The Earl Falls in Love - Chapter 5

Spicy BL/MM/GAY Omegaverse Historical Romance

Edward

Edward drifted toward consciousness through layers of pain. His head pounded like a blacksmith’s anvil, his body ached in places he hadn’t known existed, and his spine felt as though it had been replaced with an iron rod. He groaned inwardly, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

Soft. He was lying on something yielding—a mattress, not the cold, hard ground where those outlaws had left him for dead. Perhaps he truly had died and was now resting on a cloud in heaven?

Heaven. The word triggered a memory—the angel with tousled brown hair and summer-sky eyes who had found him. Had that been real, or merely a hallucination born of pain and desperation?

As consciousness returned more fully, Edward became aware of a scent—delicate yet unmistakable—that seemed to wrap around him like a silken embrace. Fresh rain and wildflowers with honey undertones, partially masked by herbs but still detectable to his alpha senses. An omega’s scent, and one that stirred something primal within him.

Eager to confirm the vision hadn’t been a dream, Edward forced his heavy eyelids open.

Above him stretched a wooden ceiling in desperate need of repair, with water stains and small cracks mapping its surface. He shifted his gaze around the room, noting its modest dimensions—smaller even than his dressing room at Tyndall Manor. Despite its shabbiness, the space had a certain cozy charm, enhanced by a vase of autumn flowers brightening the windowsill.

He attempted to shift position and was rewarded with an alarming crack from his protesting spine. The bed beneath him was ridiculously small, making him feel like a giant trying to sleep in a child’s cradle. His limbs seemed to overflow the edges of the mattress, which explained at least some of his discomfort. Who on earth would design a bed of such impractical dimensions?

Edward tried to push himself upright but found the task nearly impossible. The sagging mattress created a depression that held him like quicksand. With a frustrated sigh, he made another attempt, this time rolling onto his side—and promptly froze at the sight that greeted him.

There, curled in an armchair beside the bed, was the angel from his memory—even more breathtaking in reality than in his recollection.

The beautiful creature was fast asleep, delicate features relaxed in repose. Dark lashes cast shadows on high cheekbones, and full lips parted slightly with each breath. A small mole beneath one eye added character to a face that already seemed designed to captivate. The scent, stronger in sleep when control was relaxed, confirmed what Edward had already suspected—this vision of loveliness was an omega.

Edward stared, transfixed. Something about this beauty struck him with almost physical force, awakening an impulse to touch that perfect face, to trace the contours of those lips with his fingertips—perhaps even to taste them. His alpha instincts surged with unexpected intensity, urging him to claim, to protect, to possess.

The desire was so compelling that Edward moved without conscious thought. Distracted by the sleeping vision before him, he misjudged the bed’s dimensions. His hand slipped off the edge, and suddenly he was tumbling gracelessly to the floor with a resounding thud.

He found himself in the absurd position of having his upper body on the floor while his legs remained on the bed, his dignity preserved only by the blanket that miraculously still covered his most private areas. Edward groaned, wondering when he had become such a clumsy oaf.

He was preparing to push himself up when a soft gasp reached his ears, followed by the warmth of another body near his own. The omega’s scent intensified with alarm, enveloping him in a cloud of sweetness that made his head swim.

“Sir, are you all right?” came a voice that managed to be both melodious and slightly sardonic.

Edward lifted his head to find the angel looking down at him with concern, those remarkable blue eyes even more stunning up close. His heart performed an uncharacteristic somersault in his chest, and his alpha scent responded instinctively, becoming warmer and more protective.

“Hello,” he managed, summoning what he hoped was his most charming smile despite his ridiculous position.

“I see you’ve decided to explore our floor,” the beauty said with a hint of amusement. “I can assure you the bed is more comfortable, though evidently not built for someone of your... substantial proportions.”

Edward blinked, surprised by the unexpected wit. Most omegas he encountered were demure to the point of dullness, especially when addressing an alpha. This one, however, seemed refreshingly unimpressed by his predicament.

“Let’s get you back where you belong before you crack your skull open and ruin my morning completely,” the omega continued, carefully wrapping a slender arm around Edward’s back.

