Page 28 of Entrancing the Earl
Gerard clenched fists, molars, and lips to prevent steam from escaping. Inhaling carefully, he managed not to shout. “You are doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Couldn’t you simply ask me to take you to Edinburgh and negotiate with Winter? Why torture me?”
Her eyes widened just a little. “I don’t know why my choosing my future would be torture for you. And I have no idea if you’re a good negotiator.”
No one had any idea what he could do, including himself. He’d never really been given the opportunity. But his cranium held encyclopedias of knowledge—and apparently the voice of a Roman soldier who chuckled.
“You don’t need a good negotiator, you need a magician,” Gerard told her callously. “There is no way on heaven, earth, or hell that Parliament will allow an American to be an earl. You can petition foryourletters patent, if you like, so you can claim the title, lands, and vote. But he will never be allowed to be anything more than Lord Arthur, your consort.”
“He doesn’t know that, though, does he?” she asked, looking thoughtful. “If I’m given letters patent, then I can vote? That would be singularly amusing. I think Isobel would enjoy it more than I would though.”
“You mean your sister is even more of a managing female than you?” he asked, unable to quell the horror in his voice.
The lady laughed. “My sister is much quieter and more devious. She likes managing books and leaves people to me. I’ve often thought that together, we might make one whole person. I’m not certain either of us has what it takes to be a parliamentarian, but she’d listen to speeches more patiently.”
Treasure, claim her! shouted the insane voice in his head.
Gerard was quite clear thathewasn’t insane. He knew he only had to take the medallion out of his pocket to have peace and quiet again. He had a table full of artifacts to prove that. He might be stupid for listening to the voice though.
But honestly, the soldier wasn’t saying anything that Gerard wasn’t thinking. Except he couldn’tclaima lady without marriage. One did not lure virgins to bed without expectations.
“You have the determination to make a most excellent countess,” he told her, before he knew what he meant to say.
She gazed up at him in astonishment, her long lashes trapping him like a bee in a flower. If this might be his only chance to simply hold her...
Gerard circled Iona’s slender waist, bent down, and kissed her luscious lips, just to see if they tasted like honey. They did.
For moments out of time, she clung to him, allowing him to savor her sweetness, giving him access when he pressed for more. The instant his hand roamed below her waist, she shoved away, panting hard and keeping her distance, glaring warily.
Had the beekeeper not been an impoverished Malcolm, he’d be proposing marriage right now. Hewantedher, any way he could have her.
All right, that might be insane.
Without apology, Gerard dropped the medallion in the grass and ground it into the earth with his boot. “So it’s agreed—you’ll stay here while I ride out to do interviews and sell property and learn what I can of this reward being offered?”
She brushed herself off as if they hadn’t just shared the deepest, most soul-wrenching kiss he’d ever experienced. She was giving him a taste of what other people might feel when confronted with his indifference. It twisted his gut.
“I have no say in what you do, my lord, any more than you can dictate what I do. Cast me out if that bothers you. I need to write Isobel to let her know I’m safe for now. Good evening.” She bobbed a very small curtsy and strode off, revealing dainty shoes instead of boots.
He had the brains, wealth, and power of two men. She admitted she was a halfwit without her sister and lacked so much as a farthing to her name. And after she’d kissed him as if she meant it, she’d cut him off at the knees.
There was a lesson to be learned from this, but he’d be damned if he knew what it was.
Grabbing the medallion from the earth, he shoved it in his pocket. The soldier grumbled and muttered all the way back to the castle.
“I answered a few questions about bees,”Iona said, handing her missive over to Mrs. Merriweather the next morning. “Would you be so kind as to post this to Calder Castle?”
“Of course, dear.” The librarian slid the folded sheet into an envelope. “Should we have told the earl that Calder’s steward is female? Would that make him feel better?”
Knowing that the librarian had recognized her relationship to said steward, Iona fought her concern and allowed herself a small smile. “No, let the earl think he’s being persecuted. It’s good for his soul.”
She’d been a fool to let him kiss her last night, but she’d wanted it so very badly... She was still a little giddy at being held and desired, if only for just a few minutes. But now she had to adjust her thinking back to normal. “The earl has had everything his way all his life, hasn’t he?”
Mrs. Merriweather considered that for a moment. “In a way, I suppose. But Gerard has had to prove himself to much older half-brothers who didn’t inherit the title or estate. Worse yet, the marquess has lived with tragedy all his life, including the loss of his first legitimate son and heir. Gerard was a late arrival, after the family had despaired of having another son. The marquess places rather large expectations on him in consequence. He’s never really been allowed to sow wild oats.”
Iona wagered he’d sowed a few. A man didn’t kiss like that without knowing what he was doing. Then she remembered Lady Alice and grimaced. She wouldn’t be another notch on his bedpost.
“Why didn’t his half-brothers inherit?” Iona knew better than to express interest, but now that she’d quit hiding, she was trying to find herself again. Her real self was dangerously inquisitive.
“The marquess wasn’t married to their mother, dear,” Miss Merriweather said with a twinkle in her eye. “She was an actress, I believe, and her sons are twins. Twins tend to run in the Ives family.”
