The Beastly Earl

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The Beastly Earl Page 1

by Monica Burns




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  More Sensual Romance

  Acknowledgements

  Author Notes

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Special Preview The Rogue's Offer

  Chapter 2

  Other Titles Links

  About Monica

  Connect With Monica

  The Beastly Earl

  By

  Monica Burns

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  This digital book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This digital book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].

  Copyright ©2019 by Kathi B. Scearce

  ISBN 978-1-948505-07-9

  Cover Design: Viviana Izzo, Enchantress Design & Promo

  Copyeditor: Debbie Sansom-Fitts

  Beta Reader: Laura Polito McEleney

  Kathi B. Scearce DBA Monica Burns - Maroli SP Imprints

  P.O. Box 75072

  Richmond, VA 23236

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Publishing History

  978-1-948505-07-9 / Digital 1.0 edition / December 2019

  978-1-948505-06-2 / Print 1.0 Edition / January 2019

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  Acknowledgements

  As always a shout out of gratitude to Viviana Izzo, Enchantress Design and Promo for an extraordinary cover. Thank you for giving me cheese to go with my whine.

  Affection and gratitude for the ever wonderful Debbie Sansom-Fitts. Thank you for always pointing out the error of my ways when it comes to edits. You are awesome and amazing!

  A huge hug and thank you to Laura Polito McEleney. I want to be you when I come back in my next life! Thank you for always listening and offering feedback gently. You know how important honest feedback is to me.

  Hugs to Kris Bloom for being an awesome beta reader and a thank you to Debbie Hoopes for catching typos while doing a beta read!

  To all my readers. As hard as my journey is sometimes, you make it a wonderful experience! Thank you for all your support!

  Author Notes

  Gaelic Terms

  The Gaelic terms included in this

  work are derived from different sources, including

  Outlander Wiki and Dwelly's great Scots Gaelic - English dictionary,

  as well as mythology resources.

  bean nighe - a Scottish folklore spirit similar to the Irish Banshee

  ceilidh - a social event with dancing and drinking

  mo leannan - sweetheart

  mo ghràdh - “my beloved” or “my love”

  sidhe - Scottish fairy

  Prosthetics

  Prosthetics have been in existence for thousands of years. There have been archeological finds of feet, toes, and legs composed of wood, and the description of Ewan's artificial limb is that of a prosthetic steel hand and arm that was in use starting around 1840.

  During my research I found pictures of soldiers learning how to write with a prosthetic hand, and Ewan's artificial limb was in use until 1910 and possibly beyond that. Based on my research, it seemed reasonable to assume that Ewan's appendage would allow him some flexibility when it came to general tasks. However, the various prosthetics I researched did not look comfortable.

  As to Ewan's skin being rubbed raw inside the leather cup, I based that description off my own experience. I sit in my recliner at least 15-17 hours a day. My elbow rests constantly on the arm of my recliner where the material, despite its smoothness creates what some refer to as rug burns. It therefore seemed logical that Ewan would have a similar problem of discomfort.

  You can find an image of the model I used for describing Ewan's arm at https://monicaburns.net/RRS5-MetalHand

  The Black Watch

  The Black Watch Regiment saw action in numerous campaigns in the Middle East during the 1880s and 1890s. However, the regiment did not have a role in the 1898 campaign during the Anglo-Egyptian conquest of the Sudan. It was the North Staffordshire Regiment that was with Herbert Kitchener, Sirdar of the Egyptian army in that campaign. Creative license was taken regarding the Black Watch Regiment’s participation in the 1898 campaign to accommodate timelines within the Reckless Rockwoods series and Ewan and Louisa’s story itself.

  Of historical note: For almost 300 years, The Black Watch has been at the heart of major conflicts that have shaped world history. The regiment has a history of service that emphasizes the qualities of honor, gallantry, and devoted service to King, Queen, and country. In the words of a 19th century Black Watch historian, every member of the Highlander Regiment

  “…feels that his conduct is the subject of observation and that, independently of his duty, as one member of a systematic whole he has a separate and individual reputation to sustain, which will be reflected on his family and district or glen.” —James Browne, Black Watch historian, 1851

  That statement is summed up by the Black Watch Regiment’s motto “Nemo me impune lacessit, translated from Latin means "No One Provokes Me With Impunity.” In all their campaigns and battles, including Fontenoy, in the battle of Fallujah in Ticonderoga, Waterloo, Alamein, and two World Wars, the Black Watch regiment has surmounted formidable odds time after time. Their significant contribution to every bloody, crucial campaign they’ve been a part of has secured their place in history. The regiment’s courage and sacrifice exemplify the values described so eloquently in Browne's words. These noble standards explain why those affiliated with The Black Watch take such great pride in the regiment. Honor, duty, and sacrifice are qualities everyone should ascribe to.

