His Majesty’s Hounds - Book 17
Sweet and Clean Regency Romance
Restoring the Earl’s Honour
Arietta Richmond
Dreamstone Publishing © 2019
www.dreamstonepublishing.com
Copyright © 2019 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond,
All rights reserved.
No parts of this work may be copied without the author’s permission.
ISBN-13: 978-1-925165-12-8
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organisations, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Dedication
For everyone who had the grace to be patient while this book, and every other book that I have written, was coming into existence, who provided cups of tea, and food, when the writing would not let me go, and endured countless times being asked for opinions.
For the readers who inspire me to continue writing, by buying my books! Especially for those of you who have taken the time to email me, or to leave reviews, and tell me what you love about these books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening, I promise to write more about your favourite characters.
For my growing team of beta readers and advance reviewers – it’s thanks to you that others can enjoy these books in the best presentation possible!
And for all the writers of Regency Historical Romance, whose books I read, who inspired me to write in this fascinating period.
Table of Contents
Restoring the Earl’s Honour
Disclaimer
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
Here is your preview of Claiming the Heart of a Duke
Chapter One
Books in the ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ Series
Books in ‘The Derbyshire Set’
Regency Collections with Other Authors
Books in the Nettlefold Chronicles
Other Books from Dreamstone Publishing
Books by Arietta Richmond
His Majesty’s Hounds
Claiming the Heart of a Duke
Intriguing the Viscount
Giving a Heart of Lace
From Soldier Spy to Lord (contains the first three books in one volume)
Being Lady Harriet’s Hero
Enchanting the Duke
Redeeming the Marquess
Finding the Duke’s Heir
Winning the Merchant Earl
Healing Lord Barton
Kissing the Duke of Hearts
Loving the Bitter Baron
Falling for the Earl
Rescuing the Countess
Betting on a Lady’s Heart
Attracting the Spymaster
Courting a Spinster for Christmas
Restoring the Earl’s Honour
The Regency Scandals Series
The Gift of a Christmas Scandal
Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love (coming soon)
Christmas with That Duke (coming soon)
The Nettlefold Chronicles
The Duke and the Spinster
To Dance with the Dangerous Duke
A Duke in Autumn (coming soon)
A Christmas Bride for the Duke (coming soon)
A Duke’s Daughters – The Elbury Bouquet
A Spinster for a Spy (Lily) (coming soon)
A Vixen for a Viscount (Hyacinth) (coming soon)
A Bluestocking for a Baron (Rose) (coming soon)
A Diamond for a Duke (Camellia) (coming soon)
A Minx for a Merchant (Primrose) (coming soon)
An Enchantress for an Earl (Violet) (coming soon)
A Maiden for a Marquess (Iris) (coming soon)
A Heart for an Heir (Thorne) (coming soon)
The Derbyshire Set
A Gift of Love (Prequel short story)
A Devil’s Bargain (Prequel short story - coming soon)
The Earl’s Unexpected Bride
The Captain’s Compromised Heiress
The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair
The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 1
(contains the first three books in a single volume.)
The Count’s Impetuous Seduction
The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption
The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress
The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 2
(contains the second three books in a single volume.)
A Remembered Face (Bonus short story – coming soon)
The Marchioness’ Second Chance
A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion (coming soon)
Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish
The Duke’s Improper Love (coming soon)
Other Books
The Scottish Governess (coming soon)
The Earl’s Reluctant Fiancée (coming soon)
The Crew of the Seadragon’s Soul Series,
(coming soon - a set of 10 linked novels)
Chapter One
Drummond St. John had been called many things in his life, in recent years mostly ‘Drumm’ or ‘Sin’ – a name that came from the way people often said St. John – as if it was ‘sinjun’. But the name he carried now was one he had never expected to bear. The Earl of Hungerwood.
The wind blew his dark hair about, despite the black ribbon that tied it, and the sail bellied out above him as the ship ran before the wind, carrying him back to England, to the home he had never expected to see again. That both his father and brother were dead still seemed improbable – he had seen death, more than enough for a lifetime, this past few years, yet somehow it still felt like something that touched others, not those of his blood. But the letter which had reached him in Georgetown, rather battered after months in transit, had been quite clear. Unbeknownst to him, his father had died, of an apoplexy, three years gone. His brother Hugh had become the Earl, stepping into the role he had been trained for. But now, near nine months ago, Hugh had found death too - yet another duel.
