by Fiona Miers
Lizzie’s Earl
By Fiona Miers
Dedication:
To my mother- the best woman I have ever known, and the main reason why I love Regency romance. Thank you for feeding my obsession. I love you.
Lizzie’s Earl
Fiona Miers
Published by Fiona Miers
Copyright © 2016
Electronic rights and print rights by the author. The reproduction or other use of any part of this publication without the prior written consent of the rights holder is an infringement of the copyright law. This is a work of fiction. People and locations, even those with real names, have been fictionalized for the purposes of this story.
Acknowledgements
Maria Perry Mohan – Thank you so much for being such an awesome editor. I love getting your emails and seeing what you’ve done to polish up my manuscript so well. Thank you for looking after Lizzie and Rupert for me.
Jess Buffett- my brilliant cover artist. As always, you did an amazing job with this cover. Thank you for getting it so right. LOVE your work.
Lizzie’s Earl
Prologue 1805
The week he turned twenty-one years old, the Honourable Rupert Willoughby, packed his bags and bade goodbye to the servants. The festivities thrown for him had been magnificent the night with his friends, truly wonderful. But now that he had finally reached manhood, there was one more thing for Rupert to do and that was to finally move out of his family home and into his bachelor lodgings. His time for drinking the heady wine of freedom and sowing his wild oats had finally arrived.
On his way out the door, he was called into the study by his brother, Henry, who had married the wife who had been chosen for him and who had inherited the Earldom of Sweeting when their father had passed away a few years earlier.
Rupert knocked on the door as was expected, impatiently tapping his feet.
“Please enter,” he heard Henry call through the thick wooden door.
Rupert grinned and took a deep breath. He had no idea what this was going to be about, but he hoped it wouldn’t take long. His life was calling him and he didn’t want to be late.
He pushed open the door and walked into the opulent, yet tastefully decorated room.
“Good evening, my lord,” Rupert said, bowing to his brother before sitting down on the chair opposite him.
Rupert had always viewed his brother more like a father than a sibling, Henry being fifteen years his senior. They were brothers and yet they hardly knew each other.
“Firstly, I’d like to congratulate you belatedly on your birthday yesterday. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for it.” Henry apologised, with what appeared to be honest regret.
“No need, Henry. I know you needed to be with your wife.” Rupert waved his hand dismissively. His brother had been at their country estate whilst his wife was in her confinement. Rupert had known that their fifth child was due any day. They already had four daughters.
“I did, but I am back to speak to you because of what has happened,” Henry said, in a rather pompous tone of voice. By Rupert’s estimation, there was obviously something quite serious to report.
“I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand. Is everything all right? Mary is not unwell?” Rupert asked, hoping nothing untoward had happened to his sister-in-law. The woman had never been particularly warm toward him, but he didn’t wish any ill upon her.
“She gave birth to another girl.” Henry groaned, his mouth turning down and his nose wrinkling in disfavour.
Rupert grimaced internally. He knew that his brother needed an heir, but how many more children could they have?
“Oh… well, congratulations,” Rupert said, unable to think of anything else to say.
His brother gave him a rather dry look and placed his hands on the desk in front of him.
“I have no wish to continue to produce daughters. The doctors have told me that more than likely, Mary can only bear female children.” His brother hesitated for a moment, then spoke again “ I have a son, after all,” he announced, with a victorious smile.
Rupert frowned. He’d known his brother had a long term mistress, he just hadn’t realised that she had borne a son. Obviously, his brother took this to mean that the continual arrival of daughters couldn’t be his fault, as he had sired a son with another woman. Rupert saw the holes in this logic, but kept his mouth tightly shut.
“I didn’t realise you’d had another child.” Rupert said instead, temporarily blinded to the main issue his brother was trying to raise.
Again that smile, a sickening grimace of teeth and lips.
“Yes, with another on the way.”
Rupert looked at his brother’s face and was struck with a rather frightening realisation. His brother was in love with his mistress.
“But, surely, you will keep trying for an heir with your wife?” Rupert said quietly, the reality of what his brother was trying to convey slowly sinking into his brain and his heart beginning to pound against his ribs.
“No, I won’t be. You are my heir.”
Rupert’s heart sank and his breath caught in his throat. No, I don’t want this.
“But Henry...” Rupert protested, almost gasping for air as panic began to set in.
“It is settled,” Henry announced with finality, holding his hand up to ward off any further rebuttal from Rupert.
“I will increase your allowance as befits your new station,” his brother added.” You will have a suitable wife chosen for you in the near future and she will be the one to produce our heir. It is really quite simple. I had thought you would be happy about this.”
Rupert could see his life slipping away before it had even begun. He had never wanted this responsibility. He hadn’t even decided if he wanted to marry at all.
“But…” Rupert vainly tried to protest once more, a hot sweat breaking out on his brow.
“It is decided.” Henry stared him down, his almost black eyes boring into Rupert’s.
