Saving Lord Whitton's Daughter: A Regency Romance Novel

by Susan Tietjen

  Lord Matthew called to Lady Camille, who hugged Bethany hard, murmured her farewells, and then hurried to Hannaford’s carriage. Closed inside, she and the twins waved as the vehicle lumbered away.

  Locke turned to examine Bethany. His fingertips lightly grazed the fading bruise on her cheek. “Truthfully. How do you feel?”

  “I’m better now that you’re home. What about you, my love?”

  He smiled and nodded. “I feel the same. You received my message?”

  “Yes. Mrs. Ford has our supper waiting for us in your bedchambers, and the, uh, servants are already gathered in the entryway waiting to hear your report.”

  He escorted her inside the manor and stood near the bottom of the staircase so that all could see and hear him.

  “I have news to offer of a lesser importance before we discuss The Marquess of Scarbreigh. You all know Geoffrey Matheson and his accomplices were rounded up right after Lady Locke and I married. They were this week found guilty and imprisoned for their burglaries. They’ll not likely see the sunlight beyond the bars of their cells until they’re long in the tooth.” He glanced at Bethany and saw relief on her face.

  “Was Viscount Beckwood caught?” Mr. Treadwell asked.

  “Yes, as were Sir Shreeves and Baron Gladwell,” Locke replied.

  Then followed a deeper recounting of the proceedings in London than Locke had given Lady Camille, including the three men who’d tried to shoot Lady Bethany with the arrow also being delivered for trial. One of them admitted he’d stabbed Shadow. The four who’d followed Lady Locke in the park and attacked Lord Locke had been arrested, as well as the two thugs who’d poisoned Carter and ransacked Lady Bethany’s bedchambers at Moorewood, stolen her diary and music box, and then, finding nothing, burned them.

  “The last pair also invaded Whitton and destroyed Lady Locke’s Dresden dolls, never imagining the information was contained on something as elaborate as the bracelet. Beyond that, agents have already detained a good number of Scarbreigh’s co-conspirators. The rest will follow soon.”

  “Then it all turned out proper,” Mrs. Callen said.

  “It did. Although I think we’ll agree that while we’re justified in our relief and can commend each other for jobs well done, the outcome doesn’t exactly lend itself to celebration. Besides, we still have worries about Napoleon to face.”

  “It’s been a good run, Lord Locke,” Dimity commented. “What happens now?”

  Locke sighed, sharing a meaningful look with Mr. Treadwell—the man he’d always presented as his valet-butler.

  “I’ve resigned my position in the Service,” he said. Gasps surrounded them while Bethany’s eyes flew wide. She’d barely set her husband’s work straight in her mind, and now it was all undone. Then he raised a hand to calm them. “Because I’ve taken another,” he added. The murmurs quieted.

  “All of you have performed admirably. Some of you were assigned here solely to protect Lady Bethany and expect to go elsewhere now that the matter’s resolved. Others have worked here for years, a few under my father. Truthfully, all of you and Moorewood itself have served well as a sanctuary for my missions.

  “Because of that, the Service wishes this estate to carry on as a place to exchange covert intelligence or as a refuge for agents on assignment. When needed, I’ll serve as liaison between those agents and London but my only disguise will be secrecy, the same as yours.

  “Of course, I still have other properties to manage, here and on the Continent, and the responsibilities of my title. I must spend a respectable amount of time away. Lady Locke may not always wish to join me, which means someone has to keep affairs running smoothly here and make sure she’s safe.” He offered a wry smile at the whispers and soft laughter that rippled through the gathering. “Any who wish to remain here must inform me by week’s end.”

  “I, for one, sir, would rather serve under no one but you, as I did your father before you,” Mr. Treadwell said in a tremulous voice. Mrs. Callen and Mrs. Ford agreed, as did others.

  Locke smiled gratefully. “I couldn’t do it without you, and I’m eternally grateful.”

  Bethany’s eyes drifted over the crowd, people “disguised” as gardeners and stablemen; housekeepers, maids and footmen; cooks and kitchen maids. Her gaze landed on Melissa’s solemn smile. As Bethany’s personal maid and a witness to Scarbreigh’s death, she’d needed to understand what Moorewood was about. After learning the truth, she could not remain here without swearing her loyalty. She’d done so without hesitation.

  “Now, friends,” Locke said, relief easing the look on his face. “If you’ll all excuse me, it’s been a difficult five days and I wish to retire. Please enjoy the evening off. You deserve it. My lady?”

  Bethany was grateful to head upstairs but hardly able to fathom her husband’s announcement. His resignation would change their lives in a way she could hardly imagine. She sensed he’d done it for her but wondered if he would someday resent her for it?

