by Allie Borne
“I believe that the Viscount was my grandfather’s uncle. He must have been four score, at the least.”
Eleanor nodded, “You have the right of it, dear boy.” Then, shaking her head in mock sincerity, she continued. “Tis a tragedy, really. The poor Lord outlasted his own son, Johan Dryer, dead these ten years past. He died of a broken heart, they say, when his own son, Andrew Dryer, was sent abroad by the Viscount.
Attending to business in the colonies, he met a married without his grandfather’s consent. It seems that Lord Dryer cut all support to his grandson, after Andrew off and married a colonist. One bred and raised there, no less.”
Eleanor shivered in solidarity with the viscount and continued her tale, “Andrew Dryer and his wife were forced to return to England, in hopes of appealing to his father, Jonah for support. Tragically, they never made it, succumbing to fever in route.
“But that is in the past, now, and a new generation arises!” Eleanor smiled and winked at Leah, who rolled her eyes.
“Grandmother, will you please simply say what it is you mean, and cease with this dramatic monologue.”
“Very well,” Eleanor humphed. “It seems that Andrew Dryer, the banished gentleman, had a son. Lord Dryer wanted nothing to do with the colonial get of his traitorous grandson. When the ship arrived, bearing the child and the dead bodies of Andrew and his wife, the babe was foisted off on some impoverished relatives. Money was provided for his education and upkeep, but the young man was given no indication of his status. I suppose he hoped to keep the boy hidden in preference for another family member to inherit. Yet, as he continued to grow older, many of the Dryer family aged and passed away. Few heirs remained. By the time of his death, Lord Dryer had come to the realization that he would have to acknowledge his great grandson or risk losing the ancestral title.
“The viscount delineated all of this in his last will and testament, a portion of which was posted in the London Gazette. Now, all of London is in a twitter, desperate to locate this young man and ingratiate themselves to the up and coming lord.”
“And you are hoping I will know who this young man might be, seeing as how he is a distant cousin of mine?”
“Ha!” Eleanor waved her plump hand in dismissal, “I would not leave such an intriguing matter to chance, dear boy. No! Instead, I penned a few friends and discovered the identity of the new viscount myself.”
“And?” Lindsay prompted, “beyond exasperation at her grandmother’s antics.”
“And the young man in question is none other than John Donovan, legally named Jonathan Reginald Dryer, Viscount Dryer.”
Charles sat up in his chair, aghast. “My cousin is the new viscount?”
“Distant cousin, turns out,” Eleanor chuckled, giddy with excitement at the new found connection.
“We must wake him immediately and celebrate the good news!” Lindsay squealed, rapturously happy for her friend.
“I doubt that to be a wise choice,” Charles hedged. “John, or shall I say Lord John and Bobby stayed up quite late, making merry. He is well and truly soused and will not thank us for the waking just now. Let us plan a noonday feast and surprise him on the morrow.”
All persons agreed to the wisdom of the plan and soon made haste to bed.
~ ~ ~
Lindsay stood in front of the window, too excited to sleep. “Do you think he has inherited a vast estate?” Lindsay queried, one of a litany of questions she had posed to her exhausted husband. “It is very likely, now will you please come to bed? My feet grow cold without you to warm them.”
Lindsay turned to her cherished spouse and smiled. “Just one more moment. I would very much like to see the moon set. I have never before been up and about at this hour.”
Turning back to the window, Lindsay gasped and leaned her forehead against the glass for a closer look. Narrowing her eyes she only shook her head when her husband asked “What do you see, my love?”
It was her sister, Leah, clothed only in her white night rail, running from the stable as if her heels were afire. Lindsay did not wish to share any possible indiscretion with Charles, without checking with Leah first. Was Leah having a dalliance with the coachman? Nay! She would never be that fool hardy. Perhaps she had simply gone to check on Chelsea, her mare. Leah took the fool horse everywhere, despite the animal’s poor disposition, she loved it dearly. As one might cosset a lap dog, Leah was oft found cooing and kissing and feeding her skittish beast.
Thus resolved, Lindsay turned to her husband and bed. Charles wasted no time gathering her close and nuzzling her neck in invitation. “Move your hair for me, I wish to see the back of your neck, and that terrible bruise.”
Lindsay complied with a sigh, then shivered as cold medal slid down her nape and breasts. “What?” she wondered, then peered down to see a finely wrought locket dangling from her neck.
Twisting toward Charles, Lindsay grinned. “My first bride’s gift!” she crowed, then grasped the happy ornament in her hands, prying it open.
“Seeing you there, eagerly soaking up the moonlight, I knew the time was right,” Charles chuckled.
A handsome rendition of her husband’s fine face peered up at her from within the oval locket. “There is another compartment just here,” Charles offered, showing Lindsay how to pry open the front and read the message inscribed within.
“Lindsay Diana Donovan, you are, and always will be, the focus of my world. Tell me you are not sorry we wed.”
“If I were immortal as my namesake herself, I could not be happier than to be tied to you for all eternity. You are, and always have been, my light in a dark, uncertain world. Thank you for the locket,” she smiled through her tears, holding it dearly to her chest. “Thank you for being my friend, and my lover.
“Despite our past, we have learned to love and be loved. It is in being bound to you that I am, finely, free.”
And, so, as the moon sunk down below the horizon, Lindsay sunk down into her marriage bed, offering up herself to the currents of passion that flowed between the two forceful souls, both discovering, repeatedly, the rapture of submitting, one unto the other.
Author’s Note
For centuries, mental illness has been a much misunderstood and well contended issue. Married women in the eighteenth century had few rights beyond those granted by their husbands. Divorce was not readily available, therefore limiting the avenues through which a man might rid himself of a troublesome wife.
A man of privilege, such as Sir Richard, could send his wife away, or have her committed. It is important to note that the practices that now seem barbaric to our modern sensibilities (bleeding and purging the patient, for example), were well accepted practices for most maladies of the time. George Washington himself was a victim of over bleeding, an ineffectual treatment for a “morbid soar throat”.
I hope that you have enjoyed How to Impress a Gentleman. It is the first book in my “A Lady’s Guide to Love” series, in which our charming but impetuous young heroines somehow find the path to our heroes’ hearts, while taking some very misguided steps along the way. Leah and John star as the heroine and hero in the next novel, How to Court a Viscount. Aiden and Charlotte’s antics are sure to entertain, in the third book, How to Romance a Rogue. Both will be available on Amazon in 2013. To learn about my other novels, or to send me a message, find me on Facebook, under Allie Borne, and on my website at www.AllieBorne.com.
Table of Contents
Title Page
How to Impress a Gentleman
For my mother, who taught me that Love is the one true and lasting remedy for whatever ails us.
Prologue
Warwick, England
August 1768
Chapter One- A Heedless Betrayal
October 1773,
Five Years Later
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~
Warwick, England
October 1773
Two Years Prior
Chapter Two-The Set Down
&nb
sp; Chapter Three- A House Party
Chapter Four- Escape
Chapter Five- Pursuit
Chapter Six- The Rescue
Chapter Seven- The Pilgrimage
Chapter Eight- Marriage Beds
Chapter Nine- Sunset and Separation
Chapter Ten- Honored Guest or Hired Help?
Chapter Eleven- A Sinful Sabbath
Chapter Twelve- A Fall from Grace
Chapter Thirteen- Revelations
Chapter Fourteen- Candid Conversations
Chapter Fifteen- Surprising Salutations
Author’s Note
