Page 1 of An Enchantress for an Earl

Chapter One

“Did you hear the latest gossip, Violet? Westerhazy’s son and heir has been sent down from Oxford. Apparently, he challenged one of his professors in a most inappropriate manner.”

Lady Violet Gardenbrook looked up from her book, her expression one of horror. Her sister watched her, expectantly.

“Sent down? How disgusting! Men have no appreciation for the advantages they hold. I simply cannot imagine being given the gift of being able to study, to learn, in a place like Oxford and being so irresponsible and foolish as to throw that chance away, for the sake of what was probably just some childish bad behaviour!”

Iris looked at her, amused.

“You would think that – you would do anything to immerse yourself in a book. Well, perhaps except missing a Ball, although I think that would be a difficult decision for you.”

Violet threw a cushion at her sister.

“Just as difficult as if you had to choose between learning a new piece of music, and a Ball.”

Iris sipped her tea, and regarded her sister seriously.

“That may be true. But still… apparently, the Marquess of Westerhazy is not at all pleased. I suppose we’ll hear more of it at the Jamison Ball tomorrow. I do wonder exactly what he did, though – I am not even sure what subjects he was studying. Perhaps Lady Fotheringhampton will know more, and will be telling everyone.”

Violet nodded, and went back to her book, but found that she could not concentrate. The very idea that a man might waste the chance to study, by doing something that got them sent down, offended her deeply. At least men had a chance to study! As a woman, no matter how much she wanted to, she would not be accepted into Oxford or Cambridge, women being deemed, by most men, to be too featherbrained to be capable of deep learning. That kind of thinking maddened her, but she had come to accept that most of the ton believed it to be true.

At least her family had a very large library, and her father believed that his daughters should do unconventional things, if that made them happy. He did prefer that they not cause scandal, of course, so Violet kept her penchant for study and her ability to read five languages as a thing discussed only amongst her close family.

She stared at the page, not seeing it, trying to remember if she had ever met the Marquess of Westerhazy’s son. After some rumination, she realised that she had – only once, last year at a Ball, when he had been in London close to Easter. He was Arryn Carrington, the Earl of Merryfield. He would be twenty-three, now, so in his last year at Oxford.

And, if her memory served her, he was as handsome as sin.

Which was not, in her opinion, a redeeming feature. Nothing could redeem a man who had thrown away his chance to study at Oxford.

>>>

Arryn Carrington, Earl of Merryfield, regarded his father unhappily as the Marquess paced about the room. He had dreaded this moment, from the very minute that he had been handed the notice informing him that he was being sent down.

The Marquess turned, and fixed his son with a steely look.

“Arryn, what on earth did you say to your Professor that so offended him?”

“I told the truth – I told him that he was wrong. I had all of the research, all of the proof, but he insisted on being a blind fool, and ignoring the last thirty years changes in law and due process. I could not simply agree with such blind, wilful ignorance!”

The Marquess groaned, shaking his head.

“Could you not have simply kept your new research to yourself, and pandered to the man long enough to receive your Degree? It wanted but another three months, and you might have been done with the place, honourably. At that point, your new research would have been most useful to me in the House of Lords, backed by the ‘evidence’ of that Degree.”

Arryn felt the frustration rise again – why could no one understand that he could not simply ignore the outright dissemination of incorrect information?

“No, I could not. It is positively criminal that a Professor should remain so ignorant of modern developments, and continue to teach students things which have ceased to be in any way correct.”

“Perhaps, my son, before the day when I am no more, it would behove you to learn something far closer to diplomacy. Else you will spend your whole life arguing. And sadly, those who habitually lie tend to be far more successful in life, for they tell people what they want to hear. But for now, we must deal with the results of your actions.”

“And how do you suggest that we do that? I refuse to go back to Oxford, and that man’s classes!”

The Marquess went to the sideboard, and poured two brandies, then returned to hand one to Arryn.

“I suspected that you would be stubborn, so I have made some enquiries – and some subtly pointed suggestions. The Professor who offends you so will develop the sudden desire to retire at the end of this year, encouraged by a generous stipend from the University, in recognition of his long service. And during the following academic year, the University will see fit to give you one last chance to finish. By then, I trust that you will have prepared yourself to swallow your pride, and simply endure that last few months until you can pass the exams and receive your Degree. But in the immediate term, you will set yourself to charming the ton, and giving the gossips no further material to work with.”

Arryn took a sizeable swallow of the brandy, feeling the pleasant burn of it fill him with reassuring warmth. He did not like his father’s requirement, but he accepted that it was sensible. And he did not envisage too great a difficulty in avoiding providing the gossips with material.

He had little interest in society and the simpering hordes of young women who sought husbands with merciless determination. None of them had the slightest intelligence in their heads. They rarely spoke a second language, let alone more, they did not read, beyond silly novels and the fashion magazines, and they seemed able to discuss nothing but the weather.