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

The Dowager Countess of Ramsbury had been clear in her intentions for Isaac. She had grown tired of watching him waste his time. She wanted him to marry.

But Isaac Robins, The Earl of Ramsbury, wasn’t wasting his time. He was simply enjoying it. There was so much to enjoy, especially before all the obligations and hardships of marriage. Isaac had enjoyed many years with many different women. However, his grandmother was right, unfortunately. He was twenty-nine years old, and if he planned on producing an heir and having children of his own, then it might very well be the right time to start.

Almost.

He didn’t like ending things unceremoniously. The London Season would start in just a few short weeks, and before his time to look for a wife began, he would steal a few evenings with one more beautiful woman. Just one more, and then he would surrender to duty.

As he approached the main entrance of the Terrell Estate, he passed by groups loitering outside, mostly men, talking business or ignoring their wives. The thought that one day he might be reduced to the same avoidant and unfulfilled lifestyle was troubling. He had always known that, eventually, he would have to make a choice between his own enjoyment and his family. He didn’t have the luxury of being selfish forever.

The Duke of Radford had a beautiful estate. It was the height of luxury, perhaps more like a castle than most noble homes. It had been in his family for generations. Isaac was very familiar with Colin Weston’s family. He had known them for many years.

The Duke of Radford stood in the foyer welcoming the attendees of the auction. When he spotted Isaac, his eyes narrowed slightly. Colin was not so much a friend, as he was silently judgmental of everything he did, or at least, that was how it felt. Some of his rougher edges had softened a bit once he’d married Emma.

There was one very good reason that the Duke was so unsure of Isaac. He considered him a terrible influence on Adam Weston, his younger brother.

“Lord Ramsbury.” He nodded, taking Isaac’s hand in a powerful handshake. “I am glad you were able to make it.”

“I would not dare miss it, Your Grace.” Isaac smiled. “Will I find your brother amongst the party guests?”

The Duke looked over Isaac’s shoulder, a cursory glance that yielded no results. “It seems at every event, one of you is away from the watchful eyes of attendees.” He dropped his voice. “Do not dream of causing a scandal tonight. This event is of the utmost importance to my wife.”

The Duke was a stern-looking man with sharp features. His eyes were hazel, and his hair was dark and fluffy. Isaac, however, had always looked friendly, perhaps because he’d often sported a smile on his face. His most noticeable feature was his dark, strong eyebrows that made his eyes that much more piercing.

Isaac grinned sheepishly. “Has your brother agreed to these terms and conditions?”

The Duke scowled. “My wife got to him before I could. I am certain she made her rules very clear. She can be much more assertive than me when she wants to be.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Isaac said. “I believe I can control myself for one evening.”

The Duke nodded and with a small flourish of his hand directed Isaac past the staircase and into the gallery. Inside that room, the Duke housed his favorite pieces of artwork. There were mournful statues, wistful paintings of the countryside, and his favorite—a painting of his younger sister’s very dog, Lemondrop.

Isaac made his way into the gallery, turning his head as he locked eyes with a beautiful lady. Judging by the hungry look in her eyes, he could only assume that she’d heard the rumors about him. He was a rake, and for as many well-behaved women that stayed away, he also attracted a lot of attention from the ladies who didn’t mind taking a risk. He had been known to make it worth it, after all.

It was very rare, however, that he found a lover in the finer milieu. The risk of damaging a woman’s reputation was often too great. And he wasn’t so consumed in his own pleasure that he forgot about the humanity of others.

The lady was elegant with blonde hair and a light blue dress. He looked absently beside her at another woman. She was petite and short. Just when he turned his head to see where he was going, he found himself doing a double take. She was different. Judging by the grumpy look on her face, she probably wasn’t halfway impressed by the events of the evening. She was gorgeous, but he would never dare approach a woman who seemed so unreceptive.

Isaac’s eyes widened, and he stumbled as a bitter iciness bit at his chest. He turned back, putting out his hands as if he could do anything to stop the rest of the water pitcher from spilling onto him. The water soaked through, and everything else fell to the floor. The waiter’s mouth was pulled back in a horrified expression as he clutched the empty pitcher. He reached up slowly and grabbed the towel on his shoulder.

Shamefaced, Isaac offered a weak smile and accepted the towel. “My apologies,” he said. “I was not looking where I was going.”

