Lord Augustus (Sons of the Marquess Book 3)

by Mary Kingswood

  “Oh, no, I do not need time to decide,” she said at once. “I do not wish to sell the horses. My husband bought them for his brother, because he believed in his ideas. It was something he talked about to me on occasion. I should like to see the stud thrive.”

  “Well, that is very decided,” the lawyer said. “Very decided indeed. Very well. As for the rest of Lord Edward’s estate, it is all invested here and there, and the income is entirely yours until such time as your son comes of age, and one third thereafter, for your lifetime. And should you remarry…”

  His eyes twinkled at her, making her blush. She dared not look at Gus, but she knew exactly what was meant. And she held her breath… would she lose everything if she married Gus? Would it make a difference? Not to her, but to him and to his family, perhaps it might.

  “There are no conditions,” the lawyer said. “None whatsoever. Lord Edward was a generous man, Lady Edward, and trusted you implicitly. And I do not believe his confidence was misplaced, do you?” He threw a quick glance at Gus, and chuckled.

  ~~~~~

  Gus was up early the next morning to see Edgerton, Merton and Willerton-Forbes on the road south. Edgerton was uncharacteristically glum.

  “Did you not enjoy your stay in the far north, Michael?” Gus said, amused.

  “I should have enjoyed it more if the ladies hereabouts had been a little friendlier,” he confessed. “All promise, they are, and none of them willing to make good on it. I have never expended so much effort for so little reward. If you see Mrs Masterson wearing a very pretty pearl necklace, you may wish her joy of it from me. I do not like being bested by a woman like that. And as for gentle little clergymen, who innocently claim they hardly ever play cards… do not believe a word of it. I shall be hard put to it to pay my way home.”

  “I think I lost more to him,” Merton said.

  “Aye, I believe you did,” Edgerton said.

  “You mean Mr Parker?”

  “The very one. Willerton-Forbes gave it up after an hour or so, and we should have done the same. If ever Lord Humphrey comes up here to visit, you may set him the task of recovering my blunt from Parker. I take it you are staying?”

  Gus nodded. “I have already sent my resignation to Tattersall’s, for I cannot leave Lady Edward just now.”

  “Well, I shall take the liberty of wishing you joy, even if it is a little premature,” Edgerton said. “Heaven knows when we may meet again.”

  Later that morning, Gus took Ned to see the stud horses that were now his, accompanied by Amaryllis, six solid footmen and a couple of maids.

  “Good morning, Lord Gus!”

  Gus was getting used to his new epithet. “Waterbury. How are you?”

  “Very well indeed, as you may imagine. Oh, I can see that you do not know! Do you remember Light As Air, the pretty little filly you suggested we race? Well, we took you at your word, and sent her to Newcastle and she won! Can you believe it? It is the most famous thing, and…” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I hear that Lady Edward is not inclined to sell. That is excellent news, for with a victory under our belts, all these horses are immediately more valuable. Is it not wonderful? The marquess’s theories on breeding are quite vindicated.”

  Ned was enchanted with the idea that he owned all the horses, and wanted to know the name of every one, and pat each one on the nose and offer a lump of sugar. His tour of the stables took a very long time.

  “He is exhausted,” Amaryllis said. “Look at the way he pulls his hair. Lucy, will you take him back to the castle for a nap?”

  “Shall we go back too?” Gus said.

  “Will you walk with me?” she said, and he nodded his acquiescence.

  Somehow it did not surprise him when their walk led to the little arbour with its seat. They still had three footmen and a maid dogging their footsteps, but when they stopped, Gus said to them, “Stand further off, will you? You may protect us just as well from twenty yards as two.”

  “Thank you,” Amaryllis said, smiling up at him in that heart-stopping way of hers. “So much attention is rather overwhelming. Gus… will you take your gloves off? I should like to hold your hand.”

  He was delighted to oblige. Her hand was so soft and warm in his, yet so tiny, like a little bird settled in his palm, fluttering there, afraid but trusting.

