Ethan: Lord of Scandals

Twelve

“Whatever went on in Alice’s room,” Nick rumbled ominously, “it had better have been with the lady’s consent.”

“And a pleasant good evening to you too. Are you spying on me, Nicholas?”

“Maybe.” Nick pushed away from the wall with his back. “I came up to say good night to the boys, as their papa was supposedly doing.”

“I said good night to them and to their governess.”

Nick looked disgruntled, like a man who was spoiling for a fight, only to realize there was nothing to fight over. “She deserves more than a quick tumble, and you’d best not be trifling with her.”

“I agree.” Ethan took Nick by the arm and turned him down the hallway. “This is not the place to air your concerns. Did you leave me any of Heathgate’s whiskey?”

“We did. George is a lightweight, for all he’s newly down from school.”

“A mere child. So explain to me, worldly earl that you are, how it is Alice deserves more than a quick tumble and not trifling with.”

“The rules are simple, and because I played by them, and played hard for years, I will recite them for you: You may dally wherever an experienced woman consents, provided her husband has his heir and spare. If you get a single woman pregnant, you must insist on marriage. Never bother virgins, for they require inordinate care and get romantic notions. Widows are a law unto themselves.”

Nick could have stitched his blighted rules into samplers, so sanctimonious was his tone.

“Alice wouldn’t marry me if I were given a damned title by the Regent,” Ethan said. “And for the record, Nicholas, I merely kissed her.” And brushed her hair, and cuddled in her lap like a lonely cat, and kissed her some more, and held her, and could not wait to do more of the same.

“So you’re taking your time. That’s good. It gives Alice time to come to her senses.”

“And send me packing?” Ethan asked as they reached the library.

“No.” Nick smiled a little. “She’ll have you proposing and be accepting your suit.”

“I can’t expect that. There are certain things that can befall a man in this life which permanently reduce his expectations, particularly with respect to matrimony. Alice seems to have a similarly jaundiced view of marriage,” Ethan replied, crossing to the decanter. “More for you?”

“Yes. I abused that whiskey earlier today. This evening, I offer it only my most sincere respect.”

Ethan poured two drinks, handed one to Nick, then eyed the French doors.

“It’s lovely out,” Nick said. “You can see the stars, unlike in Town, and the crickets are singing. Why don’t you think Alice would marry you?”

“She’s been badly spooked,” Ethan replied as they found some chairs on the terrace. “Very badly spooked, though I don’t know the details. Something to do with her sister and the scandal and so on. She has her own money and works only because it affords her a badly needed excuse to remain away from the family seat.”

“She told you all this? I’ve met some self-contained women in my time, Ethan. Alice takes first honors in that category. Reese Belmont lived with her for years and never knew she had siblings.”

“I am not Reese Belmont. In any case, I think Alice is a governess because she adores children but believes she won’t have any of her own.” And why it had become necessary to share that insight was a mystery as imponderable as the stars.

“Sad. The people who have children are not necessarily the people who deserve them.”

“So I’ve thought.” Ethan sipped his drink, trying to ignore the way Nick peered at him in the dim lighting.

“You’re thinking of your late wife and possibly your dear self.”

“Oh, possibly.” Ethan took another sip. “This really is a fine whiskey.”

“I’m not letting you change the subject this time, Ethan. If Alice were willing, would you marry her?”

“She isn’t willing,” Ethan reminded Nick, and himself. “But if she were—the boys love her already, I can barely keep my hands to myself… I wouldn’t deserve a lady like her.” And there was the irrefutable, bedrock truth. He would never deserve a woman like her.

“She’s a governess,” Nick scoffed. “Maybe by choice, but she’s a governess, Ethan. What’s not to deserve?”

“She’s a lady, Nicholas. In every sense of the word, she’s a lady, and in every sense of the word, I am a bastard. Is there any more of that whiskey?”

He handed Ethan the rest of his drink. “I miss my Leah.”

“A good woman is always worth missing.” Ethan took a sip and passed the drink back to Nick. “A good woman misses you too.”

