The Earl's Passionate Plot Read online

  "How fortunate that the earl has been able to coordinate his stay here with yours," she said as brightly as possible. "I gather this is the first time you have met him."

  "It is," Mrs. Vandenhoff replied. "He and my husband became acquainted through a mutual friend in London. We are honored that he extended this invitation to us."

  "He seemed pleased that you could accept."

  "You know him quite well, I take it?" Mrs. Vandenhoff asked. "Distant relations, perhaps?"

  Drat. She'd not intended to take the conversation around to discuss the earl. She glanced up quickly at Mamma, hoping for help.

  "No, er, our connection is not very close.," Mamma replied. "The earl's father and my husband were acquainted some years past, you see. We've only come to know the current Lord Doington more recently."

  "Have you not been his tenant all this time?" Mrs. Vandenhoff asked.

  The ladies sat comfortably in the nicest drawing room and to any onlooker they would have appeared quite a contented group. However, Mariah could see Mamma's knuckles visibly whiten as she clenched her fists in her lap. The idea of being considered merely a tenant in her own home grated horribly. Of course Mamma could be trusted not to say anything regrettable at the lady's honest mistake, but Mariah glanced quickly toward Ella and made sure the younger girl recognized warning in her eyes. Ella wrinkled her nose, clearly thwarted from speaking out on the subject.

  "The earl's father left certain business matters rather disorganized," Mariah explained hastily, with a reassuring smile. "I'm afraid the new earl only recently learned of our existence here."

  Mrs. Vandenhoff nodded. "I see. So you are not acquainted well enough with the man to speak to his character."

  His character? Oh, sadly Mariah was acquainted well enough to speak quite a lot on the man's character. Unfortunately, she could think of no part of it that might be fit to mention in polite company.

  "Mariah knows him best of all of us," Ella said quickly. "She handles Papa's business since he's been gone, so she has been the one dealing with the earl."

  "I see," Mrs. Vandenhoff said with narrowed eyes as she studied Mariah. "How very... modern. I did not realize in England it was usual for unmarried ladies to employ themselves in such a manner. You and the earl are often in company, then?"

  "I would hardly say that," Mariah replied, quelling the urge to strangle her sister. "I simply assisted our solicitor in his dealings with the earl. I can't really claim to know the man well."

  "He's been a guest in your home for some days now, I understand," Miss Vandenhoff persisted. "Surely you have come to know him."

  "Er, yes, I suppose we have come to know him in some measure."

  "And no doubt you've formed a favorable opinion."

  What an odd thing for Miss Vandenhoff to assume! Mariah wasn't sure what to make of such a statement, but she hoped it hinted at something promising.

  "Have you formed a favorable opinion of him?" she asked the young lady, hoping for missish blushing and other encouragement of infatuation.

  She was sadly disappointed.

  "I hardly think I can form any sort of opinion at all after merely one dinner," Miss Vandenhoff said with a sigh as if the act of opinion-forming had completely exhausted her. "Although, if I must have one, I say my opinion is that I find the earl overly polite and far too ingratiating for my taste."

  Mariah felt her mouth drop open. Were they speaking of the same man? Overly polite and far too ingratiating? It was unbelievable. Not only did Mariah know the man to be the exact opposite of those particular things, she could scarcely comprehend that Miss Vandenhoff might find those attributes to be something to complain about.

  "I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Mariah said.

  "I'm sure Mabel simply wishes to have more time to get to know the man," Mrs. Vandenhoff explained quickly. "It was, after all, only one dinner. I hope we'll see much of him in the days to come. Then we can discover all his many finer qualities."

  They were hunting the man's finer qualities, were they? She didn't much like the sound of that. While they were hunting, there was no telling what the Americans might discover about him. The earl had been on his best behavior tonight. If even that had not been enough to win over Miss Vandenhoff, how on earth was he going to improve in her eyes under extended scrutiny? The more he was around his prospective fiancée, the more likely he was to show his true colors. Mariah was going to have to do something to help the man.