It was, Sin thought to himself, perhaps something he should have expected. Hugh had always been fiery, and fast to call a man out for small offences, or to stand second for others. Truly, it had been, in some ways, only a matter of time before he met his death. But Sin had hoped… hoped that Hugh might calm as the years passed, that Sin’s sacrifice for him, for the family name, might prove worthwhile.
It seemed not. And now, it all fell to Sin, a heavy weight to bear – not only the dishonour he had shouldered near six years before, to allow Hugh to remain acceptable in the eyes of society, but this new dishonour to the name – the dishonour brought about by the fact that Hugh’s death had been in a most illegal duel, a duel not about any high minded or important matter. No, the duel that had taken his brother’s life had been tawdry – a duel about nothing more than the favours of an opera singer, an actress of little renown.
Bitterness soured his pleasure in the wind, in the sea. What he had thou
ght would be his life had now been stolen from him, yet again, by his feckless brother’s actions. All he had now was a name and a title stained with dishonour, estates likely groaning under debt, and all of the responsibility that came with it. It seemed likely that, once they docked in England, he might never set foot on a ship’s deck again.
~~~~~
“Daniel is five now Marion – it is time that he met other boys of his station, that Society was made most clearly aware of his status as my heir. I do not want any of the gossip to survive long enough to taint his experience of life.”
Marion Stafford, Countess of Scartwick, looked at her father-in-law sadly. She had known that this day was coming, that she could not hide at Windemere Towers forever. She no longer feared appearing in society, but she did not, in any way, enjoy it.
“Must we go to London for this Season? Can we not wait another year?”
The Duke shook his head – his expression was gentle – he fully understood Marion’s hesitation, for her experience of society had not been kind. She had not been born to it, and, whilst his son had loved her unstintingly, the very fact of their different stations in life had made her every day difficult. In the end, that difference had brought about the duel in which Martin had been killed, not long after his clandestine wedding to Marion.
“I believe that we must. Whilst I would never seek to dim his childish enthusiasm for the world, he must begin to learn to deal with the ton, he must begin to make friends who will support him, towards the day when he is no longer the Earl of Scartwick, when, upon my death, he becomes the Duke of Windemere.”
“Please, do not speak of your death! I pray that you have many more years with us to enjoy, that such a burden does not fall upon Daniel’s shoulders before he is ready.”
“I fully intend to be here for many more years. But that does not change my desire to see him well prepared.”
Marion sighed. “If we must. I admit that my hesitation is for myself, more than for Daniel – there are those amongst the ton I still do not wish to ever see again.”
“I assure you, my dear girl, that I will not allow them to disparage you in any way. It is time that you began to have a life for yourself again, not overshadowed by grief and fear, and not only dedicated to your son.”
Marion shivered a little at his words, the memory of fear rising in her. But he was, she had to admit, correct. She should not let the actions of young fools, near six years past, rule her life forever, should not let it steal joy and peace from her heart.
“I am not sure that I know how to do that, how to let go of the past that much. But I will try, because you are right.”
“Thank you, Marion. I am sure that you will not regret this. I would hope that you will find love again in your life, and the happiness it brings. My own experience proves to me that it is more than possible.”
Marion nodded, knowing that he spoke the truth – for his second marriage had brought him much joy, as had her own mother’s second marriage. If she found half so much happiness again in her life, she would count herself beyond lucky. But to find such happiness would mean meeting men, would mean courting. And of that, she was afraid. For, when going about in society, she would inevitably meet those who had made her life a misery before. And now that she was acknowledged the Countess, now that she had wealth and position, some might say influence and power, some of those same men might seek her hand. If they did, she would deny them.
She pushed her thoughts away from the past, and allowed the conversation to move on to other things, simple things, like new toys for Daniel, and new clothes – for, like most children, his ability to destroy clothing was extreme.
But she would, she knew, need to think about it all again, would need to prepare herself for what she would face in London, so that she could carry herself with grace and dignity, no matter what happened. At least she could be sure that she would not ever have to face the man whose blade had taken Martin’s life, or the man who had stood second to him, for the former had fled the country, taking up a commission, and been killed at Waterloo, and the latter had also gone, to the Americas she believed. But the others… those, she would have to be polite to, no matter what she wished to do, in her heart.
~~~~~
When Sin stepped onto the Portsmouth docks, it was a chill grey day in January 1819, with a light snow drifting from the sky, driven into muddied drifts by a sharp wind. The contrast to the West Indies was stark, and he shivered, long unused to the English chill. The world rolled beneath his feet, as his mind caught up with the fact that he was on land again.
