Entrapping a Lord's Love: A Regency Fairy Tale (Fairfield Fairy Tales Book 3)
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Entrapping a Lord’s Love
Fairfield Fairy Tales Book 3
Tammy Andresen
Copyright © 2017 by Tammy Andresen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Tom and Caroline
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Also available
About the Author
Stealing a Lady’s Heart
Tom and Caroline
Based on the Fairy Tale: A Master Thief
Chapter One
Caroline Crawley stood assessing her next target. Technically speaking, she was Lady Caroline Crawley, the daughter of Lord Winston Crawley, Earl of Wainscroft. But her mother had passed long ago. Caroline had no memory of her or her father, who was killed in the Napoleonic Wars. An orphan, she was taken in by the new Lord Wainscroft, Crimson Crawley.
“Is that him?” she asked, cocking her head to one side. She stood next to Crimson as she watched a carpenter deftly scale scaffolding set up in front of the church. He was a large man yet his movement was so fluid, she could not look away from the sight. It was as mesmerizing as Crimson’s hypnosis.
“Yes,” Crimson’s voice held a hard edge that she rarely heard. “His family bought the property between the church and our building. They are renovating both the church and turning the old butcher’s shop into an orphanage.”
“What is so wrong with that? You yourself have taken in three orphans. Without you, we’d be on the streets.”
He sighed heavily. “I don’t begrudge the orphanage but without that property, all of our efforts have been for not. Without expanding, we won’t survive.”
“Won’t survive?” With those words, her eyes finally left the carpenter and swung to her cousin. The things she had done were unforgivable in the eyes of the law but she had thought them necessary. If the theater failed anyway…
While her cousin had inherited the title, he had also received a mountain of debt. She had heard Crimson mumble more than once that her father had joined the army to escape them in the first place. What few remaining assets her father had left were promptly sold, all except for the theater.
By all outward appearances, the Regent Theater had been a success. Crimson was a hypnotist by trade and a magician by hobby. He incorporated his tricks into the shows in ways that brought the ton flocking to his theater. To own the theater was a dream come true for him, and likely the only reason he had accepted the debt that came with it. He loved every second of being in the business, which shined through in each of their shows.
But debtors and the operation and payroll of the company took every penny he earned. And he could only make ticket prices so high before patrons stopped attending.
He needed to earn more money and had decided the best course was to expand the theater to accommodate more seats. To pay for the expansion, he had derived a wild scheme. One she begrudgingly participated in.
“It can’t fail now,” she choked out, her gloved hand coming to the column of her neck. “After what I have done?”
“I know, my dear.” He patted her other hand. “That is why we must put a stop to this renovation and purchase the property ourselves.”
“But how?” she asked her eyes swinging back to the carpenter. He was easily removing sills from the windows, his arms working methodically and evenly. Her heart beat to the rhythm of his movements.
“Well, my dear, a two-pronged approach. I am hoping you will use your charm to convince him of the plan and…” he paused. She glanced to him to see his knuckles tightening on the top of his walking stick, his features stiff.
“What?” she asked nerves bubbling inside her. Whenever he looked like that, he had done something less than honorable.
“The carpenter is Viscount Abernathy, second son in the Fairfield family. Once impoverished, he has had a dramatic change in fortune.” Her uncle took a breath and when he spoke again, it was to whisper. “I spoke with the priest last week. Lord Fairfield brings a strange object with him to London, one that could explain his change in fortune.”
The corners of her mouth turned down. She knew by the way he spoke, her cousin meant that he had hypnotized the priest without permission. She also knew that her uncle believed in real magic, though his own magic was only slight of hand. Did he actually think Lord Fairfield was in possession of a magical object? “The priest told you all that?”
“Well, not on purpose,” he answered evasively but it confirmed her suspicions nonetheless. He had used hypnotism. A new fluttering started in her stomach that had nothing to do with Lord Fairfield’s movement on the scaffolding. Father Byron believed in magical objects? Why else would her Crimson believe it if the priest had not told him so?
“But, we’ll arrange a meeting, get him tickets to a show, supply him with scotch and you see if you can’t…” He stopped as Lord Fairfield looked at them and then began to climb back down the way he had come. He was going to speak with them, Caroline knew it.
The churning in her stomach intensified and she clenched her hands together, pressing them to her midsection. It wasn’t just the impending conversation that had her tied in fits. She knew what her cousin wanted her to do. She was exceptionally good at it. The same inherited skill that allowed her cousin to turn tricks at cards, allowed her to deftly reach into someone’s pocket and relieve them of their belongings.
She was a thief.
Tom jumped down off the last bit of scaffolding and assessed the two people who had been staring at him for the better part of a quarter hour. Normally, he’d think nothing of it but he was here on a rather delicate matter and their intense interest made him wary.