“I miss her more,” Nick grumbled, taking his sip and returning the drink.

“Of course you do.” Ethan accepted the glass. “But if you take your lonely little self up to bed, you might see her in your dreams, and when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll be that much closer to holding her in your loving arms.”

“You are sending me to bed before I embarrass myself with maudlin behavior.” Nick rose, accepting the last swallow of the whiskey.

“Or I do.” Ethan remained seated. “Sweet dreams, your lordship, you’ve had a trying day. But, Nick?”

“Lordship me again, and I will have to thrash you, and then Alice will thrash me, aided by your offspring.”

“You’re doing well,” Ethan said, staring off across the dark gardens. “With our siblings, with me, ditching Papa’s weaselly jackals—with the earldom—you’re off to a fine start.”

“Blather.” Nick bent to kiss his brother’s cheek. “Utter, senile, meaningless blather.”

Ethan waited until Nick’s footsteps had retreated into the house before murmuring to the night air, “Love you too. Always have.”

Alice arrived to Lord Greymoor’s property as part of a veritable entourage. Ethan, Nick, and the boys were mounted, as was she, followed by Davey and a groom on horseback as well. The coach had been sent ahead, with changes of clothing for Alice and both boys, several baskets of ripe peaches, a hamper of the requisite enormous muffins, a wheel of Danish cheese, a pall-mall set, and a bottle of peach cordial for the lady of the house.

“It’s a good thing you’re riding,” Ethan said as they emerged from the bridle path. “There’s hardly room in the coach for a grown person.”

“I didn’t know you imported cheese,” Nicholas said from Alice’s other side.

“Import and export. English cheddar is among the best cheese there is,” Ethan said. “You are not to gallop up the drive, Joshua Nicholas Grey. Nor you either, Jeremiah.”

Nick looked pleased. “You gave him my name?”

“I gave them both your name. Alice, we’re off Tydings property. Is Waltzer behaving?”

“He’s a perfect gentleman. Just like my smallest escorts.”

Nick frowned at his mare’s mane. “I’m behaving. She must be unhappy with you, Ethan.”

“Hush, Brother. We’re about to make our grand entrance. Will I do?”

“Will you do?” Nick snorted. “I have a bet with Miller that Lady Greymoor has invited at least a half-dozen eligible young ladies to inspect the widowed and wealthy Mr. Grey. You could have eight little boys, a hunchback, and a squint, and they’d be delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“You’re jaded, Nicholas.” Alice offered this reproof because Ethan was sitting noticeably straighter on his horse. “You narrowly escaped a Society marriage, so you can’t see simple neighborliness for what it is, and any young lady would be delighted to make Ethan’s acquaintance.” Every young lady with any sense, in fact, a thought which dimmed an otherwise beautiful summer day.

“Hah.” Ethan smirked at Nick, but Nick got even by assisting Alice from her horse and leaving his hands just an instant too long on her waist.

“Behave, Nicholas,” Alice said, “or I will tell the boys you want to spend the entire afternoon with them.” Nick’s hands dropped as if burned, but he was saved from a reply by the arrival in the stable yard of Lord Greymoor and a pretty, petite blonde.

“My heart.” Nick wrapped the woman in a careful, if enthusiastic hug. “The day just grew more fair as I gaze upon the visage of my dearest little countess.”

The countess extricated herself from his embrace with an exasperated smile. “Save that balderdash for your horse, Nicholas, who probably takes it even less seriously than I. Introduce us, please.”

Nick made a proper job of it, introducing first Alice then Ethan, then presenting the boys. If introducing the governess to such august company was unusual, no one remarked it.

Greymoor, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and of a height with Ethan, bowed over Alice’s hand. “I do not ride a mare upon whom I might practice my flummery. You’ll have to do with a simple ‘Lovely to see you again.’”

Lady Greymoor met Alice’s gaze. “Humor my husband, please. Nick started it, but don’t encourage him. Mr. Grey, we expect you to be a good influence. They are in short supply at this gathering. Now, Miss Portman, you must accompany me inside, where we will get you into something more comfortable than that habit, while the men start snitching from the desserts. Greymoor, our guests need libation, and somebody ought to find James, William, Pen, Joyce, and Rose so the children might get acquainted.”

