Tempting the Earl Read online

  "Thank you, Simms, that will be all" Philip dismissed the housekeeper distractedly as he eyed the young woman Mrs. Simms had delivered to his library. Philip was again struck by her innocent beauty; she had an aspect of untouchability about her as she stood before him. He was unsure of how to go about handling the situation with this young female. It had never been his responsibility to interview potential domestic staff, nor had he much experience in interrogating people. And her ethereal appearance was highly distracting, he concluded as he gathered his thoughts before he proceeded to question her.

  He began by trying to get her to explain her situation. "Well, Emily, is it? I can see you have been well taken care of by my staff. Now maybe you can tell me what you were doing stealing a ride in my carriage last night."

  He tried to look stern as he questioned her but marveled at the look of proud defiance he saw her trying to control as she gazed at him without a word. Despite his ennui of late, Philip had a deeply abiding tendency to root for the underdog, and this girl was obviously trying to deal with some sort of burdensome problem. The earl was intrigued. Despite his haughty consideration for his own consequence, he sincerely wanted to assist the girl. He admired the courage that was obviously a part of her character; the fact that she would hide in his carriage was a testament to it. Of course he would not mind seeing her beauty about the estate either, he thought with a small smile, fascinated to see the play of emotions dance across her face as she tried to answer his questions.

  Emily realized that this manor would be an excellent place to hide from Edwin. Being a servant would provide a perfect disguise while she tried to figure out her future. She was terribly afraid of her guardian's catching up with her and what he would do with her if he did. She had no one to trust; even this handsome young lord could be a threat, if he knew what was at stake. The need to be skilled at subterfuge had never before arisen in Emily's life, and she didn't know how good she was going to be at lying, so she kept her story as simple as possible.

  "Yes, my lord, I am Emily," she replied with a dignified lilt. "I truly did not mean to steal from you. I just needed to get away. I was serving as lady's maid in a grand house, but I could no longer stay there. I saw your carriage and hopped aboard, as I did not see the harm. I am without a post now and hadn't the fare for the stage, you see," she continued somewhat cajolingly. "Thank you so much, my lord, for the meal and the place to stay last night. Your generosity is deeply appreciated. Perhaps you need a maid? I would be most happy for a position, sir," Emily concluded hopefully, then lowered her eyes as she waited to see what the earl would do.

  "Who was the lady you were serving?"

  "I would rather not say, my lord. I ran away and will not be going back. They were cruel," Emily replied fiercely and with a note of finality.

  Philip wondered at the dignified and refined speech and recognized a real thread of fear in her voice despite the defiant tilt of her head. He knew there was much she was leaving out; however, there was sincerity in her voice as she expressed the cruelty she had experienced. Looking at her beauty, he thought that the lord might have made improper advances. Perhaps she had not actually run away but had been thrown out by the lady. Maybe she was even in a "delicate situation," he surmised. But good-naturedly he decided, we will cross that bridge when we have to. I cannot turn my back on her; she is obviously in some sort of trouble.

  As she had answered his questions, he had observed the play of emotions across her face; she had vacillated between defiance and fear. Fear seemed to be winning out, and he hesitated to press her. In the meantime, Mrs. Simms says we could use another housemaid. She doesn't look too sturdy. I wonder if she will hold up to much work, he thought before speaking aloud to her.

  "Well, Emily, what were your duties for the `grand lady' you were working for before?"

  "I assisted her with keeping up the library and with her correspondence. I also worked with the gardeners a couple of afternoons each week when milady went out visiting, besides looking after milady's wardrobe and toilette," she improvised.

  "Sounds as if you were kept quite busy. Did you enjoy your work, Emily?"

  "Oh, yes, particularly in the library and in the garden," Emily exclaimed with enthusiasm as she thought, and that at least is true. I loved the library and the garden.

