by Lisa Follett
One True Love
by Lisa Follett
Lord William Prescott is in want of a wife.
Unfortunately, the lady he wants is betrothed.
Miss Cassandra Chambers simply cannot understand her attraction to Lord William. After all, she is supposed to be in love with Mr. Miles Parker. In a scandalous twist of fate, Cassie’s future changes when Lord William rides to her rescue, saves her from ruin, and makes her his wife.
When William comes to believe Cassie’s heart may always belong to another, he is determined to lock away his own. If only he could lock away his desire for his One True Love.
© 2011 Lisa Follett
All Rights Reserved.
Table of Contents
Dedication
To my one true love –my husband. I love you forever.
A special thanks to Elizabeth, my dear friend and editor.
Chapter One
Lord William Prescott touched the ring in his pocket. Another refused proposal to add to his list, yet, he refused to believe in a silly curse.
“William, why do you look so melancholy tonight?” Mary startled him out of his thoughts. The drawing room buzz went quiet. His siblings thought the curse particularly amusing. He had suffered their teasing since he was in leading strings, but he did not think he could bear it tonight.
“Did Miss Peterson refuse your suit?” asked Jane. He decided the real curse upon his head were his four pesky sisters.
“She refused.” His hand slipped back into his pocket.
“Twelve rejections. I do not know how you bear it, dear William.” Anne’s eyes twinkled while she squeezed his arm in sympathy.
“The curse is your destiny –your fate. It is such a shame. You would make a wonderful husband and father.” Elizabeth’s smile reached her dark eyes. He knew she teased, but tonight it cut deep.
Simply because every woman he courted refused his suit, or managed to get themselves in a compromising position with someone else, did not prove the curse existed. Did it matter that Lady Charlotte Manvel ran off to Gretna Green with Viscount Martindale the same night she rejected his proposal of marriage? Surely, no one would believe such a thing, simply because Miss Martin fainted dead away when he appeared on her doorstep with a bundle of flowers in his hand. And really, how could anyone associate the curse with Lady Fiona Berkeley’s tendency to run and hide whenever he came near?
“A man’s lot in life, his fate, his destiny, is made by his own actions and reactions, not by some ancient tragic tale.” William took a swallow of his brandy. “Just because every second son since the third Marquis of Camberley lived life alone, did not mean it was because of a curse. If anything, each of my predecessors used the curse as the perfect excuse to stay a bachelor.”
“And you should follow in your predecessors footsteps if you ask me.” James, his notorious rake of a brother chuckled in his brandy. At this rate, he would be in his cups before dinner was served.
“I did not ask you,” said William.
“Tsk, tsk, no need to be so testy. I do not understand why you are so determined to marry,” said James.
“Marriage is an honorable institution James,” said Elizabeth.
“If it is so honorable then why are you so firmly upon the shelf, sister?”
Elizabeth paled. At nine and twenty, she much preferred her writing to finding a husband. His entire family, with the exception of himself, avoided the marriage shackles. The only one who needed to marry was Stephen, the heir to the Marquis of Camberley.
“James, really! Mind your manners,” his mother, Lady Camberley scolded her youngest son. “I am sorry, William. I thought Miss Peterson would surely come up to scratch.”
“At this rate England is going to run out of eligible young ladies, and widows, and spinsters. Perhaps you should go to the continent to find a wife, or America,” said Stephen.
“Perhaps I might.” William finished off his brandy and stood up. He felt restless and needed to move. He looked out the front window in time to see a carriage stop in front of the house. “It appears the new vicar and his family has arrived.”
“About time, I am starving,” said James.
He watched as an older balding man with a paunch belly and spectacles on his face stepped out of the carriage. The man’s dour expression left little to recommend his Sunday sermons. He had yet to meet the new vicar since he recently moved into his own home over an hour away. The vicar turned and helped down an overlarge woman with curling gray hair and a jolly smile on her face. They seemed a rather odd pair. He could only assume the woman was the man’s wife.
“Poor souls –to be thrust in the midst of a Prescott family supper. What will they think?” he muttered.
“What did you say, William?” asked his mother.
“Nothing.”
Mary leaned against him to peer out the window, “I heard that.” She piled her hair on top of her head tonight in waves of dark loose curls that matched her chocolate colored eyes. They shimmered with laughter. “Now you behave yourself, William.”
“Me behave? Look who is calling the kettle black, you little hellion.”
“I am not a hellion Lord William Spencer Prescott. I am independent!” Mary huffed and turned away from the window. He laughed at his twin, the mischief-maker of the family.
He turned back towards the window and froze. The air whooshed from his lungs as he watched an angel alight from the carriage. “Who is the young woman with the vicar and his wife?”
Elizabeth peered over his shoulder. “That would be Miss Cassandra Chambers, the vicar’s eldest daughter.” She gave him a quizzical look, as if trying to decide whether or not to say something more.
“She is quite a beauty,” said Jane from across the room.
“Intelligent and witty as well,” said Anne.
“Yes, too bad she is already betrothed William,” said Mary.
Of all the damnable luck! He shook his head and peered into his empty glass. He needed a refill. He moved away from the window and waited for the vicar’s family to enter the drawing room.
