The Captain of Betrayal

by Claudia Stone

  "All the misery that my father created, was so that I could inherit," Edward shrugged, his eyes a little glazed. "It would give me some amount of satisfaction to tell him that it was all for nothing."

  "You hate him that much?"

  "Look at me," Edward grimaced, as though the mere act of standing brought him pain. "A few years ago, I had a carriage accident and I was brought here to recuperate. My father had become worried that I would blab his secret to the world and he used my incapacitation as an opportunity to bring me to heel."

  "He drugged you?"

  "Laudanum for breakfast, laudanum for lunch; he made me into a well-fed Opium Eater" Edward replied with a soft laugh. "He drove my poor mother to an early grave with his actions and I will surely join her there soon."

  Silence filled the hallway as each man reflected sadly on what Arthur Livingstone had done to his family.

  "I looked for you," Edward said suddenly, his eyes meeting James' sadly. "After you left, after I found out what Mama and Arthur had done, I looked for you, but you had disappeared. You never wrote."

  "I did not think to," James replied stupidly; he had shared but one summer of congeniality with Edward, he had not thought that the boy would have formed any strong attachment to him.

  "So, what happens next?" Edward asked, glancing from James to Everleigh and Keyford.

  "Courts for your father, Chancery for the Estate, and a trip to Cornwall for you, lad," Keyford replied firmly, with a stern look at Edward. "The sea-air will blow the cobwebs out of you, make no mistake, and there's no opium eating under my roof, just hard work and exercise."

  James knew that Keyford acted out of loyalty to the late Earl and that he felt it was his duty to repair the damage done to Horace's nephew. He was rather touched by the older man's words, but had a few of his own to add.

  "Then once you are well again," he said quietly, "You'll come back to London, so that you are near family."

  He had not realised that he was abandoning Edward, when he had left, but now that he and his cousin were reunited, James would not break the tie again. Edward had suffered even more than James had, and he would try to make amends for the past as best as he could.

  "I don't know about you," Keyford said with a smile, his jovial tone breaking the melancholic air of the room. "But I could do with a tankard of ale right now."

  "I could do with a barrel of the stuff," James quipped, "Though first I must return to St James' Square and tell my good, lady wife that she is, in fact, a lady."

  And heaven only knew how Polly would react to that piece of news.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  One Year Later...

  "Are you ready?"

  "As ready as I'll ever be," Polly grumbled in reply.

  She had never felt so anxious in all of her life and if she wasn't Polly the Jack, granddaughter of the legendary boxer Peter Bromwell, and the past queen of the Newcastle streets, she might have had a fit of the vapours. But she was brave, tough and strong, and she had her loving husband by her side, to help her face the forthcoming adversity.

  "There you are," Olive, Duchess of Everleigh called happily, as James and Polly disembarked their carriage. Olive stood beside her husband at the open door of Everleigh House, the Duke's London residence. From behind them, Polly could hear the sound of hundreds of people chattering happily and an orchestra tuning up.

  "You look beautiful Polly," Olive breathed, as Polly and James reached the top step.

  Indeed, even Polly had to concede, that the dress she wore was a masterpiece, stitched together by an irritable French modiste, who had bemoaned Polly's fidgeting. The empire line dress was made of sumptuous, green velvet, and it fell in an elegant sweep to the floor. Polly's hair had been arranged in an upstyle, her wild curls wrestled into place by the lady's maid who had been employed at Olive's recommendation.

  "She's very patient," Olive had said, and indeed the girl had not even blinked as Polly had protested, quite colourfully, against the pain of the process.

  "Beauty is pain," Lara, the lady's maid had replied grimly through a mouthful of pins.

  Polly was quite glad that the girl had not listened to her, for now, looking as rich and glamorous as all the other guests felt almost like a suit of armour. Inside she felt she did not fit in but on the outside, she looked as though she had just as every right to be there as anyone else.

  "They're all staring," Polly whispered with alarm to James, as the footman announced their arrival into the ballroom.

  "Of course they are," James replied, with a placating pat to her hand, "The papers have talked of nothing but the scandal since I had the title restored."

  And there was nothing that the ton loved more than a scandal, Polly thought, as she noted people contorting into strange shapes so they could better catch a glimpse of the Earl and Countess of Ludlow. Still, it wasn't as bad has she had imagined it might be; if only because her imagination had run riot in the days preceding the ball. She had endured visions of snooty Lords and Ladies heckling her, snubbing her, or even mistaking her for a servant, but all she had to tolerate was a few whispers and pointed stares.

  "There you are," Lady Jayne Payne cried, as Polly and James finished their circuit of the ballroom. Jane was, as per usual, playing the wallflower, whilst her husband could be seen chatting loudly to a circle of his acquaintances. Lord and Lady Payne were polar opposites, with Jane being something of an introvert and James being a complete extrovert. Still, once Lord Payne spotted Polly and James, he bounded over to say hello.

  "Lud, I thought I'd never escape that lot," he said, with a swift kiss to Jane's cheek.

  "Really?" Jane lifted an eyebrow in disbelief, "Only two minutes ago I saw you launch into your rendition of The Sailor of Southwark. If I'm not mistaken, that limerick goes on for thirty-nine verses."

  "Thirty-eight, actually," Lord Payne flushed a little, before turning to Polly and James with a warm smile. "Lovely to see you both--are you enjoying the festivities?"

  "Lud, no," Polly confessed. She had always found Lord Payne quite charming and his easy nature invited confidences.

  "The trick is to be seen to be seen, then leave," Payne whispered conspiratorially. "Jane leaves the being seen bit to me, for one usually assumes she is nearby, then we disappear after the first dance."

  "We're not that bad," Jane objected, then looked down at her bump, which was showing despite the generous material of her dress. "At least we weren't before."

