Page 22 of How to Tempt an Earl

Grace wanted to help the lady. If tutoring Ian to return to his proper place in Society would ease Lady Castleton’s grief, as well as help his sisters find their own places in that world, then Grace began to see her task as more meaningful than she had realized.

“I’m certain he will, my lady,” Grace said.

Lady Castleton sighed. “Thank you, but I’m afraid not much is certain when it comes to him.”

Chapter Seven

Ian climbed the steps of the Berkley Square home and lifted the brass knocker. The door opened and a butler with a battlefield of wrinkles glared down at him.

“The countess is not at home.”

Ardmore had worked for Ian’s father, and even though the old earl had passed, it was clear the servant’s dislike of Ian hadn’t changed. The man’s hawkish face never seemed to have known a smile.

“Summon my sisters, then,” Ian said, pushing the door open wide and stepping inside the vestibule. Ian stripped off his great coat and thrust it at the butler. “I’ll wait in the parlor.”

The only sign of distress on Ardmore’s face was a pinch between his craggy eyebrows. Ian didn’t care. He’d refused long ago to be intimidated by his father’s pompous staff. If Ardmore had any sense, he’d acknowledge that Ian was now the earl and to tread carefully if he wished to retain his position.

Ian strode into the drawing room. The decor had changed little since he was a child. Striped silk drapes, a rich Oriental carpet, and Egyptian-inspired settees.

A memory returned from the black stillness of his mind. Ian had arrived to see his brother. “He isn’t here.” The earl had appeared in the drawing room doorway. “You should leave. I don’t want you corrupting my son and heir with your filthy ways from that club of yours.”

Son. Heir. Filth.

Ian had wanted so badly to respond in kind, but that would show he cared. He remained impassive instead. “Your hypocrisy astounds me, Father. I understand you wagered and lost ten thousand pounds at White’s last month.”

“How did you…” The earl nearly choked on his words. A vein bulged at his temple like an angry snake. “Get out! I never want to see your shadow darken my home again.”

“Gladly.”

Ian had stormed from the parlor and had nearly collided with his mother. Her face pale, her hands had twisted before her. She’d opened her mouth, then shut it. She hadn’t said a word in his defense as he’d collected his belongings from Ardmore and left.

The sounds of running footsteps echoed off the marble vestibule and snapped Ian from his troubled musings. The parlor door opened and two girls ran inside with a swirl of skirts and laughter.

“Ian!” Ellie threw herself into his arms.

“We’re so glad you came to visit.” Olivia kissed his cheek.

Ian hugged and kissed both sisters’ cheeks, then set them aside and studied each of them. “Look at the two of you. Ellie, is that a new gown? And Olivia you’ve grown at least an entire inch in height.”

“I’ll be sixteen next month,” Olivia said. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

She had fair hair and green eyes that twinkled with mischief. “Never. But I admit to being flummoxed as to what present you’d like.”

“It’s simple. Take me to Vauxhall Gardens to see the fireworks.”

Ian grinned. “I’d be honored.”

Ellie tugged his hand and led him to the sofa. “Sit with us.” She had red hair, a porcelain complexion, and bright blue eyes. At seventeen, she was close to her debut, and Ian suspected all the young bucks and beaus would swarm around her.

He obliged, and his sisters swiftly occupied cushions beside him on the sofa.

“We haven’t seen you since…since Matthew’s funeral.” At the mention of the tragic day, Ellie’s voice wavered.

“I keep thinking he will walk through the door,” Olivia said.

Ian’s gut knotted.

“When we learned you were here, our spirits lifted. You must visit us more often,” Ellie said.