Searching Hearts Box Set: Books 1-5

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “Not that,” Daniel grated, becoming increasingly more irritated with his parents’ lack of serious regard for what they had done. “But that Father used his wealth and control to force me to come to London.”

  His mother raised one eyebrow, no look of astonishment in her eyes. “Daniel, dear,” she chided gently. “Wait until we are alone, please.”

  Daniel made to retort, only to catch the glint in his father’s eye. He was being foolish in speaking so openly when the staff was still about, aware that gossip was one thing his father refused to tolerate. It was best not to say anything until the last footman was gone.

  It gave Daniel time to breathe, to calm his fractious nerves as he waited for the footman to close the door and leave them alone. He took the opportunity to study his parents, seeing his mother, as elegant as ever, with a calm smile on her face as though there was nothing untoward about the situation. His father, the duke, was not in any way upset by Daniel’s outburst but was instead pouring himself a somewhat large glass of port, and then another for Daniel.

  “Now,” the duke began, as the door closed tight. “Daniel, you are upset, I can see, and you have every right to be. However, I will not accept that I have done anything wrong in this. You have duties to the family, and they are duties you have not taken seriously. You have refused to answer my request to come to London and secure yourself a bride, instead insisting that you remain in the country.”

  “I know you cared for Laura very much,” his mother added softly, placing a hand on his arm that he forced himself not to shrug off, as her face was awash with sympathy, “but that was years ago. You must let her go, put her memory to rest so that you might move on and find another. You need not love her, but you must do your duty regardless.”

  The very notion made Daniel burn with anger, and he thumped the table with his fist, hard enough to startle his mother.

  “I will not be told what to do!”

  “Oh yes, you will,” the duke replied, his voice calm yet steady. “You will, Daniel, and you will not speak to your mother like that. You are not a child any longer. We have given you plenty of time to find your own way, but this has gone on long enough. I will not have the future of our family line put in jeopardy by your selfish actions.”

  “Selfish!” Daniel exclaimed as blood roared in his ears. He pushed back from the table and began to pace around the room. “I have been nothing if not selfless these last few years! I have given myself to good works, have looked after my tenants and my lands with all the attention I could muster. My estate has been profitable because of the work I have put into it. I have not been in London drinking and gambling and chasing the ladies of the night simply so that I might enjoy myself. How dare you call me selfish in choosing not to find a bride until I am ready?”

  There was a long, pronounced silence as Daniel’s words echoed around the room. His mother was watching him closely, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, while the duke was rubbing his graying beard thoughtfully, sitting back in his chair and regarding Daniel.

  “You are quite right, son,” he said, after a long time. “I ought not to have called you selfish — but the truth is, I know very little about your life and what you choose to do with it. While you are doing all you can to look after your land and estate, which I credit you for, you are still neglectful of the one other duty you have been called to.”

  “The duty of matrimony to produce the heir,” Daniel replied dully, his head hanging low as the fight went out of him. “I have brothers,” he said as he sat back at the table.

  “Thomas is at sea with no intention of returning,” his father said. “He has two daughters and no sons. There would be nothing more selfish than to force Thomas’s family to London, you know that, Daniel. Benjamin has made something of himself, it is true, but neither he nor his wife have any wish to take on the role of duke and duchess. As of now, they have no children. Perhaps in time they will, but it would be better were the line to continue from you — that a child grows up learning from his father, as you did.”

  The words echoed around Daniel’s head. How ironic, that of three sons, none had any wish to take on the role of duke one day. His father was right, however. If he wanted to look after his family, there was no other way than to take on the role expected of him. His father was still the duke and he still the heir apparent. Deep within him, he heard a voice reminding him that his father was doing what he thought was best for Daniel and best for the title, but he chose not to listen to it.

  “I did what I had to in order to force you to come to London for the Season,” the duke continued, quietly, “and my decision does not change. You are here for one reason and one reason only.”

  Daniel looked up, his heart thudding painfully. “And that is…?”

  “To meet your betrothed,” the duke replied, his eyes holding steady. “And to court her until your wedding day.”

  5

  “Ravenhall, you look as though you are about to attend a hanging.”

  Daniel looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the lines on his face and the tenseness about his stature. “I don’t know what you mean, Hudson,” he muttered, as his friend chuckled all the more. “I think the ball this evening will be a wonderful event.”

  “Is that so?” Lord Hudson grinned, his eyes bright with laughter. “My goodness, Ravenhall, you cannot even muster up a modicum of interest, can you?”

  Daniel drew in a long breath, turning away from the mirror that hung on the wall of the drawing room as he shrugged toward Hudson, reclining in the overstuffed floral chair once again. “I do not think I need to.”

  “Because you’re now betrothed.”

  Nodding, Daniel sat down heavily. “Precisely. There is no requirement for me to show any enthusiasm of any sort because the woman I am to marry will wed me regardless of whether I smile or frown this evening. Perhaps that is the one benefit of this arrangement.”

  It had been three days since Daniel had heard the news that he was to marry. He had tried his best to think of some excuse, some way to free himself, but his father’s countenance had told Daniel he was not to argue, or all would be all the worse for him. His father never seemed to concern himself with much, but when he actually set his mind on something, he could be quite determined.