He dabbed at his coat, pulling up some of the water from the fabric. He then smiled and dropped back down to the floor to soak up the puddle before the waiter took over. Standing back up, Isaac took a look over his shoulder, but the woman who had made a fool of him had already disappeared.

Feeling a little wetter, and his pride having taken a beating, Isaac walked into the gallery. The room was milling with attendees, each dressed impossibly well in lavish jewelry and colorful dresses. There was a large table at the back of the gallery with beverages and dainty appetizers.

Across the room, he spotted Adam looking dubiously into his champagne flute.

Adam was much different from his older brother. His features were soft and rounded, and his cheeks always looked a little sunburnt. He had grown a lot in the past years. Now, he was the owner of the very successful Weston Downs, in which Isaac had invested. While Adam was a lot more responsible in his professional endeavors, he was just as poorly behaved as Isaac when it came to women.

“Is there a problem with your champagne?” Isaac asked.

Adam looked up, frowning. “It tastes of… strawberries.”

“Might have to do with the strawberry floating in the bottom there,” Isaac said, pointing at the bottom of his friend’s glass.

“Most likely.” Adam sighed, looking at him. His gaze focused on the Earl’s damp clothes, and he grimaced. “Went for a swim, didn’t you?”

Issac ignored him. “I will take that off your hands.” He stole the glass and wet his lips. The champagne bubbled on the tip of his tongue and warmed his chest slightly.

“I hate strawberries,” Adam said. “Such regrettable fruits.”

Just then, the room fell silent. At the far end of the gallery was a grand staircase that led up to a catwalk that displayed more artwork. On the landing, the Duchess of Radford stood in a sleek and elegant lavender-colored dress. She smiled as she waited for everyone’s attention.

“Thank you so much to everyone who has joined us here tonight for our first charity event. Tonight, all the proceeds will go toward bettering women’s educations so that the next generation of women may be even more prosperous mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, and friends. Allow me to pass the floor over to Mr. Parson.”

A heavyset man smiled as he came to the top of the staircase, swapping spaces with the Duchess. He cleared his throat. “Tonight, we will begin our auction with this beautiful watercolor original, painted by…”

Adam yawned lightly and leaned into Isaac’s ear. “Can you imagine? Colin would be so angry if I bought that and it ended up back here with all the others. I’m tempted to do it just to irritate him.”

Isaac laughed softly.

The auction kicked off, with bidders throwing up their paddles in an effort to win a painting that Isaac wasn’t even certain was attractive. It was a country scene, but the colors were dull. It wasn’t entirely clear to him why everyone was bidding. Did they really like it, or did they only want it because a duke owned it?

“I heard Her Grace had a word with you,” Isaac murmured.

Adam shrugged. “She is harmless. You know her. I have always known her bark to be worse than her bite. If it puts my brother in his place, then I suppose that is good enough for me,” he said. “Besides, I had no intentions of misbehaving tonight. Not with this company.”

Isaac deflated and looked around. It wasn’t the regular event filled with countless debutantes and beautiful women. The guest list had been filled with many of the wealthiest friends and acquaintances that the Duke and Duchess of Radford had. With that said, Isaac was still thinking about that beautiful dark-haired woman that had caught his attention long enough for him to humiliate himself.

“No, certainly not,” he muttered. “But the Season starts in just a few weeks, so I am sure the next event will be more to your liking.”

“To my liking?” Adam asked, laughing. “You make it sound as if you do not have plans to make the most of it.”

Isaac shook his head. “I will be looking for my countess this season.” He exhaled. The words sounded even more depressing and real coming from his mouth.

“Giving up already, Ramsbury?” Adam asked, staring vacantly at the staircase landing when the auctioneer was announcing the new owner of the painting.

Swiftly, the auctioneer moved on to another auction item, something to do with new ballgowns from London’s most fashionable modiste. Isaac certainly hadn’t the need for a ballgown, but the auction was popular among the fathers of some of the plainest wallflowers.

“Not giving up.” Isaac shook his head. “I have a few weeks until the Season starts.”

“I see.” Adam smirked. “I have two tickets to the theater on Saturday evening. That might be exactly what you need.”

“I would love to join.” A trip to the theater would be perfect. There was no better place to meet an actress or a singer, someone to take Isaac’s mind off of duty for a few weeks. “After all, I cannot leave you without a companion on such short notice.”

