Second Chance Love: A Regency Romance Set

by Wendy Lacapra

  She’s never stopped loving him…

  Lady Albina Baine, Viscountess Beauley, has lived the past five years in London penning a successful advice column for newly married ladies. With three children grown and moving on with their lives, she starts to reflect on her own marriage. She’s never stopped loving her husband, even when he abruptly walked out of her life. But can a union that has withstood so much already, survive the test of time?

  He’s never stopped loving her…

  Michael Baine, Viscount Beauley, retired to his country estate, thinking that it was best for his wife. From the moment he’d seen Albina across a crowded ballroom, he knew she was the one for him. But as the years passed, something had waned in their relationship, so he’d left, believing that he was doing the right thing. He’d never been able to properly relay how he’d felt, but the love he still harbored was as strong as ever.

  But is love enough?

  Now, when faced with the opportunity to give their marriage a second chance, will their feelings for one another be enough to salvage a crumbling union, or will it be their ultimate undoing?

  Also by Tabetha Waite

  Ways of Love Historical Romance Series

  How it All Began for the Baron (Christmas prequel novella)

  Why the Earl is After the Girl

  Where the Viscount Met His Match

  When a Duke Pursues a Lady

  Who the Marquess Dares to Desire

  Anthologies

  Yuletide Happily Ever Afters (Christmas Regency)

  Moonlight, Monsters & Magic (erotic paranormal)

  Heyer Society (non-fiction essays)

  Nine Ladies Dancing 2018 (*Limited Release* Christmas set)

  Second Chance Love (Regency Romance)

  Novellas

  Twelve Gifts by Christmas (Yuletide Happily Ever Afters)

  Lord Castleford’s Fortunate Folly (Fortunes of Fate)

  A Lady’s Guide to Marriage

  Copyright © 2019 Tabetha Waite

  All rights reserved.

  This story is dedicated to anyone who might have been, or is still struggling in their relationship. Never doubt in the power of true love.

  CHAPTER ONE

  A lady must never use foul language…

  Lady A’s Advice Column

  London, England

  May 1818

  Lady Albina Baine muttered an obscenity under her breath as she crumpled the paper and threw it in on the floor with the others. Absolute bloody rubbish. She sighed.

  Unfortunately, for one of London’s most popular writers for newly married ladies, this was undoubtedly a problem. It was getting rather difficult to publish advice for innocent minds when she started to believe that anything she wrote was nothing more than pure…well, rubbish.

  “Struggling with a bit of author’s impediment?”

  Albina threw down her quill, ignoring it when the ink splattered on the blank pristine sheet of vellum before her. “I would say it’s more of a complete obstruction at this point.” She returned irritably, as she turned to face her dearest friend and confidante, Mrs. Lydia Langley. The widow was such a continual presence at Baine House that the butler didn’t even announce her anymore, just let her have free reign of the household. “I daresay I’m going to start writing Gothic fiction for Minerva Press like you.”

  Lydia sat down in one of the wing chairs by the fireplace and shook her dark head, immersed with threads of silver. Albina walked over and settled into the other.

  “As much as I love writing stories about dark halls and suspicious characters,” her friend noted. “It’s not the genre for you, and you know it as well as I do.”

  Albina had to concede that Lydia was right, but then she didn’t feel like anything made sense to her anymore. She had started this advice column a little more than five years ago after giving some encouragement to her daughter, who had recently become engaged. Mary had been harboring a few reservations about marrying a man that she didn’t initially love, but who was a good, kind match in every other way.

  After Albina had convinced her eldest child that what she was feeling was perfectly natural, a simple case of the jitters, she decided that she had an innate talent for soothing the fears of new brides, so she decided to put pen to paper and try to make a difference in the lives of others who might be reluctant to join the bonds of matrimony.

  Each month since she’d offered a new secret to a long and happy marriage — but there was a secret that Albina didn’t reveal.

  None of it was true. A wife shouldn’t be biddable and meek, succumbing to her husband’s every demand. It was such an antiquated way of thinking that Albina was ashamed for believing the lie for as long as she had. She didn’t like to think of herself as a fraud, but when you merited advice to others when your own relationship had been on rough ground for years, what else was she to think?

  “Maybe it’s time you took a break,” Lydia suggested.

  Albina threw up her hands. “And do what? Writing is the only thing that’s kept me sane in this empty house for…” Five years. She didn’t say it out loud because she didn’t like admitting that she and her husband had been apart for that long. It made her feel like a failure as a wife. Then again, he hadn’t bothered to remain and try to make things work either. She’d told herself, at the onset of their separation, that after a lengthy marriage it was only natural for the sparkling adoration of any new relationship to wane, and that was only if one was lucky enough to marry for love.

  But had she truly been in love with him? Or was it merely attraction that had faded with time?

