Historical Trio 2012-01 (23 page)
Read Historical Trio 2012-01 Online
Authors: Carole Mortimer
‘I love you, Caro,’ he repeated huskily. ‘Do you think, after all that has happened, that if I were to get down on my knees and beg, you might one day be able to love me in return and consider becoming my wife?’
Her cheeks warmed as she remembered the occasion upon which she had said those words to him. ‘As I recall, you had just finished telling me that our lovemaking was a mistake—’
‘Then it was a most wonderful, glorious mistake!’ he assured her fiercely as he cupped the sides of her face between gentle hands. ‘I have been a fool, Caro. An arrogant fool. My only excuse—if there can ever be one!—is that I have never met a woman like you before. Never known any woman with your courage, your generosity of spirit, your honesty. I love you truly, Caro, and if you could one day learn to love me in return, I promise you I will love you for the rest of our lives together. Will you, Caro? Will you give me the chance to show you how much I love you? A chance to persuade you into learning to love me?’ he added less certainly.
It was that uncharacteristic uncertainty that convinced Caro she could not be dreaming, after all; even in a dream she would not have bestowed uncertainty upon a man she knew to be always confident and sure, of both his own emotions and those around him!
And yet Dominic was not sure of her and seemed to have no idea that she had fallen in love with him, too. ‘My dear…’ her voice was gentle, tentative ‘…I am already in love with you—’
‘My darling girl!’ Dominic swept her ecstatically up into his arms before claiming her mouth with his.
Caro was still so overwhelmed by his declaration of love and his proposal of marriage, that for several long and pleasurable minutes all she could do was return the passion of his kisses.
It was some time later before her sanity returned. ‘I realise that the Earl of Blackstone could not possibly marry a woman such as Caro Morton—’
‘I can marry whom I damned well please,’ he told her with a return of his usual arrogance. ‘And I choose to marry you, if you will have me,’ he added determinedly. ‘I do not care who or what you are, Caro. Or what you are running away from. I love you. And it is my dearest wish—my only wish—to make you my wife.’
This, more than anything else, finally convinced Caro of the depth of Dominic’s love for her. He was a lord, an Earl, and yet he was proposing marriage to a woman he had only known as a singer in a gambling club. A woman he had already made love to. Twice!
She chewed briefly on her bottom lip. ‘I should tell you that my mother ran away with her lover when I was a child, and was later shot and killed by him when he caught her in the arms of yet another lover.’
Dominic’s thumb moved lightly across her bottom lip, his eyes ablaze with the love he claimed to feel for her. ‘I have said I do not care about your past, my love, and I truly do not,’ he vowed. ‘Besides, you are not responsible for your mother’s actions.’
‘Any more than you are to blame for the death of your own mother.’
Dominic released his breath in a deep sigh. ‘I have always felt responsible…’
Caro gently touched his cheek with her fingertips. ‘Tell me what really happened.’
He gave a pained wince. ‘I do not believe I could bear it if, once I have done so, you decided you did not love me, after all.’
‘It will not happen,’ she vowed with certainty. ‘Dominic, I know you to be a man who is honest and true. A man who cares deeply for others in spite of himself—Lord Thorne, Drew, Ben, myself, to name only four. I absolutely refuse to believe that you would ever have harmed your own mother.’
‘I hope you still think that once I have told you what happened.’ Dominic kissed her slowly and lingeringly before speaking again. ‘I went away to school when I was twelve years old. I was not a good pupil. I resented being sent away, and got into all manner of scrapes in an attempt to be sent home again. I do not even remember what the last one was.’ He grimaced. ‘Only that it resulted in my mother having to travel to the school shortly after the Christmas holidays in order to stop the headmaster from expelling me.’
Caro could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest, the harshness of his breathing as he was obviously beset by the memories that had haunted him into adulthood. ‘I love you, Dominic,’ she encouraged gently.
His arms tightened about her as he continued. ‘Her coach slipped on the icy roads and into an even icier river. The doors became stuck fast and she could not get out as the water—’
‘Do not say any more!’ Caro sat up and placed her fingertips over his lips as she gazed down at him. ‘You were a child, Dominic. A child who felt hurt and rebellious because he felt he had been sent away from those he loved. You were no more responsible for the death of your mother or your father than—than I am.’
