by Bree Wolf
Reaching up, Evelyn cupped the side of his face. “You seem quite adept at it now,” she teased gently, a soft smile on her lips.
Returning it, Richard pulled her tighter into his arms. “Only because of you,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly. “I often reacted wrongly because I didn’t know any better. Rules give me security because they tell me what to do. And yet, they’re not all there is. For even if there is no other choice to be made,” he said, his eyes shining as they held hers, “being asked sometimes makes all the difference.”
Evelyn nodded, pulling him into her arms and holding him tightly. His hands brushed over her back as he whispered near her ear, “I hope she will be happy again one day.”
“As do I.” Enjoying the warmth of his embrace, Evelyn vowed to stand by Claudia through this trial and do whatever might be in her power to ensure that she, too, would find a place where she felt at home…and loved.
Epilogue
London, April 1809
Four Months Later
Over the past fortnight a new routine had developed between Evelyn and her husband. Unless the weather prevented it, they met outdoors in the early afternoon and then strolled arm in arm through the garden of their London townhouse. The slowly awakening plants and blossoms were a balm to their aching souls and raised their spirits at least a little.
After that, they would head inside for tea, seeking to extend the comfortable warmth of each other’s company.
Only today, Richard failed to appear.
Making her way back to the house, Evelyn wondered what could have kept him. She knew it had to be something of great importance–and possibly great concern? –for him to have forgotten about her. After all, he had not even sent a servant to inform her of his absence.
Knowing that in all likelihood she would find her husband in his study, Evelyn lost no time and proceeded briskly down the corridor. After a quick knock, she entered to find her husband slumped over his desk, face buried in his hands.
Instantly, Evelyn’s heart clenched, and fear shot through her body. “Richard,” she exclaimed, closing the door and hastening over. “What is the matter? Are you all right?”
Lifting his head, her husband looked at her, momentarily stunned as though he had forgotten where he was. Then he blinked, rubbing his hands over his face, as he sat back, and his eyes focused on her. “Evelyn,” he mumbled, holding out a hand and pulling her onto his lap. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I should have sent someone. I…” Pulling her into his arms, he held her tightly as though to reassure himself that she was here…and not gone.
“What’s wrong?” Evelyn pressed, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach. Leaning back, she looked at him, her right thumb and index finger grasping his chin. “Tell me what happened.”
He smiled at the familiar gesture, and yet, his eyes remained troubled. “I received a letter.”
Glancing at the document in question, Evelyn all but held her breath. “Whose letter?”
Swallowing, Richard closed his eyes as though he prayed for interference so that he would not have to answer her.
A cold shiver ran down Evelyn’s back.
“Apparently,” Richard began, and his arm around her middle tightened, “the carriage that was to take Claudia’s child to its new family was…waylaid by highwaymen.”
The blood in Evelyn’s veins turned to ice, and her hand involuntarily went to cup the small bump under her dress. “The child?” she gasped, breathing heavily as fear engulfed her. “What of the child?”
Richard gritted his teeth, his pulse in his neck thudding rapidly. “Taken.” Inhaling a held-up breath, he shook his head and reached for the letter. “Mr. Lambert writes that they came out of nowhere. They–”
“Is he all right?” Evelyn interrupted, her concern drifting from the child to her husband’s second cousin and back.
Richard nodded. “A bump on the head, but other than that he seems to be fine.” Again, her husband’s eyes travelled to the parchment. “He writes that they wore masks, two or three–he is not certain–and knocked him out right away. When he came to, the child and all their belongings were gone, and the nurse was cowering in the corner of the carriage. She seems to be in shock and still hasn’t spoken a word.”
Staring at the letter as though she could will it to change the truth, Evelyn felt tears well up in her eyes. Lately, she had become quite emotional, succumbing to tears at even the smallest reason. “But why take the child? Why would anyone…?” She turned to look at her husband. “Do you think anyone knows whose child it is? Do you think anyone will be demanding ransom?”
