by Cheryl Bolen
Praise for To Take This Lord:
"Bolen's writing has a certain elegance that lends itself to the era and creates the perfect atmosphere for her enchanting romances." – Romantic Times
"Does a wonderful job building simmering sexual tension between her opinionated, outspoken heroine and deliciously tortured, conflicted hero." – Booklist
"5 Stars – highly recommended." – Huntress Reviews
"Sexual tension sizzles." – Happily Ever After
"An emotionally compelling novel that kept me reading well after midnight." – In Print
"A pleasant completion to the Brides of Bath series." – The Best Reviews
Cheryl Bolen’s Books
Regency Historical Romance:
The Brides of Bath Series
The Bride Wore Blue
With His Ring
The Bride’s Secret
To Take This Lord
Love In The Library
A Christmas in Bath
Brazen Brides Series
Counterfeit Countess
His Golden Ring
Oh What A (Wedding) Night
Miss Hastings’ Excellent London Adventure
Marriage of Inconvenience
House of Haverstock Series
Lady by Chance
Duchess by Mistake
Countess by Coincidence
Ex-Spinster by Christmas
The Regent Mysteries Series
With His Lady's Assistance
A Most Discreet Inquiry
The Theft Before Christmas
An Egyptian Affair
The Earl's Bargain
My Lord Wicked
His Lordship's Vow
Christmas Brides (Three Regency Novellas)
Marriage of Inconvenience
A Duke Deceived
Romantic Suspense:
Texas Heroines in Peril Series
Protecting Britannia
Murder at Veranda House
A Cry In The Night
Capitol Offense
Falling For Frederick
World War II Romance:
It Had to Be You (Previously titled Nisei)
American Historical Romance:
A Summer To Remember (3 American Romances)
To Take This Lord
(The Brides of Bath, Book 4)
Cheryl Bolen
Copyright © 2011 by Cheryl Bolen
To Take This Lord is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is dedicated to my precious son, Bo,
who (regrettably) shares his mother's disdain
for the mundane. Your father and I hope you
soar on the wings of your dreams.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
The Brides of Bath Series
Prologue
Blanks had revisited every schoolboy prank he and George – now Lord Sedgewick – had ever instigated. Anything to keep George's mind off the grim lying-in taking place beyond the door to Lady Sedgewick's bedchamber. It had taken all Blanks's efforts to keep George from storming into his wife's rooms when he heard Diana moaning in pain.
No matter how amusing Blanks was, George could scarcely attend to his words. A chilling, foreboding fear like nothing he had ever experienced gripped him. He thought back to when Diana had given birth to their first, Georgette. The attending physician had deemed it a remarkably simple birth in spite of the nine hours his beloved Diana had writhed in pain.
It was said the second one would come quicker, but already it had been ten hours, and there was no sound of a babe.
With sickening apprehension, George was coming to believe something had happened to the babe. As disappointing as that would be, he could accept it. He could accept anything except losing Diana. The very thought of Diana dying caused his stomach to restrict and left him feeling strangled of all life. He could not bear even the contemplation of it,
He looked up at Blanks and said, his voice splintering, "Something's wrong." As soon as he said it, he wished he could retract his words. Poor Blanks would be a father for the first time before the month was out, and George had no business alarming his friend. For Blanks was as besotted over his wife–George's sister Glee–as George was over Diana. If that were possible. Though George was convinced no one could love anyone as much as he loved Diana. Never had a more perfect, more beautiful creature graced the planet. Not even his sisters, Felicity and Glee, could compare.
"You're just imagining things," Blanks said. Though Blanks attempted a reassuring voice, his own fears caused his voice to crack.
George turned when he heard footsteps mounting the stairs, and he saw Felicity's blond hair. She was accompanied by her husband, Thomas Moreland. George could never look at Moreland without being struck by the resemblance between him and Diana, Moreland's sister.
"Do we have a baby yet?" inquired Felicity, her face lifting into a smile.
George sighed. "Not yet. I'm frightfully worried."
Felicity set a gentle hand on his arm. "Don't worry. She'll be fine. I'll go check on her right now." Then she disappeared into the viscountess's chambers.
A quick glance at Moreland caused George to become even more upset. For Diana's brother's face had become ashen. Thomas pulled up a Chippendale chair and sat beside George and Blanks. "How long's it been?"
George swallowed. "Ten hours."
Thomas's brows lowered. "I had thought it wouldn't take so long the second time."
"That's what I thought," George said.
The door to Lady Sedgewick's room squeaked open, and George looked up to gaze at Felicity. And his heart sank. Tears streamed from her blue eyes.
George leaped to his feet. "What is it?" he shouted. "Is it Diana?"
She slowly nodded, then she burst into tears.
