Charmed By Knight (The Fielding Brothers Saga) (12 page)

“Miss Ramsey, there is no need for refreshment,” he interrupted. “What I have to say will be short.” He paused, then sighed heavily before continuing. “I have come to tell you I’m withdrawing from the contest.”

She crinkled her forehead. “Pardon me?”

He nodded. “Yes, you heard me correctly.” He stepped closer and touched her clasped hands. “Please don’t feel this has anything to do with you. Other obligations have made themselves known of late, and I fear I cannot in good conscience continue to court you.”

“I understand.” Even though she really didn’t.

He smiled. “I hope we can remain friends.”

“Certainly. I will not accept anything less.”

He bowed over her hand and placed a proper kiss on her knuckles, then pulled away. “I have already spoken to your father.”

“Thank you.”

“I bid you good day.” He nodded, then turned and quit the room, placing his hat back on his head as he exited the house.

Curious, very curious.
What were the odds Edmund had something to do with this? If so, that would explain perfectly why
Kelton
backed out. Edmund Knight had ways to make even the simplest things go out of control. Especially her emotions. He must have some magical power over her. How else could she explain her reaction the other night at the ball when she had been pressed between him and the wall?

That horrid man. She dared imagine what he would do next.

She crossed her arms over her chest and walked to the window to stand in the sunlight. Since the announcement of her father’s contest, their house had been streaming with non-stop contenders. Flowers and invitations were pouring in daily.

She sighed.
Kelton
was now out of the contest. She should thank Edmund, or whoever it was, that gave her this little break in the day. She desperately needed this time of solitude.

Since
Kelton
had backed out, she wondered whom her father would now deem worthy. Would it be Lord Crestwood? Or perhaps Lord Rollins? And if Lord Lubbock weren’t so timid, maybe she’d consider him, too.

She massaged her forehead, her fingers drawing small circles on her skin. If she had her way, she’d choose none of them. Every one of them had one problem or another. If it wasn’t the long nose on Crestwood’s face making him look like a pelican, it was the hairy wart on Lubbock’s cheek. Lord Rollins used his snuffbox way too often, and too many teeth were missing in Lord
Cathbury’s
mouth.

Why couldn’t she find a man who had a handsome face and powerful physique similar to the one she couldn’t stop thinking about? Why did she compare all men to
him
?

“Miss Ramsey, Lord Crestwood has come calling,” the butler announced, snapping her attention to the servant. “He knows he’s early, but wonders if he can see you nonetheless.”

She smiled. “Yes, Gentry. I was expecting him, and since I am available, I will see him now. Will you inform my mother so she can join us?”

“Certainly.” He bowed, then left.

She waited for her mother to bring in Lord Crestwood. When they finally entered, she felt almost relieved to have something to occupy her mind besides the charming rogue who could make her senses reel with excitement.

Crestwood strolled closer and kissed her hand. His long nose touched her skin before his lips, and she cringed.

“Good afternoon, Lord Crestwood.”

“My, you are lovely.” He smiled. “It’s certainly a pleasure to be in your company.”

She held back from rolling her eyes. She could write a book of sonnets from all the false lines of endearments she’d received so far during this contest.

For the next hour, she focused on his topic of conversation, boring as it was, and tried not to stare at his long nose.
He does not resemble a pelican,
she kept telling herself.

Before he left, he made her promise he could escort her to the opera tonight. She had agreed so he would leave quicker.

Her mother leaned over on the sofa and touched her hand. “Megan, dear, you have been out of sorts this afternoon. Is there something amiss?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Are you still upset about your father’s contest?”

Megan gave her mother an irritated glare, then shook her head. “I suppose I should be grateful Father is at least allowing me to participate in this unorthodox method of snatching a husband.”

“Yes, you should. Your father is very generous.”

“No, he’s not. I wish you would remove your blinders and see him for what he really is.”

“He’s just looking out for your welfare.”

Megan fisted her hands. “No, I believe he’s looking out for
his
welfare. When we finally choose a man to be my husband, Father will not only have a wealthy son-in-law to cry to whenever he needs funds to pay his gambling debts, but he will have means to get his goldmine profitable. He doesn’t want to do it himself, and by marrying me off to the highest bidder, he will have the man to do his work.”

“
Megan
.” Her mother jumped from the sofa as if her seat were on fire. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “I don’t know what has come over you, child. Your father deserves more respect.”

Megan shrugged then slowly rose. She knew what had come over her. His name was Edmund. “Perhaps I will respect him after I’m married.” She turned to walk out of the room, only stopping when she reached the door. “Inform me when the next contender arrives. I will be in my room resting.”

* * * *

This particular opera wasn’t one of Edmund’s favorites. To be truthful, none of them were, but his main purpose tonight was to keep an eye on Megan and her escort – the ruthless Lord Beak-wood.

Edmund chuckled to himself over the nickname he’d picked for Crestwood. Out of a hundred men, he could find that man easily by imagining a group of birds perched on the lord’s long snout.

From his view on the upper level, Edmund could watch Megan perfectly, and the way her escort fawned all over her made Edmund grit his teeth. Crestwood sat a little too close to her, and Edmund wasn’t pleased with the way the other man peered hungrily at her. If Edmund found the chance, he’d reprimand that irresistible woman for wearing such a provocative dress. Why, it was almost shameful the way the sleeves of her blue gown hung off her shoulders. Now he knew why Crestwood couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

Edmund narrowed his gaze. Although he had no claim, seeing her with other men ate at his insides like a terminal disease. He wasn’t jealous. A jealous man cared. He didn’t. He desired the woman, wanted to conquer her, but as a gambler, he was only after the sport when the stakes were highest. There couldn’t be any higher stakes than the innocent daughter of a Baron, especially from the fool who’d cheated him out of his goldmine.

