Always His Earl (2 page)

“Couldn’t sleep?” George asked.

“Myles could’ve spoken up for Claire too. Every man in her life has betrayed her. I have to speak to her in private.” Basil headed for the front door.

“Basil, you’ll only make it worse for her. You can’t call. Not at this time of night. Myles was in the navy over a year before Claire was married. The wedding was done before he knew about it.” Following close behind his brother, George blocked the front door when Basil went to grab his hat. Davis rushed up, looking bewildered.

“My lord?” Davis asked.

“My brother and I are having a conversation. That’s all.” George understood his brother’s feelings but couldn’t let him impulsively dash out into the night.

A loud thump landed on the door, and George turned. Then something slapped against the heavy wood. The night was already making his head ache. George wanted to go to bed and wake up at his estate in the country.

“Get back, my lord,” Davis said.

Instead, George pulled the door open and quickly caught the cloaked form leaning on it. Her head fell back, and the hood revealed Lady Claire Philips. Blood stained her skin in places and trickled from her hair. Lifting her up, George felt her body tense.

“Claire!” Basil touched her face.

“We need to get her upstairs. Davis, order a carriage for me. Then you personally go for the doctor. Basil, get Mrs. Blake. Bring her to the guest room now.” George headed upstairs with the girl he’d watched grow up next door. Whimpers escaped her lips as he laid her on the bed.

George pushed aside her cloak and saw more blood. Claire’s hands were cut, her head clearly bled as well. It appeared that she’d bitten her lip. However, any touch made her wince so George let her be. The bastard Philips had obviously beaten her.

In a flurry, Mrs. Blake entered with a basin of water and a bag of medical aides. First, she administered smelling salts. Claire’s pretty blue eyes popped open, and she looked at George. Her tears fell quickly. “I made it? I’m so sorry. I had to get away. He wouldn’t stop. This time was so much worse.”

“You’re safe. Philips did this?” George took her hand.

She nodded. “You’re the only one I knew who wouldn’t turn me out. Don’t send me back, please, my lord.”

“Never.” George touched her cheek as Basil ran in with a bottle of laudanum. Now that she’d escaped, George had to find a way to keep her safe...legally or not. Only she knew how bad it was, and silently, he promised she’d never suffer again.

“Claire.” Basil sat on the bed with her and kissed her forehead.

“Don’t touch her, she’s hurt.” Mrs. Blake smacked him off the bed.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay. I knew I’d be safe with you.” She clung to Basil as the smelling salts wore off.

“She’s fainted again. Probably for the best. Poor thing. You men need to get out. I’ll cut her out of these wet clothes so the doctor can examine her. One of the maids is fetching a fresh nightgown.”

“No one can know she’s here, Mrs. Blake. You must make sure the staff is silent. There will be bonuses in it for all of you.” George had to think of controlling the scandal while his brother stared at his love.

“You’re going to keep her here?” Mrs. Blake asked.

“Yes. I want to hear what the doctor recommends. She’s not fit to go anywhere tonight. You understand?” George asked.

“Of course, my lord. The doctor must see her first,” Mrs. Blake agreed.

“Good. Basil, you keep an eye out. Mrs. Blake, stay with her. Davis should be back with the doctor soon.” George patted his brother on the back.

“Where are you going?” Basil demanded. “If anyone is going to kill Philips, it’s me.”

“Don’t talk like that. No one is killing anyone. I’m going to find her brother and bring him here. You are in charge. Keep her safe.” George knew putting Basil’s focus on Claire was the only solution.

Basil stared at Claire as George dashed out of the room and down the stairs. On his way down to the door, he caught the valets wondering about the ruckus.

“Good. Exactly who I need to see. Both of you are on guard duty. No one by the name of Philips enters this house. No one outside the household goes upstairs but the doctor. Arm yourselves.”

“You are in earnest, my lord?” Basil’s valet asked.

“I am. I’ll have more instructions later. Let the doctor up when he gets here, but no other visitors that aren’t with me. None.”

“Of course.” George’s valet helped the lord with his coat and gave him his hat and gloves.

