Loving the Earl: A Loveswept Historical Romance Read online

  “Please don’t make this more difficult.”

  Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft shuffling of the cards. If he put the deck down, he would touch her and he was almost positive that touching her would not be a good thing right now.

  “I like you, Claire.”

  Her lips thinned and he had a feeling he’d said the wrong thing.

  “That’s nice,” she said primly.

  Nice? He’d just told her something he’d never told another woman before and she thought it nice?

  “What will happen when we reach Venice?” he asked.

  She looked away. “You will find the answers regarding your father’s death and I will find Gabrielle.”

  “And the lover you’re searching for?”

  Her gaze flew to his and the color in her face deepened to a dull red. “That’s a highly improper question.”

  “Is it?” He leaned forward, his anger barely restrained. “Because you see, Claire, I don’t find it improper. Not after what we experienced. In fact, I find it very proper, indeed. I’d like to know what my lover’s plans are.”

  Her fingers convulsed in her lap. “Please don’t do this.”

  Anger roared through him, so hot and potent that he was surprised the snow outside the carriage didn’t melt. He pounded the seat beside him. “Damn it, Claire! I don’t want you to find another lover. I want to be your lover.”

  “Oh, Nathan.” She pressed a hand to her closed eyes. “This is so complicated.”

  “I find it very simple. We enjoy each other’s company, do we not?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Then where is the complication?”

  She lowered her hand to pin him with a defeated look. “For all my talk of wanting to break free of society’s restraints, I find I can’t fully separate myself from the rules I grew up with. Finding an Italian lover is one thing.” Her hands fluttered about her then fell to her lap. “That’s … fleeting. Temporary. But to return to England, to flaunt society’s rules so openly, I can’t do that. To my brothers or to you.”

  He almost laughed. She worried about his reputation? What reputation other than that of a gambler, a drunkard and a rake? And then the words he’d been fighting came out and he found that he wasn’t as shocked as he should have been to say them. “Who said anything about us living a scandalous life?”

  Her head jerked up and she looked at him with her lips parted in what he assumed was shock. “What are you saying?”

  What was he saying? And yet it was perfectly clear what he was saying. He didn’t want Claire as a lover. He didn’t want to be forced to hide his feelings from society. He didn’t want clandestine meetings and hurried rendezvous. He didn’t want her to live a life of scandal. He wanted her permanently, legally and in the religious sense.

  “I’m saying I want to marry you.”

  Her eyes widened and the color drained from her face. She swayed. Turbulent silence swirled around them. Like the moments before a summer storm hit, the atmosphere became charged.

  “I can’t marry you,” she whispered.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Nathan refused to show emotion, keeping a tight rein on the acute disappointment that stabbed through him.

  “When Richard died I swore I would never marry again. I told myself that a convent would be far better than marriage.”

  “So becoming a nun is better than being married to me. I understand. The owner of a gaming hell isn’t husband material.” He’d opened his business knowing it would destroy any chance of procuring an acceptable wife and he’d been fine with his decision. But after knowing Claire, he realized what a mistake he’d made. Not all women were like his mother.

  “No!” She grabbed his hand. “No. That’s not it at all. If there’s one thing I learned it’s that marriage to a respectable man doesn’t mean anything. You’ve taught me that a person’s reputation isn’t necessarily the same as what’s inside. It’s just … Richard—”

  “Richard’s dead, Claire. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you?”

  She withdrew her hand and twisted her fingers into the fabric of her gown. “Of course I do.”

  “So you will continue with this plan to find a lover?”

  “No,” she said softly.

  “Why abandon your plan now?”

  For a long time she looked out the window and he was reminded of their journey to Paris, of how uncomfortable she’d been with him. She’d come a long way since then, both in miles and in the way she interacted with him. She still flinched in the odd moments when his anger took her by surprise, but she wasn’t nearly as timid as she’d been. He found comfort in that, if nothing else.

  “Richard …” Her fingers twisted the fabric until he felt certain it would tear. She seemed to notice for she smoothed the wrinkles out, fiercely concentrating on them. “He wasn’t a nice man.”

  “He was a bastard.”

  She smiled, not the sunny smile she’d given him when she won at piquet but a sad smile. “Yes, he was a bastard. He, uh … He was always disappointed in my performance. In bed.”

  Nathan’s fingers curled into his palm. He suppressed his anger although it took every bit of self-restraint to do so.

  “I wanted to find a lover to prove I wasn’t as cold and unfeeling as he said I was.” She focused all her attention on her wrinkles, tracing them with the tip of her index finger. “Even though he’s dead, I still needed to prove it.”

  Nathan had to forcefully unclench his teeth. How the bastard thought Claire was a disappointment was beyond him. She was exquisitely sensual, inquisitive and bold. If she was a disappointment it was only because Richard wasn’t willing to teach her what she needed to learn. And that was Richard’s fault, not Claire’s.

  “He was wrong.”

  Claire finally looked up at him.

  “You’re definitely not a disappointment.”