  "Now we are like fusty matrons, leaving to rest our feet before ten," Payne finished, though judging from the pure joy on his face, he didn't mind one bit.

  "Poor Hestia can't even last an hour at a ball, she is so far along," Jane whispered to Polly as the men began to discuss politics. Lady Delaney, who had once disguised herself as Jane's lady's maid, was expecting her first child with the Marquess of Falconbridge. Polly was delighted for the young woman, for Hestia had endured a lot of hardship in her life.

  "Everyone is increasing," Polly mused aloud.

  "Everyone?" Jane queried, her eyes mischievous.

  Polly kept her silence and as the orchestra began the first dance, she allowed James to lead her toward the dance floor. This was the moment she had been dreading the most, but thanks to the excellent tutelage of Poppy and Alexandra, who had spent every afternoon of the last week teaching Polly the steps of several dances, she managed to pull off the cotillion with aplomb.

  "We survived," Polly said with a smile, as she and James returned to the safe anonymity of the crowd.

  "We did," James lifted her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss upon it, "And we never have to do that again, if you don't wish to."

  It had been James who had wanted to attend the ball, to give the ton a glimpse of the new Earl of Ludlow and to show them that he was not cowed by his background, or their interest in his parent's scandalous marriage. He had succeeded, for Polly saw several women casting him appreciative glances, whilst the men looked on in envy.


  "I quite enjoyed myself," Polly replied lightly, reaching out to touch his arm, "And perhaps, after the baby is born, we shall hold a ball of our own?"

  "What a splendid idea," James replied, his face momentarily eager before it froze, as her words sank in. "Are you..?"

  "Yes," Polly whispered, so filled with happiness that she felt she might burst. "Are you excited?"

  "Excited doesn't even begin to describe it," James replied, pulling her toward him so that he could place a most unfashionable kiss upon her lips. "You have made me the happiest man alive, Lady Livingstone."

  "And you have made me the happiest woman, James; you are truly the Captain of my Heart."

  #

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  About the Author

  Claudia Stone was born in South Africa but moved to Plymouth as a young girl. Having trained as an actress at RADA, she moved to New York to pursue her dream of acting on Broadway in 1988. She never did see her name in lights, but she did meet a wonderful Irishman called Conal who whisked her away to the wilds of Kerry, where she has lived ever since.

  Claudia and Conal have three children, a dairy farm and a rescue lab called Buddy. When she has any time left over, Claudia enjoys reading Regency as well as writing it.

  Fans can write to Claudia at claudiastoneauthor@mail.com

  If you would like to hear from Claudia about her new releases, you can sign up for her newsletter by clicking the link below:

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  #

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The Regency Black Hearts Collection

  Three wonderful tales of couples whose love meets a few hiccups, stutters, and out and out villains on the path to happily ever after.

  Proposing to a Duke

  At the age of five and twenty, confirmed spinster Isabella Peregrine is given an unexpected ultimatum by her new step-mother: find a husband or I'll find one for you.

  Thoroughly in a tizz, Isabella proposes a marriage of convenience to the nearest male to her - who just so happens to be the brooding, intimidating Duke of Blackmore. When he rebuffs her clumsy advances, Isabella leaves for London, determined to find the man of her dreams and soothe her bruised ego.

  Michael Linfield, Duke of Blackmore is a legendary, fearsome, war hero; famous for reducing debutantes and their mothers to floods of tears with just one glance. The brooding, giant of a man is hiding a secret however - a debilitating stammer that has haunted him since childhood. When the delightful Miss Peregrine proposes a marriage of convenience to him - with no benefits - Michael is so startled that his stammer reappears and all he can manage to reply is "N-n-no".

  When news of Isabella's success in London soon reaches his ears, Michael is determined to go to town and win her as his own, if only she'll give him a second chance at love.

  The Duke's Brother

  Can a Duke's bastard win the heart of a lady?

  Plucked as an orphan from the slums of St. Giles' by his half-brother the Duke of Blackmore, Sebastian Black soon rises to become one of the richest men in London, and a notorious rake to boot. His time at Eton has left him with a healthy disregard for the aristocracy - that is until he inadvertently becomes involved in the affairs of the prim, proper and snooty Aurelia St Claire.

  Aurelia's brother, Lord Theodore Epsom, was reported missing after Waterloo, but she is convinced that she has sighted him alive and well in London. The pair join forces to try to discover exactly what happened to Theo and as their sleuthing takes them into London's murky back alleys, they discover that they aren't so different after all.

  Can two people overcome their prejudices, their foibles - or even their very history - to find love?

  A Lady Like No Other

  "Would my lady care to dance?"

  "My lady would rather eat a live chicken."

  Beautiful, titled, and wealthy to boot, Lady Lydia Beaufort was expected to have a spectacular London Season. There was just one problem; the eccentric daughter of the Earl of Galway had no intention of becoming the ton's darling. Especially if it involved humouring the awful herds of fortune hunters and greedy second sons, intent on making her their bride.

  All Lydia wanted was to be left alone in peace, to read her beloved Lord Byron. That is until an incorrigible rogue of a Marquess burst into her life, and turned all her ideas about love upside down.

  Charming, congenial, and ever so handsome, Gabriel Livingstone, Marquess of Sutherland could have his pick of any of the season's debutantes, but the only rose he longed to pluck, was the very thorny Lady Beaufort. Just when he thinks he might finally have won her heart, fate, in the form of an Italian Count, a mischievous Gypsy and a political assassination plot, gets in his way.

  Can this mismatched pair find their happily ever after?

  Click on the link below to view on Amazon:

  https://www.amazon.com/Regency-Black-Hearts-Collection-Three-ebook/dp/B074YYRQMR/ref=la_B06WVL4PNT_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1507563442&sr=1-4