  She decided she might start by cleaning out the collection of newspapers in her step-father's office before any of the Vandenhoff 's stumbled upon them. And read them. As she herself had done over the past three days.

  Her step-father always had The Morning Post mailed to them and even after his death she'd made sure to continue the habit, despite the expense. Usually she found much of the information contained in the pages to be irrelevant to them in their life here in the country, so far from the bustle of London society, but this time it had proven quite educational. She had noticed several references to the Earl of Dovington.

  To be truthful, she had intentionally scoured the pages looking for the man's name. She'd not been disappointed. It seemed Society had become very interested in him since he'd gained title. The wags found him specifically notable for two particular reasons: that he was succeeding in restoring his family fortune despite his detractors' predictions to the contrary, and that he did indeed seem destined to succeed in their other predictions. Namely, they predicted that the man might be equally as likely to be shot by a cuckolded husband, deported for insulting the Prince, or mauled by a pack of jealous opera dancers who each one believed he favored her best.

  None of those things were likely to recommend him to Miss Vandenhoff. Despite how charming he had made himself appear at dinner—and Mariah was still reeling with surprise over that—there was no denying that he was boorish, self-centered and stubborn beyond reason. It would take every ounce of artifice she possessed to paint him with any other brush.

  "I'm sure we will all come to know Lord Dovington better over the next days," Mamma said, distracting the ladies with her sweetness and the flick of her fan. "No doubt he has many finer qualities we will all come to enjoy. He is, after all, an earl."

  Excellent point. That was the man's most notable fine quality and, no doubt, what had attracted the Vandenhoffs to him in the first place. Surely Mariah could promote the man by harping on the small matter of his title.

  "Indeed, Mamma. Dovington is a very old and admirable title. The earl honors us with his visit."

  "Perhaps titles mean something to you," Miss Vandenhoff informed, "but I care nothing for them. A man must be measured by his own merit, not through some accident of birth."

  "Now dear, you are not in America," Mrs. Vandenhoff reminded her daughter. "The earl is a highly respected man here. He travels in company with royalty."

  Miss Vandenhoff rolled her eyes at that. Mariah was tempted to join her. Perhaps in this one point she and Miss Vandenhoff agreed. The earl was a highly respected man, and surely not through any fault of his own. No one knew more about the consequences of this so-called accident of birth than Mariah. A male child born into right and privilege could retain that status no matter how he chose to live his life, while a person born—as Mariah was—under the shadow of disgrace could live as a veritable saint and never quite overcome that stain of origin. It was decidedly unfair.

  Mamma must have known how the subject matter affected her, but thankfully, she gave no indication. She continued the conversation brightly.

  "Perhaps when the men join us we can ask the earl to tell us about his visits to St. James. I've heard the rooms are exceedingly lovely, and I simply pour over the fashion plates of court gowns. Can you imagine wearing such things?"

  "How wonderful it would be!" Ella mused. "When the earl marries, his wife will be presented at court, you know."

  If that had been an attempt to further entice Miss Vandenhoff into a favorable impressio
n of the man, it did not seem to have worked. Clearly presentation before sovereigns of some foreign nation did not excite her in the least. Her lip visibly curled.

  "No wonder he has not yet found some woman willing to marry him."

  "From what the papers say, there are scores of women ready to throw themselves at his feet," Mariah informed her.

  As she should have expected, though, that did not have the desired effect, either.

  "That hardly serves to recommend the man. Honestly, you may revere his grand title, but I say it makes him puffed-up and overly stiff."

  By heavens, the girl's peevishness was beginning to really irk.

  "I thought you said he was overly-polite and far too ingratiating?" Mariah snapped.

  "Those are clearly affectations to cover his obvious character flaws."

  "He's more agreeable than you give him credit," Mariah retorted with a passion that actually sounded as if she believed it to be true.