“I imagine your mother is thrilled,” Adam said.

Isaac’s jaw tightened. Knowing Adam, it was a wholly innocent comment, but anytime Isaac heard mention of his mother, he still felt like the tip of a sword had been pressed against his chest. It was the feeling of imminent danger. Just the smallest movement would send him back to the same painful place he was trying to get away from.

In an effort to change the subject, Isaac fixed his gaze on the staircase landing. “Look,” he muttered.

“Oh, that is my contribution,” Adam said proudly, fixing his necktie. The auctioneer announced the auction item: trackside seats at Weston Downs for the remainder of the Season, a coveted prize, indeed.

“How tempting,” Isaac said.

“Bid on it.”

Isaac shook his head. “I am waiting for something more tempting.”

Adam looked slightly annoyed. He turned his head, before his shoulders straightened, and he lifted a hand to wave. Isaac followed Adam’s gaze and, immediately, he felt his mouth dry. He raked his tongue across the roof of his mouth and admired her.

The memory of how distracted she had made him was as lingering as the feeling of the icy clothes that clung to his body. She couldn’t be much older than twenty-four, and yet still too old not to have a suitor on her arm. She was short and thin, with smooth black hair that was fixed on the top of her head and a ringlet of curls that cascaded over her shoulder.

She looked disinterested, perhaps standoffish, and not impressed at all to see Adam. She crossed her arms, standing beside a giant vase of white flowers. Her body was as perfect as a stone column, her dress white and satiny, with an iridescent luster as it captured the light.

Isaac couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a woman who had given him pause. If ever he found a woman attractive, he was immediately drawn to her, trying to find out how quickly he could put his hands on her body and get her into his bed. This lady was different, somehow. She looked like she had something to say but was biting her tongue until the very last minute. If anything, she seemed like the kind of woman who would rather watch the fire burn than run away from it. Dangerous, indeed, but fascinating, nonetheless. He wanted her, but he wanted to take his time with her. Three weeks wasn’t nearly long enough.

“That is Miss Lucy Hale, the Duchess’s sister.” Adam smiled. “She pretends to dislike me.”

“I can see why,” Isaac said.

Just then, Lucy turned her head and fixed her eyes on Isaac. For a moment, her facial expression changed, but she corrected it before Isaac even had a moment to determine what it meant. She hadn’t looked like a woman that might falter or misstep. While she did seem observant, she looked far too proper to even understand what the look on his face meant. He wanted her, but did she even know how he wanted her? Did she even realize the things he could make her feel?

Adam waved his hand, beckoning her over. She looked back at him and appeared to sigh just a little. As she crossed the room, Isaac found himself in a trance. The noise dulled, the lights dimmed, and it was just her, and the temperature rising in his chest.

She approached Adam, glancing briefly at Isaac and the dark water stain on his coat before turning away. “Where is your sister?”

Adam shrugged. “Thought you might want to talk to me.”

Lucy shook her head slightly, but the smallest hint of a smile graced her lips at the same time.

“Allow me to introduce you to Isaac Robins, the Earl of Ramsbury,” Adam began and turned toward his friend. “And this is Miss Lucy Hale, the sister of the Duchess.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows slightly and tentatively curtsied at Isaac. He didn’t miss the way her eyes drifted down his body for just a moment. Had she seen something she liked, or was she just amused by how wet he was? She seemed so stone-faced, it was hard to tell.

“Might I blame my current appearance on you?” Isaac teased.

Her eyebrows narrowed with thoughtfulness. “Are you not just clumsy?”

“Her Grace calls Miss Lucy the unattainable spinster,” Adam said.

Isaac had already made a fool of himself if she wasn’t already interested in him. He couldn’t help his half-moon eyes or the way his entire body was angled toward her as if she had snagged him in her orbit.

“And why would she call you that?” he asked.

Lucy’s cheeks turned pink. Isaac felt a thorned warmth when he briefly imagined how it might feel if his own words, or better, his own touch made her cheeks color for him.

She looked angrily at Adam. “Why does everyone insist on calling me that?” She crossed her arms. “Unattainable, as if I am hounded by proposals. I am uninterested in marriage, and therefore, suitors should be uninterested in me. My value should not increase just because I am resistant. Does that not feel predatory?”