She swept Alice toward the house by the simple expedient of linking their arms. Alice knew with a certainty the men were admiring the view of their retreat.

“You are no governess,” Lady Greymoor remarked as she led Alice into the house.

“I beg your pardon, your ladyship?” Alice almost stopped walking, but such was Lady Greymoor’s forward momentum that Alice was tugged along anyway.

“At least you’re not a tart, like Mr. Grey’s late wife,” she went on. “Not that a tart is necessarily a bad choice. Greymoor was something of a tart when we wed. His brother was a very bad example, and there were extenuating circumstances. Your clothing was sent up to a guest room.”

“You need not accompany me,” Alice protested. The woman was a countess, for all her youth, and the hostess of the gathering.

Lady Greymoor turned a charming and alarmingly determined smile on her. “I very much do, and I am to let you know Lady Warne will join Mr. Grey for dinner at Heathgate’s on Saturday. You’re to let Mr. Grey know, as fair is fair, and the men won’t see it done. What lovely hair you have—I’ve often wished I weren’t so infernally blond, but Greymoor claims we make a stunning couple.”

Lady Greymoor took down a green silk summer dress Alice had sent over with the coach. “We can’t tarry up here, since the menfolk are unsupervised and Mr. Grey a stranger among them.”

It took several minutes for Alice to change, and Lady Greymoor insisted on redressing Alice’s hair. All the while, Alice was subjected to a gentle inquisition.

“So how fares our Mr. Grey?”

“Are the boys going to public school? The oldest must be almost seven.”

“They never seem to ride out as a family, do they?”

Alice was soon in her green silk, her hair repinned, and her meager store of knowledge regarding Mr. Grey plundered. She did not tell her hostess his kisses were sumptuous and his smile worth waiting days to behold.

“Do not let my brother-by-marriage put you off with his consequence,” Lady Greymoor suggested, taking Alice’s arm to escort her through the house. “Heathgate is a man with eloquent eyebrows, but he can be intimidating, unless you’re family. Any questions?”

“I think not.” In truth, she had too many to choose one.

“Good.” Lady Greymoor grinned as they emerged onto a side patio. She took a look at the expression on Alice’s face and frowned. “You haven’t moved about much in Society, have you?”

“I’m just a governess, my lady.”

“Hah.” Her tone was firm and very uncountess-like. “Steady on, and I’ll find you safe passage, but the menfolk need to be dealt with. My lord?”

Lord Greymoor turned an amused smile on his little countess. “My love? I see Miss Portman is sporting that dazed, uncomprehending look so common to your new acquaintances. Let me take her around, and you can turn your wiles on Mr. Grey.”

“You’re a dear.” She rose on her toes and kissed her husband’s cheek. “I thought I was going to have to prevaricate.”

“Perish the thought.” Greymoor winged his elbow. “Miss Portman, you’ve yet to meet my cousins.” Alice was drawn away as she saw the countess marching off in the direction of Ethan and his sons.

“I really think I should see to the boys, my lord.”

“I see a braw young footman hovering with their kite, Miss Portman. Resistance will get you nowhere. My lady claims you are not a governess, and she will have her curiosity satisfied.”

“What are you implying, my lord?” Alice allowed a little starch in her tone, because coming from a man, the accusation might have a prurient connotation.

Lord Greymoor shrugged muscular shoulders. “We will have to ask the countess what she implied. You are certainly prettier than any governess I ever had.”

“They won’t wake up until tomorrow,” Ethan said as he regarded his sons, sprawled on blankets on the floor of the coach. “Davey will see them to their beds, and Clara will get them undressed.”

“They played and played and played.” Alice brushed a lock of hair from Joshua’s closed eyes. “You’d think they never knew people their own age existed.”

Ethan turned to his brother, who was hovering near the wheelers. “Will you ride back with us or join John on the box?”

