The Way to Capture a Marquess's Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  All he wished to know was how Alice fared, if she was well. Yes, the need to scold him was great, but he had settled in his mind that he would not attack the man. There was still the possibility of becoming his son-in-law, thus scolding him would have caused further challenges for him.

  He did not like the man, his scruples left much to be desired. However, he was Alice's father and should be respected, despite his questionable actions.

  There was no use in embracing his anger in an attempt to cover his shame. The man was at fault, but one misdeed did not cancel another man's actions. The truth was that he should have spoken to Alice about their arranged marriage the moment he was informed about it. Then, he could have truly wielded the innocent card, exonerating himself of his father's actions. His silence became his downfall.

  It seemed a year and a day by the time he made his way into the parlour. So many thoughts had passed through his head, moving with lethal swiftness. There was no escaping them. They needed to be addressed. Yet, how could he address them if he could not find a solution? If their fathers were intent on getting them married, then Alice would have no choice as a woman under her father's care. He may refuse her, but that might pose a greater problem for her in the future. However, if he did marry her, she would hate him. Where was the solution in that? If he could not speak with Alice and explain himself, then much unhappiness awaited them in both a married and unwed state.

  “Lord Shore, Mr Norton is here to see you.”

  Luke blinked. He still stood in the centre of the room, having not moved any further to sit down. Had his thoughts so consumed him that he lost time even while standing?

  “Lord Shore?” the servant repeated.

  Norton was here. Perhaps he would be able to shed some much-needed light on the situation. Luke turned his body to the doorway, nodding at the servant. “Show him in.”

  Luke poured himself and Norton some wine, knowing that his friend was partial to the French brand he carried in the house. As he walked in, Luke handed him the drink. "I have not seen you in some time, Norton, where have you been hiding?"

  “Well, that's a greeting I am not accustomed to. Thank you for the drink, I was hoping you had this brand.”

  “See? I know you too well, and you have not been here in some time. It is only natural for me to ask about your whereabouts.”

  “If you must know, I have spent my days equally with my patients and Violet.”

  They took their seats, placing their glasses on the table between them. It was one of the pieces of furniture his mother had acquired during her brief marriage to his father. Mahogany, with ivory finishes and touches of gold. It had been but one of many luxury items of furniture his father had bought to please her. If only he had known that no amount of pampering was going to make her stay. Luke had taken the piece after Suzanna had begun to throw out anything that she disliked, and that meant everything that his mother had received to decorate her marital home. There were a few more dotted about the house, the only link he had to his mother.

  Luke was interested when Norton mentioned Violet. “Have you been to her house?”

  "Yes, and before you ask me, I have not seen Alice."

  Luke deflated a bit. “Oh, all right. Has a date been set for your upcoming nuptials?”

  “This is not like you to leave a subject so quickly, Shore. Will you not ask me anything about Alice?”

  “If you have not seen her, what is there to ask?”

  “Where have you left your mind, old friend? Violet is Alice's sister. Do you not think that she would share something with me?”

  No, oddly he had not thought of that. He was more under the hatches than he realised. “What has Violet said to you?”

  "That her sister is in the same state as you, but perhaps her condition is worse. She collapsed from what the physician described as stress."

  Fear coursed through his veins. Alice had collapsed? Had his actions so adversely affected her? “Has she recovered?” He struggled to form the words, his tongue having turned to cotton. It bounced against his palette as he spoke, compromising the clarity of his words.

  Thankfully, Norton did not concentrate on the execution, but the question itself. "Yes, remarkably well, according to Violet. She has steadfastly refused to speak to anyone, although she did leave her room at one point."

  “She has locked herself in her room?”

  “Not so much as locked herself in as refused to leave it. Violet told me of her first heartbreak, which I believe has worsened her feelings towards you. Turns out the man left Alice for another woman.”

  Luke had forgotten about Henry Tottenham. Of course she would feel that history had repeated itself. What a cad he was. How much better was he than the scoundrel? Although he had not jilted her for another, he had still deceived her. It did not matter that he did not mean to, what mattered was that he did.

  "You know the man, Norton. He married Bordeaux's daughter."

  “Goodness, it is a small world. Violet never revealed the name of the man, but I have certainly heard of Tottenham. He is happily married. I hear that his wife is due to have their child in a matter of weeks. The midwife whom I call for births is the very same one who shall be present for the birth of the Tottenham child.”