Edward felt a peculiar warmth spread through him at the touch. He allowed himself to be guided back onto the mattress, noting the surprising strength in those delicate-looking arms. Only when the omega said, “Let’s cover you up before you scandalize the entire household,” with a telltale flush creeping up those lovely cheeks, did Edward realize his state of undress.

Damn hell.

“Um, sorry about that,” the beauty said, stepping back with admirable composure. “We had to remove your clothes because they were wet and filthy. Doctor’s orders. Your modesty was sacrificed for your survival, I’m afraid.”

Edward noticed the bandages wrapped around his torso and arms. He touched his head, finding more bandaging there.

“You... found me,” he said, pieces of memory slotting into place.

“In the grassland yesterday morning,” the omega confirmed. “Waffle—that’s my dog—deserves most of the credit. I was just following his barking. You were doing a marvelous impression of a corpse.”

Edward frowned. “Yesterday morning?”

“Yes, yesterday,” came the reply with a nod. “You’ve been unconscious since then, which frankly was becoming rather concerning. Are you thirsty? Hungry? In desperate need of something stronger than tea? I can’t offer brandy, but Martha makes a cider that could strip paint, if you’re interested.”

Edward couldn’t help but smile at the unexpected humor. “Tea would be wonderful,” he admitted, suddenly aware of his parched throat.

“Tea it is, then. The boring but sensible choice.” The omega crossed to a small table where a teapot waited, movements graceful despite the obvious fatigue evident in the slump of those shoulders.

As his caretaker moved, Edward found himself studying the slender frame with unexpected interest. The omega was dressed in simple but well-fitted clothing that somehow managed to appear both practical and flattering. The shirt and trousers accentuated a narrow waist and the graceful lines of a body that seemed almost too delicate for the evident strength it contained.

The contradiction puzzled Edward. The clothing, the manner of speech, the refined features—all suggested breeding and education. Yet the shabby room and the evident role as caretaker implied a much humbler station. And then there was the unmistakable omega scent, carefully masked but still detectable to Edward’s sensitive nose.

His caretaker turned, drawing Edward’s attention back to that captivating face. The omega approached the bed with a steaming cup, then hesitated. “You’re still injured. Let me help before you spill this all over yourself and add ‘scalded’ to your list of ailments.”

The beauty perched carefully on the edge of the mattress and lifted the cup to Edward’s lips. “Careful, it’s hot. Though I suppose after surviving whatever disaster befell you in our fields, a burned tongue would be the least of your concerns.”

Edward felt another peculiar warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the tea. He leaned forward, placing his hands over the omega’s to steady the cup, creating a moment of unexpected intimacy. Their scents mingled in the small space between them—his alpha notes of sandalwood and leather blending with the omega’s fresher, sweeter profile.

The flush on his caretaker’s cheeks deepened to crimson. When those full lips were nervously moistened and those eyes glanced away in apparent embarrassment, Edward felt something tighten in his chest.

Good God.

The impulse to cast aside the teacup and pull this beautiful creature into his arms was almost overwhelming. His alpha instincts urged him to claim this unmated omega, to mark that delicate skin with his scent, to protect this rare beauty from a world that couldn’t possibly appreciate it properly. Only years of rigid self-discipline allowed Edward to maintain his composure as he continued sipping the tea until the cup was empty.

When the omega moved to stand, Edward reluctantly released those hands. “What’s your name?” he asked, not willing to let his caretaker withdraw just yet.

The beauty glanced over one shoulder, about to reply when the door creaked open. A small girl with dark hair stood in the doorway, clutching a pink stuffed sheep.

“Rosie, what are you doing here?” the omega asked, attention shifting to the child.

She rubbed sleepy eyes with one tiny fist. “I heard scary noises.”

Edward winced, realizing his graceless tumble had disturbed the household.

His caretaker crossed to the door and lifted the little girl into slender arms. “It’s just the sound of our guest trying to escape, but don’t worry—I’ve foiled his plans,” came the explanation, delivered with a conspiratorial wink that made the child giggle. “Want to say hello to our captive?”