“I’ll keep John company. I had rather a deal of that whiskey, and the night air will clear my head.”

“Then I am your escort, Alice,” Ethan said. “Our mounts should be ready by now. Nick, don’t wait up. I know you’ve an early start.”

“Until morning.” Nick saluted his brother then bent to kiss Alice’s cheek. “Sweet dreams, lamby-pie. Remind me never to oppose you at pall-mall again.”

“Grey?” The Marquis of Heathgate emerged from shadows near the stables. “A word before you go?”

“Excuse me.” Ethan nodded to Nick and Alice, and joined his host’s brother.

She waited by the horses in the gathering darkness until Ethan rejoined her, content to let the men talk business or breeding stock or whatever was too unrefined for her delicate, tired ears. The marquis—who did indeed have eloquent, dark eyebrows—took a polite leave of her, and Ethan boosted her onto Waltzer’s back.

Though whatever passed between the two men, it hadn’t been about imports or commerce. The rising moon revealed Ethan’s features to be cast in granite, as remote and cool as a statue’s. The horses were back on Tydings land before Ethan bestirred himself to speak, and while Alice was concerned for him, she also had to marvel that she was happy—happy, content, and relaxed—to be on a horse’s back.

“Tell me you at least had a pleasant time, Alice.”

“Pleasant enough. The ladies are nice, if a bit fierce.”

“I’m to join them again on Saturday,” Ethan said, “for dinner. I wish I could take you along. I found them a rather intimidating lot myself.”

He was being honest. Perhaps it was the spirits consumed in some quantity earlier in the day, but Alice found that honesty touching. “And yet they’re friendly, and their regard for Nick sincere.”

“I cannot decide if Nick and the countess were lovers. Greymoor is extraordinarily tolerant, if that’s the case.”

“Not tolerant,” Alice said. “The earl and the countess are close and devoted, and she’s quite young. I doubt Nick would have dallied with her, but I doubt even more strongly she would have permitted it.”

“I cannot picture it,” Ethan said. “She’s barely five feet tall, while he’s six and a half feet plus. I can’t think it would be a comfortable union.”

“Do all men think in such blunt terms?”

“Yes, we absolutely do, about four hundred times a day. And I am not a particularly lusty fellow.”

This too was honesty, which Alice found… appalling. “I disagree, sir. I’ve kissed you, and I pronounce you very, very lusty, but also very discriminating.”

By the light of the rising moon, he turned in the saddle to regard her. “That is one of the nicest things anybody has said to me.”

“So it must ring true.” And she must not belabor the point and spoil the moment. “This isn’t the way we came.”

“It’s another path.” He drew rein as they gained a little clearing with a gazebo in it. “Let’s enjoy the night for a moment, shall we?”

Men. Their stratagems never ceased, and they called women calculating. “You’ll behave?”

“Get off your horse, Alice.” Ethan put his hands around her waist and lifted her easily to the ground. He didn’t let her go, but held her against him until her arms stole around his waist. “Let’s get something clear between us: I will not ever press my advances on you without your willingness. I could not, in fact.”

In contrast to his stern tones, his hands on her back were gentle.

“What does that mean?”

“Kiss me,” Ethan whispered, sealing his lips over hers. He took his time, but it wasn’t a cheerful little good-night indulgence. He brought her body close against his and angled her head with one large hand so she could not have avoided his kiss. His tongue was in her mouth, coaxing and teasing and implying a carnal rhythm that set up a low hum of need beneath the pit of Alice’s belly.

“Touch me, Alice,” Ethan whispered. “Put your hands on me.”

God above, it was a timely invitation. Alice wanted to burrow into him but settled for running her hands over his shoulders and arms. She swept her fingers through his hair, cradled his jaw in her palm, and rubbed her body along the length of his.

“Feel this.” Ethan took her hand and brought it to the evidence of his arousal. “This is proof I want you, and badly. But, Alice?”

She looked up at him in the moonlight, knowing if he took his hand away, she’d indulge the dangerous desire to shape and stroke him through his clothes.

