Chapter Three
‘I will not do it. No one can make me marry the Earl.’ Nora collapsed on the edge of her bed the following morning.
Thankfully, both of her sisters were present.
‘It wasn’t supposed to be the Earl of Ralston’s room.
That oaf Simon told me the wrong room. He said the third room on the left but he was counting from when he departed his room, not from mine! ’
Candace rubbed Nora’s back in an attempt to soothe her.
‘It doesn’t matter now, Nora. You must deal with Mother.
Not to mention the rest of the house party.
News, let alone scandal, travels like wildfire and if you don’t accept the Earl’s proposal, the scandal sheets will be ablaze before you return to London. ’
‘Candace is right,’ Sara said from where she sat on the window seat across the room. ‘And Mother will be intolerable if you refuse to cooperate and marry the Earl.’
Nora rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Both her sisters had good points.
Candace was a year younger than Nora and the two were close.
The combination of Candace’s mahogany hair and dusty complexion from her father’s Middle Eastern side with her blue eyes from her mother’s English side was striking.
Sara, who was also lovely, was three years younger and had dark, curly tresses, but her eyes were chocolate brown.
She loved fashion and often sketched dresses on a notebook she carried.
As the youngest sister, Nora typically did not confide as much to Sara.
But Nora had confessed her plans to seduce Sir Simon to Candace, who’d promptly tried to talk her out of it, even knowing that when Nora made a decision, it was hard to dissuade her.
Nora flinched. Her plot to get out of her mother’s plans to bind her to Lord Umbridge had backfired. Instead of a baron she’d snagged an earl. Her mother must be over the moon.
‘I know Mother is secretly thrilled, but it’s not what I wanted for myself,’ Nora said. ‘The London Scientific Society meets in less than six months, and I want to present my findings of the Cornwall shells.’
‘It wasn’t what the Earl of Ralston had in mind either. Regardless, you will be a countess,’ Candace said.
‘A countess!’ Sara perked up. ‘Can you imagine, Nora?’
Nora let out a puff of air. She never wanted to marry. Especially not him. ‘The Earl of Ralston strikes me as a man who always gets what he wants and is set in his ways.’
‘In my opinion, you just described most men.’ A note of bitterness tinged Candace’s voice.
Candace had been heartbroken a year prior.
Lord Neal had courted Candace and she’d been thrilled when he’d knelt on a knee and proposed.
She’d been giddy planning their wedding when, one afternoon, he’d confessed he was in love with his mistress, a Drury Lane actress.
He’d proposed to Candace only to please his family, but he couldn’t go through with the marriage and must please himself.
He’d then fled to Gretna Green to marry his mistress.
Candace, who’d been in love, had been devastated.
Their mother had been more agitated and upset at the scandal than the heartbreak of her middle daughter.
Candace grasped Nora’s hand. ‘I’ve come to realize there is no such thing as true, selfless love, but there are cruel gossipmongers who thrill at another’s misery.
No one knows this better than me.’ She shook her head.
‘It’s my fault. I should have somehow dissuaded you from going through with your idea to seduce Sir Simon. ’
A knot twisted in Nora’s stomach. ‘Oh, Candace. You had nothing to do with my plans. Please do not blame yourself.’
Candace pressed her hands to her cheeks and shook her head ‘How can I not? Just the thought of the scandal and the vicious barbs from wagging tongues! Now you have no choice but to marry the Earl of Ralston.’
Nora stood and began pacing the carpet as an idea formed in her mind. Scandal had never frightened her as much as it did Candance. ‘Not necessarily.’
‘What do you mean?’ Candace asked.
‘What are you going to do, Nora?’ Sara asked.
Nora halted. ‘What if I convince the Earl it’s best if we part ways.’
‘How?’ both Candace and Sara asked in unison.
‘He dislikes women who speak their minds,’ Nora said. ‘Who is more outspoken than a female scientist?’
The quill was poised over the foolscap for a solid minute.
Ralston, who’d remained in his bedchamber all morning and now sat at the writing desk in the corner of his room, needed to advise his head housekeeper and butler at his London mansion of an upcoming wedding.
The earldom had a country estate and a large London home when in Town.
His staff disliked surprises and it was best to notify them.
Although an engagement with Miss Magarian had yet to be formalized, he must be prepared for the inevitable. How should he start?
