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The Earl's Reluctant Bride: A Sweet Regency Romance (Brides of Somerset Book 1)

Page 6

by Karen Lynne


  “My father— is he well?” she asked, checking to see the door was cracked.

  “Ah, Miss Hamilton. Yes, your father is well. I have just seen him in London where he gave me his blessing on our marriage. You left so quickly, it has taken a while to find you,” he drawled. “When I saw you at Lady Filbert’s party, I took a guess that you were here.” He spread his arms. “And here you are.”

  She moved to the couch and sat down, trying to remain calm. “Mr. Caldwell, as I have told you, I have no wish to marry you.” He sat beside her, making himself comfortable. Before she could resist, he took her hand in his. She tried to remove it, but he held her tight. She glanced away at his uncomfortable smile.

  “Miss Hamilton— Susan— the first time I saw you at Fyne Court, I knew you would be mine. I will teach you to love me.” He leaned in, his eyes drifting to her bosom, his hot, stale breath assaulting her senses. She did not like the sound of her name on his lips. With all her strength, she pushed him away and quickly put the couch between them.

  He laughed. “I see you will play hard to get”

  She shifted away from him as far as she could before protesting, “You are wrong, sir. A gentleman would not push a lady who has refused him. I would ask you to leave.”

  He eyed her speculatively. “I see you want more courting, I can do that, Miss Hamilton.”

  Was this man insane or just arrogant in his self-importance? Her dislike of him was turning to loathing. Just as she felt panic rising, Dawson entered the salon through the door.

  “Will the gentleman be staying for tea, Miss Hamilton?”

  “No, Dawson. Mr. Caldwell was just leaving.” With that announcement, two footmen appeared as if on cue.

  “Show Mr. Caldwell out?” the butler directed to the footmen.

  Susan watched as Mr. Caldwell gave a slight bow. “Miss Hamilton, would you do me the honour of riding out tomorrow?”

  Did this man never give up? “I am sorry. Tomorrow I am busy with another engagement.” She tried to hold her head high as she met his eyes.

  “Well, another time Miss Hamilton, until we meet again.” He gave her a half-smile and swept out the door, followed by the footmen.

  Her eyes met Dawson’s who waited just inside the door. “Is there any thing else I can do, Miss Hamilton?”

  “Thank you, Dawson. Please see that Mr. Caldwell makes it out the front door.” Her heart beat wildly as she tried to maintain her composure.

  “Yes, Miss Hamilton.” He left, gently closing the door behind him.

  Susan relaxed her grip on the couch. Then sliding to the floor, she began to sob.

  Chapter Seven

  James rode toward the road, contemplating the work he had accomplished with William’s suggestions. The day had given him a good idea of the improvements he wanted to start with. It had been a bonus to enjoy the company of the lovely Miss Hamilton. As he rode around the front of Montacute Manor, he saw the familiar figure of Mr. Caldwell riding down the gravel drive toward the road. Two liveried footmen watched as he rode away.

  Instead of turning toward the road, he directed his horse across the well-maintained lawn. Not wanting to encounter Mr. Caldwell, he decided to return to Bowood House through the country side. Why Mr. Caldwell was visiting here had him concerned. Miss Hamilton had been avoiding the man at the stationary shop. A knot settled in his gut.

  A stable hand met him at Bowood House, taking charge of his mount. He went straight to his chamber to change. Sims, his valet, had his clothes laid out ready for him. His valet finished tying his cravat then helped him into his waistcoat. “Thank you, Sims.”

  He left his chamber in search of his mother. He had some questions and he hoped she had some answers. She was in her parlor, dressed in a soft morning gown that highlighted her graceful maturity. She sat at her desk surrounded by correspondence, her favorite pug napping by her feet. Her eyes brightened as he entered the room. The dog lifted his head. Seeing only James, he it continued his nap.

  “James, how was your ride?” his mother inquired.

  “It was very profitable; Sir William gave me some valuable impute on some improvements I’ll be making.” He leaned over, giving her a kiss as he settled into a comfortable stuffed chair by the fire.

