by Joyce Alec
The Earl’s Regret
Joyce Alec
Contents
The Earl’s Regret
Bonus Regency Romance Stories
The Earl’s Regret
Brides ad Gentlemen
Text Copyright © 2018 by Joyce Alec
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2018
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311
The Earl’s Regret
Prologue
“Elizabeth? Come here, please.”
Seven-year-old Elizabeth Bolton, only daughter to the Earl of Lewisham, looked up from her frustrating attempts to play a tune on the pianoforte and saw her mother standing in the doorway, a small smile on her face.
“Of course, Mama,” she replied, slipping from the piano stool and hurrying towards her mother. “Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all,” her mother replied at once, with an affectionate smile. “We are to have a visitor, and he is bringing his son with him. I thought you might like to spend some time in his company and make sure he is welcome.”
Elizabeth, who had a mother inclined to show familial affection, smiled up at her in delight. “A visitor, Mama?”
It was drawing close to spring, and the last few months had been rather dreary for a young girl whose only wish was to run around outdoors. She had been forced to remain within, confined to the house and at the mercy of her governess. It was not as though her governess was in any way cruel, but rather that she found Elizabeth rather poor at all the particular skills required of a young lady. It was a welcome relief to be taken away from the pianoforte, even if she was meant to be practicing.
“Now, my dear,” her mother continued, as they made their way towards the drawing room. “You must be on your very best behavior.”
“I will, Mama,” Elizabeth replied at once, seeing her brother Frederick already standing by her father as she entered the drawing room. “What did you say his name was?”
Her father cleared his throat, his eyes filled with warmth upon seeing his daughter. “You look very lovely today, Elizabeth.”
She smiled, knowing the blessing of having two loving parents at her side. “Thank you, Papa.”
“The Marquess of Stowell,” her mother answered, coming to sit down beside the fire. “He is a widower.”
“And a very fine man by all accounts,” her father interrupted, with a slight gleam in his eye. “His son is a little older than you—more Frederick’s age—but it is important that you greet him properly. He is Luke, Earl of Mallon, for he has a title in his own right.”
Elizabeth, entirely unaware of why such a thing was important, nodded eagerly. “Of course, I will, Papa.”
Frederick sniggered, his eyes dancing. “She does not understand, Papa.”
Frowning, Elizabeth’s smile faded from her young face. “Understand what?” Looking over at her mother, Elizabeth saw her look towards her father, who cleared his throat rather gruffly.
“Well, Elizabeth, we wish to tie the two families together.”
“Why?”
His gaze turned back to her after a moment of hesitation. “Because you will need to find a good husband for yourself and to marry above your title is an honor that I know you will come to appreciate. His father and I are to enter into business together, and this is the final part of our agreement.”
Sinking down into a chair, Elizabeth tried to understand what her father was talking about. She had never really thought about marriage or the like, given that she was only a child, but now her father seemed to be talking about such things as though she ought to be giving her future a great deal of consideration.
“It is all arranged,” her mother said, smiling. “You need not worry, Elizabeth. I am sure the boy will grow up to be as good a man as his father. It is a wonderful match.”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, struggling to take in the news. She had never really thought about her future, and certainly not about matrimony, but it now appeared that her parents had thought of everything. There would be no question about her future, no wondering about who she might meet and where she might go. It was all settled.
“So, I will never have a Season?” she asked her mother, her eyes rounding just a little. “I will not be presented?”
“Oh, you can have all of that,” the earl replied with a broad smile, “for I would not deprive my only daughter of her chance to experience all that London society has to offer!”
“It is just that you need not worry about courtship or the like,” her mother explained with a warm smile. “That is a blessing in itself, my dear. Trust me on that.”
Her father said something that made her mother laugh, but Elizabeth did not hear it. All she could think about was what her future was to look like, feeling rather nauseous over the fact that she was about to meet her future husband without any kind of warning.
The butler entered and introduced their visitors, and Elizabeth, as was expected, rose at once and gave the best curtsy she could, feeling her mother’s gentle hand on her shoulder as she rose. It gave her comfort and reassurance, her young mind struggling to comprehend all that she had been told.
“And this is my son, Luke,” the marquess said after introductions had been made. “He is delighted to make your acquaintance.”
Luke, who appeared to be around ten years of age, bowed deeply, his eyes rather serious for one so young. Elizabeth curtsied again, wondering if he knew of what their parents had arranged. When their eyes met, she felt herself grow queasy and dropped her gaze, unable to look at him any longer.
“Very glad you are both here,” she heard her father say, as the marquess and his son sat down. “I am sure this shall be the start of a very long and happy acquaintance between us.”
