The Earl's Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

  Yes, Donnelly and Ashten now conversed about the House of Lords and the current bills being heard in parliament. She sipped her tea, and whispered, “I taunted Donnelly as ruthlessly as I could.”

  “You did?” Maria gasped then covered her mouth. “About what, pray tell?”

  “The two of us, although he firmly believes there’s simply too much danger for us to be together, so I’m afraid there shall be no return of the relationship we had before he rode out with the hussars.”

  “Oh dear, that is a shame.” Maria slumped back. “I had so hoped you’d be my sister one day.”

  “One never knows what the future holds. Perhaps we still shall, but that’ll depend on your brother.” She gently touched her palm to Maria’s cheek. “We’ll have to see.”

  “We will always be sisters of the heart.” Maria covered her hand with hers, then caught Ellie’s hand too. “It is at difficult times like these that one needs their friends close. It means the world to me that you’re both here.”

  “We shall come as often as you need.” Ellie rubbed Maria’s hand. “You are very dear to us.”

  “Very dear.” Sophia hugged Maria, her heart hurting for her dear friend and all she’d lost.

  “Is all well?” Donnelly asked as he eyed his sister, worry creasing his brow.

  “Yes, all is well.” Maria smiled at him, although her eyes had swelled with tears and even though she tried heartedly hard to blink them away, two slipped free and trailed down her cheeks. “My heart is less burdened now that I have these two ladies here today.”

  “I’m glad we could ease your burden.” Sophia slipped her handkerchief from her reticule, and wiped Maria’s tears away.

  “You don’t appear less burdened.” Donnelly raised a warning finger at her. “Sophia, if you continue to make my sister cry, I shall toss you out.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Maria made a choking sound, or perhaps it was more a restrained laugh. Yes, definitely a laugh. The sparkle had returned to Maria’s eyes and the watery threat of tears now gone. With a lift of her brow, Maria continued, “So, my dear brother, what have you and His Grace been discussing while we’ve been nattering?”

  Very clever. Maria always knew the right time to sidetrack her brother’s questioning by directing the conversation back at him.

  “Parliament, and the current bill being heard.”

  “We’ve also been discussing Trevithick and his interesting new invention,” Ashten declared as he crossed the room, his cane in hand. He eased down onto the settee across from them. “Have you heard of him?”

  “I’m not sure.” Maria tapped her chin. “What has he invented?”

  “The locomotive Catch Me Who Can.”

  “Oh, then I have heard of him,” she bubbled as she glanced at her brother as he seated himself next to Ashten. “Father took me to see Trevithick’s steam circus two years past, while you and George were in the country. It was one shilling for a ride, but Trevithick’s venture suffered from weak tracks and came to a premature end. Did you get the chance to ride the locomotive?” she asked Donnelly.

  “I did, before its closure, and Father mentioned taking you to visit the steam circus.” Elbows to his knees, Donnelly held his brandy glass between his hands. A touch of late afternoon sunshine streaming through the wide window caught the glass and sprinkled prisms of pretty brandy-colored light across the cream carpet. “What about you, Sophia? Did you ever get the chance to visit the steam circus?”

  “I visited it with Harry when he was home on leave.” She touched her chest, her memory from that wonderful day with her brother warming her heart. “Afterward, he handed me Trevithick’s journal to read, which is kept on the most prominent shelf in Winterly’s study. Both my brothers have been fascinated by Trevithick’s inventions and engineering projects. I even read about the inventor’s unsuccessful attempt at driving a tunnel under the River Thames. Such a shame it collapsed. We could have used such a tunnel.”

  “You are well apprised about the man.” Donnelly tipped a make-believe hat to her.

  “I’m always eager to learn. Perhaps you could explain what Trevithick’s interesting new invention is? I’d certainly like to hear about it.”

