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

by Joyce Alec

  “Let me start at the beginning, Miss Weston. I will not hold anything back from you; I promise you that.”

  Sarah drew in a deep breath, steadying herself as Lord Thorndyke began to speak.

  “You are the daughter of the Duke of Brighton, who was an honorable man,” Lord Thorndyke began quietly. “He had a son first and then a daughter. However, his brother, Lord Andrew Fairley, was not a good man. In fact, he threw away his fortune into nothing more than gambling and…well, other rather unpleasant vices.”

  Sarah saw Lord Thorndyke’s cheeks color, as he looked away, feeling her own stomach tighten with disgust.

  “Lord Andrew continued to request funds from the duke and, initially, the duke was very kind to him. He was his brother after all, and I believe Lord Andrew made more than a few promises to turn his back on such vices and start again. Eventually, the duke learned that this was not the case and that the estate he had given his brother was about to be sold by Lord Andrew to regain some of the money he had lost.” Lord Thorndyke shook his head, his lips thinning. “The duke bought the estate back and turned his back on his brother entirely.”

  Sarah did not know what to say, her hands beginning to tremble, as she placed her teacup down on the table. To hear of her father brought her such a deep emotion that she could barely speak; she was glad that he had been a man of honor and respect.

  “Lord Andrew did not take this well,” Lord Thorndyke continued gently. “He swore to do all he could to get his revenge on your father, claiming he had been treated unfairly.”

  “But it was all his own doing,” Sarah protested, her heart growing sick at the thought of Lord Andrew pursuing his own kind of cruel justice. “How could he hold my father responsible for that?”

  Lord Thorndyke shook his head. “Because there is a darkness in him that cannot be explained. He…he killed your mother, Sarah.”

  The world around her began to spin, and she was forced to clutch onto the arms of her chair, trying her best not to faint.

  Lord Thorndyke was beside her in a moment, taking one of her hands in his and looking deeply into her eyes.

  “I did not mean to shock you,” he said slowly, “but it is the truth. Your mother was out riding when he fired his shotgun near her. The horse rose up in fright, and your mother fell from the saddle. I do not know whether he ever meant her to lose her life, but regardless, he was responsible. Your mother was out riding with two stable hands behind her – one followed Lord Andrew whilst the other stayed with your mother. Lord Andrew was never caught, and when questioned, he denied all knowledge of the incident. There was nothing your father could do.”

  Sarah could not speak, her throat aching with sheer pain over the loss of her mother, a mother she could not remember.

  “Your father made arrangements for you and your brother,” Lord Thorndyke continued softly. “Your brother is the new Duke of Brighton and has taken his place and his title as he ought, but the danger has not yet passed. He lives on his country estate and does not often come to London.”

  A shadowy figure crept into Sarah’s memory, the figure of a young boy laughing and teasing her in a garden somewhere.

  “I have a brother,” she whispered, tears slipping down her cheeks, as she stared, unseeingly, at Lord Thorndyke.

  “You do,” he said, pressing her hand. “He believes Lord Andrew to still be a danger since he is still living, and being a decade younger than your father, he is in fairly good health.”

  Sarah clutched at Lord Thorndyke’s hand, feeling him to be her solid anchor in the midst of a terrifying storm.

  “He is often seen in society but has never once shown any kind of repentance over what happened. In fact, my father often talked with me about the kind of things he would say about his brother. In addition,” he said, slowing down his speech and frowning as if wondering whether or not to say something. “In addition…no, perhaps I had best wait—”

  “Tell me,” she begged, one hand wrapping around his neck as she forced his eyes to meet hers. “Please, Lord Thorndyke, do not keep anything from me. I must know it all.”

