Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance)

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Regency Romance: An Intriguing Invitation (Historical Billionaire Military Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance) Page 3

by Sarah Thorn


  I will try to explain to the General that he is unwell. I hope I shall be able to prevent his death.

  Her father was a hero. How awful it must have been, seeing men slain in front of him. But he hadn't run away. He also had enough feeling to realize that not everybody was able to handle the horror of it all. And her father a friend of the Duke of Longford? She quickly opened the next letter.

  My Love. As always I love you. May the days until we are reunited go quickly. Being apart from you is too much to beat at times.

  I feel I ought to tell you about John, the Duke, as I left the story unfinished in my previous letter.

  By some miracle, I managed to convince General Parker that John is ill, not a coward. John is to be sent back to England on the next ship. He will go back to Fairfax Hall where I hope he will make a speedy recovery.

  My love, I hope you are managing at Froome Lodge. It is an awfully large property for you to manage alone, in my absence. I promise you when I return I will assist you all I can. Please make sure all our tenants are looked after in this difficult time. And remember if you need money, Anderson and Jenkins are looking after the accounts.

  What was Froome Lodge and who were Anderson and Jenkins? She hastened to the next letter. It was a different color and in her mother's hand.

  My darling husband.

  I hope you are well. Every day I pray to God that he will deliver you free of injury from the terrible war you are fighting. Know that I love you and always will.

  I was very interested to hear your account of the desertion of the Duke on Longford. It was an act of great friendship on your part, speaking to the General and having his sentence commuted. But I fear the Duke doesn't appear to have appreciated it very much. Back here in England, he has spread word that it was you who deserted and he who helped you. Unfortunately, my love, he is a Duke and people seem to believe him. When I go into the village now, people shout insults at me. They call me the wife of a coward and a traitor. Many of the tenants have refused to pay their rent. In fact, my darling, I am at a loss to know what to do. I fear we may lose everything.

  Jane gasped. So they had been well-to-do. Her father had been a man of means. It seemed they'd owned an estate of some sort. In the bottom of the box, there was a grubby single card in plain gray paper.

  Royal Artillery, Woolwich Barracks, London.

  Dear Mrs. Glossop,

  It is with deep regret that I must inform you that your husband has been killed in action. He died in a battle close to the Belgian town of Allery. He was our bravest officer, and he is a great loss to the regiment.

  My condolences

  Captain J.H. Auburn.

  Why had her mother never shown her all this? Why had she kept it hidden from her? She would never know, but she wanted to find out about Froome Lodge. She put the letters back in the box and put her mother's things into a bag.

  *****

  The horse-drawn ambulance came the following morning. They put Jane's mother in a straight-jacket. Jane cried, and screamed at them not to do it, but they insisted she was too violent and needed to be restrained. Jane gave them the bag with her mother's things and kissed her mother on the cheeks. Her mother looked at her vaguely. Jane hoped she didn't know what was happening to her.

  ''I'll come and see you very soon. I love you'' she cried as they slid her into the box like vehicle.

  After her mother had gone, Jane sat in the kitchen and wept. Reading the letters had made her realize how much her mother and father had been through. It must have been an awful time. She busied herself rearranging the lounge where her mother had slept. She would turn it into a nice sitting room again she promised herself.

  The knock at the door was so loud it made her jump. ''Wait, I'm coming,'' she shouted. When she opened it, the Duke of Longford was standing on the doorstep, his carriage and footmen neatly lined up behind him. A few of the villagers were standing around looking at the spectacle.

  ''May I come in?'' he asked.

  ''I have nothing to say to you.''

  He wasn't used to rejection. ''I have something to tell you which I think you will want to know about. It concerns your late father and his property.''

  Jane considered for a few moments and stood aside. ''It's not much of a house for a Duke,'' she said.

  ''Perfectly adequate.''

  ''Come into the kitchen,'' she said. He followed and sat in a Windsor Chair. ''Tell me what you have come to say. I'm busy.''

  The Duke was taken surprised by Jane's indifference to him. ''Very well. I have come to tell you what happened between my family and your father.''

  ''I know what happened,'' she said. ''Your father told everyone my father was a traitor, a deserter. But he wasn't. Your father was.''

  The Duke took off his hat and put it on the pine table. ''Yes. That's correct.''

  ''And you have known about it all these years and done nothing. You let my mother live in poverty.''

  ''No, that's not correct. I didn't find out until recently. My father never told me any of this. I found out completely by accident.''

  ''How?'' Jane put her hands on her hips, like an angry mother.

  ''I asked the estate manager to draw up an inventory of all the properties I own. One on the list was a place called Froome Lodge. It was the only house I'd never heard of, and I was interested to see when it came into the estate.''

  ''Froome Lodge. That was my father's,'' she exclaimed.

  ''Yes. Here are the deeds. It's yours again.''

  ''What?''

  ''It's yours. It does not belong to my family. It belongs to you. I'm giving it back to you. Along with my sincere apologies.''