  “Of course.” He took a swig of his brandy. “Trevithick’s been working on various ideas for improvements regarding ships, including floating docks, telescopic iron masts, as well as using heat from onboard boilers for cooking. He’s even been working on detailed drawings of iron ships themselves. It’s all rather fascinating.”

  “An iron ship? How intriguing. He’s a clever man indeed if he can design such a ship to float on water.” She selected a delicate cake from the afternoon tea platter, one with sunshine-yellow icing. “After I first read Trevithick’s journal, I couldn’t help but wonder if his steam-driven engines might one day mean travel by iron rail could become our nation’s preferred choice of journeying from place to place. What do you think?”

  “Steam engines are the way of the future. We shall soon be traveling by iron rail, a revolutionary new way, which will save us a great deal of time.” He chose the same delicacy she had and bit into it, his hazel eyes shifting in color, the green becoming more dominant over the brown, just as they always did when his interest was piqued.

  She’d noted that about him the first night they’d met, during an unfortunate moment when she’d been rescuing a kitten from the branches of a tree. She’d toppled, and when he’d caught her, she hadn’t missed his eyes changing color under the moonlight.

  “Oh, I’ve just had a wonderful idea.” Ellie clasped hers and Maria’s hands. “The three of us should visit the British Museum. I read in the paper there’s an engineering exhibit, which includes a display of Trevithick’s works. We can peruse it, and all the other wonderful displays on offer.”

  “It’s been an age since I last visited the museum and I’d adore a trip there.” An excited answer from Maria. “Father always said that to expand one’s mind, one must be prepared to embrace all avenues of learning. May I go, James?” she asked her brother.

  “Of course. I have no issue with you visiting the museum.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned with pleasure. “When are you both free?” she asked her and Ellie. “On the morrow, perhaps?”

  “I’m certainly free then.” Ellie eyed Sophia. “Does that day suit you and Olivia? She won’t wish to miss out on this trip.”

  “That sounds perfect, and yes, we’re both free. I’ll inform Olivia about the museum trip when I return home.”

  “Then it’s agreed, on the morrow it shall be.” Ellie selected a pastry. “On my last trip to the museum I saw Sir Hans Sloane’s enviable collection of curiosities, as well as a newly arrived display of Greek, Roman, and Egyptian artifacts. It kept me entertained for hours, Olivia too since she was with me. Where were you that day?” Her sister eyed her. “You weren’t able to join us. I distinctly remember that.”

  She and James had taken a ride through Hyde Park. Six months ago that had been, the day when she and James had kissed for the first time. He’d pecked her cheek while her chaperone hadn’t been looking, but still, even with the brief kiss, her heart had lifted. She’d known he was the one. Unfortunately, his earlier words reverberated through her mind in stark contrast to that kiss. There’s simply too much danger for us to be together.

  Goodness, but she would accept any danger to be with him, if only she could make him understand that. With her lashes lowered, she breathed slowly in and out and tried to lift the heavy weight her thoughts had dumped down on her.

  “She was with me.” Soft words from Donnelly.

  She lifted her lashes and met his gaze, a flicker of hope returning. “You remember that ride?”

  “I’ll never forget it.”

  “Neither will I.” They’d had such a wonderful day. After they’d reached the park, they’d walked alongside the Serpentine, the glistening waters of the river weaving through the royal parkland. James had chosen a spot under t
he trees where no others could intrude on them, then flapped out a blanket. They’d sat and enjoyed a picnic and sweet conversation.

  She faced Ellie with a smile. “The day you and Olivia visited the museum, I took a ride in Hyde Park with Donnelly.”

  “Oh, yes, that’s right. I remember now.” Her sister squeezed her hand. “Perhaps you and Olivia can collect me from Blackgale House in Winterly’s coach, then we can drive by and pick up Maria?”

  “That’s a wonderful idea. We’ll collect you on the morrow at eleven. Does that time suit?”

  “Yes, I’ll be ready and waiting.”