  As all four of the other ladies now regarded her with raised eyebrows, she realized she was every bit as surprised by her outburst as they. Agreeable? Had she just declared the pompous, domineering earl to be agreeable? Ridiculous. With all eyes on her and their future at stake, though, she was duty bound to defend her position.

  "That is, by all accounts he has dealt fairly in business and is properly devoted to managing his estate and looking after his assets."

  There. That was at least truthful. The earl had shown himself to be exceedingly devoted to looking after his assets. And anyone else's assets, too, if the gossips were to be believed. Particularly assets of the feminine kind.

  "It hardly speaks well of a man that he devotes himself to his assets," Miss Vandenhoff said.

  "I believe Miss Langley's point was that he is known for dealing fairly in business," the girl's mother said with a patience that bordered on the miraculous. "Fairness is a quality to be admired. It is good to hear that of him."

  "I'm sure there are a great many admirable qualities in the earl," Mamma added. "Perhaps as Miss Vandenhoff gets to know him—and as all of us do—we will see him with convivial eyes."

  "Mariah already does," Ella piped up. "I didn't notice at first, but as she pointed out a few days ago, he is at least pleasant to look at. When he smiles, at any rate, like he did tonight at dinner."

  And again all eyes were on Mariah. Poor, dear Ella. She simply didn't know when to stay silent, did she? And Mariah's cheeks, drat them, did not know when not to flame red. She would have given anything to have a reasonable excuse to go running from the room just now.

  Fortunately, Miss Vandenhoff managed to get everyone's attention back onto herself.

  "I didn't notice anything pleasant about the man's appearance," she announced. "He's far too tall and I cannot abide such thick, unruly hair. Not that I wasted time looking at him, of course."

  Miss Vandenhoff 's words made no sense. She thought the man was too tall and his waves of dark hair too thick? There could only be one explanation. No wonder Miss Vandenhoff was so difficult and rude: she was obviously a lunatic.

  It would have to be a very addled female, indeed, who could possibly not notice the chiseled line of his lordship's classical jaw, the knowing turn of his sculpted lips, the breadth of his shoulders under the elegant cut of his coat. And his eyes! Heavens, one would very nearly have to be dead—or at least have no sight of their own—to overlook the tantalizing fire that burned steadily behind his midnight dark eyes. Poor Miss Vandenhoff must have left her faculties behind in America if she were truly oblivious to all that.

  Lord Dovington might have any number of things wrong with him, but none of them had anything whatsoever to do with his appearance.

  "Please, Mabel," her mother scolded. "Have a care what you say."

  "If you'd prefer I keep my opinions to myself, Mother, I will quite gladly do so."

  The girl's impudence was insufferable. Mariah was quite shocked at it, actually. Poor Mrs. Vandenhoff seemed dreadfully uncomfortable as she could do little more here in this public setting than to beg her daughter to behave.

  "Of course I value your opinion, my dear. But we are guests here. Isn't there anything that could make you feel more charitable toward his lordship?"

  "Perhaps she would like me to ask him to arrive for dinner tomorrow night six inches shorter and balding," Mariah grumbled. "Though I've no idea what we can do about the fact that he's puffed-up and overly stiff."

  Mamma's face went ashen and Ellen gasped in horror as the words left Mariah's lips. Neither of them, however, were looking at her. No, their gaze went beyond her, toward the doorway of their comfortable drawing room.

  Mariah knew—of course—that his lordship was standing there.

  Chapter 7

  Dovington hesitated in the doorway. My, but Miss Langley could turn a phrase. He supposed it was unfortunate that most of her best phrases seemed to be aimed at belittling him, but truly he didn't entirely mind. The look of astonishment and horror he'd read on her expression when she realized he'd overheard—twice now—had proven to be quite priceless.

  Once again, she did not let him down. Slowly, she turned to face him and the pink flush of her rosy cheeks first drained away, then flared to a raging blush that made her appear more the impulsive schoolgirl than the laced-up spinster he knew her to be. At least, that seemed to be what she wished for him to believe about her.

