Free Only an Earl Will Do by Tamara Gill Page A

not a debutante.”
    The marquis laughed, the sound far from humorous. The gentleman turned toward the lawns, focusing on some spot in the garden. “Ah, but you see I think it highly improper you should be here at all. After all, your treatment of Elizabeth is hardly worthy of friendship with our family.”
    Henry didn’t wish to argue with the man, but what did he mean when they spoke of such poor treatment? When he’d left for America he’d parted as friends with the whole family, Elizabeth included. “I had to work to keep my estate in Scotland. I would think even you would do such a thing should Dunsleigh ever be threatened by debt.”
    The marquis scoffed. “I would never allow my estates to stoop to such a level in the first place. Nor will I allow my sister to marry a man who is not fit to wipe her silk slippers.”
    “You were always too high in the instep, Worth.” Henry’s temper slipped a little at the insult.
    “It would be wise of you to keep your distance from my family, especially Elizabeth. She has moved on since her youth’s folly that nearly ruined her. She does not look for an association with an impoverished earl.”
    Henry stilled at the word “ruined.” He knew Elizabeth had told her parents of her growing affections toward him, but did her siblings know of their liaison? And why would Elizabeth have said anything to her siblings at all? It was none of their business. A thought niggled at his mind, but he couldn’t capture it. “I am no longer impoverished.” He paused, running a hand over his jaw, feeling the light stubble of regrowth already. “And what do ye know of Elizabeth and me?”
    The marquis looked almost feral. “All of it,” he stated.
    A cold chill swept down Henry’s spine. Why would Elizabeth tell anyone of what they did? Unless something he didn’t want to contemplate had happened. “In the hopes this conversation does not decline to the point where I knock ye off ye polished boots, you’d better explain the meaning behind ye words.”
    Worth laughed. “Slipping further into your natural brogue, Muir. Not at all well to do in this society. Perhaps you should leave for Scotland and return to England only when you can speak correctly.”
    Henry’s eyes narrowed, his hand clenching into a fist. “And perhaps ye ought pull yourself out of your own ass so ye can see daylight and remove the pasty shade of white your skin resembles.”
    “Typical Scot, always looking for a fight.”
    Henry’s temper snapped and before he could think better of it, his fist had connected with the marquis’s nose. No sooner had he made contact did Worth tackle him to the ground. Punches rained, and they rolled across the terrace. Henry grunted as Worth landed a solid blow in the pit of his stomach. He retaliated with a solid uppercut to the man’s pompous jaw.
    On it went until the faint sound of raised voices intruded into their brawl. Hands clamped about his shoulders, his cousin Richard pulling him off Worth. Henry stilled and looked up at the gathered crowd who stood in watch at their less-than-gentlemanly behavior.
    Ladies swathed in silk stood with hands covering their mouths. Gentlemen with amused grins looked on with interest. With a groan, Henry stood and dusted off his breeches, noting Worth doing the same. He looked up and saw Elizabeth, her face uncommonly pale in the moonlight, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
    Worth came to stand before him, wiping his bloodied nose with his sleeve. “Take heed of my warning, Muir. Or you’ll find yourself back in Scotland without any society contacts and no wife in the foreseeable future.”
    “Go to hell,” Henry said, watching as Elizabeth was led away by Lord Dean. Where would he go from here? Henry had thought he was doing the right thing when he’d left for America. Had he been wrong? Should he have married Elizabeth before he left and be damned his poverty-stricken status? Her dowry, grand as it was, would’ve only gone so