  "My secretary, Mr. Dale, is the one in charge of the library. You can assist him with his duties there, and perhaps Henri can use an extra pair of hands in the gardens. Mrs. Simms will tell you what duties she has for you as well. We shall see how this works out for the time being."

  "Thank you, my lord," Emily murmured with as much deference as she could muster, trying not to reveal the elation bubbling up inside her at the prospect of being safe and reasonably comfortable for the first time in months. Having enjoyable work to do would be the icing on the cake.

  "You may familiarize yourself with the library for now, and when Mr. Dale is available, he can advise you on what assistance he might require."

  "Thank you, my lord. I will try not to disturb you while you work"

  With that Emily turned and started gazing about her for the first time since she entered the vast room. She gasped with pleasure at the splendor of the collection. Massive bookshelves ran from floor to ceiling, crammed full of priceless editions. Some, she could see, were quite old and rare, and the variety was endless. This was obviously not just for show but a true collection by a real book lover, one she would take great pleasure in exploring.

  She approached the nearest shelves and reverentially reached out a hesitant hand to touch a heavy volume. "Sophocles," she whispered to herself as she delicately fingered the next volume and took a deep breath of the unique scent of the books.

  The earl was watching her with a mixture of curiosity and appreciation. What an odd little baggage she is. What serving wench knows anything about Greek philosophy? Who is this girl so lovingly handling my books? He watched her classic profile as she bent over the next volume she was examining. Her skin was slightly flushed, and her eyes were sparkling as she absently glanced up at him. She was startled to catch him watching her, and her gaze turned wary.

  She hesitated, then said politely and formally, "You have a wonderful library, my lord. It will be a great pleasure to work with your books in whatever capacity your secretary sees fit. Thank you for this opportunity"

  "You are quite welcome, Emily. I have never seen anyone take such pleasure in my library. You obviously have been educated" He said this last bit with a questioning lilt in his voice, again assailed by curiosity about this mysterious young woman.

  With that, Emily's face closed up and lost its animation. "Yes, my lord," she replied, and she turned her back on him in what some might consider a rude manner coming from a servant. But the earl realized she was desperately guarding her secrets, whatever they might be, and did not take offense at what was obviously an instinctive effort at self-preservation. His curiosity, always ready to surface, was fighting to get the better of him. He wanted to press her for answers to all the questions burning in his brain but was unable to think of a way to get her to tell him what he wanted to know.

  He turned back to his papers and tried to ignore her presence in his sanctum. As time passed, he could almost do it, but he would hear her sigh over some tome she was examining, and he could not help himself. He would gaze admiringly at her youthful beauty as she peered into his books. The night's rest had obviously served her well, and she had apparently been scrubbed to within an inch of her life, he thought with a smile as he noticed her pink skin and the obstinate curls that were trying to defy the severe hairstyle she had tried to force upon it. Her allure was distracting, and he was increasingly frustrated with the maid's innocent presence in his library. Despite his experience with women, he knew she was not in any way trying to attract him, and that somehow added to the effect and his frustration.

  He was never so happy to see James enter the room as he was that day. "Where have you been?" he demanded crossly.


  James was startled at the uncharacteristic snarl in his master's voice. "It is the usual time for me to arrive, milord. Is aught amiss?" James questioned concernedly.

  "No, no, James, I'm sorry. It has been a strange morning. Come in, sit down, and let's get to work. Oh, you should meet your new assistant," he said with a rueful chuckle. "Emily, come over here and meet Mr. Dale. James, this is Emily. She will be helping you with the library and whatever other jobs you see fit to give her. She is quite taken with the books. Maybe you have some assignments for her there?"

  Philip watched in amusement as his normally unflappable secretary had trouble keeping his jaw properly shut as he took in the young woman being introduced to him. James' cheeks reddened. Although able to converse intelligently upon many subjects with the aristocratic crowd the earl associated with, the young secretary occasionally became painfully shy when attempting conversation with women, particularly attractive ones, and the sight of this one clearly tied poor James into knots.

