by Jane Charles
This was not how her marriage was to have been. Jillian was to have worn an elegant gown of lace in St. Paul’s with all of Society looking on. Not in a blacksmith’s shop, holding a bouquet of wild flowers while wearing a travel-stained gown. However, she wouldn’t change anything about her wedding for all of the world.
This was her wedding, and it was perfect. Simple and honest and she’d never doubt Samuel’s love again. Not only had he stood up to her father, but he’d whisked her away in almost a fairytale fashion. Their trip north was filled with love and laughter in the comfortable traveling coach owned by his great-uncle.
Samuel slipped a thin gold band onto her finger. “I promise to purchase a more appropriate ring.”
“Don’t.” She stared at the gold. “This is perfect and I want no other.”
And then, before the smithy could finish announcing they were married, Samuel swept her up in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers, practically devouring her, heating her blood, as he’d done so often during their trip north. Except this time, he wouldn’t stop with just kissing her, and she couldn’t wait to find out what pleasures awaited them both.
“The inn is across the road,” the smithy said after clearing his throat.
Samuel pulled back and set her back on the ground. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” the smithy grinned. “Now run along.”
Samuel tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the inn. “We will remain here tonight or maybe a week.” He winked at her. “And, then we’ll return to London.”
Jillian stopped. “I thought we were traveling on to Barbados.” Of course, it’s what she had assumed because of what he’d said at the theatre, but they really hadn’t discussed further plans.
“I wish to show off my wife.” He grinned. “I think it’s time you actually enjoyed a Season, and I also plan to see that my sisters do as well.”
He led her up the stairs to the room they’d now share and stopped before the door.
“But first, it’s time to truly make you my wife.”
About Jane Charles
Jane Charles is a USA Today Bestselling author who has lived in the Midwest her entire life. As a child she would more likely be found outside with a baseball than a book in her hand. In fact, Jane hated reading until she was sixteen. Out of boredom on a long road trip she borrowed her older sister’s historical romance and fell in love with reading. She long ago lost count of how many novels she has read over the years and her love for them never died. Along with romance she has a passion for history and the two soon combined when she penned her first historical romance. What turned into a hobby became a passion. In addition to historical romances, she has been pulled to write contemporary and began penning her new series, Baxter Academy of Arts. She intends to continue writing both historical and contemporary.
Connect with Jane
@JaneACharles
JaneACharles
www.janecharlesauthor.com
[email protected]
Also by Jane Charles
The Tenacious Trents
Compromised For Christmas
Landing a Laird
A Misguided Lord
A Perfect Gentlemen
Devil in Her Dreams
A Lass For Christmas
A Reluctant Rake
Lady Revealed
Lady Disguised
Lady Concealed
A Tenacious Trent’s Wedding
Lady Admired
Wiggon’s School For Elegant Young Ladies
To Walk in the Sun
Ghosts From the Past
A Gentleman’s Guide to Once Upon a Time
His Impetuous Debutante
His Contrary Bride
His Not So Sensible Miss
His Christmas Match
Muses
Her Muse, Lord Patrick
Her Muse, Her Magic
One More Haunted Evening
One Less Lonely Earl
Samantha Grace
Chapter 1
Colin MacBride, the Earl of Blackwood, folded his arms atop the massive oak desk in his study at Blackwood Castle and wondered if his sister-in-law was intentionally trying his patience, or if it was purely by accident.
The petite blond sat in the chair across from him, her prominent chin lifted stubbornly. “I will not be put off. I demand resolution.”
He glanced at his identical twin brother standing at the sideboard pouring a scotch and silently appealed for help. James met his gaze and shrugged. Colin’s brother seemed as lost as he was when it came to dealing with their oldest brother’s widow.
Colin aimed an apologetic smile in her direction, hoping a show of sympathy would stave off an argument—and knowing it was a hopeless cause. “I am sorry, Audrey, but I won’t increase your pin money. As we have discussed on several occasions, it is necessary to live frugally for the time being.”
His sister-in-law sniffed, raising her aquiline nose in the air. “I am Lady Blackwood, and I haven’t given you leave to address me by my first name.”
“My brothers call you Audrey,” he pointed out, slightly nonplussed to be caught in this contentious relationship with the lady of the house.
Colin never expected to inherit the title from Malcolm, nor had he anticipated having any dealings with his sister-in-law beyond the requisite visits to Blackwood Castle around the holidays. His oldest brother had begun filling his nursery when Colin, James, and Gavin were still at Oxford. As fate would have it, Malcolm had fathered only girls—five clever little minxes that had wormed their ways into Colin’s heart with their first smiles. He didn’t mind admitting, he was smitten with his nieces. Their mother was another story.
“James and Gavin may address me however they like,” Audrey said. “They have not limited my accounts at the milliner and dress shop, and neither did Malcolm.”
