Lord Thomas and his bride (The Duke's Brothers Book 3)

by Fiona Miers

“What do you know of this young woman?” Charles asked him. “Other than the fact that she is the daughter of Dr. Morton?”

  “I know she is kind and very good at assisting her father at his rooms. She has a calming voice and demeanour that stopped me from panicking while she sutured my wound. She made me comfortable. And she did not mock me or make me feel foolish for falling.”

  “She sounds lovely,” Abigail said with a smile. “And if you feel you wish to invite her on an excursion, do so.”

  “But do introduce us first,” Robert said. “We would love to meet this young woman for ourselves.”

  “Indeed. And wish her luck, of course.”

  Thomas narrowed his eyes but did not respond to his brothers’ teasing. As the youngest Melton brother, he’d grown accustomed to the mocking, the harassing, and often retaliated in a manner that was more abrupt.

  He’d learned to live with it, but admittedly, it had been much easier to tease Robert and James when they were still unmarried. Abigail and Julia had changed everything, and Thomas hoped that Rebecca was able to do the same for him.

  Hopefully she would agree to hunting for fossils with him, although he was not certain where. He did not have much mobility now and would most certainly have to walk with a cane for a while until it was fully healed.

  One moment of foolishness would possibly mean the end of his treasure hunting days. At least there was a silver lining in the form of a light-haired beauty named Rebecca.

  Chapter Three

  It was quiet at their family dinner table that evening as Rebecca still floated on air after her day with Thomas. The kiss he’d placed on her knuckles had remained scorched into her skin and continued to send a ripple of giddiness through her. Although she tried her hardest not to show it in her father’s presence, of course.

  She was aware that her father felt that young men who acted foolishly while attempting to woo a young woman were, in short... fools. In fact, he had made it abundantly clear on more than one occasion, and he believed she was much too young to be married to a man of such an immature mind.

  “Does that type of behaviour appeal to you, Rebecca?” her father suddenly asked, and she glanced at him blankly.

  She had not been paying much notice to her father while eating dinner, and now he glared at her expectantly, awaiting an answer for which she did not know the question.

  “I beg your pardon, Father. What type of behaviour do you speak of?” she asked.

  Dr. Melton lowered his utensils onto the plate before him and his jaw clenched. “You didn’t hear a single word I said.”

  “My sincerest apologies, Father.”

  “Where is your mind, Rebecca?” he asked, then picked up his fork and waved it in the air before she was able to answer. “And please do not say it is with the young man you met this morning.”

  “Of course not, Father,” Rebecca said and shook her head fervently, though she was outright lying. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “I saw the manner in which he gazed upon you and how he spoke to you. He may seem very charismatic and charming, but he cannot be trusted.”

  “Why is that? What did he do to justify this kind of reaction from you?” she asked, feeling flustered to be caught out so obviously.

  “Not him specifically, my dear. Young, charismatic men such as himself. Their intentions are not at all noble. Worst of all, you seemed enthralled with his words, as though he had bewitched you.”

  She stared at her father, surprised he was so observant, but also not impressed that he judged all men of nobility so harshly. Surely, it wasn’t their fault they didn’t need to work for a living as the doctor did.

  “Father, I would hope you’re not questioning my professionalism. I was merely ensuring that he was comfortable until the duke arrived to collect him. I have provided similar services for many of your patients previously.”

  But even as she said the words, she felt the heat in her cheeks. Surely, her father would know she was lying?

  Dr. Morton cocked his head and drew in a deep breath, but he said nothing further.

  “There is no need to worry, Father. He has not bewitched me. I was merely making conversation with him,” Rebecca said, trying to reassure him that she was not as affected by Thomas as he believed.

  In truth, it was far worse than her father realised. Her infatuation for Thomas grew with every passing moment. She was totally unable to clear him from her mind.

  “He does seem like a nice man, with an interest in fossil hunting,” Rebecca said, trying to interest her father in the lord she had met. “It is not something commonly known.”

  “Fossil hunting? How ludicrous. That cannot be all he does. What of a career?” Dr. Melton asked with a scoff. “Or does being the brother of the duke mean he does not need to earn his money how the rest of us humble people do?”

  Rebecca frowned. “Father, that is not a very nice thing to say. To each their own.”

  She had always thought of her father as being a tolerant sort of person. This was a new side to him she hadn’t seen previously.

  “What does he do all day? Does he scour the limestone caves and cliffs looking for seashells?”

  “Indeed. It sounds rather interesting,” Rebecca said with a nod.

  “And dangerous it seems.”

  “It was only one instance—”

  “That we are aware of,” Dr. Morton said with a huff.

  “Father, I do not understand your concern, since the likelihood of me seeing him again is very low. I am certain the duke has a nurse in his employment and does not require you or me to change his bandages.”

  “I don’t wish for you to engage in dangerous behaviour, Rebecca. Young men such as Thomas Melton cloud the mind of a young woman, and I don’t want that to happen to you.”

  She almost rolled her eyes but stopped herself from showing a sign of disrespect to her parent. “While I can overlook that generalisation of the males of the world, I do not appreciate you considering me a foolish woman.”