  Daniel had seen his mother’s delight, her hope that he would do as they considered he should and produce an heir as soon as possible, and he’d simply let their conversation flow over him. He didn’t let himself think about it all until he’d returned home to the quiet of his own house — a house that felt as empty as he did, as void of any joy.

  “I still can’t quite get over it,” he muttered, smoothing a wrinkle out of his carefully tied cravat. “I can hardly imagine marrying, let alone someone I have never met.”

  He’d agreed to it in the end, of course, aware that if he did not then his father could simply remove a large part of his fortune and even change his will, should he feel that Daniel was not behaving in the way the heir to the title ought to. Daniel was well aware that each duke before him in recent history had taken on the title already married, with the majority of them having a son already produced. His father had told him of this a great many times, but it still had not affected Daniel’s outlook.

  “What if she is ugly?” Hudson contemplated, and Daniel rolled his eyes as he accepted a drink from his friend. “I doubt that. I have to take her to bed and, given how much my father wants the heir to be produced, I doubt he would saddle me with an unattractive wife.”

  Lord Hudson grinned, sending a ripple of irritation through Daniel. His friend was enjoying this situation far too much for Daniel’s liking.

  “And she has agreed to all this, I presume? You are not going to have some flighty young thing changing her mind the moment you scowl at her?”

  Daniel snorted, loudly. “I highly doubt it. She is to be the Duchess of Ware one day. What kind of young lady turns such a title down?”

  Hudson nodded slowly, his smil
e fading. “You do not mean to attempt to scare her away, do you now, Ravenhall?”

  “I am angry, true,” Daniel replied, crossing his arms. “It is not what I wanted — not yet anyway. I have my own life to lead, and now it seems as though my father is desperate to take that away from me. Besides that, after Laura … well. I do not think I will prove to be the husband this young woman is looking for. I shall not pretend to be someone I am not, however, and if she still wants me once she knows the way of it, then so be it.”

  “Your father is desperate to maintain the family line, as you yourself will be one day,” Lord Hudson replied, firmly. “Besides, many gentlemen find themselves in your situation and do very well out of it. It takes a great deal of effort to secure a wife, you know. You should be relieved that you do not have to parade yourself through society and choose a lady for yourself! The moment you set foot at a social event, they will be swarming around you like river rats, all seeking to cling to you.”

  “And only interested in me because of my wealth and title,” Daniel finished, with a dullness settling into his voice. “Yes, I know.” A memory of his entry into societal events rose, of the days when he enjoyed the attention, though it had been caught by one beautiful woman in particular, who had loved him for who he was and not the title he held.

  At least, that was what she’d always told him and he’d always believed it since he loved her in return.

  Overwhelmed by frustration, he thrust to his feet and stormed toward the door, growing angrier with himself with each step. He’d never before questioned Laura’s words, nor her affection for him, so why was he doing it now? Was it because he was to find himself married in a few short weeks? Or was it because he was growing colder and more cynical as the years passed, burying himself in his hatred of Lord Northcliffe?

  “No more dawdling,” he said sharply, as Lord Hudson stared at him in surprise. “Let’s go. The last thing I want is my father to complain that I am late.”

  Hudson shrugged, threw back the rest of his brandy, and set the glass down. “As you wish,” he murmured, eyeing Daniel carefully. “Are you sure you’re all right, Ravenhall?”

  “Yes,” Daniel replied, tightly. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The ball was already in full swing by the time Daniel and Hudson arrived. While the sight of lords and ladies in all of their finery twirling around the room in front of them made Lord Hudson grin, it filled Daniel with a certain amount of dread.

  “Capital!” Lord Hudson exclaimed, rubbing his hands. “This should do me very well. Lots of young ladies to dance with, plenty to drink, and a card room should it all get too much.”

  He slapped Daniel on the shoulder, trying to get him to smile. “Stop looking so beastly or you will frighten away your bride long before she has the chance to get to know you,” he continued, as they joined the line to greet their hosts. “You have to try to smile a little bit, Daniel. The poor creature’s going to be terrified of you.”

  Daniel didn’t care. He hated this, hated being here and being so on display. Turning his attention to Lord and Lady Fauconberg, he thanked them for their invitation and commented on how beautifully the room was decorated, how elegant Lady Fauconberg looked, and how wonderfully the orchestra played. The words came easily to his lips, as he was fully in the knowledge that he was expected to give such compliments before excusing himself. It was how a gentleman such as he was meant to conduct himself and while his feelings on the role had changed, Daniel had never forgotten his training.

  “Thank you, Lord Ravenhall,” Lord Fauconberg murmured, as Daniel made to step away. “I do hope you have a very enjoyable evening.”

  There was a glimmer of a smile on the man’s face, which Daniel caught just as he turned away. A heaviness settled into his heart. Apparently, Lord Fauconberg was aware of what Daniel was here for — and if Lord Fauconberg knew, then his wife knew too, and that meant within a day or two, London would be alive with the news that Daniel, the Marquess of Ravenhall and heir apparent to the Duke of Ware, was engaged.