Before they had docked, he had cleaned up, as best he could with the last of the fresh water on board, and tidied himself into a state where he had some hope of being treated as a nobleman. It was a poor echo of how he should appear, but it was enough to allow the quality choice, the Wind’s Rest Inn, to rent him a small suite of rooms – or perhaps it was simply the gold in his hand that made that happen.
But once he had luxuriated in a warm bath, shaved, tied back his now clean hair, and then spent yet more of his gold on clothes of good quality and current fashion, the Innkeeper became most obsequious.
He found it bitterly, darkly amusing that appearance mattered so much. Surely, honour and integrity should mean more – but no, his brother had proved that untrue, over and over.
He stayed there another day, quietly discovering the gossip from London, and attempting to find his bearings in the complex tangle of society’s activities, after so many years away – he did not wish to step into the bear-pit that was the ton without at least some idea of who currently held power! The bitter thought rose in him, that perhaps it would not matter – if they all gave him the cut direct, then dealing with society would not, at least at first, be required.
The next day, in a hired carriage with his meagre trunk of possessions, he set off for London. He assumed that his mother and sister would be there, at the townhouse, but, if they were not, then he would see the family bankers and man of business, then travel on to Hungerwood Chase. He was not, truth to tell, looking forward to seeing his remaining family at all. His mother, most likely, would immediately inform him that he should marry, and get an heir, for the sake of his duty to the title – an idea which left him utterly cold. The women of the ton were not his picture of a woman he would want to spend his life with – once, he might have seen them so, but no more. He did not want to deal with any of it.
But he no longer had a choice.
Chapter Two
When Sin finally arrived outside Saint House, he was relieved to see that the knocker was on the door. It seemed that his family were in residence. A street urchin rushed up to hold the horses, while the coachman set about unloading Sin’s meagre possessions, and Sin flipped the boy a coin for his trouble.
As he stood at the top of the front steps, staring at the door before him, he felt a moment of fear greater than any he had felt in his years as a privateer. He pushed it aside – there was no room in his life for fear, if he was to restore the family honour. He lifted the knocker, and let it fall. The sound echoed through the marble entrance hall so strongly that, even through the closed door, he could hear it. That did not bode well – the more empty a space, the more it echoed. The sound suggested a lack of furniture, which, itself, suggested straightened funds.
Footsteps added to the echoes, then the door creaked open. Grey-green eyes, in a lined and aged face, considered him – blankly for a moment, then with dawning recognition. Sin allowed himself to smile.
“M… my Lord?”
“Yes, Foster, it’s me. The letter eventually found me, and I have returned. Is my mother in?”
“Yes, my Lord, and most glad she will be to see you, if I may say so.”
The aging butler stepped back to allow Sin to enter the house, a smile now wreathing his face, and waved a footman past him to collect the luggage which had been piled at the bottom of the steps.
“One moment – now that I know the family i
s in residence, I must pay off the coachman.”
The waiting coachman grinned when Sin reached the bottom of the stairs, and dropped more than the agreed price into his hand.
“Thank ye, milord.”
He sketched an awkward bow, and turned back to his carriage. Sin smiled again – one small thing at a time, he would make certain that his reputation was no further tarnished.
Once inside, he was shown to the small family parlour, where, he was informed, his mother spent much of her time. He studied the house around him – somehow it seemed smaller than it had been in his memory, and more wear was obvious. There was, indeed, less furniture than there had been when he had left, and fewer paintings on the walls. He wondered how deep the hole in the family finances was – for he had returned with a sizeable fortune, garnered from his share of the privateer’s plunder – but would it be enough?
He pushed that worry aside, for now.
Foster tapped on the parlour door, and his mother’s voice called for him to enter. She sounded almost frail, and that shocked Sin – in his imagination, his mother had not aged – now he realised that, of course, she would have done so, and also most likely suffered from the stress of his father’s and brother’s deaths.
Foster opened the door, and announced, in his most imposing voice, “Lord Hungerwood!”
As Sin stepped past him into the room, there was a startled gasp, and a most unladylike squeal – which emanated from his sister, who was seated beside his mother on the couch. Faith lost no time in leaping to her feet and rushing to fling her arms around him. It was abundantly clear that she was no longer a gangly thirteen-year-old.
“Drummond! I was beginning to wonder if you would ever return!”
As he untangled himself from Faith’s enthusiastic greeting, his mother’s voice came to him – shaky, and almost uncertain.
“And I was beginning to wonder if you were still alive, or if I had lost another son. You did not write. But I am beyond glad to see you here, alive, and apparently well. Could you not have sent a note warning us, once your ship docked? The shock when Foster announced you quite gave me palpitations!”
Restoring the Earl's Honour: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 17) Page 1
