by Morgan King
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 Morgan King
ISBN: 978-1-77130-296-8
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Karyn White
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
This story was written using a little bit of the love and strength given to me by so many over the years. Thank you to my teacher Mr Bark whom I promised to dedicate my fist book to when I was 12, who knew then what it would turn out to be! Thank you to the ladies of the EZ who have kept the inspiration flowing. And last but not least thank you to my family and friends who have shown me the meaning of love in all its forms.
DUTY TO LOVE
Morgan King
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Arthur, Earl of Hentonbury, returned the quill he was holding to its stand, taking care not to drip ink across his papers in the process. It sounded as if his morning peace was to be disturbed. He had expected the arrival of his younger brother James today, just not so early.
Hearing James's fast approach it was easy to guess his mood—angry, undoubtedly angry. Not unexpected in the circumstances. Arthur eased out from behind his desk, moving to strike a nonchalant stance in front of the imposing piece of furniture. Just because James’s anger might be justified didn't mean Arthur would greet him at a disadvantage, or allow James to take charge of the coming confrontation.
Arthur, as the older brother—and consequently the Earl of Hentonbury—was used to being in charge. The responsibility for myriad decisions rested on his shoulders. Being in control was a necessity if the weight of that responsibility wasn't to crush him. He always tried to be fair, but ultimately his decisions were final. This had never adversely affected his relationship with James, until now.
The study door swung open, moving with speed despite its heavy weight. Arthur looked up, relieved to see his brother in the flesh once again. It had been over a year since James had last been home on leave from the army.
As brothers they had been close growing up. Arthur had always looked out for James, with his greater propensity for getting into mischief, and, when their father had little time for matters not concerning his estates and the money they could generate for him, Arthur had ensured James received an education equal to his own. Arthur had respected James's desire to decide the course of his own life and join the army, even though he would rather he'd chosen a safer career.
Now their relationship was facing its greatest test. Tomorrow Arthur was to marry Amelia, the lady he was fully aware his brother loved.
James did not bother to greet Arthur. His words burst into the room announcing his arrival for him. “How could you? Amelia is mine.”
The long stride of James’s legs quickly brought his six foot frame within inches of Arthur. If Arthur weren't of equal height he might have felt intimidated. As it was, James's time with the Army had given him a degree of muscle and presence he hadn't had before.
Sensing the condemnation he was facing Arthur thought it best to interrupt early. “Amelia is not a possession to be owned by either one of us, but she has consented to be my wife.”
Saying the words “my wife” in connection with Amelia gave Arthur a secret thrill. He couldn’t help thinking how very much he wanted Amelia to be his wife. He couldn’t wait to have and to hold her.
“Forced, more like it. Her father probably threatened her with banishment to Scotland if she refused,” James said, visibly vibrating with anger.
Arthur tried to retain his composure in response. “However much you might wish it I assure you that is not the case. When I presented my proposal—and present it direct to Amelia I did—she gave me every assurance that she would be honored to be my wife and that she felt sure we would find happiness together. Why wouldn’t she want to be the Countess of Hentonbury?” Arthur felt the need to remind himself and James that he was in fact honoring Amelia by offering her the position of Countess. He was willing to find hope in any reason for why Amelia would want to marry him specifically.
"Amelia and I may not have had an understanding, but you knew my intentions, my feelings.” James's anger faltered, and his speech lost momentum. “How could you? How could you when you don't love her?”
How could he indeed? It was a question Arthur had asked himself repeatedly over the past few weeks, but not because he didn't love her. He loved Amelia. Up ‘til now he had only ever admitted it to himself. Having never allowed himself to dwell on it he hadn't realized the full extent of his feelings until Amelia's father requested he marry her. Once given the opportunity to envisage Amelia as his wife his feelings of affection, admiration, and desire for her had grown at an alarming rate.
Imagining marriage to Amelia was like imagining happiness, not quite believable but excruciatingly tempting. The trouble was he knew that marriage to Amelia couldn't really bring happiness, not while James was also in love with her.
“I do love her.” Arthur didn't find it as difficult to admit his feelings as he'd thought he would. He had imagined telling Amelia he loved her on their wedding night, giving her his heart as she gave him her body, not sure if the words would really come when the time to say them arrived. Now he was sure they would.
James should also know how he felt; it was only fair to be honest with him. Maybe it would help him accept that Arthur was going to marry Amelia. Tomorrow. Arthur was determined on it.
He had hoped that James would be back in England before now, that this confrontation could have taken place earlier, that they could have had time to reconcile before he and Amelia married, but right now he was glad that there was no time for him or Amelia to change their minds. Whatever James might say Amelia was going to his, his wife, his to love.
James shook his head “But what about Francine? You were engaged to be married to Amelia's sister. Her sister!”