  * * *

  “Taylor-Ward was set to tackle your rooms this week, was he not?” Locke said as they climbed the stairs. When Lady Bethany nodded, he added, “Probably not convenient under the circumstances, but did he meet your expectations?”

  The twinkle that sprang into her eye chased away the remaining melancholy. “He just finished yesterday and exceeded my hopes. Would you like to see it?”

  “Of course. And afterward I shall shed myself of my travel clothes and the dust that came home with them.” He gave her a tender look. “And then I very much need to spend some time with my wife.”

  Lady Bethany gave him a heart-warming smile. “I’ll see she’s sends for you when you’re presentable.”

  He laughed but afterward drew in a breath of surprise when Lady Bethany opened her bedroom door to him. It was her, he concluded, the softer tones of rose and pale pink against light sea green and bronze. The bed was canopied in silk, the bedcovers a faint floral design, and the curtains that matched were a good deal lighter and airier than the old ones. They hung from ceiling to floor and were tied back from the window with cream colored cords. The floor had been expertly refinished, the beige rugs on top it luxurious.

  “It’s exquisite,” he said. “I’ve no doubt my mother is standing on the other side of heaven’s veil applauding you.” His eyes radiated his love as he added, “She would have adored you. Come, my sweet. Keep me company.”

  Lady Bethany’s cheeks reddened when Locke pulled his key from his trouser pocket and unlocked the door that joined their rooms. He kept hold of her hand when they drifted into the formerly forbidden realm of his bedchamber, which bore the inviting aroma of the food set on the table by the window. It was a handsome, tasteful room, and he could see Bethany approved. But how soon would she feel welcome here? He grasped her shoulders in his hands and met her gaze squarely.

  “Tell me true, Sweetheart. Has it been too hard? I hated not being here for you.”

  “It’s been painful. Especially.” She bit her lip. “Most especially with trying to forgive myself,” she murmured.

  Locke frowned at her. This he hadn’t expected. “Forgive yourself? Whatever for?”

  * * *

  Bethany hesitated, and then confessed her part in Scarbreigh’s death. “I despised him,” she admitted between gritted teeth. “Because he lied and simpered and connived his way into our confidence. He killed my father and brothers. He ordered his minions to do what they did to me. He hurt you. He destroyed Lady Camille. And I knew that if I didn’t fight back, he’d take me with him, even to death.”

  Locke sighed. “I was terrified for you. I couldn’t reach him, but if I had, I’d have thrown him off you. There’s no crime in self-defense, my dear Beth.” He searched her face. “What you did made me glad. If I’m wrong to feel that way, then so be it. I hated everything he did to you and to England. At least this way, he brought about his own death.”

  “It’s one more hideous memory to bear.”

  “I know. But we’
ll do it together. You did what you had to do, my love, and you were not wrong.”

  Locke hugged her gently and then led her to his dressing room where he settled on a stool and removed his boots. Afterward he doffed his shirt and rose to wash up in his laving bowl.

  So caught in admiring Locke’s broad shoulders and powerful form, she didn’t at first realize her surroundings. When she did, her eyes rounded in surprise. Along one wall hung the suits, fine shirts, neck ties, boots, and riding clothes that belonged to the man Bethany knew as Marcus Ashburn, the Earl of Locke. On the other side, were clean and neatly mended but obviously worn peasant clothes, and over there were groups of shoes, hats, wigs, and trappings that had no place in an earl’s wardrobe. It was an actor’s haven, a place to don a persona and go on masquerade. No wonder Locke hadn’t wanted her here. She’d have been shocked to see it and would have insisted on explanations.

  Locke smiled at her and shrugged. “It maintained my anonymity. I’ll have it all placed in storage tomorrow. The agents we’ll entertain may have use for such things, but I will not.”

  “Are you sure you won’t miss it? You’ve worked so hard for it.” She panicked at the thought he might blame her for having to leave it behind.

  “Honestly? I’m tired of it. Of living in the streets with murderers and thieves, of lying and, I confess, having to steal. Weary of pretending to be someone else, of passing notes and searching for clues; getting shot at and stabbed, and doing my best to avoid getting either poisoned or hanged. It was a charade, one which I am very good at and proud of for the right reasons, but I’m finished with it and ready for something else.”

  Bethany smiled tremulously. “Like what?”

  “Like you,” he said, his voice husky. He pulled her against him and pressed a kiss to her lips that spoke of love and desire and deeper promises.

