A Spinster for the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 3)

“Two hundred pounds,” Issac said, lining up his shot. He squinted, took aim, and hit the ball with the cue. The table rattled as one of the balls fell into the pockets.

The Duke of Radford shook his head. “We need at least three hundred.”

“Three hundred and fifty, if you want to scale the bets. With some higher stake races, we could stand to make triple what we currently make now,” Adam said, then took his shot.

Adam was a curious man. He often came across as being foolish and immature, but when matters turned to his racetrack, he was the most focused one in the room. He had taken a business that was failing under the previous ownership and transformed it into a profitable diversion for all the deepest pockets in London.

Isaac had been considering making an investment for some time, and with warmer days approaching, the timing was perfect. With his investment, the three men were planning to add another track and the necessary staff to accommodate more bets.

With another hit, all the balls had sunk, and the Duke was marked as the winner.

Isaac offered his hand to Adam. “We have a deal,” he said.

Adam locked him into a tight handshake, looking excitedly at his older brother. “Can you imagine?” He grinned. “By July, we can have the entire expansion done!”

The Duke glanced at Isaac. Although his brow was furrowed, there was a softness in his eyes. He liked to pretend he was serious and unfeeling, but Isaac had felt regarded like a brother. The Duke had a habit of giving those he loved a hard time. Around people that he didn’t know very well or didn’t regard as highly, he wore a charming mask.

“If you will both excuse me,” Colin said. “I will be in my office. I have a partial contract drawn up, but I have a few changes to make. Perhaps we can reconvene in an hour and we can come to a final agreement. Does that sound fair?”

Isaac sighed contentedly and fell back onto the couch. “Absolutely.” Adam sat in the seat opposite him.

As the Duke stepped out of the room, Adam picked up his half-smoked cigar off the table and twirled it in his fingers like a baton. “As much as I appreciate your company, your courtesy is frightening me.”

Isaac frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I appreciate it, do not get me wrong,” Adam began. “But we give each other such a hard time that when you’re this pleasant, I worry that you want something from me.”

Isaac scrunched his face. “I would never invest that much money just to be nice. I really do believe in—”

“Not the investment.” Adam laughed. He took a puff of his cigar. “I just thought that considering Miss Lucy Hale is outside with Her Grace, you would be—”

“She is here?”

Adam tapped his cigar on the ashtray. “I thought that was why you stopped by on such short notice,” he said. “Her Grace invited her sisters for tea this afternoon in the conservatory.”

Isaac smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest. He still couldn’t figure out why Lucy made him so nervous. He had never been that attracted to someone before, and surely it didn’t hurt that he enjoyed conversing with her too. As much as he enjoyed time spent with Adam, or any of their other friends, they weren’t exactly great at having intellectual conversations.

“I had no idea.”

“Has she changed her mind for you?” Adam asked.

“No.” Isaac shook his head. “Nor am I trying to change her mind. We’re friends.”

“Friends?” Adam repeated, his face souring. “If you get that moony-eyed for all of your friends, we may need to go our separate ways.”

Isaac shook his head. “She’s beautiful, sure, but she is not looking for a proposal, nor am I offering one.”

Adam rolled his eyes. He swept his hand up, gesturing toward the archway that led into the hallway. “Well?”

Isaac scoffed at his friend. They both valued each other, but they had long agreed that women, in fact, always came first. He dusted off his coat and took a deep breath. As Adam puffed thoughtfully on his cigar, Isaac left the room.

The Earl might have been inclined to believe in fate, seeing as he and Lucy had recently shared a long conversation about art, and the conservatory was just off the gallery. He had been looking forward to seeing this painting that she had told him about anyway.

He stepped into the conservatory, his footsteps echoing off the tall ceilings. At the far end of the room, under the staircase landing, was a set of French doors that led out to a conservatory room furnished with a dining set and plenty of lush green plants. He felt his heart thud against his chest when he spotted her. She noticed him too, through the glass.

Lucy didn’t look half as surprised as he’d expected her to be. Her sisters, Emma and Harriet, were deep in conversation. She said something to them before rising from her chair. Isaac watched her come into the gallery. She left the door open so they weren’t improperly alone.

