Dangerous Games of a Broken Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Linfield, Emma

  “You say that I should not fear you, My Lord, yet you are scaring me.” Her heart hammered in her chest.

  “I am sorry for that. I ought to get to the matter at hand,” he said, his voice tinged with regret. “You must think of me as a friend, not a foe. You see, there are secrets being kept, and they concern you. I am closer to your family than you may think, and I have, indeed, endeavored to assist as much as possible.”

  “You are close to my family?”

  He nodded. “As I say, there are secrets being kept from you. I do not know how much you understand about these particular secrets, though it seems you are extremely intuitive. Your marriage to the Duke of Bradford is to be a fortuitous one, is it not? You hope to secure your future, and that of your family, in case anything should happen? I am correct in assuming that, yes?”

  “You are most impertinent in your questions, My Lord,” she shot back, though something in his words piqued her curiosity. What secrets was he talking about? If they involved him, they could only be bad. She tried to think of what they could be, but her worried mind would not cooperate.

  “If there were time for propriety, I would not have sought to speak to you in this manner,” he said solemnly. “Now, I ask again, you are hoping to protect your family by marrying the Duke of Bradford, are you not?”

  She paused for a moment, before nodding. “As any daughter must, especially when they are the only child.”

  “That is most admirable of you, Lady Adelaide, and proves your impeccable character. Indeed, it is as I suspected. However, you must not marry the Duke. Might I make an offer to you, instead? Not of marriage, but of security?” He smiled warmly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I will take care of yourself and your mother, if anything should ever happen to your father. I will not ask for your hand in marriage, though I would ask that you permit me to speak with you on occasion. Perhaps, you may thaw towards me, in time. If not, there shall be no expectation. I wish only to help you, for you have captivated me, heart and soul. I may never be able to call you my wife, but I will not see a demon like the Duke of Bradford make you his. He would ruin you, in a thousand different ways.”

  She shook her head vehemently. “I do not comprehend, Lord Rowntree. Why would you offer such a thing? There can be no benefit to you, for I cannot marry in return for kind deeds. I will not. Indeed, I am no longer certain that I can marry for security, either.” The words spilled out unbidden, prompting her cheeks to burn with embarrassment. She had not intended to be so candid, and yet the feelings had bubbled over regardless.

  He arched an eyebrow. “You are no longer certain of your engagement to the Duke?”

  “I…” Before she could answer, a shadow stretched across the entrance to the alleyway. Reuben himself stood there, highlighted by the bronze glow of the setting sun.

  I pray you did not hear that, she thought frantically. I pray you did not hear me say that. With Jasper’s heart already captured by another, you are my only hope for a secure future. I did not mean what I said. For my mother’s sake, I did not mean it.

  “What is all this?” Reuben spat, glowering at Lord Rowntree. “You have lowered yourself to such an extent that you have taken to frightening young ladies in darkened alleyways? Lady Adelaide, are you well? Has this brute harmed you in any way?”

  “He has not, Your Grace,” she whimpered. It did not seem as though he had heard her previous words. And yet, Reuben was notoriously hard to read.

  “Good, then you ought to return home,” he said firmly. “You should not be walking alone. When we are wed, I shall insist upon it. I know you enjoy the freedom, but it is neither safe nor appropriate.”

  She nodded. “I am sorry, Your Grace. I did not expect to run into anyone on such a short journey. I never do.”

  “No, but I cannot always be here to protect you,” he replied. “Have I not shown you how easily you may be accosted in such places as this, when you choose to wander by yourself?” A glitter of amusement shone in his dark eyes. Adelaide blushed, remembering the last time she had found herself with company in this alley. He had crept up behind her and taken her by surprise. Now, however, she was not sure who she feared more—Lord Rowntree or the Duke himself.

  “You did, Your Grace.”

  “Well then, I hope I do not have to endure a repeat of this unfortunate situation. Not unless I am the one doing the accosting,” he said, with a wry grin. “Now, return to your home, as I have asked. I would not have you witness what is to come.”

  Adelaide stared at Lord Rowntree. “What is to come?”

  Reuben smirked. “It is not for a young lady’s ears.”

  “Promise me you will not hurt Lord Rowntree,” she urged. “I do not believe he meant me any harm. Indeed, I think his intentions were good. He wished to tell me something, that is all. Please, Your Grace, do not hurt him.”

  “He wished to tell you something, did he?” Reuben turned his attention to Lord Rowntree. “And what, pray tell, did he wish to impart? I am eager to know.”

  Lord Rowntree looked terrified. “Nothing, Your Grace. I had intended to wait for her father, to discuss… the business agreement that you and I talked about. I happened upon her, and sought to warn her against walking alone. That is all.”

  He glanced at Adelaide. “Is that true?”

  “I… I do not know,” she murmured.

  “I despise liars,” Reuben remarked, casting the bulk of his venom upon Lord Rowntree. “Do not seek to bring my future wife into your deceit. Now, Lady Adelaide, please return to your home. I will not ask you again.”