“You had news of Francine’s death James. I know you did, for you sent your condolences to the family. I mourned Francine, just as her family did, but she’s gone. She’s been gone a year now. And you know why I was to marry Francine. It wasn't love but duty.” The truth was so much of his life was ruled by duty, that marrying Amelia for more than just duty would be a blessed relief.
“Marrying Amelia will still allow me to fulfill my obligation to Francine and Amelia's father, and there will be love, on my part at the very least.” Arthur regretted that Amelia wasn't being given a completely open choice, that love wasn't to be the only factor in their marriage.
Arthur was marrying Amelia not just because of his love for her but because four years ago he had signed a contract with Jason Whitmore, Amelia’s father, agreeing to marry his daughter in exchange for a dowry of £30,000. Initially the plan was for him to marry Francine, but that had all changed upon Francine's death a year ago.
“I understood why you were to marry Francine. You would have made a good match regardless of it being a business deal, but why Amelia? If you must marry for money why not find another rich heiress and leave Amelia free to marry me? Just because you’d agreed to marry Francine doesn’t mean you had to give Whitmore the satisfaction of proposing to Amelia as well when circumstances changed,” James said, turning to pace towards the door and back.
“It’s not
that simple.”
Due to the debts Arthur had inherited along with the title upon his father's death four years ago Arthur had felt compelled to enter into a marriage of convenience. An alliance with his neighbor Jason Whitmore had seemed like an obvious move. The wealthy bank manager spent most of his time in the city but two decades ago had bought Creswell House, the closest property of any size within easy distance of Henton Hall, in order to establish his family in the country. Consequently Arthur had known Whitmore's daughters Francine and Amelia since childhood.
It hadn't been more than two months after the former Earl of Hentonbury's funeral before Jason Whitmore had called on Arthur, making him aware that his financial position was no secret and that the obvious solution lay in marriage to Francine. The suggestion of marriage to Francine wasn't even a surprise. Arthur had known that his father had also intended a match for them. His father had just failed to get around to arranging anything while alive, probably because the dowry wouldn't have come to him.
The negotiations between Arthur and Francine's father couldn't have been pleasanter. Whitmore had been excessively accommodating, happy to give Arthur a down payment on the dowry in order that Arthur could settle with his creditors as well as letting him have a couple of years to get his affairs in order before the marriage need take place. To give Whitmore his due he wanted his daughter to be happy as a Countess.
No longer compelled to return James’s stare, Arthur moved to pour himself a drink. “I understood, we all understood, that I was to marry Francine, but the contract I signed with Whitmore didn’t specify which daughter. It was an oversight on my part and a canny move on Whitmore's. According to the contract I am obliged to marry a Whitmore daughter, and as we both well know Amelia is now his only daughter.”
Some days Arthur felt bitter that he had been so skillfully manipulated. Whitmore had been determined to gain a connection to the Hentonbury title for a long time, no matter the cost.
“Pour me one, would you?” James paused his pacing long enough to take the measure of whiskey Arthur poured him. Maybe it would calm him down. Arthur could hope.
“Surely you could cancel the contract. Have you even talked to a lawyer?” James asked.
“I’ve spent the money,” said Arthur with a bluntness he rarely directed at James.
“Spent the money?” James appeared incredulous, although really it shouldn’t be a surprise. James knew the debts their father had left behind. Arthur had assumed it was one of the reasons James had been so keen to be able to support himself in the Army, not to be an additional burden on Arthur.
“Yes, I have received and spent a substantial sum of Whitmore’s money. I would have married Francine two years ago, except her health took a sharp decline. Following her death, the whole family was plunged into mourning, but still Whitmore found time to visit me and bring the finer details of the contract to my attention.”
That was putting it politely, Arthur thought.
“It is my honor at stake. Whitmore would have every right to call me out if I refused to marry Amelia. More likely he would see my reputation ruined, and I would be unable to get credit or find another suitable bride anywhere.” Arthur lifted his glass and drained half the contents. “I am conscious of my duty in the situation, but let us be clear. I want to marry Amelia.”
Arthur had known for years that while he liked and admired Francine it was Amelia who could stir his deeper feelings if he acknowledged them.
Francine, poised, quietly caring, and loyal, with a good head for management, would have made an excellent countess. Amelia, by contrast, was passionate, headstrong, and full of an energy that drew others to her and enabled her to befriend everyone.
Amelia was all natural woman, a stunning combination of lithe limbs and generous curves. She seemed unencumbered by a rigid posture, so often maintained by other women; vitality seemed to flow through all her limbs. Even her hair seemed full of life with its wayward curls. Her hair was a rich woody brown, but where sunlight had danced through her curls copper trails had been left behind. The shine of her hair along with the kiss of freckles spoke of nature’s pleasure in her.
