My Brown-Eyed Earl Read online

  Meg clambered off the earl, perhaps not as elegantly as she might have, because he swallowed an oath when her knee came in contact with a certain—male—part of his anatomy.

  Blast it all. Cringing, she scrambled to her feet and knelt beside Diana. “Let me see you.” Meg placed her palms on the girl’s cheeks, studied every inch of her face, and found nary a scratch. “Does anything hurt? Can you move your arms and legs?”

  “Of course,” Diana said, out of breath but smiling. “Did you see how fast I ran in my new boots?”

  Relief coursed through Meg, but she had to make Diana understand that she couldn’t dash off, unchaperoned. And she certainly couldn’t run in the vicinity of Rotten Row. “You were very fast, indeed. But I don’t think you realize the danger you were in or what could have happened.” Diana’s little face crumpled, but Meg pressed on. “Those horses were huge, and you almost—”

  “Beat me in a footrace,” Lord Castleton interrupted smoothly.

  Meg glanced over her shoulder at the earl, who approached with a slight limp, as though he hadn’t quite recovered from the injury her wayward knee had inflicted. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Diana almost outran me.”

  The girl grinned. “Actually, I did outrun you.”

  The earl chuckled. “So you did. At least I managed to best Miss Lacey.”

  Meg frowned. “This isn’t a laughing matter, my lord.” It was bad enough that she’d let it happen. Diana had been in peril—and it was all her fault. “I don’t think you should make light of it.”

  Lord Castleton gave Diana a conspiratorial wink and jabbed a thumb at Meg. “Sore loser.”

  Meg blinked and opened her mouth to scold the earl or Diana or … someone. But Diana giggled.

  And even if discipline was called for, well, the timing seemed all wrong. Something a proper governess surely would have known.

  “Meg! Are you all right?” Charlotte hurried across the lawn, Abigail and Valerie in tow. “You took such a tumble!”

  “I fear I tackled her,” the earl said without a hint of remorse.

  Meg ignored him. “I’m fine. Diana is too.”

  “Thank goodness.” Valerie released Charlotte’s hand and threw her arms around her sister.

  “You’re squeezing too hard,” Diana complained to her twin. Looking up at Meg, she asked, “May we go to Gunter’s now?”

  Meg stood, surprised to find that her knees wobbled a bit. The earl grabbed her elbow, steadying her, while Charlotte fussed over her wrinkled gown and the leaf stuck in her hair.

  “Gunter’s?” Meg repeated. The girls had been looking forward to it, but she was still worried about Diana. Perhaps they should return to the house and summon a doctor.

  She looked to Lord Castleton, but neither his heavy-lidded gaze nor his uncurving mouth gave any indication of his preference. “I don’t know.” She turned to Charlotte, hoping that her friend would provide some guidance. What was a governess to do after one of her charges was nearly trampled?

  Charlotte gave her an encouraging nod. “It might be just the thing to cheer everyone … if you’re sure you’re feeling well enough.”

  “I am.” The twins began to bounce happily. “It appears the girls are as well. Will you and Abigail join us?”

  “I’m afraid we can’t. We came to the park for a brief outing but must return home and resume our penmanship lesson.”

  The earl nodded approvingly. “It is encouraging to hear that not all impressionable girls while away the entire day shopping for gowns, playing ball in the park, and eating ice cream. Your commitment to educating your young charge is to be commended, Miss Winters.”

  Charlotte cast Lord Castleton a wary glance. “I know that Miss Lacey is equally committed. It’s all a matter of balance, my lord.”

  “If you say so.” Inclining his head in her direction, he said, “Good day, Miss Winters. I’m going to bid farewell to a friend, then I’ll meet the rest of you at the coach.”

  He walked away, his strides a bit shorter and slower than usual. Good Lord, perhaps Meg had injured him worse than she thought.

  She held the twins’ hands and began walking back across the park. “Please, no more running for today, girls.”

  Charlotte shot her a sympathetic smile. “You know, it’s not your fault, Meg.”

