The Earl's Desire Page 3

  “Shall we dance, my dear?” William asked as the strains of the reel drifted through the room. Isabel sighed and placed her gloved hand in his, knowing that if she did not, her mother would be seeking her out and making a scene. It was better to get it out of the way, make an appearance, then feign a headache . . . all in such an order. He led her out to the floor and swung her around, placing his hands improperly at first, causing Isabel to correct him before they could move on. She winced as his boot made contact with her toe and she forced herself to focus over his shoulder and not on his severely deprived dancing skills. If she made it through the dance unscathed, she would be fortunate indeed.

  As she gazed around the room, avoiding any reason to look upon the man before her, a familiar face whirled by and Isabel’s breath seized in her chest, unable to believe what she had seen. When he whirled by again, he turned his head and their eyes locked, surprise filtering on his handsome face. Alexander! Alexander is here?

  Chapter 4

  “My dear, you are out of step,” William chided as Isabel attempted to gain her composure. After so long, she would have thought his features would have changed, but to her, he looked like the same man who had returned from Eton all too briefly before departing for a life at sea, the only change being the deep tan of his skin. Why had he not come calling on her? When had he returned? She desperately wanted to see him, have him take her hands in his. She would explain that she had been waiting for him and together they would speak to her father. She was not yet betrothed to William. Surely her parents would not force her to marry him now that Alexander was home.

  But he hadn’t called upon her. The realization was a blow to her heart.

  Isabel is here. Alexander looked over his dance partner’s shoulder once more, catching just a glimpse of her before she and her own partner disappeared into the sea of other dancers. The moment their eyes locked, he felt that warmth he always felt with her spread throughout his chest. She was with a man he assumed to be her betrothed, a man much older than her. Surely, she was not planning to marry this oaf? Perhaps his mother was mistaken.

  “M-my Lord, you are stepping on my slippers.”

  Alexander looked down at the woman who was currently his dance partner and gave her an apologetic smile. “I do apologize. I found myself distracted by your beauty.” She flushed charmingly and he sighed inwardly, grateful that the dance was almost over. When the final strains of the music echoed in the ballroom, Alexander stepped back immediately from his partner and bowed, his eyes already searching for Isabel. He found her next to a potted palm, her eyes widening as she saw him approach. “A-Alexander?” her tone held confusion.

  “Isabel,” he murmured. “You are looking lovely tonight.”

  She did not answer, but instead looked at him, hurt registering over her face. “When did you return? Why have you not called on me?” There was no mistaking the ached in her voice.

  He wanted to reach out for her and take her in his arms. To ask if it was true that she was betrothed to another. To declare his desire for her. He would maintain his composure, certain that all would be revealed as an error and they would laugh and sigh at the nonsense of it all.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” he replied, “and that you are to be married.” He nodded in the direction of William who was straining to squeeze through the crowd in search of her. Alexander ached to touch her, to comfort her, but he remained still. Just tell me it is all a misunderstanding.

  She bit her lower lip. “No, well, I’m . . . ,“ Isabel started.

  “There you are, my dear. I’ve brought you some lemonade.” William approached Isabel and Alexander, completely oblivious to the chemistry between them and the manner in which they were gazing into one another’s eyes.

  “Lieutenant Viscount St. John, sir,” Alexander introduced himself, “son of your host and hostess this evening. And you are?”

  “William Lambert, your lordship,” replied William, “heir to the Wyndham estate and soon to make this lovely lady my bride.”

  The confirmation of his worst thoughts were like a stab to his heart. “Then I wish you well.” Alexander retreated a step and turned to take their leave, nearly colliding with his mother as he tried to disappear into the crowd of spectators enjoying the festivities from the perimeter of the dance floor. It’s true. She is marrying him!

  “I believe ’tis time for your dance with Lady Charlotte,” the Countess said cheerily, gently tugging on Alexander’s coat sleeve. Alexander paused and turned to take one last glance in Isabel’s direction. She appeared to be absorbed in conversation with her betrothed whose hand was placed familiarly on her arm. Just one glance in his direction, if he could only catch her eye, he was certain he could see if there were still feelings between them. Look at me, Isabel. Just one glance would be a sign that you still care for me.

  “Alexander, Lady Charlotte is waiting,” his mother reminded him, a tone in her voice telling him he should have already been on the dance floor. Alexander turned and walked towards his eager dance partner, his heart aching.

  “How dare you tell Lord Alexander that I shall be your bride when we are not betrothed,” Isabel spit the words at William to his stunned surprise.

  “My dear,” he protested, caressing her arm in a gesture that disgusted Isabel.

  She broke away from him and turned to look for Alexander, but he had been swallowed into the crowd and she could not see him. Alexander, ’tis not true. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

  Isabel strained her neck in search of Alexander, wishing she could call him back and explain everything, to make him understand that this was not her intention, but that of her parents wanting to see her married. He surely thought the worst of her and her heart broke in return.