  Jane stood open-mouthed and looked at the document in her hand. It was new and embossed with her name. A sixteen bedroom house with three thousand acres of land, two hundred and fifty tenants and an annual rental income of twenty thousand pounds. ''What happened?'' she asked. ''Why did my mother give it up.''

  This was the part the Duke dreaded most. ''A man who works at Anderson and Jenkins told me the story. When my father spread the word that your father was a deserter, your mother's tenants stopped paying rent. They simply refused to finance a deserter's wife.'' He began to wring the gloves he just taken off. ''Your father was killed very soon afterwards. My father took advantage of your mother then. He told her he would take over the running of the estate and pay her the rental income, less a fee. What in fact he did, was take over the running of the estate and pay her nothing. He stole it from her.''

  ''But how? You can't just steal a property.''

  ''Well he did. Remember he was the Duke of Longford and your mother the wife of a deserter. No lawyer wanted to help her.''

  ''Now it all makes sense.''

  ''That's why nobody talks to you in the village. And that's why nobody wanted to dance with you at the village Spring Ball. Everyone believes you're a deserters daughter.''

  Jane shot him a confused look. ''How did you know about that?''

  ''I was there.''

  ''No you weren't.''

  ''I was. I saw you. On the village green with your friend and you were very upset.''

  ''Were you spying on me?''

  ''Yes. I'll admit I was. As I said before, I noticed you one evening in the village. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.'' Jane blushed. ''I wanted to find out more about you. I thought perhaps you would be attending the Spring Ball, so I dressed as an ordinary farm hand and went to find out if you had a husband or a suitor. When I found out you had neither, I sent you the invitation. It was a mistake I can see that now.'' Jane looked at him; he was no longer so self-assured.

  ''However, I have corrected as well as I am able, the wrong my father did to you. You have your property back.'' He stood up. ''Anderson and Jenkins are expecting you to contact them. You are rich Jane. I bid you farewell, and I wish you all the best in the future.'' The Duke began to walk to the door.

  ''Wait. Wait.'' He stopped. ''It must have taken a lot of
courage to come here today. You didn't have to give me the property back, but you did. For that, I am very grateful. I.......''

  ''The idea of offering to marry you was insane. Please forgive me. I don't know why I thought it could ever make up for what had happened.'' He smiled, almost laughed. ''It was a ridiculous idea.''

  ''Then why did you consider it?''

  ''Because, Jane Glossop, you are the kind of woman I have always dreamed of. Now, good evening.'' He closed the door behind him.

  Jane kneeled down in the middle of the corridor and looked again at the deeds in her hand. She jumped up and ran to the door. The Duke's carriage had gone. Without shoes, she ran over the green and down the road.

  ''My Lord. A woman is running after us,'' a footman shouted through the carriage window.

  ''What does she look like?'' the Duke asked?

  ''Quite beautiful.''

  ''Stop. Stop now,'' the Duke ordered. He got out of the carriage and stood in the middle of the road as Jane ran, barefoot, towards him.

  When she reached him, she was breathless. He waited patiently until she could speak. ''My Lord......I..........I........thought about.............what you said.......about me.''

  ''What exactly?'' he asked.

  ''The part when you told me I'm the kind of woman you've always dreamed of.''

  ''Yes. I'm sorry. Very embarrassing.''

  ''No, no,'' she was beginning to recover from her sprint. ''No, I liked it. I liked what you said, very much.''

  ''Well, thank you for telling me. My carriage is waiting, I must.....''

  ''No, you don't understand. I'm asking you to court me.''

  He laughed. ''Court you?''

  ''Yes, I would like to know you better.''

  ''Why?''

  ''Because I too find you attractive in many ways. I would like to know you better. With a view to a future alliance.''

  ''Do you mean marriage?''

  ''Perhaps. Yes.''

  ''Splendid. This has turned out to be a much better day than I thought. Driver, take the carriage back to Fairfax Hall and come back for me in the morning. I will be staying at the inn this evening.''

  *****

  Jane wasn't sure whether she should or not, but her reputation in the village was already poor, and her mother was no longer at home. So she did.

  Lying naked under the Duke, she felt truly feminine for the first time in her life. As he made love to her, she held his arms and kissed the side of his face. He whispered loving things to her, his thrusts increasing in intensity. Jane opened to him and wrapped her legs around his strong back. When she felt his body tighten, hers began to shake. Soon she felt a warmth flowing into her and the first orgasm she had had with a man crashing over her.

  He didn't want to move from her. He remained inside her for as long as he could, placing kisses on her face and neck. When the moment came, he slipped from her but kept his body intertwined in hers.

  They didn't speak for a long time. He broke the silence. ''Your mother has been moved to Fairfax Hall.''

  Jane sat up. ''What?''

  ''I am President of the Board of Governors at the Sanitarium, and although we do our best, it remains a grim place. It pained me to see your mother there. I thought it may be a pleasant surprise for you to know that you mother will have her own room in Fairfax Hall. I have employed a full-time nurse and the services of an expert doctor. I am not saying she will recover, but she will be more comfortable.''

  Jane leaned her head on his chest and listened to his heart. ''You're a good man.''

