Charming the Elusive Earl (Charmed By Chance #2)

Chapter 11

11

“Y ou have a visitor, my lady.” Mrs. Harwich hovered in the doorway to the library.

Jane glanced up in surprise. “A visitor?”

The woman’s tone was as even as ever, but something about the sparkle in her eyes put Jane on alert. She straightened, the book falling from her hands as her housekeeper said, “Lord Marlin is here to see you.”

Jane shot up to her feet. What?! No. Surely not.

She looked around as if escape might be found in the corners. Her mind raced. What could he be here for?

To speak to her father? He was away on business. Her aunt? She was out visiting friends.

This was both a relief and a disappointment. If he was here to concede to her wishes then he’d need to speak to her father.

“Please tell him my father is not at home,” she said.

Or at least, she thought that was what she’d said. Her heart was pounding too loudly for her to hear clearly.

But this was it. The moment she’d been hoping for.

The moment she’d been dreading.

“He’ll have to come back when Father returns and?—”

“That won’t be necessary.” His low voice made her jerk. And then he was there, just behind the startled housekeeper.

And he was…wet.

Her eyes widened in surprise, as did the housekeeper’s. They both regarded him in silence as he dripped water steadily onto the floor. His hair was tousled and hung in his eyes, and his perfectly fitted jacket clung to his muscles.

She swallowed hard. Goodness, he certainly had muscles. Her dratted mind chose that moment to replay how those muscles had felt, hot and hard beneath her hands when he’d kissed her.

Throughout her gaping, he kept his gaze fixed on her. She picked up the book and held it before her. Like a shield, she realized belatedly.

“Might I have a moment of your time, Lady Jane?”

He watched her. The housekeeper watched her as well with a question in her eyes.

Her mouth went dry as her heart leapt. But it wasn’t with fear, necessarily. At least, not entirely. More than anything she was curious to know what he was doing here—unscheduled, unannounced, and soaking wet as though he’d just rushed here in the midst of this storm.

She nodded to the housekeeper, who slipped away but left the door open, thank goodness.

Jane’s gaze swept over him again, noting the odd tension in him. Between that and his sodden state… “Is everything all right? Is someone hurt or?—”

“No,” he said quickly. “My apologies if I alarmed you with my sudden arrival.”

They regarded one another warily. Like strangers.

Because we are strangers. Which was precisely why they should not wed.

She swallowed hard and clutched the book harder. “My father is away. We don’t expect him home for another fortnight.”

He nodded slowly. “Good.”

She arched her brows.

“Give me a fortnight then.”

Her heart tripped over itself at the gruffness of his tone. “Pardon?”

“Give me a fortnight.” He moved toward her, stopping with a muffled curse when she backed up as well. “Please.”

Her eyes went wide at the please.

“Allow me until your father returns to get to know you. To…to let you get to know me.”

Her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of him. He sounded so different. Not at all the calm, unaffected man she’d come to know. “To what end?”

His lips twitched ever so slightly. “You were right, Jane. I’ve treated you horribly. I didn’t take your wishes into consideration at all, and I made no attempt to understand you.”

She blinked rapidly at that admission. Her insides seemed to swell and shrink at once.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from him the next time they met. Anger, she feared. Disgust or disdain, she’d assumed.

She’d rather hoped that his disgust would make it easy for him to wash his hands of her. But instead…

He’d listened to her.

She was genuinely flummoxed and had no idea how she was meant to respond. “Er…thank you?”

His lips twitched again, and she had the most unnerving desire to reach out and shake him until he stopped squashing his expressions and gave her something. Anything.

Anything other than his stoic, unflappable, and irritatingly unreadable stare.

“Aso, I lied.” He said it so stiffly, she found herself wondering if she’d heard him wrong.

“Pardon?”

Water dripped off his nose, but he didn’t seem to notice. “You asked me why I sought out this engagement, and I lied.” His eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “No, that’s not correct. I did not lie. But I did not tell the whole truth.”