  Helpless to do anything but obey, Adelaide pressed her hand against Reuben’s forearm, in a gesture of affection, before moving out of the alleyway. She did not want to go. She did not want to leave Lord Rowntree to whatever Reuben might do, no matter what her personal feelings towards Lord Rowntree were. And yet, she could not stop Reuben. She did not have the power to stand in his way.

  She had barely walked ten paces before she heard the first dull impact of a punch. A groan pierced the air, followed by a second sickening thud. Covering her ears with her hands, she ran towards home, cursing the day she had met Reuben and agreed to his courtship.

  For now, she doubted everything. Secrets surrounded her, and they ran deep. There was something she didn’t know—she could feel it now, though she owed the revelation to Lord Rowntree. And yet, she wasn’t sure how to discover the facts. Where could she even begin?

  The darkest secret, however, was Reuben himself. He had revealed the truth of his character to her, peeling back the layers to expose the real monster beneath. The one everyone had warned her about. The one who had done all those dark and troublesome things. The one who had whispers of illicit behavior and deceit about him, that she had chosen to ignore.

  She had made a deal with the devil, and there would be no breaking that contract now.

  Chapter 27

  With her heart in tatters and her mind racing with the prospect of marrying such a man as the Duke of Bradford, Adelaide hurried upstairs to seek solace in the letter that Jasper had left at the house whilst she was out. She had been awaiting its arrival and rejoiced at the sight of it on the shelf by the door. Indeed, she almost forgot that the letter was not intended for her, but for Miss Green instead.

  Reaching her bedchamber, she closed the door and went to sit in the window-nook. Once there, she curled up against the cushions and unfolded the letter.

  Dear Miss Green,

  London misses you, also, though I hope you are finding some enjoyment in the fresh air of the countryside. Indeed, I am almost eager to find myself out of the city and back at Oakwell Hall until Summer comes around again. I have missed the place dearly, and the delights it has to offer in its walks and gardens. Christmastide there is always a wondrous thing.

  Indeed, it is with that in mind that I find myself glad that you have come to approve of my friendship with Lady Adelaide, for I treasure our acquaintance above most t
hings in this life. She has been a constant at my side all these years, and I should have hated to hear that you wished us to separate from one another’s lives. In truth, if I am speaking plainly, I am not certain I could have done so. She adores Christmastide. I have so many fond memories of our families’ gatherings between our two houses, in the depths of Winter.

  As for your question regarding any feelings towards Lady Adelaide, beyond simple friendship. It would be ungentlemanly of me to reply in an honest fashion. I am sorry, but I cannot answer you. I hope you can understand.

  Oakwell Hall has many wondrous forests and woods, and there is a particular trail that I have often walked. It is prettiest in the Autumn, though I rarely get to see it. The way the leaves change from green to bronze, and tumble to the ground in a rich blanket of deep color. It is most remarkable. There is an excellent lake close by that I often frequent, and many times we have skated upon it when the Winter has been particularly bitter and frozen the water to ice. Lady Adelaide is far more adept at skating than I, who tends to appear somewhat like a newborn foal. I have lost count of the amount of times I have fallen, though I enjoy it immensely. Have you ever skated? I know people like to skate on the Thames when it freezes over, but I have never been in London to do so. If you have skated here, pray tell me what it is like? Please, tell me of the walks you enjoy the most, where you are?

  It cheers me to hear that you understand the way that I have been raised. I, too, can understand how alien they may seem to someone who is unfamiliar with these ways and dogmas, but it is all I have known. Even when I have felt affection in the past, I have not known how to express it. It can hurt, and is endlessly frustrating. I am learning, however. The only person who knows my true character is Lady Adelaide, I believe. I must apologize if I am mentioning her too much in this letter—I only wish for you to know her better. She is dear to me, and I hope she is dear to you.

  Your words regarding friendship both please me and confuse me, Miss Green. Is that all you seek from me? Only, I had thought in your previous letters that there was more to our acquaintanceship than simply that? Have I misunderstood? If I have, I urge you to put it in plain terms. I shall not be offended, I only wish to know the truth. Indeed, friendship is a rather marvelous thing, and if I cannot pursue a romance with you, then I shall be more than happy to settle for an acquaintance.

  My boundaries reach as far as they are able. I must have clarity upon your feelings before I may be free with mine. I am restricted, this is true, but I would move heaven and earth for the right partner, with whom I could share my life. If you no longer feel that that is you, you must tell me. Be blunt, be cruel, for it shall be kinder to me in the end.

  I had not realized that your fortune had been perpetuated by your grandfather. He must have been a remarkable man, to forge such a formidable path for himself. I should like to hear more of him, and of your father. Does he still have business in tobacco? Has he visited the Americas? With such a trade, I imagine so. Might I hear more about it, if you would care to indulge me? Such far-off lands have always intrigued me.

  It is funny that you should speak of woods with a babbling brook, for the image is a familiar one. I have walked in similar forests, back home in Yorkshire. There is one that surrounds the grounds of Kiveton Hall, where I have often enjoyed an afternoon in the brisk chill of Winter, and paused at a bridge to watch minnows darting below. It is a splendid thing.