  “We’re going to have such a lovely day.” She chose a scone smeared in jam, a mound of cream topping it, then moaned as she took a hearty bite. “Oh, Ellie, you must try one of these scones. They rival our cook’s, and no one makes them more divine than her.”

  “The scones do look heavenly.” Ellie plucked a scone from the tray and bit into it. “Mmm, superb. Would you like a bite, Ashten?” Her sister waved the remaining half of hers temptingly at him, the cream wobbling precariously on the top.

  “I shall leave you to devour your scone, but I will partake of one of these divine looking meringues.” Ashten chose one of the meringues with the largest topping of cream and somehow managed to put the entire thing into his mouth. Ellie laughed and Ashten chuckled.

  After finishing her tea, Sophia rose and set her cup down on the side table. Spotting a new painting adorning one wall, she strolled across and gently traced one finger along the edge of the polished wooden frame.

  The picture itself held a castle with one turreted tower built high on a cliff overlooking the ocean, heather surrounding it with white clouds bobbing across a blue sky and seagulls soaring overhead. So wild, yet also serene.

  Donnelly wandered across to her, glanced at the painting, then at her. “This is a new piece, one which arrived only last week, the same day I returned home.”

  “Since it holds a prime position in your drawing room, it must hold a great deal of value to you and your family.” It had been placed for all to see.

  “Value of the heart, yes. I first visited Castle Craignish as a child, and rode those Scottish clifftops with my father.” His gaze softened as he soaked in the stunning image, the paint strokes gloriously wide, just as the rugged landscape was. “I don’t visit the castle often enough, and now I’ve inherited it along with the rest of my father’s property and possessions. I’m hoping to journey to Scotland in the summer when the roads are more passable, but only if I’ve completed my current investigations, otherwise the trip will need to wait until the next summer.”

  “The sea air will be good for you and Maria.”

  “It certainly will.”

  She understood his decision to unearth the killer, but he was also making plans to take himself even farther away from her once his investigations were done, and he seemed to have no issue doing so. He must truly wish to let her go. Her heart squeezed in on itself.

  “Did I say something to upset you?” He softly brushed the backs of his knuckles across her cheek. “There are tears in your eyes.”

  “No, I’m simply thinking of your father and brother.” Blinking hard, she forced the unshed tears away. “You loved them dearly and your mission to uncover the truth is a worthy one.”

  “They would expect no less of me, to find their killer and to ensure justice prevailed.” He lowered his hand to his side.

  “I’m glad you’re not taking the runner’s verdict as it stands.” She wandered around the room toward another painting, and Donnelly followed.

  “There is another newly arrived painting if you wish to see it, a portrait my father insisted I sit for before leaving with the hussars. I had it hung in the library where he always enjoyed sitting to read.”

  “May I see it?” The library was one of her favorite places in this house.

  “Of course, but—” He glanced at the others immersed in their conversation. “I shouldn’t leave my guests.”

  “You don’t need to show me the way.” She motioned toward the side door. “Might I take the rear passageway to the library?”

  “There have been renovations in the rear wing and workmen are still completing their final tasks. There’s a bit of a mess to navigate.” He called out to the others. “Please excuse me while I escort Sophia to the library. She wishes to see one of the paintings my father recently had commissioned. We won’t be long.”

  “Take as long as you need.” Maria waved him off then returned to her conversation with Ellie and Ashten, the three immersed in their discussion.

  “Come, right this way.” Donnelly opened the side door and gestured her through.

  “Thank you.” She walked along the passageway. “I recently borrowed one of your father’s travel books and haven’t returned it yet. I shall do so soon.”

  “Take as long as you wish with it. Which book?”

  “The Voyages of Marco Polo.”

  “Ah, that’s one of my favorites.” A firm nod, his gaze tipped toward hers.

  “It has kept me up at night with all its intrigue.”

  “As it did for me. It certainly inspires one’s desire for travel to the east.”

