Hopes and Brides: Regency and Mail Order Bride Historical Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  There was a long, heavy silence, and Dorothea felt her heart sink to the floor, shame dragging it down to the depths. There, she had told him all, and now what was waiting for her was nothing but mortification and ruin.

  Her father would throw her from the house, and most likely, she would have to go to the poor house or some such place. She had no friends to speak of, no family to turn to. Her punishment for refusing to do what her father wanted would be severe, and yet Dorothea welcomed it. To be free of her father’s bonds, to be allowed to make her own way in the world, seemed to be a great blessing, even if she were to become a pauper. Perhaps, just perhaps, Lady Patton would be willing to help her when the time came for Dorothea to be thrown out of her father’s home. It was the only hope she had left.

  “Might I ask, Dorothea,” Lord Turner said softly, his voice breaking the quiet tension that had settled over them, “what you will bring on your own head, should you refuse to marry me?”

  Tears slid down her cheeks, but she did not wipe them away. “It matters not, Lord Turner. I have long endured my father’s demands, and whilst I have done my best to stand up to them when I could, of late he has become a little more threatening. He informed me that if I did not do as he asked, then I would be thrown from his house and ruined forever.” She lifted one shoulder into a halfhearted shrug. “Mayhap that will occur and mayhap that is for the best. My only fear is that he will attempt to injure you also.”

  “Injure me?” Lord Turner repeated, his voice now dark with anger once more. “In what way?”

  Hopelessly, her shoulders slumped again. “I cannot say, my lord, for I do not know. My father has warned me that, should I turn from you or should I refuse to do as he asks once we are wed, he will bring about your ruin through some means or other. I have no doubt that he means it, for he is a cruel man with dark intentions.” Sniffing, she hesitated for a moment, before speaking once more. “In a way, Lord Turner, I believe I have been trying to protect you as well as myself. Although I will admit—shamefully—that I have been struggling with fear and doubt over my father’s continual demands. I should never have allowed this to continue, Lord Turner. I should have told you all from the start, and perhaps now, you would have discovered the truth about my father’s involvement yourself. I can only apologize for what I have done and I—”

  Her words were cut off by the feeling of Lord Turner’s lips pressed against her own. He had strode towards her as she had been speaking and was now holding her shoulders firmly, his lips hard and fierce on her own.

  She could barely breathe.

  Her heart began to pound in her chest, her hands falling limp to either side as he continued to kiss her. Angling his head just a little, he slowly encouraged her to respond, slowly urging her to let her emotions run all through her without holding back.

  Slowly, so slowly, her darkness and sorrow were chased away. Her heart began to fill with light, her mind alive with delight. Her arm lifted to wrap about his neck, and as she did so, his lips softened and became gentle. Tears were on her cheeks by the time he lifted his head. Her eyes were burning with tears as she stared at him, not knowing what to say.

  “You are as brave a creature as I have ever known,” Lord Turner said softly. “You have endured so very much, my dear, and I will not allow you to endure more. Allow me to try and rescue you, in the way that you have tried to rescue me. Perhaps together, we will be able to find a way through this darkness.”

  Swallowing hard, Dorothea wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, almost entirely overcome. This was not what she had expected him to either say or do, having been quite certain that he would turn away from her altogether now that the truth was out.

  “I will confess that this was something of a shock, hearing the truth about Lord Gaines, but I will never lay the blame for that at your feet, my dear,” Lord Turner continued gently. “I have suspected your father of organizing our engagement for some time, and given what you had already told me of him, I allowed my suspicions to grow. However, to hear that he set the fire…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping away for a moment as he struggled with his emotions. “That was hard to accept, Dorothea. You cannot know just how long I have struggled with such a thing, not knowing who was responsible. Now, to discover the truth of it, I confess that I was quite overcome. But again, my lady, this is not your doing in any way.”

  Dorothea felt a sob escape from her and pressed one hand to her mouth, her whole being overwhelmed by his kindness and understanding.

  “You are the only creature who has ever looked at me with consideration and understanding,” Lord Turner finished, his hand trailing down her damp cheek. “How can I turn from you now, Dorothea? You have a kind and good heart, better than any I have ever known before. I will make you my wife, if you still wish it, not because we have been forced to do so, but because it is the most sincere wish of my heart.”

  She felt his hand gently lift her chin and, despite the trembling in her limbs, allowed him to do so. Looking back at him, she felt herself both laugh and cry at the very same moment, her hand reaching up to brush along the side of his face – only for him to turn away yet again. It was an ongoing frustration, for she so desperately wished to prove to him that she was not about to fear those marks, but yet he could not seem to bring himself to allow her that privilege.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered, a tight smile on his face. “In time, perhaps, Dorothea, but not yet.”

  He would not let her touch his scars, would not allow her to be so intimate with him. Despite her sadness on this matter, she simply accepted it. “Very well, Lord Turner,” she whispered, her lips still curved with a gentle smile. “If you still wish it, then yes, I will marry you.”