  Bethany admired his handsome eyes, his strong jaw, his smile. Her fingers brushed a pale scar on his chest, one of several. Scars that attested to what he’d just admitted, old wounds very much like her own. She paused to savor its significance in her heart. His damp skin felt cool against hers, the male scent of him delicious.

  “My life will change in every way imaginable now, you realize,” he murmured, kissing her ear.

  “Both our lives,” she agreed, humming in pleasure.

  “As I said to the others, it is my duty to visit Westminster regularly. No longer in secret or in disguise, of course, but without fail. Please journey with me, darling. I need the world to know we’re building a life together. That I want to face all of life’s trials with you beside me. To love you, to have children with you, and to grow old with you.”

  Such tantalizing words burrowed deep into the core of Bethany’s being, sparking the overpowering heat of desire. She threaded her fingers into his thick, dark hair and pulled his head down until their lips almost touched.

  “I would follow you to the ends of the earth, my darling,” she murmured. “Such is my heart’s desire. For love, for our posterity, and for a lifetime, I belong to you.”

  Locke’s dark blue eyes shone with pleasure, his heart-melting dimples framing his adorable smile. “Beyond a lifetime, Lady Locke. From this moment and into forever, I am your devoted servant.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Susan was born and raised a California girl but is grateful to have lived on the Oregon coast and in the Rocky Mountains of northern Utah. She’s now enjoying living with her husband in the incomparable beauty of the Redwood forest, nestled against the rugged coast of Northern California.

  Susan raised a tribe of children, making ends meet as a registered nurse and lactation consultant, and now her tribe members have tribes of their own and she just doesn’t get to see enough of them. She loves to travel and is thrilled with a good movie or a great book, but writing is her passion. She writes almost anything, especially epic fantasy and romance. Saving Lord Whitton’s Daughter is her first Regency Romance.

  Susan would love to hear your comments. Please review her book at your favorite retailer and at Goodreads, and take a peek at her website, susantietjen.blogspot.com, and/ or drop her a note at: stietjen.author@gmail.com.

  WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING

  ABOUT SAVING LORD WHITTON’S DAUGHTER

  As a rule I avoid romance novels because of their formulaic, predictable plots. This book is anything but. With a delicious, tingly, unpredictable love affair and suspenseful mystery, Saving Lord Whitton's Daughter surpasses the genre as much more than a mere romance novel.

  —Tamara Hart Heiner, author— the Perilous series and others

  Susan weaves a beautiful story with characters so real, so full of life and love, you feel as if you are right there in the Regency era. The breathtaking, raw attraction between Bethany and Lord Locke, mixed with the threat of danger and the dark mystery of the past, creates a page-turner sure to keep you up into the late hours of the night. I highly recommend this book!

  —Jessica Cole—Reader

  Loved it. Beautifully written and engaging from the very start. Loved the spunk of Lady Bethany. This isn't your typical love story, so I loved it even more. I didn't want to put this amazing adventure down.

  —Cindy M. Hogan—Best Selling Author—The Watched Trilogy, the Christy Spy Novels, the Code of Silence Series, and others.

  If you like romance novels, you will love Saving Lord Whitton's Daughter. I loved the author's use of words. They are so descriptive and they fit the era written about in the book. I had a hard time putting it down to fix dinner or even to go to bed.

  —Lynne Dawson—Reader

  "The author has woven this thrilling historical novel with all my favorite elements: intrigue, mystery, danger, and of course, heart-stopping romance.”

  —Rebecca Rode—Author of the Numbers Game Saga and others.

  “Wow. Loved it. Just the kind of Regency Romance I like.”

  —Pam Mason—Reader.

  WHAT ELSE HAS SUSAN WRITTEN?

  You don’t want to miss it! Available in paperback and eBook.

  Dragon Unchained: The first book in an epic fantasy trilogy.

  Sixteen-year-old Lady Theona McArthur thinks opening The Keeper, an ancient, forbidden relic, will help her find the love of her life. At least that’s what her dreams tell her. Instead she becomes possessed by evil spirits and is imprisoned and condemned to death for violating the laws of Kildaria.

  Then rumors of war bring a foreign prince to Kildaria. Prince Gideon Seville is the young man of her dreams.

  The evil spirits offer Theona one reprieve. Learn to use magic she never knew she had, to return them and their two ferocious dragons to mortality, and they’ll set her free.

  She’s frightened that if the sorcerers don’t destroy her, then perhaps the lure of magic will. Her chance friendship with Prince Gideon blossoms into the love of a lifetime, but even together, will they have what it takes to beat the odds against evil sorcerers, magical dragons, war, and death?