  The Speerin

  The 'Speerin' is an old Scottish tradition where the prospective groom asks a father for his daughter's hand in marriage. If the future-son-law completes a series of trials and tasks requested by the woman's father, approval is g
iven. The tests were a way to judge the merit of the man requesting the privilege of marrying the father's daughter.

  In Ewan's case, his test wasn’t actually a requirement in proposing marriage to Louisa. As a widow, she was in control of own affairs and was the decision-maker in regards to Ewan's proposal of marriage. The 'Speerin' in this instance was Ewan's way of showing Louisa how much he loved her, as well as proving to her family that he was worthy of being her husband.

  According to the Dictionary of Scots Language, the term was originally spelled as "speirin." There are, or were, several different usages of the word, including to make or request of a father his daughter's hand in marriage. The word appears to have changed in spelling to Speerin at least as early as 1869, but I was unable to ascertain the precise period when the spelling changed. My guess is that with all language, the spelling changed based on the individual(s) using it. The tradition is still followed today.

  Prologue

  Westbrook Farms

  May 1897

  The heat from the blaze burned her cheeks as if she’d stayed out in the sun too long. Flames licked the manor’s façade and had already begun to dance behind the black clouds of smoke billowing out of the nursery’s windows. The sight sent a wave of terror through Louisa unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

  “Oh dear God, Charlie. Willie.” Her anguished cry echoed loudly in her ears, but the pandemonium surrounding her ensured no one heard her.

  Cries went up into the air as someone pointed toward the side of the house that wasn’t on fire. She jerked her head toward the sound and saw her nephew, Jamie, quickly walking toward where she, Constance, and Helen stood with the servants who had fled the fire. Following close behind Jamie was Theo. Imogene drew up the rear carrying a small bundle in her arms. Helen and Constance both cried out with joy and ran toward the children.

  Frantically, she looked past the children searching for more figures hurrying toward them, but there was only the terrifying blackness of the night. For what seemed an eternity, only darkness filled her vision until Nanny emerged from the shadows carrying Charlie in her arms. A cry of relief flew past her lips as she met the older woman halfway to pull her oldest son into her arms. He was crying wildly and choked her as he flung his small arms around her neck.

  Tears flowed down her cheeks as she kissed her son repeatedly and examined him for any burns. Relieved to find him unharmed, the emotion evaporated as she turned back toward the empty shadows. Inside her chest, her heart pounded a fierce beat not unlike a racehorse’s hooves hitting the dirt as it ran. Charlie still in her arms, she saw a shadowy figure moving into the light. The sight of Aunt Matilda hurrying toward them with Tilly cradled close to her breast made Helen cry out with happiness. Her sister-in-law ran forward with an outstretched arm to pull her daughter into her arms as she kept Theo close to her side.

  Another cry filled the air, and she jerked her gaze back toward the dark side of the house to see a footman hurrying toward them with Braxton in his arms. The terror and fear gripping her muscles made her tighten her grip on Charlie as the heat of the fire reached out to taunt her as if it was laughing at her fear.

  “Angus!” Helen cried out in relief as footman emerged from the darkness with her son in his arms.

  All the children were sobbing in fear, and the sound scraped across her senses as if someone were slicing into her with a sharp knife. Dear God, where were Willie and Devin? The fear slithering through her closed off her throat until it became difficult to breathe. Tears blurred her vision as she buried her face in Charlie’s hair and prayed as she’d never done before in her life. This time it was Aunt Matilda who cried out as two more footmen rounded the house with children in their arms.

  “There! Willie. Alma. Saints be praised,” Aunt Matilda exclaimed in loud relief.

  With a cry of joy, Louisa hurried forward with Charlie still pressed tightly against her chest to pull Willie close with her free arm. Tears of relief streamed down her cheeks as she clutched both of her children close. The boys’ tears wet the thin wrap of her night robe, and she tried to soothe them as they clung to her with a desperate terror she was feeling too. Suddenly a feral scream pierced the night.

  The blood-curdling cry sent an invisible, icy hand brushing over her back. She turned with a jerk to stare in horror at the façade of her home burning brightly in the darkness. Another dreadful shriek echoed out into the night. It repeated itself until it became one horrifying continuous scream filling the air. It was the cry of a wounded animal in agony. Terror swept through her as the scream ended abruptly as a split-second later a loud crash filled the air. The violent noise made her jump as flames shattered the nursery windows and shot out of the empty frames to illuminate the dark night. The fire had now reached the main entryway and engulfed one half of the manor.