Edward observed them together, noting their similar features—the same dark hair, the same striking blue eyes. Siblings, clearly. The little girl was adorable, with a sweetness that reminded him of his niece Emily.

“Hello,” she said shyly.

Edward smiled warmly. “Hello. Is your name Rosie?”

She nodded solemnly. “Uh-huh.”

Rosie. Like Reuben and Rosie, the Harrison twins. A coincidence, surely.

“That’s a lovely name,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she replied, her cheeks pinking charmingly. “Grandma says Mama gived me my name before she went to heaven.”

Edward’s heart contracted at the simple statement. Their mother had passed away, then.

“Did she?” he said gently. “I must say your mama gave you a beautiful name. Rosie means rose flower, and roses are beautiful, especially the pink ones.”

The little girl’s face lit up. “You like pink too? Pink is the bestest color ever!”

“Pink is my niece’s favorite color as well,” Edward told her. “Her name is Emily. She’s five years old, around your age, and I’m sure you two would become good friends if you were to meet.”

“Can I meet her? Can I meet her now?” Rosie asked eagerly.

Edward laughed, charmed by her enthusiasm. “No, sweetie, she’s not here. She lives in St. Louis.”

Her face fell dramatically. “I wanna go to St. Louis! I wanna meet Emily!” She turned to her sibling. “Can we go? Please please please?”

The omega smiled indulgently. “We can discuss that with Grandma and everyone else. But for now, that’s enough disturbing our guest. He needs his rest, and you need to get back to bed before Dorothy discovers you’re missing and blames me for your midnight wanderings.”

Rosie’s lower lip protruded in a perfect pout. “But I’m not sleepy! I wanna meet Emily! Reuben’s too noisy. He goes ‘grrrr’ in his sleep!”

Reuben? Edward felt a prickle of unease.

“Then why don’t you wake him up and tell him to be quiet? Perhaps threaten him with Martha’s wooden spoon—that always worked on me,” the omega suggested with a mischievous twinkle. “Now, say goodbye to our guest before he thinks all Harrisons are as ill-mannered as I am.”

Harrisons. Edward’s suspicions deepened.

Rosie continued pouting for a moment before leaning close to whisper something. The omega laughed softly and moved closer to the bed until she was within arm’s reach of Edward. To his surprise, she solemnly offered him her stuffed sheep.

“You can have this till I wake up,” she announced with all the gravity of a queen bestowing a royal favor.

The gesture touched Edward unexpectedly. He knew from experience with Emily that children rarely parted with beloved toys except for those they particularly favored.

“Then I shall guard it with my life,” he promised, accepting the gift with appropriate solemnity.

A blush stained her cheeks, making her look even more like a porcelain doll.

Her sibling chuckled, the sound drawing Edward’s attention like a magnet. “All right, say goodbye now,” came the instruction. “Our guest needs rest, not an extended audience with the youngest and most demanding member of our household.”

“Bye-bye,” Rosie waved, still blushing.

After they left, Edward found himself smiling at the pink sheep in his hands, oddly moved by the child’s trust.

When the omega returned alone, those blue eyes danced with amusement. “Rosie only lends toys to people she really likes. That sheep is new and special to her. She got it from Amy last year as a birthday gift. I’m afraid you’ve made quite the conquest there.”

Edward examined the toy more carefully. “Looks handmade.”

“All of Reuben and Rosie’s soft toys are handmade by Dorothy and Amy,” came the reply. “They’re all special. Though I suspect that one will now be extra special since it was deemed worthy of comforting a wounded stranger.”

The names struck Edward like a physical blow. Reuben and Rosie? Dorothy? Harrisons?

“You must be hungry,” his caretaker continued, oblivious to Edward’s sudden tension. “I’ll go down and see if either Jenny or Martha are awake. Martha’s usually up with the roosters, muttering about lazy youngsters while she kneads dough with enough force to make the kitchen table surrender.”

Before Edward could ask the question burning on his tongue, the beauty disappeared through the door with a grace that belied the evident exhaustion in those movements.

