Sweet Surrender
Wendy May Andrews
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Sparrow Ink
www.sparrowdeck.com
Copyright © 2019 Wendy May Andrews
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, transmitted, or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN - 978-1-989634-03-5
www.wendymayandrews.com
Can a lost love be rekindled?
When Lady Julianna ended her engagement to Lord Ackerley, Viscount Beaumont, during her first Season, she left London vowing never to return.
Seven years later she returns as chaperone to her niece and unfortunately Lord Ackerley is also in Town for the Season. Rumor has it the viscount is in search of a wife. Julianna is uncomfortably aware of the handsome nobleman at nearly every Society event she attends. Moving around the small circle of the ton stirs up feelings she has kept hidden. Embarrassed and ashamed that she made a mistake in ending their previous relationship, she tries to avoid further contact. Ackerley, stunned by her second rejection, pursues her to discover the truth.
Is it ever too late for a second chance at love?
Dedication
I love the Second Chances trope. We all make mistakes, sometimes they result in the end to a relationship. But the end isn’t always permanent. This book is for those who believe in second chances. May you find your happily ever after.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to GermanCreative for my beautiful cover.
Very special thanks to my husband – the best partner life has to offer.
Chapter One
“Julianna?”
Julianna felt herself grow faint for a moment at the sound of her name spoken in that deep baritone. Despite the incredulity colouring his tone, she would recognize that voice anywhere. Of course, it was easier to handle due to the fact that she had been both expecting and dreading just such an encounter.
“Good afternoon, my lord.” Proud that her voice did not betray any of her weaknesses, she prayed that her face did not give away her reaction to his rugged, handsome features, and the air of strength about him that she had always found so attractive. Time had been kind to Viscount Beaufort. He was more handsome than ever, blasted man. Gone was any trace of youthful fleshiness. His high cheekbones were highlighted by the traces of laugh lines around his eyes — eyes that were not laughing now. Their grey depths were blocks of ice.
During their previous association, one of the things that had attracted her to him was his size. She had enjoyed feeling dainty and feminine next to his athletic build. Now it felt as though he towered over her, and she felt it put her at a disadvantage. Julianna tried to ignore the sensation.
“Rumour had it that you vowed never to return to London and yet here you are.”
Julianna wanted to cringe at the coolness in his voice but managed to contain her reaction. Offering a polite, cool smile of her own, she wished fervently that she had remained inside the fripperies shop with her niece and their maid instead of escaping to the busy street for a break from the tedium of shopping. She had thought the cool air of the spring afternoon would be a relief. It would have been if she had remained alone.
“Yes, I had made that vow in my youthful haste, but the need has arisen to be here, so here I am.”
“Are you here for the Season?” he asked, or rather demanded, his tone turning fierce and his arctic gaze sharpening to scrutinise her.
His almost insolent examination made her wish she were wearing some of her newly acquired finery instead of a less than fashionable, though still serviceable, frock. She was glad that her maid had at least taken pains with her hair before she left the house for the day. She had to remind herself quickly of his question in order to answer him hoping she would not appear a simpleton at the delay.
“I am,” she answered simply but then felt compelled to elaborate. “My niece is here for her debut, and I am to be her chaperone.”
It would seem the viscount could not keep the incredulity from returning to his face. “You are going to chaperone your niece?” he asked with unmistakable emphasis on the “you” as though he considered her completely inappropriate for such a role.
Julianna squelched her residual feelings of anger and attraction toward him, maintaining her dignity with an effort of will. “That is correct, my lord. So no doubt I shall see you about. I wish you a good afternoon. I must return to my niece.”
With those coolly uttered words, Julianna turned her back on her former fiancé and returned to the shop. As the door closed behind her with a small tinkle of the bell, she braced herself against the wall in order to rally her senses and bring the frantic beat of her heart under control.
Rolling her eyes heavenward she asked herself rhetorically, Why does a man I vowed to hate forever have to be the only one who causes this reaction? It is nonsensical! And I will not have it.
Pasting a smile upon her face, she entered fully into the shop and collected her niece and their purchases.
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As she stood in the foyer awaiting the return of the footman, she felt the events of the previous day chasing around in her head. She ground her teeth in frustration and pushed the memory to the back of her mind as she braced herself for a confrontation of another kind. The footman beckoned for her to accompany him.
“I am quite certain I told you never to darken my doors again.” Agatha, the Dowager Duchess of Westerley, spoke in a hard, cold voice as she stared down her perfectly straight nose at the young woman before her.
Lady Julianna felt the blood drain from her face, and a wave of nausea washed over her. In her mind’s eye, she went back seven years to that awful moment when her grandmother had originally uttered those words. Julianna’s hand instinctively reached toward her throat and the locket concealed by her modest neckline, seeking comfort from the familiar charm. Memories of the darkest period in her life flowed over her. Too much drama squeezed into such a short time, and she had been far too young to handle it all.
