Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  A slightly wry smile crossed her face, wondering if Lord Greville truly knew what he was doing in boldly announcing their betrothal when he knew so very little about her. She did not think that an earl would particularly care for a lady such as she, but she was adamant that she would not change her interests or desires simply for his sake. She would continue with the expansion of her mind and in practicing useful pursuits, instead of trifles such as needlework or watercolor painting. Mayhap Lord Greville would wish to end the engagement when he realized the kind of woman she truly was!

  A sudden lurch made her cling frantically to the seat cushions, hearing all kinds of shouts and screams as the carriage swung wildly from side to side. She could hardly get her breath, hanging onto the strap for dear life as she wondered what on earth could be going on.

  Without warning, just as she heard the coachman shout something about the horses running free, the entire carriage tipped onto its side, flinging Violet across the carriage as her grip on the strap slipped completely. Her head hit something hard, making stars spark in her vision. She felt a warm liquid trickle down her face, and she blinked furiously, trying to see clearly as her vision blurred even further.

  From outside the carriage, she heard people shouting, with loud male voices growing ever closer. Filled with an unearthly panic, Violet tried to right herself, only to find her skirts were caught on something she could not see.

  The smell of smoke filled her nostrils, making her heart slam repeatedly into her chest. She moved to find a way to climb out of the carriage, but something pulled her backward, and she realized her dress was wedged into the metal of the carriage. She furiously yanked at her skirts, but as hard as she tugged they wouldn’t budge.

  “Help!” she cried, as the smoke turned into a crackle, telling her that the carriage had caught alight. “Help me, please!”

  “Lady Harrington?”

  “Here,” she coughed, as smoke filled the small space. “Please, I am stuck!”

  There was a smashing sound, accompanied by the shriek of twisted metal, and as her dress was freed, a strong hand grasped her leg.

  “You will permit me?”

  Violet could barely agree, such was the pounding in her head and the cough that racked her lungs but, eventually, she was hauled from the carriage in a most unladylike manner. Falling against her savior, she coughed for a long time, feeling as though she might become ill right there in the middle of the street.

  “This way.”

  A strong arm wrapped around her waist and, as she looked up through bleary eyes, she saw that it was none other than Lord Greville, her betrothed, who had come to her rescue.

  “What happened?” she gasped, as she was led into his home and placed onto a camelback upholstered settee by the hearth in what looked to be the drawing room. “The carriage…I…”

  “Wait here for a moment, if you please,” he said, quietly. “I must get the doctor.”

  She shook her head. “I am quite all right, I assure you.”

  His eyes caught hers, one hand gently cradling her chin. “You are not all right, my dear. You have a nasty wound, which has caused some bleeding. In addition, I am worried about your racking cough.”

  “How could the carriage catch fire?” she asked, grasping his hand so that he could not move away. “I do not understand what happened to cause such a thing!”

  The look on his face became somewhat grim, his eyes darkening so that a coil of fear settled itself in her belly. Even though he smiled at her, Violet knew that he was greatly concerned over what had just happened.

  "I am sure it was just an accident," he said, eventually. "My friend, Lord Taylor, was here when we heard the commotion outside and he is currently investigating. The constables have also arrived. Just let me ring the bell and ensure that they do not require any assistance. Please, rest your head back and close your eyes. You have been through yet another ordeal, my lady.”

  * * *

  Violet realized that she could not disagree, as much as she wanted to, finding that letting her eyes close brought a very great relief. The pain in her head had not lessened, and she realized as her fingers reached up and touched something sticky, that the warmth she had felt on her face was that of her own blood.

  “Careful now,” came Lord Greville’s voice, as he knelt down in front of her. “That does look quite nasty. May I clean the blood off?”

  She nodded, attempting to sit up but finding she could not. Her body ached with tiredness as he began to gently clean the blood from her face, making her hiss with pain when he drew closer to the wound.

  “I am sorry,” he murmured, sounding worried. “I am trying to be as gentle as I can.”

  Violet managed to open her eyes and saw the concern on his face.

  “I shall not need a doctor, shall I?” she asked, desperately hoping she did not.

  He shook his head. “I am not quite sure.”

  “I was on my way to see you, my lord,” she continued, as she remembered why she had come. “I saw the paper this morning.”

  His ministrations paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers with a look of trepidation in them. “I see,” he said slowly. “I do hope you are glad about such a thing.”

  “Glad?” she exclaimed, ignoring the sudden stab of pain in her head as she attempted to sit up a little straighter. “I do not recall you proposing to me, my lord!”

  “Do you not?” he replied, quietly. “Then that was my mistake. However, I do not kiss ladies in the gardens unless I have every intention of wedding them.”

  Violet frowned, suddenly confused by what his attention to her, two nights previously, had truly meant. "You kissed me so as to hide my identity from those in the garden."

  An astonished expression crossed his face. “Did you truly believe that to be the case? I can assure you, my dear Lady Harrington, that it is not what you think. I confess that I was quite taken with you, and I assure you that I have never behaved in such a way before.” His fingers touched the curve of her jaw as his dark eyes assessed the wound on her head. “You have captured me completely.”

