by Rose Pearson
Lord Thornhill held Oliver’s gaze. “That may be so, but to speak aloud of what has occurred will only reveal the depths of my shame to all of society.” He bit his lip and then glanced at Lord Havisham. “You say only one other gentleman is aware of what occurred?”
“Lord Davidson,” Lord Havisham said without hesitation. “Yes, I believe so.” He looked towards Oliver, who nodded, feeling a trifle confused. He had expected Lord Thornhill to do everything he could to shame and disgrace him for what he had done, but now it seemed Lord Thornhill was going to do all he could to hide Oliver’s misdemeanors from the world.
“Then I shall speak to him,” Lord Thornhill grated, turning back towards Oliver. “Although I must demand you do as you have stated, Lord Montague. I do not wish to see you within society for some time.”
Oliver nodded, a wave of relief crashing over him. This was not at all what he had expected, given Lord Thornhill was known to be a hard man. “But of course.”
Lord Thornhill rose to his feet, his expression still black with anger. “I will not say I appreciate your honesty, Lord Montague,” he muttered, turning away from Oliver. “But I will state it has surprised me. Although I cannot believe you truly have an affection for a lady of the ton.” He threw a dark glance towards Oliver, who rose to his feet also. “You simply did not wish Lord Davidson to hold this over you, I think.”
“I care very deeply for her,” Oliver replied with a great deal of firmness in his voice. “In fact, Lord Thornhill, I consider myself in love with her. I believe I have lost her entirely, however, given just how cruelly I have treated her, but I will never regret allowing my heart to open towards her. She has shown me what courage is, Lord Thornhill. She has endured a good deal of mockery from the ton, has seen their cruelty and their harshness, and has shown me my part in it. I have been forced to look at my own character and to see my failings there, staring back starkly at me.” He shook his head, thinking of just how much he cared for Lady Amelia when he knew he was not worthy of her. “I love her deeply, Lord Thornhill, and will carry her within my heart for the rest of my days.”
Just as Lord Thornhill was about to open his mouth, just as he was about to say something in response, a door to Oliver’s left swung open. He had not even noticed the door before but, turning towards it, he was utterly astonished to see Lady Amelia now stood framed in the doorway. Her eyes were fixed on his, her face pale but a beautiful smile beginning to spread across her face.
“You have proven your love for me, Lord Montague,” she whispered, her voice sounding like a thunderclap. “I did not want to believe it, I did not want to trust you, but now I see your heart is true.”
He blinked rapidly, overcome with astonishment. Lady Amelia began to walk towards him slowly, her limp barely noticeable. She held her hands out to him, and it was all Oliver could do to lift his own, hardly able to believe it was she who now stood before him.
“You—you heard everything?” he asked hoarsely, not even noticing Mrs. Peters nor Lady Smithton walking into the room behind Lady Amelia. “I did not know you would be there.”
She smiled up at him, her eyes glistening with tears. “Nor did I know you would be present,” she answered, her fingers twining with his. “I felt such fear in reading your letter. I let myself believe it was just another ploy to win this bet, but now that I have heard you speak with such honesty to Lord Thornhill, I know now every word you wrote was the truth.” A slight blush caught her cheeks. “You will not be angry with me for eavesdropping, I hope?”
Oliver could not speak, such was the lump in his throat. Looking down into Lady Amelia’s face, he felt the desire to crush her against him grow steadily within him as though this would prove to him she was, in fact, truly standing before him.
“I think we shall retire to the parlor,” Lady Smithton said, interrupting the otherwise silent room. “Lord Havisham, are you escorting Lord Thornhill to the door?”
In a few minutes, the room had emptied itself of Mrs. Peters, Lady Smithton, Lord Havisham, and Lord Thornhill, leaving Oliver standing alone with Lady Amelia. His heart began to race, his thoughts tumbling over each other as he fought to find the words to say.
And then, Lady Amelia leaned into him, her head resting on his chest and her hands loosening from his. There seemed to be nothing to say for the present moment, for Oliver could only wrap his arms about her waist and hold her close, feeling as though finally, in the midst of his darkness, there had come a small but beautiful light. Light that was none other than Lady Amelia.
Epilogue
Amelia had never been this close to a gentleman before and yet, wrapped in Lord Montague’s arms, it felt as though this was the only place she was meant to be. Hearing everything Lord Montague had said to Lord Thornhill had brought her out of her dark misery and into a fresh and wonderful hope that had filled her entire being until she had been quite unable to stay away from him any longer. Upon hearing his declaration of love, she had flung open the door and fixed her eyes upon his.
The surge of happiness that now ran through her chased every little bit of doubt and fear away. Lord Montague loved her. She loved him. He had turned his back on his previous way of living and had, instead, chosen to be an honest gentleman. He had given up everything to protect her, and she loved him all the more for it.
“I am not worthy of you, Amelia.”
His voice was muffled, his words whispered into the nape of her neck.
