The Earl’s Dangerous Passion (Historical Regency Romance) Read online

  “Did you expect her to talk to you, my lord?”

  “I...I don’t know. She did talk to me often before when we were younger.” Derby rubbed his hand over his face. “And she left very abruptly as well.”

  Derby had half-expected to come back from the buffet table to find Amy gone. He would have been incredibly surprised if Amy had stayed. But he had been disappointed to return and see that the table was empty. Amy had fled yet again. Derby had wanted to go after her, but that would have raised a lot of eyebrows. He needed to bide his time, let everything go at Amy’s pace. If she wanted to speak to him, he would wait for her to come to him.

  Then Derby realized Dobson was looking at him curiously. He shifted in his chair.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You find Miss Hartley attractive, don’t you?”

  “I...what?” Derby started. “I beg your pardon? Did you just assume that I find Miss Hartley attractive?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  For a moment, Derby was speechless. His attraction for Amy wasn’t something he denied himself, but he hadn’t realized anyone else had noticed, especially his valet. Derby narrowed his eyes.

  “Is this part of you not doing your job, Dobson?”

  “My job is to look after you, my lord,” Dobson replied without blinking. “That includes your mental welfare. I need to know if you’re in the right frame of mind.”

  “Last time I checked, my frame of mind hadn’t been questioned, and whether I find her attractive or not is none of your business.” Derby sat back and shook his head. “She wouldn’t consider me in the same way, as it is.”

  That was the sobering part. Amy Hartley was a childhood friend. They had known each other for years, and Derby was sure that Amy merely saw him as the brother she didn’t have. When they were children, and Amy was going through the trauma of her mother divorcing her father and then marrying a ghastly woman to take Anna Hartley’s place, the two of them would talk. Amy saw Derby as someone to confide in. Even as they grew up, Amy would write to him every now and then asking for advice. Derby had kept all the letters, unable to throw them away.

  While he had watched her grow into a beautiful woman along with his feelings for her, Derby didn’t think the feelings were reciprocated.

  “Well,” Dobson turned away and headed around the desk, “I guess that answers my suspicions.”

  Derby groaned.

  “Some days, I wish I had hired someone who wasn’t as observant,” he grumbled.

  Dobson flashed a smile at his master over his shoulder as he reached the door.

  “How would you be able to cope without me?”

  * * *

  “Here you are, Amy.”

  Amy looked up when someone touched her shoulder. A huge man with blazing red hair was standing beside her, holding out a cup and saucer. Amy smiled and took her cup of tea.

  “Thank you, James.”

  “You’re welcome.” Doctor James Day came around the bed and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his wife’s head as she lay on the pillows. “Sorry, honey, I’ve got to go and see a patient. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Don’t worry about us.” Anna Day gave him a warm, loving smile. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure.” Doctor Day looked at Amy with an affectionate grin. “Take care of her, Amy.”

  “Of course.”

  Briefly stroking his wife’s head, Doctor Day picked up his medical bag and left the room. As the door closed behind him, and Amy could hear his footsteps on the stairs, Anna let out a heavy sigh and shifted herself to a more upright position.

  “He does fuss over me so,” she said, adjusting the pillows behind her. “I’m getting better now.”

  “It’s because he loves you,” Amy pointed out. “I would be concerned if he wasn’t fussing over you.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Anna made a face. “I just don’t understand. I haven’t been ill like this for years. Maybe even at all. It’s completely knocked me off my feet.”

  Amy agreed. Her mother had been a strong-willed, healthy woman. It was only in the last two years that her health had changed, and Anna spent more time in bed than she did up and about. Amy knew that frustrated her. Anna Day loved to keep busy.

  At least her second husband of six years was able to look after her. Amy was glad James Day was around. He devoted himself to his wife, and he didn’t bat an eye at how much Anna was ill. There was a wave of sickness going through London, although it was alarming at how much Anna was ill in two years. Amy was worried about it, but Doctor Day didn’t seem to be. He was more than likely used to it.

  Anna wished she had been allowed to live with her mother. Even though she had been living alone, no husband in sight, her mother was a better option than her father. But Society dictated that a daughter stayed with her father unless he was dead. And the judge had given Anna the condition that he would grant her divorce, but she couldn’t take Amy with her. It had felt like a form of blackmail to stay with her husband when Amy heard about it.

  She didn’t like being left behind, but she was glad Anna had left. She was happier, smiling more and loving life. Even when she wasn’t well.

  Chapter Four

  “What’s troubling you, love?”

  Amy jumped. She hadn’t realized she had wandered off in her own thoughts. Anna was watching her closely through narrowed eyes. It was that scrutiny that made Amy uncomfortable. She shifted in her seat, sipping her tea.

  “Nothing’s troubling me, Mother. I’m fine.”

  Anna sighed.

