Loving a Forsaken Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Aria Norton

  "I know our situation just as well as you. I handle the household accounts. We can't even afford beef or sugar anymore, Joshua. Did you know that?" She watched his face, knowing that he would have noticed their meals becoming less extravagant. "This is too great a cost, Joshua. It's foolish!"

  "What would you have me do!" he bellowed, rising from his chair. She blinked, taken aback at his fury. "I can hardly go back to him now, after we've given him our word. We'll just have to go along with it as best we can and hope that all is well in the end."

  Abigail took his hand, his anger immediately evaporating. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come against your ability to make decisions. I'll go along with the plan." She knew he was under tremendous strain. Perhaps it had been selfish of her to ask to live with him after Father had passed away. If not for her, he could live in a more modest home, and employ only a cook and maid. She bit her lower lip. Maybe she should make the sacrifice and return to the cottage to live with her mother. The very thought made her feel sick to her stomach.

  He squeezed her hand, and his smile returned. It had been a long time since she had seen that smile. The weight of his responsibilities had made it vanish long ago. She would do anything to keep that spark of joy in his eyes.

  "Good girl. Now, I think we should celebrate our turn of fortunes! Come." He took her hand and hauled her out of her seat. Only time would tell if their fortunes had turned for better or for worse.

  He went to the drink cart and poured himself a Scotch. "Lord Brampton is a nice sort of man, don't you think?"

  Abigail blushed, "I don't think he was a particularly pleasant man, no."

  "Don't lie to me, Abby. I could tell that you found him attractive even if you were trying to hide it."

  "Lord Brampton is arrogant and conceited and impulsive from all I was able to tell from our meeting. I would not want his attention beyond that of the business relationship we have started."

  Joshua gave her a rueful smile. "Whatever you say, sister."

  She huffed and turned towards the hearth, wishing to hide her discomfort. "Well, that is the truth, no matter what you think." She bit her lip. Why would Lord Brampton look at her as anything other than a naive young country girl? Sighing, she turned back to her brother. "I am tired. I think I shall retire for the evening. Good night."

  Joshua stood. "Good night, sister. And you're sure you're alright?"

  "Yes, thank you." She hurried to her upstairs bedroom, closing the door behind her. She rested her back against the door, placing her hands behind the small of her back. What had they got themselves into with Lord Brampton? Abigail was still not entirely sure she could trust him. What were his motives for wanting to destroy Filmore?

  It had to be more than political, for Lord Brampton was already a member of the House of Lords. His place was secure there because he was a member of the landed gentry. He did not have to worry about being elected. He had the right to be a part of the decision-making for the nation because of an accident of birth.

  How was it fair that her brother had worked so hard, and spent all of his inheritance to try and win a place in the House of Commons? Lord Brampton would never know a day of want or hunger, while thousands of his countrymen went without the most basic of necessities. The injustice of their political system made her see red.

  Abigail pushed herself away from the door and sank into the chair in front of her small writing desk. She took out her journal, hidden in a secret compartment, taking out her quill and inkwell. It had been her practice to write about what had transpired during her day, no matter how mundane it had been. She wanted to document the adventures she had in her life, to preserve them for her children and grandchildren. Besides, it helped her to wind down before going to sleep.

  She turned to a fresh page and began to write:

  May 12, 1812

  Joshua has taken up with a man, a Lord Brampton of Harborough. He has asked us to aid him in the ruination of a man we do not even know. I feel that it will be our ruin if we are not careful. He has offered us three thousand pounds to help him. What kind of man pays to see his enemies crushed? I do not trust him.

  She bit her lower lip. No one even knew she kept a diary, let alone knew where it was. But she was leery about writing down what was in her heart that evening. Sighing, she decided to write what scared her the most.

  Lord Brampton is a very handsome man. But he has taken no notice of me beyond our 'business relationship'. Am I always to be stuck in the background, continually passed over? Perhaps Mother is right. I will always be a spinster.

  But if I am to be a spinster, I will not retire to some lonely cottage by the sea. I would not be content to waste away the rest of my days, useless. I want to help bring about the change this world so desperately needs. Even if I am only destined to play a small part, I want the chance to do so.

  She set down her quill and blew on the ink to help it dry. She blotted the book before replacing it in the secret compartment. Mazzie knocked on her door then, asking if she was ready to change into her nightdress.

  "Yes, thank you, Mazzie." Abigail allowed her to loosen her stays and then climbed into her nightdress.

  "Did you see the gentleman who was here earlier this evening, Mazzie?"

  "I did, ma'am."