  Always gracious, Emily tried to put him at ease. She dropped a brief curtsy and said, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir, and shall endeavor to do all the tasks you may assign me as diligently as I am able. Perhaps you have something in mind I could start on," she suggested gently, recognizing his shyness but oblivious to its source.

  James gathered his composure and pondered for a moment, refusing to look at her. He shoved his lanky dark hair off his forehead absently while he gazed at the earl in perplexity. "Well, the books desperately need to be catalogued and an inventory taken of which ones need to receive some maintenance. Is that within your realm of experience?" he questioned hesitantly.

  "Oh, that is most excellent. I could start on that right away. Thank you, sir. Excuse me, my lord" And she bowed herself gracefully away to start her work, happy to have something constructive to do, taking her mind off her worries.

  James' wide-eyed stare turned to Lord Yorkleigh. Philip just shrugged helplessly, at a loss for an explanation, so they started in on the paperwork that was always piling up for the landlord of vast estates.

  A few hours later the two men decided to call it quits for the day, and the earl offered his secretary a glass of liquor. As he got up to ring for the butler, his eyes caught on the shapely ankles of his new maid.

  "Emily!" he almost yelped as he looked up at her on the ladder. "Whatever are you doing up there? Get down at once. You will trip over your skirts and fall and break your neck. What were you thinking?" he demanded crossly. He knew he was being unreasonable-that was what the ladder was for, after all-but he just could not help being concerned for the girl's safety.

  "I am so sorry, my lord. I was just trying to reach that last volume of Josephus. I thought it would be best to shelve them all together. I did not wish to disturb you at your work, my lord. I'm sorry for upsetting you," Emily explained in a rush as she bobbed him a deferential curtsy, hoping desperately he would not ban her from the library.

  She had had the best day in ever so long. She had greatly enjoyed listening to the informative dialogue between the master and his secretary. She was amazed at how involved the earl was with all the infinite details of running his estates. It impressed her that he knew about the lives of his tenants. Most in his position did not even know their names, she was sure. He was very proud, but her estimation of him had grown, and she wished to learn more of the management details of being a landlord. It would be very useful information to have if she could ever get her own affairs straightened out.

  Philip raked a hand through his dark, wavy hair, trying to contain his tumultuous feelings, realizing he was being strangely irrational with regard to the young woman standing with calm dignity before him. After heaving a frustrated sigh, he dismissed her for the day. "That will be all for today, Emily. Go see Mrs. Simms and get a new assignment from her. We will not be requiring your services here for the rest of the day. You can work out a schedule with Mr. Dale tomorrow"

  Emily bobbed another quick curtsy and left the room with relief. The earl had not banned her from his home or his library, and she knew she would be safe there for a while. She went off in search of the housekeeper, determined to be an efficient servant in payment for the guardianship the earl was unaware of providing for her.

  The next day Mrs. Simms directed Emily toward Henri, the head gardener, having informed the startled older man that the young miss was going to be assisting him. His slightly disheveled look increased in disarray as he tugged on his wiry gray locks, ranting over this seeming slight to his botanical genius.

  "Never had a she-person helping out in the garden before. Don't know what's going on with his lordship, that I don't! Of what use is a she-person going to be to me, that's what I'd like to know.." He continued grumbling as he paced in front of her.

  Emily was a bit taken aback. Realizing how the gardener felt about her dubious help made her uneasy, but she put on a brave face, cleared her throat loudly, and announced, "I'm here, sir, ready to be of assistance"

  "Well, let me have a look at you. I don't think you'll be of much use-you're much too scrawny. What I need are some strapping young men. What's his lordship thinking, that's what I want to know" He drifted off into his grumbling again.