Arthur took a great deal of pleasure in being in Amelia's company. She distracted him from being too serious. She teased him; as did the thought of taking pleasure in touching her whenever he was with her. Every time she tucked a wayward curl behind her ear he had to resist the urge to set it free, to look her in the eyes, to challenge her for control.
Amelia’s eyes were a fascinating light brown, forthright, and giving of her undivided attention. Looking into Amelia's eyes it was always too easy to become enchanted.
Arthur longed to have her eyes focused on his body, to watch as her eyes expressed a dawning awareness of him as a man. Her gaze would be hot, a physical caress.
Arthur was inclined to think that James also spent an equally ridiculous amount of time imagining the pure sensual enjoyment of being with Amelia, a woman who never held back in anything she did.
It had always been Amelia whom both James and Arthur loved and desired.
To anyone looking in and observing the three of them, Arthur had loved both James and Amelia like an older brother while James and Amelia had been the best of friends.
Arthur had known the truth though. He knew the minute that James began to see Amelia as more than a friend; he recognized the look of longing that he didn’t allow to reach his own eyes.
Knowledge of James's feelings for Amelia and his own duty to the title meant Arthur had never allowed himself to consider Amelia more than a friend. He had intended to be happily married to Francine, taking some small satisfaction from James being happily married to Amelia.
He had still longed though, longed for Amelia to see and desire him as a man, as he desired her as a woman.
With the change in his circumstances and Whitmore pushing for him to marry Amelia, or pay the money back, Arthur had decided to court Amelia.
He had proposed to her conflicted by hopeful anticipation and dread. The main reason Arthur had never previously considered asking to marry Amelia was for fear of creating discord between himself and James. Now it seemed inevitable. Arthur prayed it might be short-lived.
Trying to explain to James was proving difficult, but Arthur was determined to persist. “I'm not doing this to hurt you, James. We haven't any choice; you know how father left the estate. It's not just the hall that's run down. Roofs still need repairing on many of the estate cottages. There were no investments remaining, just a long list of creditors. Whitmore agreed to advance the dowry, and it's mostly spent. None of us could have foreseen my marriage to Francine not going ahead. Her loss has been difficult for us all, but Whitmore insists on buying his remaining daughter a title, and we couldn't pay the money back even if he would take it.”
Arthur knew that James understood the responsibility they had to the Hentonbury estate, not just because of the buildings and land that had been in their family for years, but more importantly because of the tenants and their families who worked the land to carve out a decent means of living.
“You've been gone four years, James. Did you think nothing would change? When her sister was ill Amelia and I spent a lot of time together. I'm not saying you aren't special to her, but she's grown up, grown to know me, and wants a marriage between us.” Arthur filled a silence pressed upon him by James.
“I'm just to return to the army then? A quick visit to witness the joyous occasion of your marriage, if I'm lucky a quick listen to the sounds of you fucking her, and then back to marching to the beat of the drum.”
Arthur’s body snapped taut, physically taken aback by the crudeness of James’s words, not the language itself, but the application of those words to thoughts of Amelia. It was no bad thing though; if this conversation was going to go where he had decided it must, they were going to need to speak frankly.
More than anything, Arthur dreaded losing his brother's respect and affection as a result of the current situation. He
had already had to swallow his pride in order to accept and precipitously spend Francine's dowry. It had left a bitter aftertaste and the fear that in marrying Amelia he would alienate James.
Despite his desire for Amelia, if that were his only consideration he wouldn't dream of hurting James, the brother he had always taken care of.
Maybe it was a good sign that James had admitted he would listen to Arthur and Amelia on their wedding night. There had to be some way forward that concerned all three of them, or there would forever be divisions among them.
For the past year Arthur had been trying to think of ways that he could fulfill his duty, make Amelia happy, and ensure that he and James weren't estranged. At first the more he thought about it the more impossible it seemed. He was resolved to marry Amelia; he was resolved to try and make her happy—with him—which left his relationship with James at risk. Not only would James never forgive him for the betrayal, but he wouldn't be happy without Amelia, especially with Amelia married to another man, most especially with Amelia married to him. Some things irrevocably shaped one’s life forever.
Then Arthur had wondered if he could marry Amelia in name only and let her and James develop a relationship if they so desired. It wasn't uncommon in arranged marriages for one or both spouses to have affairs. Actually he hadn’t wondered. It was more that the question had occurred to him, and he’d instantly dismissed it.
He wanted a real marriage with Amelia, which meant building trust. He didn't think he could live with betrayal. Although he'd dismissed the idea immediately it did lead him to wondering if there was any chance both he and James could have a relationship with Amelia, at the same time. She would have to be willing, and they would need to be honest with each other and not get jealous. However, he knew jealousy would gnaw at him and probably James as well, and it wouldn't be long before all their relationships were destroyed, including his with Amelia.