  He smiled at her. “I believe it would make me the happiest man in all of England. Thank you.”

  12

  Edward rose from bed the next morning with a feeling of complete satisfaction.

  And also a good deal of stealth, for he did not wish to wake his beautiful bride, who was still sound asleep in her four-poster bed.

  Not wishing her to see the extent of his scarring, he quickly rose, belted the dressing gown he had worn last evening when he had come to her, and made his way back through the adjoining door that led to his own bedchamber.

  There, at least, he was safe.

  Letting out a long breath, he let himself relax for a moment, aware that his heart was beating rather quickly. It could not be from fear, surely? He put one hand to his chest, feeling the tumult of it beneath his fingers, and realized that, yes, he had been afraid.

  Afraid that she would see the scars that clung to his hand, his arm, shoulder and chest, and that she would quiver and tremble at the sight of them. He was afraid that Dorothea would turn from him, even though they were husband and wife in every sense of the word now.

  He had gone to her after what had been both a confusing and yet delightful day. To have discovered the truth about Lord Gaines in such a breathtaking fashion had quite torn the air from his lungs, but he had soon seen that Dorothea had been suffering terribly under the hand of her father. To have attempted to defy him, only to have been threatened with the one thing that would take the very life from her was more than oppressive, it was torturous. And yet, she had chosen to bear that punishment by refusing to marry him.

  The willingness of her, the tenderness of her heart, burned into his very soul. There was none like Dorothea, he was sure of it. That was why, after their marriage and the celebratory meal that Lord and Lady Patton had put on for them both, he had felt himself grow all the closer to his wife. He had wanted to go to her last evening. He had wanted to soothe her fears with gentle kisses and take away every last doubt by his words of promise.

  But, of course, he himself could not remove the fear that came with the thought of going to his wife in the candlelight. He had waited until the fire had burned low in his grate, praying that it was the same in her own bedchamber, and then insisted that no candles burn their fierce li
ght into the room. He had kept himself safe, kept himself protected, and yet somehow, he had felt a barrier between them.

  Dorothea had barely touched him last evening, although he had wished her to. Perhaps she had been afraid, or perhaps it was because he had jerked away from her when she had reached to touch his face only yesterday. Whilst she had been warm and willing last evening, she had never once reached for him. Was this how it was to be? Was he to keep this part of himself hidden from her forever? Could he never face his own fears and allow her to see him for who he truly was?

  “My lord?”

  The scratch on the door made him jump and, making sure that his dressing gown was still tight about him, he walked to the door to open it himself.

  “I do apologize, my lord,” the butler stammered, his face a delicate shade of red as he let his gaze settle somewhere over Edward’s shoulder. “But you have an urgent visitor.”

  Edward lifted his brow. “Oh?”

  “Lord Gaines is demanding that he speak to you,” the butler continued, with a somewhat anxious glance in Edward’s direction. “He was creating quite a noise on the street, and I felt obliged to allow him entry so that he would not disturb anyone else.”

  And ensuring that there is no gossip to be spread, Edward thought to himself, rolling his eyes. He was not surprised in the least to hear that Lord Gaines had appeared from nowhere, after being quite unable to be found ever since the ball two nights ago.

  Edward was quite sure that Lord Gaines had used his daughter’s faint to his advantage, in an attempt to ensure that Dorothea did as she was told. Mayhap Lord Gaines had been worried that his daughter would refuse to do what he expected of her, fearing that she had become much too sentimental towards Edward. Well, for whatever reason, Lord Gaines had chosen to make himself known once more, and Edward was quite sure there was a good reason for it.

  “I will dress and be down just as soon as I can,” he said quietly. “I do not wish to disturb Lady Turner, so put Lord Gaines in my study for the time being, since it is far away from Lady Turner’s bedchamber. It will not take me long to dress.”

  The butler nodded, still looking quite apologetic and faded away quietly, leaving Edward to ready himself to speak to his guest.

  Edward dressed quickly, his heart twisting angrily in his chest. Here he was to meet the man responsible for setting a fire all those years ago, although he still did not know what had driven Lord Gaines to do such a thing. Of course, had he known that Gaines was responsible before now, then he would not have hesitated to have called him out for it, but as things stood now, Edward knew he had to be careful. He had to be the one who was cunning and sly, just as Lord Gaines believed himself to be. The man did not know that Dorothea had heard him speak to this unknown lady, which meant that, for the first time, Edward had the upper hand.

  What is it that you want?

  The question molded itself to Edward’s mind, forcing him to pause as he finished tying his cravat, having refused a valet’s help so that he might be alone with his thoughts.

  He did not know what it was he intended to do with Lord Gaines. Knowing that he was responsible for the fire, for the scars he bore today, that truth tore at him. But the question of what he was to do with this man now that he had found out the truth still burned into his heart.