Mrs Hanning,
I’m betrothed. A wedding breakfast will take place at Ralston House before the end of summer.
He could just imagine his orderly housekeeper’s reaction.
She’d be in a frenzy to prepare the mansion and the staff for a new mistress.
She’d also most likely be overjoyed. Both his housekeeper and butler had been employed since Ralston was a baby and were like family.
On more than one occasion, Mrs Hanning had made passing comments that the nursery had been empty for too long.
If his parents were alive, what would they think?
He’d been raised as a typical son and heir of an aristocratic household.
All his needs had been met, and his father had been satisfied that he’d had an heir.
His mother had been affectionate when he’d been a young boy, then more distant for his later years.
His parents had approved of his engagement to Margaret since their families had been friends and were upset for him when she’d cried off.
By the grace of God, he’d never told them about the baby.
His mother would have been happy to have a grandchild, then furious that Margaret had betrayed him that way.
As for Nora Margarian, would his parents have approved of his hasty betrothal to her? They would not have approved of the way it came about. They’d demand an explanation. Perhaps it was best if they were not around for him to explain.
As for himself, his plans to marry for convenience and connections were no longer in the cards.
Love wasn’t necessary, nor was it desired.
He’d even preferred a lady who didn’t stir his emotions or his lust. An image of the auburn-haired virago, Miss Magarian, sprang to mind—a woman bold enough to slip into a man’s bed.
She was the opposite of what he’d sought.
Nora did not have a fat dowry or the lineage of a queen.
Although her family had been invited to the house party, certain members of the beau monde looked down upon them, both because of their father’s Middle Eastern roots and the fact that he’d been in trade.
Her background did not concern him; her behavior, however, was a different matter. She was impetuous and scandalous.
A knock on the door sounded. He set the quill aside. His valet was expected to shave him. ‘Enter.’
The door opened and Nora entered.
She was alone, with neither her mother nor maid as chaperone, and her brazenness again took him off guard.
His body instantly grew alert. Unlike the prior evening, her auburn hair was pinned in a neat bun at her nape, and she was properly dressed in a blue morning gown with embroidered rosebuds at the bodice.
Not an inch of skin showed. Skin, he knew firsthand, which was soft and smooth.
Awareness thundered in his veins, along with a sizzling attraction.
She must have felt it, too. Her eyes—her green eyes—were large in her oval face.
What was it about her?
‘Miss Magarian, you should not be in my chambers unchaperoned.’ His voice sounded harsh to his ears.
‘I’m aware, my lord. However, I need to speak with you.’
‘Don’t you think it is a bit late for conversation?’ In his opinion, the time for that had long passed for both of them.
She shook her head. ‘No, I don’t believe so. Last night, was…was unexpected.’
He released a gruff laugh. ‘Unexpected? You mean for me? You, on the other hand, planned it perfectly, didn’t you?’
She wrinkled her brow. ‘No, my lord. I only sought to gain my freedom.’
‘Your freedom? What did you think would happen?’
She swallowed and his gaze was drawn to the smooth column of her throat.
He recalled her soft mewling moans as he trailed his lips from her mouth to the shell of her ear.
With only her thin cotton nightgown between them, he’d been as aroused as if she’d been naked.
And when his palm had slipped beneath the hem to caress her shapely leg, he’d been lost. What would have happened if her maid hadn’t opened his bedchamber door with her mother in tow?
His heartbeat pounded like a drum in his chest. The attraction was perilous.
He prized himself on his self-control. He took his responsibilities seriously and rarely showed or displayed emotion.
Base lust had never controlled him. Yet, a few shivery kisses with the brazen Nora had made him as hard and volatile as a youth with his first lover.
She could never know how strongly she affected him. She was dangerous.
She shook her head. ‘I wanted to ruin my reputation to get out of an unwanted match. I accidentally slipped into the wrong bedchamber. It wasn’t supposed to be you.’
His gaze snapped back to her face. Her complexion had paled a shade. She’d called him another man’s name and it had disturbed him more than he would let on. He’d been completely engrossed in the moment with her and couldn’t recall whose name she’d uttered. ‘I see. Whose bed was it supposed to be?’
‘Sir Simon’s.’
A second paused and he tossed back his head and laughed. But now he understood. Finally understood. ‘That dandy.’