  “I have noticed Devon has been friendly with a Mr. Caldwell. Do you know anything about the gentleman?”

  The countess looked up with a wrinkle on her brow. “Mr. Caldwell is a member of the local hunt club, though I’m not sure they do much hunting. I’ve heard they mostly carouse and party. Lady Kensley hosts the hunt club and they run around the country-side, although I think hunting is just an excuse to gather. I have heard much gossip I shall not repeat. Needless to say, that group cannot be a good influence on young Devon.”

  “Devon needs a firm hand to take him to task, I’m afraid.” James scowled.

  “Don’t be too hard on him. Your uncle is a bookish man and a little absent-minded. He never really paid attention to his children. Left it up to his wife, rest her soul. Your uncle being a second son, your father was the head of the family. I’m afraid it falls on your shoulders now.”

  “I am not sure what I can do for Devon. It’s a little too much, a little too late. He is his own man now, although I’d be glad to shake some sense into him if it would do any good. The most I am willing to do at the moment is rein in his purse strings.”

  He cringed at the thought of his cousin as the Earl of Malmesbury. He feared he would behave as his crony Mr. Caldwell, spending the estate into the ground within the first year. The thought wasn’t a pleasant one.

  “I saw Mr. Caldwell leaving the Montacute estate this morning.”

  The countess looked up. “Oh, whom was he visiting?”

  “I am not sure he saw anyone. We had just returned from our ride not long before I saw him leaving. Miss Phelips and Miss Hamilton accompanied William and myself on our ride around the estate, so they couldn’t have been home to receive anyone, and William told me himself he did not like the fellow.”

  His mother seemed flustered at this news.

  “What is it, Mother?”

  “How much do you know of Miss Hamilton?” his mother asked.

  “I have only known her this past week, but today she said something about her father remarrying and that her home was to be sold. That is why she is visiting her friends the Phelips at Montacute.”

  “I feel an obligation to the girl. Her mother was Lady Anne Coventry. She married Miss Hamilton’s father, George Hamilton, and they settled near here in the country after their marriage. Lucy and I have been friends with her mother Anne these past years. We have kept Miss Hamilton in our sights since her mother died. Lucy has told me that Susan’s father has given Mr. Caldwell permission to ask for Susan’s hand in marriage.”

  The earls stomach tightened at the thought of Miss Hamilton married to the likes of Mr. Caldwell. “You can’t be serious? Her father would wed her to such a man as he?” He stood and started pacing about the room. The thoughts of Mr. Caldwell sniffing around Miss Hamilton caused his heat to rise. He stopped at the side table and poured himself a brandy, swallowing it in one gulp.

  The countess watched him. He could see her surprised look as he continued to pace the room, a slow smile crossing her face. “Do not worry yourself dear, we have it all in hand.”

  The earl stopped his pacing. His mother continued to smile at him. “We?”

  “Yes, dear. Lucy and I have decided to find her a husband.”

  A husband! He couldn’t believe his mother was playing the matchmaker for Miss. Hamilton.

  “If we can get her engaged to an acceptable gentleman, by the time her father returns, I am sure he will drop this nonsense of Mr. Caldwell,” she replied with confidence.

  “An acceptable gentleman? Does Miss Hamilton know of this?”

  The countess looked up, a knowing look on her face. “Of course not, dear, but it is better than being a lady’s companion.”

  Now he was r
eally confused. He could not follow his mother’s line of thinking. “A lady’s companion? Weren’t we talking about a husband?”

  The countess waved her hand at him as she returned to her letters. “Don’t worry, James. You are probably right about that Mr. Caldwell. He is a bad influence on Devon. But don’t you worry about Miss Hamilton. Lucy and I have everything planned. There is a garden party at Lady Moore’s and the benefit to repair the vicarage. I am planning a ball at the end of the month. Well, a country dance, really.”

  The earl was astonished. Since when had his mother taken the young maids of the county under her wing? Shaking his head, he turned to leave her to her correspondences.

