A Lord's Redemption: A Historical Romance (Unexpected Love Book 2)

by Anna Macy

  A Lord’s Redemption:

  A Historical Romance

  By:

  Anna Macy

  The following text is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, businesses, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or are being used fictitiously.

  A Lord’s Redemption: A Historical Romance

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  PREFACE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  PREFACE

  Robert Wains, the future Viscount of Devonshire and heir to the Wains Shipbuilding empire, stood by the historic chapel's silk draped altar. He caught the eye of the officiant, who gave him a brief smile followed with a solidifying nod. Robert didn’t smile back. His face felt frozen, stiff, as if unable to express any emotion other than polite disinterest.

  Growing up among the ton, Robert knew how to play the part of a devout, respectful peer. After all, it would be the role of his lifetime. Glancing around the packed chapel, he caught the eye of his mother, sitting in the front row, an ageless reminder of what today would mean for not just him but the entire family.

  Subtly his mother, the pristine Lady Catherine of Devonshire, gave him a supportive half-smile. Robert swallowed hard as all eyes turned to the double doors opening at the end of the aisle. Light snow swirled into the church, chilling the air and drawing his eyes away from his parent. There stood the woman of the day, whom they were all there to celebrate.

  Lady Juliet of Greystone was the perfect bride; her favorite magenta dress set off her fair skin perfectly, highlighting the deep red interwoven in her brunette locks, now curled and tumbling from a knot high on her head. Dark, intelligent eyes, with straight, serious brows set over a lovely face, looked his way. Her full lips quirked; whether in worry or excitement, he wasn’t certain.

  Robert swallowed, focusing on keeping his face emotionless. As the bride stepped forward, her mother, also a dark beauty, moved to take her arm and accompany her the remaining steps towards them.

  Robert took two steps down, reaching out to take Juliet’s hand in his own. Her fingers were cool and clenched his tightly. Her smile, though, radiated love. He almost gave just then, wishing he could lean in to kiss her cheek one last time.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he bowed over Juliet’s hand and guided her up the stone stairs he’d only just descended. At the top stair, staring down at Juliet as if the entire world existed inside of her, was William Huntington, one of his oldest and dearest friends, and the new Marquess of Mansfield Park. Today, he had one additional title to add to his already lengthy name.

  Husband.

  Gingerly, Robert handed Juliet off to William. Her striking face was shining with joy as she stared at the man who would be her partner for life. Robert stepped back quickly, standing behind his dear friend as together the bride and groom said the vows that would seal their fates together, for all time.

  Only a few months before, Robert had been betrothed to Juliet. While he hadn’t been eager for his wedding day, there had been peace and enjoyment in knowing that his future lay with the beautiful Earl’s daughter. But then he’d become wrapped up in the family business, lost his focus, and ignored his future bride.

  The night she met William, every part of that planned out future with Juliet had disappeared. But William and Juilet were made for each other. It was so blatantly apparent that even Robert had seen it only days after they’d met.

  And as he watched William kiss her, he felt no anger towards either of them. Only a small amount of lingering regret. Not because he’d lost Juliet, but because suddenly Robert felt very alone.

  He clapped loudly along with the other viewers as the new Marquess and Marchioness faced the crowd, their faces flushed with joy and laughter. William snagged his bride for one more kiss before escorting her back through the throng of people waiting to celebrate further.

  Robert hung back. His mother, a fierce, petite, silver-haired woman, slipped her hand through his elbow.

  “Are you alright, Robert?” Her voice was cultured, smooth, and to him, incredibly soothing.

  Robert’s heart ached for a moment. Oddly afraid, he had somehow disappointed his mother. “I will be fine.”

  “That’s not what I asked,” Catherine said.

  Robert sighed, pinning a smile on his face as he escorted his mother through the chapel. “Mother, please, let’s not discuss this now.” Catherine sniffed, obviously displeased at his answer. It made him chuckle. “This is Juliet and William’s day. You know as well as I do that William deserves this chance.”

  “Perhaps, but I wish it didn’t come at the expense of my son’s happiness.” Catherine's voice darkened with implication.

  Robert smiled at her, his cheeks flushed pink against the winter breeze that now blew through the entryway. “I did not love her, Mother. I respected her, admired her even, but that does not equate to love. I’m happy for the two of them. Truly.”

  They each donned the cloaks and scarves that two uniformed footmen held out. Robert smirked at his mother. “And besides, don’t act like you wouldn’t trade me for William the first chance you’d get.”

  This time it was Catherine who laughed, quickly covering her mouth daintily with one gloved hand. “Robert! The horrible things you say.”