Richard shrugged. “At this point, we cannot be certain of anything. Mr. Lambert asks if he ought to hire men to help search for the child considering the situation is most delicate.”
“Claudia does not know yet, does she?” Evelyn asked, slumping against her husband’s shoulder as all strength left her.
Only a fortnight after giving birth, Claudia had left Crestwood House despite her mother’s objections and returned to London for the remainder of the season, claiming she was bored out of her mind and needed the diversion. In truth, Evelyn knew it was a desperate attempt to keep herself from falling apart as the thought that she would never see her child again began to consume her.
That had been five days ago.
“Do you think we should tell her?” Richard asked, doubt clear and loud in his voice.
Evelyn nodded. “No matter what, she is the child’s mother. She deserves to know.”
Closing his eyes, Richard sighed, resting his head against the back of the chair. “It will break her heart all over again.”
Snuggling closer, Evelyn knew that he was right. Still, Claudia deserved to know. There was no way to keep this from her. After all, they were family, and they would face this together.
Claudia was not alone.
That was what mattered.
Placing a gentle hand on her belly, Evelyn prayed that Claudia’s child was all right and that they would find it.
Soon.
THE END
In the next instalment of this series, Destroyed & Restored – The Baron's Courageous Wife, we will once more meet Lady Adelaide as she finds herself forced to pay the price for her father's gambling debts…and marry the man who won her hand in a game of cards.
Still, Claudia's story will not have to wait for long. In book thirteen, she will set out to find her child, only to receive unexpected aid in her quest from a handsome stranger. A man who seems more familiar than he ought to be. A man she has met before. If only she could remember him!
If you care to know Charlotte’s and Sebastian’s story, have a look at book 5 Ruined & Redeemed - The Earl’s Fallen Wife in the series. You’ll find an extract on the following pages.
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About Bree
USA Today bestselling author, Bree Wolf has always been a language enthusiast (though not a grammarian!) and is rarely found without a book in her hand or her fingers glued to a keyboard. Trying to find her way, she has taught English as a second language, traveled abroad and worked at a translation agency as well as a law firm in Ireland. She also spent loooong years obtaining a BA in English and Education and an MA in Specialized Translation while wishing she could simply be a writer. Although there is nothing simple about being a writer, her dreams have finally come true.
“A big thanks to my fairy godmother!”
Currently, Bree has found her new home in the historical romance genre, writing Regency novels and novellas. Enjoying the mix of fact and fiction, she occasionally feels like a puppet master (or mistress? Although that sounds weird!), forcing her characters into ever-new situations that will put their strength, their beliefs, their love to the test, hoping that in the end they will triumph and get the happ
ily-ever-after we are all looking for.
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The Earl’s Fallen Wife
(#5 Love’s Second Chance Series)
A heinous crime. A valiant hero. An undeniable temptation.
LADY CHARLOTTE FRAMPTON is dead…at least, that is what everyone believes.
Fleeing from her life-shattering past, Charlotte reinvents herself as Lotte and becomes the companion to a viscount’s sister. All she is hoping for is a simple and quiet life in the country, away from the demons that still plague her.
However, her safe haven is threatened when a visitor arrives one day.
SEBASTIAN CAMPBELL, son to the EARL OF WESTON, failed in the most miserable way…and his sister had to pay the price.
At his wits’ end, he seeks advice from an old friend, and as though fate chose to intervene at last, his path crosses that of a young woman with soulfully deep eyes. The pain and regret he sees in them echo within his own heart, and Sebastian knows without a doubt that he has found his other half.
Can Sebastian convince Charlotte that it is never too late for forgiveness and love?
Prologue
England, spring 1804 (or a variation thereof)
Three Years Ago
A hand curled around a glass of water, Lady Charlotte Frampton stood by the refreshment table. Doing her best to drown out the cheerfulness of the many attending guests to her father’s rather impromptu ball, she forced the clear liquid down her throat, hoping it would somehow clear her mind and ease her heart.
