by Brower, Dawn
Earl In Trouble
Bluestockings Defying Rogues 4
Dawn Brower
Monarchal Glenn Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Earl In Trouble Copyright © 2019 Dawn Brower
Edits and Cover Art by Victoria Miller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
For everyone who suffered through One Wicked Kiss and wanted to strangle me for that ending. I hope this book makes up for it as you finish Lucas and Lia’s story. They had a long journey but they finally have found a way to their happily-ever-after.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to my editor and cover artist extraordinaire: Victoria Miller. You have helped me along this long and I’ve learned a lot from you. Without you I fear how many mistakes I’d have made in my writing.
Also huge shout out to Elizabeth Evans who helps me with so many things. Thank you for sticking with me through so many writing projects. You’re a gem I never expected to find.
“Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken.”
Emma, Jane Austen
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Excerpt: All the Ladies Love Coventry
Prologue
Afterword
About The Author
Also by Dawn Brower
Chapter 1
September 1823
Lucas Carter, the Earl of Darcy, lounged on a chair in the game room at Weston Manor. The current Duke of Weston, James Kendall, was lining up a shot on the billiard’s table as his good friend, Dominic Rossington, the Marquess of Seabrook, gave him pointers. “You’re going to miss if you keep it at that angle,” Seabrook advised. “I’d move it a little to the left.”
The duke stood to his full height and stared at the marquess through a narrow gaze. “I don’t need your bloody drivel breaking my concentration. Keep your opinions to yourself.” A strand of his dark hair fell over his cerulean blue eyes. He reached up and brushed it away, then returned his attention to the game.
Lucas sighed and held his glass of brandy against his eye. The Earl of Shelby, Gregory Cain, had landed several blows to his face earlier in a scuffle over Shelby’s sister, Lady Samantha Cain. She was a lovely lady, and Lucas had thought she might make a wonderful countess for him. His father was being a trite arse lately and kept insisting he settle down. He had tried to explain that marriage didn’t mix well with him.
At one time it had…
An image of the woman he’d fallen instantly in love with almost a decade ago floated through his mind—Lia… She had soft brown hair highlighted by streaks of gold and red. Her eyes were a brilliant green like an emerald shining in sunlight. He’d never met anyone as lovely as her. They had merely hours together, but it had been enough for him to want to spend the rest of his days with her. She’d been lovely and sweet. At least that was how she’d seemed. Not long after they met, she’d run away, and he hadn’t seen her since. Thoughts of her crept up on him when he least expected it. If she’d stayed…
He shook that away. There was no going back to that fateful winter night, and he had to accept she would never be his. He had no idea where she had gone and had long ago stopped caring. He’d done his due diligence and searched for her—for a couple of years, and then had to face facts. Lia didn’t want to be found, and she most certainly didn’t want him. It didn’t help he only had a first name and a description to go by. For all he knew, she was using a different name entirely.
Lia had made it clear she was hiding from an arranged marriage. He didn’t blame her either. If he didn’t chose a bride soon his father would pick one for him. Lucas wanted to at least like the woman he had to spend his life with—hence his current dilemma and bruised face. He’d taken refuge with the marquess and the duke because Shelby had gone off with Asthey and Harrington to do God only knew what. He honestly didn’t care as long as they all stayed away from him.
Weston took his shot and missed… His cue ball failed to connect with the object ball and then landed in the corner pocket. “I tried to tell you…” Seabrook held up his hands and backed away. “All right, do it your way. I don’t mind winning if you don’t want to listen to sound advice.”
“Bugger off,” Weston ground out. “Maybe Darcy would like a round with you. I’m not in the mood to play anymore.”
That was the last thing Lucas wanted. If it were up to him he’d be left alone to enjoy the entire decanter of brandy in peace. “I’ll pass,” he said. His voice was still a little hoarse after Shelby’s attempt to strangle him with his bare hands. The bloody bastard had a temper on him and an unending overprotective streak. “Though I will take a refill on my brandy.” He wiggled his glass toward Weston. “Care to help a bloke out?”
The duke grumbled something under his breath about not being a servant but refilled Lucas’s glass anyway. “Thanks,” he said with a nod at the duke. “Much obliged.”
Lucas sipped on the amber liquid and tried to forget everything that troubled him, but it all screamed at him inside his head. Lady Samantha would have solved all of his problems. Damn her rotten brother… What did he ever do to Shelby anyway? He thought they got along fairly well. Apparently, Lucas’s judge of a person’s character had gone downhill in the last decade. Ever since he’d met Lia… Why did she continue to haunt him?
“Darcy,” Seabrook nearly shouted his name.
“Wh-What?’ He blinked several times. He had been so lost in his memories of Lia he forgot where he was. Lucas cleared his throat. “My apologies. Did you require my attention?”