  At first, the allure of the dashing, Michael Baine, Viscount Beauley, had been rather exciting, as he had been one of the finest bachelors on the marriage mart during her debut season. Albina still remembered the first time she’d been introduced to him at a society ball, and her heart had instantly skipped a beat. He had a smile that could charm the very birds from their trees, and the most hypnotic, warm brown eyes that she’d ever seen. He was tall, with dark hair, and filled out his well-tailored clothes rather nicely. For an impressionable girl of eighteen, she had not been immune to his appeal, believing that he was the most handsome man to ever grace the earth at five and twenty.

  She remembered that breathless anticipation when he’d first called upon her at her parents’ home. She couldn’t believe that such a man could be interested in a naïve girl like her. But all through their courtship, he showered constant attention on her, complimenting everything from her attire, to her copper red hair and hazel eyes. But looking back, Albina knew what really made her fall in love with Chael was his sense of humor. There was a sudden pang in her heart when she remembered the night she’d introduced her personal nickname for him. They had been at the theatre and she’d teasingly emphasized the second half of his name. It rather sounded more like “chale,” but somehow it had stuck.

  When he’d proposed shortly thereafter, it was the most joyous day of her life.

  “Have you thought about going home?” Lydia asked softly.

  Albina frowned. “What are you talking about? I’m home right now—” She abruptly broke off, for she realized her friend wasn’t speaking of Baine House, but rather Beauley Hall. In the five years, she had known Lydia, it was the first time she’d ever remarked upon the estrangement between herself and Chael. They had shared every other confidence from raising children, to writing, and everything in between, but that subject had always been rather off limits, almost taboo.

  But now, she realized that it was time she discussed the matter with someone. It wasn’t as though she could continue on as she had for the past five years, turning a blind eye to the only subject that she’d had difficulty facing herself.

  Albina shrugged lightly. “I’ve never considered it before. My writing always kept me in London.”

  “Perhaps a reprieve is what you need right now,” Lydia suggested. “A change of scenery to help get you past this writing hurdle.” She paused. “Maybe thi
s is a sign.”

  Albina turned to stare into the fire as she considered her friend’s words. Her hands twisted in her lap, but she forced them to still. It was odd that just the idea of facing Chael again could have her so anxious.

  But it hadn’t always been that way.

  From the start of their marriage, there was no denying that there was plenty of passion. There had been times that they failed to even leave the bedchamber because of their need for each other. But after the arrival of their two daughters, as well as differing priorities that slowly took them in opposite directions, things began to change, and they’d begun to grow apart.

  After their third child was born, their son and eventual heir, Albina could still see the adoration in her husband’s eyes, but she could tell it was beginning to dim. He started to spend more time at his club, and by the time Conner grew old enough to attend university, Chael abruptly announced one evening at the dining table that he was retiring to their country estate. He said that he no longer cared for life in London, and now that Mary and Sarah were married, and their son was grown, he was ready to live out the rest of his days enjoying the popular outdoor pursuits that he used to enjoy.

  Albina had been so stunned that she hadn’t done anything but murmur a silent assent, when inside she was screaming and begging him to stay. But it was what he’d said that kept her entreaty locked tightly away. He’d said he didn’t care for life in London anymore, but what she heard was that he no longer cared for her.

  The rest of that evening, as they’d retired to the parlor to play their usual game of chess, she’d forced herself to remain detached, conducting herself with the decorum expected of a titled, married lady. She wished him well that night and eventually excused herself and went to her room where the bitter tears she’d cried drenched her pillow.

  The next morning, he was gone.

  Fortunately, any self-pity hadn’t lasted long. She’d picked her broken heart off the floor, and returned to her chamber and the only thing that made sense to her. It was during those disheartening days that Lady A’s Advice Column was born.

  Now, as her twenty-fifth wedding anniversary approached, she began to wonder if it was even possible to relive the magic of those early days, to feel as if she could smile without reservation, as if her heart still wasn’t shattered from Chael’s desertion.

  For the past five years, she’d inwardly mourned his loss as if he’d gone to his grave, pride and fear of her reception at Beauley Hall keeping her firmly planted in the city. But she realized that, not only did she miss him, but their life together as well. Granted, they offered a brief correspondence from time to time, but a few scrawled words on a sheet of vellum didn’t account for strong arms holding her close, or the intimacy to be found in a marriage bed.

  For the first time since she’d met Lydia, Albina allowed those old insecurities to take form in words. “What if he dismisses me?” She swallowed heavily. “Or has someone else?” While she had remained faithful to Chael during their time apart, she had never been daring enough to ask the same of him, even though she had never heard any gossip to confirm that he had taken a mistress. But after so long…

  Lydia reached out and squeezed her hand. “You can’t change the past, Albina. All you can do is look to the future. You just have to ask yourself if your relationship is worth saving.” She stood. “I’ll leave you to think it over.”

  Albina remained where she was for an interminable length of time, memories clouding and twisting in her mind to rival the swirls of the fire in the grate. Finally, as dusk began to fall, she rose to her feet and returned to her desk.

  She picked up a fresh sheet of paper and dipped her pen in the inkwell. First, she wrote a hasty letter to her publisher, letting him know that any future columns would be put on hold because she was going to the country and she wasn’t sure when she might be back. He might not care for her abrupt missive, but for the past five years, she had written for his paper like clockwork and earned him a lot of readers.

