Earl of Carlyle (The Rogue Gentlemen Series Book 2)

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by Angela Conrad




  Earl of Carlyle

  BOOK TWO

  The Rogue Gentlemen Series

  By

  Angela J. Conrad

  Copyright 2020 © Angela J Conrad

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  Trademarked names appear throughout this book. Rather than use a trademark symbol with every occurrence of a trademarked name, names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  The information in this book is distributed on an “as is” basis, without warranty. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this work, neither the author nor the publisher shall have any liability to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  Earl of Carlyle, The Rogue Gentlemen - Series is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ASIN: B089588VR6

  Photography by Angela J Conrad

  Cover design by Carol’s Cover Design

  Back pencil art by James Nutt

  Prologue

  Marquis of Sandshire, also titled Earl of Carlyle, and Baron of Ardell shaped his influence and enormous income by means of inheritance, clever conservation of capital, and a robust shipping enterprise. He was just fifty-two, a widower, with one son holding the courtesy title of the Earl of Carlyle. This grown son at thirty years of age loved his father in a far greater way than most sons of his acquaintance loved their fathers. This father and son shared the loss of the marchioness who had been a fiery lady with dark brown hair and intriguing green eyes. Neither could accept her early death nor find a place in their heart to see her replaced. Her sparkling personality, loving heart, and superior looks were their gold standard for every new lady introduced to them. So far, neither gentlemen had seen anyone close to being a match for her.

  Both handsome and wealthy, the Marquis of Sandshire and his son, Earl of Carlyle were highly sought after and spoiled by all the attention. Though neither had a desire to marry, they both enjoyed the flirtations, suggestions, and sometimes favors of other ladies.

  Everything in the gentlemen’s lives was going along at a highly gratified pace, the diversion of friends and cards, the excitement of the great Sandshire clipper ships and their cargo, and the ability to be able to satisfy every need and desire with just one glance.

  Their existence only blemished by one problem.

  The Marquis of Sandshire’s family had many cousins who sprouted off the family tree like weak limbs the gardener had forgotten to prune off the trunk of a strong, prominent oak. They waved about in the wind, broke easily, and served no real purpose. Both Lord Bristol and Lord Darlington were such cousins, weak-willed, thoughtless, and rogues. They ran fast and hot chasing young debutantes and married ladies alike. They drank heavily, gambled to excess, and cheated in horse and phaeton races. Their high-seated, open air, four-wheeled sporting vehicles could be seen racing in Hyde Park from midnight to dawn. These yellow-painted highflyers often carried questionable ladies beside the dashing lords, who squealed in such high-pitched tones that gatherings of park-goers would wince on hearing them.

  Word of their antics reached the ears of the marquis on one rainy afternoon when his gout was acting up. As the exploits of Lord Bristol and Lord Darlington were listed by a prudish aunt like embarrassing stars in a murky sky, the marquis felt his temper rise in huge proportions at every new deed named.

  Great aunt, Lady Whistle sipped her tea as she shot their exploits out through her tight lips like cannon shrapnel.

  “Darlington was accused of cheating at cards again at his club.”

  “Bristol flung himself into the fray and nearly challenged the accusers to a duel.”

  “Darlington has not paid Tattersall’s for his last pair of blacks. The bill is a month overdue.”

  “Bristol brought his mistress, some red-haired fright to Lady Sinclair’s ball.”

  “Darlington and Bristol were barred from the Montgomery soiree after arriving too intoxicated to stand on their own.”

  The droning continued like distant thunder shaking the foundations of the family name. Finally, Lady Whistle stood and said, “I have said my little piece. I’m sure there is much more that doesn’t come to a lady’s ear. You must do something, Sandshire. The entire family is embarrassed and ashamed by those two rascals. I leave it all in your capable hands.”

  And so the Marquis of Sandshire was forced to bellow at his beloved son, Earl of Carlyle later that evening, “Do something! Whatever it takes to calm those two misfits down. I cannot have them behaving in such a fashion all about London. It’s a disgrace.”

  “I can’t do anything with them, father I’ve tried. They only look at me with those sad eyes and frown like pups on a leash. They pretend to have a brain, apologize, promise to change but the moment I leave them they break free and run off again,” the Earl of Carlyle replied.

  “Then I shall have to arrange for a large reduction in their allowance, don’t I give them something?” The marquis asked.

  “I’m sure you do, father. You support everyone. You can’t just threaten for they won’t believe you or they’ll just cheat at cards and get themselves shot.”

  “What they need is a good influence. Someone with manners and style,” the marquis murmured rubbing his bad leg.

  “Don’t look at me,” Carlyle laughed. “I don’t run as wild as that but I’m no saint.”

  “No, I didn’t mean you. I meant women, ladies with a kind heart,” the marquis muttered. “Your mother calmed down my untamed ways and she was brilliant enough to do it without me even realizing it was happening.”

  “Every lady of quality in Town knows the soiled reputation of Darlington and Bristol. They won’t have them,” Carlyle answered frowning.