  “I will not apologise,” her father said, slamming his hand on the table. “If your mother were here, she would have told you precisely the same thing.”

  Rebecca stared at him for a long while. It had been five years since her mother had passed away, and while she saw the sorrow in her father’s eyes, he rarely spoke of her. Neither of them did. It was still a raw wound that required healing, but the process was long and gruelling.

  Rebecca remembered her mother in her happier times, when she was awaiting the birth of Rebecca’s little brother or sister. The news had come as a big surprise to the entire family when she had fallen pregnant so late after Rebecca’s own birth, but they were all ecstatic.

  Her mother’s time with child was difficult. As though she were slowly drained of life, with every day that passed. The birth was even more terrible. Rebecca hadn’t been in the room, but she remembered the screams, the small, blue infant they had brought out to show her, and soon after, her mother’s passing.

  She lost a brother and mother that day, the worst day of her life.

  This life they now led was not what she had imagined would happen when her mother became pregnant. She had envisioned her mother and father growing old together, raising her and her brother with laughter, warmth and love.

  Things were different now. Cold and empty as the winters here in Weymouth.

  She lowered her gaze for a moment and fought the warm tears that stung her eyes, blurring her vision. She placed her napkin on the table and rose to her feet unapologetically. “Mother would not have called me foolish, regardless of my actions.”

  “Rebecca...”

  She left the table, marching down the hallway and up the narrow stairs towards her second-floor bedchambers.

  Once inside the safety of her room, she closed the door and walked towards the large window overlooking the bay. She had specifically chosen that room for the view.

  She had always adored the beach, and all things in nature. The
scenery in front of her had the perfect blend of both. The bay in the distance, the beautiful blue sky meeting the ocean at the horizon.

  And the cliffs.

  The cliffs that had brought her Thomas Melton, despite his misfortune.

  The young lord had made her feel good about herself with his complimentary words and kind eyes. She had not experienced such kindness and sincerity from a man of such high stature before. Most nobles were crude and abrupt with a simple “Miss” such as herself. They’d certainly never divulged personal details of themselves. Not in the way Thomas had done.

  She knew not to expect to see Thomas again. And even if she did, given their positions in society, she was hardly placed to do more than curtsy to him. There was certainly not any way that would change, but that fact didn’t deter her from thinking of him.

  A smile formed on her lips as she recalled Thomas’ teasing smile and sparkling eyes. He was incredibly handsome, and she doubted that she’d be able to fall asleep tonight with thinking of him. At the same time, she was aware that he would not lose a wink of sleep over her.

  But she was a hopeful dreamer, always had been. And it was the flame of hope in her heart that had helped her to process the death of her mother and baby brother. And she was never giving that part of her personality up.

  THE GENTLE WAVES MET the soft sand of the beach, lapping gracefully along the surface. There was not a soul in sight – apart from Rebecca’s maid – and the stillness of the beach brought forth a feeling of peace within her heart.

  She was seated on a smooth surface of rock, the gentle morning breeze blowing against her face. It was still very early, as the sun had barely broken through the horizon.

  It had been several days since her encounter with Thomas Melton, the young lord who had captured her attention. She was unable to stop thinking of him, although the chances of meeting him again were very slim. Their worlds were different in every aspect imaginable and although it caused Rebecca much frustration, she understood this.

  She glanced at her sketch of the beach, the horizon and the ocean she had drawn, and a smile lifted her lips. She had enjoyed drawing since she was a little girl and her mother had encouraged her, as she had a natural talent for it. However, after her mother’s passing, she had done very little, burying her charcoal and paper away in the depths of her leather trunk.

  Rebecca wasn’t certain whether it had been Thomas who left her inspired enough to seek out her sketching supplies, or something else. But today she felt light in her heart. The heaviness had lifted – not entirely – but she was able to breathe a bit easier.

  She cocked her head as she studied the horizon before working on her sketch of the perfect view in front of her. Her easel was firmly planted into the sand

  A clear-skied morning, not a cloud in sight, and the hope of a new and impactful day that lay beyond the sea. What more could she ask for?

  “Miss Rebecca?”

  Rebecca’s brow furrowed at the sound of her maid’s voice. She glanced at Connie over her shoulder and asked, “Yes, Connie?”

  “Your breakfast is ready.”

  The maid was crouched beside a rug smoothed out on the sand and plates of food rested there now. There was a glass carafe filled with juiced strawberries and other fruit, which Rebecca loved.

  When she had mentioned to her father that she wished to sketch on the beach that morning, her father had been sceptical of permitting her to go alone, hence Connie, the chaperone.

  Although she wasn’t considered a child by the world, her father was still protective of her. His reasoning was that if he lost her, he would have nothing left of value to him.

  She understood his thought process, but at times she wished that he would be a bit more lenient with her. She had vowed to look after her father after her mother had passed, but he should realise that she wished to start her own life and family one day.

  She had never shared that with him, however, and had kept herself away from men with whom her father did not wish her to associate.

  “No man will ever be good enough for Rebecca,” her father had uttered many times.