All she could do was stare. Who was this man? Surely not the tediously proper caller whose visits she’d dreaded.

And not the angry, scowling man who’d come to her rescue in the shed, kissed her senseless, and then walked away from her, either.

This man was still rigid. Still proper.

But he looked ready to come undone.

The thought made her heart pound and her pulse skitter. “What…what did you leave out?”

The silence was stifling. Somewhere in the distance a door closed. A rare sign of life in this usually lifeless house.

“I saw you reading, and I thought you were beautiful, yes. But I’d seen you before, and after. At a dinner party once, and again at my brother’s funeral.”

Her lips parted because she knew precisely the events he spoke of. The funeral, obviously, because that was a memorable event. It wasn’t every day a young Earl died of a sudden illness, and even more rare that it happened so shortly after their father’s passing.

But the dinner party. She recalled that occasion as well. It was a year before they’d become engaged. Before her debut into society, and one of the few occasions she’d been around gentlemen of her own age.

It was after that party her aunt had declared her hopeless. They’d all assumed that her shyness would dissipate eventually. That more exposure to those her own age would undo the years of sitting alone in a library, reading about romance and adventures she never expected to experience for herself.

But that night, she’d grown more flushed and tongue-tied with every new interaction.

All she recalled of Lord Marlin that night was his blessed silence. He’d been the only gentleman present who had not attempted to speak to her. He’d merely watched her, which had been disconcerting enough. But she did recall feeling grateful that he hadn’t joined the others in trying to draw her into the center of attention.

“You remember?” he asked softly.

She nodded.

“The fact that you are beautiful was only part of it. Mostly, I thought…” His throat worked as he swallowed. “You seemed…kind.”

The air grew stiflingly thick and his voice was so low, so quiet…she would have had to strain to hear if they weren’t standing here alone, with only a crackling fire to break the silence.

He moved further into the room, closing the distance.

She couldn’t have moved if she’d tried.

“I wanted to protect that kindness,” he said, his gaze never leaving hers. “I looked at you and saw someone gentle. Someone fragile. Someone with a heart that had never learned to shield itself.”

Her heart kicked against her ribcage as if it knew it was being spoken about.

His lips twitched up slightly at the corners, and his hard gaze softened with the rueful smile. “Odd, I know. To think I believed to know so much just from watching you, from overhearing your conversations.”

She wet her lips, unable to speak.

“I thought I knew you, when I clearly do not. Not well enough, at least.”

She couldn’t argue that. He’d taken her at face value. But even so… She felt herself softening at his honesty. “Why…” She had to clear her throat and try again.

He was staring at her so intently, and she had to fight the insecurities that threatened whenever a man looked at her so.

He waited patiently. This much he’d always given her. Patience. Most men would fill the silence or prompt her to say more. But he waited. As he always did, she realized.

She took a deep breath. “Did you pity me?”

His brows came down and she had her answer before he even spoke. “Of course not.”

“But you wanted to protect me.”

“I did.” His expression turned thoughtful. “But not because I thought you were in danger. Only because…” Now he was the one who seemed to be searching for words. “It seemed to me that someone so gentle ought to be protected.” His brows furrowed. “I wanted something in my home worth protecting.”

“From…what?” she asked.

“From everything.” His gaze was fixed on hers and there was an odd edge to it.

An anger. But not aimed at her.

“Is there not…” She didn’t know how to phrase it. Worst of all, she felt it wasn’t her place to ask. She never asked difficult questions. She never asked question s, period.

But this man meant to marry her. And standing here so close, so alone…

Could it really hurt to try and get to know him?

So she swallowed hard, and asked, “Was there not kindness in your home? Nothing…nothing worth protecting?”

“No.”

Goodness. She felt as though he’d slapped her with that simple, honest admission. Her heart ached on his behalf. “That’s…I’m sorry.”

His lips twitched again. “I don’t want your sympathy. I just…” He looked away, and the way he thrust a hand through his hair was almost alarming. Not because it was violent, but for him it was akin to shouting to the rooftops. “I want you to understand, I suppose.”