  With a pain increasing in her chest, Isabel spotted him as he took Lady Charlotte’s hand and led her to the dance floor, making a striking couple as they took their places amongst the other patrons. Lady Charlotte was titled and wealthy, not to mention her flawless features and demeanor that was popular throughout the ton. She would make the perfect wife for a future Earl. Isabel doubted that Lady Charlotte had ever run through the woods without her bonnet or rolled in the grass, staining her new dress. Did Alexander want a perfect woman or one that he could be himself with? Isabel was certain she knew him better than his own mother did. Alexander would never be happy with such a woman. Isabel would slip away from the estate tomorrow and go see him. Yes, she would speak to him and clear up this misunderstanding.

  “They surely are the perfect couple,” she heard the Countess remark to her companion, a happy sigh in her exuberant voice. “I have a feeling we shall be celebrating another event entirely in the next few days.”

  “What would that be?” the matron asked, the eagerness in her voice causing Isabel to take pause. She knew the matron well and no doubt wanted to share the gossip before anyone else did so the credit would go to her in all of the society pages.

  “Why an engagement and hasty wedding as soon as it can be arranged,” the Countess exclaimed, deliberately loud enough for Isabel to hear over the din of the crowd.

  “Hasty?” The matron’s eyebrows raised in question. “You don’t mean . . . “

  “No, no, no,” the Countess blushed at the scandalous suggestion that a hasty marriage was a necessity. “Alexander made it clear to me only last week that he wishes to take a bride before he returns to his commission with the navy. Lady Charlotte will make a lovely countess someday. And he did say that he hoped our first grandchild would follow as soon as possible.” The ladies tittered as Lady Hertford discretely glanced in Isabel’s direction to determine if she had taken note of their conversation.

  Last week? How long had Alexander been home? She would not call on Alexander tomorrow, not after what she had overheard.

  Not wanting to hear any more, she walked away, tears blurring her eyes as she moved through the crush in search of her parents. Alexander was going to marry Lady Charlotte and she w
as stuck with William. It was a sad turn of events. It should have been a much different future for them both, yet life was not being kind to her.

  Chapter 5

  Isabel moved through the garden, running her fingers over the last of the roses that were left as the summer gave way to the cooler temperatures of fall. She enjoyed this season, the ability to roam over the lands without sweltering in her stays and petticoats. She also enjoyed this time of day, just before the sun set over the treetops and gave way to nightfall. The time where the stars would come out and fill the night sky. It reminded her of the nights she and Alexander had lain in the meadows, picking out the brightest ones to claim as their own. There were many memories of her and Alexander over the years, many wonderful ones she would not ever share with anyone else. Alexander had made her fearless, pushing her to be her best at everything from tree climbing to fishing. Being a girl, he had never once acknowledged her any differently than himself with the exception of their last conversation before his turn at Eton.

  She’d had little idea that he had developed a tenderness for her and somewhere in the course of their time together, she had done the same for him. But now, they were apart once more, like two ships sailing past but never once able to truly see the other.

  She dropped her fingers from the ruby red rose and sighed, taking a seat on the stone bench located deep in the garden. Alexander had left on his commission over a month ago, though she had not seen him after the debacle at his commencement ball. What she did learn, though, is that he had not offered for the hand of Lady Charlotte like the Countess had claimed he would before he left. It had taken a social call to the young woman to find out, but in the end, it had given Isabel just a thread of hope. She had to be patient and pray and wait. Not to mention avoid William just a bit longer.

  So far, it had worked. For a month, Isabel had done everything humanly possible to stay away from her suitor. She had taken up long walks in the evening when he would visit her father, or reading by the old fort that once was Alexander’s and her childhood space. When she was forced to spend time with William in the company of her parents, she kept the conversation mundane and uninteresting so that he would not walk away with any thoughts that she was actually entertaining the idea of marrying him. Just the other night he had attempted to turn the conversation to their wedding and Isabel had feigned a headache and left the room before he could settle on a date and have them married before the night was out. William was in a hurry to have them wed and Isabel would rather throw herself off a cliff than to do so.

  Most of all, Isabel spent her time thinking about Alexander, what kind of danger he must be in and how alone he must feel at times. She knew she felt horribly alone at times, without anyone to really understand what she wanted in her life.

  Oh, Alexander. Isabel rested her chin in her hand and looked out into the garden, wishing she could just blend in with the scenery and never return to her life as it was. It was not what she had pictured.

  Benjamin Wyndham sat behind his massive oak desk and regarded the man in front of him, a man who at one time had pleased him greatly. No longer did he feel the same as he had about his cousin, who was currently using his fingernail to pick the roast they had eaten at dinner out of his teeth. This was not the man he would want to take care of his one and only daughter, and it pained him that he would inherit his lands one day.

  “I cannot understand why she will not spend time with me,” William was currently expressing to him, sounding like a whiny child instead of the man he was supposed to be. “I am all a woman would wish for in a husband.”

  Benjamin held back a snort of disbelief, knowing all too well how his daughter felt about this man. He had thought she would be able to look past his flaws and accept him for what he was, but even Benjamin himself was finding it hard to do.