  He nodded slowly, a sad smile on his face. “In addition, Miss Weston, there were some near misses with your father. A few things that appeared to be accidents, but had they been only a few inches one way or the next could have easily taken your father’s life. My father was dear friends with yours, and so, over the years, they continued to keep watch on Lord Andrew. The man is determined to do all he can to ruin the duke’s family, even in death. My father swore to yours that he would help him keep his son and daughter safe, even if it meant that you would never know the truth about your parentage or your place in society.” He patted her hand, his expression softening. “Better to live a quiet life than to have one being chased by death,” he finished quietly. “I promised to protect you, should you ever return to London whilst your uncle still lived, and so I will, by marrying you at once.”

  There was nothing for Sarah to say. Instead, tears poured into her eyes and fell onto her cheeks as she mourned for a father she would never know, a mother taken from her too soon. She felt no shame in letting her grief show, feeling Lord Thorndyke’s hands on hers as she wept. Gentle fingers brushed her tears away, before pressing a handkerchief into her hand.

  “Will you marry me, Sarah?” he asked, his eyes searching her face. “I cannot imagine the torment that you are going through, but can you not see that you are in danger here? It would not be right of me to allow you to live here alone any longer, not even with your companion. Lord Andrew is, at this very moment, in London for the Season, although how he has the wealth to do so, I cannot say. Let me fulfill my promise to my father.”

  Sarah drew in a shaking breath, her heart filled with nothing but pain. “Very well,” she whispered, not seeing any other way forward but to accept. “I will marry you, Lord Thorndyke.”

  There came no smile of delight, no burst of happiness in his expression as she accepted, but only a calm acceptance and a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Sarah,” he said, pressing her hand gently. “I will make all the arrangements. You can leave everything to me.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah replied dully, not knowing what else to say. Her parents were gone. Her hope of a family waiting to welcome her was dashed to pieces. There was nothing except Lord Thorndyke, and the thought of marrying him brought her no pleasure.

  There was only pain.

  10

  Finishing his letter, James sighed aloud and sealed it closed, his heart heavy. He was writing to the new Duke of Brighton, who was residing in his country estate and taking every precaution when it came to his nefarious uncle. James had only met the man once but had written to him on more than one occasion since he had taken up the title. The duke knew everything about James’s involvement with the family and was more than grateful for their correspondence, for it meant that the duke could rest a little easier whenever Lord Andrew appeared in London. However, this time, James was to inform him that, not only had the duke’s sister reappeared in London, but that he was to marry her for her own safety and protection, as well as fulfilling a promise he had made to his own father.

  There was nothing but relief in that knowledge, although somewhere, deep within himself, James felt a spark of excitement about doing so. It was a very strange sensation, for James never allowed himself to think about anything other than practicality when it came to Miss Weston, even though he knew that she was rather beautiful. He hated that he had reacted when she touched his hand; he did not like the fact that his heart had quickened painfully in his chest as he had done so. Yes, he was sympathetic to her plight and could never truly understand the pain she was going through, but to feel anything more was foolish. Emotion would cloud his judgment and make him slow to react.

  “You look as though you have a lot on your mind.”

  James looked up as his friend Lord Higgs walked into his study, a broad smile on his face.

  “That is because I do have a lot to think about,”
he replied calmly. “I am to marry Miss Weston, after all.”

  Lord Higgs let out a long whistle of surprise. “Well,” he muttered, looking all about for where James had put the decanter of brandy. “That is quick, Thorndyke. So long as you are sure about it.”

  “I am sure,” James replied, a touch too quick. “I made a promise, and it is one I intend to keep. I proposed to Miss Weston two days ago and she agreed to marry me.”

  “Mmm,” Higgs murmured, narrowing his gaze just a little. “I have known you for a long time, Thorndyke, and I have never heard you consider matrimony with any kind of hope or anticipation. It is as though you are a man being led, unwillingly, to the gallows.”

  James shook his head. “It is not that at all. I am quite happy to be marrying Miss Weston. Truly. She will make me an excellent wife, I am certain of it.”

  Lord Higgs set a brandy down on the desk in front of James and then took his seat. “Is that so?” he murmured, clearly a little disbelieving. “There is another way, you know.”

