He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, opening them to focus again on Anne.
"It was the smallest excuse he used to cut him out completely. And me, foolish young idiot that I was, didn't stop him. I hadn't spoken to Ian for years, only in letters while I was traveling." His thumb rubbing across her jaw was making Anne feel dizzy. It tingled. "Just now Ian said he forgave me a long time ago, but I don't know if I can forgive myself."
Anne listened to all this in stunned amazement. She had settled her thoughts and questions about Ian and William's relationship a while ago. William didn't need to tell her anymore, but she could tell it weighed heavily on him.
On instinct, she stepped into his arms and hugged him. William stiffened, but then his arms went around her, and he held her close, resting his chin on her head as he let out a heavy sigh. Anne pressed her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes. Being held by him felt so good.
"Don't beat yourself up about it." She said softly. "Ian's the most forgiving man I know. What your father did was not your fault." She looked up at William. "You are not him."
"I know." William brushed a strand of hair away from her face, the expression in his eyes softening as he stared at her. "Your opinion means a lot to me, Anne. I know we didn't start off well, but how you think of me means a great deal."
Anne was touched. But she couldn't help but grin.
"Even if it's a bad one."
"Even then."
William looked like he was going to say more. Then he glanced up over Anne's head and straightened up. Anne looked around and saw her father standing in the doorway to her house. He was watching them closely. William drew back a little.
"I'd better let you go in now. Your father's waiting."
Anne didn't want him to go. Suddenly she didn't want to leave his arms. She swallowed and nodded, stepping out of his arms.
"Good evening, William."
"Goodbye, Anne."
William stepped in close, dipped his head, and kissed her. It was a brief but firm press of his mouth on hers, but Anne felt it all through her body. Her lips were still tingling even after William pulled away and walked off.
Chapter 10
A New Adventure
Anne couldn't sleep. After the revelation from William and the kiss, she wasn't able to turn her mind off and settle into her usual slumber. When the sun appeared above the horizon, rising on a new day, Anne decided that there was no point in trying to sleep any longer. She washed and dressed as quietly as she could and tiptoed out of her room. A walk in the fresh air might do her some good.
John was in the kitchen. He looked up as Anne entered and frowned.
"What are you doing up this early?"
Anne blinked when she saw her father in his favorite chair by the fire. The fire was made up, and he was reading a book by candlelight. The sun wasn't high enough for natural light, and they were on the wrong side of the house for it, even if it was.
"I could ask the same about you."
"I couldn't sleep." John lowered his book. "I take it you couldn't, either. I heard a lot of rustling coming from your room."
Anne sighed.
"You could say that." She sat on the chair opposite, staring into the fire. "I had a lot to think about."
John was silent for a moment. Then he closed his book and put it to one side.
"I saw you with Cheswick yesterday." He sat back and linked his fingers over his stomach, giving Anne a scrutinizing look. "Is there anything going on between you?"
"Nothing." Anne hesitated. "Not really."
"How am I supposed to interpret that?"
"I don't know." Anne rubbed her hands over her face. Suddenly she was feeling very tired. "Because I don't really know myself."
And that was the truth. Anne was confused and didn't know what to do. Her mother would simply start discussing wedding plans, and chances were she was talking about it around the village by now. Her father, however, would know what she needed to do. Anne had always turned to him for advice, and she needed some now.
"Apart from that kiss I saw," John said slowly, "You haven't done anything to create a scandal, have you?"
Anne started.
"No! I would never do that to a man. Or myself."
"I'm sorry. I had to ask." John shrugged. "You can't blame me for wanting my daughter to be happy."
"I don't feel happy right now." Anne felt like she was going to cry. "I feel confused. I don't know what's going on, Father."
John was silent for a moment. Then he stood and moved over to her. Taking Anne's hand, he urged her to stand and wrapped her arms around her. Anne clung on to him and hugged him tight. John pressed a kiss to her head.
"It's clear that man has strong feelings for you. I'm not the most observant of men, but I can see it." He urged Anne back and cupped her chin in his hand. "How do you feel about him? Because I don't want to think of my daughter as a flirt who can lead a man on."
Anne shook her head.
"I'm not going to lead him on, Father. If something happens, I'll be happy." She bit her lip and swallowed back the lump in her throat. "But it's a scary thought. After so many years of men turning away because of me being myself, to know a man is in love with me is somehow scary."
"I know it is." John smiled and kissed her forehead. "It's something new, and you're not very good with new ideas. But you're also good at accepting. You'll be fine."
"What should I do, Papa?"
"Do you love him?"
Anne didn't need to think. She nodded.
"Then do what you think is best." John hugged her again. "I trust you to do the right thing."
***
Anne was beginning to feel sleepy. The fresh air was having its effect. Hopefully, she would soon be able to go back home, get into bed and maybe have some sleep.
The conversation she had had with her father had been enlightening. Anne hadn't admitted to herself that she was in love with William until that moment. But something John had said had resonated with her, and she knew the truth. The only thing now was whether William felt the same way.
