Page 27 of How to Tempt an Earl

He guided her down the hall, and his steps slowed as they approached the door to his bedchamber. A warning voice whispered in her head, and she immediately pulled back. “We discussed this. I will not be alone with you in your bedchamber.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t be.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

He opened the door, and Grace spotted a man standing inside. He was huge, with brown hair and eyes, and chest the size of a small armoire.

“You told me I needed a valet, and I’ve acquired one,” Ian said. “This is Brooks.”

She recognized the tall, large man as the guard at the door of the Raven Club.

“Good evening, Miss.” Brooks smiled at her, and she noticed a faint bruise under his right eye. She couldn’t help but wonder if the bruise was a result of prizefighting in the back of the club. Either way, Brooks looked like a militiaman or a guard, not a gentleman’s valet.

Her heart stuttered. “A proper chaperone is another lady, not a…a valet.”

“There are no other ladies present,” Ian said.

“What about your housekeeper? A proper gentleman should have one.”

“The house didn’t come with one. I’m searching to fill the position.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her. “Now will you please step inside?” Ian motioned her into his chamber.

“This is madness.”

“Perhaps. But how else are you to examine my new evening attire?”

“How is it even possible that in two days’ time you have been measured and ordered new clothes, and they have been made and delivered?” she asked.

“As I said, I paid the tailor handsomely to ensure it would be done. Once I set my mind to a task, I accomplish it straightaway.”

Clearly the man had the means to command favors. But his wardrobe was the least of her immediate concerns. Her feet were frozen on the threshold to his bedchamber. If she entered, she would see his personal space, see where he slept. It would be one step closer to an intimacy she did not want.

“Come now, Grace. Do not tell me you’ve come all this way to lose your nerve. I promise to act the perfect gentleman. Brooks will hold me to my vow, won’t you?” Ian glanced at Brooks.

Brooks placed a meaty palm across his heart. “I have permission to bloody his nose should he attempt to take advantage, my lady.”

Grace’s lips twitched with the urge to smile at his outrageous remark. For all she knew, the two had rehearsed the part before her arrival. Nonetheless, she took comfort from Brooks’s presence.

And if she were truthful with herself, she didn’t fear physical harm from Ian. If he had meant grave harm, there had been sufficient opportunity when she’d arrived at his home the first night.

No, she didn’t fear physical injury.

She feared other things…her own weakness toward him after his kiss, her racing pulse when he touched her arm.

“Grace?” Ian held open the door.

She strode into the room before her courage faltered. “I’m quite curious to know how many garments a tailor could complete in such a short time.”

“If you will be kind enough to wait, I’ll show you.” Ian and Brooks disappeared in an adjoining dressing room.

Once alone, she scanned the room. It was masculine but sparsely furnished with a mahogany chest of drawers and a desk in the corner. It was the enormous four-poster that drew her attention. She’d only glimpsed it before, but now that she was close, she couldn’t help but stare. It was exceptionally large, likely custom-made for his tall frame. A blue silk coverlet was spread over the bed, and plush cushions were piled high at its head.

A sudden disturbing question cut through her thoughts. Did he entertain his lovers here? Her face grew warm. Why should she care? She turned away just as Ian and Brooks emerged from the dressing room.

Her breath caught. Ian was garbed in full evening attire. She’d thought he would select black and white for the ball, but he’d surprised her with a navy coat of kerseymere and a striped navy and yellow waistcoat. A crisp, white cravat decorated with a diamond pin gleamed in the lamplight.

“Well? How do I look?” Ian asked.