Hopes and Brides: Regency and Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  “Just ‘Marchmont’ will do, Ophelia.”

  Her name on his lips sent her heart soaring to the skies and before she could prevent herself, Ophelia leaned into him, wanting his arm around her as it had been last evening. Lord Marchmont obliged at once, a happy sigh escaping from her mouth as he did so.

  “I confess that I feel somewhat guilty that I did not propose to you as I ought to have done,” Lord Marchmont murmured, her head resting on his shoulder as their slow steps took them towards a wooden bench near a trellis of roses. “Perhaps I should do so now, Ophelia, if you would permit me?”

  Her head lifted as he took a step away from her, her hands trembling suddenly as he captured them both in his, coming around to face her. She swallowed hard, her heart beating furiously as he looked down into her face.

  “Ophelia, I confess to you that my heart is yours,” he said tenderly, his fingers pressing hers. “I have not known any such emotions as this before, nor did I ever expect to feel such things. When we first began to court, I believed you to be entirely unsuitable for me, thinking that we were both markedly different in our character and temperament.” His smile was gentle, his eyes filled with longing. “Even though the course of us returning to our courtship was not one I had planned or found agreeable, I confess that I discovered that you were truly a lady to be admired. Your strength of character, your determination, and your intelligence have captured me, Ophelia. Truly, you are the most remarkable young lady of my acquaintance and I am privileged to call you my own.”

  Ophelia closed her eyes against the rush of joyful tears that threatened, her hands reaching up to press lightly against Lord Marchmont’s chest. “Your company and presence have made me realize that is it often best to consider what I say before I say it,” she admitted, looking up at him now that the threat of tears had passed. “You accept my faults without question.”

  “As you do mine,” he said firmly, letting go of her hand so that he might reach up to cup her cheek. “You listened to my excuses for not speaking the truth to you from the start and forgave my foolishness without question. The strength you showed in working alongside me to determine the truth quite took my breath from me. You are intelligent, wise, and courageous. Your beauty shines out from you and I am captured by it.”

  Ophelia swallowed the lump in her throat that had formed with his tender words and reached up to cup his face with both hands. “And I have discovered that you are a gentleman with such consideration and care for those that are close to you that I could not help but give my heart to you,” she told him, feeling him wrap his arms about her waist and draw her closer. “Your concern for your brother was so great that you could not help but do whatever was necessary to keep him safe. You showed great kindness towards Lord Whitfield, even though he did you a great wrong. You might easily have broken our betrothal in order that he might feel the full weight of his own foolishness, but you did not.”

  Lord Marchmont shook his head. “I could not,” he said fervently, his hands about her waist now as he drew her closer to him than ever before. “I could not imagine being separated from you, Ophelia, not even for a moment. To break our engagement simply to punish Lord Whitfield was not in my power. My heart would not allow it. It could not allow me to do so. You have become so dear to me, Ophelia, that my whole being is filled with an abiding love that will never leave me.”

  Her breath caught, her eyes widening as she looked up into his face and saw the truth in his eyes. He loved her. Lord Marchmont loved her in the same way that she loved him.

  “You must know that I feel the same love for you,” she whispered, unable to keep the words from her lips. “I love you with my whole heart, Marchmont. I did not think that I should ever feel such a depth of affection, did not ever believe that I should feel myself so drawn to you, but it is now as though we are bound together. When you depart from me, my heart longs for you, burning through me with a pain that is only relieved when you return.”

  Lord Marchmont lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers carefully. His eyes closed, his breath brushing across her cheek. “You have my love from this day onwards, Ophelia,” he promised. “I shall never leave your side from the day that we wed. I shall be your constant, the one that you can always depend on. I will love you with everything that is within me, sharing each moment with you and allowing the love between us to blossom into something that grows more beautiful with every passing day.”

  For once, Ophelia did not know what to say, her words gone from her mouth as Lord Marchmont leaned down and captured her lips with his. She leaned into him, feeling their hearts beat with one shared love that she knew would never leave them. A great mystery had brought them together, but now they were about to step into another—the mystery of love.

  Bewildered Earl

  Brides of London

  Prologue

  “Lord Kingsley, I must not!”

  Miss Henrietta Preston blushed furiously as Lord Kingsley inclined his head, his eyes gleaming as he continued to look at her.

  “A short stroll around the gardens cannot be too much to ask, surely?” he murmured, looking at her in a beseeching fashion. “It is much too busy for anyone to notice; I am quite certain of it.”

  Again, Henrietta felt her cheeks burn with color, her defenses slowly diminishing as she looked up at the handsome face of Lord Kingsley and felt quite overawed that he would be interested in escorting her around the gardens. He was quite right, she supposed. It was very busy this evening and, most likely, they would not be missed. Her mother, Lady Cuthbert, would not even notice she was gone, given that she was already a terrible chaperone and cared very little for what Henrietta did. Henrietta had, of course, always sought to behave with propriety and yet could not help but feel Lord Kingsley’s presence and interest in her battling against the urge to always do what was right.

  “We will be but a few minutes,” Lord Kingsley said softly, offering her his arm and allowing his gaze to soften as he looked back at her. “There will be nothing untoward, I assure you.”