A familiar stirring in his blood alerted Rupert to a change in his body that he often ignored. He’d known he had a temper. By physically beating his body on a daily basis, he kept it in check with lots of riding, boxing and rowing. But it was always there, simmering away underneath. His grandfather had had it, he had heard the older servants speak of it. No-one except his friends had ever seen the fire unleashed, though. They’d told him bluntly that it wasn’t an occurrence they ever wished to see repeated.
Rupert stood up and used what size he had to intimidate his brother. He was six feet four inches tall, well over his brother’s five feet, eleven inches. He was still lean, but he was developing strength and his shoulders were already considerably wider than those of his brothers.
“No!” Rupert hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers flexing and extending in shaking movements. “I will not have you choose me a wife to act as your brood mare.”
“You will do as you’re ordered,” his brother shouted, his rotund face turning a mottled red.
“I will not. If you choose me a wife who cannot bear sons, or any children at all, what will happen to our name?” Rupert argued.
They both knew that a female could inherit the title, in rare circumstances, but a male heir was preferred by all involved.
“You must marry and soon.” His brother said, insistently.
“I will not. I haven’t even moved out yet.” Rupert almost shouted, clearing his throat in embarrassment as it almost broke with emotion.
“I will cut you off.” Henry announced with a flick of his hand. This was his one and only advantage. He held t
he power to either make Rupert’s life easy and pleasant or very difficult indeed.
Rupert frowned at his brother, feeling flickering flames of anger licking their way along his spine.
He held his fists by his side, taking a long, deep breath before he spoke. “Do that and I’ll join the army and disappear. You will never have control over me again and your precious title can go to the butler for all I care.”
He turned towards the door, ready to do exactly what he’d said he would and damn the consequences. He would not be controlled like this.
“Wait,” Henry called out, a note of desperation in his voice.
Rupert stopped just before he reached the door, but refused to go back to his brother’s desk. Instead he simply turned around and stared at him, pouring every ounce of anger into his glare.
“Thirty. Marry by thirty and I’ll make sure you never want for anything.” His brother bargained, obviously unwilling to lose his only blood-linked male heir.
Rupert clenched his teeth together and used all of his will power to push back his anger. Slowly, it retreated, like a black cloud into the distance and he could at least see clearly again.
He looked at the way his brother leaned forward on his desk, no longer in a position of power. He was begging.
Rupert forced his brain to think. Thirty seemed a very long way off. He was barely one and twenty. Nine years he had. Nine years to sow his wild oats. Nine years to drink enough liquor to kill a sailor. He had nine years of sweet freedom before he finally sold his soul to his brother for the sake of money.
“Done.”
The decision was final.
Chapter 1
London 1813
Rupert Willoughby was strikingly handsome. Or so he’d been told, since before he’d left the cradle. The combination of truly blue eyes and black hair had enticed many a beauty into his bed.
Thanks to his brother’s wealth and generosity, he had an excellent allowance. Rupert’s best friend, the former LordArchibald Turner, now the Earl of Tother, an original member of their group ‘the spares’, was a dab hand at the Stock Exchange. Archie often advised Rupert about how to invest his money and thus, he was set for the future. Rupert would never have to seek employment as so many second sons had had to do.
He secretly wanted a wife such as his friends Archie, Earl of Tother and Oliver, Duke of Lincoln, had found. Sarah, Duchess of Lincoln and Charlotte, Countess of Tother, were both ladies who could hold an intelligent conversation and also, manage a household. Women who were beautiful but much more than merely decorative. Rupert wasn’t sure if he would ever find such a woman for himself and certainly not one who could hold his interest in the bed chamber. It would probably be better to find a ‘suitable’ wife and continue to live as he already did. As long as he produced the required heir, his responsibilities would be met.
At the Duke and Duchess of Lincoln’s (Oliver and Sarah’s) Annual Ball, Rupert eyed the beauty standing talking to Charlotte, Countess of Tother. The former Lady Charlotte Dunford looked very well, beautiful in fact. She was still quite blissfully happy with her marriage to his friend Archie, Earl of Tother and if Rupert wasn’t mistaken, could very well have been enceinte again. Unlike many of the women of the ton who all but hid throughout their pregnancies, Charlotte glowed with good health and happily stood in the centre of a crowded ballroom. She had no qualms showing everyone how happy she was to be bearing another child for her husband. Rupert shook his head against the unfamiliar notion. It really was confounding.
Next to her, however, was a young lady whom Rupert had never seen before. She had hair as blonde as Sarah’s. She had tan skin in comparison to Charlotte’s paleness, but it suited her hair and her eyes. He couldn’t see them very well from where he was standing, but it appeared to him that her eyes looked quite dark. She was absolutely striking. She had high cheekbones, classic features and an amazing smile which affected him even from where he was standing, right across the room. Rarely had Rupert seen a more beautiful woman.
He noted that she was short in stature and that she had high, firm breasts, swelling above her low neckline. The blue of her dress, the neckline and her wedding ring proclaimed her married. Or widowed. Either way, she was the perfect rendezvous he needed. He was a little bored with his latest mistress.
