into his lap. “My love, we set out to discern his character and did as well as anyone could have. I know we didn’t find a flawless prince under his disguise, but those are very rare. He is liked and respected by his friends. He has a sense of humor. Even when angered, he has not shown signs of violence. I think we did what were charged with. The rest is up to Faith and Nicholas.”

  The burden lightened, allowing Poppy to breathe. “You are wrong about one thing, sweet husband.”

  He snuggled into the spot where her neck and shoulder met and kissed her sensitive flesh. “Which part, my love?”

  “Sometimes one does discover a prince in disguise.” Poppy cupped his cheek and pressed her lips to her own prince.

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  Meet the Author

  A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful IT career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back. A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic, and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape, and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story. The author of the Forever Brides series, the Everton Domestic Society series, and more, A.S. adores strong, empowered heroines no matter the era, and that’s what you’ll find in all her books. A Jersey girl at heart, she now makes her home in southern Missouri with her real-life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing, she enjoys cooking, travel, history, puttering in her garden, and spoiling her fussy cat. Be sure to visit her website at asfenichel.com, find her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.

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  Keep reading for a special excerpt of Faith and Nicholas’s story in MISLEADING A DUKE.

  Chapter 1

  The last person Nicholas Ellsworth expected to find at his good friend, Geb Arafa’s dinner party was Lady Faith Landon. Yet there she was, Nicholas’s fiancée, maddeningly pretty and equally aggravating. She fit perfectly with the lush décor and priceless artifacts in Geb’s parlor.

  “Lady Faith, I had not expected to find you here. In fact, you and your friends’ presence is an astonishment.”

  “I hope you are not too put out. It seems Lord and Lady Marsden have become fast friends with Mr. Arafa and that friendship has extended to the rest of the Wallflowers of West Lane.” Despite his desire to be rid of her, Faith’s soft voice flowed over him like a summer stream and he longed to hear that voice in the dark, in their bed. The way she filled out the rose gown set his body aflame and there seemed nothing he could do about it.

  He shook away his attraction reminding himself that this was a sneaky, manipulative woman who it had been a mistake to attach himself to. The fact that he longed to find out if her honey-brown curls were as wild as they promised despite her attempts to tame them into submission, shouldn’t matter. Nor should his desire to get lost in her wheat colored eyes and voluptuous curves. This was a woman made for loving.

  Lord, he hated himself. “I wonder that you’re being here with those friends is not some dire plot in the making.”

  He had reason to be suspicious. When he’d first arrived home from France, in the spring, she and her friends had engaged in spying on him and trying to ferret out his past. It was intolerable. He should have called off the engagement, but the thought of ruining her for good society didn’t sit well with Nicholas. Instead he’d offered her the opportunity to set him aside, but she had refused to do so as of yet.

  She frowned and was no less stunning. Her full lips longed to be kissed back into an upturned state. “We are here because Mr. Arafa invited us. He’s your friend. I’m surprised he didn’t mention it.”

  Nick was equally bewildered by Geb’s silence on the matter of Faith and the other members of the Wallflowers of West Land. He had met them on several occasions during his feeble efforts to get to know Faith. Her instant suspicions that he was hiding something may have led to her friends’ actions, but he still couldn’t let the slight die. Though he did admire the strength of the friendship between Faith and the three women she’d gone to finishing school with. They were as close as any soldiers who fought and died together. Even if they had called themselves “wallflowers” there was nothing diminished about any of the four.

  “He is not required to give me his invitation list.” It pushed out more bitterly than intended.

  Those cunning eyes narrowed. “I think you would like it exceedingly well if he did.”

  That she wasn’t wrong raised the hair on the back of Nick’s neck. He had not been able to keep many friends over the years. His work for the crown had made that impossible. Now his friendship with Geb Arafa was in jeopardy as well.

  He bowed to her. “I do not always get what I want, Lady Faith.”

  Head cocked, she raised one brown. “Don’t you, Your Grace?”

  Geb chose that moment to stroll over. His dark skin, set off his bright tawny eyes and though he dressed in the black suit and white cravat typical of an Englishman, there was no mistaking his eastern background. “Nicholas, I’m so glad you are here. I thought you might be held up with politics.”

  Nicholas accepted his offered hand. “I finished my meetings and came directly.”

  Smiling in her charming way, Faith’s golden eyes flashed. “I shall leave you gentlemen to catch up.”

  Both Nicholas and Geb bowed and watched her join her friends near the pianoforte.

  “She is a delightful woman, Nick. You should reconcile and marry her.” Geb ran his hand through his black hair smoothing it back from his forehead.