  She sighed. “That feels so lovely. I had never realised how much I needed this — touching. Being held, as you held me that night we nearly lost Ned to her. I have always been so… alone. Papa was like a friend to me, but it is not the same, is it? There were things I could not share with him. But when I married Edward… he made me feel very safe. Protected. For a brief time, I did not have to be strong and think of everything and make all the decisions.”

  “You are safe now,” Gus said. “The duke will protect you.”

  “That is not the same,” she cried with unexpected passion. “Papa protected me too, but it is not the same. Will you protect me?”

  He hesitated. “Amaryllis, I am yours to command, always, you must know that. But I am a simple man, and do not understand subtleties. Tell me in plain terms what you want from me, and you shall have it.”

  She looked at him with her guileless blue eyes, as if debating whether he truly meant it. Then she said, “I want to know… why you have not yet asked me to marry you.”

  The honesty of it took his breath away. He could only be equally honest in return. “Because… I did not know who you were, for a long time. Now, because your life is in turmoil and I would not add to it. Because it is not clear to me how to fit into your new life. Because I did not know when it was the right time. And more than any of those things, because you are a very wealthy woman and I have nothing, not a penny to my name, except for my brother’s charity. I am not worthy of you, and I do not yet know how to overcome that obstacle.”

  “That is not an obstacle,” she said fiercely. “My husband trusted me enough to make me independently wealthy, quite apart from Ned’s inheritance. He settled twenty thousand pounds on me, and a house too, all in my own name, and those are mine no matter what happens. Edward trusted me to choose my next husband well, to choose a man worthy to succeed him, and I have done that. Gus, you have asked me what I want from you and I cannot speak plainer. I want you in my life, in my arms, as you are in my heart. And if you truly need me to tell you… this is the right time to propose.”

  He closed his eyes momentarily, swept by joy, by relief… by love. Then he took both her hands in his.

  “Amaryllis…” He stopped, mesmerised by those blue eyes that had haunted his dreams. “I… do not know the right words. All I know is that I love you more than anything in the world – more than my horses, which I never thought was possible, and I would cherish you more, far more, than I ever cherished them. I would love you and protect you and stand beside you for ever, if you will have me. Will you? Please?”

  “I will,” she said, smiling up at him and making his heart turn over, then added in severe tones, “Although… you said nothing of income or your position in society, you know, which an offer should always include, if at all possible.”

  He laughed at that, remembering his own words after the duke’s proposal. “But at least I mentioned love.”

  “So you did, and that is all that matters. Dear Gus… the love of my life.

  He scooped her into his arms, and pressed her close. “My darling, my sweet angel…”

  Her lovely face was so close to his, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath. He ran one finger wonderingly down her soft cheek, trembling with joy at her nearness. Finally, after all the doubts and long anxious days of wondering who she was and how he could ever win her — she was his own love, his Amaryllis. She would never leave him. Almost imperceptibly, he moved closer to her, and then his lips were on hers — oh, such sweetness! — and, wondrously, she was kissing him back with such fiery passion that he was almost overcome. For a long, long time they clung together, until his lip
s were bruised and he was sure he would explode with happiness.

  “When?” he whispered, as soon as he could formulate the thought. “When may I make you mine?”

  “Whenever the banns can be read,” she said. “I have waited such a long time for you, my beloved Gus, for a man who truly owns my heart. I do not want to wait a moment longer than I have to.”

  “I have no objection to such a plan,” he said. “But I must go home for a while…”

  She pulled away from him, her face fearful. “Why? Why must you go? Do not leave me!”

  “Well, perhaps it may be done by letter. But I must make arrangements.”

  “There must be people who can pack up your clothes for you,” she cried.

  “It is not my clothes that concern me. I need to dispose of my horses, and—”

  “Your horses! But why?”

  “Because I have more horses than any sensible man needs. I decided some time ago that I would get rid of them. It was when I thought, you see, that you were Lord Edward’s mistress and that I should be cast out of all good society when I wed you. I would only have my brother’s allowance to live on, and so—”

  “You would have married me, even thinking I had no reputation at all?”