“If you show me you don’t want me,” Ethan said, letting his hands fall to his sides, “I can’t sustain this. My flesh softens. I cannot consummate the deed. I am incapable of joining with you without your consent.”

“You’re capable now,” Alice said, trying to make sense of his words as she explored his length. “And other men don’t require consent.”

“I’m not other men. I have to know you’re not just willing, Alice, but enthusiastic about becoming intimate with me.”

Alice gave up the fascinating feel of him and stepped back. This topic was awkward and one he apparently needed to belabor. “I think we need to talk.”

“Come.” Ethan held out a hand and led her up the steps to the bench inside the gazebo. “We’ll talk.”

Something about him was off, not quite distracted, but not at ease. “Are you angry?”

“I’m… upset. Heathgate imparted some disturbing news, and I’m aroused, as proximity to you does that for me. But my ears function, and Nick understood my admonition to seek his bed.”

Men did not lightly admit to being upset. “Will I get another lecture from Nick in the morning about the need to tread lightly with his dear brother?”

That earned her a smile, bashful and a little exasperated. Alice catalogued it with the other smiles she’d hoarded up. “He lectured you? I would have liked to have seen that.”

“I’ll summon you next time. Greymoor preached at me too.”

The smile turned a trifle irritated. “I hardly know the man. What sermon could he possibly deliver when he’s hardly been a saint himself?”

“Your late wife was a trial,” Alice explained gently. “I am not to put you through that again. He was very oblique, all ‘one would be disappointed’ and ‘one observes,’ but I was given to understand that dealing with you dishonorably would be frowned upon. Your neighbors are protective of you.”

And the man’s eyebrows were every bit as fierce as his brother’s, despite his tendency to smile often when in company with his countess.

“You couldn’t deal dishonorably, not if you sprouted horns and a tail, you couldn’t. Still, I’m surprised Greymoor said anything.”

“He assumed the rights of a protective brother.” Alice reached a hand toward Ethan’s thigh then dropped it. “Your wife must have been quite something.”

She wanted to touch him, not simply sit beside him in the moonlight, and yet, she wanted to hear what he had to say, too.

“I chose very, very poorly, as did she. I like where your hands were, Alice Portman, so why don’t you touch me while you talk to me?”

He took her hand again, but only set it over his groin, then let his own hands fall away. Alice traced the considerable length of him, the breadth, trying to visualize what her hand stroked.

“I want to see you,” Alice said. “Really see you.”

He said nothing. Just unbuttoned his falls and then let his hands return to his sides. How long had he been waiting for her to ask?

“Look your fill. Some women find the sight alarming.”

“I’m not some women,” Alice said, regarding his lap dubiously. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Though why she’d bring up the topic now was a puzzle.

“You told me you’re not without experience, Alice.” Ethan stroked his knuckles over her cheek. “I couldn’t consider joining with you, otherwise.”

“I have more experience than I wanted,” Alice said on a sigh. “Or the wrong experience.” Her hand shaped him again, but still only through the loosened fabric of his breeches. “That scandal we haven’t talked about? I need to let you know the particulars.”

“If you need to. Only if you need to.”

The words caused her heart to lurch painfully but sweetly too. She could love a man who placed entire authority over such a topic in her hands, one who cared not one whit how wicked and sorry her past had been.

“You really don’t want to know, do you?” Alice drew her hand away, only to find Ethan’s fingers closing around her own and bringing it back.

“I have suffered some scandal,” he replied, closing his eyes as if to savor her touch. “And once somebody knows those things about you, it can become a burden between you. Heathgate…” He paused while Alice slowly drew down the flap of his falls then eased him out of his smalls. “Heathgate has that kind of knowledge of me. I’d relieve him of it if I could.”

“You’ll tell me.” Alice stroked a finger over the velvet head of his member. God in heaven, he was magnificent. “Someday?”

“If you want to hear.” He kept his eyes closed as Alice’s finger—just her finger—circled the soft, soft skin of his crown. Gently, Alice’s hand closed over his shaft.

“Tell me how to please you, Ethan,” Alice whispered. “I want to know how to please you.”