He decided the best tact was the one he usually took, straightforward and to the point. No need to pretend they weren’t openly gawking at him.
He moved closer and toke note of the theatrical older gentleman in a top hat pulled low. His large mustache disguised half his face giving him an air of mystery.
Then his eyes swung to the gentleman’s companion. She couldn’t have been any more opposite to him. Lush brown hair was pulled loosely from her face while large, warm hazel eyes looked at him with a mix of innocence and fear. Her full lips trembled just a touch, as if to convey complete vulnerability. Nothing was hidden, rather, she was wide open for him to read.
Nor was her clothing theatrical. Instead, she was dressed in the latest ladies fashion. Her high-waisted dress accentuating her petite frame.
“Good afternoon,” Tom called to them as he approached.
“And to you, kind sir.” The man’s butter-smooth baritone flowed over him. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance, Lord Abernathy. I am Lord Wainscroft and this is my beloved cousin, Lady Caroline.”
A hint of unease passed over her face. Her adorable little nose crinkled up while her lips turned down and then it was gone, replaced with a wide warm smile that made him feel as though he were the most important man in the world. “My lord,” she replied softly as she curtsied.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he a
nswered. This was not quite the exchange he had expected. Either he had read the situation wrong or there was some subterfuge at play. Then he gave himself a little shake. Clearly recent events had him on edge. Lady Caroline looked to be the most innocent woman alive.
“Forgive us for interrupting your work.” Lord Wainscroft spoke again the in his lilting baritone. “We’ve a show tonight and we would be most honored by your presence.” Wainscroft gestured toward the theater on the other side of the proposed orphanage.
Suddenly Tom understood, they were neighbors to the renovation and most likely looking for assurances that it wouldn’t impact their business. Relief washed through him. Of course, they would be careful to impact the theater as little as possible. “I would be honored, Lord Wainscroft.”
“Oh please, call me Crawley. Crimson Crawley. Little is left but the title itself and this theater, of course. I normally never use the title at all, excepting when introduced to other members of the peerage.”
A pang of sympathy reverberated in his chest. His family had been in that very position not too long ago. Crawley handed him a bill with all the necessary information and then made to wave goodbye.
As Lady Caroline curtseyed, he couldn’t seem to stop the question that rose to his lips. “Will you be in the play as well, Lady Caroline?”
Her cousin laughed, “Oh dear, no. She is the daughter of the earl and was raised among the peerage.”
Tom made to give a nod of understanding but Caroline waved her hand. “It isn’t like that at all.” Her voice was soft like a summer breeze and it filled him with the same warm sentiment. “I haven’t been that person in a long time, and I would happily contribute by acting. But I’ve no skill for it. So instead I must sit in the audience and lead the applause.” She gave him another smile, like the one before. It was so miraculous, he found he had to blink. “Perhaps you could keep me company, in the seats? Cousin Crimson does let me sit in one of the box seats. Wonderful views.”
“I would be honored,” he tried to return the smile but worried that his was not nearly as effective as hers. Never had a smile been so dazzling.
They turned and began walking down the street, for a woman who was small, she was rather shapely, and he couldn’t help but admire the curve of her backside as she walked, her mass of hair glistening in the sun.
The amazing part was that in a crowd, he might not have noticed her. She didn’t have height or striking blonde hair. Her voice was soft and her stance vulnerable rather than commanding. But there was something about her that once seen, couldn’t be denied. It left an impression.
Six hours later, Tom stood in the lobby of the theater, surrounded by members of the peerage. Members he had hoped to avoid, if he were honest.
His brother, Graham, was a Marquess, and travelled in these circles frequently. Graham, always the most charming, would know exactly how to act. His youngest brother, Nick, had spent time in London as well as an apprentice in a shipping company. He wished one of them were here with him now.
A tall blonde snapped her fan as she walked on his left and gave him a coquettish smile just behind it. It held none of the warmth or dazzle of Caroline’s. “Lord Abernathy,” she murmured.
He gave a stiff nod in response having no idea who the woman was.
A gentle touch on his right had him swiveling his head. Lady Caroline stood next to him, looking up at him with that smile. “That was Lady Clara Bigsby.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” he replied drily as he held out his arm to her.
She gave a small laugh, not unlike the sound of a tinkling bell. “You might be. She is regarded as a beauty among the ton. She has many admirers.”
“Do you attend many social events?” he asked looking at her curiously. Her dress was of the latest fashion and her hair perfectly coiffed. But, prior to his change in fortune, he wouldn’t have been welcome at such events and it was the reason for his discomfort now.
“No, but this theater it is a current ton favorite and so I see a great deal.” Her delicate nose wrinkled as she spoke and her chin tilted up to assess him.