A few moments later William sucked in his breath when she came through the doorway. The candlelight bounced off her golden curls and shone like the fairy dust from one of Elizabeth’s stories. Her lush pink lips curved up and the world melted away. God, she was beautiful.
“William, do come and meet our guests.” His mother turned to the vicar. “I believe you have met everyone except my son, Lord William Prescott. William, this is Mr. Joseph Chambers.”
He shook the vicar’s hand. “I am pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Lord William, may I present my wife, Mrs. Chambers.”
“Mrs. Chambers.” He took her gloved hand and raised it to his lips for a light and proper kiss of air, but his eyes strayed to her daughter.
“And this is my daughter, Miss Cassandra Chambers,” said the vicar.
“Miss Chambers.” He took her hand, and lifted his gaze to her eyes, large green pools in which he could simply drown. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Her smile lit something inside of him. He kissed her hand, holding on a fraction too long. He did not want to let go. Their eyes locked for a brief moment before she spoke.
“My lord,” her silky voice shivered down his spine to the lower regions of his body. When she curtsied, he caught a glimpse of her milky white skin against her properly cut bodice hiding what appeared to be delectable round breasts. He moved his eyes to her face before anyone noticed his brief moment of impropriety.
Her rose silk gown clung to her generous curves and gave her cheeks a pink glow. She had the face of an English rose, slightly round and angelic, and topped with a pert little nose. Something tugge
d at his heart, but alas, he did not have to feel the pain of her rejection. She could not be his.
The weight of the blasted curse crashed around him and roared inside his ears. He would find the perfect wife, his one true love, despite the curse, his family’s infernal teasing, and the ton’s vicious harpy gossips. He would follow his parent’s example and find happiness.
His parents enjoyed a marriage beyond the pale of polite Society. They actually loved each other. Six children later and they still acted as if they were in the first blush of love.
The butler announced that dinner was served. William offered Miss Chambers his arm. The warmth of her presence wrapped around him like a fur-lined coat on a winter night. He mentally scolded himself for acting like a besotted fool, but when he looked upon her face, he could not help but feel an attraction, which ran deep into the well of his soul.
He looked ahead and reminded himself of her betrothal, muttering under his breath, “Damn the curse!”
“I beg your pardon, Lord William?”
***
Cassie peered out the carriage window as it rumbled down the long drive to Nightingale Hall. The u-shaped mansion dwarfed the land with its sheer size, columns, and towers, like a castle she once read about in a book. The combination of wild nature, and perfectly manicured lawns of the surrounding park left her feeling as if she tumbled into a magical world.
The inside of the house did not disappoint her imagination. Cool white marble floors and painted cherubs on the rotund ceiling in the entryway delighted her senses, and the cozy round entrance surrounded by tall Roman Columns reminded her of a gazebo. The butler escorted her family down a wide hallway awash in candlelight from wall sconces, and graced with dozens of paintings from portraits to landscapes. She wished she could take the time to stop and study the masterful art, but she hardly caught her breath before they entered a drawing room like no other. Spacious and filled with members of one of the most elite families in all of England, she arched her neck to see the faces in a forest of towering Prescotts.
Cassie knew her sister would expect to hear every detail of the evening. Unfortunately, Jocelyn took to her bed, plagued with a head cold. How could she possibly describe how her slippers sank into the burgundy and gold Aubusson carpet in the drawing room, or how the soft tan colors of the walls trimmed in a green the color of the darkest forest made the room seem brilliant? The drawing room was filled with the finest furnishings, a grand piano she knew her mother would covet, a fireplace higher and deeper than the tallest Prescott, and dozens of candles. Perhaps she entered a dream rather than a drawing room.
Her pulse quickened and a frisson of awareness stirred inside her when Lord William bent over her hand during their introduction. “Miss Chambers,” his deep masculine voice sent a shiver down her spine all the way to her toes.
She found herself drawn to his hard, angular face that softened into a boyish grin when he smiled –a grin that stole her breath away. Dark chocolate eyes collided with her own and she nearly melted from the heat. His thick brown hair with golden lights fell over his eyes, and she had the oddest desire to brush the locks away from his face.
The effect this man had on her startled her sensibilities. She prayed he did not notice the heat that surely crept up her neck and tinged her cheeks with a crimson glow. Why did a mere stranger unsettle her so?
Before she had a chance to ponder these disturbing thoughts, the butler announced that dinner was served, and Lord William offered his arm to escort her into the dining room. A warm, tingling sensation moved through her hand and pooled in her belly, and below. The oddest need to squeeze her thighs together and cut off an abrupt ache overcame her.
Cassie noticed the strength of Lord William’s arm and his wide, muscular chest; not soft, like some men, like Mr. Parker. Why did she suddenly think of her betrothed as soft? What an odd mental image; after all, Mr. Parker was handsome, and charming, and utterly delightful. How fortunate for her to catch a future viscount who also made her positively giddy when he smiled at her. He even kissed her once when they took a walk in the gardens. She wanted him to kiss her again, or longer, or with more passion, but instead, he offered his arm and escorted her back inside the house.
