Healing The Broken Marchioness (Laced Up Ladies Book 2)

by Ella Edon

  "Gerald, I don't like that Lord Bowmount has sent you on an errand at this hour."

  He shook his head. "You're mistaken, My Lady. 'Tis for me to deliver tomorrow."

  Katherine sighed dramatically. "You have a good heart, Gerald. Too good. Even if he's sent you tonight, you'd never want to truly admit it. I will keep the letter, when you're to take mother to church tomorrow morning, you shall come for it.'

  When he frowned, she added. "Just to make sure that he has indeed sent you to deliver this tomorrow. There's nothing to fear, if it is so."

  He nodded, "Of course My Lady." He dropped his hands to his sides. "I will come for the letter tomorrow."

  "Splendid." Katherine smiled. "Have a good night, Gerald."

  He nodded, a slight frown still on his face. "You as well, My Lady."

  She waited for him to turn and run down the stairs, before she finally blew out the flame. She smiled against the now bare stick. Light from the windows of the east and west wings still reflected in the path. She smiled and made her way to her bed chamber, with the letter in hand. The moment she walked into her bed chamber, she tore the note to pieces and threw the pieces into the fire. Her plan was in motion. Lord Bowmount would never make it for the meeting and no carriage would ever arrive. This would teach him a lesson; this would break him. It was only the beginning of the many unfortunate things that would be fall him there at Bowmount, and soon, he would be running back to Flitwick, leaving everything in her care.

  Chapter Eight

  The ray of sun kissed his skin when he stirred. He yawned, feeling weak all over again and feeling the need to return back to sleep. But he felt that the sleep was enough. His eyes fluttered open. The sun shone on his face and he shut his eyes quickly. He turned his face the other way and opened his eyes again. He lazily looked around the bed chamber. It was quite bright. He felt so tired, his muscles felt so weak. He felt the need to close his eyes and sleep some more.

  He gazed around again, still laying on his back. Then slowly, he sat up. He yawned when he did. He placed his feet to the floor. He felt like he was missing something, like he was forgetting something. Everything felt off. He frowned and rose from his bed. He walked over to the window, looking out. He rubbed his hands over his face. Then he looked around the room again. His eyes landed on his briefcase, which was set on the table in his room. His eyes widened as he recalled what was in the briefcase.

  "No!" He rushed over to the table, picked up his pocket watch and checked the time. To his horror, it was an hour after noon. He had slept through the entire morning. "No, no. No!"

  He rushed to the wardrobe and took out a random coat, waist coat and breeches, pulling them on quickly. What had happened? How had he slept for so long? Especially knowing that he had an important meeting! This had never happened to him. He had never overslept on a day so important. He kept on muttering to himself.

  Soon, he was all dressed, some buttons on his waist coat were not buttoned properly, he grabbed his briefcase in one hand as he rushed out of the bed chamber. He made his way downstairs, running like one who was losing his mind. At the edge of the stairs, Katherine stood in black dress, her chin tilted up. He ran past her, but nearly froze when he thought he saw her lips curl upwards in a smile.

  Arthur shook his head and ran towards where the carriage was usually parked. It was empty. Gerald was still at the church with the Dowager Marchioness?! Gerald. That reminded him. Had he not ordered a hackney, as requested? Originally, he was supposed to have horse, but Arthur had changed his mind at the last minute. He had been sure to explain to Gerald, but…there was no one there.

  What had happened? Why did he sleep so late? He would never have done that. It was unlike him. He was panting by the time he got to the stables. Mr. Herondale had set the meeting around eight in the morning. He was about four hours late. Mr. Herondale must have left by then. Shaking his head, he saddled a horse. The horse neighed furiously and ran out of the stables and towards the path that led to town. So many questions filled his mind. Something strange had happened. He didn't feel like himself. He didn't feel comfortable. He had overslept and missed his meeting?!

  Arthur rode fast, and was at Old Street in no time. He stopped the horse right in front of the Jeweler's shop, where he had planned to have the meeting with Herondale. The shop was closed. He shook his head and rushed over. No one was inside. How had this happened? This meant he would not be able to open up until Herondale was back. Even if the cleaning was done now, he'd still have to wait. Arthur was frustrated. He'd planned out how his next few days would go. Now, none of it could go forward. Never had he imagined such unfortunate situation to befall him. He was mad with rage, angry, confused.

  He recalled giving Gerald a letter to give to a hackney to come to Bowmount. No one else knew about his plans except Gerald. And if Gerald had hired a hackney, then the driver would have arrived and asked for him. Then someone would surely have woken him to tell him that a hackney was waiting for him. Had Gerald called the hackney and then it was sent away? Perhaps that was indeed what had happened. He knew everyone in that house hated him, but could they go as far as trying to sabotage him in such a way?

  He was pacing the busy street with his briefcase, his ruffled hair and his half-buttoned coat. I must look like a fool, he thought. He had to return to Bowmount Hall and get to the root of the matter. Someone had sabotaged him, he was sure of it. Someone had made him miss his meeting with Mr. Herondale. Someone who knew how important this was to him.

