Chapter Three

L ord Flynn, Earl of Larsson

The cool night air drifted into the foyer at Smythington House from the open door, where a carriage awaited to take two of my three daughters home. I nodded to the butler before trotting down the stairs to the waiting carriage, my youngest daughter Beatrix in my arms. Her sister Camille trailed behind us.

"Papa, why do I have to leave and Karen gets to stay?" Camille said with a decided pout. At fourteen and the middle child, she wanted to do everything her older sister did.

"Because Karen is sixteen," Beatrix mumbled in a sleepy voice.

I entered the carriage where the girl's nanny was waiting for them before Camille could argue further. The older woman smiled at me as I settled Beatrix on the seat next to her. Gearing myself up for the upcoming argument, I climbed out to meet Camille's obstinate stare.

"She is two years older than me, not ten," she said, tears glistening in her eyes.

I knelt before her petite frame, my love for her never-ending despite her stubborn nature. I wiped the tears away with my finger. "In two years, you can stay later. For now, don't rush your youth."

"I am no longer a little girl." With a quivering lower lip, she exhaled a long, dramatic breath, which made her look even younger.

"You will always be my little girl." I stood upright and placed a hand on her shoulder, drawing her in for a hug. She stood stiff for a moment before returning my embrace. My daughters were my salvation after Mary died, and we all still felt her loss. I kissed the top of Camille's head before pulling back, wishing Mary was here. She always seemed to know the right thing to say. "Now it is time to leave," I said.

Shoulders drooping, she turned and entered the carriage. A part of me wanted to give in to her pleas. I had to stand my ground. Soon enough, she would be an adult, but not yet.

"Good night, my love," I said, rocking back on my heels on the cobbled walkway. Another couple exited the house and nodded to me before entering the carriage behind my daughters. While I lived across the green from Smythington House, it wasn't safe to walk at night, hence the carriage.

"Good night, Papa." She disappeared into the interior.

The servant shut the door before I nodded to the coachman to move on. After it left, I stared up at the house, contemplating the wisdom of going back inside. Perhaps I should fetch Karen and go home. Tonight had been about old memories, some of them pleasant and others full of regret. But I had already disappointed one of my daughters and I didn't wish to upset the other.

Obligation set my feet returning to the house. Music swelled, and voices became louder as I ascended the stairs. I entered the ballroom and spied Olivia's familiar figure, her back to me. She was a comely brunette with an impressive bosom. Not that I should be looking, except it was hard not to. I ducked out of the room and ventured through the cardroom instead. Cowardly, yes. Lately, she has been persistent in her desire to force my hand into marriage.

The room was overly warm and I used the tall urn full of flowers to block me from the ballroom proper. Olivia and Nigel moved in with me after my brother died. She was very outspoken in her views on women's suffrage, and we had many lively conversations about the subject. I admired a woman with a firm opinion. It was one of the reasons I adored Eleanor.

A rush of air brushed my neck, and I turned my head to see Eleanor and Rex enter from outside. She was holding his hand and laughing at something he said. The sight brought forth a rush of envy for her.

And for him.

Rex cast me a sheepish grin, his coat askew. He looked much the same as when I'd first met him. I wasn't sure how it was possible, but he didn't have a single gray hair at thirty-eight, while my own had turned silver at the temples.

Throughout my life, my innermost desires vacillated between women and men. Both sexes appealed to me. Other than one memorable encounter with Rex on his last day at Oxford, I had stayed the traditional course. During this time of my life, I was exploring my latent desires for other men. None of them could touch the experience I had with Rex.

Eleanor looked up at me, her blue eyes carrying a glassy look, healthy color brushing her cheeks. The gaslight cast shadows across her lovely face. Her red hair, which had been artfully styled, was now loosened in places. Per usual, my heart rate picked up whenever I was around her. Unrequited love had a way of doing that to you.

I narrowed my eyes, noticing Eleanor's dress was also in disarray. A smile tilted my mouth, realization dawning. The two of them had been up to mischief outside. The envy in my chest expanded, and I lowered my eyes. I didn't want to reveal my innermost feelings to them. "Where have you two been?"