Fondly thinking again about the kiss the day before, Anne was sure the Duke of Cheswick felt something.
She was by the river, the same place where they had had their race, walking along the bank, when there was the sound of horse's hooves. Looking round, Anne saw a silver-coloured horse break through the trees. She recognized the rider, his red-brown hair devoid of a hat and his collar undone. He looked like he had thrown his clothes on without caring.
William saw her, and his face broke into a smile that had Anne's heart jumping. He waved a greeting and urged Silver Crest in her direction. Anne stood and stared as William pulled up in front of her and dismounted.
"William, what are you doing up this early?"
"I couldn't sleep." William stroked the horse's neck. "So I thought I'd go out for a ride."
Anne turned to Silver Crest, who nudged her with her nose. She stroked the beautiful mare's nose.
"Hey, Silver Crest. You're looking well."
"She's missed you."
"I've missed her." Anne hadn't seen Silver Crest since her accident. The thought of getting on a horse after what happened had shaken her. But seeing Silver Crest now, Anne wanted to ride again. "I can't wait to get back into the saddle now."
"Well, now's your chance." William laid a hand on her shoulder. "I've spoken to Charles, and he's happy to house Silver Crest at his stables. But she belongs to you." He paused. "If you want her."
Anne stared at William. He was giving her a horse? She had never received such an amazing present.
"Really?" She had never owned a horse. But she was confused. "But why are you giving her to me?"
William hesitated. He looked away.
"I'm not meant to be in one place." He said finally. "I don't like being settled like that. I feel happier going out there and traveling. That's what I love doing."
Anne knew that. She had gathered from the way he had
talked about his travels in Europe. Then she realized what he was saying, and her heart sank.
"So you're leaving?"
"In a few weeks. I'm going to Spain and then on to Portugal." William's eyes went misty. "It's beautiful there, and somewhere I didn't get a chance to visit."
"Oh."
Now Anne felt the world drop away from her. She had thought William actually cared for her. But all he cared about was traveling.
Well, she wouldn't stand in his way. She wasn't a woman who came between a man and something he loved. Anne adjusted the cuffs on her dress and turned away.
"Have a pleasant journey, then." She said formally.
She would not cry, Anne told herself as she started to hurry away. She was not going to cry in front of the man she had fallen for and made herself look like a fool. Then she heard William hurrying after her.
"Anne, wait." He grabbed her arm, and Anne had to stop. She turned to him and saw William staring at her. "I haven't finished. I was going to ask you to come with me."
Anne blinked.
"Come with you?" She echoed, a confused look on her face. "Why?"
William smiled and cupped her cheeks in his hands.
"Because I'd feel happier if I was traveling with you." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm in love with you, Anne Barclay. And I don't want to spend a minute longer away from you. I want to marry you, have children with you and spend the rest of my life having adventures. But only with you at my side."
Anne stared at him. She couldn't believe it. He wanted her with him. He loved her.
Suddenly the tears came, but she found herself laughing. She threw herself into William's arms and hugged him. William laughed and hugged her back.
"I take it that's a yes."
"That's a yes." She kissed him, feeling William attempting to take control before she pulled back and grinned up at him. "I love you, William. You're not going anywhere without me. And I could do with an adventure."
William grinned. His eyes were sparkling. He picked her up and spun her round. Anne held on and laughed as he spun in circles before putting her down.
"I don't plan on leaving you behind if you marry me, I'll tell you that now." He kissed her again. "You're coming with me, Anne, no question about it."
Anne grinned. If it had been up to her, William wasn't going anywhere again without her.
"I like the sound of that."
William's smile widened, and he hugged her close.
"So do I."
*** The End ***
The Disenchanted Earl of
Highmere Castle
Regency Romance
Grace Fletcher
Chapter 1
The Ruined Library
“W e have a lot more work before it’s even close to what it once was.” Thomas Claymore said to his sister as he picked up yet another tattered book, and shook his head at it.
Emily, who was peeking inside its covers, nodded and shut the book with some guilt. She and her older brother were here to restore the historic Bradshaw library to its former magnificence. More often than not, she found herself distracted, slipping into the pages of one novel or another.
The library was housed in a large airy room with French windows that led into the expansive gardens of the Highmere estate. Home to Earl Damien Bradshaw, Highmere Castle was an elegant, gray stone building that had been built four centuries ago, by the same architect who had built England’s house of parliament. The castle was rectangular in shape, with a central tower watching over the rest. It stood on top of a green hill, with ivy climbing its walls, and lace-iron balconies at one end of each of its fifty-three rooms. When Thomas Claymore had been invited to stay the summer and promised a handsome sum if he helped restore the library, the squire from Sussex had jumped at the chance, as had his younger sister Emily.
The two were an unlikely pair. At eight-and-thirty, being eighteen years older, Thomas was more often mistaken as an uncle or a father to Emily. Their features, too, were rather different. While Thomas was tall and broad, at six feet in height, Emily was slight, though her figure was pleasingly round. While Thomas had silky black hair that often hung in front of his eyes, Emily had merry brown curls that perfectly matched her blue eyes.