  Well, of course it was. If she couldn’t keep them safe, she wasn’t fit to be a governess. “To quote the earl, ‘If you say so.’”

  “Honestly. It could have happened to me or anyone. I’m the one who told you to let them have some freedom, remember?”

  “I knew that Diana had new boots and that she wanted to test them out. But I only worried about the Serpentine … it never occurred to me that she’d run—”

  “Children are unpredictable. These things happen.”

  Meg stopped and faced her friend. “Today’s outing could have ended in tragedy, Charlotte. And it happened in my first week as a governess. In front of my employer.”

  Charlotte winced. “That part was unfortunate. But you mustn’t lose confidence.”

  “No danger of that,” Meg replied. “To lose something, you must first possess it.”

  Her friend laughed. “Everything’s going to work out. You’ll see.”

  Near a bench beside the water, the earl spoke to the lovely young lady he’d abandoned—temporarily, at least—in order to rescue Diana. And Meg. The blond woman didn’t seem to mind his disheveled cravat, grass-stained trousers, or dusty jacket. In fact, she gazed at him with adoration. As though he were some sort of hero.

  And he was. Even Meg couldn’t deny it. He’d literally swept her off her feet and protected her with his body. His very large, hard, strong body.

  “Meg?” Charlotte waved a hand in front of Meg’s face.

  “Hmm?”

  “I was asking if you still wanted to meet on Sunday.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course.”

  Charlotte’s brow knit. “You seem a little dazed from that fall. After Gunter’s, you should take to your bed and rest until dinner.”

  Meg rolled her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Here comes the earl now. I’ll see you soon.”

  Charlotte and Abigail waved good-bye to the girls, and Lord Castleton helped the twins into the coach. When he offered his hand to Meg, she pretended not to see it and deposited herself on the seat between the girls. She’d had quite enough physical contact with the earl for one day. Nay, for an entire fortnight.

  The twins squirmed on either side of Meg as they debated the merits of potential ice cream flavors. “Someone should invent suet pudding ice cream,” Valerie announced. “I would eat that.”

  “As would I,” Diana said with a shrug. “But it’s rather boring. I should like to taste something more exciting, like cricket leg ice cream.”

  “You would not,” Valerie retorted.

  “How do you know?”

  Their friendly bickering reminded Meg of her own sisters, and she smiled; but a glance across the coach revealed the earl was not similarly amused. With his crossed arms, clenched jaw, and brooding stare, he was the picture of intimidation. A chill raced down her spine.

  Meg couldn’t fault him for being angry with her. She was angry with herself. And she owed the earl an apology.

  As the coach started rolling down the street, Meg cleared her throat. “My lord,” she began.

  He blinked and dragged his gaze away from the storefronts that glided past his window. “What is it, Miss Lacey?” He spoke with the exasperation of someone interrupted in the middle of a particularly vexing math problem.

  Undaunted, she lifted her chin. “Regarding the incident in the park earlier. I feel that I must apo—”

  “No,” he snapped.

  “But I—”

  “We will not have this conversation now.” He let the final word hang in the air for a moment, and his implication was clear: whatever he intended to say could not be said in front of the girls. “See me in my study bef
ore dinner this evening. Seven o’clock, sharp.”

  Meg’s throat constricted, so she simply nodded.

  He must mean to sack her.

  One grave mistake had effectively dashed her plans to save Uncle Alistair from debtor’s prison, see her sisters marry well, and gain a modicum of independence. How could she have been so careless? Her heart sank, and not just because of the money. Even now, Valerie’s small hand was nestled in her own, and Diana’s head leaned against her shoulder. Meg had disappointed them, too.

  She sighed. She had lasted barely two days in her governess position. Approximately one day longer than she’d expected.

  Chapter SIX

  Will poured himself a generous drink and sank into one of the pair of armchairs that flanked the fireplace in his study. As the first swallow of brandy blazed a path down his throat, he started to cross his legs—and immediately thought better of it.

  Jesus. His stones still hadn’t recovered entirely. It felt like they’d been hit by a battering ram rather than his governess’s knee.