Strangely, as Dominic looked up into Caro’s compassionate and love-filled eyes, all of the guilt, the feeling that he was unworthy of being loved, quietly and for ever slipped away.
She shook her head. ‘It is sad that your father felt he could not go on living without her but—loving you as I do, I believe I know something of how he must have felt,’ she added shyly; if Dominic really had been killed earlier today, then Caro knew she would have found it difficult to go on living, too…
He gave a choked groan as he pulled her tightly against him and buried his face in her hair. ‘How was I ever lucky enough to find you, Caro? How?’
Caro did not want him to be sad any more; he had already suffered enough, believed himself unworthy of love for long enough. ‘But you do not know yet whom you have found,’ she reminded him teasingly.
He raised his head to smile at her. ‘First tell me that you will marry me, whoever you are.’
‘I will.’
‘Caro…’ Dominic kissed her for several more love-filled minutes, the happiness on his face when he at last raised his head, making him look almost boyish as he grinned down at her.
‘But before that can happen,’ Caro murmured ruefully, ‘you will have to obtain the approval of my guardian.’
Dominic’s smile faded slightly. ‘Your guardian?’
‘I am afraid so.’
He frowned. ‘Tell me who this guardian is and I will go to him immediately, assure him that I am a reformed character since meeting you and solicit him for his permission to marry you.’
‘It is not necessary for you to go to him.’ Caro’s eyes glowed with laughter. ‘I believe that he is coming to you.’
‘To me?’ Dominic frowned his confusion. ‘But how—?’ His eyes widened as he became still.
‘Westbourne?’
he breathed in disbelief.
‘I am afraid so,’ Caro admitted.
Dominic stared down at her, absolutely dumbstruck for several long seconds, and then he began to smile, and then finally to laugh. ‘Westbourne!’ He sobered suddenly. ‘It is because I had told you I was expecting him to arrive in England any day that you were leaving London so hurriedly earlier,’ he realised incredulously.
‘Yes.’
‘What I should have added is that Gabriel does not intend to remain in London, but travel almost immediately to Shoreley Hall.’
‘Oh dear!’ Caro cringed now at the thought of what her sister Diana would have to say to Dominic’s friend when he arrived.
Dominic seemed to suffer no such worries as he chuckled, once more diverted by the thought that he had stolen a march on his friend and whipped one of his possible choices of bride out from under his nose. ‘And which Lady Copeland will I have the pleasure of making my wife?’
‘Caroline—I am the second daughter.’
‘And you decided to run away to London after refusing to even contemplate becoming Westbourne’s bride?’
She gave a delicate shudder. ‘I could not possibly marry a man I do not love.’
‘And your sisters? Have they run away, too?’
‘Oh, no, I am sure they have not.’ Caro shook her head, firmly pushing away the flicker of doubt in her mind about that girl in the park who had looked so like Elizabeth. ‘I am the rebellious one, I am afraid.’
‘Something I will be grateful for until the day I die,’ Dominic assured her lovingly.
Dominic loved her just as much as Caro loved him—and she was blissfully certain that he would obtain his friend’s permission for the two of them to marry as soon as it could be arranged.
She wound her arms about his neck as she arched up into him. ‘Would you care to show me how much you are grateful, Dominic?’
‘Gladly!’ he groaned as his head lowered and his mouth once again captured hers, the two of them quickly forgetting everything and everyone else but the love they felt for one other, now and for always.
* * * * *
THE LADY FORFEITS
Carole Mortimer
Countess under duress!
Lady Diana Copeland has hot-footed it to London to tell her new guardian, Lord Faulkner, exactly what she thinks of his outrageous marriage demands! Well, with her two flighty sisters having run off, no one else is going to do it....
Surely this magnificent man with a naughty glint in his eye can’t be the pompous old fool she was expecting? Inhaling deeply, Diana fights not to get lost in the depths of Lord Faulkner’s intoxicating gaze...or to make the worst forfeit—by agreeing to be the lord’s new countess!
The Copeland Sisters
Flouting convention, flirting with danger…
Caroline, Diana and Elizabeth Copeland are faced with a challenge…a new guardian who is determined on marriage—to one of them! But these three sisters aren’t afraid to discard the rules of Regency Society. They’re equally determined to take their futures—including potential husbands—very much into their own hands….