Elizabeth’s eyes shot to her father, who—much to her surprise—was looking at her with a great deal of fondness.
“I think so,” the marquess replied with a broad smile. “Luke is more than delighted with the arrangement, I can assure you.”
“As is Elizabeth,” her father replied, before pausing in their conversation as various trays were set out before them.
Elizabeth felt her mouth go dry as she felt Luke’s eyes on her, not able to look back at him nor even smile. It was all too much to take in, all too much to comprehend for a mind so young.
“Smile, Elizabeth,” she heard her mother whisper, trying her best to do so at once. “All will be quite well, I assure you. In time, you will come to appreciate this.”
Elizabeth nodded mutely, hoping in her heart that it would all be as her mother said. Her future was determined, her path already cut. All she had to do was follow it.
1
Twelve Years Later
Luke, Earl of Mallon, sat quietly as he listened to his father go on and on about the various aspects of London, as though they had not been amongst society before. His father, the Marquess of Stowell, greatly enjoyed spending time in London, and having been here for three Seasons previously, Luke was getting rather frustrated with just how his father seemed disinclined to acknowledge the fact that Luke was well aware of all of London’s foibles.
“Father,” he said firmly, as
his father drew breath. “You need not worry. I am not about to throw myself headlong into a gambling club or drink excessively until I can barely stand up.”
His father frowned, and Luke was well aware that he was recalling the first year Luke had come to London for the Season. He had done everything he ought not to have done and had brought a great deal of shame to the family name.
Of course, he had learned from that experience and had vowed not to do anything like that again. The last two years he had proven as much, and he intended to do much the same this year. It was not as though he did not enjoy cards or dancing with as many eligible young ladies as he could, but he simply did not need to do so to excess.
“It is just as well you are going to keep a level head,” his father muttered, passing one hand over his eyes as he sat down. “I have it on good authority that your betrothed will be present at this evening’s ball.”
Luke blinked, a heavy weight immediately settling in his stomach. “Elizabeth?” he said rather hoarsely. “I have not seen her in many years.”
“Not from lack of trying on my part,” his father replied gruffly. “But her father was forced to go overseas to check on our holdings there, and I certainly did not expect him to be gone for three years!”
Luke frowned, trying to recall what had happened. “Was it not that he was rather unwell?” he asked, glancing up at his father. “Did not his wife and son go out to tend to him?”
His father nodded slowly. “Indeed, they did. Left your dear Elizabeth alone in that house with an old aunt for companion. I suppose they had to ensure that the place was run well and that everything was in order, but that must have been a somewhat lonely existence.”
As well as a good reason not to entertain my company, Luke thought to himself, recalling how his request to call upon the family at the house had been rejected, albeit with a very nicely written note.
“Good that he is recovered though, and he’s now back where he belongs,” his father continued cheerfully. “I should go out to our holdings soon, I suppose.”
Luke shook his head. “I doubt you have need to, Father,” he replied firmly. “The Earl of Lewisham has only just returned, and after three years there, I am quite sure that all is in order.”
His father chuckled. “Be that as it may, I would quite like to go and visit,” he replied, his eyes bright. “Age is soon to catch up with me, and I would do these things before I am unable to so much as climb into a carriage unaided.”
Chuckling, Luke rolled his eyes. His father was one of the most youthful men he knew, despite his age. Tall and rather lean, he had never given in to the excesses of wealth that so many other gentlemen did. Over time, his once brown hair had become liberally streaked with white, although the sharpness of his blue eyes had never left him. He and Luke were very similar in coloring and features, giving Luke a glimpse into what he might one day look like. He hoped that he carried the same sense of authority and gravitas that his father so easily displayed. There was honor in everything the man did, making Luke quite proud of his lineage.
“Now, about Elizabeth,” his father calmly continued. “Her father has promised her a Season of course, for what young lady’s life would be complete without enjoying such a thing?” He chuckled, as Luke rolled his eyes, waving one finger at him. “And you need not protest, for I well remember how you behaved when you first came here.”
The words of protest died on Luke’s lips, heat creeping into his face.
“She will be much more well-mannered than you were, of course,” his father continued, still smiling. “But, then again, that may well be because young ladies are held to a much higher standard than the rest of us for whatever reason.” He paused for a moment, holding Luke’s gaze. “Give her the Season, Luke, and then announce your betrothal. You will have to court her, of course, but her father has already assured me that she is quite willing for such a thing to occur. She does want to know you better.”
Luke nodded slowly, trying to recall what Elizabeth looked like. It had been a great many years since he had last seen her, worsened still by the fact that her father had taken ill whilst abroad. He did not even think he would recognize her, although he had heard that she had grown into quite a beautiful young woman.