  “James, remember I need you at these functions. You have Devon to think of.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in her eye as she watched him depart.

  Susan woke to the sun filtering in her room. Mary had pulled back the curtains from the window as the smell of chocolate tickled her nose. Fully awake now, she lifted up and rested against the headboard as she reached for the steaming chocolate, sighing as her hands warmed on the cup, relaxing her aching head. She had not slept well after her encounter with Mr. Caldwell the day before. She had finally nodded off early in the morning.

  “Mary, I want to go riding before breakfast. Will you ask the footman to notify the groom to have the gray mare ready?”

  “Yes Miss Susan.” Mary left, closing the door behind her.

  Susan sipped her chocolate and nibbled on her buttered scone. The ride would clear her head. Her future was looking dim as Mr. Caldwell’s face drifted through her mind.

  In half an hour, Susan strolled to the stables wearing her borrowed riding habit. She gave the mare a nuzzle on the nose before approaching the mounting block. Settling her skirts over the pommel of the saddle, Susan moved toward the countryside, waiting a few minutes for the groom to catch up before starting off across the meadow.

  She urged the horse into a canter while picking up speed. She raced across the field, the smell of cut grass relaxing her senses while the frustration that had built over the past week began to lessen.

  She’d been gone long enough, they would be serving breakfast soon. She needed to return before the family worried. She crested a small hill, surprised to see a road passing a cottage nestled amongst a grove of trees. Curious, she led her horse down the road heading toward the cottage. Smoke curled from the chimney of the moss-covered roof making a picturesque scene.

  A familiar black stallion rounded the corner, led by Lord Malmesbury, a farmer by his side. He caught sight of her before she could retreat. He smiled and hailed her. Too late, she could not leave now— it would be rude— so she waited as he mounted his horse and met her on the road.

  “Miss Hamilton, you’re out early.”

  “I thought I’d get some fresh air before breaking my fast. The cottage intrigued me, so I had to investigate.” Susan watched him. “I had no idea I was on Malmesbury land.”

  The earl nodded as he turned to view the cottage. “One of my tenants. He takes good care of the farm and is a hard worker. I am trying to visit all my tenants since I returned. There is a lot to be done. Most of the farmers are hard-working and get the most out of the land.”

  Susan turned her horse and headed toward home. The earl followed, riding beside her.

  “If you like this cottage, I would like to show you something, one of my favorite places.”

  Susan looked at the groom then back to the earl.

  “It is only a short way,” he encouraged.

  Susan gave in to curiosity. What could it hurt? Wasn’t the groom here to escort her? “Okay, but I must get back soon.”

  Lord Malmesbury looked pleased as he led her up the road. They left the road a few hundred yards down and proceeded through a cluster of trees before emerging into an opening. You couldn’t see it right away because the building was made of stone covered with ivy.

  “It’s an old folly— built generations ago,” Lord Malmesbury explained as he dismounted and helped her to do the same.

  Susan let out a slow breath as she walked toward the structure. “It is beautiful and enchanting. I can see why you like coming here.”

  He reached up, pulling down ivy as they entered. The sunrays filtered through the openings between the pillars. “I played here with friends when I was a child. I was always escaping my tutors,” he explained.

  Susan watched him. It was hard to picture this serious man, who had fought for the Regency, as a child. The folly reminded her of her own home where she enjoyed her youth. She smiled at the thought.

  He watched her. “What are you thinking that makes you smile?”

  She blushed. “That I could not imagine you as a child frolicking around hiding, from your tutors”

  He held his hand up to his chest in mock hurt. “Am I so serious you can’t believe I was young and playful once?”

  She laughed at his antics. “I suppose it is hard to remember we were all children long ago.” Her eyes clouded, remembering yesterday’s unhappy encounter. Certainly, Mr. Caldwell must have always been obnoxious.

  James observed her mood change, wondering what she was thinking. “I saw Mr. Caldwell leaving Montacute yesterday morning just after our ride.” He didn’t know why he brought up the subject, but he watched for a reaction.

  She stiffened. “Do you know Mr. Caldwell?”