  "Have you ever seen him before?" Abigail went to bed and climbed under the covers.

  "I saw him at the opening ball of the season."

  "Have you heard anything about Lord Brampton? What sort of man is he?"

  "From what the other servants said, you know they gossip just as much as the gentry. He is a kind and generous master. He lost his parents several years ago, only six months apart. I don't know anything beyond that."

  Abigail nodded pensively. He was obviously not married, for no level-headed wife would allow her husband to make such a foolhardy plan. She dismissed Mazzie, wishing to be alone with her thoughts. Only time would tell if they were doing the right thing.

  Chapter 10

  A few days later, Thomas was informed that Ezra and Sarah had returned to London. His fears were confirmed that Sarah had wed the blaggard, his housekeeper relaying the news that the happy couple was looking to hire some extra servants.

  "They did not have much of a wedding trip, did they?" he asked disdainfully. No doubt, Filmore had been eager to get back to London and continue his campaign against Mr. Staton.

  "No, My Lord." His housekeeper stood before his desk with her hands clasped in front of her. She was an older woman who had many connections about the city amongst the gentry's servants.

  "Mrs. Talent, I wonder if you might keep your ears open for any tidbits of news from the Filmore Estate?"

  "I would be happy to, My Lord." Mrs. Talent was extremely loyal to him. She had taken it as a personal offense when Sarah had left him. Thomas knew he would be able to count on her if and when she found any information about Ezra Filmore.

  He dismissed Mrs. Talent and continued brooding. Deciding that he needed some fresh air, he stood and hurried out, not even bothering to retrieve his coat and hat. Thomas had kept a small hope alive that Sarah might return, having come to her senses. He had tried not to let his heart believe that there was still a chance they could be together. But not all that was over. Would he have forgiven her after the misery she had put him through? He would never know for sure.

  After a half-hour of wandering, he realised that he was at the Thornes’ residence. He let out a breath, finding that he had to know for sure that all hope was lost. He knocked on the door and was admitted by the butler.

  "Lord Thorne is just through here, sir."

  "Thank you." Thomas followed the wiry little man who had been the Thornes’ butler since before Thomas could remember. Thomas had grown up with Sarah, spending many happy hours with her family until they felt like his own. Now, all his memories of her were tainted by the betrayal she had wreaked upon his heart.

  "Lord Brampton. We have been expecting you." Lord Thorne stood and came to shake h
is hand as he entered the parlor. Thomas was surprised. He had not even known he would be coming himself.

  "You knew I would come?"

  "Yes. It's all over London, actually. Sarah has returned, married to that snake, Filmore. She is beyond our reach now."

  Lord and Lady Thorne looked like they had not slept very well for the last few days. Indeed, none of them had. Thomas sat down, exhausted. "So, it's true then? My housekeeper relayed the rumors to me this morning that they had eloped."

  "Yes, it is all too true, I'm afraid." Lady Thorne gave him a compassionate glance before wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. "My baby girl is gone." She tried to conceal a sob behind the cloth but then dissolved into tears again.

  "She is not dead, Agatha." Lord Thorne came to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Thomas felt for them. Sarah had not only left him; she had completely turned her back on her family, and all her friends. She had struck out on her own, and now she would have to face the consequences alone.

  "She might as well be dead! We cannot receive her under this roof ever again!"

  Thomas shifted awkwardly at Lady Thorne's outburst. She blushed, embarrassed by her behavior. "Excuse me, Lord Brampton. I have not been myself as of late." She left the room in a hurry, no doubt wanting to grieve in private.

  "Forgive her. She had had such hopes for the two of you. Sarah has disappointed us more than you can know." Lord Thorne stood and paced in front of the window, looking out into the garden.

  "There is nothing to forgive, sir. She has every right to her grief. Heaven knows I have been grieving over what might have been the last few days," Thomas admitted. He could have forgiven Sarah almost anything. Now that it was certain that Filmore had returned triumphant, he was more determined than ever to take out his revenge.

  But that was not something he could discuss with Lord Thorne. He would only try to persuade him to spare his daughter. And in doing so, he would have to pardon Filmore. No, he was determined to go through with his plan, and to Hades with the consequences.

  "I cannot express how sorry I am that my daughter has treated you this way. Believe me when I say that we did not raise her like that." Lord Thorne motioned to the door leading out to the lavish gardens. Lord Thorne was a bit of a green thumb, spending hours among the plants and trees. Thomas presumed that the older gentleman would rather be in his country home all year round, rather than travelling to the city six months out of the year. Perhaps now that Sarah was married, the couple would spend more time on their country estate.