  “Amy, you’re my daughter. I know you. Don’t lie to me now.”

  Amy put her cup and saucer to one side. It wasn’t anything new she was thinking about. Her mother had to know that by now. She placed her hands in her lap and looked at the coverlet on the bed.

  “Father and Beatrice are forcing me to choose someone out of the men they’ve picked out for me to be my husband. They wanted me to be married as soon as possible.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad. I thought you wanted to get out of the house.”

  “I want to leave badly, but you haven’t seen the choices they’ve made.” Amy huffed. “It’s like they’re trying to marry me to a replica of Father.”

  Anna raised her eyebrows.

  “Knowing your father, I wouldn’t be surprised. His way or no way. Anyone who can stand up to him would be considered dangerous, so they wouldn’t be a good choice. He wants someone he can mold.”

  Amy agreed. Hartley didn’t like it when someone squared up to him, challenged him on anything. He wanted to be in the right at all times. He was in charge. Amy hated that about him.

  “I wish I wasn’t living with them, Mother,” Amy lamented. “It’s horrible. Every chance possible, they make it known to me that they don’t want me around, especially Beatrice. She just wants Father to herself. I don’t mind that part, but Father listens to her.”

  Hartley hadn’t been a great father before, but Beatrice’s presence made him worse. It was like living with a tyrant.

  Anna beckoned Amy over. Amy shifted to sit on the bed, taking her mother’s hand.

  “I know, darling,” Anna kissed Amy’s hand. “But you know that you couldn’t live with me. I had to give up more than just my marriage and my title. It pained me to do that and leave you behind, but there was nothing I could do.”

  Amy understood that. Had Anna stayed any longer, Hartley would have killed her. He got extremely volatile, and Anna took the brunt of it. She had been incredibly lucky to be one of the few women in the last hundred years to be granted a divorce. But that was as far as it had gone. Amy had cried herself to sleep several times as a young girl. It wasn’t fair that she had been left behind. Hartley and his new wife reminded her of that every day.

  “I still wish you had taken me with you,” said Amy. “I mean, can’t I live with you now? You’re married now, and James could easily find a decent husband for me. I trust his judgment.”r />
  “Just because he’s a good doctor doesn’t mean everything else in his life is trustworthy.” Anna giggled. “I wouldn’t trust him to choose a potential match for you.”

  “I would. More than my father.”

  “But James is your stepfather. Unless your father dies, he can’t find you anyone.”

  Amy hated being the property of her father. He loved to make it known that he was in charge, and she had no choice. She huffed.

  “Sometimes, I wish Father would drop down dead.”

  “Oh, Amy,” Anna stroked her daughter’s cheek. “Don’t be like that. You and your father may not get along, but you don’t wish death on him.”

  “What about Beatrice?”

  Anna paused, biting her lip. Amy could see she was trying to hide a smile.

  “I won’t be so unchristian as to say anything unsavory about my successor.”

  “I would,” Amy retorted.

  “Not in my earshot.” Anna sat up. “Oh, speaking of frustrating men, have you figured out who is writing those letters to you?”

  At the mention of the letters, Amy felt a shiver up her spine. Over the last year, she had been receiving unsigned letters on a regular basis. At first, they had been sweet, like they were from a secret admirer. But then there was the occasional letter that would have Amy looking over her shoulder for days afterward. Whoever was writing to her had to be unbalanced to go from one extreme of emotion to another so quickly.

  It had been a year now, and Amy was no closer to knowing who was writing to her. It was frustrating. In the beginning, Amy had shown her father the letters, but Hartley dismissed them and said they were meaningless, and that Amy wasn’t to get herself worked up over something silly.

  Amy hadn’t gone to her father about the letters after that. And Beatrice had no idea about it unless her husband had said something to her. She certainly wouldn’t have been of any use.

  “Amy?”

  Amy realized she had been wandering off in her own thoughts again. She sighed and shook her head.

  “Not yet. I received another letter this morning. Mr. Carlton managed to swipe it before Father saw it and left it on my breakfast tray.”

  It wasn’t exactly what Amy wanted to read with her breakfast, but Amy was glad Hartley hadn’t seen it.

  “And what was in it?” Anna asked.

  “Sweet nothings today, but with the pattern I’ve seen happening, I have a feeling that the next one will be rather threatening.”

  Anna frowned.

  “You still don’t know who it is?”

  “I’m afraid not. I don’t know anyone who would write to me in that way. If I’m honest, I didn’t think anyone would want to write to me at all.”

  “Oh, nonsense, Amy. You’re a beautiful girl. Everyone will have noticed that by now.”

  Amy felt her face getting warm. Her mother liked to compliment her far too much. It was embarrassing. Anna had far too much faith in her only child, far too much belief. Amy wished she wasn’t put on such a pedestal.

  Of course, it was better than being berated and beaten by her father, but Amy just wanted to blend into the background and not be known. It was easier just to be on her own.