  James lifted one eyebrow. “And what is that?”

  “Remove the threat of Lord Andrew.”

  It was such an obvious answer that, for a moment, James wanted to laugh aloud.

  “I know, I know, you will say that it is something you have thought about already, but the truth is that, should you remove the threat of Lord Andrew, then neither of you needs to marry the other. You will both be free to live your own lives and marry whomever you choose.”

  It was not something James had ever thought seriously about, knowing that Lord Andrew would not be easy to tackle. “I cannot shoot a man in cold blood, if that is what you are thinking, Higgs. There is nothing I can do when it comes to that man.”

  Higgs shrugged. “Have you tried?”

  Letting out a long, frustrated breath, James shook his head. “Then tell me, what do you think I can do? I will not kill him, if that is what you are thinking.”

  Chuckling, Higgs sat up a little straighter and took a sip of his brandy before replying. “Rumor has it the man has married. Did you know that? There must be a reason he is back in London, which we can assume is to try and continue his search for his brother’s children, but he has been getting the money from somewhere in order to do so. Perhaps he married a rich wife.”

  “I doubt that,” James replied, shaking his head. “What kind of lady would marry a gentleman of such disrepute?”

  Higgs frowned. “Perhaps she had no choice. It is not as though all ladies are given a choice over whom they wed.”

  “I find it highly unlikely that any father would force their daughter to marry Lord Andrew when he is well known to be a gambler and a cheat with very little money to call his own.”

  “It is still possible,” Higgs suggested calmly. “After all, that is the rumor.” He tipped his head and regarded James carefully. “And it might lead you to the opportunity to live your own life, free of your engagement to Miss Weston.”

  James fell silent, allowing his thoughts to sit heavily on his mind. The thought of removing himself from his engagement to Miss Weston was not one that brought him even the smallest modicum of happiness nor of relief. It was as if he truly did want to marry her, even though he had told himself repeatedly that he was doing it out of duty. Were he free to choose whomever he wished, were she free to do the same, would he still keep their engagement? As yet, no one knew of it, and therefore he could break it off without any consequences. Miss Weston would be sure to find a great many suitors due to her great fortune, as well as her beauty.

  That thought made him frown. He did not want Miss Weston to be surrounded by gentlemen whose first thought was what money they could gain access to should they marry her. She might not be able to discern one gentleman from another; she not be able to discover their true motivations until after her wedding day, and that thought brought a twist of anger to James’s heart.

  “No,” he said aloud, speaking as much to himself as to Lord Higgs. “No, I will marry Miss Weston. We are engaged, and I will be going to seek a special license from the archbishop just as soon as I receive a reply from the new Duke of Brighton. I will need his blessing to show to the archbishop in order to gain such a license, but I do not think it will be long. Within the week, I hope.”

  “And that means you do not have to worry about the banns being called,” Lord Higgs murmured, nodding slowly. “I understand. You do not want to reveal Miss Weston’s true identity.”

  “Precisely,” James stated, taking a sip of his brandy. “Although should her uncle see her, I would guess that he will recognize her features to be that of the late duke’s. She is very evidently his daughter.”

  Lord Higgs looked at James thoughtfully, his eyes glazing over for a moment in an expression that James recognized as deep consideration. He remained silent for a time before speaking again.

  “Are you truly going to live your life in fear of Lord Andrew, Thorndyke?” he asked slowly, a frown growing between his brows. “Are you going to whisk Miss Weston away to your country estate in the hope that Lord Andrew will never find her? What if you have children? When will the worry over Lord Andrew end?”

  James frowned, having never considered as much before.

  “Whether or not you marry Miss Weston, I cannot see how such a heavy burden as Lord Andrew’s presence can continue to weigh on both your shoulders. The man may be alive for some time yet, and I cannot imagine that it will be a life of joy for you both to be constantly on your guard.”

