Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

squirming, hairy handful. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

      Laura accepted the small creature, which mewed reproachfully at being removed from its cozy basket and regarded her with indignant blue eyes. “Handsome indeed. I’m glad you have some new friends to play with. Soon, your uncle Kit will be well enough to play with you, too. In fact, he’s so much better I’m returning to my own home today. I’ll stop by daily to check him, of course, but—”

      “No!” Lady Catherine wailed. “You cannot leave!”

      Laura deposited the kitten back in its basket and took the little girl’s hands. “I shall not forget my friends.”

      “Catherine,” her mother remonstrated, “Mrs. Martin has a house of her own which she must be missing. She’s been kind enough to stay here to help Uncle Kit, but of course now that he is better she wants to return home.”

      The child patted Laura’s dress and frowned. “If we gave you more dresses, would you stay? Uncle Beau will buy them! He told me he loves buying ladies pretty things.”

      While the girl’s mother tried to explain to her why that would not be proper, Laura briefly wondered how many “pretty ladies” the earl had bought gowns for. A fair number, she imagined. Never her, she vowed.

      Catherine’s blue eyes filled with tears. Clearly unable to comprehend why anyone she’d befriended would wish to leave her, she turned from her mother back to Laura. “But who will take me for my walk? Silly Mary doesn’t know anything. And you tell the bestest stories!”

      Laura bit her lip. For as long as the earl remained in residence, she wished to keep her visits to Everett Hall as brief as possible. But knowing how little there was to occupy a lively child—and recognizing poor Mary really was dull-witted—she couldn’t withstand the appeal on Lady Catherine’s face.

      “I will walk with you every day, after I’ve checked your uncle,” Laura conceded.

      “But you will not stay?” the girl said, her lip still quivering.

      “I’m sorry, poppet. I really cannot.”

      “Catherine, you must not tease.” Lady Elspeth tried to soothe her unhappy daughter. “Miss Laura has already done so much for us. She’s promised to visit you—and me, too. After all—” she smiled at Laura “—we have plans to make.”

      Before Laura could inquire what sort of plans Lady Elspeth had in mind, a quick knock at the door was followed by the entry of the one person Laura had most hoped to avoid—Lord Beaulieu.

      While Lady Catherine threw herself at her uncle, chattering about kittens, Laura retreated to the window seat, disgusted to note her heartbeat accelerating merely because the earl had entered the room. She’d take no part in the conversation, avoid his eye, and make her escape at the earliest possible moment.

      But she’d reckoned without her champion. Laura edged to the door while the earl duly inspected the kittens, but before she could slip out, Lady Catherine pointed at her.

      “Uncle Beau, Miss Laura says she must go home today, and I don’t want her to. Please make her stay!” The little girl gazed up to give her uncle a melting smile. “She’ll stay if you ask her. Everyone does what you wish.”

      The earl’s smiling face sobered abruptly. He looked over at Laura, brows creasing in a frown. “Going home today? You made no mention of it to me.”

      His eyes impaled her, almost—accusing. Laura forced herself to look away, shaking her head to clear a sudden light-headedness. “Mr. Bradsleigh is recovering nicely, so there’s no need for me to remain in residence.”

      “But with Dr. MacDonovan departing, it would be wise to have someone of skill standing by, at least for the first several days. Surely you’ll not abandon your charge now, Mrs. Martin.”

      She couldn’t let him make her weaken. Moistening her lips, she replied, “I’m not abandoning him. Dr. MacDonovan assures me Kit no longer needs care through the night. I shall check him every day and faithfully administer any treatments the doctor believes necessary. But I do have a household of my own that needs tending.”

      “A household which could manage without your presence for a bit longer, I should think.”

      “Perhaps. But I should be more comfortable returning there,” she said pointedly. Damn him! He would have her close to bewitch at his leisure. Well, she’d not allow it.

      His belligerent manner softened suddenly. “I had hoped to offer you every comfort here,” he said quietly.

      She felt the insidious longing invade her again. What could a few more days hurt? She could be strong.

       Liar.

      She shook her head. “I—I appreciate all you have done. But I really must go.”

      “Even should I beg you to stay?”

      She forced herself to resist the intensity of his gaze. “Even then.”

      After a long moment he gave her a stiff nod. “Very well. Go, then.”

      Lady Catherine had been watching the exchange with a smile, evidently entirely certain of her uncle’s powers of persuasion. At that, however, she jumped up. “No, Uncle Beau! You cannot let her go!”

      Lady Catherine ran to Laura and seized her hands. “Please, can you not stay? The kittens will miss you too.”

      Laura knelt down and gave the girl a quick hug. “Friends can still be friends even when they’re not living in the same house. I shall walk with you every day, I promise. And if your mama permits, you can visit me. I have a dog who would love to have you throw sticks for him, and there’s a walk by the river we could explore.”

      The girl looked up at Laura. “A friendly dog?”

      “Very friendly. I’ve also got a big tabby cat and a pond full of frogs.”

      After a moment, Lady Catherine nodded. “I suppose you have to go home. Your dog and cat and frogs must be lonely.”

      Laura rose. Lord Beaulieu stood watching her, arms crossed over his chest, looking angry and—surely it wasn’t hurt she read on his face. She jerked her glance away and walked toward the door.

      “Return to your little household, Mrs. Martin,” the earl said, a bitter edge to his voice. “Your very small household. Given how clever you are with children, ‘tis a great shame your late husband didn’t bless you with any.”

      The pain was instantaneous, automatic, and even after more than two years, devastating. Without thinking she whirled to face him. “How true, my lord,” she snapped. “Especially considering that I buried one.” Dipping a curtsey, she fled the room.

       Chapter Twelve

      The slam of the door echoed in the sudden silence.

      After giving him a speculative look, Ellie walked over to her daughter. “Let me ring for Mary, sweeting. She can help you take your kittens out for some air. Beau, if you would please wait, I’d like to speak with you.”

      While his sister took her daughter away, Beau tried to master his anger and make sense of his disordered thoughts.

      How could Mrs. Martin leave now, when he had so little time left? He understood why the events of last evening might have upset her, but why flee from him, as if he were the perpetrator of that scene? It shocked—and he had to admit, hurt—him that she apparently had so little trust in his honor. When had he ever attempted to push or coerce her into doing something she didn’t desire?

      It hurt, too, that she seemed so willing to give up the little bit of time they had left together—time that had become increasingly precious to him.

      But if Mrs. Martin