George did not hear Moreland's hoarse scream or Blanks's sharp intake of breath. He had entered his wife's dark chamber. He ignored his very-increasing sister Glee, who stood clutching Diana's hand, tears flowing unchecked down her face.
They had to be wrong! Diana couldn't be dead! He reverently approached her canopied bed and looked down at her lily white face, her dark hair damp around her temple, her long lashes closed as if she were asleep. Even after all this time, his heart clenched whenever he beheld her gentle beauty.
For a few hopeful seconds he allowed himself to believe her alive. His beautiful wife was merely asleep. With tears pooling in his eyes, he we
nt to caress her face with his palm. As soon as his flesh touched her cold skin, he knew. A primeval sound broke from him. "No-o-o-o-o!"
He drew her limp body into his arms and sobbed.
He must have held his precious Diana to him for an hour before Glee urged him to let her go. "You must come and see your son, George," she whispered.
With one last racking sob, George let go of Diana's lifeless body and whirled at his sister. "I want no part of the babe! He killed his mother!"
Then George stormed from the chamber.
Chapter 1
"I declare, Sally, the only time my poor nephew doesn't cry is when you're present," said Glee, who was plaiting the hair of her own little toddler, Joy.
Sally Spenser dropped a kiss on little Sam's golden ringlets and continued to rock him. She told herself she had become attached to the little tyke because he had never known a mother's caress. More likely, Sally's affection for Sam was fed by his own father's scorn for his innocent son.
Sam's father, George Pembroke, the Viscount Sedgewick, was undoubtedly the most exasperating man Sally had ever known. His lack of interest in his heir was unforgivable. His propensity for tipping a cup too much was irresponsible. His predilection for gaming was unwise. And his taste in poetry was nonexistent. In short, there was not a single thing about the viscount of which Sally approved. They could not be in the same chamber together for five minutes without clashing.
Why, then, had she adored him for half of her two and twenty years? Ever since she and Glee had become best friends while attending Miss Worth's School for Young Ladies, Sally had worshipped Glee's elder brother. It wasn't as if George had ever given Sally a crumb of encouragement. Quite the contrary. The viscount had never had eyes for any woman on earth save his beloved wife Diana, who had been dead these two years past.
It hurt Sally to see George descend further into the grim valley of grief he had dug for himself since Diana's death. It was evident he had no desire to live. There was no longer any joy in his life, save his love for his daughter, who bore a striking resemblance to her mother.
"I'm so happy you've come to Bath," Glee said to Sally. "Not just because I love you so dearly and am so thoroughly happy to see you—but because poor little Sam needs you. I've become quite concerned about him. He doesn't speak at all, and Joy—who's a week younger than he—is already talking in sentences."
Sally bristled. "Mama said girls always talk before boys do. She also said to never compare children for they each develop at a different rate, but they all get to the same place sooner or later."
Glee sighed. "I hope you're right—about boys speaking later. I worry so about Sam. I keep wondering if I'm doing the right thing by allowing him to continue under George's roof. My brother is such a brute! I truly believe Sam would be better off with me—except, of course, for missing his sister, whom George would never give up." Glee removed her daughter from her lap, stood her up, and gave her rump an affectionate swat. "I want Sam and George to grow close, and the only way that can happen is if George has to be responsible for him."
"You have no reason to feel guilty," Sally said. "George does need to exercise his paternal responsibilities." She lovingly ran her fingers through Sam's tresses. "Surely one day George will realize how precious Sam is."
Sally reached down to clasp Sam's bare feet. "This little piggy," she began. The little boy sat up and squealed with delight. By the time Sally had finished grabbing each of Sam's chubby, curled toes, he was giggling.
Then his sister strolled into the room, a great, fat fluffy gray cat in her little arms. Sam scooted off Sally's lap and ran to take the cat from his sister. The cat, which was obviously immune to Sam's clumsy abuse, was almost as big as Sam. Sally was pleased that Georgette was willing to share her pet with her little brother.
Joy, her little legs churning, ran over to her female cousin. "See? Mama made my hair pretty. Like the maiden in the book."
Georgette hopefully looked from Joy to Glee. "Will you plait my hair, too, Aunt Glee?"
"I should be happy to, Georgette. Come here," Glee said, stretching out her arms.
Sally stared at Georgette. Though her name was a variation of her father's, she was all Diana.
Sally still remembered her own grief when she had learned George had become betrothed to Diana Moreland. How painfully difficult it was to abandon her dream of growing up and capturing George's heart. At first Sally was convinced George was shackling himself to Miss Moreland for her enormous dowry.
Then the seventeen-year-old Sally met the nineteen-year-old Diana. And Sally was even more devastated. Of course George would love Diana! She was not only wealthy, but elegant, gracious, and beautiful. Like her daughter was now. Georgette was tall for a four-year-old. Her mother had been tall, too. And Georgette was very fair of face with rich dark brown hair and eyes. Just like Diana.