  This did not bode well for Rebecca, whose thoughts still returned to Thomas Melton, the young man who clearly did not impress her father.

  Rebecca carefully rose to her feet and made her way across the sand towards Connie and her breakfast. As she sat down, a cheerful voice startled them.

  “Good morning.”

  Rebecca’s head snapped to the side and her jaw dropped in disbelief. For a moment she was certain that she was dreaming, as it was not possible for her to be seeing him again.

  “Thomas?” she asked with surprise in her voice.

  “Rebecca,” he said with a smile.

  She rose to her feet and noticed his limp as he walked towards her.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “And by yourself? You should be resting.”

  He stopped abruptly and smiled at her. “It is lovely to see you,” he said calmly, not affected by Rebecca’s scolding.

  “Pardon my tongue lashing, Thomas, but you cannot be walking around unassisted with your injury,” she said.

  “I am not unassisted,” he said.

  At that moment, a manservant appeared with a wooden easel and a leather satchel. “Where would you prefer I set these down, my lord?”

  Thomas glanced in the direction of Rebecca’s easel and motioned to it. “Beside that one.”

  “Very well, my lord,” the manservant said.

  Rebecca’s brow furrowed and crossed her arms. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Well, your easel is in my spot,” he said.

  “Your spot?”

  “Indeed. I usually set it down right there.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him. Impossible. “Is that so?”

  “Absolutely. I have never seen you or your easel on the beach before. Do you come here often?” he asked her.

  “Well, I...” she began to stutter, not certain whether she wished to divulge her personal details to Thomas.

  “Clearly, that is none of my business,” he said with a hint of discomfort.

  “My apologies. It is simply a long and morose tale.”

  “One that we should not investigate in this moment.”

  “Indeed,” Rebecca said and drew in a slow breath. “Would you be interested in having breakfast with me? And Connie, of course,” she added.

  “I would very much like that, Rebecca,” Thomas said and looked at her maid. “You must be Connie.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Here, allow me to assist you to sit, my lord,” the manservant suddenly said beside Thomas.

  He had laid out a rug beside Rebecca’s and placed a basket containing Thomas’ breakfast upon it. Thomas was assisted down onto the rug, and they began to share their meals with one another.

  “I was not aware you are an artist,” Thomas said.

  “That should not come as a surprise,” she said with a shrug. “You know very little of me.”

  “I can say the same about you. But still, you do not strike me as the type.”

  “And why is that?” she asked.

  “You have a nurturing and caring demeanour. Are artists not moody and reclusive?”

  “Are you moody and reclusive?”

  Thomas chuckled and shook his head. “My father would say I am. He was not an artist at all. But he did have his fair share of moody days. Grumpy as well.”

  “You certainly did not inherit that from him,” Rebecca said with a smile.

  “Thank you for the compliment,” Thomas said.

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “Be honest. Did you follow me here?”

  “No, I did not. Truthfully,” he answered with sincere tones. “But I can say that I am happy I decided to visit this particular beach this morning. It is good to see you again.”

  “Indeed.” Rebecca answered, though her heart had leapt up and a lump now stuck in her throat.

  Thoma
s’ eyes were intently focused on hers, and her skin tingled. She still found it immensely surreal that Thomas was beside her, speaking of art and realising how much they had in common.

  Thomas’ mouth turned upwards, and Rebecca could barely contain herself. Of course, she would not dare take Thomas’ hand, or kiss him in front of her maid or his manservant. She could only imagine what her father would say if he were to find out she’d done such a thing.

  “Pardon me, Miss,” Connie said, interrupting their moment.

  Rebecca unwillingly tore her gaze from Thomas and looked at her maid. “What is it, Connie?”

  “We should be going back. Dr. Morton will require your assistance today in his rooms.”

  “But what of Nurse Beckett?” Rebecca asked, trying her hardest not to appear annoyed with her maid.

  “She is unable to come today. A family emergency she told him.”

  Rebecca pouted in disappointment but knew that there would be no way around this problem. Her time with Thomas was once again cut short.

  She sighed. “Very well, Connie. You may pack our things.”

  Connie nodded and Rebecca turned to Thomas. “I am truly sorry. I must be going.”

  “There is no need to apologise. Although, admittedly I had hoped we could spend more time together.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course,” Thomas said. “In fact, would you be interested in joining me on a fossil hunting expedition?”

  Her breath caught in her throat, “To where?”

  “Oh, only at Weymouth bay. The injury to my leg limits the places I can go.”

  “I would love to, granted that my father approves of it.”

  “I am willing to speak to him, if need be,” Thomas said with a gallant smile.

  Rebecca bit her lip and lowered her gaze. It would take much convincing on her part for her father to allow her to join Thomas, but looking at the hopeful expression on his face, she would try her utmost best.

  Chapter Four.

  Rebecca paced along the length of the parlour, her hands clasped together. She’d gone to an unusual amount of care with what she wore and had chosen a light summer dress of soft white cotton and capped sleeves. Her hair was pinned at the crown of her head and her matching summer hat rested on the sofa beside her as she awaited the arrival of the carriage Thomas would send for her.