  Emily's eyes were wide with indecision, but she set her shoulders and said firmly, "I may be small, sir, but I am a good worker, and I have experience working in a similar style of garden in the past. If you will give me a chance, I would like very much to be of assistance to you in the earl's gardens"

  Henri shrugged in a decidedly foreign manner and waved a hand toward a distant garden. "Go see what you can do with the flowers. The heads need removing, and so do the weeds. I'll check on you later and see what you're capable of"

  "Thank you, sir. I will see you later, then" With that Emily made her way happily to begin her tasks, determined to prove her abilities and worth to the grumpy older man.

  Lord Yorkleigh stood at a distance, debating the wisdom of interrupting the slight figure bent over her work. He had been wondering if he had taken a blow to the head that he couldn't remember, so distracted was he by thoughts of this young woman. He had been unable to settle down to work that morning, disturbed by wondering what she was up to. He had been disgusted with himself but had once again succumbed to his curiosity and gone off in search of her, leaving James to deal with details in the library. Henri had made it quite clear what his opinion was on the matter of a woman's dubious assistance; it had been a highly amusing exchange.

  So there Philip stood, admiring Emily as she tugged vigorously at the stubborn weeds Henri was testing her on. As he had left the house, an impulse had caused him to pick up an old hat and pair of gloves left in a cupboard by his mother. Thinking of Emily's pale, delicate-looking skin, he had thought she could use them, before he realized that none of his servants displayed much vanity. He was starting to feel awkward just standing there looking at her, so he strode forward briskly to interrupt her.

  Emily was just then wishing she had a broad-brimmed hat and some gloves and supposing that she would have to get over her vanities now that she was a maidservant, when a well-manicured hand appeared before her eyes holding out just those things. She looked up in amazement, a delighted smile gracing her face.

  "My lord, how did you know that was just what I was wishing for?"

  "I figured you would bum that fair skin of yours in the sun out here all day. I don't think that's a sight Mr. Dale is prepared to face when you are helping him in the library," Philip prevaricated as he took in the information that she really hadn't a clue about the way things usually worked. It had been an impulsive gesture, bringing the hat and gloves as an excuse for seeking her out. He had not actually expected her to accept the articles so readily. It was members of the ton who concerned themselves about maintaining their creamy complexions.

  He grew ever more intrigued with his secretive little maid. What kind of servant was she, this beautiful young woman with a closetful of secrets? He was pow
erfully attracted and yet frustratingly disturbed by her. She was heartbreakingly beautiful, but he could not forget the bedraggled mess that had climbed out of his carriage boot just days before. And he was repulsed by his own attraction to someone from the servants' quarters.

  He was drawn to her in a way he had never felt before. He argued with himself that it was merely compassion for an obviously troubled young woman, completely ignoring the fact that others in his employ had trouble in their background and he had never felt the intense need to observe and protect them that he did with this Emily.

  He shook his head and left her to her work after seeing that she was getting along well in the gardens. He observed that Henri hadn't dismissed her yet. Even that surly old coot isn't immune to her charms, Philip thought with a chuckle as he wondered if everyone on the estate would fall at her feet.

  After the earl left, Emily had the vague sensation that the sun had gone behind a cloud, but when she stood to stretch out her sore muscles and glance around the now immaculate patch of garden, she could see that the sun was still blazing in the spring sky.

  The gardens and the woods beyond gave her a comforting sense of security; she was safe in her anonymity as one of Yorkleigh's many maids on the vast estate. No one would bother her here, and she could find contentment. She was determined not to give in to defeat.

  It was wonderful to breathe fresh air, and she could not seem to get enough of the sweet smells as she continued to work. Emily wondered absently if she would ever be able to forget the horrendous stench of the asylum. She could not stop herself from taking deep, gulping breaths of the air, so clean in contrast to the pungent odors she had had to deal with for so many weeks.

  She was delighted to be in a garden again after so long, but she had quite forgotten how much work it could be and was feeling the consequences. Spending so much time in a tiny cell had weakened her, she realized as she felt the strain of bending and pulling. She struggled to continue, not wanting to be labeled as lazy, trying to please the cranky Henri.