“You look lovely tonight, my dear,” Lord Northfield whispered from behind her.
His breath brushed over the bare skin on her neck, and she gritted her teeth as a wave of nausea rolled over her. Swallowing, she turned around, eyes hard as she regarded him with all the repulsion that burned in her heart. “I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from calling me that, my lord.”
Instead of being offended, Lord Northfield chuckled. “How endearing,” he said, then glanced around the large ballroom before leaning closer. “You did not object the other night.”
“I did object,” Charlotte forced out through gritted teeth. “However, how was I to know that you are anything but a gentleman?”
Amused, Baron Northfield laughed. “Be that as it may,” he continued, “Your father will make the announcement within the hour,” his unrelenting eyes held hers for a moment before drifting lower to linger on more intimate places, “and then I shall have every right to call you my dear.” A triumphant sneer drew up his lips as he held her gaze, daring her to fight him, knowing that she could not win.
As his threat echoed in her ears, Charlotte felt her body grow rigid with dread and repulsion and the utter hopelessness of her situation. Her fingers tightened around the glass in her hand until her sinews stood out white and her hand began to ache. And yet, Charlotte welcomed the pain for it was far better than the torturous despair that ate at her soul.
Brushing a golden lock of his meticulously groomed hair behind his ear, Lord Northfield smiled at her, clearly amused with the struggle that coursed through her.
Once, she had thought him handsome with his clear blue eyes and symmetric features. He was tall and striking, and women flocked to him. However, on closer inspection, Charlotte now knew that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a predator who preyed on the weak.
For a reason Charlotte could not fathom, his choice for a target had fallen on her.
And he had taken her down.
The memory of a nightmare flashed before her mind’s eye, and her hand convulsively clenched around the delicate glass in her hand.
A moment later, a soft crack reached her ears, and then the opposing pressure vanished. Cold water ran over her hand as tiny shards of crystal dug into her fingers and palm, others falling to the floor.
Lord Northfield’s eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze shifted to her hand.
Blood welled up between her clenched fingers and dripped to the ground. However, no one seemed to notice. The music continued to play. Couples continued to dance. And the world continued to turn.
Why didn’t anyone notice?
From a distance, a voice echoed to her ears. “Charlotte!”
Hearing his voice, Charlotte’s muscles instantly went slack with relief. Her hand opened, and the remaining shards fell to the floor as she fought the growing dizziness that threatened to knock out her legs from under her.
As she turned her head, she found him rushing toward her, his kind face clouded with concern as his eyes shifted from her face to her bloodied hand.
He was her friend, her protector, her saviour. He always had been, and yet, today, he could not help her.
“Kenneth,” she gasped as he reached for her hand, his watchful eyes examining the small cuts.
“Are you all right?” he asked,
pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. “What happened?” His eyes drifted to Lord Northfield, and she noticed the slight tension that always came to his jaw whenever he wanted to say more than he dared.
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said, allowing his strong arms to hold her upright as white lights began to dance before her eyes. “I’m fine,” she repeated although the meaning of that sentence was lost on her.
“It is nothing,” Lord Northfield interjected, a disapproving frown on his face as he glanced from her to Kenneth. Then he held out his hand to her. “Allow me to escort you to the terrace for some air.”
Staring at her own hand as though he’d just threatened to cut it off, Charlotte took a step back and then shook her head. The mere thought of being alone with that man terrified her to her very core.
At her rejection, Lord Northfield’s jaw clenched and his eyes hardened, revealing the unfeeling heart that beat in his chest. “You will do as I say,” he snapped, advancing on her.
“That’s enough, Northfield,” Kenneth commanded, stepping in front of her, shielding her with his body. He glared at her enemy. “Leave. Now.”
A snarl on his face, Lord Northfield took a deep breath as the glare in his eyes promised retribution. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his head, looking down at them with unconcealed disgust. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.