After Glee finished braiding Georgette's hair, she sent the children off with their nurse, then turned to her dear friend. "Now you simply must tell me what brings you back to Bath so soon after you arrived at your brother's house. What has he now done to cause you to be so out of charity with him?"
Sally, who was on her knees picking up after the children, sighed. "He all but promised my hand in marriage to the odious Mr. Higginbottom."
"Pray, why is Mr. Higginbottom so odious?"
"Perhaps the word odious is unjust. The man may be perfectly amiable, but it is difficult for me to determine that because I'm so shallow a person I'm frightfully put off by his appearance. It's no fault of his that he is fat and persists in wearing garments that fit him when he was a much leaner man. And it's terribly unkind of me to object to the fact that his head is as hairless as a billiard ball. Suffice it to say the man has a granddaughter who is my age."
Glee's eyes widened. "Oh dear, that will never do! Does Edmund actually think you would be that desperate to marry?"
Sally's lips folded into a grim line, and her grip tightened on Joy's cloth doll. "My feelings were never considered, I assure you. All that mattered to Edmund was Mr. Higginbottom's large purse." She tossed the doll into a basket.
"I cannot understand why your mother would continue to live under her son's roof when he is so thoroughly mercenary. Did he not himself marry for position rather than love?"
Sally nodded. "But Mama is no proponent of love matches. Her father arranged her marriage. Besides, she is besotted over Edmund, and he persuaded her how advantageous it would be for me to marry Mr. Higginbottom."
"Oh dear," Glee said again. "And knowing you and your sharp tongue, I am persuaded you alienated Edmund dreadfully."
"I could hardly be expected to hold my tongue---" Sally shook her head and burst out laughing. "I daresay I've never been one to hold my tongue in my entire life."
Glee laughed, too. "I daresay you're right."
"But I'm now faced with the difficulty of my situation. I refuse to go back to Edmund's, and David is off who-knows-where in the navy. As the daughter of a deceased vicar, I obviously have no great fortune of my own."
Glee's smile widened and her eyes twinkled. "You'll just have to live with Blanks and me!"
"As much as I love you, I refuse to live off your charity. I shall have to take a position. I've been thinking . . . I was at the top of our class at Miss Worth's . . . Do you suppose she would engage me to teach at the school?"
Glee shook her head vigorously. "I shan't allow you to think on the matter! Why, you're the niece of Lord Bankston!" Her eyes surveyed Sally, who was putting everything in its place. "Though, I declare, looking at you now, one would believe you a parlor maid. Do leave that for the servants!"
"You know I cannot."
Glee nodded. "I know. Living with you at Miss Worth's was the only time in my life I had a tidy bedchamber."
"Then my neatness did not rub off on you?"
"Heavens no! I shouldn't wish to have everything tucked away for I'd never be able to find anything. But that is not what we were discussing. About
your teaching . . . I daresay Lord Bankston would suffer apoplexy if he thought his niece would accept a position as a teacher."
"Grandniece. Then I shan't tell him. My mind is made up. I wish to be independent. I refuse to live off anyone's charity."
"You were going to live with your brother. What is the difference between living with me—who loves you—and living with your wretched brother?" Glee challenged.
"Edmund was charged by our father with the responsibility of taking care of us upon Papa's death. All of Papa's money—what there was of it—went to his firstborn with that caveat. Edmund bought David's colours and was to make a home for Mama and me with him and Drucilla and their children."
"I am certain that if you stayed here in Bath with Blanks and me you would quickly capture a husband, and that would solve all your problems."
"You may be certain of it, but I'm not. You and Felicity and Diana all easily captured agreeable husbands because you are beautiful. Unfortunately, I cannot aspire to such hopes."
"You are pretty," Glee countered.
"If one likes females as tall and shapeless as a beanpole. And add to that I am possessed of hair that bears a remarkable resemblance to straw."
"That's not true! Granted, you are taller than average and slight of frame, but your face is pretty. Why, you have the nicest dimples I've ever beheld, and your eyes are lovely. It's so unexpected to see dark brown eyes on a blonde. I vow, I would trade anything I have—save Blanks and Joy—to have your complexion."
Sally rolled her eyes. "You're the fair, pretty one. Why would you want skin that's bronzed?"
"It's not bronzed. It's . . . tawny. Like you. Shades of gold and browns. You're really very pretty."
"Would that men shared your views," Sally muttered. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Glee. "Speaking of men, I detect a marked difference of late in your husband. You have every right to tell me it's none of my concern, but I'm quite distressed over what I witness. Blanks had become so responsible, such an attentive husband, and now he's returned to his former ways, cavorting with that brother of yours."