by Laura Martin
A convenient betrothal
“It will save us both from scandal.”
Widowed three times over, Lady Anna Fortescue is used to ignoring the wagging tongues of the ton. After finding herself in a compromising position with handsome bachelor Lord Harry Edgerton, to avoid scandal she ends up engaged again. The arrangement may be one of convenience, but as Anna finds herself unable to resist Harry’s charms, she realizes the betrothal may have its benefits...
“The sweet romance that blossoms between them may bring a deep sigh from readers who adore a love story that makes the impossible seem realistic.”
—RT Book Reviews on A Ring for the Pregnant Debutante
“A sweet, adventurous romance.”
—RT Book Reviews on Governess to the Sheikh
“Thankfully the world thinks we are engaged,” Anna said, “or this would be an even bigger scandal than us being discovered together at the Prendersons’ ball.”
All the same she peered out into the darkness carefully, judging her moment to return to the ballroom. Just as she was about to dash out from the alcove Harry caught her hand.
“Dance with me,” he said.
“Here? Don’t be silly.”
“No one can see us.”
“People will be wondering where we are.”
“Let them wonder.”
“This whole engagement is to try to minimize the scandal attached to our names, not increase it.”
“Dance with me.”
He saw her hesitate, torn between returning to the safety of the ballroom and sharing another wonderful waltz. The music from the ballroom was audible down here, muffled by the chatter of people on the terrace, but still good enough to dance to.
For an instant he thought she would and he felt his heart leap in his chest, and then she was gone, her dress swishing behind her, her head bent low as she fled back to the safety of the ballroom.
Author Note
I’m lucky to be surrounded in life by strong women, women who inspire and motivate me, women who are the very best at what they do. Lady Anna Fortescue, the heroine in An Earl to Save Her Reputation, is based on many of these women, and from the very first page when writing I knew this would be her book.
Domestic violence was as much a problem in the Regency era as it is now, with most of the laws favoring husbands and disregarding the right of women to live safely in their own homes. With Anna I hope I have managed to portray how even the strongest of women can be left struggling immensely in such an awful situation, and how life-changing such abuse can be.
I really hope you love Anna as much as I do, and save a little of your heart for Harry, the man who just wants to make her smile.
LAURA MARTIN
An Earl to Save Her Reputation
Laura Martin writes historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing, she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, UK, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book, and has been known to read from cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel—especially to visit historical sites and far-flung shores.
Books by Laura Martin
Harlequin Historical
The Pirate Hunter
Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Under a Desert Moon
A Ring for the Pregnant Debutante
An Unlikely Debutante
An Earl to Save Her Reputation
The Governess Tales
Governess to the Sheikh
The Eastway Cousins
An Earl in Want of a Wife
Heiress on the Run
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Excerpt from A Warriner to Seduce Her by Virginia Heath
Excerpt from Kept by the Viking by Gina Conkle
Chapter One
‘Three husbands in six years. If I didn’t know it to be true, I wouldn’t think it possible.’
‘And the rumours of how those poor men died...’
‘She might have a pretty face, but I wouldn’t want any relative of mine becoming embroiled with her. One can only guess what will happen to husband number four.’
‘It’s nothing short of scandalous how she’s swanning around this ballroom. Hardly out of mourning and she’s all smiles and laughter.’
‘And insisting she continue to run that grubby little business of her second husband. It’s not ladylike and it’s not proper.’
Anna closed her eyes for a moment before pressing herself further into the recess of the ballroom. The two women who were gossiping openly and maliciously were shielded from view by a tall, lush potted plant. But one of them only needed to move a few inches to their right or left and they would catch sight of Anna desperately trying to avoid them.
The words themselves didn’t hurt. She had been married three times and all three husbands had died within a year of their marriage. Anna was well aware of the less-than-complimentary names she was called by the spiteful matrons and wide-eyed debutantes. Murderer, husband killer, black widow. It didn’t seem to matter to them that it just wasn’t true and Anna had learnt long ago that it was better to let people speculate than to fuel the gossip with denials and pleas to be left alone.
Despite becoming hardened to the infamy, Anna hated the sort of situation she found herself in right now. She wished she could just slink away without anyone noticing her presence.
‘Lady Fortescue, how pleasant to see you again after so long,’ a man Anna vaguely recognised called out in a voice that seemed to echo off the walls. From her position behind the plant pot Anna saw the two gossips turning to look her way. There was no escaping their line of sight.
