Wicked Earl Seeks Proper Heiress (The Husband Hunters Club 5)

He sighed and set the glass down and turned to her. He wondered if she realized how very difficult this was for him, being brave. Facing her, when he knew how angry she was with him. In the old days he would have run off and drunk himself stupid and gambled away a fortune at the tables in London, and then drunk himself stupid again to try to forget.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I thought about telling you but I knew you’d disapprove. It really was my idea, Beth. Rufus didn’t want to do it, and he only agreed because he was worried about Eustace and me, and he so wants to be a good earl of Southbrook. He’s the only one of us who is worthy of the name, if you want my opinion.” He grimaced. “Which I don’t suppose you do.”

“James,” she sighed. “I wish you had told me. I wish Rufus had told Averil. She values honesty above all things, he must know that. Her mother leaving her, her father refusing to speak about it, and her sister’s whereabouts kept from her. All these things have shaped her as a woman.”

He nodded, idly plucking at a hole in the green surface of the table. “I see that now. Frankly I wouldn’t care if Southbrook Castle fell down, but Rufus loves the place, and then there’s Eustace to consider. I’m sorry,” he said again, taking a deep breath. “Will you still marry me?” His mouth curled up in a smile that verged on tears. “I swear to you I haven’t got any designs on your fortune, Beth.”

She managed a laugh. “Just as well because I have no fortune. Some savings, but not enough to mend your castle.” She glanced about with distaste.

“We wouldn’t have to live here,” he assured her. “In fact, I would insist we didn’t. London, Beth, that’s the place. We can camp in the Mayfair house until Rufus has to sell up, and then . . . well, we’ll find somewhere. As long as you’re with me, I don’t mind.”

He could see her eyes were shining with tears, too. Was that a good sign? Her lips wobbled. It was too much for James’s soft heart. He came around the table and took her in his arms, kissing her and holding her close.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m very cross with you,” she said softly. “Everything was going along so well and now . . . I can’t marry you, James. You must see that. Not with Averil so upset. How would she feel if I married a Southbrook when her heart is broken?”

“What about my heart?”

She looked at him, but whatever she saw in his face didn’t sway her from her resolve. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t.”

She touched his cheek and slipped out of his arms, and then straightened her back and walked away with a determination he couldn’t help but admire, even as he felt his happiness dissolving around him.

After Averil had reached her room, she began to pack, throwing her belongings higgledy-piggledy onto the bed, her sight blurred with tears that were a mixture of anger and hurt. She tried to deny the hurt, telling herself it was fury that was making her heart ache. She’d let herself be lured into a trap, had believed her own heart knew best, when all along he had been going in an entirely different direction.

How could she have been so stupid? Surely her time at the Home had taught her that men were devious and women weak? Surely her own mother’s actions had shown her the frailties of the heart? And yet she had fallen into Rufus’s trap so ridiculously easily.

She wanted to smash something, and her eye fell on a green porcelain vase. She was just considering the satisfying sound it would make as it hit the wall, when her door burst open.

Hercules came bounding into the room and leapt onto the bed. Behind him was Eustace, his face a white blur as he flung himself into Averil’s arms, nearly knocking her over. “Please stay,” he wailed. “Please, Averil. Please. I want you to stay and marry Papa.”

Automatically Averil’s arms closed about him. In the doorway Violet was looking distressed. “Sorry,” she mouthed. “I couldn’t stop him.”

“Oh, Eustace,” she murmured and held him tight. After a moment she was able to pry him away and sat down on the bed with him, trying hard to ignore Hercules rampaging among the pillows.

“Your father and I aren’t getting married,” she began gently, looking into his dark eyes, so like his father’s. “There are reasons . . . Well, it doesn’t matter. We can still be friends. I can see you, and you can visit me, Eustace.” She hoped Rufus would see it that way.

A flicker of hope lit the boy’s eyes. “And Hercules?” he asked. “And Violet? They’re my friends, too.”

Averil smiled at Violet, who had come across the room and now rested her hand on Eustace’s shoulder. “I’m sure they will still be your friends, too.”

He seemed to accept that, although he added wistfully, “It would be better if you married him, though, Averil. Then we could always be together.”

Averil hugged him again. There was no point in making promises she couldn’t keep, and at the moment her thoughts were in disarray. She needed to get away, return to London, and try to forget what had happened.

“Hercules! Bad dog!” cried Violet in dismay. The dog had torn one of the pillows and was causing a snowstorm of feathers. Eustace chuckled and went after the animal, trying to catch it, but of course Hercules thought this was another game. With a ruff, he took off out of the room with the pillow in his jaws.

Violet lingered. “Are we going back to London now?” she asked, her eyes on Averil’s face.

“Yes,” she said firmly, hoping it wasn’t too obvious that she had been crying. “I have to. There are so many things there needing my attention, Violet. And you must be missing your work at the Home . . .?”

Violet didn’t look as if she was. “I suppose. I want to see the women and help them, but . . . I think I could do more good here, if the women came up to live here.”

“The dower house.” She sighed. Tears burned her eyes again and she struggled to keep them from falling. “All my plans. And now everything is in tatters.”

Violet hesitated and then rested a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Never mind,” she said bracingly. “Perhaps you’ll find somewhere better? Everything happens for a reason, that’s what . . . someone I know says. You’ll see.”

Averil looked at her. “I wish you’d tell me what you’re afraid of, Violet, because I know you are afraid. I will help you in any way I can.”

Violet considered her a moment, and then she smiled, and Averil thought it was the smile of an adult to a child. “You’re very kind, Lady Averil,” she said, “but I think you are an innocent in a lot of ways. There are things out there . . . well, I really hope you never know them. For your sake. And for my sake,” she added in an undertone.