  Together they walked through the drifting snow, back towards the estate’s manor. Mansfield Park was alight with the sounds of music, chatter, and the cheering of people. Robert smiled widely, his face finally relaxing.

  “I believe I might be jealous,” Robert found himself saying suddenly.

  “There’s no shame in that. Juliet and William are something remarkable.” Catherine stopped just inside of the foyer, turning to let the butler take her wraps. “But now you have a chance to find your own love.”

  Catherine’s eyes swept the room, her shoulders straightening as she settled into her role as matriarch. “Now, I’ve got to go find your sister. And be a dear and keep your friends out of trouble.”

  Robert smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. After this experience, Robert felt like love was even further away than ever, and perhaps just not worth his time. Love, he had realized, was far more complicated than he had time for.

  Robert put on his best smile and snagged a glass of champagne off a passing tray. It was time to move on.

  ONE

  Two weeks later.

  “Robert, come here, please.”

  Robert Wainsd cringed. The words may as well have been the crack of a whip for the strain they inflicted upon him. Grumbling, he changed directions. Whereas he had been only steps away from finding something more robust than champagne to fill his belly with, now, he was faced with the dreaded task of crossing the thickly crowded theater reception area.

  Taking a deep, settling breath, Robert stared out into the mixed company of satin frocks and midnight black waistcoats. He schooled his expression into one of reserved politeness, as befitting his role as the heir to the Devonshire estate. His father and namesake was a Viscount, and powerful businessman often celebrated for his cunning business practices and perfectly well-mannered family.

  At least that’s what they all thought, these Lords, Dukes, Ladies who milled all around him. Their blood as blu
e as his own, staring at him as if he were a spectacle awaiting discovery. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he saw a member or two of the royal bloodline steal away to the balcony area.

  Lucky bastards, he thought wistfully. There was no escaping the stares tonight, his first outing since he’d returned to the family townhouse in London.

  Some men would’ve basked in the attention, preening and smiling for the crowd, flirting with the ladies. But that wasn’t his persona. It had never been. Robert hated every glance, every look that followed him as he shouldered his way through in a manner that left zero room for idle chatter or small talk.

  His mother’s sharp eyes were flitting over his form with a severity that many would’ve mistaken for cruel. But Robert knew better. Maybe, the Lady Catherine Wains of Devonshire was not one to be trifled with, but her heart was as pure and loving as they came. She raised her family to be bold, gracious, and above all, proper.

  The past few months had been wearing on her. His father had been detained in the Indies, and his sister was deep in the throes of a public heartache. Not to mention the noblewoman to whom Robert had been betrothed ended up marrying his best friend instead. If Catherine’s hair hadn’t already been a deep shade of silver, it surely would be now.

  That’s why he’d been coerced into joining her for this evening’s performance. His younger sister must’ve also felt the same pity as she was the third member of their party this evening. While Laura, his youngest sibling, was only thirteen, their mother was already grooming her for her debut into society in a few years. Appearances like tonight were essential for a young lady with Laura’s potential.

  Much to Catherine’s horror, he was sure Laura was far more concerned about the state of politics in London than she ever was with the gossip of the ton. She would be a feisty one, he knew, and part of him feared what it would be like for her after her debut. But that didn’t change the fact that his sisters were among his favorite people in the world.

  Even if the performance tonight had been lacking, the chance to make his sister and mother happy was not something he passed up lightly. Passing by another gaggle of ladies who were subtly pointing his way, Robert felt his fair cheeks flush.

  In hindsight, he wished he could’ve made it up to them another time. For the first time in a long time, being the center of attention was making him quite miserable. He’d forgotten how things were last season. He’d spent most of the time working or traveling for the family business. When he’d finally been home, he’d fallen into an agreeable betrothal with his sister’s dear friend.

  At that point, he was off the market and had been able to spend what little time he’d had in the spotlight with friends. But that was before the events of the fall.

  Now he was the man who’s fiance married another man, a Marquess. While he wished William and Juliet every happiness, it was he who had to deal with the consequences of their recent marriage. They were happily holed up in William’s family estate, Mansfield Park, enjoying every second of each other’s company, he was sure.

  And he was here, surrounded by snow, whispers, and sad, pitying stares. What an exciting change of events.

  Robert leaned down to brush his lips over his mother’s silken powdered cheek. Dreading filling his gut as he moved to look at her companions. Of course, the first was his youngest sister Laura, who looked at him with a wan smile on her delicate face.

