Page 6 of Defying the Earl
Or perhaps he was too preoccupied with his own affairs to give much thought to his dear aunts. From her past experience of him, she wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.
It wouldn’t be her obligation to worry about them, though, Bea assured herself even as she finally handed the Ladies up into their carriage that night. She did enough worrying over them while she was in her position. She needn’t carry that with her forever.
Chapter Four
Abet with Robertson and Douglas! What had he been thinking?
Nate shook his head as he strolled away from the large home where that evening’s entertainments had been held. It was unfashionable to walk, but he didn’t care. While it wasn’t the safest situation to put himself in, it was far more fulfilling than sitting in a carriage in unmoving traffic. And with the crush of vehicles filling the street at the end of a night like this, Nathan didn’t really have any reason to fear for his safety. While pickpockets likely abounded, they would be focusing on crowds of people, especially distracted ladies, not a very alert, single gentleman such as himself.
Not to say he wouldn’t welcome a skirmish. In his current state of mind, it would probably be diverting for him to take some of his frustrations out on some ruffians. But that was likely an inappropriate thought for the Earl of Braxton, Nate thought with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. He needed to get himself into an earl-like frame of mind.
How was one to do that?
He didn’t think his thought processes had been faulty prior to inheriting the title. His sense of duty might have been broader, encompassing the entire realm rather than just his own personalslice of it, but surely that couldn’t be a bad thing. It could be argued that as an earl, his duty to the Crown was even greater than it had been as a mere younger son, even though being the younger son had allowed him to be engaged as an active field agent for the same Crown.
Now his work for King and Country would be more evident and open and much more subject to scrutiny, he supposed, but did that really make it any less valuable than the work of an agent for the Home Office?
Such was the argument that never ceased to circulate in his head. Just because his role had changed, didn’t necessarily devalue it. If only Nathan Lawrence could believe that of Lord Braxton. Never mind that those two men were now one and the same.
Nate sighed and tried to refocus his attention. Just because he was large and armed didn’t mean cutthroats wouldn’t accost him if he wasn’t paying attention. There was nothing so attractive to a criminal as an inattentive nobleman, Nate was sure.
But the streets were full of light and activity despite the hour being well advanced. Mayfair was swarming with servants, carriages, and well-dressed gentle folk in the wee hours of the morning as they all returned from their various amusements. He was as safe as could be expected, even if he couldn’t quite corral his thoughts that night.
It was seeing Bea that had messed with his head; he was sure of it. The lady had barely changed. Or if anything, she was even more beautiful than she had been when he’d last seen her, despite the two years or more that had passed. And she appeared to be even more intelligent than she had been. He didn’t know how that could be possible, but the gaze that had met his briefly had been brimming with wisdom and anger. It had been anintoxicating combination. It was too bad she was unlikely to ever forgive him.
Not that he could wed a penniless, unattached woman now that he was Braxton. But if he could, she would be his first choice. Not that he was likely to be her first choice. Although, the fact that she was still unwed told him she might be amenable to his suit if he could ever convince her to forgive him.
Not that she would. And not that he ought to even be entertaining the thought. He still needed to straighten out the estate and finalize his last few assignments, making sure they were handed over to competent agents who could bring them to conclusion now that he was no longer free to be active in the field.
If only he enjoyed drowning his sorrows in drink. That would be a luxury at the moment. But he had never been that sort. An agent needed to always keep his wits. Even one who was being forced out of the field. Nate couldn’t see himself ever being comfortable as a gentleman of leisure even if his father and brother had enjoyed such a lifestyle. From what Nathan had been able to discern from the estate records thus far, they had done nothing to expand or grow since Nathan’s father had taken over from his own father years ago. Braxton was fortunate that the earls previous to Nate’s father had all been diligent caretakers or Nate and his mother wouldn’t have a feather to fly with at this point. It was ironic that Douglas had said Braxton’s estate was known to be lucrative, as that was not as much the case anymore. Not as it had been in times past. Nathan was determined to return it to its former glory, but that would surely take time.
However, Nate was confident he would be able to bring things around. He was actually looking forward to the challenge ofdoing so. But there were certain aspects of life as Lord Braxton he didn’t enjoy in the least.
It had been a relief to be well away from Society for the past two years. Having Robertson and Douglas latch themselves inexplicably to his side was making him reconsider the wisdom of taking an active role in Parliament. While it was his obligation to take an interest since he had a Seat, he could send a proxy if he so wished. Or even just show up from time to time as some of the other Lords of the House did. But that was not in Nathan’s makeup.
He was here. He would have to make the most of it. But he was not going to allow those dolts to bandy about Lady Beatrice’s name with their bets and mockery.
Should he tell her what had transpired? It would surely make her hate him even more than she already did, so his inclination was to keep her in the dark. But if she were to find out, there was every possibility her natural reticence would be overpowered by her completely justified anger, and she might make a scene at some gathering or other.
Not that he could truly envision Lady Beatrice making a scene, even though he was well aware that she had a temper. But it was usually of the cold fire type, not the sort that would result in a blow up of temper in front of witnesses.
There was a first time for everything though.
Nathan sighed. He would have to call on his aunts as soon as possible.
Finally, he reached the front steps of Braxton House and heaved another sigh. His family had used the large London establishment in Town for generations. Nathan couldn’t have told you if the sigh was one of relief or disappointment that he hadn’t been accosted. His feelings were so convoluted at thatpoint that he might have welcomed the opportunity to release some of them with a very physical altercation rather than the more subtle dances of argument he was subjected to in House politics.
Considering the lack of cleanliness on the streets of London, though, while he had quite a high opinion of his own abilities, if he were to be overcome on the street, there was a very real likelihood of becoming gravely sick from the filth rather than the fight itself, so he truly ought to land on the side of relief for having safely reached home.
But was this really his home? It certainly didn’t feel like it.
Nathan gave his head a shake as he climbed the stairs barely noticing his ornate surroundings, as he had grown up with such opulence. He was truly a melancholy mess these days. What had been the root cause? Was it stepping into his father’s shoes literally and figuratively as he dressed for an appearance at Court? Or was it his formal request for leave from his duties to the Home Office? Or was it just this evening, his encounter with Lady Beatrice?
Most likely a combination of those things.
It troubled Nathan that he had felt more settled and rooted in a rough shack in the untamed wilderness of Upper Canada than he did in the house he had spent time in frequently since his childhood. He wondered what that said about him or his history. Or perhaps it was just that being here reminded him so clearly that he was not living the life he had intended.
As the younger son, he’d never entertained the thought of inheriting the title. He had been perfectly happy as Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Lawrence had so many freedoms no longer afforded to Lord Braxton. Of course, Braxton had far more luxuries than Mr. Lawrence could have ever laid claim to, butthose were not the sorts of things that appealed greatly to Nathan, so it was a sad reality that he felt as though he had gotten the short end of the stick with this great change of his life.