Straightening her back, dropping her shoulders and lifting her chin, adopting the posture that made her look more confident even if she didn’t feel it, Anna stepped out of the recess and into the ballroom. She acknowledged the man with a polite incline of her head, then turned to fix the two women with a glacial stare.
‘Give my regards to your brother, Mrs Weston. Such a darling man,’ Anna said, before gliding away as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Anna wasn’t sure if Mrs Weston even had a brother, they’d certainly never been introduced, but the small deception was worth it for the look of abject horror on both wo
men’s faces.
Anna needed to get away. With a quick glance across the ballroom she saw Beatrice, her young cousin who she had agreed to chaperon for the Season, dancing a lively cotillion, her face lit up by a sunny smile and her chest heaving from the exertion. Beatrice would be unlikely to require Anna’s attention for a few minutes at least, so quickly Anna slipped out of the ballroom.
It was noticeably cooler in the hallway and there was a scent of freshly cut flowers mixed with the smell of hundreds of burning candles. Even out here small groups gathered, glad to be away from the heat and crowds in the ballroom for a few minutes, and Anna had to force herself to walk calmly past them rather than pick up her skirts and run. She just wanted some privacy, or even better anonymity, to be able to enjoy the music and dancing without everyone talking about her behind their hands.
As she ventured further from the ballroom the hallway became quieter. Anna felt her heart beginning to slow and the panic that had seized her only moments before start to subside. She tried one door handle, then another, finding an unlocked door on her third attempt. Quickly she slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.
It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the darkness after the brilliantly lit hallway, but after a while Anna could make out the lines of bookshelves against the walls and the shapes of a few comfortable chairs with a desk at one end. This was some sort of study or library, the perfect retreat for a few moments’ peace. Before long she would have to steel herself for another round of sideways looks and malicious gossip in the ballroom, but right now she would just enjoy the solitude.
Anna lowered herself into a high-backed chair, her posture rigid even though no one else would see her. Her late husband, her latest late husband, had been a stickler for good posture and impeccable manners. Anna had learnt quickly to glide slowly around the house, sit with a straight back and never let any emotion show on her face. The punishment for breaking these rules was unmerciful, like many of Lord Fortescue’s whims.
Closing her eyes, she listened to the distant hum of conversation from the ballroom and the first faint notes of a waltz. Even through the background noise Anna noticed the sound of hurried footsteps getting closer, but before she could move the door to the study opened and two people slipped inside. It was apparent immediately that Anna’s unwanted companions were a man and a woman, and by the excited whispers and scent of champagne she could only assume they were here for some secret assignation.
‘Your husband won’t miss you?’ the man said, as Anna heard the rustle of silk.
‘Old fool is at the gaming tables—he wouldn’t notice a stampede of wild horses.’
Anna wondered if she should stand and make her presence known. The last thing she wanted was to become embroiled in this couple’s illicit affair, but she didn’t much desire to be witness to their intimacy either.
She’d just gripped the armrests, ready to push herself up, when the door opened for a second time. Anna heard the couple freeze, then spring apart in a rustle of fabric and clatter of shoes. The light of a candle illuminated the room, causing the shadows to lengthen around her. She sank back into the chair, fervently hoping that the new guest would scare away the couple and then leave her in peace.
‘My apologies,’ a deep, slightly amused voice said. Anna analysed the tone and intonation, but was sure she had never met this newcomer before. Even after being removed from society for the past couple of years she still was familiar with most of the aristocratic gentlemen who frequented these balls, but this man she did not think she recognised.
The young woman gasped theatrically and ran from the room.
‘Edgerton.’
‘Wilbraham.’
The two men greeted each other with just a single word which suggested they knew one another at least passably well. The silence stretched out uncomfortably as Anna in her hidden position held her breath and willed both men to leave.
‘You won’t say anything, old chap?’
‘No. Not my place.’
Footsteps and the closing of the door followed, but the candlelight still illuminated the room and Anna could hear the light breathing of one of the gentlemen.
Wondering whether to make a dash for the door, Anna shifted in her chair just as the newcomer came into view.
‘Good evening,’ he said, no trace of surprise at finding her sitting in the high-back chair evident in either his face or his voice.
‘Good evening.’ Despite her thumping heart Anna managed to sound poised and calm. Years of practice at maintaining a serene façade came in useful sometimes.
‘Looking for a little peace?’
‘Yes.’ Anna kept her voice clipped and icy, hoping the gentleman would understand she wanted to be left alone.