“You have shown me your words and your devotion to me are true,” she whispered back, closing her eyes as she wound her arms about his neck. “You told Lord Thornhill the truth so that Lord Davidson would have no hold upon you. You chose to turn your back on me so that I would not do as Lord Davidson had wagered I might.” Opening her eyes, she lifted her gaze to his, seeing just how close his face was now to hers and feeling a thrill of anticipation run up her spine. “But how can I pretend I do not have a love for you when it has already taken over me?”
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. “The bet will not be won,” he whispered, gently. “I will tell all and sundry I confessed my love to you at the first. Therefore, Lord Davidson will not win his wager, and he shall have no hold over me any longer.” Reaching down, he brushed his hand over her cheek before letting his fingers, with infinite gentleness, twine through her hair. “Although I fear, Lady Amelia, I must return to my estate and not think of returning to London for some years.”
She laughed up at him, her heart lifting all the more. “You cannot think I will regret leaving London?” she asked him, teasingly. “The ton will not be something I ache to return to, Lord Montague, for it has never been my friend.”
“No?”
“No,” she replied, looking up into his eyes and feeling her whole being tingle with excited anticipation. “The only thing I have ached for is you, Lord Montague. You have shown me more kindness than any other of my acquaintance. You defended me. You have protected me. And now, I know you have done it all because of the love you have for me. I trust your words. I trust your heart. I have set the past behind me, knowing your regret for what you have done is real.”
His hands dropped to her waist again, pulling her even closer than before.
“You are more than I have ever deserved,” he breathed, his head lowering slowly. “Your kindness, your forgiveness, and your courage overwhelm me, my love.” He paused for a moment as though he were summoning up the courage to speak honestly. “I want you as my wife, Amelia. I ask you to be my bride and to share my days with me, forever.” His lips brushed hers, sending a spiral of heat right through her. “What do you say, my love? Can you give me not only your heart, but also your hand?”
She did not hesitate, happiness enveloping her completely. The past was forgotten already, broken down by the words she had heard him speak. There was no doubt left lingering in her mind, no fears capturing her heart. All that remained was her love for Lord Montague, a love which she knew was fully returned. Yes, he had made
mistakes, but she would not linger on those, not when her future with him was now brighter than ever before.
“I will give you everything,” she replied, reaching up to capture his face with her hands so that she might look intently into his eyes. “I love you desperately, Lord Montague. Yes, I will be your wife.”
His smile spread across his face, making her laugh with joy. Then, his lips sought hers once more in a long, languorous kiss that sent ripples all through her, whilst her heart filled with more happiness than she thought it could contain. Love had captured their hearts in a most unexpected fashion, but it had tied them together for the rest of their days. Amelia could hardly wait for their life together to begin.
Have you read the Books 1-3 in the Spinsters Guild series?
A New Beginning
The Disgraced Bride
A Gentleman’s Revenge
My Dear Reader
Thank you for reading and supporting my books! I hope this story brought you some escape from the real world into the always captivating Regency world. A good story, especially one with a happy ending, just brightens your day and makes you feel good! If you enjoyed the book, would you leave a review on Amazon? Reviews are always appreciated.
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The Duke’s Daughters Series
The Duke’s Daughters: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset
A Rogue for a Lady
My Restless Earl
Rescued by an Earl
In the Arms of an Earl
The Reluctant Marquess (Prequel)
A Smithfield Market Regency Romance
The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset
The Rogue’s Flower
Saved by the Scoundrel
Mending the Duke
The Baron’s Malady
The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square
The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square: A Regency Romance Boxset
The Waiting Bride
The Long Return
The Duke’s Saving Grace
A New Home for the Duke
The Spinsters Guild
A New Beginning
The Disgraced Bride
A Gentleman’s Revenge
A Foolish Wager
Love and Christmas Wishes: Three Regency Romance Novellas
Collections with other Regency Authors
Love, One Regency Spring
Rogues Like It Hot
Love a Lord in Summer
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All my love,
Rose
A Sneak Peek of A New Beginning
Chapter One
“Good evening, Miss Taylor.”
Miss Emily Taylor, daughter to the Viscount Chesterton, kept her gaze low to the ground, her stomach knotting. The gentleman who had greeted her was, at this present moment, looking at her with something akin to a leer, his balding head already gleaming in the candlelight.
“Good evening, Lord Smithton,” she murmured, hearing the grunt from her father than indicated she should be doing more than simply acknowledging the gentleman’s presence. The last thing Emily wished to do, however, was to encourage the man any further. He was, to her eyes, grotesque, and certainly not a suitable match for someone who had only recently made her debut, even if he was a Marquess.
“Emily is delighted to see you this evening,” her father said, giving Emily a small push forward. “I am certain she will be glad to dance with you whenever you wish!”
Emily closed her eyes, resisting the urge to step back from the fellow, in the knowledge that should she do so, her father would make certain that consequences would follow. She could not bring herself to speak, almost feeling Lord Smithton’s eyes roving over her form as she opened her eyes and kept her gaze low.