  She licked her lips and swallowed. “It seems a bit crass to say thank you. But thank you.”

  “There’s no reason to thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

  “You taught me that it wasn’t me who was a disappointment. Whatever Richard was searching for, he didn’t find it in me and he was the one disappointed.” She tilted her head. “I found what I was looking for. Validation. Proof that I wasn’t cold and unfeeling. I don’t need an Italian lover to prove that to me.”

  “So what now? Where do you go from here?”

  She shrugged and looked back down at her hands. “I don’t know. All I know is that my life is my own and I can do anything I wish.” She looked at him, that mischievous twinkle in her eye again. “That is, if I had my money.”

  Nathan reached into his coat pocket and removed the wad of money, tossing it into her lap.

  For a long moment she looked down at it before curling her fingers around it. “Thank you.”

  He leaned forward. “If you were my wife, I would make it my life’s work to never make you feel inadequate. I would never tell you what to do or how to act. If you wanted to walk around in men’s breeches, I would not even bat an eye.” He sat back. “Think of that, Claire.”

  Their passage into Italy was met with little fanfare. Brother Dieter had promised that the driver knew his way and was adept at maneuvering through the mountainous pass and Dieter had been correct. Snow eventually gave way to green grass, olive trees and warm breezes.

  The last part of their journey was made mostly in silence, for which Claire was grateful. She needed the time to think clearly, something she couldn’t do while Nathan was talking to her.

  Damn the man!

  She’d been convinced she would never marry again. She’d been looking forward to taking control of her own life. And what did he do once again? He turned her world upside down and her beliefs inside out. Their lovemaking had been wonderful, adventurous, titillating and a learning experience. Not just in technique but for the fact that she finally
believed she wasn’t anything like what Richard painted her to be. She wasn’t cold and unfeeling. She wasn’t a limp fish.

  And it also made her think of other things. Of things she’d refused to think of before she met Nathan. He made her wonder what life would be like as Countess Blythe. Wear breeches, indeed. Yet the thought had been planted and continued to grow. Not that she would ever wear breeches. Emmaline did that and even Claire thought it was odd. But the possibility was there and all she’d ever wanted was possibilities.

  She looked at him from beneath half-lowered lids, contemplating things she’d never contemplated before. A marriage based on mutual admiration. A husband who accepted her as she was.

  What if …

  What if he was right?

  They already knew they were compatible in bed. More than compatible. Just the thought of what they’d done brought heat to her cheeks. But could they live together? What if they weren’t compatible in other aspects of their relationship? And what of his reputation and his business dealings?

  She didn’t care about any of that. What she’d told him was true. Richard had been entirely respectable, beyond reproach. Or so some believed. But what was inside was hideous and twisted. Nathan was reviled for how he made his money, for turning his back on society and not conforming, yet on the inside he was more a gentleman than Richard had ever been.

  She huffed out a breath. Ridiculous thinking. Stick to your original plan. Stay in Italy a few weeks.

  Then what?

  Return home and live on the charity of her brother? Rusticate in the dowager’s house and become the reclusive unmarried sister? A month ago that sounded divine. Now that she’d had an adventure with Nathan, it sounded boring.

  What about love? Her mind whispered the question over and over. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, it persisted, louder each time. What about love?

  She’d fought the idea of love while at the hospice and continued to do so. She had no idea what love felt like. Oh, she loved Sebastian and he loved her in his own way. She loved Nicholas and she loved Emmaline like she would a sister. But that love was completely different from a love between a husband and a wife.

  She’d thought she’d loved Richard, but that had been elusive and short-lived. In reality she loved the idea of being married to such a powerful man. What love could have grown between them shriveled and died in the face of his anger and violence.

  Richard lied to her, but Nathan never had. For all he did do to her, never once had he lied.

  “What do you plan on doing once you leave Venice?” she asked.

  He contemplated her for several heartbeats. “Return to London. I’ve been investing in some companies. I’ve discovered that investing isn’t so different from gambling. The risks are greater but the payoffs can be enormous.”

  “So you’ll play at a more acceptable form of gambling?”

  “I guess you can say that.”

  “I admire you.”

  He tipped his head to the side, focusing on Claire. “What do you admire?”

  “You don’t care what others think. You’re willing to live your life on your own terms. That’s what I wanted when I started this journey, but I guess I’m not suited for that sort of life.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  She made a dismissive sound. “I couldn’t even make it off English soil without losing my luggage and my maid.”

  “You could have turned around and gone back to your brother once you reached Calais. Instead you continued on.”

  “And was attacked by highwaymen.”

  “One of which you took down on your own. You also planned ahead by bringing your jewels.”

  “Which you promptly stole,” she said, intending to make him laugh.

  But instead of laughing, he studied her solemnly. “The point is, Claire, you’re resourceful. You’re determined and you don’t let life break you.” He caught the hand that she was waving in the air in dismissal of all he had to say. He kissed her knuckles, causing her to still. “No. Don’t diminish who you are. Richard did that to you for too long.”