  “You flatter me too much, Mother,” she protested.

  “It’s the truth.” Anna squeezed Amy’s fingers. “I know you’re my daughter, so I will be biased in my opinions, but you are a beautiful girl both inside and out. Men are going to want a beautiful girl on their arm as their wife.”

  Amy made a face.

  “I don’t want to be seen as a prize somebody won. And from the way this mystery person is writing, he sees me as a prize he wants, but I’m not submitting to him.”

  “It’s a little difficult to submit when you don’t know who it is.” Anna brightened. “I know, why don’t you talk to the Earl of Derby?”

  “Derby?” Amy started, almost falling off the bed. “Why would I want to talk to him?”

  “I thought maybe he could help you out. He has a lot of contacts, so there’s a chance he might be able to find out who’s sending these letters.”

  Anna did have a point. Derby was known to have his fingers in a lot of things. He knew people, and he knew a lot about them. His reach was quite far. Amy knew that much. If anyone could find out who was sending these anonymous letters, it would be him.

  But Amy was too shy about going back to see him. How could she after she had practically run out on him? Derby would be offended that she had left in the way she had seeing as she hadn’t exactly done it in a refined way. She had committed a lot of faux pas just by leaving abruptly. Would he even want to entertain her, let alone hear what she had to say? Amy wasn’t sure anymore.

  “What’s the matter, Amy?” Anna frowned. “You’re still acquainted with the Earl, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yes,” Amy hesitated, “sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I…” Amy bit her lip, pulling her hand away from her mother’s and wringing her hands together in her lap. “I kind of ran away from him last night. He went to get me some food, and I started panicking again, so I left. Run, would be a better word.”

  “Oh, Amy.” Anna laughed. “Derby’s known you for years. He isn’t going to be insulted by your actions.”

  Amy hoped not, but that fear was still there. Then again, hadn’t Derby said to her that she could come to him and talk if she needed his help? He was there if Amy needed some advice. Why shouldn’t she square her shoulders and go to him? The Earl wasn’t one to break his promises, even if he had been abruptly deserted.

  “Do you think he’ll help me?”

  “I’m sure he will.” Anna smiled. “You know, Derby’s quite fond of you.”

  “Me?” Amy squeaked. “How do you know that?”

  “I’m a mother. I always know.”

  Derby was fond of her? Amy could feel her face getting even warmer. And that warmth was spreading across her body, settling firmly in her belly. It was getting uncomfortable to sit down. Amy shifted, but the throbbing that had started between her legs wouldn’t go. She huffed and glared at her mother.

  “I think you were easier to talk to when you were sleeping,” she grumbled.

  All she got was a smile in return.

  * * *

  Derby was into the flow of things now. It took a while for him to get into doing the accounts, but now he was flying through it. Everything had come together, and he didn’t want to be interrupted. He had specifically told his servants not to bother him, so this could be completed. Derby didn’t like things being left undone.

  But then someone was knocking at the door. Derby growled and put his pen aside before it blotted the book.

  “Yes!”

  The door opened, and his butler came in, giving him a bow with his usual sober expression.

  “My lord.”

  “What do you want, Bryan? I told everyone that I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

  “My apologies, Lord Derby, but Miss Hartley and Mrs. Day are here. They wanted to speak with you, but they don’t have an appointment.”

  That had Derby’s attention. His pulse quickened. Amy was here? He certainly hadn’t been expecting her, but he wasn’t about to turn her away. Derby shot to his feet before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat and adjusted his waistcoat, reaching for his coat.

  “Put them in the morning room. I’ll come and speak to them.”

  “Very good, my lord.”

  Bryan left as Derby shrugged into his coat. He realized his hands were trembling, and his trousers were beginning to get a little tighter than before. Just the mere mention of Amy Hartley had his mind wandering to places where it shouldn’t go.

  He was going to get himself into trouble if he didn’t keep himself under control. A gentleman never did anything untoward. But there were times when Derby wished he wasn’t such a gentleman. Just the mere mention of Amy had that threatening to go out the window.

  It was difficult fee
ling attraction towards a woman where he wasn’t allowed to express himself openly, especially with the fear that she might reject him. Derby didn’t want to go down that route. He almost ran down the hall, slowing as he reached the morning room. He shouldn’t look so excited to see his guests. Straightening his coat, Derby took a deep breath and entered the room. His eyes went straight to Amy, who was pacing around by the window. She was wringing her hands, and she looked nervous. Derby couldn’t help but stare at her. Amy looked particularly lovely today, clothed in a simple, pale yellow dress, one that fitted well to her curves. It was modest, perfect for current Society, but Derby’s eyes were drawn over Amy’s body, pausing at her breasts. She was breathing quickly, her face flushed, causing her chest to push against the fabric, binding her chest.