  Completely stunned by his words, Violet tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart and think sensibly. “You are jesting, my lord.”

  His eyes met hers, his eyebrows raised. “Am I? Have you not heard that I do not frequently dance with ladies at any gathering I have been at? Yet I danced two dances with you, and wished for a third, had you not prevented me.”

  “That does not mean – ”

  "I believe we will rub along very well together," he said, interrupting her and taking her hand in his. "I do apologize for my mistake in issuing such a thing without speaking with you first, but I had thought that you would not be upset in the least."

  “Because you are an earl, of course,” she said, wryly. “And any young lady should have her heart fluttering over you.”

  His impish grin made her heart lift, despite her ongoing frustrations. “No, because I was quite sure that you responded to me when I kissed you,” he said, softly. “You are not disinclined towards me.”

  “I have always promised myself that I would not marry without having, at the very least, some affection between myself and my betrothed,” Violet replied, refusing to be in the least affected by his words although she could not stop heat from caressing her cheeks. “I believe affection can lead to love and I will not enter into a loveless union. However, we hardly know one another.”

  Lord Greville’s eyes met hers, his gaze never wavering. “You may not believe it, Lady Harrington, but I have a deep affection for you already, even on such a short acquaintance. You have a strong character and have your own mind, which are both attributes I greatly appreciate.”

  "I am a bluestocking," she protested but saw no rebuke in his eyes.

  “Which is even more wonderful,” he replied, calmly. “And, given the circumstances, I believe that we may have to be wed this very day.”

  Violet blinked twice, her mind growing foggy with all
that had occurred. “I – I beg your pardon?”

  His smile widened. “You cannot be moved from here, my lady, not when you have such an injury and can barely lift your head. A special license will do it, I think.”

  “Special license?” Violet echoed, struggling to think clearly. “They are quite difficult to obtain, my lord, and I do not believe that – ”

  “I am sure I can convince them,” he interrupted, almost airily, as he stood. “I shall send the maids to prepare the bedchamber next to mine at once and I shall send a note to your mother and father as well. Never fear, my dear lady, you shall be resting in your new home very soon.”

  8

  Violet didn’t need to be told when her mother arrived.

  She was soaking in the bath in her new bedchamber, the soot and blood being cleaned out of her hair by a lovely young maid who was trying to hide the excitement she felt at all that was going on in the Earl’s household.

  Violet heard a knock on the front door, followed by footfalls and her mother’s voice trilling as she greeted the Earl, her soon-to-be son-in-law. Shortly thereafter the door to her bedchamber opened, her sister Polly entering with her usual exuberance, Violet’s own maid trailing behind with one of Violet’s dresses for the occasion. She promised that she had packed much of Violet’s clothing and possessions until such time Violet could return home herself to determine what else she would require.

  Violet’s stomach turned when she realized just how much was changing in one day. She had woken that morning anticipating a relatively typical day in her family’s home and now she had not only nearly died, but was going to be married to a man she barely knew and become the Lady of a household of her own. It was almost too much to comprehend and she shut her eyes tightly as if to ward off the overwhelm that had settled over her.

  At least Polly helped her take her mind off it all and make light of the situation. She was near bounding around the room, chattering away in excitement over all that was happening.

  “You should have heard Mama, Violet, when she received the note from Lord Greville! I thought she was going to faint, she was in such shock,” Polly said as she took stock of the extravagant bedchamber, with its thick lush carpet, heavy draperies that currently covered the large windows, and a beautiful canopied bed, its white hangings with intricate flowered designs in a deep red matching the quilt that lined the mattress.

  Violet kept her eyes closed in the copper tub that had been brought in and filled for her. She languished in the warm waters as she listened to Polly rattle on.

  “… And Father simply said, ‘Good Heavens!’ in that way of his and asked whatever could be so urgent that you would have to be married with such haste. Then, of course, realizing what could be the cause, he turned a deep red, to which Mama replied that you had just met the gentleman two evenings ago at the ball and had spent only a few minutes in his company outside of the ballroom, so there could not be anything unseemly at play. To which I must ask Violet, whatever is happening? The Earl was explaining to Mama and Father downstairs, but I insisted that I come see you at once.”

  Violet opened her eyes.

  “I had an accident, Polly. My carriage caught fire and I hit my head quite soundly when it overturned. Lord Greville pulled me from the carriage to safety. He has determined, despite my insistence otherwise, that I cannot be moved and therefore must stay in his home. Of course, this would be completely untoward unless we were married, so he has determined that the wedding will happen today. If, that is, he can secure a special license.”

  “Oh, but he has,” Polly replied. “In fact, the clergyman is already here. How are you feeling now? Oh, look at your poor forehead! My dear, Violet, that is quite the gash.”

  Violet had to admit that she was not at her best. The room still spun when she opened her eyes, and she was having difficulty concentrating on what Polly was saying.

  Her last hope, however, had been dashed, if Lord Greville indeed was able to obtain the special license so quickly.