  “Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the cultural riches Marco Polo showcased of China. I would dearly love to visit the lands he spoke of.” She skirted around a wooden crate with tools upon it. Three men in paint splattered work shirts and dusty trousers worked in the room to the side, one whistling as he painted.

  “Even though that would mean traveling along the dangerous Silk Road?” Donnelly caught her hand and threaded it through his bent elbow, then guided her around several more cans of paint and drop cloths covering the polished floorboards.

  “Again, you say danger, whereas I would say intrigue alone awaits along that route.”

  “What about Marco Polo’s decision to enter the court of Kublai Kahn? Have you gotten to that part of the book yet?”

  “Yes, where he won the trust of the most feared and reviled leader of his day. Such an adventure he had.” Pressing her hand to her heart, she solemnly declared, “One day I shall travel to faraway shores, to the east or to the west, and those travels will be an adventure. You are not the only one who wishes to get away from town this coming summer.”

  “Is that right?” he murmured, his tone teasing, one brow cocked high. “And how exactly do you intend on traveling to the east or to the west?” He slowed his step as he passed portraits of several of the Donnelly earls who’d come before him, his gaze momentarily taken by them. “There is a war, remember?”

  “Yes, but one can’t allow the war to dominate their lives.”

  “True, but one must also take every precaution to ensure their safety while traveling. Winterly will need to supervise any trip you wish to undertake.”

  “Or I could simply find myself a husband and ask him to take me traveling. Never forget, that is an option.” She passed a corner stand with an arrangement of fragrant white roses blooming within a stylish crystal vase, then turned the corner and walked into the library. Sunshine spilled through the elegant latticed windows overlooking the rear grassy lawn, while outside a short marble column held a wide basin atop it, water pooled within and two sparrows splashing about. She let her hand slip free of Donnelly’s elbow, the man himself having gone quiet since her last remark. She strolled alongside the mahogany shelves, row after row of leather-bound books stacked upon it.

  “There is the portrait.” Donnelly motioned toward the painting hanging at the end of the shelves. “I expect your honest opinion on it.”

  “Oh my.” She couldn’t keep her smile at bay as she crossed to the magnificent piece. In the painting, he sat atop a sleek black stallion, his buff breeches molding his strong thighs and his riding boots buckled an inch below his knees. With his white shirt open at the neck, James Hargrove, the Earl of Donnelly, appeared wild and carefree, as she’d never seen him before. “It’s absolutely stunning,” she whispered.<
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  “It’s certainly unlike any portrait taken of a Donnelly earl to date.” A murmur from directly behind her, then he wandered off and leaned one shoulder against the window frame. His dark brown hair was slightly mussed, the longer strands curling around his neck, his impeccably tied black cravat tugged loose at one side.

  “The artist has captured your personality as well as your image in the most divine way.” She clutched her rose-colored skirts and walked across the large width of the burgundy oval mat between them until she stood toe to toe with him. “You look dashing in your portrait. I could stare at it all day, James.”

  “Donnelly.” His hazel eyes glittered.

  “My apologies. I could stare at it all day, Donnelly.” He seemed far too insistent she not call him by his given name as she had while he’d been courting her, which was interesting, and clearly his way of instilling even more distance between them. She arched a brow, her rebellious side rising, her desire to argue right back flaring strongly through her. “Jamaica, that’s where I’d like to travel to. Your father spoke about your uncle who is stationed there with his regiment. John, he said his name was, that his brother is a major and a great deal younger than him, by twenty years. He also mentioned that his brother is currently looking for a wife, an English wife from the peerage. Perhaps you might be able to give me his address. I could ask Winterly to write to him and see if he has any interest in—”

  “My uncle is certainly looking for an English wife, but it shan’t be you.” He caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss across her gloved knuckles, the look in his eyes painstakingly tender, which churned her insides into a terrible mess.

  “I would make a good wife, and I adapt well to changes. I would adore living in Jamaica.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do.”

  “What would that be?” She settled one hand over his heart, his skin pulsing with warmth through the layers of his clothing.