  I have similar memories of Christmastide, also. Indeed, one year, my friend and I made a snowman in the gardens. I used my own scarf to keep it warm, though I believe it had to be discarded once the sunshine melted the snowman. It had become sodden and had begun to molder. Not a pleasant image, but the act of building the snowman is one of my most treasured memories. I cannot recall what we used for its nose, though I believe it may have been a fruit. It is truly one of my happiest memories.

  Your mother and father sound wonderful. I am as fond of my own. My father is a humorous, generous man with a fierce spirit and a protective nature. I do not think he likes that he is ageing. At heart, he is still a young man with the same vigor and strength of his formative years. My mother is sweet, gentle and kind, with a beautiful laugh that can cheer the soul. Most of the books that I have read have been at her behest, for she is one of the sagest individuals in all of England. Had she been born a man, I imagine she would have ruled the country. Blasphemous, perhaps, but it is true. My admiration for her knows no bounds. It has been my gift in life to be surrounded by ladies of similar caliber and sharp intellect.

  I hope that I have the same strength and softness of character that you describe, even if you and I are not to wed. Such a thing would be an excellent asset, and I pray that I have those qualities. My family are the most important to me. I would do anything for them. Perhaps, that qualifies me… I do not know.

  I am happy that your mother and father found fondness and happiness in their marriage. My own were lucky enough to marry for love, and so I suppose I have always hoped to be as fortunate. They met one another at a dance, and fell into a deep attraction upon the event of their first dance. It is the fairy-tale that many pursue. I know not everyone can be gifted with that most precious of things—love—but I have not given up on finding it for myself. I wish you love, too. If we are to be friends, then I pray that you seek the man of your dreams, and he is everything you have ever desired. He shall be a fortunate man, indeed.

  If you were to marry another, I would not be jealous. If he made you happy, what reason would I have for jealousy? It is indeed the fault of the human condition that we cannot always have the things that our hearts desire, for I have known desire and seen it ignored. A fault on my own part, too, if I am honest. However, I would not feel envy if you were to discover true happiness. I would wish you only joy.

  I also enjoy the idea of a fantasy romance, but I am far more logical than that. I know it cannot always be so. Sometimes, we are simply not intended to experience such fantasy. I accepted that long ago. I do not wish you to think that you are not dear to me, because you are, but your words have made me realize that you might find a union more fulfilling elsewhere. I long for that, on your behalf.

  If your mother insists upon your finding a fortuitous match, I hope it may be with a worthy gentleman of good means, who can offer love as well as fortune. I resent the way in which young ladies are forced into marriages they do not want. They seek security and safety in the promise of dangerous men, and I hate that they feel as though they must. It seems wrong to me. A lady should be allowed to choose whomever she pleases, without fear of losing the solid foundation on which she stands.

  Truly, it sickens me that you must be ushered onto a dancefloor before eligible suitors and are made to choose the most suitable. That cannot lead to happiness, I am certain. It can only end in misery and discontentment. I have seen a young lady endure such a match, and it breaks my heart. I know she is doing it for noble reasons, and yet I wish she would not. I wish she would understand that there must be better gentlemen out there, who can offer the same security. I cannot stand to see her hurt, and I believe her future husband may wound her deeply. It is my greatest sorrow that ladies are forced into this.

  Apologies for ending on a somewhat negative note. Just know that it is my fondest wish to see you wed to a gentleman who is worthy of you. That is my wish for all ladies. However, as you and I have shared an affection, I wish it even more so for you.

  Please, tell me more of the things you adore in life. For me, it is the simple things. It is walking, and reading, and enjoying a quiet evening with dear friends and family. It is sitting beneath a willow tree, listening to the fronds rustle in the light breeze. It is opening a new novel beside a roaring fire. It is eating and drinking in happiness, around a table of laughter and merriment.

  I look forward to receiving your reply.

  Fondest regards,

  Lord Gillet

  Adelaide re-read the letter several times, absorbing every word. She had never ex
pected to find so much talk of her within it. It had taken her by surprise, leaving her somewhat breathless as she clutched it in trembling hands. He had spoken so fondly of their friendship and alluded to his own emotions regarding her engagement. She knew he did not agree with it, but only now was she starting to see the vehemence in his distaste for the match.

  What does this mean? She wondered. She hardly dared to believe that his feelings matched her own, and yet there was much to be found in the subtext of his words. Am I the person he desired in the past? He said he could not answer her question regarding me—does that mean that he did feel something beyond friendship for me once? Her heart pounded in her chest as she mused upon the notion. She racked her brain, trying to find a moment that she might have missed.

  What pleased her the most was his apparent resignation regarding his affection towards Miss Green. The entire purpose of these letters had been to let him down gently, but he seemed to be doing that of his own accord. She figured it would take one or two more letters and the task would be complete. Deep down, she knew she would miss writing to him like this. It had given her a means to explore her own feelings. As soon as it was over, she was not certain what she would do.