She nodded, realizing belatedly that she was still clutching her book like a shield. “I appreciate that.”

“The house I grew up in was not kind,” he said. “And I cannot say I know how to be kind myself. So I understand why you would not wish to be a part of…er, this .” His exasperated sigh was perhaps the most relatable sound she’d ever heard.

A laugh threatened. Her heart still ached at his admission, but his inability to express himself? This she understood all too well.

“I was not wanted,” he said.

That urge to laugh died.

“They needed a spare, of course, but it was always understood that my mother would have been alive if not for me. And my father and my brother resented me for it.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t keep quiet. She couldn’t stand still either. Dropping her book onto her seat, she moved toward him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t like sympathy.”

“Well, you have it all the same.” She’d spoken without thinking. Again. It was a rare occurrence and it seemed to only happen around him.

His nostrils flared, and she caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Then I shall try to accept it with grace.”

She pressed her lips together, that urge to laugh back once more. What was happening here? What was this odd new understanding between them?

“What I’m trying to say…” His voice was once more brusque and certain. “I never intended to make you feel…unwanted. That was not my intent.”

“I never thought it was,” she murmured.

“If anything, I thought…” He trailed off and for one horrifying moment she feared he wouldn’t continue.

You thought what ? His silence pained her.

What had he been thinking all these months?

“You never seemed to welcome my presence, and I thought perhaps I was doing you a kindness in not forcing you to spend time with me.”

Her brows furrowed. Something akin to shame slid uncomfortably through her veins.

Not that she believed it was all her fault, this tension between them. But at this particular moment she was forced to recall how she’d behaved during those brief visits.

She’d been nothing short of terrified. And she’d never made an effort to get to know him either. All she’d cared about was getting through those interludes as quickly and painlessly as possible.

He moved toward her, so close now she could feel the warmth of his body just as surely as she’d felt the heat from the fire. “Give me a fortnight.”

She blinked in surprise at the urgency that was so at odds with his calm demeanor. It was the same thing he’d said before, but now it had new meaning.

For her, at least. And for a moment, her heart and her mind went to war. She’d made her decision to get out of this engagement at all costs. But what could it hurt to give him a chance?

Her heart did an odd little kick in her chest. Was that…hope?

She frowned. Did she want to get to know him? Want him to know her ?

Her mouth went dry and her hands shook.

Maybe. Maybe she was more than a little intrigued by the man who could make her knees weak with a kiss and then go back to being so calm and rigid.

Maybe she wanted to see more of the man behind the polite manners and the rigid rules.

He reached out for her, his fingers calloused from riding but gentle as they slid over her cheek and along her jaw. The gesture was so light, so sweet, but so intimate…she shivered under his touch.

“Give me a fortnight to win your hand,” he said.

“But you…you don’t want that.” She wasn’t even sure why she’d said it. But up until he’d arrived here tonight, she’d been so sure of it.

He didn’t want her. Not really. He’d wanted the alliance, but not her.

Right?

His eyes darkened to a smoldering hue, and there was no hint of the cold, aloof earl when he leaned down close. “I assure you, there’s nothing I want more.”

Her heart clamored and raced. But it wasn’t just pounding with hope…

There was fear there, too.

Because what if they got to know one another, and he didn’t like what he found?

The warmth in his eyes dimmed. “If, by the time your father returns, you still wish to end this engagement, then I shall insist that you be the one to do so.”

She frowned.

“Make up whatever reason you see fitting,” he continued mildly. As if he wasn’t giving her carte blanche to tarnish his reputation. “I shall support whatever you decide.”

Her chest felt like it was collapsing and swelling all at once. “You would do that? For me?”

His brows knit. “Your reputation would never recover if I were to end it.”

Her lips moved but no sound came out. What sort of man was this? She’d spent so long thinking him as unfeeling. But this man standing before her was surprising her at every turn.

“Now then.” He straightened and she thought for a moment he’d take his leave. But, to her surprise, he reached a hand out. “Shall we?”