  “I am a romantic, well-traveled gentleman who can provide for her,” William continued, his high pitched voice giving Benjamin a small headache. “What more could she want?”

  “Indeed,” Benjamin finally said, tiring of the man. Clearing his throat, he said, “I believe that I have a headstrong daughter on my hands that is proving very difficult to please.”

  Had he really meant to marry his beloved daughter to this man? Surely not. If he couldn’t stand his presence after only a few moments, Isabel wouldn’t be able to either. She was so much like him and less of her mother, a free spirit who enjoyed the outdoors and the unconventional things that a woman should not enjoy. He had been too lenient on her, therefore having the trouble as he had with her today.

  “Oh, I can please her,” William said, a lewd smile on his lips as he practically panted like a puppy dog. He caught himself as Wyndham’s eyes widened and lips curled downward in a scowl. William cleared his throat. “I mean, I can give her the comfortable life she has here.”

  “Of course, you can,” Benjamin forced out. “But perhaps we’ve gone about this all wrong. Affection cannot be forced upon one as, er . . . sensitive, as Isabel. I suggest you go to London, cousin, and give her some space. You have your townhouse there and the social season must be in full swing by now.”

  William’s expression grew pensive. “Should I not press my suit though? If I am not here, how will I achieve her hand?”

  “Why not leave it to me to speak with her on the matter?” Benjamin replied, wanting the man out of his study and out of his house as soon as possible. “Let me reason with her and, as soon as I have accomplished such, I will send word for you to return.” There would be no wedding as far as he was concerned, but he would write to William at a later time explaining such. It was clear to him that Isabel had another plan in mind and it did not agree with this one.

  “Perhaps you are right, cousin,” William finally relented, pushing himself out of the chair and standing. “I shall get my valet to begin packing immediately. I do love a good rout during the season. I shall start to look for things to make my intended happy and practice for when she is willing.”

  Benjamin nodded and watched his cousin depart from the room, letting out an exhausted breath in return. He would not press the issue of marriage to William with Isabel any longer. The man was a buffoon and ill-suited to be a proper husband to his precious daughter. Perhaps she would start conversing with him again now that he had eliminated William as a suitor. He was wrong about William and he would admit as much to his daughter and apologize to her for his error.

  Chapter 6

  Isabel gripped the handle of the basket tightly as she walked to the post from the market, glad that her mother had let her out of the house for this short errand. The cook needed herbs for tonight’s meal and Isabel had volunteered to make the short walk in an effort to clear her head and think about the future.

  William had left shortly before breakfast, stating that he had some business to attend to in London. For once, she had given him a generous smile and told him to enjoy his time there, glad that he was going to be out of her hair now. Her father even seemed a bit more cheerful as the coach had lumbered down the drive, giving her shoulder a small squeeze and winking at her before walking back inside. Perhaps they had realized she wasn’t going to marry him unless they dragged her down the aisle and had relented. She was just glad he was gone.

  Isabel strolled into the inn where the post typically was kept and walked up to the small bar top, smiling as she recognized the young girl behind the counter. “Do you have any letters for me today, Nellie?” she asked the young innkeeper’s daughter. Nellie was of the same age as Isabel, though their lifestyles were vastly different. Sometimes, however, Isabel longed to exchange lives, if even for a day, to see what the lifestyle of a woman without the need to marry unless she wanted was like.

  “Matter of fact, I do,” Nellie grinned as she handed Isabel a water stained envelope addressed to her, the front worn in many places as if it had traveled a long distance to get to her. “Arrived just this morning.”

  Isabel gripped the letter and said her goodbyes, waiting until
she had left the inn before ripping it open and pulling out the creamy vellum. Unfolding it, she gasped as she recognized the thick scrawl.

  My dearest Isabel,

  I write this as I board a coach bound for Portsmouth. As you might well already know, I did not ask for Lady Charlotte’s hand. I do not find her as refreshing as you are nor could I tolerate her endless giggling. The woman would have driven me to distraction and not in a way I would imagine my future wife should.

  Isabel giggled at that statement, glad to realize that Alexander had not lost his sense of humor.

  I have also learned the most distressing news about your own betrothal and I cannot apologize enough that I did not give you a chance to explain. My father informed me as we said our good-byes this morning that you have been given no say in the matter and are being forced to consider the proposal to Mr. Lambert. I hope that you have fought back fervently against such an arrangement as I imagine you would. He is not the man you should consider, but myself, if you will have me after all of the grief I have caused you.

  Oh, yes. I would have you even now, Alexander. A tear was sliding down her cheek, blinding her ability to read the rest of the letter.

  I implore you, my dear sweet Isabel, to wait for me. I plan to complete this mission and return home to you so that we may be wed. I should have done it long ago, but circumstances kept me from doing so. I intend not to make the same mistake again.

  This is my heart’s desire and I only pray that it is also yours.

  Affectionately yours, Alexander

  Isabel could not help but sigh happily at the thought of marrying Alexander. He still wants to marry me. The Countess had been wrong. It was she and Alexander that made the perfect couple, not he and Lady Charlotte.