  It took much more time than usual to prepare for the short ceremony. The two maids took their time drying her hair before artfully curling and arranging it to hide the gash on her forehead. Violet had to sit a few times and rest as she dressed in her best gown, a white silk with rosebuds inlaid into the fabric. Polly pinched her cheeks to try to draw some color into them, as her skin remained quite pale. By the time she viewed herself in the large circular mirror in the corner, she was already nearly worn out and the room spun around her.

  “Oh, Violet, you look simply beautiful!” said Polly with delight. “What a lucky man Lord Greville is. Come, they will be waiting downstairs.”

  Lord Greville was waiting in the hall to help Violet down the stairs. As he offered her his arm, he gave her a smile of appreciation that returned some of the wanted color to her cheeks. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Marie ran to her daughter, claiming to be distraught with worry over Violet’s condition following the accident, however Violet could see the gleam in her mother’s eye that told her she was not entirely displeased with the situation.

  “You are well enough to marry today, darling?” her mother asked with some trepidation. Violet was sure Marie was fighting a battle within herself between disappointment the wedding was such a small affair, and excitement at the urgency of the marriage to ensure nothing would keep it from occurring.

  “I am well, Mama,” Violet responded, although the hand she kept on the Earl’s arm to keep herself upright spoke otherwise.

  “We shall make the ceremony quick, so you are able to rest,” Lord Greville said to her, as he led her to the drawing room that had been rearranged to accommodate them. Violet’s father left her brother Benjamin and Lord Taylor, with whom he had been conversing, to come kiss his daughter on the cheek. With the exception of Thomas, of course, and Daniel, who was currently at Woodsworth, their country estate, her entire family had come to witness the event.

  Lord Greville told her that regretfully his mother was on holiday in Bath, but he was sure she would be most pleased with their union.

  “You look lovely, my dear,” Lionel said in a rare show of emotion as he took her arm. “This is happening somewhat quickly for my taste, but as long as you will be happy, that is what matters most.”

  She bestowed him with a sincere smile and ensured him that he had nothing to worry about. She inclined her head at both Benjamin and Lord Taylor, who politely offered their good wishes. They both seemed somewhat worried about the whole affair, each for their own reason.

  “Are you sure, Violet?” Benjamin asked her in a low tone, and she simply nodded.

  The ceremony was brief, and Violet had trouble concentrating. Her father walked her to Lord Greville, who was standing with the clergyman. She repeated the words the clergyman provided to her, her gaze at her hands. The Earl tilted her chin towards his face as he said his words to her, promising his love and fidelity as long as they both should live. She knew the words were hollow, however, a promise that all married couples made but few kept sacred. It was the reason why she had turned down so many suitors. She always thought when she said these words — if she said these words — they would be for a true love match. She hoped, at least, in time the affection the Earl seemed to show for her would not wane.

  Her family stayed for a small dinner that had been prepared as hastily as the marriage itself. Benjamin pulled Violet aside to ensure that all was well and there was nothing he needed to do in order to defend her to the Earl. She smiled and assured him that she was fine, but grateful for his support.

  Violet retired soon after supper, bidding farewell to her family. Her husband walked her to her bedchamber to determine she was feeling well before wishing her goodnight. As she entered the room, alone but for her maid, she felt somewhat bereft. She understood he was likely avoiding consummating their marriage due to her injuries, and she was glad of it; however, this was so removed from the wedding night she had always hoped for.

  She sank into b
ed, overwhelmed and alone, and tossed fitfully through the night.

  * * *

  When Joshua had stood next to the clergyman as his fiancée left her father’s arm and took his, the enormity of the situation and what he was entering into finally struck him. He was marrying this woman. For the rest of his life. As she looked up at him with a mix of bewilderment, acceptance, and — just possibly — hope, his heart squeezed in his chest as he felt a sense of wonder that this woman would now be his, and his alone.

  As independent as he knew she was, he suddenly felt a sense of responsibility as he never had before. It was up to him to keep her safe and protected. He had somewhat accomplished this feat by virtue of her now being his wife, and he could keep her safe in the confines of his home. But the deeper he was looking into this criminal activity, the more he felt that London was no longer safe for Violet.

  He had watched her during the dinner following their small ceremony. She had hardly touched her food, and he was unsure if it was due to how overwhelmed she was at being wed so suddenly, or the ill effects following the attempt on her life earlier that day.

  When he had walked her to her bedchamber to retire for the evening, his body wanted nothing more than to follow her in and show her that there were advantages to marriage that she had perhaps not realized. However, he saw the tiredness in her eyes and felt the way she leaned on him to climb the stairs, and knew tonight was not the night to introduce her to the marriage bed. He left her at the door with a chaste kiss on the cheek and rejoined the party below for a time.

  He felt the only way to truly keep Violet safe was for her to stay at his country estate, to where he would send her once she had recovered from her ordeal. As he waited over the next two days, he worked tirelessly on his investigation of Sir Whitby’s death and the activities leading up to it. The man Taylor had caught in the gardens was in custody, and while the police did a fine job in questioning him, Joshua felt the need to see this man for himself. So far he had not revealed anything of note, including whether or not he was aware that the lady in the garden was Violet.