Through the Fire

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Through the Fire Page 1

by Elizabeth Johns




  Through the Fire

  Traditional Regency Romance

  Elizabeth Johns

  Copyright © Elizabeth Johns, 2016

  All rights reserved

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  Cover Design by Wilette Youkey

  Edited by Tessa Shapcott

  Historical Content by Heather King

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  ISBN-13: 978-0-9965754-2-3

  ISBN-10: 0-9965754-2-1

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  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, copied, or transmitted without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  To my sisters

  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

  Preview of Melting the Ice

  Other Titles by Elizabeth Johns:

  About the Author

  Preview of Melting the Ice

  Afterword

  Prologue

  This is the first time we will be apart,” Beaujolais announced sadly to her triplet sisters, who were sitting on the large canopied bed with her in their London townhouse. They were enjoying their nightly ritual of gathering in Margaux’s room. Anjou, Beaujolais, and Margaux were the identical beautiful daughters of the Marquess Ashbury and his French Marchioness.

  “It is not forever, dear,” Margaux said soothingly as she brushed her sister’s long ebony locks to a silky sheen. “We will be together again. There will be house parties, and holidays…”

  “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I thought we would all be married by now. Yet, here we are, on the shelf!” Beaujolais exclaimed.

  “I am happy to be claiming my space on the shelf if it means leaving the Marriage Mart! You must admit I have lost the ability to hold my tongue. It is best I leave before I ruin you all,” Margaux said laughingly.

  “Yes, dear, we know. But a convent? Did you truly think Maman would allow it?” Anjou asked sceptically as she flashed her brilliant blue eyes at her sister.

  “No. At least they are allowing me to go to help with the orphanage in Scotland,” Margaux replied, apparently satisfied with her lot.

  “I would wager Maman will have you back here in less than three months,” Anjou taunted while she mindlessly twisted her hair about her finger.

  “I accept,” Margaux held out her hand to shake on it, never one to shun sisterly competition.

  “Stop, you two,” Beaujolais said with disgust. “Could you not be happy here? Could you not beg Maman simply to let you stay at home?”

  Margaux shook her head. “As if our maman, grandest hostess in the kingdom, would allow her single daughter to waste away at home. But even so, it would not be enough. I want freedom, dear. Can you try to understand?”

  Beaujolais had tears well up in her eyes, causing the violet hue to deepen. “I’m sorry, Marg. I will try to be happy for you, but I cannot understand it.”

  Margaux sighed. “You are the one born to be a duchess, Jolie. I will leave brilliant marriages to the two of you.”

  “Do not tease me about being a duchess. Besides, there are only two unmarried dukes in the kingdom. One is ancient and the other a recluse.”

  “Afraid we will curse you?” Anjou joined in taunting with her other sister. Since they were small, it had long been a source of amusement to tease Beaujolais. She had pretended to be a duchess when they had played as children and acted the most like one. It had not helped that their mother had encouraged it.

  “You have already turned down at least a baronet, a mister, two earls, and a marquess,” Margaux pointed out helpfully.

  “None of them could be taken seriously! And both of you have had as many offers as I,” Beaujolais insisted in her own defence.

  “I have not,” Anjou boasted.

  “And neither of us professes to be open to mariage de convenance,” Margaux added.

  “That is because you do not allow anyone to propose to you,” Beaujolais retorted.

  “I cannot consider anyone else,” Anjou said, looking away.

  Margaux took her hand to comfort her. “It has been years without word of Aidan, Anj. Do you not think it is time to forget him?” she asked kindly.

  Anjou shook her head and allowed her tears to spill down her face. “I need to do something. I cannot wait much longer for father’s enquiries.” She stepped down from the bed and began to pace as she wiped her tears away. Her love, Aidan, had gone off to the American war and had not been heard from since the hostilities had ended.

  “What do you propose to do?” Jolie asked with a frown.

  “I want to go and look for him.”

  “Go and look for him?” both of her sisters said simultaneously in disbelief.

  Anjou nodded. “Charles has agreed to help me.” Their brother, Charles, and Aidan had been best friends.

  “Maman and Papa will never agree to that.”

  “They have and they will,” Anjou answered quietly without looking at her sisters. “As soon as father’s enquiries are complete.”

  Beaujolais cried in earnest then. “It truly is the last time we will all be together!”

  None of the sisters argued, but enveloped one another in a hug, wondering how life would change without the other parts of themselves.

  Chapter 1

  Gavin looked at the letter in his hand in utter disbelief. His heart was tearing in two. His brother, wife, and children had been killed when their carriage had slipped down the side of a cliff.

  “This canna be true.” He shook his head and fought back tears.