  *****

  Jane's mother lived for a year in Fairfax Hall before peacefully slipping away. Jane and the Duke married and lived some of the time in Froome Lodge and some of the time in Fairfax Hall. Jane told her children what had happened to their grandparents. Her two boys always fought over which of them would be the brave grandfather when they reenacted the battles he fought in.

  *****

  THE END

  Table of Contents

  REGENCY Romance - An Intriguing Invitation

  MAIL ORDER BRIDE - A Bride’s Heart

  SPORTS Romance – Rough Play

  BILLIONAIRE BOSS Romance – Bought by the Boss

  BWWM Romance - The Russian’s Secret Love Child: Octavia’s Story

  CLEAN REGENCY Romance Collection – Dashing Dukes

  MAIL ORDER BRIDE Collection – Western Brides

  REGENCY Romance - A Duchess in Distress

  REGENCY Romance - A Duchess in Distress

  REGENCY ROMANCE - A Rake’s Revenge

  REGENCY Romance - A Duchess in Disguise

  MAIL ORDER BRIDE - A Bride’s Heart

  Chapter One

  Margaret didn’t know how to feel as she watched the landscape pass quickly by. The train’s window had a small handprint on the inside near to her. She wanted to clean it off but had nothing to use. Her mother had pressed it upon her that she needed to be a clean and tidy young lady and that no husband would ever respect her as a woman if she was a slob. She hadn’t spent a day in her life looking unkempt. Her mother would never have allowed it.

  Margaret pulled her feet up under the bench and locked them at the ankles. Her hands were folded neatly over her satchel, which she held in her lap. She was gripping the handle as if the bag wanted to jump off her lap and run away on invisible legs. When she realized she had such a tight grip, she relaxed her hands and splayed her fingers a few times to stretch them.

  While doing so, she met eyes with a young man across the way from her. He nodded at her, tipping his hat. She nodded back and lowered her eyes. She didn’t know him and she was on her way to meet her new husband. It would look very bad for her to be seen speaking with a young man she didn’t even know.

  She brought her eyes back up and looked through the window again. She would have sworn it was just raining out there. Now it looked like they were passing through a dry desert. Seconds later, the scene was completely blocked as they went through a tunnel that had been dug right through the middle of a mountain.

  Margaret felt a bit of apprehension but shook it off. Her family was centered on people with strong back bones. Her father had begun teaching her at the age of seven to be one of the best horse breeders and trainers there was in all of England…or at least their little Meadowbrook Village area. When he had immigrated with his family to America, he had brought his business and his love for horses with him. These were traits he never had to try hard to instill in his only daughter.

  Margaret had never wanted for anything and had always known if there was anyone she could count on in life, it would be her father. She was proud and had a high level of self-esteem. Her strong countenance and narrow stare had been known to shut the dirty mouth of the sailor and quiet the screaming child, one the same as the other. She also had a strong faith in God and often called upon Him to help her through the trials and tribulations of life.

  This would have made it rather odd that she would be responding to an ad in the paper for a bride to come to the West and join a stranger in matrimony. And it was true that she had initially been against it. But the more her father talked about it, the more she had become convinced it was the right thing to do. She was advancing in age and she needed to make sure she had a family to carry on the family business. Her two brothers would not be able to take over when their father passed on. One had died in the war and the other was not interested in horses in the least. The only use Margaret had for him was that he was swiftly able to convince their father just to let a woman take over – or at least marry her off to someone who would do it.

  Margaret would have preferred to take over the business on her own. But there was little to no women running any businesses anywhere in America, and if they were running the business, they had a man’s name (usually their husband’s) out in front for everyone to see.

  Margaret would be 29 in a few months and her advancing age had been one of the valid points her father had mentioned in order to get her to do this.
She needed a family more than she wanted one - but she did want one. She let him know that she had been thinking of a family of her own for some time.

  Finally, she had given in and boarded the train after communicating with a man in Nevada named Mark Brooks, who was living in a tiny established property called Las Vegas. There were only a few hundred people there, maybe a bit more. Margaret’s village in England had room for about 1000 before it began to break into sections.

  The ad had requested a woman of average height and weight with a strong back and a love for horses. She definitely met those qualifications. The groom, Mark, said he was looking for a bride who would share his interests.

  If Mark’s interest was in horses, Margaret was definitely answering the ad.

  Through their letters, Margaret had explained that her father had brought her from England when she was young. Mark had told her that he had once already had a family – a wife and two children, one of each – but that they had been killed in a raid by hostile Indians. It had been nearly ten years and he was tired of being alone. The women he knew, within his circle of friends, were few and far between and so far, none had shared his love for horses.

  Margaret was also interested to read that he attended church regularly. Most people did, she noticed, but few mentioned it in passing, as part of an introduction to themselves. Mark had not only made mention of it but told her politely that she would be required as his wife to attend with him.

  She thought it was a bit strange that he should say such things but shrugged it off, wanting to know more about him as a person before making any judgments. Of course she would go; she would be happy too, as a matter of fact. It was also a practice she and her father shared. They had rarely missed a day, even after her mother and brother passed away and her second brother stopped attending.

 

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