  “I…I do not know what we shall do,” James replied slowly, realizing he had never thought of such a thing before. “I had not thought about it.”

  Higgs gave him a small, rueful smile. “Then might I suggest that you consider your intentions as regards Lord Andrew, Thorndyke? I am here to help you, of course, but I do not want you to be burdened with Lord Andrew’s presence any longer than you need to be. Surely, there must be something we can do to rid you of his loathsome presence?”

  James sighed, looking down at the sketch of the locket he had drawn earlier. That was the only other thing that he could think of looking into, else he would just continue with his plan to marry Miss Weston and then move to the country.

  “The only thing we could do is find the owner of this locket,” he said, picking up the paper and handing it to Lord Higgs. “Do not ask me why, but it is possibly of more importance than any of us know. Miss Weston was given it by someone she does not know, who slipped it under her pillow when she was at dinner.”

  “At her guardian’s home?” Lord Higgs asked, one eyebrow raised in surprise.

  “Yes,” James said a little heavily. “It is what set her on the path here. I cannot help but wonder why someone would do such a thing and what their intentions were.”

  Lord Higgs let out a long hiss, his eyes fixed on the locket. To James’s surprise, something flared in Higgs’s eyes as he looked at it, making the man sit up a little straighter.

  “I might be able to help you with this, Thorndyke,” Lord Higgs exclaimed, suddenly sounding excited. “I think I know where this came from.”

  “Oh?”

  Lord Higgs grinned, handing the paper back. “Last season there was a theft at once of the pawnbrokers here in town. That locket was the only thing that was taken.”

  James’s eyebrows shot into his hair, as he stared at Lord Higgs.

  “Best go get Miss Weston for this,” Lord Higgs continued, settling back into his chair. “We are to go into town this afternoon. We will see what answers we can find from that pawnbroker, shall we?”

  James nodded, his heart slamming into his chest with astonishment. “I will send for her at once,” he breathed, getting up to ring the bell. “Goodness me, Higgs. Whoever would have thought that you would be able to help us with this?”

  Lord Higgs chuckled. “It seems I might be good for something after all.”

  11

  Sarah did exactly as Lord Thorndyke asked, taking a hackney instead of her carriage to his home and
making sure to wear a bonnet that hid most of her features. The locket, too, was safely in her pocket. Mrs. Avis came with her, of course, but she was as unsure as to why they had been summoned to Lord Thorndyke’s home as Sarah was.

  Sarah, who had now had two days with which to calm her heart and mind, looked out of the window for a moment, feeling suddenly nervous about seeing Lord Thorndyke again. He had given her some time to think, to take everything in, and she now felt a good deal better than when he had left her. The news that she had no parents to speak of still hurt her more than she could say, but she was glad to know that her brother still lived. She hoped desperately that, one day soon, she might be reunited with him.

  “I should tell you that I am engaged to Lord Thorndyke,” Sarah said slowly, as the hackney made its way through the streets of London. “It is quite soon and very unexpected, but I think it for the best.”

  Mrs. Avis nodded, her eyes darting to outside the hackney window, but not before Sarah had caught a small smile on her companion’s face, which appeared to now be awash with relief. Was Mrs. Avis glad that Sarah was to marry Lord Thorndyke then? She had never given her opinion, which was just as Sarah should expect from her companion, but now it seemed that Mrs. Avis was glad to know that her charge would soon become wife to Lord Thorndyke.

  Perhaps she is glad that she will not have to remain in London and can instead return to her little country home, Sarah thought, as the hackney pulled up outside Lord Thorndyke’s townhouse. I shall have to make sure to pay her well for all that she has endured with me. I am sure I have not been what she expected.

  “I am very glad for you, Sarah,” Mrs. Avis murmured, as they climbed the steps to Lord Thorndyke’s front door. “I think Lord Thorndyke will make you an excellent husband and will certainly be able to keep you safe from Lord Andrew.”