“You know very well that I would be more than pleased to accompany you to the floor,” Lord Smithton said, his voice low and filled with apparent longing. Emily suppressed a shudder, forcing herself to put her hand out and let her dance card drop from her wrist. Lord Smithton, however, did not grasp her dance card but took her hand in his, making a gasp escape from her mouth. The swift intake of breath from behind her informed Emily that she was not alone in her surprise and shock, for her mother also was clearly very upset that Lord Smithton had behaved in such an improper fashion. Her father, however, said nothing and, in the silence that followed, allowed himself a small chuckle.
Emily wanted to weep. It was obvious that her father was not about to say a single word about Lord Smithton’s improper behavior. Instead, it seemed he was encouraging it. Her heart ached with the sorrow that came from having a father who cared so little for her that he would allow impropriety in front of so many of the beau monde. Her reputation could be stained from such a thing, whispers spread about her, and yet her father would stand by and allow them to go about her without even a twinge of concern.
Most likely, this was because his intention was for Emily to wed Lord Smithton. It had been something Emily had begun to suspect during these last two weeks, for Lord Smithton had been present at the same social gatherings as she had attended with her parents, and her father had always insisted that she greet him. Nothing had been said as yet, however, which came as something of a relief, but deep down, Emily feared that her father would simply announce one day that she was engaged to the old, leering Lord Smithton.
“Wonderful,” Lord Smithton murmured, finally letting go of Emily’s hand and grasping her dance card. “I see that you have no others as yet, Miss Taylor.”
“We have only just arrived,” said Emily’s mother, from just behind Emily. “That is why –”
“I am certain that Lord Smithton does not need to know such things,” Lord Chesterton interrupted, silencing Emily’s mother immediately. “He is clearly grateful that Emily has not yet had her head turned by any other gentleman as yet.”
Closing her eyes tightly, Emily forced herself to breathe normally, aware of how Lord Smithton chuckled at this. She did not have any feelings of attraction or even fondness for Lord Smithton but yet her father was stating outright that she was interested in Lord Smithton’s attentions!
“I have chosen the quadrille, the waltz and the supper dance, Miss Taylor.”
Emily’s eyes shot open, and she practically jerked back the dance card from Lord Smithton’s hands, preventing him from finishing writing his name in the final space. Her father stiffened beside her, her mother gasping in shock, but Emily did not allow either reaction to prevent her from keeping her dance card away from Lord Smithton.
“I am afraid I cannot permit such a thing, Lord Smithton,” she told him plainly, her voice shaking as she struggled to find the confidence to speak with the strength she needed. “Three dances would, as you know, send many a tongue wagging and I cannot allow such a thing to happen. I am quite certain you will understand.” She lifted her chin, her stomach twisting this way and that in fright as Lord Smithton narrowed his eyes and glared at her.
“My daughter is quite correct, Lord Smithton,” Lady Chesterton added, settling a cold hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Three dances are, as you know, something that the ton will notice and discuss without dissention.”
Emily held her breath, seeing how her father and Lord Smithton exchanged a glance. Her eyes began to burn with unshed tears but she did not allow a single one to fall. She was trying to be strong, was she not? Therefore, she could not allow herself to show Lord Smithton even a single sign of weakness.
“I suppose that is to be understood,” Lord Smithton said, eventually, forcing a breath of relief to escape from Emily’s chest, weakening her. “Given that I have not made
my intentions towards you clear, Miss Taylor.”
The weakness within her grew all the more. “Intentions?” she repeated, seeing the slow smile spreading across Lord Smithton’s face and feeling almost sick with the horror of what was to come.
Lord Smithton took a step closer to her and reached for her hand, which Emily was powerless to refuse. His eyes were fixed on hers, his tongue running across his lower lip for a moment before he spoke.
“Your father and I have been in discussions as regards your dowry and the like, Miss Taylor,” he explained, his hand tightening on hers. “We should come to an agreement very soon, I am certain of it.”
Emily closed her eyes tightly, feeling her mother’s hand still resting on her shoulder and forcing herself to focus on it, to feel the support that she needed to manage this moment and all the emotions that came with it.
“We shall be wed before Season’s end,” Lord Smithton finished, grandly, as though Emily would be delighted with such news. “We shall be happy and content, shall we not, Miss Taylor?”
The lump in Emily’s throat prevented her from saying anything. She wanted to tell Lord Smithton that he had not even asked her to wed him, had not considered her answer, but the words would not come to her lips. Of course, she would have no choice in the matter. Her father would make certain of that.
“You are speechless, of course,” Lord Smithton chuckled, as her father grunted his approval. “I know that this will come as something of a surprise that I have denied myself towards marrying someone such as you, but I have no doubt that we shall get along rather famously.” His chuckle became dark, his hand tightening on hers until it became almost painful. “You are an obedient sort, are you not?”
“She is,” Emily heard her father say, as she opened her eyes to see Lord Smithton’s gaze running over her form. She had little doubt as to what he was referring to, for her mother had already spoken to her about what a husband would require from his wife, and the very thought terrified her.