Alone, Edward became acutely aware of another pressing need. Having been unconscious for more than a day, his bladder was making urgent demands that couldn’t be ignored. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass himself in front of his beautiful caretaker by soiling the bed like an infant.

He carefully maneuvered himself out of bed, clutching the sheet around his waist for modesty’s sake. He padded around the small room, searching for a connecting bathroom, though he suspected a house of this age and apparent condition was unlikely to have modern plumbing.

The door opened unexpectedly, and his caretaker froze in the doorway, eyes widening at the sight of Edward standing naked but for the strategically placed sheet.

Edward didn’t miss the flush that spread across those cheeks, nor the way those blue eyes traveled over his exposed torso and limbs with unmistakable interest. The scrutiny sent an unexpected thrill through him. More surprising still was the subtle shift in the omega’s scent—a sweetening that spoke of attraction and interest, despite evident embarrassment.

He’d been the object of appreciative gazes before—at balls, dinner parties, even in the boxing ring. But those looks had never affected him the way this one did. He felt simultaneously exposed and exhilarated, a combination that was as confusing as it was arousing.

Good God, get hold of yourself, man.

Suddenly aware of how inappropriate the situation was, Edward shifted position, trying to preserve what little dignity remained.

“I see you’re determined to explore every inch of my bedroom,” the omega said, voice slightly higher than before. “Finding it to your liking, are you?”

Edward cleared his throat. “Bathroom?”

“Bathroom?” The beauty repeated, looking puzzled before understanding dawned. “Oh! We don’t have anything like that here, I’m afraid. Chamber pot’s over there by the washstand. Not quite the luxurious facilities you’re likely accustomed to, but it serves its purpose. Just don’t knock it over—I’ve only just changed the rug.”

Edward glanced to where the omega was pointing and spotted the chamber pot in question. “Thank you,” he managed.

“I’ll go find you something to wear,” his caretaker said, backing toward the door. “Grandma Eliza would likely have a fit if you appeared for breakfast in nothing but a sheet. She’s old-fashioned that way—insists on trousers at the breakfast table. Terribly unreasonable of her.”

Grandma Eliza? Edward’s unease deepened.

Once again, his caretaker departed before Edward could question further, though not without a final appreciative glance that sent another wave of heat through him.

Edward frowned, considering the names he’d heard. Eliza—likely short for Elizabeth. Dorothy. Reuben and Rosie. Harrisons. All associated with the Harrison family of Cheswick.

After relieving himself and returning to bed, Edward was greeted by his caretaker’s return with a bundle of folded clothing.

“Your trousers and undergarment survived your adventure mostly intact,” the omega explained, placing the garments at the foot of the bed. “Unfortunately, your shirt met a tragic end. Too many bloodstains and tears to resurrect it, I’m afraid. This was my father’s—he wasn’t nearly as tall or broad as you, but it should cover the essential parts. Unless you prefer to scandalize the household, which I wouldn’t recommend. Martha might faint into the porridge.”

Edward nodded, noting the past tense used for the father. “Thank you,” he said, then hesitated, still needing to confirm what he now strongly suspected. “I don’t believe I caught your name...”

“Ian,” the beauty supplied with a smile that transformed that already lovely face into something truly breathtaking.

Ian? Edward tilted his head, puzzled. That was unquestionably a male name, not a nickname for any female name he knew. But if this was Ian Harrison, then...

Edward inhaled deeply, focusing his alpha senses on the scent markers that his instincts had already recognized. Yes, this was definitely a male omega—rare, precious, and completely unexpected.

“Martha’s already up and terrorizing the kitchen,” Ian continued, seemingly unaware of Edward’s confusion. “She’s an early riser, even more so than me. She’s preparing something for you to eat.” He moved closer. “Do you need help getting dressed? Or would you prefer to maintain what little dignity you have left and struggle through it alone?”

Yes, please, Edward thought, then immediately chastised himself for the inappropriate direction of his thoughts. “Ian?” he asked instead. “Is that short for something?”

Ian raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean? Ian is just Ian. Were you expecting something more elaborate? Sir Ian Bartholomew Fitzwilliam Harrison the Third, perhaps? I’m afraid it’s just plain Ian.”