On that distressing evening seven years prior, Julianna had burst into this very same sitting room with tears streaming down her cheeks. The duchess, unused to emotional outbursts in her presence, had been shocked and initially expressed concern.
“Julianna, what has happened? Why are you not at the Roxboroughs’ ball? Are you all right? Have you fallen ill?”
“No, I am not all right, Grandmother. I am no longer engaged to marry Viscount Beaufort,” Julianna declared with the dramatic flair of a seventeen-year-old.
Confused, the haughty old woman, stood straight and proud, gazing at her granddaughter. “What are you talking about? Of course you are engaged to Beaufort.”
There was a momentary pause while the older woman’s face paled and she came to the brink of anger. “He has not behaved the cad with you has he?”
“No, he has always been the perfect gentleman with me,” Julianna said with weary emphasis. Gazing at her grandmother with warring emotions clearly displayed on her face, Julianna almost backed down in the face of the Duchess’ withering disapproval. She hated to disappoint anyone, but with a valiant force of will, she straightened her backbone even more.
Julianna cleared her throat almost delicately. She had stemmed the flow of her tears and now angled her chin proudly and managed to speak in a stronger tone. “I do not wish to discu
ss this. I have already informed the viscount, and now I am telling you. I have realized he is a philanderer, and we shall not suit. Now, may I please go to my room?”
A loud knocking resonated throughout the stately mansion. The duchess looked on in bewilderment as Julianna ran to the door of the sitting room and yelled to the butler in an uncharacteristic display of emotion and lack of grace.
“George, do not allow Lord Ackerley in. I absolutely refuse to see him.” Her usual dulcet tones echoed shrilly off the high ceiling. “He is never to enter this house again.”
The duchess found her voice again. “What is the meaning of this, Julianna?”
“I have ended my engagement to Lord Ackerley and I do not wish to ever see him for the rest of my days!”
“What happened to cause such a rupture?” the Dowager asked, still unclear on this sudden change.
“I do not wish to discuss it.” Julianna struggled to maintain her uncharacteristic defiance. “We just shall not suit.”
“I do not understand you. You must tell me what has taken place. You have seemed perfectly happy with the arrangements these past two weeks. What could have possibly happened at the Roxborough ball to cause you to suddenly change your mind?”
“I do not wish to discuss the matter.” Julianna insisted once more before pausing. She lowered her vehemence toward the duchess and found a respectful tone. “Please, Grandmother, do not try to talk me into it or ask me to discuss it. It is just too painful.”
“This is incomprehensible and unacceptable, young lady.” The duchess paused momentarily. “You cannot expect me to accept your broken engagement with no explanation.”
Julianna remained rigid and mute, but tears of distress streamed down her cheeks. The duchess pressed on, hoping to bring reason to the normally biddable and sensible youngster.
“My lawyers and I have been working hard on all the details with the viscount as to marriage portions. The paperwork is nearly complete. I will not be made a laughingstock. Where is your loyalty, girl?”
Julianna blanched at the thought of disappointing her grandmother.
“Grandmother, please,” she persisted in pleading tones. “You know family is the most important thing to me. You must realize I would not do this frivolously. Please do not press me. I stand by my decision.” There was a note of finality in her voice, and her firm little chin rose again to a proud angle.
“I will not listen to this defiance,” declared the duchess despite her hesitation to hurt her beloved granddaughter.
Julianna loved the duchess but refused to be cowed. “My parents always said I would be allowed to choose my own husband. I do not choose Lord Ackerley!”
The Dowager Duchess of Westerley gave up trying to reason with her granddaughter and gave her final word on the subject. “Your hen-witted parents may have said you would be allowed to choose your husband, but they are no longer here. No one under my roof is going to bring shame on the Templeton name or on the House of Westerley.” Her haughtiness rose in a final attempt to make her normally biddable granddaughter submit to her will. “If you refuse to marry the viscount and refuse to explain yourself, then you are no longer welcome in this house.”
Julianna raised her luminous, tear-filled face and looked her grandmother straight in the eye. Agatha appeared profoundly surprised. “If that is your wish, I will leave at first light. I never wish to set foot in London again after this horrendous night.”
“But you have nowhere to go, you foolish girl,” the duchess almost pleaded, still expecting her granddaughter to crumble.
Julianna pulled a crumpled page from her pocket with a slight flourish. “As a matter of fact, I do have somewhere to go. Hartford, writes that Lucretia is terribly ill, struggling to bear him another child. It was such a delightful surprise to find out she was increasing, but now her illness has the household in an uproar. While he would never ask me to leave the Season in order to help, I am sure he will be happy to have me home to help the governess keep the children entertained and out of his wife’s sickroom.” Her defiance returned. “He will not turn me away!”