  * * *

  He had alighted from the horse and returned it to the stables, before making his way towards the house. He was caught off-guard by Gerald, who stood by the door. Arthur narrowed his eyes at him. Just the man he needed to see.

  Gerald rushed down the stairs to meet him. "My Lord, what happened? You look —"

  "Did you deliver the note I asked you to?" Arthur asked, cutting him short. He stood at the foot of the stairs, his hand gripping his briefcase to keep himself from losing his temper.

  Gerald swallowed hard. "Lady Bowmount collected the letter from me, My Lord. When I tried to collect it this morning, she was fast asleep. Her lady’s maid wouldn’t get it for me, either. I wanted to inform you, but the Dowager Marchioness called at that very second. I however asked Fin to feed and saddle the horse, so when you awoke, he would be ready to leave."

  Arthur stared at Gerald; his breathing calming. Lady Bowmount had collected the letter from him. It was quite obvious that she didn't want a hackney to be brought to him, to miss his meeting. But how had she known about the meeting? And how had he overslept...

  Slowly, the answers that he lacked began to come to him. How had the cook known to set out two separate bowls of pie? It was as though someone had already known that he couldn’t eat Black Pudding, due to his allergy. It had been strange, to arrive and see a bowl already placed before him. Could it be that he had been given a potion to make him fall a sleep? Could that be it?

  "My Lord —"

  "I missed the meeting, Gerald. Mr. Herondale was long gone before I arrived." He looked up at Gerald. "I arrived at one of the clock."

  "Oh, heavens," Gerald gasped. "How is that possible? You never sleep past seven, My Lord."

  Arthur shook his head. He was calmer now; he was not so angry anymore. And he didn't know why. "I do not know, but someone must have given me something that made me sleep for so long. It is quite unusual that this would happen."

  "My deepest apologies, My Lord." Gerald's expression turned gloom. "But who would dare do... " He stopped. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed. Arthur knew it was his loyalty to the lady of the house that stopped him from speaking any further. Because it was quite obvious who had done this.

  Arthur considered what to do. If she would stoop so low as to put a sleeping draught in his food, then what else was she capable of? Would it be poison, next? "What have I done to deserve this?" he wondered.

  Gerald offered him a sad smile. "Give it time, My Lord. They'l
l warm up to you, just as I have."

  Arthur laughed humorlessly. "I am not sure about that."

  "My Lord, Lady Bowmount has had quite a difficult time since his lordship’s untimely demise. She is very protective of her own —"

  "She feels I've come to take what is hers?"

  Gerald inclined his head. "I’m afraid so."

  Arthur blew out a breath. "Do you think I should leave, then? Perhaps coming here was a mistake, Gerald, I should have stayed back at Flitwick."

  "No, My Lord!" Gerald said quickly. "You are the Marquess of Bowmount."

  "It does not feel like it!" Arthur snapped.

  Gerald smiled sadly. "It will, perhaps with time. Lady Bowmount needs a lot of help with the manor. Although she stood by Lord Bowmount, he didn't like to involve her. He didn't like to stress her. I am afraid we need you to complete what Lord Bowmount has started.”

  Arthur closed his eyes and sighed. He was not so sure about that. It had been nothing less than an eventful day. All he needed was rest, and time to himself. He would not be opening his office anytime soon, so he might as well get used to the manor. He would start to look around to see what he really owned.

  He walked into the house, his shoulders slumped and his spirits low. He’d wanted so much to begin his practice. The door shut behind him and he was certain Gerald was walking behind him slowly.

  He was nearly close to the figurine he’d seen the previous day when he saw Lady Victoria come from the corner and immediately, the blonde maid — Amelia, followed behind her. On seeing her, he remembered his promise to her. His eyes widened. He faked a smile and squatted in front of her. Gerald walked past.

  "Lady Victoria, how do you do?” he called out.

  Lady Victoria smiled a little and curtsied. “I’m quite well, My Lord."

  He grinned. “Very well then, are you ready for the stories you’ve asked of me?”

  Lady Victoria looked up at him. “You remembered.”

  Arthur smiled. How could he not recall such a request from her? “Of course, I remember.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to tell me the story in the courtyard? The sun is down and my papa used to tell me stories while we sat there.” Lady Victoria then turned to her Nurse. "We can go out to the courtyard, can't we, Amelia?"

  The maid looked between him and Lady Victoria. She seemed to be battling with herself, wondering if it was right to do or not. Arthur wanted to intervene, because he knew her conflict was about Lady Bowmount.

  “You'll be there all through, Amelia.”

  Amelia opened her mouth to speak again, but eventually, she began to nod reluctantly. "It'd be alright for us to go, My Lady."

  Lady Victoria smiled. Then she jerked her head towards the back and Arthur laughed before following behind her.

  Arthur walked with Lady Victoria towards the courtyard, and for the next hour, he told her the story of the first time he met his cousin Victor. He had arrived for Victor’s confirmation in the church, and they had begun talking almost immediately. They were like the brothers they never had.