  She breathed deep, moved by his words. No one had ever described her in that way before and a part of her began to believe him. She had done all of that.

  “What if …” She swallowed. “What if we married and we found we didn’t suit? What if we didn’t get along?”

  “I doubt that will happen. My life has been very interesting since meeting you. I don’t see that changing.”

  Was she seriously contemplating marriage to Nathan? What a bizarre turn of events, and yet when she pictured her life without him all she saw was a long road of dullness, broken by occasional visits from her brothers and their family. However, when she thought of life with Nathan, the word that came to mind was adventure, and wasn’t that what this journey had been all about? Experiencing an adventure?

  “I just don’t know,” she whispered.

  Nathan released her fingers and sat back. “There’s no need to make a decision now. Think about it.”

  She laughed. “I can’t even believe I’m considering it. When I left England, marriage was the last thing on my mind.”

  “Mine as well.”

  “Are we mad to even be thinking this?”

  “Probably.”

  “What will people say?”

  “Do you really care?”

  She thought about that for a moment. “I care what my family says, but other than that, no. What about you? What about your mother?”

  His expression twisted into distaste. “My mother and I rarely speak and when we do it’s mainly about what a disappointment I am to her. I don’t care one whit what she thinks although I believe she would be pleased by you. You have the right breeding and background.”

  Claire wrinkled her nose. “That’s exactly how I like to be viewed. As a broodmare.”

  “Believe me, that’s not at all how I think of you.”

  “Why do you want to marry me?” she asked.

  “Because you’re refreshing. Because I found that I’m weary of my life and, yes, my reputation. Gambling served me well. I’ve refilled my coffers. My finances are stable and it’s time to move on to more acceptable pursuits. I’d like society to welcome me again so that doors may open that have previously been closed to me.”

  The tiny spurt of disappointment was unexpected and unwarranted. Once again, Nathan was being pragmatic and truthful. A trait she highly admired in him. He didn’t bluff with her, instead he laid his hand on the table for all to see like the gambler that he was.

  “And your … business?”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I have a business partner who’s been making noises of buying out my half of the establishment. I’ve brushed Rutherford’s offers off but now find myself seriously considering them.”

  “Because of me?” She sounded as if she was fishing for compliments but she really wasn’t. She needed to know what he thought of her.

  “Because of you and because it’s time for me to move on to more acceptable pursuits. Why are you considering marrying me?”

  The question caught her off guard. Why was she considering marrying him? She certainly couldn’t tell him it was because she considered life without him dull and depressing, and she wasn’t yet ready to admit to herself, let alone him, that she might be in love with him.

  “Because you’ve been nothing but honest with me,” she finally said, settling on the partial truth.

  A strange expression crossed his face, almost like pain. There and gone, making her think she was seeing things that weren’t truly there. “What about your independence? Your rebellion?”

  Is that what he thought of her? That she was merely being rebellious?

  “I hardly think of myself as rebellious. I merely want to live my life my way.”

  “Isn’t that being rebellious? Women rarely live their lives the way they want. Neither do men for that matter. We’re all caught up in society and its rules. After all, a society without
rules is merely chaos.”

  “True.” She contemplated him for a few moments. “Were you being truthful when you said you wouldn’t tell me how to behave?”

  “Absolutely.” He settled his elbow on the small window ledge and rested his chin on his fingers. “The thing about you, Claire, is that you’re willing to do the right thing. You’re willing to act the lady when circumstances call for it. The problem is no one has trusted you to do so.”

  She’d never thought of it that way before and yet in a way he was correct. Everyone simply assumed she wouldn’t know what to do, couldn’t make the correct choices.

  “Thank you for having faith in me. I wouldn’t embarrass you. If I decided to marry you,” she added hastily.

  He grinned. “You could never embarrass me, Claire.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Nathan turned away from Claire so she wouldn’t see the spasm of guilt that dug its ugly claws into him. The fact that she had even contemplated marrying him had given him hope. Until she thanked him for being honest with her.

  If he’d been honest with her, he would have told her from the beginning that Sebastian had asked him to watch out for her. Instead he’d kept it to himself until it was too late. What was he supposed to say now? By the way, Claire, our meeting wasn’t as innocent as you first believed?

  “We’re in Venice.” He settled for the inane instead of the candid.

  Eagerly she looked out the window while he contemplated her. Did she need to know of Sebastian’s plans? After all, Sebastian had asked him to look out for her only until they reached France. The rest he’d done on his own. Out of a sense of responsibility, of course. Among other things.

  Yet Claire would never think of it that way.

  “Oh, it’s so beautiful. Look at the canals. And the gondolas. The buildings are magnificent.” She stared wide-eyed out the window, like a child with her nose pressed to the window on a snowy afternoon.

  “Do you have the contessa’s direction?” he asked.

  She rattled off the directions while continuing to look outside. “I’ve written to her for so many years I have it memorized,” she added.