Julianna paused while struggling to regain a modicum of composure. “Since it is already such an advanced hour, I trust you will not put me out until morning. Good night, Grandmother.” The overwrought young woman fled from her grandmother’s presence, pounded up the stairs, and slammed the door to her room.
Now, seven years later, with the memory of their last encounter almost echoing in the room, Julianna tried valiantly not to quake as she stood her ground. She held her chin at a proud angle, unaware of her resemblance to the haughty old dame despite her heated cheeks. She waited calmly until the footman discreetly closed the door before she gracefully dipped into an elegant curtsy. “Hello, Grandmother, it is a pleasure to see you, too.”
The duchess’ flinty eyes warmed ever so slightly at her granddaughter’s cheeky reply, but she would not allow herself to relent, continuing to glare at the rebellious young woman.
Julianna sighed with resignation as she arose from her respectful stance and acknowledged the older lady’s original statement. “Yes, Grandmother, you did say I was never to return, but I thought it best to tell you in person that I shall be in London for a time. Odelia is here for her Season, so I must be as well.”
“And why could Hartford not inform me of this development himself? Should I not be included in my great-granddaughter’s debut into Society?”
A flurry of emotions flitted through her consciousness that she hoped didn’t show on her face as she strove for a tactful, yet true, answer. Hart had said that only over his own dead body would his grandmother have any say in his daughter’s debut. It would not do to tell the Duchess such a thing. The truth was that Julianna didn’t want her grandmother to publicly shun Odelia just because she was angry with Julianna. She loved her grandmother dearly despite their history but would not put it past the cantankerous old lady to do such a thing. Loyalty to both the duchess and Odelia had prompted Julianna to beard the old lady in her den.
Julianna hit upon just the right angle of explanation. “The earl has come up to Town with us, but he is a bit put out by all the uproar required for Odelia’s come out and I must admit he has escaped to his club. I did not think you would be most pleased to hear about our arrival from someone else, nor would a note have been sufficient.”
Finally the old duchess smiled with a hint of warmth and she looked with some admiration at the young woman before her. “You just did not wish to face me in public for fear I would make a scene and ruin your niece’s chances.”
Julianna allowed a grin to break over her face. “No, your grace, I can honestly say I would never consider you capable of making a scene. The cut direct, perhaps, but not a scene.”
Finally Agatha appeared mollified, at least for the time being, and let a chuckle escape from her thin lips. “I did tell you never to come here, but I suppose you did the right thing. You are correct, it would have been completely inappropriate to hear of your arrival from someone other than family, although you could have written me a letter in advance,” she concluded reprovingly.
“True, but I learned from the best to never give away the advantage,” Julianna reminded her gently, relieved to have weathered the storm and feeling somewhat more familiar with her relative. The younger woman knew not to relax completely, though, and was glad for her vigilance when her grandmother continued the interrogation.
“Are you not concerned that your tarnished reputation will harm your niece’s chances?” asked the duchess not unkindly. “No doubt it would have been best for me to undertake to sponsor the young lady.”
The duchess had unknowingly touched on one of Julianna’s biggest concerns, but she managed to maintain her composure. “Well, Grandmother, you did not make such an offer to Odelia, and she has now reached the age to make her debut. And no, I do not worry about my tarnished reputation,” was Julianna’s flat response before she elaborated.
“I must admit that
it did cross my mind when Hart first proposed that I should be the one to chaperone Odelia for her Season. But while you were willing to banish me, I was quite sure you would not have allowed scandal to attach itself to anyone under your name, so I am fairly certain I need not worry about my reputation. And while at the time my hasty departure from Town at the height of the Season might have been considered a touch irregular, the strength of my position as your granddaughter and the sister of the Earl of Somerton should smooth over any awkwardness with even the highest sticklers.” Julianna concluded this last statement with a small, crooked smile at her grandmother.
She then continued on a more pensive note. “There is also the fact that while Odelia is quite pretty and will no doubt take, she will not be a diamond, so there should not be any viciously jealous mamas looking to discredit her by dredging up my past.”
The duchess nodded, seeming to agree with the soundness of her granddaughter’s reasoning. She was then struck with a disquieting thought. “If I agree to acknowledge you, you will not now be expecting me to sponsor her, will you?” she demanded abruptly with a degree of alarm despite her previous statement that it would be better if she brought out the young lady herself.
“No, Grandmother,” Julianna laughed lightly. “That thought did not even cross my mind. Between Hart and I, we should be able to manage launching her rather successfully on our own merit. I have kept in touch with a couple of my old friends through the years, and they are willing to lend a hand since their children are much too young to be about in Society. One dear friend, in particular, is quite close with one of the patronesses and has promised us vouchers for Almack’s which is quite a coup, or so I have been told.” Julianna allowed a slight sigh to escape as she thought of the upcoming busy activities of the next several weeks.
Sweet Surrender (Ladies of Mayfair Book 3) Page 1