  "I am not happy about the manner in which he hurt Alice, but I am thankful that he did not marry her. Norton, I believe that Alice is the woman for me. She is the only one to have made me consider marriage, and there is none other with whom I would like to spend my life. If only I had not remained silent about this mess."

  “I know you, Shore. You would not have done so unless there was reason.”

  “Yes, but Alice does not know me well enough to understand that. I was hoping to court her, have her come to know me. But that foolish woman revealed the truth about the situation before I had figured out a way to tell her. I hope I never see that woman again. She has caused me enough trouble to last a lifetime.”

  “I hear that Miss Charpentier has not left her home since that evening. Perhaps she feels remorse for her actions.”

  Luke rolled his eyes. “Do not speak to me of that woman, Norton. How is it that you know this? I was not aware that you knew her. No, do not tell me – I do not wish to hear anything about her.”

  What he would like to do was forget that such a woman ever existed. She had been a thorn in his side from the moment he had met her at the garden party hosted by his stepmother. Suzanna had been the one to introduce them, pushing him to speak with the woman. Judging from her recent actions, Luke had a feeling that she had initiated the meeting with the express purpose of marrying him. Miss Charpentier did not come close to Alice in his eyes, if only she had realised that early on. How could he solely lay the blame on her when he was the one who failed to speak the truth?

  “What do you plan to do about the situation? Alice refuses to see anyone, her family included. She has spoken to Violet here and there, but one could count on their one hand the number of times she has shown her face to her parents. You are certainly on her list of people to avoid at all cost.”

  Luke closed his eyes, despairing of his chances to win Alice over. “If there was one way to dampen a man's hope, Norton, you have found it.”

  "I do not mean to discourage but to help you. You certainly cannot take the direct approach and try to see her – Violet has told me about your failed visit to the house. You need to find alternative solutions, Shore."

  His eyes opened. "I was hoping that you would be able to help me there, Norton. I need an outsider to offer me fresh perspective."

  “Well, although the best, talking is not the only form of communication available to you, Shore. You are an intelligent man, surely you can think of another way?”

  Norton was right, talking was not the only way. Which other form would produce the results he needed? “A letter?” he said more to himself.

  “A letter sounds good, but how will you convince Alice to read it?”

  Alice would likely throw
his letter in the waste bin or into the fireplace. Perhaps a letter was not the best idea. But what about her sister? “If I give it to Violet, she may be able to convince her sister.”

  Norton looked at him thoughtfully, scratching his chin. If his friend did not agree with his plan, then Luke would have to think of another, but what? He did not want to do anything that would cause a scene, such as a public declaration of love, although he was open to doing so. It may just be his last option.

  “That is an option,” Norton began. “Provided that Violet is able to do so. Alice has not been the most responsive of persons these days past. However, a letter sounds more probable than trying to speak with her.”

  “Do you think I should go ahead with it? Perhaps I can write two letters, one for Violet and the other for Alice. When I hoped to see Alice some days ago, I managed to speak to Violet for but a short moment before her mother asked me to leave. I wished to explain the situation to her but could not adequately do so. A letter would be my chance to do so.”

  “This plan sounds better as you fill out the details, Shore. I have spoken to Violet concerning this challenging circumstance, but it will be better if you personally send her a letter. I do believe that she will wholeheartedly vouch for you.”

  Violet and Alice were close. If she could not convince her sister, then no one could.

  "If, or rather I should say when, Violet agrees to help me, she will hopefully convince Alice to read the letter that I shall write to her. In it, I shall explain to her that I love her without reservation, that it was never my wish to hurt her as I did. I believe that I should explain everything from the very beginning, the moment that we met at the ball. I need her to understand that the arranged marriage had no bearing on my love for her.”

  “Shore, there is no use in explaining all this to me – I already know of your feelings for Alice. Best you get your paper and pen and begin those letters while I ask the cook to rustle up something tasty for me – I am famished.” Norton stood up, cracking his neck as he moved it from side to side.

  Luke lifted an eyebrow. "Why is it that you suddenly become famished when visiting me? Do you purposefully leave your home hungry? And must you make those awful cracks with your neck? They set my teeth on edge."

  “You have one of the best cooks in London, why not use that to my advantage? Also, my neck is stiff from bending over patients all day long.”

  “Will you keep the same hours once you are married?”

  Norton shook his head. "It would not be the right thing to do as Violet deserves my attention as well. While I shall still keep my practice open, I am thinking about bringing in another physician to take the overflow of patients. If I cannot find one, then I shall pay for one of the young chaps to go through training. There are plenty that do not want hard labour for the rest of their lives, and if I can find the right young man, it can be beneficial to both of us."