  It was time she did something for herself.

  Next, she wrote to her husband to let him know she was coming home.

  ***

  Michael sat at the desk in his study and held his wife’s letter in his hand. He’d read it through countless times, that familiar feminine script usually so formal and disjointed.

  But not this time.

  At long last, his greatest hopes were coming true. She was coming back to Beauley Hall. Just the thought of seeing her again was enough to cause his hand to shake. He gently laid the paper on the desk in his study, right over the estate book he’d been perusing. Any further work would have to wait, for the numbers were a jumbled mess after reading that letter.

  It shouldn’t have been so imperative, and yet it was.

  In truth, it made all the difference.

  He steepled his hands before him. For years, he’d been wondering if he’d done the right thing that day by leaving Albina. But he felt it was the only option left to gain a connection between them.

  If such a thing could even be accomplished.

  He remembered with vivid clarity the first time he’d set eyes upon the copper-haired debutante in her virginal white dress. She had literally stopped him in his tracks, although he wasn’t sure she’d even noticed; she was so caught up in her first ball of the London season, talking and chatting with a group of other young hopefuls.

  Thankfully, he’d known the hostess that night, and after approaching her for an introduction to the lady in question, he found that his footsteps nearly stumbled as he’d been introduced to Miss Albina Waterton. She was even more lovely up close, and he knew the moment he looked into those charming, hazel eyes, that she was the one for him.

  But over time, and the stress of raising a family, he could tell that it had all started to wear her down. She’d always wanted to write but claimed that she never had the time, so he’d started going to his club more often in order that he might not be another burden. But as things had continued to deteriorate, he’d known he would have to do something drastic in order to regain the affection that had waned between them.

  So, in the end, he’d set her free.

  Granted, in hindsight, he could have gone about things a bit differently, but what was done was done. At the time, he thought he’d been doing her a service, and had convinced himself of the same when she’d written to him and told him of her blooming advice column.

  The smile that had graced his face that day had been the first genuine one in months, because he had known she was happy. Where he had failed, her writing had succeeded.

  But as the months turned into years and he’d found himself staring at the same, four walls, his chest ached, because he wished, above all else, that Albina was there to share his days with him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t so much of an insensitive jackass that he might rip away her only joy. So in spite of his stubborn pride, he’d stayed away.

  But now, at long last, she was coming home.

  To him.

  And another smile graced his lips.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A lady must always be punctual…

  Lady A’s advice column

  Norfolk, England

  June 3, 1818

  Albina held her reticule tightly in her grasp. She pursed her lips together in irritation, for her teeth were about to be jarred out of her head from the uneven roads they traversed across the English countryside.

  From the beginning, this day was not going as planned, and she began to wonder if all of this nonsense was a mistake. Before they’d ever left Baine house that morning, John Coachman had told her that there would be a delay because one of the horses had thrown a shoe. Once that was fixed, they were delayed by a sudden bout of torrential rainfall that just happened to start the moment they left London. Although the day had eventually cleared, the storm resulted in the miserable conditions she now had to endure.

  Once again, she chastised herself by allowing Lydia to talk her into this asinine jo
urney. This entire trip had been beyond her good reasoning, and obviously something was trying to tell her to remain in London. And yet, here she sat in her carriage as it carried her ever closer to the shores of Yarmouth.

  Beauley Hall was situated about a mile or so from the village, on the bluffs overlooking the North Sea. And while Albina might have been reticent about seeing Chael again, she was curious about the changes that had been wrought in the picturesque seaside hamlet since her absence. She had heard that the Naval Pillar, a monument that was being erected to honor Admiral Nelson for his services during the Napoleonic Wars was nearly completed. Of course, Yarmouth was rich in history already, from the Church of St. Nicholas, built by the first bishop of Norwich, as well as the Royal Naval Hospital.

  She had nearly forgotten how much she’d enjoyed her time there. During the first few years of their marriage, when the children had been in the nursery, Albina and Chael had been content in this part of the country, with the salty tang of the sea teasing their nostrils, and the brisk wind caressing their face. For that brief time, that passed all too quickly, she knew those had been some of the happiest days of her life. Not until they’d moved back to the smoke and congestion of the city to prepare Mary and Sarah for their debuts, did it all truly start to fall apart.

  In London, they were expected to behave and act a certain way so as not to get the gossipmongers prattling behind their fans. There, they had always been the esteemed, Viscount and Viscountess Baine.

  In Yarmouth, while they still had a reputation to uphold, things had been so much… simpler. They’d had a good camaraderie with the villagers, their tenants, and their loyal servants. Every year, to celebrate the summer solstice, they would hold an annual party on St. John’s Eve at Beauley Hall, where everyone, no matter their station, was invited to attend. Compared to the London events that were staid and perfectly polite, Beauley Hall’s entertainments were vastly different. From a bonfire, to games that included guests of all ages, to enough food to feed the English army, it was something that was enjoyed by all every year.