  “Of course. Why should I care about that? It might be significant to society, but you are the same person, the same sweet, good-natured, delightful person, and you matter to me more than anything in the world.”

  “Oh Gus!” She laid her head on his shoulder. “As to your horses — that is up to you. If — when we marry, there will be money enough for as many horses as you want, but you must decide that for yourself. The question of how you will fit into my new life is difficult, because I do not yet know how I will fit into it. But I feel that Ned must stay here, and therefore I must stay here, and that means that you must stay here, too.”

  “I understand,” he said. “But I shall feel very useless.”

  “No, you will not, for you will have work to do, if you want it. I very much hope that you will manage the stud for Ned.”

  “Oh…” Joy bubbled up inside him. “That is… perfect!” he said. “I should like that very much. And if I write to Humphrey, he can arrange to sell my own horses for me. He will see that they go to good homes, where they will be well looked after, and cherished just as I have cherished them. It would tear at my heart to send them to be auctioned to strangers at Tattersall’s. There is an irony, is it not? I came here to sell the stud horses, and in the end it is my horses which are to be sold.”

  “But not Jupiter,” she said firmly.

  “No?”

  “No. For that is how we met, remember? First he nearly ran me down, and then Ned. Without Jupiter we should never have known each other, so you must never sell him, never.”

  “It shall be just as you wish, my love,” Gus said, and bent his head to kiss her again.

  THE END

  Book 4 of the series is Lord Montague, and you can read a sneak preview of Chapter 1 after the acknowledgements. For more information or to buy, go to my website.

  Thanks for reading!

  If you have enjoyed reading this book, please consider writing a short review on Amazon. You can find out the latest news and sign up for the mailing list at my website.

  Book 4 of the series is Lord Montague, and you can read a sneak preview of Chapter 1 after the acknowledgements.

  A note on historical accuracy: I have endeavoured to stay true to the spirit of Regency times, and have avoided taking too many liberties or imposing modern sensibilities on my characters. The book is not one of historical record, but I’ve tried to make it reasonably accurate. However, I’m not perfect! If you spot a historical error, I’d very much appreciate knowing about it so that I can correct it and learn from it. Thank you!

  About Sons of the Marquess: the Ninth Marquess of Carrbridge is happily married to the former Miss Constance Allamont, he has an heir and a spare in the nursery, and all seems set fair for a life of perfect bliss. His five younger brothers are a bit of a handful, but young men like to spread their wings a bit. If only they weren’t so expensive! And whatever happened to that huge income his father used to boast about? It seems to have vanished in a generation. And now there’s the unknown son of his father’s who claims to be the legitimate heir to the Marquessate. It’s a bit much for a Marquess to deal with. Fortunately, his wife has some ideas about recovering their position…

  Book 0: The Earl of Deveron (a novella, free to mailing list subscribers)

  Book 1: Lord Reginald

  Book 2: Lord Humphrey

  Book 3: Lord Augustus

  Book 4: Lord Montague

  Book 5: Lord Gilbert

  Any questions about the series? Email me - I’d love to hear from you!

  About the author

  I write traditional Regency romances under the pen name Mary Kingswood, and epic fantasy as Pauline M Ross. I live in the beautiful Highlands of Scotland with my husband. I like chocolate, whisky, my Kindle, massed pipe bands, long leisurely lunches, chocolate, going places in my campervan, eating pizza in Italy, summer nights that never get dark, wood fires in winter, chocolate, the view from the study window looking out over the Moray Firth and the Black Isle to the mountains beyond. And chocolate. I dislike driving on motorways, cooking, shopping, hospitals.

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks go to:

  My mother, who first introduced me to the wonderful world of Jane Austen.

  Shayne Rutherford of Darkmoon Graphics for the cover design.

  My beta reader: Mary Burnett.

  Last, but definitely not least, my first reader: Amy Ross.