  He swallowed, hard. It was all becoming too much.

  “Courage, man,” Lord Hudson murmured, coming to stand by him. “I’m sure your young lady is very lovely and you will be more than happy with her. First meetings are always difficult. Just smile and say something to compliment her, request to dance and then leave her be. That will satisfy everyone and allow you to take things slowly.”

  Daniel made to reply as they came to the grand staircase which would lead them down into the ballroom, but, in that one moment, his whole being froze.

  He could not speak. He could not move. His hands tightened into fists, his teeth ground together, his feet felt stuck to the floor. All he could see was Lord Northcliffe, smiling, laughing, and genuinely enjoying himself, as he stood in the center of the room.

  “Ravenhall?” Lord Hudson said, quietly, nudging him. “Whatever’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’ve lost your nerve! It’s only a woman.”

  Daniel tried to shake his head, his mouth opening and closing, but still, he could not say a word. Lord Northcliffe was some distance away but, from where he stood, Daniel was certain it was him. Six years he had waited for this, to come face-to-face with the man who had ruined his life.

  “Goodness, you are quite overcome,” Lord Hudson murmured, as some other gentlemen walked past them to descend the staircase. “Whatever’s the matter, Ravenhall?”

  “There,” Daniel ground out, one finger stretching out to point at the man. “That is Lord Northcliffe, is it not?”

  Hudson’s smile faded rapidly and he turned to look where Daniel pointed.

  “I do not think it is,” he said, slowly, his eyes turning toward Daniel before he looked back out across the crowd. “I will confess that the gentleman looks like him but I cannot be certain. It has been quite some time since I last saw him.”

  “It is him,” Daniel ground out, his hand now clutching Lord Hudson’s coat. “I would know him anywhere!”

  White-hot anger began to race through him, his rage spiking as he hurried down the steps into the ballroom, not even thinking about who might be watching his entrance. All he thought of was Lord Northcliffe, all he wanted was to get to him — although what he intended to do once he did, Daniel had no idea.

  “Ravenhall!”

  Hudson grasped his arm tightly, pulling him back.

  “What are you doing?” he hissed, dragging Daniel away from his quarry. “You cannot just go up to him in the middle of the ballroom!”

  “Leave me be,” Daniel exclaimed, not caring who heard him.

  His friend shook his head, his gaze resolute. “For your own sake, I cannot do that, Ravenhall. Think about what you’re doing, for heaven’s sake! You promised me you would not act without proof.”

  Despite that, despite knowing that he ought not to go anywhere near Lord Northcliffe, Daniel could not stop himself. “I must,” he grated, shaking his arm free of Hudson. “You do not understand.”

  Leaving Hudson behind, Daniel hurried through the crowd once more, ignoring those who tried to greet him. His mind was filled with one firm purpose, his thoughts aimed in only one direction.

  “Lord Northcliffe?” he gasped, his breathing ragged as he reached the group of gentlemen he had seen talking with the man, but found him nowhere in sight.

  One of the gentlemen looked at Daniel in surprise, while the others began to whisper among themselves, shooting glances toward Daniel, some amused, others somewhat fearful.

  “Lord Northcliffe just left us,” one man finally said quietly, looking at Daniel with something like surprise. “He stepped out to the gardens.”

  Daniel turned away without a word, going straight toward the doors that led out to Lord Fauconberg’s gardens. They would be well lit, he was certain of it, which meant that all he had to do was step out and find him there. Perhaps outside was better. He would draw less attention when he smashed Lord Northcliffe’s face into the dirt.

&n
bsp; The outside air was cool, rushing across his heated cheeks and somewhat calming his frantic thoughts. Daniel hesitated for a moment as he hurried down the steps toward the garden paths, stopping to lean against the stone wall as he collected himself.

  What was he doing? What did he intend to do? Was he really going to beat Lord Northcliffe to a bloody pulp right here in Lord Fauconberg’s gardens? Who would bear the brunt of his shame when it was discovered that he was responsible? He might feel vindicated, even relieved, but the truth would come out sooner or later and the ton would not understand his actions. He could try and explain but they would not listen, rumors and gossip would fly all about and damage his reputation irreversibly. And not only his.

  His father would be shamed. His mother would lose her standing in society, dropped like a hot coal from her circle of friends. His betrothed — whoever she was — would never be able to enter London without whispers about his behavior swirling around her. His children, should he have any, would never be allowed to forget the stories about their father.

  But still, he could not simply let Lord Northcliffe get away. He had to at least let the man know he was watching him.

  Pushing himself away from the wall, Daniel hurried down the garden path, not seeing anyone about until his shoulder slammed into another person.

  “Out of my way!” he snarled without so much as a look back, before dashing off into the darkness.

  6

  Christina tried to catch her breath after the gentleman hurried away on the poorly lit garden path, her chest and shoulder aching where his body had slammed, hard, into hers. He had come from nowhere, seemingly rushing down the path with such abandon that Christina hadn’t seen him until he charged headlong into her. And yet he had the audacity to tell her to move!