Edward chuckled awkwardly. “It’s a boy’s name.”

“Yes?” Ian confirmed, looking confused by the observation. “Generally given to boys, though I suppose there’s no law against a girl being called Ian. Might raise a few eyebrows at social gatherings, but then again, so does my entire existence.”

The reality crashed over Edward like a wave. His angel, his beautiful caretaker with the exquisite features and gentle hands, was not a young woman at all, but a young man. A male omega, specifically, which explained the enticing scent that had drawn Edward from the moment of consciousness.

Edward felt momentarily disoriented, not by the revelation itself, but by his own unchanged reaction to it. The attraction he’d felt hadn’t diminished with this knowledge. If anything, the unique rarity of a male omega with such striking beauty only intensified his interest—a realization that both confused and intrigued him.

Before he could process this further, a young voice called urgently from the hallway. “Ian! Ian!”

The door burst open, and a small boy with dark hair and tear-stained cheeks rushed in. “Rosie took my sheep! She took it!” he wailed between hiccups.

Edward stared, dumbfounded, as another dark-haired, blue-eyed child—clearly the twin brother of the little girl he’d met earlier—tugged desperately at Ian’s sleeve.

Ian sighed and knelt beside the distressed child. “Calm down, Reuben,” he said gently, wiping tears from the boy’s face. “The world isn’t ending, though your performance suggests otherwise. Now, what’s this about Rosie and your sheep?”

Reuben hiccupped. “She taked my sheep when I was sleeping!”

Edward’s eyes widened as understanding dawned. Rosie had given him her brother’s toy, not her own. If the boy couldn’t sleep without it, why had she taken it in the first place?

“I see,” Ian said patiently. “And you can’t sleep without your sheep toy? The one you insisted last week was ‘for babies’ and you were ‘too grown up for it’?”

Reuben nodded miserably. “I need it! I can’t sleep good without it!”

“What if I give you my soft toy? The one Mother gave me?” Ian offered. “Would that help you get back to sleep? It’s much more dignified than a sheep.”

Reuben rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. “The one from Mama?”

Ian nodded.

The boy considered this for a moment. “But... but it’s yours.”

Ian smiled gently. “It’s fine. I’m giving it to you. Do you want it?”

Reuben looked down at his bare feet, then nodded slowly. “Okay... if you really want me to have it...”

Edward couldn’t help laughing at the child’s transparent manipulation. The little rascal knew exactly what he was doing.

His laughter drew the attention of both brothers. Reuben turned, his eyes widening comically as he spotted Edward. “There’s the big man! He’s in our house!” he announced, pointing with the directness only a child could manage.

“Hello,” Edward greeted him, amused by the frank assessment.

“Hello,” Reuben replied. “You’re big like a giant! Are you gonna break Ian’s bed? It goes creak-creak!”

Ian wrapped an arm around his little brother. “Reuben, don’t be rude to our guest.” He turned to Edward with an apologetic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “This is my brother, Reuben. He’s Rosie’s twin. They’re nonidentical, as you can tell already. Thankfully, since the world could hardly handle two Reubens or two Rosies.”

Reuben and Rosie. The names hit Edward like a physical blow. There could be no more doubt.

But he needed absolute confirmation before confronting the reality of his situation. “Reuben,” he said carefully, “did your sister Rosie take your sheep toy from you while you were sleeping?”

Reuben nodded. “But Ian’s gonna give me a new toy, so I’m okay now.” He grinned, showing a gap where a baby tooth had recently departed.

“After I’ve given you the toy, promise me you’ll go back to bed and sleep, all right?” Ian bargained.

“All right,” Reuben agreed readily.

“Good boy,” Ian said, ruffling his hair.

Edward watched as Ian crossed to a chest of drawers and retrieved a well-loved stuffed rabbit. The delight on Reuben’s face was palpable as he received this treasure.

“Thank you, Ian,” he said, beaming.

“Now, go back to bed and sleep,” Ian instructed, tousling the boy’s hair again. “Don’t disturb our guest anymore, got it? He needs his rest, and I need at least five minutes without a Harrison crisis to manage.”