  Not willing to let his attraction to Faith rule his decisions, Nicholas forced down the desire seeing his betrothed always ignited in him. “She is sneaky and devious. I shall wait for her to give up and call off.”

  “I would have thought such character traits would appeal to you.” Geb lowered his voice. “After all you are a spy with much the same qualities. You might consider speaking to the lady and finding out the details behind her actions.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me what you know, Geb?” It was obvious his friend new more than he’d disclosed thus far. Nicholas asking for more was futile. If Geb was going to tell him more than he already had, he would have done so months ago when he’d first informed him that Poppy and Rhys, now the Earl and Countess of Marsden were investigating his character.

  “I am not at liberty to divulge that information.” Geb’s white teeth gleamed.

  “I didn’t realize Egyptians were so keen on keeping a lady’s secrets.” Nicholas teased.

  Grabbing his chest, Geb feigned a knife to the heart. “I would never tell tales of a good woman. There have been a few who were not reputable and those that are part of our line of work whose secrets I had little scruples about divulging.”

  “Indeed.” As much as he wanted to be angry with Geb for befriending Faith and her friends, he couldn’t manage it. The truth was, Geb was quite discerning about who he called a friend.

  During the time Nicholas spent with them, he couldn’t help but like them as well. They were the most spirited and brightest women he’d ever known. He recalled a beautiful blonde in Spain who had tried to put a knife between his ribs and shuddered. At lease he didn’t think these Wallflowers were out for his blood, just his secrets. What he didn’t know, was why they were so keen on divining his past. He might be a fool to think them innocent. His trust of a sweet face in the past had nearly gotten him killed.

  Geb nudged him out of his thoughts. “Talk to the girl.”

  Glancing at where Faith stood drinking a glass of wine and talking to Poppy Draper, Nicholas mused over if they were plotting their next attempt to invade his privacy. “Perhaps later. First, I would like a glass of your excellent cognac.”

  “Avoiding her will not make your situation better,” Geb warned, his rich Egyptian accent rounding the words and lending a sense of foreboding.

  “The lady will decide I am not worth the trouble and find herself a less complicated gentleman to attach herself to.”

  Nodding, Geb said, “I’m certain that is true. She is too lovely for half the men in London to not be in love with.”

  Nicholas wished that thought didn’t form a knot in his gut. He also longed for a day when Faith wouldn’t enter his mind a dozen times. She had gotten under his skin before he’d even met her, and he couldn’t rid himself of her spell. Even knowing it had been her mother and not the lady herself who had written to him when he was if France hadn’t dulled what he knew and liked about Faith Landon.

  “One day you shall have to tell me how you came to this, my friend.” Geb signaled for Kosey, his servant.

  The extremely tall Egyptian wore a white turban and loose black pants and a similar blouse. He carried a tray with two glasses of dark amber cognac. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, sir. Will that please you?” Kosey spoke English in an eastern way.

  It gained looks from some of the other guests, but Nicholas liked the formal old-fashioned speech.

  Lord and Lady Flitmore gaped at Kosey. Perhaps it was his height as he towered over everyone in the room. It might have been his odd clothes. Whatever it was their shocked regard, needled at Nicholas.

  Faith stepped between him and the couple. “Lady Flitmore, it’s nice to see you again. I heard your daughter Mary would be here tonight, but I’ve not seen her. I hope nothing is wrong. I know how she can get into mischief.”

  Lord Flitmore coughed uncomfortably. “Mary had some trouble with her gown and is coming in another carriage. She will be here any moment.”

  As if on cue, a footman announced the arrival of Lady Mary Yates.

  A slim woman with red hair and flawless skin sauntered into the room. Pretty in the classical way, her long thin nose appeared in a perpetual state of being turned up at everyone and everything. Hands folded lightly in front of her she walked directly to where Faith stood with her parents. In a voice without modulation, Mary said, “Mother, Father, I’m sorry to be late. I hope no one was waiting on me.”

  The lack of any emotion in Mary’s voice made it difficult to tell if she was sincere or just saying what was expected of her. “Thank you for sending the carriage back for me.”

  Lord Flitmore pulled his shoulder back and beamed at his daughter. “Dinner has only just been announced, my dear girl. Please say hello to, His Grace, the Duke of Breckenridge.”

  Mary made a pretty curtsy and plastered a wan smile on her rosy lips. “How do you do, Your Grace?”

  Bowing, Nick couldn’t help but notice the look of disdain that flitted across Faith’s face. “A pleasure, Lady Mary. I’m pleased you could come tonight. Do you know, Lady Faith Landon?”