How would Lord William’s lips feel against hers? Oh dear. She really should not consider such a thing. She only just met Lord William, and to begin comparing him with her betrothed was surely the height of impropriety, even if the improper conduct was contained to her private thoughts. Perhaps she really should stop reading Mrs. Radcliff’s novels.
She shifted her unsettling thoughts to her host and hostess. Lord and Lady Camberley were quite different from any married couple she knew. They actually appeared to be in love. She noticed the secret glances and small touches. She believed her own parents cared for each other, but never once did they appear to share a romantic love. She often wondered how they managed to conceive two children. If anything, they spoke to each other in the most redundant way, only speaking when necessary, and making small conversation at best. They never touched, or smiled, or caught each other’s eye. They simply were.
Cassie’s eyes widened as they entered a grand formal dining room. The entire first floor of her home could fit into this one room. She was fortunate to visit a few of the larger manors of aristocrats who sought her father’s spiritual company, but never before had she experienced the grandeur of an estate like Nightingale Hall. Flower arrangements, candles, Sevres china, and crystal topped the formal cherry wood dining table. Tapestries hung from floor to ceiling, depicting scenes from medieval times, and low hanging crystal candelabras reflected prisms of color throughout the room. A fireplace burned at one end of the room, and a buffet of dishes with tangy and sweet aromas filled the air on the other end.
William’s voice startled her out of her deep rambling thoughts as he pulled out her chair for her to sit. “It appears you are to sit next to me.” She tried to sit gracefully and not plop, feeling the eyes of her mother watching her, expecting her to act every inch the lady. Her mother smiled and turned towards Lord Camberley. “Miss Chambers,” William started as he took his seat, “How do you like our quaint little village thus far?”
“It is positively charming.” She smiled and thought of her new, but temporary home, since she was betrothed to Mr. Parker. The cottage was roomier than the family’s former house in Cornwall. Indeed, her father took a step up when he agreed to take this position. His pay afforded them not only a housekeeper and cook, but a footman and butler as well. The countryside took her breath away, and so far, the neighbors were gracious and kind.
Cassie’s only shame fell in her inability to see Mr. Parker until their wedding drew near. He went to London to speak to his uncle, the Viscount Winnington, about their upcoming nuptials. The disappointment of not seeing him until their wedding lodged in her stomach like coddled egg that sat too long. Her betrothed wanted to give her the wedding of her dreams. She only hoped the viscount would be biddable.
The conversation began with the usual pleasantries of weather and local gossip. She felt comfortable with Lord William, in an unnerving sort of way. Mr. Parker always made her feel nervous and as shy as a schoolgirl. How strange to fall into such contented talk with a man, a stranger, no less, as if they had known each other for an eternity.
“Now, I must warn you about developing too close of a relationship with Lady Mary. She will certainly lead you astray and ruin your reputation.” William grinned across the table at his twin sister as he teased her.
“William dear, you are lucky indeed that four feet of table separates us, for if I were closer I would bean you on the head. Miss Chambers, you must completely ignore my obnoxious brother. He delights in my grief.” Lady Mary eyed her brother with a look that spoke of a closeness only known and understood by two who were born of the same womb at the same time. The light manner in which they teased and played warmed Cassie’s heart, and it caused her to wonder what it would be like to have such a large family. Of course
, Lady Mary was a bit outspoken and rather outrageous, but she admired her courage to thumb her nose at Society and live as she pleased.
The amusing banter continued on all sides. Lady Elizabeth sat to her right, William on her left, with Lady Mary and Lady Anne across from her. The family chatted back and forth down the stretch of endless table. Her father seemed jollier than his usual somber self, and it was rather obvious mother enjoyed the company of such a prestigious group, but it was the gentleman to her left who kept her attention. She glanced at his aristocratic profile: strong chin, lush lips, straight nose, and large eyes. Her hand itched to reach up and touch a finger along the edge of his jaw. Oh my! She really did need to get control of her thoughts. She envisioned Mr. Parker’s hair. Short. Straight. Thin.
Cassie pursed her lips. Will Mr. Parker lose his hair early? She thought he might and considered how she felt about being married to a man with a balding head. She nearly laughed aloud at her own silly ponderings. She loved Mr. Parker, and assumed she would love him still when he became bald and round in his old age. She only hoped he would still love her when she grew fat with their first child.
“So, you are to be married soon.” William looked at her with such an intensity, she nearly spit out her wine. The cool February evening suddenly seemed as warm as a summer day. For the first time since Mr. Parker proposed, she did not want to discuss her upcoming nuptials.
“I…ah, yes, I am, my lord.” The words jumbled in her mouth and made her feel quite ridiculous. “In June. I am to be married in June.” Her reaction to his question stunned her. She laid a hand on her churning stomach. The sudden nausea could not be due to his question, or could it?
“I have never met Mr. Parker, although I did meet Lord Winnington once. He is rather old and crabby if you ask me.” William took a bite of his dessert, raspberries and cream, then licked the remains from his lips. She should have been shocked by his comment. It was beyond the pale. Instead, she was fixated on his mouth and the sweep of his tongue across his lips. What it would be like if he kissed her?