THE LADY GAMBLES
November 2011
THE LADY FORFEITS
December 2011
THE LADY CONFESSES
January 2012
Author Note
I’ve always delighted in reading stories of love and adventure set in the Regency period, and it really is a dream come true for me to now be able to write these stories myself. To be able to indulge that love to the full, to live in that period for months at a time, if only in my imagination. In fact, it’s sometimes been a shock to come back to the reality of modern times and realize that, yes, I do have washing to put on, food shopping to do and dinner to cook for my husband and all those sons!
I really hope that you enjoy reading Diana’s story, about the unlikely Earl who falls in love with her, as much as I have enjoyed being a part of their lives.
CAROLE MORTIMER
was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978, and has now written more than one hundred and fifty books for Harlequin. Carole has six sons: Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, “I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.”
With thanks to all at HMB for helping to make my dream a reality.
Chapter One
‘G
ood God, Nathaniel, what have you done to yourself?’ Lord Gabriel Faulkner, Earl of Westbourne, exclaimed with less than his usual haughty aplomb.
Gabriel had come to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the bedchamber on first sighting his friend as he lay prostrate upon the bed. Lord Nathaniel Thorne’s, Earl of Osbourne’s, face was an array of cuts and rainbow-coloured bruises; a wide bandage about the bareness of his muscled chest attested to the possibility of several ribs also being broken.
‘Begging your pardon, ma’am.’ Gabriel recovered himself enough to turn and give an apologetic bow to the lady standing in the hallway beside him.
‘Not at all, my lord,’ Mrs Gertrude Wilson, Osbourne’s aunt, dismissed briskly. ‘I suffered the same feelings of shock upon first seeing the extent of my nephew’s injuries four days ago.’
‘Would the two of you stop discussing me as if I were not here?’ The patient was obviously less than pleased with this development.
‘The physician said you are to rest, Nathaniel,’ his aunt instructed sternly before turning that same steely-eyed attention on Gabriel. ‘I will leave the two of you to talk now, my lord. But for no longer than ten minutes,’ she warned. ‘As you see, Nathaniel is more in need of peace and quiet than conversation.’ She turned back into the hallway. ‘Come along, Betsy,’ she added. ‘It is time for Hector’s walk.’
Gabriel was rendered completely mystified by this last comment until another figure stepped out from the shadows of the hallway: a young, slender girl, with ebony curls surrounding the pale oval of a face made beautiful by huge blue eyes, clutching a small white dog in her arms.
‘If I have to suffer much more of this mollycoddling I will very likely resort to wringing someone’s neck,’ Nathaniel grumbled as soon as his aunt and her companion had departed and the two gentlemen were at last left alone in the bedchamber. ‘It is so good to see you, Gabe,’ he added more warmly as he struggled to sit up, the grimace on his face evidence, despite his denials, that it was a painful business.
‘Stay where you are, man.’ Gabriel crossed to his friend’s bedside, the usual look of determination now back upon a haughtily handsome face dominated by shrewd midnight-blue eyes. Tall and dark, and dressed in a perfectly tailored black superfine, silver waistcoat and grey pantaloons above black Hessians, the Earl of Westbourne gave every appearance of being the fashionable English gentleman, despite having spent the last eight years roaming the Continent.
Osbourne relaxed back against the many pillows behind him. ‘I had thought it was your intention to go straight to Shoreley Park when you arrived from Venice, rather than come up to London, Gabe? Which begs the question—?’
‘I believe your aunt has advised that you rest, Nate,’ Gabriel murmured, arching one arrogant brow.
Osbourne scowled. ‘Having summarily removed me from my own home and into her own cloying care, I believe if my Aunt Gertrude were to have her way she would now have me tied to the bed and all visitors refused entry.’
Despite his friend’s grumbling, Gabriel realised Nate’s aunt had done the correct thing as Nate so obviously found any movement extremely painful and couldn’t fend for himself. ‘What happened to you, Nate?’ he asked as he folded his elegant length on to the chair placed beside the bed.
The other man grimaced. ‘Well, despite what you said when you first saw me, I certainly did not do this to myself.’
But having served with Osbourne in the King’s army for five years, Gabriel knew better than most how proficient Osbourne was with both sword and pistol. ‘So how did it happen then?’
‘A little…disagreement outside Dominic’s new club, with four pairs of fists and the same amount of hobnailed boots.’