  They walked out into the garden, the clouds covering the sun and casting a cool shade over the grounds. Thomas sighed, wishing that he could go back and keep Sarah from ever meeting Filmore. "Sometimes people will go their own way, no matter how they were raised. You were good parents to her and she has made her decision. I could forgive her that if only she had spoken with me. If only I had known her feelings had changed towards me, I would have released her."

  "Would you have?" Lord Thorne seemed to see right through the falsehood.

  Thomas gave a short laugh. "Well, I would have tried to convince her to stay with me. Perhaps that is why she felt the need to leave in the cover of night." Thomas had made so many mistakes. He had not even realised that Sarah did not feel the same way about him as he had felt about her. Had he been too forward, too obtrusive with his pursuance of her?

  Lord Thorne shook his head, "That may have been a part of why she left so suddenly. However, I think this is a rebellion against her mother and I more than anything. Maybe I was too hard on her. I don't know." Lord Thorne turned his tortured gaze on Thomas. "I failed to see that she had grown up. I always saw her as my sweet, innocent little girl. And in doing so, I failed to protect her." Lord Thorne let out a growl of frustration.

  "What kind of man is this Filmore, Lord Brampton? Who has stolen my daughter and dares show his face in London again? Forgive me for saying it, but if he were standing in front of me now I think it would take great restraint not to end his life with my bare hands."

  Thomas knew exactly how he felt. "I know what you mean. Believe me when I say that I would not be the one to stop you."

  "Yes, well. There is nothing we can do about it now. But we must do our best to make sure she is happy. From afar, of course. I wonder if she even realises what she has given up. Her mother will never forgive her."

  "Maybe in time, when Lady Thorne has had time to think things over she will allow Sarah to call on you both again."

  "We shall see. My wife does not let go of grudges quickly. And can we blame her? I wonder if you would be willing to do something for me, Lord Brampton?"

  Thomas cowered inwardly. He did not want to make any promises that he would have to break. "I shall try."

  "Would you please let us know how she is doing from time to time? That is, if you see her at any social functions? Her mother and I may not be able to see her personally, but I want to know she is safe and well."

  "Of course." Thomas felt a pang of guilt prick his conscience. Would he want to be the one to tell her father she was ruined? That her husband would soon be leaving London in disgrace if all went as he planned? He swallowed. "Well, I should take my leave. I have imposed on your hospitality long enough."

  "You are always welcome here, my boy. I hope that you will not abandon us, even though you and Sarah are no longer together. We would miss you terribly if you were to stop coming to visit us."

  Thomas felt tears come to his eyes. He had come to see Lord and Lady Thorne as his own parents. He had been afraid that they would never want to see him again, a painful reminder of what might have been. He cleared his throat. "Thank you, sir. I would be glad to come and visit now and again. You are very kind to offer it."

  "Nonsense. You are like a son to me, no matter what foolishness Sarah has wrought." Lord Thorne walked him to the door.

  "Please give Lady Thorne my best wishes. I shall try to come again as soon as I can." He bid Lord Thorne farewell, hurrying down the steps before he was overcome with emotion.

  He did not return home immediately, preferring to be alone for a while. The sky was filling with dark clouds, announcing that there was another storm on the way. It was just as well. The shadowed landscape matched his emotions. Before he had put too much space between himself and the Thorne house, he heard someone calling to him from the window of a carriage.

  "I say! Is that you, Lord Brampton?" Thomas halted at the sound of Harold Withesby's voice. Letting out a breath between clenched teeth, he turned.

  "Hello, Withesby. What is it you want?"

  "Is that any way to greet a friend? I only wanted to express my profound apologies. I have heard that Sir Filmore has returned with his wife. I suppose that means that your wedding will not be going forward after all?"

  It took all of his restraint not to punch Withesby through the open window. "Good day, Withesby." Thomas turned and hurried down the street.

  "I hope I have not said anything to offend you!" Harold called. Thomas could hear the amusement in his voice, but he did not give him another backward glance. Sarah had made a fool of him, but she would not get away with it. He would see the Filmores destroyed if it was the last thing he did.

  Chapter 11

  "Are you sure this is a good idea, Miss? Won't the master be angry if you are meeting a man here all by yourself?" Mazzie tucked a stray curl behind Abigail's ear, finishing with arranging her hair.

  "Nonsense. This is strictly business." Abigail stood and went to admire herself in the floor-length mirror. Deciding to wear a more brilliant colour for her meeting with Lord Brampton, she had chosen her most expensive gown. It was a beautiful deep blue gown, a gift from her mother on her eighteenth birthday at her coming out celebration.