  Could he call him out? Bring him to justice with the fire of a pistol shot? Knowing how Lord Gaines had treated Dorothea and what he had threatened her with – what he had threatened them both with – made the idea of calling him out seem all the more enticing. He wanted to punish the man; he wanted to make sure that he knew he had been found out. It would be his way of protecting Dorothea also, to show her that there was nothing to fear any longer when it came to her father.

  A shudder ran through him. No, he could not do such a thing. To call him out would mean that either Lord Gaines would turn and run, hiding himself away like a coward would do, only to emerge from the shadows whenever he could in order to try and wind his way back into Dorothea’s life. His wife would remain bound by fear, never truly free, worried that her father would somehow reappear again simply to do his worst to them both. Lord Gaines could easily start rumors, spread gossip. His words could do more damage to Edward’s name and subsequent family line if he allowed it.

  Sighing heavily, Edward dropped his head and let his gaze rest on the flames. For so long, he had simply been able to accept that what had happened was a part of him now, past, present, and future. He had known that his scars would never fade, that they would always be with him. Even in his darkest moments, when he had recognized himself as the cruel, selfish, proud gentleman that he was, he had simply forced his mind to accept that this had been his punishment. The thought of trying to capture the person responsible had faded with time, knowing that it was a near impossible task. In addition, he had felt as though he had deserved such a punishment for being the kind of man he had been, for the cruelty he had inflicted on so many. Absentmindedly, he ran his hand down his scarred cheek, aware of how it burned slightly underneath his touch. The truth was, he wanted to do something regarding Lord Gaines, but he was, at this point, entirely unable to decide what it was.

  “Turner!”

  Just as Edward left his bedchamber, he discovered that Lord Johnston had not only entered his house but was now walking towards him with a severe look on his face. It was not uncommon for Lord Johnston to walk into Edward’s home with little or no warning, and so Edward simply shrugged inwardly and welcomed his friend.

  “I thought that, after yesterday’s festivities, you would be abed still,” he said lightly, as Johnston greeted him. “My thanks for your support, Johnston.”

  Lord Johnston inclined his head a little. “You have no need to thank me, old boy. Glad to help. I am truly happy for you both. I must say though, I thought I detected some genuine feeling on your part for the lady.” His eyebrows rose, a small smile on his lips. “Can it be that you have found genuine happiness with Miss Earnest – Lady Turner, I mean – after all?”

  Edward grinned. “I believe so,” he replied, clapping one hand down on his friend’s shoulder. “Were it not for the fact that Lord Gaines has now appeared in my house, after his notable absence the last two days.” His smile slipped as Johnston frowned, clearly as uneasy about Lord Gaines’s presence as he was. “I do not know what it is he wants, but according to my butler, he was making a good deal of noise this morning.”

  “That is precisely why I have come,” Johnston said, interrupting Edward as he began to walk towards the staircase. “I have discovered something about Lord Gaines that I am almost afraid to tell you, for fear that it will quite ruin matters between yourself and your good wife.”

  Edward turned towards him. “If it is to tell me that you believe he is responsible for the fire so many years ago, then you need not be afraid to tell me, Johnston. I am already aware.”

  His friend’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide with astonishment.

  “Lady Turner discovered it herself but two days ago,” Edward explained, thinking quietly to himself just how nice it was to refer to Dorothea in such a pleasing term as “Lady Turner”. “I am sorry if that has taken the wind from you somewhat, Johnston.”

  Lord Johnston blew out his breath in surprise, running one hand over his hair. “Indeed, I had my suspicions, but I did not think…” He turned on his heel and walked a few paces before returning to Edward’s side again, clearly astonished still.

  “Then what was it you came to tell me, if it was not about the fire?” Edward asked, a little confused.

  Johnston’s expression cleared, as though he had just recalled why he had come to Edward’s home in the first place. “Oh, of course. I mean, I had my suspicions, which I intended to lay before you, but my reasons for such suspicions were based on what I discovered only yesterday. I went to White’s after the splendid day of your nuptials, and one of the gentlemen began discussing your wife.” Johnston closed his eyes momentarily and shrugged, clearly a lit
tle flustered. “I will not express to you everything that was said, but some comment was made about her father, Lord Gaines. The gentleman I spoke to commented on how funny it was that Lord Gaines had taken for himself a mistress, the very lady you once courted.”

  Edward found he could not breathe. His eyes stared at Lord Johnston, seeing the same astonishment in his friend’s expression, still lingering there from when he had first heard the news.

  “Yes, it is so,” Johnston said softly. “Lord Gaines’s mistress is Miss Cynthia Melrose – although I believe she calls herself Lady Lauder now. At one time or another, I believe there was a marriage to Lord Lauder, but he died very soon after their marriage. From what I know, Lord Lauder was a particularly old and infirm gentleman, so his death was not surprising. Although why Miss Cynthia would ever marry someone such as him, I cannot quite understand.”