‘Ah.’ Gabriel nodded. ‘And would these four sets of fists and hobnailed boots have any connection to the gossip now circulating about town concerning the sudden demise of a certain Mr Nicholas Brown?’
The other man gave him an appreciative grin. ‘You have seen Dominic, then?’ He referred to their mutual friend, Dominic Vaughn, Earl of Blackstone, who had won a gambling club called Nick’s off a rogue named Nicholas Brown, who had then tried to sabotage and threaten Dominic any way he could until Dominic had had to deal with him in no uncertain terms.
‘Unfortunately not. I called at Blackstone House on my arrival in town earlier this morning and was informed that Dominic was not at home. That he has, in fact, gone into the country for several days.’ Gabriel looked thoughtful.
The three men had been friends since their schooldays together, that friendship continuing despite Gabriel’s sudden banishment to the Continent eight years ago. He dearly hoped that Dominic’s sudden departure from town did not mean his friend was about to face the same fate after being forced to shoot dead that scoundrel Nicholas Brown…
‘It is not at all what you think, Gabe.’ Nathaniel’s grin had widened as he reached for the letter on the bedside table and handed it to the other man. ‘The authorities have accepted Dominic’s account of what took place between himself and Brown; it would appear that Dominic is even now travelling into Hampshire with the intention of visiting the family of the woman he has every intention of making his wife. Look, see what he wrote to me before he left.’
Gabriel quickly scanned the contents of the missive from their friend. A brief, unhelpful letter, obviously written in a hurry, with little real information—apart from the news that Dominic had indeed gone into Hampshire with the intention of asking permission from this woman’s guardian for the two of them to marry. ‘And who, pray, is Miss Morton?’ He placed Dominic’s letter lightly back on the bedside table.
‘An absolute beauty.’ Osbourne’s eyes lit up appreciatively. ‘Not that it was apparent immediately, of course, because of the jewelled mask and ebony wig she wore when I first saw her. But once they had been removed—’
‘She was wearing a
mask
and
wig
?’ Gabriel repeated in astonishment.
Osbourne looked less sure of himself in the face of that Gabriel’s utter incredulity. ‘She was singing at Nick’s the evening the fight broke out, and so Dom and I had no choice but to step in and—’ He broke off as Gabriel raised a silencing hand.
‘Let me see if I have understood you correctly,’ Gabriel said grimly. ‘Are you really telling me that Blackstone is about to ask for the hand in marriage of a woman who, until a short time ago, sang in a gentlemen’s gambling club disguised in a jewelled mask and ebony wig?’ His tone had gone positively icy with disapproval.
‘I—well—yes, I suppose I am…’ Osbourne confirmed uneasily.
‘Has Dominic completely taken leave of his senses? Or perhaps he also received a blow to the head from one of those fists or hobnailed boots?’ Gabriel exploded. He could envisage no other explanation for his incredibly eligible friend even contemplating proposing marriage to a singer in a gambling club—no matter how beautiful she was!
Nathaniel gave a shrug. ‘His letter says he will explain all upon his return to town.’
‘By which time it will no doubt be too late to save him from this reckless venture; no guardian of such a woman would even consider turning down an offer of marriage from an earl. In fact, I would not be at all surprised if Dominic does not return to town already married to the chit.’ Gabriel scowled his displeasure at the thought of his friend’s obvious entrapment by this “absolute beauty”.
‘I had not thought of it in quite that way.’ Nathaniel frowned his own concern. ‘She seemed very much the lady of quality when I spoke with her.’
‘My dear Nate, I may have been absent from London society for some years,’ Gabriel drawled drily, ‘but I do not believe it has changed so much that ladies of quality now seek employment in gentlemen’s gambling clubs.’
‘Hmm.’ Nathaniel considered the matter further. ‘Perhaps, as you are travelling into Hampshire yourself, you might seek Dominic out and—’
‘My original plan to go to Shoreley Park no longer stands.’ Gabriel’s mouth tightened at the thought of the conversation that had taken place earlier that morning in the offices of his lawyer, that had succeeded in altering all his plans. ‘I arrived back in England only hours ago, to find an envoy from my lawyer awaiting me upon the quayside in possession of a letter requesting that I come to town immediately and meet with him. It would appear that the three Lady Copelands—having, as you are well aware, all decided to refuse my offer of marriage—have now chosen to absent themselves from Shoreley Park completely. No doubt in anticipation of my arrival there.’