They passed by a gentleman on Caroline’s side. He was tall and blond with a perfectly tailored suit to match his striking good looks. His eyes devoured Caroline and the strangest niggling of jealousy coursed through Tom. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to notice Caroline’s quiet beauty.
Caroline’s eyes turned down to the floor, her body shifting closer to Tom’s as the man leered. Tom’s automatic response was to pull her even closer all the while glaring at the other man. He stood at least six inches taller and much broader and the other man’s eyes opened wider in fear before he turned away.
“Who was that?” he rasped out before he cleared his throat.
“That was Lord Somersett.” There was a wariness in her words. She glanced up at him as she spoke and that same vulnerability was in her eyes that he had seen earlier today. So lovely, yet sad.
“The Earl of Somersett?” A renowned rake, the man’s escapades were legendary. Tom wondered if he had made any advances toward Caroline. That same uneasy feeling returned, only stronger. If Somersett so much as lifted a finger in her direction—he stopped himself. She was not his to protect. But she was clever enough to be weary of Somersett. He was sure she and her cousin had the situation well under control. So instead of asking if she needed assistance, he patted her gloved hand that was tucked into his elbow to provide some measure of comfort.
“You know him?” she asked, shifting away again, as though trying to now put space between them.
“Not personally, only the rumors.” He looked back giving Somersett another angry glare, then turned back Caroline. “You are wise to stay away.”
“How did you—“ She stopped, took a breath and then gave him another glowing smile. But, it didn’t quite have the same warmth. He wondered what she’d been about to say and what had caused the change in her demeanor. “Let us talk of something else. Tell me about yourself. Do you visit London often?”
Tom paused for a moment. It wasn’t out of the ordinary that she had changed the subject. They had only just met and of course she wouldn’t want to discuss something so personal. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was getting back on agenda with her question. “Almost never. I find it doesn’t agree with me. I prefer the simpler life of the country.”
She smiled again, only this time there was nothing untoward in it, no pretense, just joy. “Oh I should like to spend time in the country again. I do miss it. London is always so crowded, a crush of people, really.”
It was the strangest feeling, he wanted to offer to take her there. His home, Harlington Manor, had never been lovelier, having recently been renovated. But it was ridiculous to make such an offer. “I agree. The fall foliage is lovely, is it not? Where did you stay when not in the city?”
“I spent most of my childhood in Yorkshire County. My papa travelled often to London but I only went with him occasionally.” They reached the stairs that would take them to their seats. Being narrow, he stopped to allow her to proceed in front of him. She started up the stairs using her hands to gently lift the hem of her gown, he just caught sight of a pretty set of ankles. He clenched his teeth together. Gads, when had he lost control of his mental faculties?
“My home is in Cumbria, or I should say my family’s home. I’ve yet to build my own house.”
Looking over her shoulder, her eyes danced, “Are you waiting for anything in particular?”
She was teasing him. A laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “I suppose a man of my age should have struck out on his own. But honestly, my brothers have been a full-time occupation of late.”
“How so?” she asked joining in his laughter.
“They went and fell in love. Two of them anyhow.” He didn’t even begin to tell the story of Will and Graham’s courtships, which had been fraught with difficulty.
“Oh the horror.” She put her hand to her cheeks as reached the top of the stairs.
&
nbsp; “I know you jest, but ‘tis no laughing matter. Love turned their lives upside down.” His words revealed a great deal but he couldn’t hold them back. It was something he couldn’t say out loud to his family but had been thinking more often. Even with their happy endings, watching them find love had been difficult to say the least. “I hope I haven’t offended you, my lady. I know many a woman who believes in the sanctity of love, but--” He stopped as she shook her head.
“You do not offend. My life has been different from many of my counterparts. I do not look for love but the stability of a marriage and the hope to find my place in this world.” Even in the darkened hall, he could see a blush bloom on her cheeks. She turned her face away, and then entered through curtains to her left.
“Your place?” he asked despite his better judgment. He was prying and he knew it but he couldn’t stop the words. His hand came to curve of her back. His fingers and palm spanned the entire length of it and he had the urge to see how the rest of her body would fit against his if he used that hand to pull her close. But he already took too many liberties so he left it there.
She drew in a long breath and then her words tumbled out in a rush. “I am a lady by name, but I live in a theater. Even before that, I was an orphan and an outcast. I don’t need to be part of the peerage, I just want to belong somewhere.” Her face turned up to his, her eyes pleading with him to understand. And the truth was, he did. Completely and absolutely.
He found himself sharing his own personal history, as though it was perfectly natural to speak like this with a woman he’d just met. He needed her to know that he understood. “I was trained as a carpenter because my father was failing in his barony. He wanted us to at least be able to provide for ourselves. I am the only lord you will see climbing scaffolding.” His thumb brushed her cheek. He shouldn’t be touching her like this. But the darkened box provided the illusion of privacy and he just didn’t seem able to help himself.