  By the time Arthur was done telling Victoria a story which made her grin a little, he decided to head into the house and have that rest he had been yearning for.

  He walked into the house, his briefcase still in hand and looking more disheveled than when he’d left in the morning. He shut the large Italian door and walked on.

  He was about to turn around the corner, when he saw Lady Bowmount standing at the far end of the long hallway.

  She smiled at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. It made her blue eyes bluer. “Lord Bowmount. You don’t look so well, is everything alright?”

  It was she. She planned it all, she did this. And why? Because she was angry? Because she thought that he’d never be Victor? He had never wanted to be Victor. He just wanted to see what his inheritance looked like. He just wanted to be there, to see what Victor had started, to be there to help out those he had left behind. But he did not bargain for this. For the hate. However, looking as Katherine smiled behind her darkened blue eyes, he remembered what Gerald had said about her being hurt quite a number of times.

  He remembered. He wanted to know what she had been through. Because the hurt she had faced was making her the angry lady who stood before him. He wanted to believe that this was not who she truly was. And so, with this thought in mind, it encouraged him to not give her the satisfaction she wanted. He would prove her wrong. He would prove to her that he was capable of handling his own inheritance and helping her secure what Victor had put so much hard work into. He wanted to prove to her that he was no disappointment. He fought the urge to walk up to her in all his rage and tell her how he felt about her anger towards him. About her standing there, looking absolutely breathtaking, despite her anger.

  However, he wanted her to know that he was not in the least intimidated by what she had done. He also wanted her to trust that he had no bad intentions.

  Without thinking it through, he sauntered slowly to where she stood. He smiled at her. He watched her blink rapidly and watched her suck in a shaky breath as he neared her. He wondered what he was doing, and if he was crazy, walking up to her like this, closing the gap between them. It was indeed crazy, but he could not stop himself and she didn't move as well. He stopped in front of her. His heart beat rapidly, and he could hear her struggle to breathe. He liked that she seemed slightly affected by his nearness.

  He smiled and leaned in a tad, so his lips were inches away from her ear. Then he whispered, "Just a little set back, nothing that can’t be overcome.”

  He stepped back, just as she looked up at him. He watched her eyes widen. He saw her swallow and he felt the need to walk out of there, but he was frozen. Her eyes captivated him. She suddenly clenched her teeth and looked away from him.

  She was indeed fierce. He liked how her ringlet curls framed her face as she stood there. He wondered if she felt as strangely as he did when he was around her, or if she was simply uncomfortable by their nearness. She moved back. Then she looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling and her cheeks brightened with red. He blinked as he watched her. She was flustered, no doubt about that. He wondered why. He stared at her for a while, she did the same, neither seeming to know what to do. Then he recalled what she had done and he remembered that she didn't trust him, didn't see him as anything, but an imposter. And she was his late cousin's wife. She was clearly still in mourning.

  With those thoughts in mind, he inclined his head in her direction, and made his way up the stairs. He walked away with a promise to himself and a silent one to her. He would break through her walls and see her for who she truly was. He would convince her that he had no ill intentions towards her.

  He needed to do something that would surprise Lady Bowmount. He was after all, The Marquess of Bowmount. And it was high time he started acting as such. He paused as all these thoughts kept rushing in. He had not felt this strongly for anyone in a long time. Not since Mary. Not since Mary had left him broken that he had thought himself ruined for whatever feelings. He clenched his teeth and shook his head. He wanted no thoughts of Mary. All he wanted to focus on was how to surprise Lady Bowmount. Mary was no longer part of his life. She was his past and he didn't want her to ruin his present.

  Chapter Nine

  Katherine gazed outside the window from the hallway. She was not happy by what she saw. The rosebuds seemed too frail amongst all other flowers. The lilies glowed around them, standing as though they were dancing in the sunlight. But the roses were her favorite, and it worried her that they were dying. Hadn't Fin said that he knew about flowers? She had assigned him to keep an eye on the flowers, specifically. He seemed to be doing an awful job of it. She shook her head and turned around. She was startled by the figure leaning against the wall not so far from her.

  When she saw who it was clearly, she breathed easily. "Lord Bowmount."

  He smiled and stood upright. "Pardon me. I saw that you were engrossed in the flowers, so I'd decided
not to interrupt until you were done."

  She stared at him in bewilderment. She had done well to avoid him for the past few days, and he had been too busy with the paperwork to notice. Now, he was looking for her? He was hidden by the shadows, so she saw very little of him. But her curiosity was piqued. She wondered what his eyes looked like as he gazed at her.

  "Is there anything else you seek?" She inclined her head.

  Lord Bowmount stepped properly into the light, away from the shadows of the hallway. She saw him then; his face gave away the fact that he had been reading through his paperwork religiously. The dark circles beneath his eyes bothered her as well. She opened her mouth to scold him for depriving himself of sleep. But she stopped herself. What did it matter to her?