It was an occurrence that did not please Gabriel in the slightest. Insult enough that his offer of marriage to one of his wards had been refused, sight unseen, without his now being put to the trouble of having to seek out all three of the rebellious chits!
The previous two Westbourne heirs having died at Waterloo, Gabriel had surprisingly come into the title of the Earl of Westbourne six months ago, along with guardianship of the previous earl’s three unmarried daughters. In the circumstances, and as he had a complete lack of interest in taking any other woman as his wife, Gabriel had deemed it appropriate to offer marriage to one of those daughters. Not only had they all refused him, but, to add insult to injury, they had now all taken it into their heads to defy even his guardianship. A defiance Gabriel had no intention of tolerating!
‘I called upon Dominic earlier with the intention of taking him up on his offer that I stay at Blackstone House with him when I returned to town.’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘It appears, in light of his disappearance into the country, that I shall have to make Westbourne House my home, after all.’
‘It’s been closed up these past ten years,’ Nathaniel grimaced. ‘It’s nothing but a mausoleum and it’s probably full of mice and other rodents, too.’
Gabriel was well aware of the dereliction of Westbourne House. It was the very reason he had been putting off his arrival there all morning. Once he had finished talking to his lawyer he had first called upon Dominic at Blackstone House, only to learn of the other man’s disappearance into the country. A similar visit to Nathaniel’s residence had garnered the information that he was currently residing at the home of his aunt, Mrs Gertrude Wilson, meaning he couldn’t stay with him either.
‘There’s absolutely no reason why you cannot stay at Osbourne House in my absence,’ the earl assured him, as if suddenly aware of his thoughts. ‘We could have both moved back there if my aunt had not taken it into her head to remove me to the country later this afternoon.’ He looked less than happy with the arrangements. ‘Take my advice, Gabe—never let a woman get the upper hand; she’s apt to take advantage while a man’s down.’
Gabriel had no intention of allowing a woman, any woman, to take advantage of him ever again, having learnt that hard lesson only too well eight years ago…
‘Oh, I say!’ Osbourne instantly looked contrite. ‘I did not mean to imply—’
‘No implication taken, Nate, I assure you. And kind as your offer is, I fear, as I must take up residence at Westbourne House at some time, it may as well be now.’ Gabriel rose languidly to his feet. ‘I will see if I can find someone suitable to go into Hampshire and locate Dominic, and hopefully return him to his senses before it is too late,’ he added darkly.
Society, as Gabriel knew only too well, did not, and would not, ever forgive such a social indiscretion as an earl aligning himself in marriage to a woman who had previously been a singer in a gentlemen’s gambling club.
‘Now I believe it is time I took my leave—before Mrs Wilson returns and has me forcibly ejected from the premises!’ He fastidiously straightened the lace cuff of his shirt beneath his superfine.
‘Can’t see it m’self,’ his friend snorted as he rang the bell for one of the servants to escort Gabriel down the stairs. ‘My Aunt Gertrude may have me at a disadvantage for the moment, but I very much doubt she would ever have the same effect on you.’
In truth, Gabriel had found Mrs Wilson’s polite if cool attitude towards him something of a relief after the years of being shunned by society. Obviously coming into the title of earl did make a difference! ‘Think it lucky that you have a relative who feels enough affection for you to bother herself about you,’ he said drily. His own family, such as it was, had not troubled themselves to even learn of Gabriel’s whereabouts this past eight years, let alone enquire about his health.
As Gabriel travelled in his coach to Westbourne House he considered the possibility, now he was in possession of the old and much respected title of the Earl of Westbourne, with all the wealth, estates and power that title engendered, as to whether there might be a sea change in the attitude of the family that had chosen to banish him from their sight all those years ago. Even if there was, Gabriel thought coldly, he was indifferent to becoming reacquainted with any of
them
.
Gabriel’s air of studied indifference suffered a severe blow, however, when he arrived at Westbourne House some minutes later.
The front door was opened by a perfectly liveried butler who, upon enquiry, informed Gabriel, “Lady Diana is not at home at the moment, my lord, but is expected back very shortly.”
Lady Diana Copeland? One of the previous Earl of Westbourne’s rebellious daughters who was supposedly missing from home? And, if so, exactly how long had she been in residence at Westbourne House?