  Maybe it served him right, because before Miss Lacey had nearly unmanned him, he had been undeniably aroused. Hard as a pine tree.

  Even now, his cock swelled at the memory of her soft breasts pressed against his chest. Her lithe legs had straddled him, her thighs squeezing his hips with just the right amount of pressure. And when she’d lifted her head to look at him, a silky chestnut curl had fallen across his cheek, tempting him to spear his fingers through her hair and obliterate what was left of the tidy knot at her nape.

  If there was one thing he could absolutely not resist, it was balancing a beautiful woman on top of him—even one as contrary as Miss Lacey. The combination of her full breasts bouncing above, her bottom pressing deliciously against his cock, and the unexpected interest in her sparkling eyes had instantly triggered his desire.

  Cursing, he adjusted himself, threw back the rest of his brandy, and glanced at the clock on the mantle.

  Two minutes to seven. Miss Lacey would not be late. She was rigid—a slave to rules—which was probably a useful and admirable trait in a governess. Unfortunately, it was a terrible trait in a lover. Not that he had any intention of bedding her. It was just a damned shame that someone as beautiful and passionate as she should be so … regimented.

  But Will had realized a couple of other things in the park, as well. First, he was responsible for the twins. He’d known it before, on an intellectual level. But today, as the phaeton had careened down Rotten Row and Diana stood there defenseless, he’d felt it. In his gut. And it was terrifying. When he’d promised his cousin that he’d take care of the girls, he’d had no idea what he was signing up for, but he couldn’t go back on his word. He wouldn’t.

  The second thing Will had learned was that Miss Lacey was all too willing to sacrifice her own well-being for the sake of her charges. She’d put herself in the path of charging horses in order to rescue Diana, and if Will hadn’t swept her out of the way …

  Christ. Heart pounding in his chest, he stood and refilled his glass.

  Which led to his third and final revelation of the day. He had to protect Miss Lacey, too. For the sake of his own sanity. He couldn’t worry about her and the girls every time they wanted to go for a walk in the park, for God’s sake.

  At the sound of footsteps, he checked the clock again. Predictably punctual, to the second.

  “Good evening, my lord.” Miss Lacey stood at the threshold of his study, wringing her hands. The drab, navy gown she wore lent her face a pale, almost ghostly pallor. She had removed the bits of grass from her hair and the smudges of dirt from her cheeks, effectively erasing all traces of their intimate, if accidental, encounter. Pity, that.

  Will waved a hand at the chair beside him. “Come in, please. Sit.”

  She perched on the edge of the seat, folded her hands in her lap, and pursed her lips, adopting a pose that could have been called either Demure Governess or Determined Spinster. “Earlier in the coach,” she began, “you did not allow me to speak.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re about to rectify that now?”

  “I would be remiss if I did not thank you for coming to my aid in the park.”

  Will nodded. Perhaps it wasn’t the most graceful thank-you, but she was a proud creature, and, if he were honest, he respected that about her. In an effort to meet her halfway, he said, “I regret that I had to tackle you. I would have avoided doing so if it were possible.”

  “I understand. It was the lesser of two evils. I am in your debt.”

  Will started to disagree and say she owed him nothing, but checked himself and mentally tucked her admission in his pocket. It might prove useful in future dealings with his governess. “The important thing is that no one was hurt.”

  “Yes, about that.” She wrung her hands some more. “I feel that I must apologize for”—her cheeks instantly flushed bright pink—“the extremely unfortunate and entirely accidental contact that my knee happened to make with your…”

  Will raised both brows and feigned ignorance. “With my what, Miss Lacey?”

  The flush on her cheeks deepened and spread like a strawberry-colored ink stain, crawling down her pretty neck and disappearing behind the ridiculously high collar of her gown. “You know very well what I’m referring to.”

  “You give me far too much credit. I’m not a reader of minds.” It was not well done of him, but damned if he could resist the chance to tease her.

  She blew out a long breath and shot him a wary look. “Very well. I shall attempt to clarify as best I can. You were on the ground, and I was on—” She shook her head and started over. “We were both on the ground—”

  Will frowned for effect. “That’s not precisely the way I remember it, but do go on.”