  “I am afraid it is, my lord.”

  “My lord? No. I doona wish for it. I’m a simple country doctor. I have a humble life and practice here.”

  “I am terribly sorry for your loss, my lord. But you are, in fact, the eleventh Baron Craig now, and thus have some rather large holdings that are your responsibility.”

  “This was not supposed to happen. Iain had three strapping young lads!”

  The solicitor looked grave. “Perhaps, my lord, it would be best for you to return to Castle Craig and see for yourself.”

  The solicitor was met with a blank stare from a set of startling blue eyes; a look that was common to those who had been met with grievous news, but who had not yet assimilated the ensuing change in circumstances.

  “Verra well. I will join you there as soon as I have made arrangements.”

  Gavin went through the motions of closing up his house and seeing his practice into the capable hands of his apprentice, a graduate of Lord Easton’s school. Of late, Gavin had taken many trips into England to the school in Sussex and had toyed with joining it as an instructor on a full-time basis, but he had never been able to cut ties with Scotland. How would he practice medicine as Lord Craig? He would have to find a way, while at the same time doing his best to carry on with his brother’s works in Parliament.

  Gavin had seen more death than most,
but he had not been prepared for the loss of his brother, or of Iain’s wife and children. They had been the last family he’d had left. He had never before given a thought to running the large Castle Craig estate, and hoped desperately that his brother had appointed a trustworthy steward.

  His carriage was loaded with immediate necessities. His servants would send the rest of his belongings with those of his staff who wished to join him at the new residence. He had one final stop before setting off to bury his brother and begin his new life.

  The carriage pulled through the gates of Alberfoyle Priory, one of Lord Vernon’s estates that served as an orphanage. He had become attached to a family of children there; the boy was attending medical school, but the two girls were still in residence. It would pain him to leave these children more than anything else. In fact, since he had no family of his own, perhaps they would consider allowing him to adopt them.

  “Dr. Craig!” Maili Douglas came running when she saw him and greeted him with a hug. She was promptly lifted off her feet into his arms.

  “Hello, my love. Where is your sister?”

  “In the sewing class.”

  “Would you be so good as to retrieve her? I would like to speak to you both.”

  The little girl wrinkled her forehead in concern, but then nodded and skipped off to find her sister. She returned with Catriona, to whom he gave an identical welcome.

  “Hello, lass. You have grown again!”

  “Am I not supposed to grow?”

  “Indeed you are. Only not too fast.” Gavin choked up as he thought of his three nephews, who he would never see again, and who would never grow any older...

  “Why are you sad, Dr. Craig?” Maili asked.

  “I found out that my brother and his family have died.”

  “Like our mama and papa?” Catriona cocked her head up to look at him.

  “Yes, lass. Just like that.”

  Catriona and Maili crawled into his lap to comfort him. “Are you all alone like us now?”

  “I am, and that is part of what I wanted to speak to you about. I have to move away, and will not be able to see you as often.”

  “Please don’t leave us!” the girls cried.

  “I was hoping you would come with me—and Seamus, too, when he is home from school. Would you like that?”

  “Would you be our new papa?” Catriona asked.

  “I would adopt you, yes. But I will never try to replace your papa or mama.”

  The girls threw their arms around his neck.

  “That would be perfect.”

  “I will return for you after I have arranged everything with your guardian and buried my brother.”

  “Must you leave us?”

  “I am afraid so, but I will be back for you soon.” He exchanged hugs with the girls and took his leave to go and bury his brother and his family.

  Gavin sat in the luxurious crested carriage he had brought back from his estate to retrieve the Douglas girls. It had taken several weeks before he had secured the papers of guardianship from the Duke of Loring, who had taken the children on at the behest of his daughter, Beatrice. The children had become endeared of her during her brief time as their governess at Alberfoyle Priory when she had been sent there in disgrace. Gavin had fallen for Lady Beatrice during her stay in Scotland, while her betrothal to Lord Vernon had been broken.

  Gavin shook his head. He had been devastated when Lady Beatrice had chosen Lord Vernon over him, but looking back, he tried to be thankful. Perhaps they would not have been a good match after all, so far apart in station as they had been at the time. He had mistaken her for a gentlewoman fallen on hard times—rather than the daughter of a duke—when she was humbly working as a servant, then as a governess. He had still fallen in love with her, and even now cared for her and wished her well. But everything did happen for a reason he frequently reminded himself. He did not dwell on his disappointment in love, but neither had he given his heart lightly. He vowed silently he would not make the same mistake again. Inheriting his brother’s barony, however, was another matter. If ever there was a man who did not desire to be lord and everything it entailed, it was he.