While she crossed the room, he sat down on a viewing bench and looked up at the painting of Icarus. The figure was plummeting through the sky while golden light haloed him. She was right, it was somehow triumphant and tragic all at once. It was so human to crave the beauty of our own downfall.

Is it vanity to chase the things that were only designed to hurt us?

“Do you like it?” she asked, sitting beside him.

“The colors are interesting,” Isaac said. He had never cared much to interpret art before, but after she had compared it to philosophy, he was looking at it with new eyes.

“The cold grey sky and harsh blue waters make you feel so melancholy, so apprehensive.” She slid closer to him. “It’s so visceral. I can almost feel how cold the water is.”

“And that’s such a contrast to the sun,” he noted. “It’s all gold leaf. The tragedy of falling is his greatest success.”

Lucy was quiet for a moment, her eyes fixed on the painting, when all he wanted to do was look at her. “Do you think so?” she finally asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Or do you think we only see what we want to see? I like to at least believe that all of the things I have convinced myself of are true, even if they are killing me. I’d rather be remembered as a tragedy than second guess myself.”

Isaac opened his mouth, but the response caught in his throat. He took a minute to reconsider her words. They were heavy, hiding an unpleasant truth that he feared for himself.

“What convictions are you second guessing?” he asked.

“None,” she replied. “No yet. I hope I never do because admitting you are wrong is sometimes more painful than just agreeing to be unhappy.”

“You can talk to me,” he said quietly.

Lucy contemplated his words before turning back to look at her sisters as they laughed hysterically about a joke that only they knew. Although within eyesight, neither group could hear one another.

She sighed. “My sisters are so certain that I will get married just like them. And I am sure everyone thinks my greatest fear is falling in love, but in earnest, my greatest fear is being wrong and having to admit it.”

“Well.” Isaac took a deep breath, surprised at how heavy her confession was. “With company like Lord Langley and Lord Clifton, I think the probability of you being swept off your feet is extraordinarily low.”

She laughed into her palm. “You are right, I am not exactly at risk.”

Isaac was glad about that. He had never thought of himself as possessive, but the thought of Lucy with anyone else made him upset. Maybe if she found someone who really deserved her, he would come around to it. But Lucy was too smart, too beautiful, and too ambitious for almost anyone.

The thought had crossed Isaac’s mind that if he had to marry someone, maybe he and Lucy could have been happy enough. He, however, respected her dreams of being someone else. She had so many goals and dreams, and none of those were to marry. In another life, he wished he could do the same. Besides, maybe he’d form a romantic connection with someone else this season.

He cleared his throat and prepared to change the subject. He wasn’t going to waste his time with Lucy thinking about the future or the things that hurt him. Their time together was meant to be an escape.

“Lucy!” Harriet called out. She hurried across the gallery, her skirts hiked up around her ankles so she wouldn’t trip. “I hear a carriage! I think Rose just got back from her promenade with Lord Hartley.”

Lucy sighed and stood up. She looked back between the painting and Isaac. “I will see you on Saturday?”

He nodded, having almost forgotten about the next ball. “Of course.” He smiled.

She beamed, hesitating to look at him before she ran after her older sister. Together, she and Harriet exited the gallery.

Isaac felt his breath rattle at the top of his chest. It was probably all frustration on his end. They had met up so many times but had only been able to share one kiss. He was looking forward to the next time he got to see her, away from all the watchful eyes of Society.

He turned at the sound of footsteps clicking across the marble floor.

The Duchess of Radford approached him, but her features didn’t give away her intentions. For as long as he’d known her, she had always had a simple way of obscuring her emotions if she needed to. In her arms, she held Lemondrop, a nervous, fidgety, very old Italian Greyhound.

“Lord Ramsbury,” she said.

He bowed. “Your Grace.” She was so poised and collected that he found himself stumbling on his next thought for a moment. “Beautiful gallery. I could sit here all day.”

“I am glad,” she said, her voice gentle yet demanding. She paused to look at Lemondrop as he yawned, completely unfurling his tongue in the process. “I am just curious how your promenades have been?”

“Oh.” He sat up straighter, already feeling like she was looking for fault in him.