Perhaps if Colin’s older brother hadn’t indulged Audrey’s every whim, their financial situation might be less grim. Colin practiced restraint, forcing a tight smile rather than speaking ill of his brother. He suspected Audrey missed his brother a great deal, and he attributed her frequent tantrums to grief. James and Gavin said he was being too generous. From all reports, she had been ill tempered long before their eldest brother had been thrown from his horse last spring.
Colin cleared his throat, not wishing to recall the tragedy that had taken his brother’s life. “I take no pleasure in placing limits on you, Lady Blackwood. Yet, it appears I must, since you have placed none on yourself—despite my requests. Your pin money will not be increased again, and the shopkeepers in Danby will no longer extend you credit.”
“You deplorable cur!” She burst from the chair and planted her palms against the desk as if she might vault over it to attack him. A furious blush flooded her ivory face. “Am I to be treated no better than a prisoner? What about necessities?”
Colin’s brother James approached with two tumblers of scotch and slid one across the desk’s lacquered surface. Colin left the drink untouched as he met his sister-in-law’s challenging stare. James perched on the edge of the desk and watched their heated exchanged like a spectator at a boxing match.
“You may present me with a list of necessities,” Colin said reasonably, “and if your request is indeed a need rather than a luxury, I will insure you have it.”
Colin’s twin brushed a lock of dark hair from his own forehead, and his steel-blue gaze flickered toward Audrey. Colin and James were mirror images of each other, and most people couldn’t tell them apart.
Audrey slapped the desktop before straightening her spine and plopping her hands on her hips. “What about a governess for Malcolm’s daughters? Your nieces’ education has been neglected long enough. But perhaps you consider it a luxury.”
“Gads. She always resorts to guilt, doesn’t she?” James shook his head before sipping his drink.
Surely, she didn’t hold Colin responsible for the two governesses they had lost over the
summer. With Audrey’s tendency to lord her position over the young women and pepper them with harsh criticisms, was it any wonder they had trouble keeping one longer than a month?
“You know I placed an advertisement as soon as the last governess gave notice.” Colin thought he responded to her accusation of neglect with an impressive amount of calmness, considering his knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the desk. “Now, if you will excuse us, Lady Blackwood, we were in the middle of discussing estate business before you barged into the study and demanded an audience.”
She hadn’t even removed her hat and gloves upon returning from the village before marching into the study to berate him for the restraints he’d placed upon her spending. His sister-in-law glowered a moment longer, then snatched the glass of scotch and defiantly took a gulp. Tears sprang to her eyes as she fought to keep from coughing.
Colin remained silent, refusing to engage in her childish game. When she realized she wouldn’t get a rise out of him, she stormed from the room with the tumbler clutched in her hand. The slam of the door echoed off the stone walls.
“Are you going to allow her to steal your scotch?” James asked.
“It is hard to determine who needs it more” —Colin sank against the back of the leather chair— “her or me.”
“I concede your point.” Colin’s twin pushed from the desk to claim the chair their sister-in-law had vacated. His gaze bore into Colin. When they were younger, it seemed speaking hadn’t been required to know what the other was thinking. A slight prickle at Colin’s nape suggested now was one of those times.
“You were in here a long time with Mr. Patel,” James said. “I sense a storm approaching.”
The new land steward’s report had been dire, and Colin wished he had that drink now. He trusted James to keep his head about him once he learned the nature of their situation. Nevertheless, Colin wasn’t eager to admit the truth—even to himself.
“The condition of the flock is worse than I was led to believe when I arrived at Blackwood Castle,” he said. “We had an alarming decline in the flock numbers this spring. Too many stillbirths, and far too many ewes were lost in the process.”
James grunted under his breath and swirled the scotch in the cut crystal glass. Colin suspected they were thinking the same thing. Malcolm had mismanaged the flock, and the problem had been brewing for at least a year. Possibly longer.
As usual, Malcolm hadn’t confided in Colin or his other brothers because he had never seen them as his equals. He had been thirteen years old when Colin and James were born and fifteen when Gavin came along. Malcolm had treated his three younger brothers like boys, even though Colin and James were five and twenty now.
“Mr. Patel is guarded with his predictions about the estate’s sustainability,” Colin said. “There are a few healthy rams for breeding as well as mature ewes, but the fields are poor. We are destined to lose more of the flock over winter unless we can procure decent pasture.”
His brother’s strong brows dropped low over his eyes. “Is that all? Well, we have nothing to fret about then, do we?”
Colin did not miss the sarcasm lacing his brother’s words. He glanced at his desk. Two days ago, he’d shoved a summons from their meddlesome neighbor in the top drawer. He had planned to dispose of it the next time a fire was built in the grate, but he’d forgotten about it. Now it called to him. “I could appeal to Danby for help.”
James drew back in horror. “You cannot be serious. Have you forgotten how that old curmudgeon tried to manipulate Malcolm into marrying one of his granddaughters?”
“Of course I haven’t, but this is a chance to discuss the pastureland to the east. I might be able to convince the duke that we can be of assistance to each other.
“Do you truly expect Danby to listen to a word you have to say? He wants you for one reason only—to saddle you with a wife.” James scoffed. “If anything, he will dangle the land in front of you to insure your cooperation.”