“I need to go to my club, quick as you can.” George hopped into the waiting carriage. Rushing a reunion with Myles hadn’t been high on his list this trip to London. That bastard Philips had taken all George’s plans and thrown them in the fire. If that beating was any indication of what she’d had endured in her marriage, George only regretted that Claire hadn’t run to him sooner.

* * * * *

M
yles sat in the common room of the club. He enjoyed being free of orders and the relentless motion of the sea. People treated him better now that he was a rich man of the landed gentry. Plus, he had served in the navy at war against Napoleon, which earned him added attentions. Still he felt alone in a sea of smoke and political talk.

The news of his father and older brother’s death had both shocked and relieved him. Not that he coveted the fortune or lands his brother would’ve inherited. Life made Myles a second son, and he’d accepted that with grace. However, the navy was never Myles’ intention. The profession was noble and the war very just, but Myles was not a man of violence.

He’d prayed for freedom from that nautical life every night. His prayers were answered in a way that he regretted. From the letter George’s steward had sent about the condition of Thrushton Manor, fate had stepped in barely in time to save the family name. His father and brother were throwing their fortune away on women and games of chance.

Rereading the letter, Myles wanted to be sure he remembered everything when he called on Lord Thistledown the next day. He’d almost called on George tonight to have it behind him, but that would be inappropriate with his sister in London as well. Claire had to be his first visit in the morning.

Tonight, luck wasn’t on his side. He’d called at his sister’s house and been told she was at a ball. By the time Myles arrived, she was gone. No one knew if she’d gone home or on to another party so Myles returned to the club. No need to chase his sister all over London. She should enjoy her first Season in Society since mourning the deaths in their family.

Myles hoped she enjoyed her life. Her sudden marriage after Myles was at sea triggered a fury of letters between him and his father. No doubt, his father had to be behind it all. Basil Hardwick was a second son and that wasn’t good enough, in the opinion of Myles’ father. Mr. Harris was determined someone in his family should have a title.

To this day, Myles had never met his brother-in-law, Philips, but Myles hoped that Claire had a whirlwind courtship with the baron. Perhaps Basil was simply a childhood friend—an innocent first love. No hard feelings.

In her letters, Claire never said a word about her husband or Basil. She discussed nothing personal about her life at all. It was polite conversation, basic social news, and hopes that Myles was safe and well. The distance hurt Myles, but putting things in writing could be very dangerous for him.

Never would he risk his neck or George’s by putting a wrong word down on paper. He’d never even dared to ask his sister indirectly about the Earl of Thistledown. Her letters rarely mentioned George and revealed little. Claire only said it seemed that he wasn’t inclined to marry. The senior Harris had sent one letter before his death informing Myles that George had a new favorite companion and things were settled.

Not writing to George was part of the agreement. When his father discovered the truth of their relationship, Myles had to protect George from exposure and exile. The late Mr. Harris loved power and enjoyed wielding it. George and his family didn’t deserve to be punished for Myles’ father’s lack of character. To protect the man he loved, Myles had no alternative but to bow to his father’s wishes. Without a word to George, he entered the navy where he’d be far from the man he’d built his hopes and dreams around.

It took years for Myles to let go of the sorrow. But George never sent one friendly letter, not even in condolence for the deaths in Myles’ family. Myles had felt cut off from all the people he’d loved for years. Finally, he was lord of the manor, even if he lacked a title. He could repair what his father had broken and be free. At twenty-five, it was a tall order but he’d seen more death, disease, and hell in war than he would in the future. Life on a peaceful estate would be heaven.

Loud and rapid footsteps in the club’s common room made Myles look up. His heart nearly stopped. Lord Thistledown stood in the center and glanced around with determination. Their eyes met and Myles stood. It took all his will not to run to George. They’d never quarreled. Never doubted each other, but their romance had been torn apart. Myles wanted answers but couldn’t deny the lust was still there. Despite all the changes and so many unanswered questions, his feelings weren’t dead.

Not one letter in nearly nine years from the young earl. A man in George’s position would be expected to marry. Perhaps he was here to find a bride? Maybe he had a convenient companion? All that time. Myles had to believe it was over, or he’d be heartbroken for a second time.