  Henrietta let out a small sigh and then smiled at him, wondering whether or not Lord Kingsley intended something more from this short walk together than merely stepping out for a time. Mayhap he would ask to court her. Mayhap he would ask for even more than that. After all, he had been rather attentive the last few days—to the point that Henrietta had begun to hope, beyond all hope, that she might mean something to the gentleman.

  “Very well,” she said, seeing how his face lit up with a grin as she spoke. “But only for a few short minutes, Lord Kingsley.” The warning in her heart began to rise up within her as she settled her hand on his arm, but Henrietta dashed it away with barely even another thought. Lord Kingsley could be trusted, could he not? He had been very attentive towards her and she did not think there was anything about his character that was of concern. He would return her to the ballroom within a few minutes, just as he had said, and all would be well.

  However, within a few minutes, Henrietta was regretting her trust in Lord Kingsley. He had taken her from the path and had walked with her to a darker part of the gardens, making her slippered feet quite wet from walking in the damp grass. He had not asked her to walk with him that way but had simply led her from the path, clearly believing that she would accept him without question. When she had tried to question it, he had merely laughed and settled his hand over hers as it rested on his arm, effectively trapping her there.

  Henrietta was afraid.

  “I want to return to the ballroom now, Lord Kingsley,” she said, somewhat unsteadily, as she tried to pull her hand away. “I do not have any intention of—”

  Before she could finish, however, Lord Kingsley had chuckled, turned around, and caught her up in his arms, lowering his head and trying to capture her lips with his. Henrietta tensed at once, feeling his lips press hers but having none of the joy or excitement she had thought she might feel at such an experience. Instead, she felt nothing but fear, wanting to s
tep back out of his arms but feeling quite lifeless, quite weak, and, therefore, entirely unable to do so. It was only when Lord Kingsley lifted his head that Henrietta felt a modicum of strength return to her limbs and she stepped back, forcing Lord Kingsley to drop one of his hands although the other hand snagged her wrist.

  “I am not that sort of lady, Lord Kingsley,” she stammered, feeling sweat run down her spine as she battled against her fear. “Unhand me at once.”

  Lord Kingsley did nothing of the sort. Instead, he merely chuckled and tugged her back towards him, even though she fought to release herself from his grip. Henrietta, suddenly deeply afraid of the gentleman, pulled herself away as hard as she could, her breath coming in quick, short gasps, but Lord Kingsley only chuckled again, evidently taking great delight in her fear. Her skin grew clammy, her mind screaming with a deep sense of panic that made her heart hammer.

  “What is going on here?”

  Another voice cut through the gloom, making Henrietta’s skin prickle with fright.

  “Ah, Lady Starling!” Lord Kingsley did not appear to be in any way disconcerted by the appearance of the lady, who came to stand next to Henrietta. She looked down at Henrietta’s hand, held captive by Lord Kingsley, before looking up at the gentleman himself. “I recognized your voice at once, my dear lady. Do not fear for Miss Preston. She has come quite willingly.”

  “I am not willing to remain,” Henrietta exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly. “I do not have any intention of remaining here, Lord Kingsley. You know very well that I wish to leave your side. This was not what I thought your intentions were when we first—”

  “I believe the lady has made her requirements quite clear, Lord Kingsley,” Lady Starling interrupted, her very presence reassuring Henrietta. “Do allow her to depart from you and might I suggest that, thereafter, you find someone who is a good deal more willing to remain here with you than this poor creature, whom you have evidently terrified with your much too forward advances.”

  Henrietta staggered back as Lord Kingsley let go of her hand, swamped with relief and thankfulness towards this Lady Starling. Nothing more was said between herself and Lord Kingsley, for he simply let out a harsh laugh and turned away, walking through the darkness towards the ballroom again.

  “I—I cannot express the depths of my gratitude,” Henrietta breathed, her hand pressed against her heart as she heard herself gasping for air. “If you had not discovered us, then I fear that…” She closed her eyes and shuddered visibly, not even questioning for a moment how the lady had managed to find both herself and Lord Kingsley in what was a very dark part of the gardens. Mayhap God Himself had sent the lady to her, knowing her trouble and knowing that she needed to be rescued from her own foolishness.

  That relief was shattered the very next moment.

  “I shall keep what I have seen to myself, of course,” Lady Starling said firmly, her sharp voice cutting through the darkness towards Henrietta. “But you shall have to do something for me in exchange, Miss Preston.”

  Henrietta stared at the lady in the gloom, only just able to make out her expression in the moonlight as it cut through the tree branches over their heads.

  “In fact, you shall do whatever I wish, whenever I wish it of you,” Lady Starling continued calmly, as though she were quite used to making such demands and thought nothing of it. “Do you understand, Miss Preston?”

  Henrietta could only stare at the lady, slowly beginning to realize that mayhap there had been more to Lord Kingsley’s attentions than she had first been aware of.

  “Do you understand me, Miss Preston?” Lady Starling asked again, her voice sharp and her eyes narrowing. “I cannot return you to the ball unless I have your agreement. You know what will occur if you refuse me.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat and battling the tears that came to her eyes, Henrietta tried to speak. “You intend to tell my mother of what I have done if I do not,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud. “Is that not so?”