  Another wild scream echoed from the second story combined with male shouts of panic. The sounds pulled a loud gasp from the small crowd staring at the burning building. It was a collective breath of horror that died away into silence until the only thing filling the air was the roar of the fire, the soft sound of sobbing children, and the distant clanging of bells from a fire brigade that was already too late.

  Indistinguishable male shouts of helpless anger and fear poured out of the burning house. The panic in the male voices sent a sudden stillness through her as she turned her head to account for every child. They were all here. That only left the men and…

  “Patience, where is Patience?” she cried out as her gaze searched the people surrounding her. Constance took up her cry as Aunt Matilda’s face became ashen.

  Without hesitating, Louisa kissed her boys’ cheeks and whispered reassurances she would return as she gave each of them into the arms of a maid and footman. Spurred by the fear her aunt appeared ready to collapse, she hurried to Aunt Matilda’s side. The woman swayed on her feet, and Louisa quickly wrapped her arm around her aunt to keep her from falling to the ground.

  “Constance!” she called out with a quick glance behind her. In seconds, her older sister was on the other side of their aunt to help ensure the older woman remained standing. As Louisa touched her aunt’s arm, the older woman began to tremble and it shot a bolt of dread through her.

  “Patience,” her aunt rasped softly. “She and Caleb stayed behind tae ensure the children were safe.”

  “Oh, dear God,” she whispered as she met the matriarch’s horrified gaze and an image of Patience’s happy smile filled her mind.

  A barely audible cry of horror escaped her aunt, before a violent tremor pulsated out of her. It heightened Louisa’s fear as she watched the Scotswoman close her eyes. The sudden look of stark grief accentuating the gray pallor of her aunt’s face made her go rigid. The an dara sealladh. Aunt Matilda had seen something that had rocked her to the core.

  Another image of Patience flashed before her eyes before Caleb’s somber features filled her head. It wasn’t possible. She refused to believe it. The Rockwoods always rose to a challenge. They never accepted defeat. She couldn’t have lost both of her siblings in one single moment in time.

  In the next breath, guilt made her tremble. Her first thought had been for her brother and sister’s safety, not Devin’s. She closed her eyes as she remembered the last words she’d screamed at her husband. They’d been terrible words. Startled by Constance’s unexpected, tight grip on the arm she’d braced against her aunt’s back, Louisa jerked her gaze toward her sister. Tears shimmered in her older sister’s eyes as she looked at Louisa. The an dara sealladh. The family gift had shown Constance something too.

  “What? What have you seen, Constance?”

  A shout went up from people surrounding her before she could press her sister for an answer. She turned her head toward the house and saw a small party of men moving in the shadows. Julian was the first one she recognized. When she saw Patience in his arms, she drew in a breath of relief. Lucien, Percy, and Sebastian followed close behind their brother-in-law. Soot covered their
faces, but it didn’t hide the dark, grim emotion hardening their faces.

  Constance and Helen both released quiet sobs of relief as they ran into the arms of their husbands. She glanced briefly at Julian laying Patience on the grass with Percy kneeling at her side then turned her attention back to the darkness. The fire was spreading quickly now, and the shadows that had shrouded the side of the house were giving way to the light of the blaze.

  A wave of dread swept through her as she frantically looked past Sebastian searching for Devin and Caleb. When they didn’t stride into view, Aunt Matilda grabbed Louisa’s hand.

  “It will be all right, my darling lass.”

  The quiet words of sorrow wrapped around Louisa’s body like a vicious band of metal. Fear and guilt engulfed her with the same strength and power as the fire consuming her and Devin’s home. Tugging free of her aunt’s hold, she leapt toward her eldest brother and grabbed his arm.

  “Where are they? Where’s Caleb? Devin?”

  Her demands for an answer were met by silence as Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment then shook his head. She took several quick steps back from her oldest brother as shock pounded its way into every cell of her body. She whirled around to face the manor and the fire consuming it. The flames had now begun to spread to the opposite side of the house. The sting of guilt and pain lashed at her as if someone were striking her with a whip. Without thinking, she rushed toward the front door and the flames shooting out into the night. She barely heard the shouts and cries of fear behind her as she raced toward the burning house. The fire roared in her ears like an angry animal as a strong hand yanked her to a halt.

  “Stop, Louisa.” Sebastian’s voice was harsh and commanding. As she stared up at him, her brother’s face darkened with a deep sorrow. “There’s nothing more we can do. Caleb. Devin. They’re gone. Both of them.”

 

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