George walked over to Myles with an intent look on his face. Dark-brown hair and hazel eyes stood out on his pale skin. George was broad in the shoulder and tall. His muscles were well earned from riding and walking about his large estate. The memory of their romps in the barn had made Myles’ worst days at sea tolerable. The spark had not gone out on what they had.

In public, they had to be old acquaintances. Myles had no earthly idea what they truly were at that moment.

“Lord Thistledown,” Myles bowed.

“Harris, we need to speak in private,” George said plainly.

Hope sprung in Myles, but they had to be discreet. “Of course, I can’t thank you enough for looking after my estate.”

“Do you have a room or not?” George demanded.

Myles turned and headed for his private chamber. The second George was inside Myles closed the door and forced himself to remain there. The small room with no prying eyes was no place for two men who’d spent as much time naked together as they had. Myles wanted to kiss his old lover. Just for a moment to simply forget they’d ever been apart.

George dominated the room. He paced as though he’d done nothing wrong. In fact, he seemed like a wronged man full of indignation and anger. He still smelled of sandalwood and tried to hide his emotions. Myles could see through him.

“What is so urgent?” Myles asked.

Both men watched each other carefully. Myles could see the desire smoldering in George’s eyes. Their connection was nothing like the casual attachments Myles had made do with onboard ship.

“I don’t have time for pleasantries. This is not a social call.” George regained his composure.

“You came about the estate information at this time of night?” Myles masked his pain with orderly manners. Being alone with George had never been like this.

George threw open Myles’ trunk. “No, I didn’t come for the estate! Pack your things. You’re coming with me.”

“What? We do need to be alone and speak plainly. But I think a club is appropriate for me. We have time now.” The urge to be intimate with George churned within Myles but discussion could lead to more pain.

George grabbed Myles by the shoulders and shook him. “Your estate is the least of our worries. Pack your things. Your beaten sister is at my home. The doctor is with her.

That husband of hers could be hunting her down.”

Shock set in as Myles stepped back. The power of George’s touch faded as the words sank in. Myles sprang into action. The two men tossed Myles’ belongings into the trunk. Myles threw on his coat and grabbed the trunk, used for toting his own load without servants. The coachman quickly took the trunk once they were outside of the club, and Myles joined George inside the carriage.

“Is it bad?” Myles asked.

“Bad enough that I ran out into the night without a footman or a pistol. That damn baron.” George shook his head.

“You took her in. Thank you. How did she make it to you?” Myles let the guilt hit him. The time for action would come, but first, he had to be a brother. His sister was being abused. No happy marriage or quick romance.

“I haven’t a clue. She turned up at our door. Basil spoke to her at a ball earlier. I tried to prevent it, but she seemed equally determined. The mess your father left,” George grumbled.

“I didn’t approve of it. Second sons rarely get a vote, especially when they are at sea.” Myles let his head fall back and studied the earl he’d loved for so long. The man still did the right things. Myles wanted to kiss him and ask so many questions as the carriage made its way through the thick after-party traffic. Instead, he focused on the one thing the men would agree on...Claire. “She was awake then? You spoke to her?

Maybe she’s not that bad?”

“I spoke to her briefly. She fainted again. I hope it isn’t that bad, but that it’s bad enough.” George glared out the window.

“What does that mean?” Myles couldn’t believe George would want Claire hurt to any degree.

“Don’t look at me like that.
I
haven’t changed. My life and attitude are exactly as they were before you went to sea. Think, Myles. If she isn’t hurt much at all, then her husband can demand her return at any time. I’m not letting her go back to that hell. We have to find another way,” George said.

Myles cursed the law. “If she’s alive, we have no legal recourse against him. She’s his wife.”

“I don’t have the answers, but I will find a solution. She’s in my home, and I won’t let Philips in or her out if I can help it. Basil is a wreck.”

“No less than I. If I’d known, I’d have done something. Found a way.” Myles looked George in the eye. Instead of solidarity and connection, Myles found a flicker of doubt. Beneath that, anger and resentment brewed. Myles couldn’t fight about whatever bothered George. Their past and feelings could only make things worse. If George had a new lover or ten, it didn’t matter. He was Claire’s best chance for survival.