  “I was attempting to stand,” she continued through gritted teeth, “when my knee made incidental and regrettably injurious contact with…”

  He leaned forward. “Yes?”

  She crossed her arms, frustration rolling off of her in waves. “You know.” For the briefest of moments her gaze darted to the front of his trousers before returning to his face. Good God. It was incredibly improper and arousing as hell.

  He leaned an elbow on the mantle behind him and crossed his legs at the ankles, hoping to create room in his trousers for his growing erection. “I confess that I do know, Miss Lacey. The question is, do you?”

  “I know enough, my lord,” she tossed back at him. “And frankly, I’m not impressed.”

  If he’d been sipping brandy, he would have choked on it. “You’re not?”

  “No,” she sniffed. “It seems exceedingly … fragile.”

  “Fragile?”

  She shrugged. “Consider the damage I inflicted with my knee. I wasn’t even trying.”

  “Truly? Because I’m beginning to have my doubts about that.”

  She gasped. “You are thwarting my attempts to apologize for hurting you. Why do you enjoy humiliating me so?”

  He opened his mouth to reply, then sank into the chair opposite her. Jesus, he was an ass. “It was poorly done of me. If it’s any consolation, it wasn’t my intention to embarrass you, so much as … to challenge you.”

  She pressed her fingertips to her temple and squinted as though she felt a headache coming on. “To challenge me? I don’t understand.”

  “I enjoy sparring with you.” After he’d goaded her so mercilessly, she deserved to know the truth of it. “You’re a worthy opponent, Miss Lacey.”

  Her spine stiffened. “If you want a sparring partner, Lord Castleton, I suggest you find one at Jackson’s Saloon. I am only a governess—and not a very good one at that,” she added, more to herself than to him. “Which brings me to the real reason I wished to speak to you and what I wanted to say earlier, in the coach.”

  Ah, yes. If Will wasn’t mistaken, she’d been on the verge of tendering her resignation. But if he let her leave, then he’d have to hire someone else, and where the devil was
he going to find another governess willing to throw herself in front of charging thoroughbreds for the sake of a pair of little hellions? He’d be damned if he’d waste countless hours interviewing scores of bookish spinsters.

  Time to nip her thoughts of resigning in the bud.

  He crossed his arms and said, “If you’ll recall, Miss Lacey, I am the one who summoned you here.”

  “Yes, but I—”

  “Can speak your mind after I’ve spoken mine,” he finished for her. “Fair enough?”

  * * *

  Meg bit her tongue and nodded. The earl paced thoughtfully in front of the fireplace, rubbing the light stubble on his chin as he no doubt debated the best way to inform her that he was sacking her. It didn’t really matter whether he fired her or she quit, but she did wonder if there was a limit to how much humiliation a person could endure in one day. Surely, she was nearing the threshold by now.

  “There will be no more incidents like the one that occurred today,” he said smoothly, as if it were just that easy to command it so.

  “It was inexcusable,” Meg agreed. “I should never have let the girls wander off. My carelessness could have resulted in—”

  “Miss Lacey,” the earl drawled, “a brief pause is not an invitation to speak.”

  Meg bristled. “No? I rather thought that was how conversations worked, my lord.”

  A smug smile spread across his face, and she realized she had fallen into the trap of sparring with him once more.

  “Please, continue,” she said.

  Lord Castleton inclined his dark head. “In order to avoid a repeat performance, you and the twins shall not depart the house unless accompanied by a footman. Harry will keep a close eye on you during each and every outing. You will not leave this house without him.”

  After a period of silence, during which Meg’s blood heated to a rolling boil, the earl waved his palm magnanimously. “Your turn. I’m sure you have plenty to say.”

  Oh, she did, and most of it wasn’t fit for polite conversation. She took another moment, exhaled, and said, “Allow me to make sure I understand. You want a footman to follow the twins and me every time we go for a stroll in the garden? We are essentially prisoners, allowed to leave the premises only when closely guarded?”