Page 5 of Tutoring the Charming Earl

Yes, he’d been lucky. He just did not realize how lucky until that freedom was taken away from him, replaced by a burden greater than he could bear.

“Alex, did you hear a word I said?” Tess demanded.

He realized only then that she’d come to stand directly in front of him and her arms were crossed as she fixed him with a level glare.

“Er…no,” he admitted.

She rolled her eyes. “I was telling you all the lively entertainment we’ll have these next few weeks.” For what must have been the second time, she rattled off the visitors they’d be having, the dinner parties they would be throwing, the events they were to attend.

With each event she named, his gut churned anew until he was ready to double over from nausea. Each of these would be a test. Eyes watching him, waiting for him to fail. Everyone expecting him to be the sort of man his brother was—the noble, valiant, charming earl. The handsome, dashing gentleman with the social graces and the winning smile.

And then they would see him.

They would watch him falter through every conversation and they would know. The jokes that had started at his expense during the last season would gain traction as he proved the rumors true.

He was not meant to be an earl, and everyone would soon know it.

His aunt rose, her gaze steady on him as though she could read his every thought. He knew for a fact that his facial muscles had not moved, so unless she was psychic, she could not know what he was feeling.

“I told you, Alex, I brought reinforcements.” She tilted her head ever so slightly toward her new companion. His glance fell on Clara, and he started. There was such sympathy in her eyes. Such understanding.

No, it was impossible. A veritable stranger could not see what his own sister was so blithely unaware of.

Could she?

“Clara is marvelous,” Tess gushed. “Why, she’s already taught me a dance that will ensure I am the belle of the ball.” She fluttered her lashes teasingly, making them all smile—even him. The movement felt awkward, as usual. His face had not been made for smiles. They tended to appear more like grimaces.

“Clara went to finishing school, isn’t that right, dear?” Her aunt cast her a motherly smile. “I was dear friends with her mother before she passed, and I’ve watched this girl grow into a fine young lady. She’s taken it upon herself to teach her younger sister and her cousins, and they’ve turned into some of the most accomplished ladies of the ton.”

Clara’s smile was humble and never faltered, though Alex was certain everyone present understood that the reason she’d become a governess and now a companion was because of the dire straits her father had left her in.

He felt a surge of annoyance on her behalf. Not toward his aunt—she wasn’t being intentionally rude. No, toward her father. Toward her uncles and any other extended family she had who’d let her and her sister fall into ruin.

This was why a gentleman must live up to expectations. The moment he failed society, he failed his family. The second he fell from grace, his family tumbled alongside him.

He straightened, his gaze moving over Clara once more, this time with a new hope. If she could work such miracles on the ladies of her acquaintance, perhaps she could be of assistance. Maybe he wasn’t doomed to failure, after all.

He was an academic, after all. He thrived on theory and studies. Wouldn’t it make sense that social graces could be learned just as mathematics or science?

Certainly.

This lady had gone to school for it. And if his aunt was correct, she was an adequate teacher. There was no reason to believe that he could not learn. His gaze narrowed on her and he caught the flicker of her lips, the hint of mischief behind her eyes.

He felt almost certain that something was communicated between them in that moment. An understanding, perhaps.

He vowed it to himself right then and there. If she could help him—he would do all that was in his power to help her in return.

2

What was that?

Clara stared up at the ceiling of her new bedroom and tried not to think about it.

But no, honestly…what was that?

For the life of her she could not stop thinking about that stare. That glare. That…oh, she didn’t know what to call it. The way Lord Charmian had looked at her had made her spine tingle and her knees weak.

Each and every time.