  He truly loved his life as a doctor. He loved his modest cottage, situated in a beautiful park overlooking the lowland peaks. His father had kept a more humble household, but Iain had had full stables and several vehicles, and Gavin was astonished to find how many changes had been made to the property. His brother had apparently found a way to make the old pile of stones profitable, but Gavin had not had the chance to delve into the estate books. He had spent most of his time sorting out the guardianship of the Douglas girls and seeing to the burial and fulfillment of his brother’s will, then to having his practice taken over by his competent apprentice.

  He did not wish to return to the castle. The castle that once felt like home had felt cold and empty, despite a household of servants. It had not felt right to be there without Iain, his wife, and their boisterous brood of boys. Gavin wondered if he would ever become accustomed to this unwelcome change in circumstance.

  He reached Alberfoyle and gathered together the girls and a nurse who had agreed to stay on with them, and they began the journey to their new life. He hoped the castle would not feel so empty with the girls there.

  Catriona sat in the corner of the carriage, quiet and tearful. Had he done the wrong thing?

  “Have you changed your mind, lass? I doona want you to be unhappy.”

  “No, I have not changed my mind. I will miss my friends, but we will be closer to Seamus. I am thankful to have a home.” She sat primly in the seat across from him with her hands folded, attempting to be brave.

  “I am sad to leave my home, too,” he said gently.

  “I cannot wait,” Maili exclaimed innocently. “We will be living in a castle, with balls and pretty dresses!” Her eyes were wide and her curls bounced enchantingly.

  Gavin chuckled. Oh, to view the world as a child.

  “I doona ken about that, lass. Perhaps when you are older.” He reached out and tussled one of her curls affectionately.

  Maili pouted adorably, and he had visions of her as a lovely maiden with scores of suitors. He dreaded that day. Catriona was already showing signs of maturity and he knew it would not be long before her time came. He realized the girls would need a governess to help with their education as ladies and made a mental note to advertise for one when they reached Castle Craig.

  Maili bounced from window to window and seat to seat, practically climbing the walls of the carriage like a caged monkey Gavin had once seen. She was never quiet, always either singing or talking. She would certainly keep his hands full, he reflected. He had not noticed her enthusiasm before, but he had not been relegated to such a small space with her for long periods. Seamus and Catriona were much calmer children.

  Out of nowhere, Maili climbed into his lap for a snuggle. Earlier, Catriona had fallen asleep against his shoulder. Perhaps they should stop for the night. When alone, he always rode on, eager to be home and not one for roadside inns. He needed to adjust his thinking now that he was a father. He would tell the coachman of the alteration to his plans when next they stopped for a change of horses.

  As they pulled into an inn, a sleepy Maili looked up at him with her large grey eyes. “Papa Craig, when will we get a mama?”

  He choked up at hearing her call him Papa. He looked over at Catriona, who was also looking at him expectantly, waiting for the answer to the question. His heart tightened in his chest.

  “I doona ken, lass. I had not thought to take a wife.”

  Maili frowned and put her head back on his chest. Catriona looked away, disappointed. Gavin felt a tug at his heart, and hoped the girls would be happy enough with him. Once, several years ago, he had dreamt of having a wife and his own family. He loved children and had always wanted a houseful. He had fallen in love once, quickly and deeply, but when that relationship had failed, he had given up on love and marriage. It had been too painful t
o think about for a long time, but he finally felt he had reached contentment. It did not mean he wished to subject himself to it again. He would focus his love on these children.

  The carriage gave a lurch as they stopped at the inn, and Maili unexpectedly proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach all over him. He sighed.

  “Maili! I told you not to eat all of the comfits Mrs. Millbanks sent with you!” Catriona scolded.

  Maili looked up sheepishly at Gavin. It was very hard to be angry at that face.

  “I’m sorry, Papa Craig. I shan’t do it again.”

  “Hopefully you have learned your lesson then. Let us stop for the night to eat, wash, and sleep.”

  After accompanying the girls to their room with their nurse and ordering a supper to be sent up to them, Gavin changed into fresh clothing and made his way to the parlour to find some dinner and have some time to himself. He would have to accustom himself to this new way of life as well. He was shown into the parlour, but was surprised to see a familiar face already seated.

  “Lord Ashbury,” he said as the Marquess stood to greet him.

  “Lord Craig. It is nice to see you again.” Ashbury held out his hand and shook Gavin’s.

  Gavin had made Lord Ashbury and his family’s acquaintance when they had visited Alberfoyle Priory a few years earlier. Lord Vernon had been courting one of the Marquess’s triplet daughters, Lady Margaux. She had been disappointed as well when Lord Vernon had married Lady Beatrice. But Margaux had likely married another by now.

 

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