Lord Crestwood’s attention dipped again to Megan’s bodice, and Edmund’s hands balled into fists again. If it were him, he’d not be able to keep his eyes off her either…not to mention his hands.
Ah, yes, that fine porcelain skin and pert little nose.
She’s a beauty and a lady, but a lady with passion and fire.
I’ll be the one to consume that fire. Mark my words. The time is near…

Although most people didn’t know about the dark corners in the opera house, he did, and he’d be using one this very evening. She’d protest, naturally, but he’d convince her with his charm, just like he’d done in the past.

He shifted in his chair, growing more irritated with the scene playing out from across the room. Instead, he should be paying more attention to the woman he’d invited to accompany him for tonight’s performance. He glanced her way and she smiled at him.

“Mr. Knight, what has your mind so occupied this evening?”

Acting like the proper gentleman, he took Lady Downing’s hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a light kiss on the young widow’s knuckles. “My thoughts are occupied with your beauty, of course.”

She giggled, a sound he was beginning to hate, since that was all she had accomplished thus far this evening.

“Thank you, but if I’m in your thoughts, why have you been eyeing the couple across the room from us?”

He cursed to himself. She had noticed. “I just wondered if that’s Miss Ramsey with Lord Crestwood.” He nodded in the direction.

“Yes, I believe it is. Why do you ask?”

“I have just learned of the contest her father has established.” He chuckled. “I’m curious to know how she is handling it.”

“It appears as if she’s quite content to be popular this season.”

“Yes it does.”

“Mr. Knight? Are you thinking about entering?”

He laughed and turned his attention back to the young widow. “Why would I want to marry, when I can have the pick of the loveliest ladies in England?” He stroked her cheek.

Sarah giggled again. He mentally cringed. He had to watch what he said around her for the remainder of the evening so he wouldn’t make her laugh.

The buxom beauty leaned toward him. “I presume there is a wager going on at White’s, am I correct?”

He chuckled. “Why, Lady Downing, I’m surprised at you. How do you know of such a wager?”

“I’m not innocent. You must have forgotten about my late husband.” She grinned.

“Of course I have not forgotten about him. So…what if there is a bet going on at White’s?”

“Would you mind terribly placing a bet for me? In secret, of course.”

Her request should have shocked him, but he knew most women acted differently around him than they did most gentlemen. “And whom, pray tell, are you placing your money on?”

“
Kelton
.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but
Kelton
has backed out. Haven’t you heard?”

“No.”

“Yes, sad as it seems, he had other obligations.”

“And what obligations did he have, I wonder?”

He shrugged. “That information I’m not privileged to receive. Do you have a second choice?”

“I don’t.”

“What about Lord Crestwood?”

Her lips tightened, and on his arm, her fingers bit into him like sharp claws. He knew why. He’d just waited for the right moment to bring it up.

“What about Lord Crestwood, Mr. Knight?”

He patted her hands, hoping she would relax her painful grip. “No need to fear, Sarah,” he said softly. “I don’t think he will win.”

Releasing her hand, she flipped it through the air in a dismissal wave. “That doesn’t concern me.”

“Sarah.” He leaned closer, near her ear. “Rumor has it you are, indeed, concerned about Lord Crestwood’s activities.”

She glanced at him, malice blazing in her eyes.

“Am I correct?” he continued.

“Mr. Knight, Lord Crestwood is not mine to trouble myself with any longer.” She toyed with the ruffles on her dress, averting her gaze from his. “If you haven’t heard rumor as of late, the man has broken off his affair with his unknown mistress to pursue the lovely Miss Ramsey and her father’s ridiculous goldmine.”

Edmund squeezed her hands. “What if I can change it for you, my dear?”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “And what, pray tell, can you do for me?”

He laughed, pulling back to his seat as he took hold of his opera glasses. “Many people don’t know this, but gentlemen of the realm don’t like an untitled man taking what’s theirs. I think, my dear lady, once Crestwood sees me fawning over you tonight, he will change his tune very soon.”

“What will you do?” Eagerness laced her voice as she leaned into him.

“
Shh
, not now. The opera is about to start.”

When the music began playing, he breathed a sigh of relief. Now maybe Lady Downing would cease her prattle so he’d have more time to think about his plan. He really didn’t know what he’d do, but if Crestwood were like every other man in the realm, he’d not take lightly to Edmund taking advantage of his property.

Edmund straightened in his chair, holding up the opera glasses aimed at the stage, but didn’t peer into them. Instead, his attention moved to Megan and Crestwood’s box. Her escort sat very close to her. Edmund’s fingers tightened around the handle.

The lord leaned over to whisper something to Megan, and she laughed. Although Edmund couldn’t hear, he still imagined her musical voice and how it made his heart flip in his chest. If all went well, he’d have Crestwood and Lady Downing back in each other’s arms – and Crestwood would graciously bow out of the contest because of the embarrassing scene Edmund planned to create tonight.

He waited until the moment Crestwood’s attention began to wander, and when it neared, Edmund set down his opera glasses and slid his arm around Sarah’s shoulders. A small gasp came from her when she looked his way, but he shook his head and whispered, “Just play along, my dear. Your lover is watching.”

That brought a smile to her mouth, and she leaned into him for better effect. “I give you permission to do whatever you like to my person,” she said softly, “as long as it doesn’t draw attention.”

“The only attention I plan on receiving is from your dear Crestwood.”