“I won’t allow the duke to catch me in the parson’s noose. We will discus the land. Nothing more. Despite rumors to the contrary, I believe him to be a reasonable man.”
“Reasonable?” James barked with laughter. “You are dicked in the nob if you believe you will fare any better with our neighbor than Father or Malcolm did. Danby knows his great-grandfather stole that land from our family, but he will never surrender it—not without stipulations.”
James had good cause to believe as he did. Their grandfather had been promised a return of the land in question upon marriage to Danby’s sister, but Lady Margaret had eloped with another man two weeks before the wedding. Grandfather’s pride had suffered, and he’d never forgiven her for putting him through a yearlong courtship only to leave him empty-handed in the end. The broken betrothal had intensified the feud between the two families.
Some years ago, the current Duke of Danby tried to entice Malcolm to marry one of his granddaughters in exchange for the same land, but Colin’s eldest brother had already set his heart on Audrey. As Colin recalled, the gossip rags that Season had been filled with scandalous accounts of several loud altercations between Malcolm and Danby whenever they’d accidentally crossed paths.
Colin was not hot-tempered like his brother, however, and trusted any conversation he had with the duke would not be exciting enough for print.
“I will not ask Danby to surrender the land.” Colin snagged his coat from the back of the chair and shrugged into it. “As you have pointed out, it did not work for Father or Malcolm.” He headed toward a set of polished oak doors more suited for a race of giants than any member of the MacBride clan, and he and his brothers would never be described as short.
“Wait! Are you calling on the duke now?”
“It does seem best to put the matter behind me.”
His brother surged to his feet to follow Colin from the study, their equally long strides reaching the curved staircase in no time. Blackwood Castle was solid like a cave, but bright with massive windows every two feet to bathe the marble in a golden glow. Colin hadn’t resided there since he and James were sent to boarding school at age nine, but the castle was still home. He couldn’t allow Blackwood to fall into ruin.
“What do you propose to do?” James’s voice echoed off the stone ceiling.
“I am going to save our home,” Colin said.
“But how?” His brother grabbed his arm as they reached the ground floor, detaining him. “Tell me what you will say to Danby.”
Colin sighed impatiently. “I will ask the duke to allow our sheep to graze on the land, and I will offer him a percentage of the profits when the sheep are sheared in the spring. He makes no use of the pasture, but I am to understand it is well maintained. Sheep to keep the terrain tended and payment for his good deed; what more could he want?”
“You are a fool to even ask. Danby probably knew about the condition of our flock and fields before you did. He anticipated you would come to him asking for help.”
Colin pointedly scowled at his brother’s fingers locked around his forearm, and James released him.
“The duke asked to see me,” Colin said, “not the other way around. You give him too much credit.”
“You don’t give him enough,” his brother countered. “Are you aware his grandson is staying at Danby Castle?”
“I hardly see the need to be worried. Our nieces are too young for the marriage mart.”
Malcolm’s oldest daughter was only twelve-years-old. Colin expected to support his sister-in-law and nieces for many more years, and he wished to do right by the girls.
James crossed his arms. “Julian Beckford is already married. He arrived with his pregnant wife and her family.”
“And this should concern me because...”
“Mrs. Beckford has a sister of marriageable age. I expect the duke wants to help his grandson foist her onto another man.”
“Danby will be disappointed then.” Colin stalked across the stone foyer en route to the
door leading outside. He wasn’t in any position to take on another dependent, which the duke likely knew already. The question remained if the man cared that he would be sentencing Mrs. Beckford’s sister to an uncertain future if he manipulated a match with Colin.
Chapter 2
Meredith Halliday glanced sideways at the duke as they strolled through Danby Castle gardens, praying her tongue would work properly when she was expected to speak. Her brother-in-law’s grandfather hadn’t said a word after ordering her to join him for his afternoon constitutional. She was quite on pins and needles dreading the lecture she expected to receive now that she’d been separated from her sister.
The Duke of Danby was no direct relation to her, but that didn’t stop the patriarch from treating her as any other family member under his protection. He held expectations for his grandchildren—duties that must be fulfilled. Every one of them was expected to marry and fill a nursery.
In that order.
Nonsense was not to be tolerated.
Furthermore, Meredith had failed to live up to his demands. Her first time on the marriage mart had been a disaster, and she dreaded the thought of ever stepping foot in a London ballroom again.
“I am told a young lady’s first time in Society can be overwhelming.” The duke’s voice startled her. “However, Julian said you met the challenge with an impressive amount of mettle.”
Meredith’s brother-in-law had a tendency to overlook her faults because he was smitten with her sister and would do or say anything to avoid upsetting his wife.
Meredith wet her suddenly dry lips and felt herself grasping for control of her words. “Y-your grandson is t-too k-kind.” Inwardly, she cringed at the shakiness of her voice. Before she continued, she silently reminded herself to slow down. “I was fortunate to have a Season, Your Grace. I am grateful to Julian for making it possible.”