“Got it,” Reuben promised before scampering out the door.

Once they were alone, Ian turned back to Edward with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. The house is a bit noisy because there are children around. And adults who behave like children. And a dog who thinks he’s people. It’s all very chaotic.”

Edward could certainly relate to that—Tyndall Manor was rarely quiet between Emily, Ethan, and his sisters’ antics.

“Ian?” he ventured cautiously.

“Yes?” the young man replied.

“...Harrison?” Edward finished.

Ian looked mildly surprised. “You must have heard about us in the village. We’re well known there. It’s a small place where everyone knows almost everyone else.” He tilted his head curiously. “I’m sure people could tell you’re not from around here. Was it Kelly at the tavern? She loves to gossip almost as much as she loves to flirt with anything in trousers.”

Edward ran a hand through his hair. “No, I’m not. In fact, this is my first visit to the area.” He studied the young man before him, struck anew by his beauty. Despite the revelation of Ian’s gender, Edward found his attraction undiminished—a fact that both confused and intrigued him. He’d never responded this way to another man before, had always been certain of his preference for women. Was there something unique about Ian Harrison, or was this merely the result of his injuries and disorientation?

No, not just any man—a male omega. His alpha instincts had recognized the compatibility before his conscious mind had caught up. The strange pull he felt toward Ian wasn’t merely physical attraction; it was a biological response to a compatible mate. The realization was both comforting and alarming.

Pushing aside these unsettling thoughts, Edward glanced around the modest room. “What is this place?”

“Cheswick Manor,” Ian answered. “Though it’s called a manor, it’s not really. It’s small compared to a proper one, and the place is falling apart. There isn’t enough money for repairs, but it’s fine for us. It’s home.” His gaze shifted to the window, a shadow of sadness crossing his features.

“But we’ll be losing our home soon, so...” He sighed, then visibly brightened as he looked back at Edward. “Anyway, I’ll go down and see if Martha has finished preparing your meal. Try not to fall out of bed again while I’m gone. I’d hate to have to explain to Dr. Webb how you managed to injure yourself further under my supposedly watchful care.”

As Ian disappeared through the door, Edward stared into space, processing what he had learned.

Ian Harrison.

The villager’s description had been puzzling—Kelly had called him “pretty and delicate-looking” but also claimed he was a “devil underneath” who “brought men to their knees” and had “a terrible name in these parts.” Now Edward understood the contradiction. Ian was indeed delicate-featured and beautiful, but there was a sharp edge to his wit and a quiet strength in his movements that hinted at someone who wouldn’t hesitate to defend himself or his family.

Edward recalled Kelly’s words about Ian fighting and “causing trouble” for the local boys. He could now imagine this slender omega using his wits and whatever physical skills he’d developed to overcome larger opponents who underestimated him because of his appearance. The thought of Ian being forced into such a position—having to fight rather than being protected—stirred something primal in Edward’s alpha nature.

No wonder Ian had developed that sharp tongue and protective demeanor. A male omega in a remote village, responsible for his younger siblings, without proper guidance or protection? He would have needed every defense at his disposal.

With those striking blue eyes, that quick wit, and that rare combination of beauty and fierce protectiveness, Edward found himself uncomfortably aware that he was already halfway to his knees for reasons he’d never anticipated.

The situation was even more concerning than Daniel had implied. This beautiful young man needed guidance, support, protection—all things that Edward, as his legal guardian and an alpha of means, was perfectly positioned to provide.

He was, as his sisters would gleefully point out, thoroughly and completely screwed. Not only was he attracted to his ward—a situation complicated enough on its own—but his alpha biology was already responding to Ian’s omega nature in ways that would be difficult to control.

As Edward contemplated this unexpected complication, his gaze fell on the pink sheep toy still clutched in his hand. He smiled despite himself, finding a strange comfort in the simple gift from a child who had no idea who he really was.

Tomorrow would bring the inevitable revelation of his identity and all the complications that would follow. But for tonight, he was simply a guest in the Harrison home, being cared for by the most captivating omega he had ever encountered.