Thomas brushed the hair out of his eyes now, as he carefully wrote down one title after another. The books had been taken down from their shelves, and neatly piled in columns all over the large Turkish carpet in the center of the room. The shelves looked rather morose, with their dark wood, and had light spots where the books had once rested.
“We’ve finished with about twenty shelves now,” Thomas said.
“How about the ones at the far end?” Emily asked. “We haven’t taken those books down yet.”
“I’ve asked Earl Bradshaw to help us,” Thomas said. “He told me that he’d send a man down soon enough.”
“Then you’ve met the earl?” Emily asked in delight. “What does he look like! Where is he?”
Thomas laughed. “No such luck. I sent him a message through his butler, and received word back in the form of a note.”
Emily sighed. “Rather odd, don’t you think? I thought he’d be the one to greet us when we came.”
“Well we’ve only been here a week, and Murgatroyd told us the earl is unwell. That would explain his absence.” Thomas said. There was a slight hint of doubt in his voice, however, and Emily gave a little laugh. “Don’t be silly, Thomas. You’ve heard the tales just as I have. Everyone at Buxly-at-arms warned us about his eccentricities.”
“Rubbish,” Thomas said. “It’s all whisperings and nonsense.”
“I wonder,” Emily said. “It isn’t normal, is it? A house this large should be filled with noise and laughter. But there’s a gloom about the place, a dreariness that hits you almost as soon as you enter.”
Thomas colored. “Just what did that impudent maid tell you?” He snapped. “There is no such thing as a curse!”
“A curse?” Emily looked astonished. This was the first she’d heard of a curse. The maid at the inn they’d rested in before they had arrived, had whispered something about Earl Bradshaw’s anti-social nature.
“Had a traveler here who stayed there a month, and never saw the shadow of him.” The maid had said. “Mark my words, he’s a strange man. Some say he’s never been the same since the war.”
Emily gave a shudder at the thought. But it couldn’t possibly be true. Thomas had received a letter from the earl, after all. She’d seen it herself. The handwriting had been robust and manly, the words crisp yet not rude. The letter had looked like it had been penned by a well-educated and well-bred man.
Yet, when they had reached the estate, they had been met by two massive iron doors with a large padlock. For a minute, Emily had felt weary, convinced that they would have to turn around and return home empty handed. Then, a man had come riding down the path. It was the butler, Murgatroyd. He had recognized them at once and showed them to their rooms in the east wing.
“You’ll spend most of your time in this part of the castle since it houses the library.” Murgatroyd had said. “There’ll be no need for you to go to the west wing.” His words, though delivered warmly, had seemed like a warning.
Now here they were, a week later, still in the process of restoring the library. There was much to be done. Some of the bookshelves had become worn with age, and bookworms had infested several of the books. But in Emily’s mind, what the library needed most was for someone to use it. Dust as thick as her finger covered every surface, and even though it wasn’t her job, Emily had taken to dusting each bookshelf as they emptied it of books. She also wiped them down with her own mix of vinegar and baking soda, to thoroughly clean them. How she wished she could hire a man to polish them too.
But of course, that was not her job. Her job, and her brother’s, was to catalog the books, and rearrange them in a well-organized manner. To what end? She wondered. The earl would clearly not be using them.
�
�The earl might be in mourning, you know,” Thomas said, suddenly.
“Mourning?” Emily asked.
“Yes. He only inherited his title in the last few years. He might still be mourning the death of his father.”
“I see,” Emily said. “Perhaps I have judged him harshly, then.”
“He’s had a hard life,” Thomas said. “The earl was the youngest brother. His older brother Richard died in battle. To lose your family when you are so young, it can affect a man.”
“As you ought to know,” Emily said, giving her brother’s hand a squeeze. She had only been five when her parents had died, and though she knew she ought to, the truth was that she hardly missed them at all. Thomas had brought her up, mostly on books and long walks. She'd had a fine childhood running wild in the woods behind their home. Still, she realized, it must have been a great sacrifice for her brother to make. He had given up his own life as a librarian at The University of Oxford, and come back home to raise her.
“I can never thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me,” Emily said. “The great pity is that you never married.”
“Oh, I’m a bachelor,” Thomas said. “Some of us were built that way. A lot of our relatives thought I was rather selfish, not marrying. They thought a woman in the house would give you a certain… polish.”
“Polish. How I hate that word.” Emily said. “Aunt Maybelle tried her hardest to give me some polish the last two summers by going to balls, dances, and entertaining. I much prefer your company, and the company of a good book, my dear brother.”
“Which worries me,” Thomas said. “I wouldn’t want you becoming an old spinster. I know you’re only twenty, Emily, but you must think very seriously about getting married. I shall not be around forever, and I’m afraid I cannot promise you any significant sum of money once I am gone.”
“There’s time enough to think of marriage.” Emily said, “You worry far too much, Thomas.”
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