  “No sane lady would…unless she didn’t know about them,” the marquis said tapping his chin.

  “You intend to bring in two women from the West Indies?” Carlyle smiled.

  “We don’t have to look quite that far but there are two ladies I have heard about…isolated,” Marquis of Sandshire said grinning now. “Yes, I have it! I shall send Viscount Winston to sea.”

  “What?” Carlyle laughed. “How does that solve the problem?”

  “Viscount Winston is a rather good friend of mine very close comrade in my youth and he’s an excellent mapmaker.”

  Carlyle shook his head and dropped into a deep chair where he trimmed the end of another cheroot and lit the end. As gray tobacco smoke rose into the library’s still air, the marquis explained his idea to his son. He made his points and listed the benefits until he noticed his son nodding in agreement.

  “And so you arrange for Captain Phillip Knight of the Clyde Company to sail out to find a new and faster trade route. And when he needs a man known for his charting expertise, you recommend Viscount Winston,” Carlyle said.

  “Exactly so. I shall demand he arranges for the viscount to go. And that offer will leave his two beautiful and sweet nieces needing fast husbands,” the marquis added drinking another whiskey.

  “And these two lovely creatures are left alone and forced to tame the
Darlington and Bristol beasts? Quite unfair to those two innocent ladies isn’t it father?” Carlyle asked fixing his shirt cuff.

  “I suppose it is a ruthless plan but they must have husbands, titled men of some kind and from a proper family. Their father was quite a hero in the war, died on a great bloody battlefield. No, I will oversee everything and you shall assist me.”

  “Assist you?” Carlyle gasped. “Do you mean with these two ladies? What can I do with them?”

  “No, you do nothing with them. But I shall have them all here for a fortnight’s house party and we will scrutinize those two cousins of yours mixing with the Winston ladies. And the gentlemen will know what’s expected. We will keep everything on an even keel. And that busybody, Lady Whistle can pay for prattling her tales back to me. I will have her at my residence to serve as a proper chaperone, see if she can do anything with them,” the marquis ordered. “And Carlyle, don’t be the cynical ass you often are around them both.”

  “Me, cynical?” Carlyle laughed, “Just because I have no good opinion of my cousins or any hope that a lady can fix them…father, I will hold my breath, consume numerous whiskeys, and watch the play. It promises to be most entertaining.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to find a bride after we settle Bristol and Darlington,” the marquis grumbled. “You know an heir is required.”

  “I’ve never known a lady for over a month’s acquaintance who doesn’t disappoint. Either by an unwanted show of jealousy, a trivial mind, or a bland conversation. That doesn’t mean I can’t play a part in your scheme. The more I consider it, the more I appreciate its design. Besides, you can be a cynical and ruthless man when you want something too father.”

  “Of course I can! How do you think I stole your mother away from that duke,” the marquis grinned. “Once a man sees something he wants above anything else in this world there should be nothing that can stop him. Haven’t I raised you to understand that?”

  “Yes, father. I’ve heard that tale about you pretending to be a highwayman and taking the marchioness off that carriage a hundred times. You’re lucky you weren’t shot,” Carlyle grinned.

  “I had to take her. She was getting married that morning! And I was almost shot …if the duke’s hand had been steadier and his anger cooler you wouldn’t be here.”

  “And I thank heaven above that you were a dashing young man,” Carlyle laughed. “Your exploits circulated around the dorm rooms and hallways of every university for many years afterward. When I arrived at Oxford your daring gave me a carte blanche around London and entry into the best circles.”

  “You had entry anyhow. You are the son of a marquis,” Sandshire grinned.

  “Enhanced still higher by your excessive behavior,” Carlyle replied swirling his fresh whiskey.

  “And what do you mean by that one remark? ‘Were a dashing young man’ I still can dash for something I want…if my gout’s not acting up,” the marquis said. “Now go tell your cousins my decision. I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing their dismay.”

  “I’ll relish the telling,” Carlyle winked.

  PART ONE

  The Cousins

  England

  1800’s

  Titles & Trouble

  I

  If there ever was a sweeter lady than the honorable Sara Rose Winston, no one in the small village of Briar Way ever heard of her. Since her father, Viscount Winston had died serving his country, Sara had taken on the role of village patroness, purchasing locally, hiring as much staff as her income could support, and being a parent figure to her younger sister, Audrey.

  Audrey, who lived up to her name’s meaning, nobility, and strength, flourished under her sister’s generous care. Living secluded, carefully nurtured and loved, adored in the village, Audrey knew nothing but blissful happiness.

  When the local tradesmen saw the two Winston ladies walk by they would stop, stare, and smile. There wasn’t a man in the area who had not paused to admire the pair of lovely females, their soft pale blonde hair platted carelessly on their heads, those large innocent gray eyes, the shapely figures, and long legs. That was the immediate attraction but their generous spirit, clever wit, and kind consideration added a luster around them as if they were magical creatures down from above to lighten other people’s dreary lives. There wasn’t a family in need who the Winston sisters had not helped, an ill family they had not visited, or even an injured animal, Audrey had not mended.