  "It seems that you have everything figured out for the future, Norton. If only I were in the same boat as you."

  Norton came to him, clasping his shoulder. “Cheer up, old chap. Alice may be angry and hurt at the moment, but I do not believe that she is unreasonable. She will come around, remain patient.”

  "You are either optimistic for my sake, or you genuinely believe that Alice will forgive me."

  “A woman cannot be this livid if she did not love the man. Be patient, Shore.”

  Could Norton be right? It was difficult to see the positive when he had not seen Alice in many days. Had her father spoken to her about the arranged marriage? Lord Campbell had used his daughter as a scapegoat. If he had not told her that the marriage arrangement still stood, then he surely would quite soon. By now, everyone had heard about the arrangement, and they were waiting with bated breath to see what would happen. Luke was not concerned about them, he only wished to know what Alice had to say about it all.

  “Go and have your meal, Norton, I have letters to write.”

  ***

  As Luke poured out his heart into the letters, he was oblivious to the setting sun. Only when a servant lit the lamp in his study did he realise that he was near squinting his eyes, trying to see the words he was writing.

  “Brummel, has Mr Norton left?”

  “No, My Lord, he has decided to stay. He says that he wishes to be here until your favourable outcome takes place. I am not at all certain what he means, My Lord, but I have organised his usual guestroom to be aired out and prepared for him.”

  Luke should have known that Norton would not leave him during his hour of need. These next few days would determine the direction his future would take, his friend knew that. “Very good, Brummel. I shall take my dinner in my study this evening.”

  Brummel bowed, closing the door as he left. Luke could not leave his study until he was absolutely sure that the letters before him contained everything he needed the Campbell sisters to know. Each word, sentence and paragraph needed to be perfect. And if he had to spend the whole night writing and re-writing them, he would gladly do so. Tomorrow, he would personally deliver these letters to the Campbell residence, and then there would be nothing else that he could do.

  ***

  Rose did not recognise the woman staring back at her in the mirror, and she should know as she had spent at least two hours in front of the mirror every day. The consequences of her actions had taken a terrible toll on her, and she knew not what to do. Madness, that was all she could describe it as.

  Grandmother Charpentier had been right to worry about her, she had been right all along. Only Rose was too absorbed in her own ambition to heed her warning.

  She touched her face, grimacing at the dark lines beneath her eyes. Tiny lines had appeared around her mouth, or was she imagining it? Rose peered closely, touching her pale skin. Gone was the rosy tint she was well-known for. She was as pale as the winter snow.

  “Much like Alice,” she said bitterly. “Only her skin is beautiful and ethereal, while my skin has the look of death about it.”

  She might as well be dead for all the trouble she had caused. Her father and grandmother had yet to hear of what had happened, but what would she do once the truth reached their ears? Rose winced to think of it. They would be disappointed, and then what would she do? Had they not threatened to take me to my family in France at the first hint of a scandal? She did not belong in France. She belonged on English soil!

  What a mess she had made of everything. She had damned herself, and she knew it well. Not a morsel of food except a little tea and a slice of buttered bread had passed her lips since that evening, as her appetite had quite deserted her. The thought of food churned her stomach, adding to the headache she had continued to endure for days past.

  Rose had warned the servants to speak nothing of her ailment to her father and grandmother. It was fortunate that they were so engrossed in their daily activities that they paid her no mind. Her father had a seat in parliament, and her grandmother had seen the plight of women and children in London, deciding upon a plan of action to help them. They both had been absent from the dinner table for some time, giving her the time she needed to devise a way out of the mess she had made.

  Alice and Luke surely hated her. She could not even begin to think of what the others thought of her. Had it been so wrong to be ambitious? To want the very best for her future? Did she not deserve it as well as any other woman?

  Life had dealt her a heavy blow when it wrenched her mother away from her at such a tender age. Grandmother Charpentier had tried her best to fulfil the absent role of her mother, but it could never truly be the same. A mother's love for her daughter was a particular thing, a strong bond very much different from any other relationship a person could have. A mother not only nurtured you in her womb, she continued to do so throughout one's life. Rose did not have the opportunity to have her mother guide her through every milestone in her life, to advise and warn her of the challenges and hardships ahead for every woman of a marriageable age. There were no joyful trips to th
e seamstress for dresses, a mother's hand upon her head to soothe her, the tender voice a mother provided for a pained heart...