CHAPTER TWO
The Earl of Bridgeton, William Spencer, had been living in seclusion in Dover at Spencer Estate for nearly twelve years. Family scandal and death had driven him out of London. His brother, Geoffrey, the earl before him, had died at the hands of highwaymen. Some said William had planned Geoffrey’s demise to acquire the title—that he had been driven by greed as the second son who wanted it all. Then, six months after his brother’s death, Geoffrey’s pregnant wife, Katherine, drowned in the small stream near their home. Rumor had it William killed her to keep an heir from being born, an heir who could have taken the title away from him.
Utter nonsense.
Then why had William exiled himself in the country? He did not have an easy answer for that. Perhaps he continued to punish himself because he was still among the living when the two people he loved most in the world were not. Perhaps the gossip embarrassed him. The answer really did not matter, for William had vowed he would never enter London Society again. He’d adjusted to this country life he led. His happiness now came from being alone with his loyal servants and his estate accounts.
What else was there in this lifetime for him? If the truth of their lives and those long-ago deaths came out, it would cause scandal and point fingers in directions he didn’t want. He preferred to look the villain.
William’s perfectly boring existence suited him. Or so he thought, until the day he saw the lovely young woman standing in the stream that separated his property from his neighbor, the Duke of Wentworth’s. The duke was eight years William’s junior, so they hardly knew one another. He did recall, however, that the duke had two younger sisters and a brother.
Intrigued by the young woman’s presence and her sadness, William visited the stream at the same time daily for the next sennight, hoping to see her again. Something about this lovely stranger intrigued him. There were days William tried to stay away, he could not.
Each day she came there alone. And for seven days he did not disturb her; rather he watched with growing interest and compassion.
He watched each day as she stood on the banks of the stream and cried, her head tilted up to the sky, arms up in the air, as if reaching for something or someone.
Each day the hard shield surrounding his heart had melted a bit more.
But this day, he had sat on his horse and watched from behind some trees. He should have walked as he’d done previously. To his shock, the young lady altered her routine. She removed her boots and stockings, hiked her skirts up above her knees, and waded into the cool water. The vision of her there drew from him a need to protect her as a swarm of memories surfaced, of dangers past. The memories were almost too much for his senses. Then he caught a glimpse of her bare legs, boldly uncovered, and William reacted like a green lad barely out of the schoolroom. His mouth dried up and his pulse thrummed at the sight. It had been years since he’d seen a beautiful woman or any woman who was not one in his employ as a servant. It had also been just as long since he’d bedded any woman. His principles would not allow him to take a household servant to his bed. But this girl––and William had to call her a girl, as she looked no older than ten-and-eight––woke up long-dormant emotions and passions inside him. Emotions he would just as soon have stayed buried.
Today he’d noticed her deep sable hair, piled carelessly on top of her head. If he plucked out one pin, he imagined her tresses would fall wildly down to her narrow waist. Her waist hugged by an aquamarine day dress with a deliciously scooped neckline. A neckline low enough so that when she bent over to pick up her boots, she exposed the tops of her lovely breasts. William licked his dry lips and fought not to reveal himself by groaning out loud. Her skin appeared flawless and creamy, her nose small and pert, her lips full and pink. Her eyes were a soft chocolate brown—so alive he wanted to escape in them and never return.
When the woman paused, looked around anxiously, and dropped her skirts into the stream, he realized he had groaned out loud. Her panicked eyes found and settled on his, and she began to struggle to reach dry ground. So he’d said the first thing that came to his mind.
“Please, do not be afraid.”
As William watched her hurried footsteps take her further and further away from him now, he realized what a fool he’d been. Why hadn’t he been quiet? He’d known that once he gave himself away, he could no longer hide behind the trees and watch her silently.
On some level, in the beginning, it had angered him to have his special spot invaded by someone. Not that this spot brought back good memories––quite the opposite––but still it was his spot. Now, he relished sharing his spot with this stranger.
Perhaps he would call upon her and her brother––or perhaps not. He did not want to test his theory that even here, in the country, he might not be welcomed by the members of polite Society close by. From past experience, William knew people believed nonsense and rumors. When he’d uttered his name to Lady Amelia, he’d seen the recognition in her eyes––and the pain of that unsettled him. Did she know and believe the gossip?
After she disappeared, he’d shrugged and grabbed his horse’s reins to walk back home. It did not matter what she believed. He would likely never find out. He would probably never see her again.