Page 10 of West End Earl
The couple snickered. Lottie said, “I like Adam. He’s young, but he has kind eyes.”
Pushing the now-empty plate aside, Cal cradled the coffee cup between his hands and tried to relax his shoulders from where they’d crept up near his ears. “Young, but he’s a solid fellow. We’re taking Emma to Vauxhall tonight, if you’d like to come along.”
The couple exchanged a look, then Lottie nodded. “Let’s dine here first. Their portions are appallingly small.”
Ethan sighed. “Aye. Elf food and fireworks, it is.”
“Perfect.” Cal refilled his cup from the silver carafe and rose. “With that to look forward to, I’m afraid I need to go. My schedule is full. I’m due at the tailor’s in a bit, but first I have to deal with Roxbury. Which is sure to be a fun time. On top of that, Father requested I call. Let’s all hope he hasn’t spawned another illegitimate child.”
***
A short drive later, the butler at the club informed him that Lord Roxbury had left for home after gaming all night.
Cal’s carriage pulled up three doors down from Roxbury’s tidy residence. He called up to his coachman, “Hobby, have someone check the mews behind the house. Make sure his lordship is home.”
Ten minutes later the young tiger, Walter, returned, slightly out of breath. “He arrived about a quarter hour ago, your lordship.”
“Very good. Circle the square. I won’t be long.”
Cal whistled a cheerful tune as he made his way down the pavement and climbed the steps to the town house. The butler answered his knock but didn’t bother glancing at Cal’s card this time before stating that Lord Roxbury wasn’t at home.
Donning his most charming smile, Cal tipped his hat brim at a rakish angle with one finger. “Then you won’t mind if I wait inside. Roxbury is expecting me,” he lied.
“I’m afraid, milord, that won’t be poss—”
Cal missed the rest as he brushed past the butler and strode up the staircase to where he assumed the family rooms were. Behind him, the retainer gawked, and Cal waved a hand over his shoulder. “I’ll tell him I overpowered you. This will only take a moment.”
A maid in the hallway on the second floor pointed the way to the master’s rooms. Cal gave a cursory knock on the door, then walked in.
“Your butler is sputtering in the front hall, cursing my name, and will probably send a burly footman to drag me away posthaste, so let’s make this quick, shall we?” Cal kicked the door closed behind him, then turned the key in the lock to buy him a few extra minutes in case his prediction wasn’t far off.
“What the devil do you want, Carlyle?” Roxbury’s jaw was rough with late-night bristles, his eyes were red-rimmed, and a pungent wave of alcohol and perfume—thankfully, not Emma’s preferred scent—wafted across the room when he spoke.
Wincing, Cal said, “You look like hell, man.”
Roxbury shrugged. “I’ll be right as rain once I sleep. I repeat, what do you want?”
“I need to know your intentions regarding my sister.”
The other man chuckled, which turned into a full-on guffaw while he shrugged out of his evening coat. “Did she put you up to this? Damn, dance with a chit a few times and they hear wedding bells.”
A glassy calm settled over Cal, not unlike the smooth surface of a peaceful loch hiding a sea serpent in its depths. “My sister’s emotions aren’t a laughing matter. But I fear you’re toying with them, and that is not something I will stand for.”
“Emma doesn’t have any such reservations. In fact, she’s been most…eager to get to know me.” Roxbury smirked as he unwound his limp cravat and dropped it on the floor, then started on his waistcoat buttons.
At the implication, Cal’s hands clenched, but nothing would be solved if he blackened the man’s eye. Although it would be bloody satisfying.
“You won’t speak of Emma that way. Not now, not ever. Are we clear? You obviously don’t have honorable intentions, so your involvement with her ends now. No more rides in the park. No more dances. If she approaches you, you’ll greet her civilly, then walk away.” Such treatment would break her heart in the short term but save her future pain. It would be agonizing to witness, but Cal couldn’t stand idly by while she wasted her debut Season on a scoundrel like the sot before him.
“You want me gone?” Roxbury’s waistcoat joined the pile of clothing on the floor, and for a moment, Cal pitied the man’s valet. Cal’s manservant, Kingston, would make his life hell if Cal dared disrespect his clothing like that. In his shirtsleeves, Roxbury sauntered toward him.
“She deserves better than you. If you’re not planning to marry her, then you need to leave her alone.”
Roxbury seemed to consider that, but his smirk didn’t bode well for the conversation. “Two thousand pounds.”
Cal cocked his head. “I beg your pardon. You expect me to pay you to do the right thing? We are talking about protecting a young lady from a good family. The daughter of a marquess.”
Roxbury untucked his shirt from his trousers. “You want me to leave your precious sister alone? Two thousand pounds. For that, I’ll abandon the field to a suitably pasty fellow of your choosing.”
