Page 3 of Enticed By an Earl
Kit’s heart gave a slight stutter. He knew Lord Deveraux Ogilvy, or at least he knew of him. Lord Deveraux was the third son of the Marquess of Russell and was vaguely part of the same circles his own family was part of. His mother always spoke of the man with a measure of disapproval and his father had always seemed somewhat intimidated by his reputation. There was something about the man that marked him as formidable but not quite worthy, but Kit had no idea what that could be.
All he knew was that Lord Deveraux was incrediblyhandsome, with broad shoulders, a trim waist, and strong arms. His features were pleasingly chiseled, his eyes were a stunning blue, and the few times when Kit had been in the man’s presence, he’d had a difficult time containing his admiration for the man’s form.
“Lady Russell is one of those hosting a ball during the week of the coronation,” Lady Everly said, pulling Kit out of his thoughts. “I could arrange for you all to have invitations, if you’d like to attend.”
“Oh, yes, please!” Georgiana said enthusiastically. She sat a bit straighter and added, “Mama would have to approve, of course, but I cannot imagine she would deny an invitation from a marchioness.”
“My mother certainly would not,” Alice added.
“I will see what can be done,” Lady Everly said with a nod. “And now, let us discuss what we shall wear to all these balls.”
Kit let out a breath, feeling as if he had finally found the place where he belonged. He was uncommonly lucky to have found a group of friends who both knew and understood him and who did not abhor his abnormalities. Instead, his three friends embraced who he was and who he wished to be.
His father likely would have called the constable on the lot of them if he knew just how Kit was able to deport himself and how accepting of that Lady Everly, Georgiana, and Alice were. Taking tea and gossiping with the other ladies was the exact opposite of everything he wished Kit to be.
But that was who Kit was. He was gentle and refined. He was as feminine as it was possible for him to be with the physical form he’d been born into. If he could change that form and become something and someone else entirely he would in an instant. He knew, deep in his soul, that hebelonged in the world of women, as one of them, far more than he did in the world of men.
He stayed in that comfortable place where he could be himself for as long as was possible. Georgiana and Alice left so that they could attend supper at their own homes, but Lady Everly invited Kit to dine with her. The afternoon turned into evening and the sun began to set before Kit summoned his courage to leave the one place where he was happy and where he could be himself to return to the house that was a home in name only.
“I do wish there was more I could do for you,” Lady Everly said as she made her goodbyes in her front hall. “I know how trying this life is for you.” She rested her hand on the side of Kit’s face.
Kit had washed off the powder and rouge in preparation for returning to the life he’d been cursed with and leaned his face into her touch.
“Thank you, Lady Everly,” he said, still allowing his voice to be soft and feminine. “You’ve no idea what your friendship means to me.”
“Have a care, my dear,” Lady Everly said, stepping back so that Kit could go.
He hated leaving. He hated stepping out of the one place he felt safe and into the darkening world. The last thing he wanted was to rejoin the family that despised him, who he truly was, but he could not see any way out of that life.
He thought about his options as he walked away from Berkeley Square. He’d longed to leave his family home to set up some sort of house, or even rooms, for himself, but despite his title of Earl of Castleton, his father kept a tight hold of all purse strings associated with the family. Kit could not access a penny of his income, and he had no way to earn income of his own. The only possibility for independence and a life lived the way he wanted to live that he could seewas to marry, but that brought so many other difficulties with it that?—
Kit’s thoughts were cut short as a thick-set man dressed all in black, his face concealed by a scarf, stepped out of the alley between two houses. Kit could not see his face, but his shape was exactly that of the man his father had whispered to at the boxing hall. Without warning or making demands, he launched himself at Kit, slamming a fist into his gut.
Shocked by the attack and by the wretched pain that radiated through him, Kit did nothing but gust out a breath and double over. The attacker came at him again, slamming a hand into the side of his face, then wrestling a stunned Kit into a position where he held Kit’s head and shoulders.
For one, terrifying moment, Kit knew that his attacker was going to snap his neck. He had the strength and the hold to do it. That was it, that was the moment he would die.
A second later, his attacker was wrenched aside by a third man. Kit was so stunned by the shift that he barely heard the man’s shout of, “Unhand him!”
Kit stumbled to the side, losing his balance and spilling to the path. His head spun and the world refused to make sense for a moment. He thought that the new man and the attacker had words or struggled, but within moments, his attacker ran off into the darkness.
Kit groaned and clutched his stomach, wanting only to weep at the terrifying turn of events.
“Are you well?” the man who had swooped in to rescue him asked.
Kit was not well. He had not been well in years. But as he turned his face up and gazed at the man who had rescued him, his heart skipped a beat.
He was staring straight up into the handsome face of Lord Deveraux Ogilvy.
Two
The very last thing Deveraux Ogilvy wished to be doing on a perfectly agreeable Wednesday evening was saying goodbye to Marianne.
“Have you taken everything you wish?” he asked as he leaned against the gilded chest of drawers in the bedchamber of the rooms he owned in the fashionable townhouse at the edge of Mayfair, where Marianne had been living for the past year.
“Yes, I have,” Marianne said, sending Dev a sad smile over her shoulder from where she stood by the small collection of bags resting on the bed.
“Are you quite certain?” Dev asked. “That seems like a pitiable collection of baggage for all of your earthly belongings.”