  Sneak Preview of Lord Montague: Chapter 1: A Debt Of Honour

  “Melissa, I hope you have a pretty gown for evening tucked away somewhere,” the new earl said. She still thought of him as the new earl, although his father had died more than two years ago.

  “My lord?”

  “You will be dining with the family tonight, so be sure to look your best.”

  “With the family? Me?”

  “Ah, I see your pleasure,” he said smugly. “A rare treat for you. But why not, just this once, eh?”

  So rare a treat was it, that Melissa could never remember it happening before, and was mistrustful. Lord Bentley was not a man who dispensed largesse, or even kindness, as a rule, and she was quite certain this outburst of generosity had some dark motive.

  But still, a dinner in company was a welcome event. She curtsied and thanked him with sincerity, and went to see which of her two evening gowns might manage to rise to the occasion. Neither were worn very often, and both had been cast-offs from the present earl’s stepmother, taking pity on Melissa before the annual servants’ ball. The pink, she supposed, being the newer and least faded of the two. The previous Lady Bentley had had a pale prettiness that was well-suited to delicate colours, and the gown had looked charming on her. With Melissa’s dark complexion, it looked less well. How she wished the present Lady Bentley would offer her a gown, for the striking colours she liked would suit Melissa admirably.

  When the dressing gong sounded, Melissa was already in her little room, half undressed and trying to decide whether the addition of ribbons in her hair made her look even more ridiculous or not, when a tap at the door revealed Miss Thompson, Lady Bentley’s maid.

  “Milady sent me to help you dress, miss,” she said, with an audible sniff of disapproval.

  “Oh. How very kind of her ladyship.” And how very unexpected. Now Melissa was deeply suspicious. She had a sinking feeling that she was being wrapped up like a gift, to be shown off to someone. Perhaps the countess had found her another position, now that she was no longer wanted at Bentley Hall? Although prospective governesses were not usually paraded at dinner. Well, she would find out soon enough.

  Miss Thompson primped and curled and fussed until Melissa hardly recognised herself in the glass.

  “There, miss, you look very pretty,” Miss Thompson said
, and her thin lips almost twitched into a smile.

  Was she pretty? She would love to be pretty, or perhaps handsome. Everyone said that the present Lady Bentley was handsome, and it seemed to be a compliment, but Melissa was not quite sure what they meant by it. Lady Bentley was elegant, to be sure, in her exquisite colourful gowns, and her manner of piling her blonde curls on top of her head gave her an imposing height, but her countenance was not pleasing. But perhaps that was because she was always scowling when Melissa saw her.

  She was not scowling when Melissa entered the drawing room. When she smiled, however insincerely, she did indeed look quite handsome.

  “Ah, here she is at last! How impatiently we have awaited you, Melissa dear, but we do not mind in the least, for see how we are rewarded. I never saw you look better, my dear.”

  “I did not mean to be late. I beg your pardon.”

  She tittered. “My dear, I intended no rebuke.”

  Melissa was silent. Since when had Lady Bentley not had a rebuke on her lips? Her first lesson as soon as the new earl had married was to learn to keep out of his wife’s way.

  The countess rose smoothly from her chair and crossed the room to where her husband and brother-in-law stood with a third man, unknown to Melissa. The earl was shorter than average, with an undistinguished air. His brother tended to foppery, with an excessively complicated cravat, a bright red coat and such an array of rings and pins and fobs as to quite dazzle the eye. The stranger was excessively fat, his coat buttons straining across his vast stomach, and a balding head already shining from the heat.

  “Here she is, gentlemen. Mr Pontefract, may I present to you Lord Bentley’s ward, Miss Frost?”

  “Enchanted, my dear,” he murmured, creaking as he inclined very slightly from the vertical in what Melissa supposed was a bow. As she rose from her curtsy, he was licking his lips as if she were a particularly tasty dish presented at the dinner table. “Delightful, quite delightful.” His eyes ran slowly down to her shoes and back up again, before settling on her chest. “Charming!” He rubbed his hands together, and leered at her.