  These periodic outbursts indicated her lacing might not be quite as tight as she might give impression. She had chinks in her armor of self-control that he found amply entertaining, and enticing. Her reckless insults gave him a glimpse of a woman of strong will, but of strong passions, as well. The best thing about Miss Langley's unbridled tongue, however, was the fact that her careless words continued to place her at his mercy.

  "I'm sorry, were you not expecting us to join you?" he asked.

  "Er, but of course," she stammered, taking on the role of hostess as clearly her stunned mother was suddenly speechless. "Come in, gentlemen."

  Mr. Vandenhoff had come up behind Dovington, his waddling gait keeping him several steps behind so that he had not been privy to Miss Langley's tirade. He appeared not to notice the obvious agitation of the women just now, either. It seemed they were upset by more than just Miss Langley's sharp words regarding her guest. What other interesting discussion had he missed here?

  "Your cook is to be commended for that excellent meal," the earl said, finding a place where he could prop an elbow against the mantle and preside over the others in the room.

  "Yes, it was most excellent, indeed," Mr. Vandenhoff said. "My family and I have been enjoying trying the new dishes we are discovering on our stay in your country."

  Mrs. Vandenhoff agreed with her husband whole heartedly, but Miss Vandenhoff made a noise something akin to a snort. It was not what anyone would call attractive. In fact, very little about Miss Vandenhoff was what anyone would call attractive.

  Not that the girl had unpleasant features, exactly, but she simply failed to use them to any advantage. She seemed surly and ready to fight at the least opportunity. Her version of willful defiance was not nearly so engaging as Miss Langley's. No, while the earl found himself eager to step into the fray offered by Miss Langley's sharp words and flashing glances, he wanted to do nothing more with Miss Vandenhoff than hand her over to her father and suggest a good spanking might be in order.

  That did not bode well for his plans. Not well indeed. He needed to get his mind off the challenged posed by Miss Langley and get it back on a more productive task. He needed to find some way to make Miss Vandenhoff suddenly blossom into a charming, desirable creature.

  That seeming impossibility made his head spin. Surely it would be a much more productive task to amuse himself with Miss Langley. She could do nothing to bring him closer to his goal, but she certainly could make his efforts in the meanwhile less dismal.

  Then again, perhaps she could play a more useful role, after all. Dovington would keep his eyes open for
just the right opportunity. Any opportunity.

  The air of tension in the room lessened some as the conversation flitted from polite discussion about the English diet to trends in American dining and somehow from there onto a little dog Mrs. Vandenhoff once had and was now contemplating getting another. For some reason she wanted Dovington's opinion on the matter and he replied simply that if she wanted a dog, she ought to get herself a dog.

  "So you are a dog lover, are you?" the woman asked.

  "I suppose that is the term for it," he replied. "My father was very much against keeping pets when I was a child but after we... that is, my mother and I lived for a time at my grandfather's home and I was allowed several dogs there."

  "So you must keep hounds at your estate," Mr. Vandenhoff said. "I've heard that is very much the thing with your set."

  Yes, Dovington had heard that, too. "No, I'm afraid I have no dogs at Dovington Downs. I've been too caught up with business of late and feel it would be irresponsible to keep dogs that I have no time to exercise or entertain."

  Or funds to put the kennels in proper order or supply food of the quality needed to sustain healthy hounds. Someday he would, though. Someday he'd make that damned estate into a home. The way Renford Hall had been before... well, the way he liked to imagine it had once been.

  "I don't know that I would like keeping hounds," Mrs. Vandenhoff said. "It would be most inconvenient for living in Town. I should like another pug, I believe."

  And so the conversation went back onto that. Should she get herself a pug or should she not? Mr. Vandenhoff complained that the last thing their household needed was another body snoring through the night, as pugs were apparently wont to do, and he seemed to think what his wife needed was a loyal, regal spaniel. The other ladies were drawn into the conversation to give their opinions on the matter and this subject occupied them all for a surprisingly long time.