Rupert straightened his coat with a quick tug and straightened to his full six feet four inches tall. Feeling confident, he walked over to the two ladies.
“May I beg you for an introduction to your friend, my dear Charlotte?”
Charlotte smiled tightly, knowing his habits well. She turned to include him in their circle, which surprised him a little, but his friend’s sister did have the perfect manners.
“Of course, Rupert. Mrs Elizabeth Symmons, may I introduce a friend of ours, the Hon. Rupert Willoughby, the younger brother of the Earl of Sweeting”
Rupert heard the warning in the introduction and smirked inwardly. Charlotte was fiercely protectively of those she loved. It was one of the things he liked most about her.
The beautiful blonde curtseyed prettily and gave him a sunny, open smile. Rupert bowed in return, surprised despite himself by the artlessness of her expression.
“May I have the pleasure of the next dance my lady?” he asked, giving her his most charming smile.
Elizabeth smiled back, glancing quickly at Charlotte for permission to leave her alone, which Rupert respected. When Charlotte smiled back in return, the beautiful woman turned to him.
“Of course. Thank you, sir,” she replied confidently, placing her small hand in his.
She was very petite, tiny even, yet Rupert felt the firmness of her grip and observed the way she held herself. This would not be a woman over whom one could easily walk, he told himself.
“You are looking very beautiful this evening, Mrs Symmons.” Rupert told her, as they swept into the dance floor.
Elizabeth laughed, her bright eyes sparkling with gaiety.
“Why, thank you, sir. And indeed, you are looking very handsome.”
Rupert grinned, surprised by her words. He didn’t believe he had ever had a compliment returned before. Most women simply fluttered their fans and gave him the eyes. The eyes told him how flattered they were that he had given them his attention. The eyes also indicated to him just how quickly they would fall into his bed. Mrs Elizabeth Symmons wasn’t giving him the eyes, nor was she flirting with him. How strange.
“How are you enjoying the evening?” Rupert asked politely, manoeuvring her expertly around the many couples on the dance floor. He didn’t dance often, but he considered it part of his seduction routine, therefore, he made sure that he was rather good at it.
“Oh, I am enjoying it very much. I have recently come out of mourning and have never felt so decadent for wearing a colour before.” Elizabeth explained, looking down for a moment on her beautiful blue evening gown.
Rupert smiled inwardly. A widow, was she? That was absolutely perfect. Affairs were much less stressful when there wasn’t a spouse to take into consideration all the time. Would Elizabeth Symmons like just a night or two in his arms? Or would she perhaps want something more permanent? A longer time frame would work out quite nicely, Rupert thought, his mind jumping ahead with plans for her seduction.
“You must be lonely.” Rupert murmured, giving her a look which was meant to be both respectful, yet meaningful to those who knew how to interpret it.
He swept his eyes subtly down to her neckline, where there was a swelling of flesh. He shifted his stance slightly, as his cock thickened in his breeches. Rupert smiled. He was surprised, but also delighted. He hadn’t experienced such a strong attraction to a woman in a very long time. His body was alive, all but screaming out for him to lay her down on the nearest flat surface and have his wicked way with her.
His body and mind declared war. It was his primitive self versus the cultured ton gentleman. If he was truly honest with himself, he had been getting bored. Nothing was ever new or exciting
anymore, but he had a feeling that this woman would be different.
“Indeed I am, my lord.”
****
Lizzie looked up at Rupert’s handsome face, seeing him with fresh eyes. Was this gentleman in the market for a wife? He looked a few years older than her, but that was never a good indication of the intention to settle down. A man could be five and twenty, or five and forty and still be an eligible match. Unlike a woman, who had definite limitations, this handsome man in front of her did not. Lizzie inhaled discreetly and noted that he didn’t smell of too much alcohol. His clothes were tailored rather beautifully also, she couldn’t help but notice. He either had independent means or he was searching for an heiress and had spent every penny he had on looking delicious. Lizzie couldn’t tell which, she would have to ask Charlotte for more information about this gentleman. But Lizzie could tell that the man in front of her was confident, almost arrogant in his countenance.
Lizzie looked up again and caught her breath when Rupert looked her way. Something new and unusual stirred in her belly whenever she looked into his rather remarkable, black eyes. It wasn’t completely pleasant, but at the same time, it was exciting. He was the first gentleman to really spark any interest in her since the death of her husband.
“Perhaps you would permit me to escort you home tonight?” Rupert suggested, his eyes now taking on a strange sort of leer to them. It couldn’t mean what she thought it appeared to be. Or could it?
“I don’t think so.” Lizzie frowned. He couldn’t be serious could he? Her mind was racing. Was he really suggesting that she take him home and…take him to her bed?
Any idea’s Lizzie had of him as a potential husband ended right there. Lizzie mentallly catalogued him as a rake and by definition, not interested in marriage. She wiped the smile from her face and straightened her spine even more. She was almost a foot shorter than he was, but as the anger began to build in her belly, Lizzie closed the gap.