She watched as he sauntered around the study, opening cupboards and cabinets until he came across what he was looking for: a bottle of whisky and two short glasses.
‘Can’t abide champagne,’ the gentleman said, pouring out two generous measures of the caramel-coloured liquid. ‘And punch is even worse.’
He held out one of the glasses, waiting for Anna to take it before he sat down in the chair next to hers. Taking a gulp, he examined the liquid thoughtfully before chuckling softly.
‘What’s so funny?’ Anna asked, regretting the question as soon as it passed her lips. She knew better than to engage.
‘Prendy’s servants are watering down his whisky,’ he said, raising the glass to his lips for another taste.
‘Prendy’s?’
‘Lord Prenderson. Our host.’
‘You know him well?’
‘Doesn’t everyone know everyone else?’
Anna was just about to bid her companion farewell when he fixed her with a penetrating stare.
‘Although I don’t think we’ve ever met.’ He regarded her, letting his eyes sweep from the top of her head, across her features and down over her body. ‘I’m sure I’d remember.’
The polite thing would be to introduce herself, yet Anna stood abruptly, set her untouched glass on the table and took a step towards the door.
‘I wouldn’t go out there just yet if I were you.’
She took another step forward.
‘Bad idea.’
Two more steps. In another few seconds she would be out of the study and heading back towards the crowds.
‘It’s your choice, of course, but the gossips would be delighted to find you in here unchaperoned.’
Anna stiffened, closing her eyes for a brief few seconds before turning slowly and facing her companion.
‘Gossips?’
‘A group of middle-aged matrons are recovering from the heat of the ballroom out in the hall. I’m sure it would not escape their notice that you were in here with Lord Wilbraham and Mrs Featherstone.’ He frowned as if something had just occurred to him. ‘What were you planning on doing if they’d decided to further their intimacy?’
‘In the study? So close to the ballroom? I hardly think that was likely,’ Anna said, her voice dry and her face serene.
‘I understand some people find the danger exciting.’
Anna knew he was teasing her now, but instead of rising to the bait she changed the subject.
‘When will it be safe to exit, Mr Edgerton?’
‘Lord Edgerton,’ he corrected absently. ‘And now you have me at a disadvantage.’
‘Lady Fortescue,’ Anna supplied reluctantly.
He fixed her with a curious gaze that told her he’d heard the rumours. All the rumours.
‘The notorious Lady Fortescue,’ he murmured.
‘You’re not meant to say that,’ Anna said, adding under her breath, ‘At least not to my face.’
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Fortescue,’ Edgerton said, standing and taking her hand, bringing it to his lips after a few seconds.
This close Anna could appreciate his physical size. He was at least a foot taller than her and sported broad shoulders that filled his jacket perfectly. For the first time since he’d entered, Anna realised the folly of being alone with this man. It wasn’t just the scandal that could occur if they were discovered, but the risk he might take advantage. Slowly she stepped back. He didn’t look as though he were about to pounce on her, but history had shown her to be a poor judge of character. Kind eyes and a relaxed manner didn’t mean a man was trustworthy.
* * *
Harry saw the flash of fear in Lady Fortescue’s eyes before the stony façade once again concealed her emotions. Quickly he stepped back, realising it was him she was afraid of. That had never been his intention, to scare the poor woman—he’d been called many things in his life, but frightening was not one of them.
‘Let me check the hallway,’ he said, summoning his friendliest smile.
Crossing to the doorway, he opened the door a crack and peered out. The group of meddling matrons still stood fanning themselves and chattering ten feet away. There was no way past them, at least not without being seen.
‘Still there. I’m sure they will return to the ballroom shortly.’
Harry returned to his chair and sat, watching Lady Fortescue out of the corner of his eye. When she’d introduced herself he’d been unable to stop from staring. Normally so in control of his reactions, he’d been thrown by her identity. She was notorious, perhaps the most notorious widow in society at the present time. Married three times before the age of twenty-five, her latest husband, Lord Fortescue, in the ground for twelve months now. He’d expected her to look different somehow, perhaps more exotic. Instead a perfectly pleasant-looking young woman stood before him. She was pretty, but not any more so than most of the young debutantes. He couldn’t deny she had poise and grace, but there was a coolness about her that hinted at a reserved character and a tendency to shun company. Her most intriguing feature were her eyes. Cool and grey, they seemed impenetrable. Normally a young woman’s eyes gave away her emotions, but not Lady Fortescue’s. If eyes were the window to the soul, then Lady Fortescue’s were shuttered and barred against intruders.