"We were out for a stroll. It is a very pleasant night," he said. The husky tenor of his voice gave him away. He was a private man who disliked unnecessary attention, but I would not let him off the hook.

"It is raining."

"Before it started to rain, it was pleasant. Yes, most pleasant." Eleanor flushed a pretty hue at being called out. She reached up and ran a palm over her hair, a leaf falling from the rich mass. Eyes rounded in surprise, she released a nervous laugh.

Rex shrugged one shoulder, looking very pleased with himself. From what he'd implied in many conversations while we were in our cups, the intimacies between them were few and far between. Apparently, that wasn't the case tonight. "A bit windy," he said.

"Yes, windy." During those conversations, I had been tempted to ask him if he recalled our night together. His father had just died, and he had had to leave Oxford to take up his duties. We had too much to drink and ended up spending the night in each other's arms.

Rex tucked Eleanor's hand into the crook of his arm, her hand delicate against his much larger one. Tilting his head, he studied me for a long moment. Shorter than me with a slender build, he exuded authority without trying. He was also attuned to others and often guessed what I was thinking before I said it. "What are you doing hiding back here?" he asked.

He might be more than shaken if he could read my illicit thoughts. Since we'd never discussed our night in twenty-some years, it told me all I needed to know. The shock of losing his father had dealt a blow to him, coupled with the responsibility of the dukedom. What was the point of rehashing those memories? Rex was loyal to Eleanor and would never stray. I never thought about one of them without the other. Their union had been enshrined in love and affection and while I was pleased they were still happy after so many years, I was envious.

"I needed some air," I lied.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes at me. She usually favored more modest dresses with less décolletage. Tonight, her breasts were pushed up by the cinched corset. I had been trying all night not to stare at the tempting sight. She leaned against her husband with marked familiarity. " You are hiding from Olivia," she said.

A wave of heat entered my cheeks at her accurate assessment. Had fate dealt a different hand, Eleanor might have accepted my proposal all those years ago and not Rex's. Except one needed only to see them together to know they were fated to be together forever. "I am simply not seeking her out," I hedged.

"Thus, you are avoiding her." Rex clapped me on the shoulder, chuckling under his breath. His touch sent a current of longing through me that had nothing to do with lust.

My wife Mary died two years before. We had a satisfying marriage full of respect and devotion. If not for the friendship of Eleanor and Rex, I don't know what I would have done when she passed.

A young footman approached our party, his livery crisp and well-fitted over his broad frame. "Beg pardon, your graces, the prime minister is looking for you. His grace is needed to partner him in a game of whist."

"Thank you. Tell him I will be in forthwith." Rex nodded to the man before he cast a cautious look at Eleanor. He was clearly torn between his duties and his wife. It seemed to be a place where he rested often. Coupled with his devotion to his children, Eleanor frequently came last. I had three daughters still in the school room, and while I tried to be a good father, I didn't face the same challenges Rex and Eleanor had with Harry. "I am sorry, Eleanor. I will have to forgo our dance. I promised him a game."

"You must fulfill your obligation." She withdrew her hand from his, her demeanor subtly changing. Her smile turned brittle before she rallied herself. The earlier comradery between them strained. All was not perfect in paradise and I sympathized with both of them. Marriage wasn't easy, hence my reasons for avoiding it a second time.

"Which means I can beg this dance." I turned to her and bowed, holding out my hand.Rex often spent his time in the cardroom while Eleanor entertained their guests. I danced with her whenever possible, any excuse to hold her in my arms. "May I?"

"I thought you were in hiding?" Eleanor laid her palm on the back of mine, her long, slender fingers looking at home on my hand.

"I can be flushed out for you." I met Rex's frowning visage and patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck, chap."

With a small smile, Rex nodded, casting another wary glance at Eleanor. "Do not step on my wife's toes."