  Lady Starling laughed softly, shaking her head, and for a moment, Henrietta wondered if she had mistaken the lady’s intentions.

  “No, not your mother, my dear girl,” Lady Starling replied with a wave of her hand. “The entirety of the beau monde!” She laughed again as Henrietta doubled over, feeling as though she had been struck hard in the stomach. “The ton shall know of your foolishness this night and you shall be quite ruined. That is, of course, unless you agree to do as I ask you whenever I ask it of you, Miss Preston. Only that way can you be guaranteed my continued silence on the matter.”

  “Then you have it,” Henrietta replied faintly, seeing no other way out of her dreadful situation. “I agree, Lady Starling.” Her cheeks grew hot, her whole body burning with shame as she looked down at her feet, realizing that Lord Kingsley and Lady Starling had been working together in order to arrange such a thing. He had not had any particular interest in her. Instead, he had used flattery to encourage her and she had stepped forward into his embrace with barely a second thought.

  “Very good,” Lady Starling said with a hint of sweetness that sickened Henrietta. “Now, come along, Miss Preston. I shall return you to the ball and to your mother and no one will know of what has occurred here this evening. And I thank you for your assistance in this matter. It has all worked out rather well, do you not think?”

  Henrietta could not bring herself to say anything. Instead, she remained silent as she walked alongside Lady Starling, her shame burning furiously through her. She had been taken advantage of, had been caught by flattery and the desperate hope that a gentleman of quality was interested in her, and now she had been left with nothing more than mortification and embarrassment. Her head low, Henrietta made her way back to the path, each step heavier than before. She had been utterly foolish and now she was to pay the price for her idiocy. Lady Starling held her head high as she walked, whilst Henrietta’s head sank all the lower. There was no way out from this now. She would have to do as Lady Starling asked, whenever it was asked of her, no matter what it might be.

  There was no way out.

  1

  Two years later

  “You know what is expected of you this Season, Henrietta.”

  Henrietta nodded slowly, looking out of the window and feeling her heart lifting just a little at the sight of the London street below her. It had been two years since she had last been in London, two years of having her mother and father repeatedly go over what had occurred and just how foolish she had been, and two years of her continuing to agree with every word that they had said. Sighing heavily, Henrietta passed one hand over her eyes and tried not to allow that same, clinging fear to bite at her heart once more.

  Some two years ago, Lady Starling had, in fact, used Henrietta for her own devices. It had turned out to be a matter of the worst sort, leaving Henrietta dreadfully frightened but still forced to be obedient. When the truth had come out, Henrietta had been required to speak of the whole thing in its entirety, going right back to when Lord Kingsley had tried to press his advantage and Lady Starling had first come to her aid.

  Unfortunately, that had meant her mother, Lady Cuthbert, became aware of all that had occurred and this, of course, had brought the lady a good deal of distress. Horrified by what her daughter had done and what shame she had almost brought upon the family name, Lady Cuthbert had not allowed Henrietta to remain in London for the rest of the Season but had brought her back to her father’s estate, where Viscount Cuthbert, Henrietta’s father, had been deeply angry with what Henrietta had done. He had demanded that she stay away from London and from society for the remainder of that year and, indeed, the year after that so as to ensure that she had adequate time to reflect on her behavior, and also to make quite certain that there were to be no rumors of her behavior in London. Her father and mother had been so concerned that there would be whispers about Henrietta that they had written to almost every one of their acquaintances in town, on more than one occasion, seeking to discover wh
at gossip might be making its way through the rumor mills.

  Thankfully, though there had been plenty about Lady Starling, there had been nothing about Henrietta—none to damage her even a little.

  Now, she was returned to London and, with the promise to behave with utter propriety and to do exactly as her mother required, Henrietta was finally to be allowed the chance to seek out a suitor. She was a little older than before and certainly would not pass for a debutante, but still was not past the age for marrying. She was hopeful and her spirits rather buoyant. There was a chance for her now and she was not about to let it fly from her.

  “Now, your cousin is to—”

  Henrietta whirled about almost at once, facing her mother and seeing how Lady Cuthbert’s eyebrows rose as she looked back at Henrietta.

  “My cousin, Mama?” Henrietta repeated, as a touch of nausea swirled about in her stomach. “Surely you cannot be speaking of Statton!” She narrowed her eyes just a little as her mother held her gaze, her chin lifted and her expression severe.

  “I speak of Mr. Statton, yes,” Lady Cuthbert replied firmly, her green eyes almost the very same shade as Henrietta’s. “He is come to town and seeks an audience with you.”

  Henrietta shook her head. Over the last two years, George Statton had called at the estate on a few occasions when, previously, he had not called upon her father for long periods of time. She had begun to suspect that he was being invited to the house for one sole purpose and now that he was, apparently, in London at the same time as she, Henrietta became convinced that her concerns were correct.

  “He is a kind man, Henrietta,” Lady Cuthbert continued, rising to her feet and beginning to pace up and down in front of the drawing room hearth. “He has a good income, even though he is in employment, and would suit you very well.”