Seabrook shook his head as if disgusted with Lucas for some odd reason. What had he done now. It seemed like everything he did lately brought him nothing but trouble. Sometimes it seemed as if he was completely alone in the world. He used to do almost everything with his closest friend, the Marquess of Dashville. Sadly, Dash had gone and married Lucas’s sister and settled down. These days Dash was happy to be a husband and father.
Most of the time Lucas was jealous of what Dash and Helena had together. Their marital bliss could also be nauseating too. He suspected that was because he’d missed his chance at happiness long before Dash had found his. But none of that mattered at the moment. What did was the glare Seabrook had pinned on him. Lucas sighed. “I don’t suppose you’re going to answer me anytime soon?”
Seabrook shook his head. “How hard did Shelby hit you in the head?”
“Much harder than I’d have liked, I assure you. His fists are like bricks.” He brought his hand up to his face and touched the spot beneath his eye. “It’s already black and blue, isn’t it?”
“Don’t worry,” Weston said amicably. “You’re pretty face will be back before you know it.” He gestured toward Seabrook. “He suggested we go for a ride. Since billiards isn’t to your tastes. Care to join us?”
Lucas stared down at his brandy and then drained the contents in one quick gulp. He
would prefer to drink himself into oblivion, but what the hell? Maybe a brisk ride would lift his spirts and deliver him a solution to his current dilemma—he needed a willing bride, and it wouldn’t hurt if she was also pretty, and had a tolerable personality. He didn’t ask for much… “I’d be happy to.” He came to his feet and set his empty brandy glass on a nearby table. A servant would find it at some point and take care of it. “Lead the way, Your Grace.” He nodded at Weston. “Maybe Seabrook can forgive my maudlin mood after he puts his mount through the paces.”
Weston chuckled. “Ignore Dom. He’s surly for an entirely different reason that has everything to do with my sister, his loving wife.”
“Hold your tongue,” Seabrook ordered. “I’d rather not discuss Rosanna, if you don’t mind. Don’t you worry—we’ll be fine. She does love me.” With that last statement, the marquess winked at Weston. “Much like your wife often forgives you the blunders you make.”
There went that jealousy again. He was surrounded by happily married people, and he was sick of it. Whatever happened to the traditional ton marriage where spouses barely tolerated each other? “I thought we were going riding?”
“Quite right,” Seabrook agreed. “It’s good to see you’re finally with us. You weren’t looking too healthy a bit ago. Whatever is troubling you, it must be quite serious.”
“I’d rather not discuss it.” Lucas sighed. “Family stuff.” It was all the explanation he’d give either man. He really hated his father and his autocratic demands. Ever since Helena had married, the bastard had taken all his attention and thrown it at Lucas. He’d been able to sidestep his marriage demands for the past eight years, but now he couldn’t hold the old duke off any longer. The blasted man thought if Lucas didn’t marry and sire a child, then the Montford title would die with him. As far as Lucas was concerned, he didn’t care if it did or not. He didn’t relish the idea of holding the ducal title—even if it meant his father was no longer around to terrorize him.
“All right.” Seabrook nodded his head. “If you change your mind, we’ll be around.” He gestured toward Weston. “He kind of owns the place.”
Lucas laughed. “I have heard that rumor.”
“Very funny,” Weston said sarcastically. “Everyone wants to try and be a court jester these days. Come on, let’s go to the stable.”
Lucas smiled for the first time in days. He was glad he’d made the decision to stay in Dover. Weston Manor had always been like a second home to him, and he’d been good friends with the Kendall twins. Edward had been born first, but died not long after Lucas had met Lia, leaving James with the ducal responsibilities.
He shook his head. In that one thing, he didn’t envy Weston. If he lost his sibling, he wasn’t sure he’d handle it well. Of course, the man had over a decade to be accustomed to the loss. It took time to heal even the worst of wounds…
Either way, it didn’t matter. His sister lived happily with her husband and two children, and was expecting their third. It was Lucas who had to figure out his life and find the answer to all his troubles. Too bad the answer wouldn’t fall in front of him and make things easier.
* * *
Natalia Benson stared at the female she’d been hired to chaperone. Lady Anne Northcott was the worst sort of person. Selfish, egotistical, and so narcissistic she even talked to herself. There wasn’t a mirror around the lady didn’t like. If Natalia didn’t need the funds, she’d have turned down the offer. She’d been on her own for several years now.
“Do you think he’ll like me?” Lady Anne twirled one of her golden locks with her index finger. “I do hope so. I need to marry and fast.”
Natalia rolled her eyes. Why did she put up with the sniveling twit? “I couldn’t possibly say.” And she really couldn’t. She’d stopped listening to Lady Anne’s babbling nonsense moments after meeting her. Whoever the poor sap she’d set her sights on was, Natalia felt sorry for him. No one deserved to marry Lady Anne.