Emma wasn’t mean or cruel, but he had long thought that she and the Duke of Radford were perfect—likable, put-together, charming, and successful. If anyone might see how disastrous his life seemed, it might be her.

“Miss Lucy is a wonderful companion. I have enjoyed our promenades together.”

She nodded, smiling lightly. “Miss Lucy is wonderful.” She paused, looking up at the painting of Icarus on the wall. “May I ask you something?”

Isaac waited for her question, his hands growing restless. He hadn’t liked all the questions people had for him regarding Lucy. Everyone wanted to know why he was wasting his time on a spinster, as if they didn’t think that there was any genuine reason why he might be spending so much time with her. At first, it was only supposed to be an arrangement, but now he craved all their conversations and promenades just as much. She had become a good friend of his.

“Why did you bid on the promenades?”

Isaac paused, raking his tongue across the dry roof of his mouth. “I do not know a lot of people who wish to meet me at the same level as your sister. She asked me to make a donation, and I thought what better way than to save her from five promenades with Lord Langley.”

“What is so wrong with Lord Langley?” Emma asked. “He actually wishes to marry. Despite your quarrels with him, he has enough money and influence to provide her with a good life.”

“A good life,” Isaac repeated, biting his tongue.

He was not about to argue with the Duchess about what makes a life worth living. Lucy would have disagreed that any life that that man could offer could be satisfactory.

He squared his jaw. “What makes you certain I cannot give her a good life?”

Emma paused, stepping back slightly before digging her feet back into the ground, elegant yet determined to stand her ground. She set the dog down on the bend. The small creature sat there, posture squared, and stared at Isaac as if he too was surprised by the question. Even the dog knew the Earl was a rake.

“Do you want to?”

“I want your sister to do what makes her happy,” Isaac replied.

“I am not proud that I put my sister’s time up for auction,” Emma admitted. “But I feel like the only one in my family who has any hope for Lucy’s future. Everyone has given up on the hope that she might find someone. I know that she can do everything she wants. There must be a man who can give her freedom and happiness, and intellectual conversations, and love. She wants all of those things, even if she’s afraid to admit it.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “And I know how wonderful she is, but she doesn’t often let others close enough to see it. I thought five promenades would allow her to let her guard down long enough to let someone in.”

Isaac’s throat bobbed. He might have admitted that he knew exactly how wonderful Lucy was if the admission didn’t confuse him. Lucy was a great friend, but Emma wanted her to find a love match. He didn’t know if he fully understood what love was or felt like, but he wasn’t ready to even speculate whether the fluttering and the pangs in his chest were related.

The idea that any other man might come along and make Lucy his wife made him feel anxious, like he was watching the final grains slip through the hourglass.

“Do you think she looks happy with me?”

Emma finally closed her mouth, as if she no longer had a response ready. She looked out of the corner of her eyes. “That depends entirely on whether you intend to ever give her what she wants.”

Isaac was growing antsy at the way Lemondrop had joined in so effortlessly in the intimidation game. The Duchess of Radford was a kind, welcoming woman, but the one thing she had always known was that she was willing to go to war for her family. Even Adam was under her constant care. She was protective in the same way that a mother bear watched over her cubs.

“I am sorry,” she whispered, placing a hand on her forehead. “I just want Lucy to be happy.”

“I understand, Your Grace.” He bowed. “I want her to be happy too.”

Just then, the grandfather clock echoed throughout the house, and Lemondrop’s ears perked up. The dog hopped off the ottoman, licking his snout in preparation for his upcoming meal. He stretched out, sticking his behind in the air, his front paws reaching out as far as he could.

Emma curtsied. “I have to meet with the governess and check in with August’s and Lottie’s studies for the day.”

Isaac bowed again and let her leave the room first, with Lemondrop trotting at her heels. He would have to go meet up with the Duke and Adam soon to look over the contract, but all he wanted to do was figure out why his head felt so loud.

He took a seat on the ottoman. He didn’t want to disappoint the Duchess, and she certainly wouldn’t like it if she found out that he was intent on courting another woman this season.

Lucy had already made her boundaries clear. She refused to marry. Whether Isaac liked it or not, he would eventually need to look for a woman who did wish to marry.