“Society at large is not aware of your betrothal,” his father said quietly. “You can make it public any time you wish, although I am sure there will be more than a few whispers going around the moment you begin to court her!”
Luke tried to smile, sitting back in his chair and turning his gaze to the fire. “Will she be there with her parents and brother?”
His father frowned for a moment before shaking his head. “The brother, Frederick, is just recently married, I believe,” he said slowly, trying to remember. “I think it was last Season, or so I heard. Married very well and is already on the way to producing the heir—provided it is a boy, of course!” He chuckled wryly to himself and rose to pour himself a snifter of brandy, offering one to Luke, who took it without hesitation. “They have settled in the country, in a smaller estate for the time being.”
“So, he will not be present then,” Luke murmured to himself, still feeling rather conflicted over the whole situation. “Her father?”
“Both of her parents should be present,” his father said, nodding. “I will be glad to shake the earl’s hand again, that is for certain. I have worried over his health, I must say.”
Luke grinned. “And your holdings, no doubt.”
Much to his surprise, his father did not smile, his eyes sliding from the fire towards Luke. “No, indeed. I surprised myself, of course, but I discovered that I cared more for my friend’s health than for anything else. As you know, the earl and I have been in business together for some time, and during those years, I have discovered him to be a true friend. To lose his friendship would be a much harder blow than the difficulties it might cause my business.”
The solemnity of his father’s words hit Luke hard. “I understand, Father,” he said quietly. “I was jesting; that is all.” He turned his gaze back towards the fire, his jaw set. He had been able to forget almost entirely about Lady Elizabeth for the last few years, finding that he rather enjoyed courting and dancing, appreciating the bright smiles and fine pairs of eyes that settled on him. He had been head over heels with all the attention he had received during his first year in London, but that had slowly begun to settle. He was determined to be as honorable a man as his father was, not wishing to bring any kind of embarrassment to their name. At least, no more than he already had done! However, to meet the lady again, the one he was to marry and make a home with, that was quite unsettling.
Whilst Luke appreciated his father’s wisdom in setting up such a match, knowing that it would be good for both families, he found the notion of having his choice of whom to marry taken away from him to be rather disconcerting. He would have much preferred to have found his own wife, in the usual manner, instead of having one foisted upon him. However, given that he was under his father’s instruction, Luke knew he had very little choice. He could not cry off now, especially when the family’s reputation and future relationship was at stake. He would just have to hope that it would all be quite all right. It would not do if Lady Elizabeth was rather tempestuous or, even worse, a flirt. Was she pretty? The fact that he would have to produce the heir with her made things all the worse, for if she was not in the least bit tolerable, then he might have some trouble there.
“You are looking worried, my son,” his father said quietly. “What is the matter?”
Aware that his father had always been able to see straight through him, Luke shot him a brief smile. “I am just wondering what Lady Elizabeth might be like,” he said, honestly. “I do not know of her character, nor of her features. In truth, I worry that I might not be able to recognize her come this evening!”
His father chuckled, swirling his brandy around in the bottom of the glass. “Have no fear, my son,” he replied with a smile. “She is a diamond
of the first water, or so I am told. As for her character, that I cannot say I know much about it, but I would presume that with a father as honorable as my dear friend, and a mother as gentle, she will have turned out very well. You need not concern yourself in that regard, Luke. I have chosen her wisely; believe me.”
“I hope so,” Luke muttered, putting one hand over his eyes for a moment, still feeling quite unsettled about meeting his betrothed again. “And I do hope that she is as content with the arrangement as I am.”
“I am sure she will be,” his father said firmly. “After all, children trust their parents, do they not? And plenty of marriages are formed in such a way. I know that you shall have a very happy marriage, Luke, which is just what I want for you.”
Luke dropped his hand, threw back the rest of his brandy, and got to his feet, seeing the glimmer of concern in his father’s expression.
“I had best go and prepare myself for this evening then,” he exclaimed with a bright smile, which—in turn—relieved the concern from his father’s face. “I would not want to make a poor impression on the lady in question.”
“Very good, my boy,” his father replied, lifting the last of his brandy in Luke’s direction. “I shall see you in a few hours then.”
Luke nodded and quit the room, walking swiftly up to his bedchamber. He would have a bath drawn and ensure that every bit of his outfit was clean, and where required, starched. Lady Elizabeth would have nothing to fault him on, and despite the warring of thoughts in his mind, Luke was determined to make a good impression. She was to be his wife, after all, whether he liked it or not.
2