“You’re absolutely no help at all.” If it’d been possible, Lady Anne would have stomped her foot. Hell, maybe she had, but Natalia couldn’t tell. They had been in the carriage for days now. That wasn’t the exact truth. Lady Anne couldn’t bear being in a carriage for more than a few hours at a time. So they stopped. Often. So frequently, a trip that should have taken no more than a day had turned into a week. She must not need to marry as fast as she claimed… Natalia sent up a prayer for patience and reminded herself why she tolerated the insipid lady.
Her cousin Callista was missing. She wasn’t sure where she’d disappeared to and could find no trace of her. It was almost as if she were no longer alive, and perhaps that was the case. She had been doing some rather risky endeavors for the crown during the war, and even several years beyond that. Her cousin had been a spy with one true goal: discovering who had murdered her beloved Edward.
Up until the past few months, Natalia had been in France trying to uncover what had happened to Callista. No one really knew, but they had all come to one consensus. Either the Marquess or Marchioness of Seabrook would be able to answer her inquiry, or perhaps even both could. It was ironic, in a way, that she’d have to come to them for help. Lady Seabrook was Edward’s sister. Natalia hadn’t wanted to trouble the Kendall family for anything. It was bad enough that they’d lost someone dear to them. They didn’t need to concern themselves over the loss of the one family member Natalia cared about.
Though there was one other person Natalia loved, but she stayed away from him. It was for his own good. She had loved him from the first moment she’d met him. The night he’d saved her from a carriage crash during one of the worst snowstorms she’d ever experienced. He was handsome, charming, and had a good heart. He didn’t deserve the troubles she could bring his way. He could be affianced by now. It had been a while since she’d checked in on him. She hadn’t been able to pay for an investigator to gain a more recent report. That didn’t matter though. It was best for him to forget he’d ever crossed her path.
“Are you even listening to me?”
Well, no, she wasn’t. When would Lady Anne realize no one paid attention to her. Why should they? She doted on herself enough for hundreds of people. Natalia sighed. “I’m sorry I was lost in thought. What do you need?” Hopefully it was just another absurd answer that would satisfy her self-important needs.
“We’re almost to Weston Manor.” Lady Anne sat up in her seat, preening like a bird trying to attract a mate. She clapped her hands in an excited manner. “I can’t wait to see him again. I know, he’s been doing his best to avoid matrimony, but he can’t evade the parson’s trap forever. The word around the gossip mill is his father is demanding he choose a bride. I figure why not me? After all, I’d make a perfect duchess.”
“Sure would,” she agreed noncommittedly Lady Anne was the last person who should ever be a duchess. It would give her a reason to act even more selfish than she already did. Lord save the ton if that day ever came… Lady Anne didn’t need any more attention from Natalia after that. It was a good thing too, because she was at a loss for words.
She stared out the window of the carriage, and she’d swear her heart leaped out of her chest. It couldn’t be… Three men were galloping their horses through a nearby field, and one of them struck her as eerily familiar. Lucas…? No… It had always been a risk to come Weston Manor. He had been friends with Edward, but still, she’d hoped he stayed in London. Far away so she didn’t risk temptation. There was no helping it now. She’d have to do her best to stay out of sight and maybe hide amongst the staff. Being a paid companion would make that part a little easier. Perhaps he’d leave soon. The rest of the house party was supposed to have departed already. Drat. Why was he there?
Lady Anne chattered on as Natalia’s world fell apart. When the carriage stopped, she stepped out as if sleepwalking. Blindly following Lady Anne’s instructions until she was free to hide. Her luck was running out. At some point, she’d end up facing Lucas, and there was no explanation go
od enough to save her from his disappointment. Meeting him again was one of her greatest fears, and while she hoped he’d find happiness she also dreaded one day coming in contact with any woman, other than her that gave it to him.
Natalia prayed she’d been wrong, and Lucas hadn’t been one of the men riding in the field, but she didn’t really believe it. He’d haunted her dreams for years, and she’d never forget his handsome face. He was there, and soon there would be a reckoning. One Natalia had been avoiding and would cause the worst sort of trouble for her. Because he would demand answers, and she couldn’t give him any he’d accept. Fate had caught up to her, and she wasn’t nearly ready to deal with it…
Chapter 2
Natalia followed behind Lady Anne as they were shown to the room she’d been given for her use at Weston Manor. As luck would have it, some guests had departed early or there may not have been any accommodations for them. Well, they wouldn’t have been turned away; however, they may have been forced to share a room. It wasn’t unheard of, but Lady Anne would have been even more difficult. She didn’t do well sharing anything, and Natalia would have been miserable.
“Thank Goodness that awful Lady Samantha Cain left with her equally appalling friend Lady Marian Lindsay.” Lady Anne sat down at the vanity in the room and primped in front of the mirror. She pinched her cheeks and pursed her lips. Natalia didn’t quite understand the point of it all, but at least she wasn’t bothering her at the moment. She had enough of her own problems to mull over, and she didn’t need Lady Anne adding to them. “My plan should work, and with them gone I’ll be able to trap the rogue without difficulty.”