  “I know of him. He seems to be a great influence on my cousin, Devon Bathurst. Not a good influence, I am afraid. William has told me a bit about his background. I can’t help wondering why he was at Montacute yesterday.” He watched her to see if she would confirm what his mother had told him.

  She shifted on her feet as she avoided looking at him. She gazed out through the pillars of the folly.

  “Miss. Hamilton, Mr. Caldwell isn’t bothering you, is he?” He waited a beat. “You can trust me, Miss Hamilton. I would never do anything to harm you or your reputation.”

  Susan watched him under her eye-lashes. How had the subject turned to Mr. Caldwell? She gripped a pillar and contemplated her answer. She believed she could trust him. He treated his mother, the countess, with such tender respect.

  She sighed. “Remember, I told you my father is on his marriage trip?”

  He nodded but made no comment.

  “My stepmother does not want me at her home now that she is married to my father. She has convinced my father that Mr. Caldwell and I should marry. Yesterday he asked for my hand in marriage.”

  She watched as his eyes darkened.

  “Have you agreed to marry him?” Lord Malmesbury asked.

  She released her breath. “Heavens, no. I loathe the man, but he seems to not take me seriously. I fear my father will force me to marry when he returns. I am not of age and don’t turn one and twenty until the end of the summer.”

  The earl paced back and forth, his hands behind his back deep in thought. She should not have said anything. He stopped.

  “Why don’t you marry me?”

  Susan was shocked. Did she hear him right? “Marry you?” Was he serious?

  The earl looked at her eagerly. “I think it would benefit us both. We would only be betrothed until you turn one and twenty or figure out what to do. It would stop your father from marrying you off to Mr. Caldwell and my cousin would be forced to rethink his behavior if he thought he wouldn’t inherit.”

  He was talking so fast, she could not follow. “Wait, you want to pretend we’re betrothed to throw off Mr. Caldwell and your cousin? Deceive my father? What about my reputation? I will be ruined if anyone found out.” He was an earl. He could suffer the scandal of a broken engagement, but she would be ruined. Society was not kind to women or forgiving. Her reputation was all she had.

  Lord Malmesbury walked over and took her hand, guiding her to the stone bench and, indicating for her to sit. He sat beside her and released her hand.

  “Miss Hamilton, I would never do anything to ruin your reputation. I only suggest we become engaged to st
op any more attention from Mr. Caldwell. I am sure your father would approve of me over him.” His eyes held hers.

  He continued. “No one has to know it is not a real betrothal. We will not announce it officially until the end of the Season, then when you turn twenty-one you can break the engagement and decide for your-self what it is you want. The only one who will know our secret is my mother. I could not keep it from her. But no one else must know the truth, for your reputation.”

  She thought of Abby and how hard it would be to keep it from her friend. She could not believe she was contemplating this crazy scheme. Mr. Caldwell’s eyes hovered in her memory and she shuddered. She looked at the earl and saw only concern. He was so considerate with his mother. He was a good man, she could feel it. But could she trust him?

  After a long moment and thoughts of the alternative, she nodded. “I hope I am not making a mistake, my lord, but I accept your proposal.”

  He smiled, “Call me James. After all, we are betrothed.” He slapped his leg in delight.

  “James.” She tested the sound on her lips. “Then you may call me Susan.” She watched his crooked smile, hoping her heart would withstand this escapade when it was through.

  They stood and walked to their horses, which were grazing on the grasses outside the folly. James helped her mount and led them back to the road, the groom following discreetly. They rode back in comfortable silence. As Montacute came into view, she turned.

  “My lord, you don’t need to take me any farther.”

  “James, call me James.” He smiled. “Do you want me to be there when you tell your friends about our betrothal?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. How would Abby react? “Yes, please. I don’t think I can do it alone.” She was fearful they wouldn’t believe her.

  Taking her hand, he pressed a soft kiss on the back of her knuckles. “My mother will be calling on you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He held her hand a little longer than was necessary before he let it slide from his grip. She watched as he turned and rode back toward Bowood House.

 

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