Adam put a hand to his mouth as he mulled it over. “Oh my, I am sorry, Miss Lucy, I never thought of it like that.”

Isaac glanced over at Adam. For all his faults and how intelligent he could be, the man had a big heart and an open mind.

Isaac cleared his throat. “Marriage is not the right fit for everyone,” he said. “I was never a fan of predestination. Sounds suffocating, does it not?”

Lucy did a double take at him. “Are you…” She took a breath and narrowed her eyes inquisitively. “Are you a student of philosophy?”

Isaac shrugged lightly. It felt easier to downplay his achievements. He didn’t always like to be the center of attention. “I studied in college.” He glanced around the room, reminding himself of the current landscape of his life.

Predestination was suffocating, but if God wasn’t the one enforcing it, then someone had to be. He had been born an heir. Even before he had arrived on this earth, there was some expectation that he would be an earl, manage his land, captain business, marry, and produce an heir. And whether he liked it or not, his own existence had already predetermined the fate of his first-born son.

“Can predestination even exist in tandem with free will?”

She smiled lightly. “I hope so. If I am to fail, then I at least want to be held responsible.”

He couldn’t help but suck in a breath. If given the chance to predict her response, he would have never assumed she might say that. What did that say about her, after all? Not many people wanted to be held accountable for their own shortcomings. He could only determine her to be fiercely independent. She was cut from the same cloth as her older sister, that was certain.

“Then I should look forward to seeing how you exercise your free will this season,” he said.

What did a lady who wasn’t marriage-minded do to waste an entire season? He was tempted to help.

Her eyes flickered, and for a moment, he thought she might be impressed, but within another breath, she was completely indifferent toward him.

“The Earl of Ramsbury,” she repeated as if she knew exactly who he was.

If so, then surely she knew the rumors, but it didn’t seem to have an effect on her. Women who knew usually reacted in one of two ways. They either avoided him out of fear or attempted to be his next distraction. Lucy, however, seemed indifferent and curious all at the same time.

“You are familiar with my name?”

Lucy paused, looking briefly up at the stage. She shrugged coolly. “Who isn’t?”

Isaac scoffed, “Then I am pleased to know you have heard of my generosity.”

“Ramsbury.” Adam huffed, elbowing his friend.

Isaac looked at him, immediately trying to collect himself. Adam was right. The Earl certainly couldn’t corrupt a young unmarried woman. His past rendezvous had been focused on widows, performers, and working women. As often as debutantes had intrigued him before, he knew that even so much as a kiss could jeopardize their entire future.

But if Lucy really had no plans to marry, then perhaps his attention would be of benefit to her. She must be curious. Isaac could not imagine going an entire lifetime without knowing the kind of fire a man and a woman could set together.

Lucy grinned, the tilt of her plump pink lips a challenge. “Well, if you are so generous, then I imagine you have won several auction items already. This auction is for a good cause. And, as a student of philosophy, I imagine supporting equal opportunities for education must be of great importance to you.”

“I—” Isaac paused. “I have yet to place a bid, but only because I am waiting for precisely the right auction item.”

“Of course, My Lord. Choose wisely.” Lucy smiled, tight-lipped, and curtsied shallowly. Without another word, she walked away, the elegant curls of her hair bouncing down her shoulders.

His breath caught, constricting his throat. He hadn’t wanted a woman that badly in so long. His desire for her had grown even more after she had spoken to him. She was challenging, articulate and, most of all, different than the women he’d been with in the past. She didn’t want or expect anything from him, with the exception of a donation for education.

“Ramsbury, collect yourself.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Miss Lucy would never pay you any attention so long as you live. The only men she has paid any mind to are dead poets and philosophers. I know her very well.”

Isaac turned to look at his friend. Adam had spent a lot of time around her, and even Isaac couldn’t believe that he felt the smallest twinge of jealousy.

“And you have never even so much as thought…”

“No.” Adam shook his head. “Never considered it. If she did not have my head for an unwanted advance, then Her Grace certainly would. These are not your everyday women, Isaac. The Hale sisters are… strong-willed and indignant.”

Isaac couldn’t help but feel relieved. Although Adam wasn’t trying to give him any more reason to pursue her, he unfortunately did. Isaac had always had an interest in intelligent and fierce women. He would have to get her attention somehow, and maybe, if she really wished to avoid marriage, then maybe they both had something to gain from time spent together.