  Though women could not inherit property, their father’s brother, now the current Viscount Winston saw to it that his nieces kept all of the income from their deceased father’s smaller landholdings and enterprises. It was an easy matter for him to shift funds, gift his beautiful nieces, and carefully watch out for their safety and futures.

  Until one day, when it was no longer possible.

  In their small manor’s front salon, the two Winston sisters sat primly, smiling at their uncle not noticing the heavy storm clouds in his gray eyes. When they served him tea and told him about the new foals born, the stallion’s leg nursed back to health, the surprisingly fine crop of wheat grown, and the large harvest of apples from the back orchards, they did not detect the heavy frown…not at first.

  “Sara, Audrey, I have news that can no longer wait,” Viscount Winston said too sternly and both sisters turned to their uncle in surprise.

  “Yes, uncle. Sorry, we are rambling on about the details of Summer Garden, what’s the matter?” Sara asked glancing at Audrey with a reassuring smile.

  Sure that it was nothing that important, Audrey returned her sister’s smile, reached over and took her uncle’s hand, “What news, dear uncle?”

  “I must go back to sea,” he huffed. As Sara began to protest, he held up his weathered hand and shook his whiskered face. “Don’t speak. You both must hear everything.”

  The Winston ladies exchanged worried glances and nodded.

  “The ships of the Clan Line and the Clyde Company have joined on a new trade route adventure where charting and mapping details will be required. Captain Phillip Knight has requested my presence as I am somewhat known in university circles as a master mapmaker. He is sailing a full-rigged clipper from Portsmouth next month. He’s bound for Madras and China, around the Cape of Good Hope to Penang and Malacca then hoping to arrive at Whampoa Anchorage. Homeward bound he will sail the Second Bar, reach St Helena, and arrive at Long Reach. Any discoveries or deviations from that must be mapped and recorded.”

  “It sounds utterly thrilling! I wish I could go with you,” Audrey grinned. “I must look up all of those places on a map and chart your course as you travel.”

  Sara went silent. Then she asked softly, “What is the duration of such a journey?”

  “We are anticipating eight months but possibly ten, perhaps a year,” Viscount Winston said frowning. Rubbing his whiskered jaw he glanced at each one of them, admired their lovely manners, the sweet personalities, and their beautiful faces.

  “It sounds dangerous,” Sara said, “I have read books about the Cape of Good Hope, it’s known for its fierce storms and treacherous seas.”

  “It must be wildly dangerous,” Audrey added. “You must take care, uncle.”

  “You don’t take care darling girl, not on a three-deck clipper with a forty-two-foot beam, carrying a rich cargo of tea, lumber, silk, spices, mail, and opium,” the viscount said roughly. “There are hazardous dangers awaiting us not only from storms but also piracy, inspired by privateering, and smuggling.”

  “Won’t you have protection?” Sara asked breathlessly.

  “Twenty-six 18-pounder guns, and twelve 18-pounder carronades, plus riflemen, soldiers,” Viscount Winston said strongly.

  Sara and Audrey looked into each other’s light gray eyes with worry.

  “It sounds profitable but highly dangerous. Dear uncle, must you go?” Audrey asked.

  “I’ll be on a magnificent clipper, full sail, sharp-lined and built for speed. We can outrun most pirates, we will have a wide spr
ead of canvas,” their uncle said trying to sound reasonable. “And yes, I must go, I want to go, to breathe that sea air again, locate new places, paint new trails on canvas.”

  “And how may we help, uncle? You said you had news that can no longer wait. And you sounded so stern about it. How can Audrey and I assist you?” Sara asked.

  “Yes! We must do something, are there details we might watch for you, people who need instruction, animals that require proper care? I’m very good at exercising horses no matter how strong and wild they are,” Audrey offered. “We can do many things for you, dear Uncle Winston. Just ask us, anything and we will gladly comply.”

  “Good. I am relieved to hear your offer so sweetly given. And you, Sara, will you comply with my needs?” The viscount asked looking into the crackling fireplace.

  “Yes,” Sara answered without hesitation. “Always. We owe you our livelihood, you have been like a father to us, you are our legal guardian. We would do anything for you.”

  “Fine. Brilliant. I never doubted your cooperation. Then you must realize that this voyage is not only dangerous for me but for both of you, if I meet my end, become ill in some foreign port or drift down to Davy Jones’ Locker in a storm. Therefore,” he rushed seeing their startled expressions, “I have arranged for an opportunity for each of you. The chance for two fine marriages.”

  “Marriages?” The two Winston sisters spoke together.

  “Yes, certainly. You must be protected. Sara, you and I have discussed this before, where would you both be without me? And I am sorry that I could not escort you to London, host coming out balls for you both but time got away from me as it does to old men. And now I must leave and before I go, you must have the prearrangement and promise sacredly given that both of you will soon be safely married,” the viscount said flatly.

 

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