"Wiser words couldn't be spoken," Eleanor said teasingly, her earlier good mood having returned. "Come Flynn, the orchestra is set to play a waltz, and you know how much I love to waltz."

"I do." I guided her to the dance floor, sidestepping a group of women to avoid running into Olivia, who stood among them. Was it childish on my part? Yes, but I wanted to skip tiresome formalities and dance with Eleanor. Once on the sanded floor, I turned and laid my hand on her waist.

Chin lifted, her regal neck tempted my resolve to keep my mind from the forbidden places it longed to go. I lifted my arm, extending hers as well. The position forced her to look up. My hand spanning her nipped-in waist, I guided her into step with the other couples, moving with speed across the floor in sweeping steps.

Holding her in my arms transported me to the night we first met. We'd developed an easy rapport and could speak about a myriad of subjects. Her favorite had been her love of music. In addition to being a graceful dancer, she was a gifted musician. She played the violin, and I often accompanied her on the pianoforte while our families looked on. My skills weren't on par with Eleanor's, but I enjoyed our evenings playing music.

"How is your newest composition?" I pulled her closer to me to avoid a rather loose-limbed lad whose poor dance partner was struggling to keep up with his exuberant moves.

Blue eyes the color of the sky, lit up, Eleanor's mouth curving in a pleased smile. "It is coming along swimmingly. I shall play it for you once it is done."

"I look forward to hearing it." I was a constant fixture at the ducal house due to my lifelong friendship with Rex and we often spent pleasant evenings playing cards and in other entertainment. "I can't believe it's already been over twenty years since we first met." And I proposed to her. She had turned me down for Rex. I never told him about the proposal. It was still one of my biggest disappointments.

"If I recall, you were a bit of a rake." Eleanor tilted her head back, our bodies swaying to the music. She still looked the same and was equally tempting. "And very bold."

Did she remember the time at the garden fountain when our kisses turned into a heated embrace? I shrugged and tightened my grip on her waist. We were in the middle of a crowded ballroom, and I had to remind myself that she was simply replaying a nostalgic time. She'd chosen Rex over me, and that was my reality. "I was young and full of myself."

"You are still rather full of yourself," she said with a light laugh, her gaze falling to my lips. Her own mouth parted, her lithe body swaying toward mine before she righted at the last second. "Would you do anything differently?"

I pretended to think about it because my one regret was never far from my mind. She was married to Rex, and although I envied him, I also desired him. My feelings were very complicated and unhealthy. If my friends knew about my recent obsession, they'd think I was a bedlamite. "Of course. In case you haven't noticed, I am not dead yet, nor are you. We still have time to follow our passions."

"That sounds wonderful in theory. On the other hand, when can I find the time?" She shook her head and swayed on her feet, a giggle escaping. "I think I might have had too much champagne. Rather like that night you and I waded in the fountain." The flush returned to her neck and cheeks, her fair coloring giving her away.

It had been spontaneous on our part and out of character for Eleanor. I kept the friendly smile on my lips, trying to keep my mind away from places it had no right to be. "You do recall."

"Of course I do. I, well, I shouldn't though, should I?" She stared past my shoulder, licking her lips. "I am married, and I love Rex, I truly do."

My heart leaped in my throat. Was she trying to convince me or herself? People often spoke their truth while in their cups. "Is everything all right with you two?"

She tilted her head and frowned. "Of course, I was just waxing nostalgic."

"I understand." The music ended, giving me an excuse to gather my thoughts. I kept the smile firmly on my lips and spied Olivia standing on the sidelines, a determined gleam in her eyes. "Oh, bother."

Eleanor lifted onto her toes and whispered near my ear, "You can't avoid her forever. If you don't wish to marry her, tell her."

I turned my head, telling myself not to, but unable to resist. Our eyes met, and I needed only to dip my head to catch her mouth with mine. I stepped back, very much aware of being watched by those on the sidelines. Mortification rushed through me. This obsession I had with the past had to stop. It was unhealthy for me, and if my friends found out, our friendship would suffer because of it. With a bow to Eleanor, I said, "You are right. I will take your words to heart."