  For a moment, he felt panic; she would be pretty, just like his oldest sister Marian. As their brother, it fell to him to take care of them, to be sure that they weren’t hurt. It was a heavy burden to bear, and he had failed once before. If he had been better, more aware, he could’ve stopped the manipulation and lies that had destroyed Marian’s heart.

  He would be better for her now. And better for Laura.

  “Robert, I’m not sure that you’ve met Lady Carol of Newell and her lovely daughters, Helen and Rose.” His mother was smiling brightly, presenting these two young, bejeweled women to his view. Their mother looked on with a smug smile, obviously proud of her offspring.

  “Lady Carol, Miss Helen, Miss Rose, lovely to meet you all,” Robert finished with a slow, courteous bow over Lady Carol’s hand. Straightening, he faced down his mother with a cautious look. He had been graced with his father’s build, tall, broadly built, much like the ships that his family had been producing for generations.

  His hands were not the soft, manicured hands of the gentile, but rough, wood hardened from the days he spent at the newly constructed Port of London docks overseeing his family’s business. The ton overlooked this characteristic, tutting over the Wains and their infamous work ethic. When you were one of the oldest, purest families in England, no one cared if you had callouses.

  His mother’s elbow caught him somewhere below the ribs with a gentle prod. Robert gave a practiced smile, dredging up a few classic topics for small talk, watching as the young ladies primed and pursed at him as they spoke. It was daunting, and he had little interest nor time for another woman in his life.

  After Juliet had married William, Robert warned his mother that he was done with hers and Marian’s matchmaking, at least while he continued to learn his family’s business. He thought they had all been in agreement. Apparently, that was incorrect.

  He sighed. The ladies he currently had in his life more than took up his time, and while he would never change his family, it was a lot to shoulder for any man.

  Sensing his waning interest, Catherine jumped back into the conversation about some renovations taking place at their townhouse this spring. While both Newell girls nodded and smiled along with his mother, he could feel their curious gaze remain on him.

  He shifted his shoulders inside his waistcoat, feeling the tightness of the tailored wool stretch over his body. Sweat dampened his brow.

  Forget the drink or the second act; he had to escape this place.

  Thankfully, Mama Carol must’ve honed in on Robert’s polite but aloof manner, and within a few minutes, the three of them sauntered away back towards their box. Relief, warm and welcome, swelled through his chest. He dared not look at his mother’s face.

  “Well, that was uncomfortable,” Laura’s soft voice broke the silence, the edge of humor in it making him grin.

  “Laura, contain yourself,” Catherine muttered under her breath, a bright smile holding on her handsome face.

  “Oh, Mother, it’s not like anyone can hear us.” Laura's eyes threatened to roll, but Robert caught them quickly with his own, shaking his head. This was not the place. Ever the rebel, she promptly stuck her tongue out at him, the flash of pink gone before their mother saw.

  Robert snorted, covering his mouth with a hand. “Thank you for those introductions Mother, they seem like pleasant enough young ladies,” Robert said stoically, his eyes not leaving his sister’s dancing eyes and daring her to keep quiet.

  “Of course, dear, just thinking of your future.” Catherine looked at him with rampant hope in her eyes. Again, sweat crept down his back. “Shall we return to our seats?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Robert fidgeted. He was a horrible liar. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I won’t be able to stay with you and Laura for the second act.”

  Catherine glanced at Laura, wide blue-grey eyes blinking rapidly. “Why precisely?”

  “I’ve got some work I need to finish down at the docks,” Robert spoke smoothly. It wasn’t entirely a lie. There was always something waiting for him to do at the Port, and at the moment, it seemed like a far better way to spend his evening than under the judgmental gaze of every single female, and her mother, in town.

  Catherine narrowed her eyes, staring hard at her son. She swallowed, and for a moment, her hand rose as if she were to pat him on the cheek. Halfway through the air, she must’ve realized the impropriety of the act and dropped her hand quickly. Her cheeks flushed pale pink for a moment.

  “Whatever you need, Robert dear.”

  He swallowed hard, shoveling down the guilt. Leaning forwa
rd, he again kissed his mother’s cheek. Pushing a smile to his lips, he mouthed a quick goodbye to Laura. His sister glared at him with innate suspicion. He fled before she could ask any questions.

  Minutes later, Robert was down the stairs, the thick red carpets under his feet passing like a blur in his distracted gaze. Stepping through the doors, held by two liveried footmen, Robert found himself in the resounding silence of the winter night. Putting his hands on his hips, Robert considered his options.

  He couldn’t go home to the Devonshire townhouse. His family would know he lied when they returned home. Not to mention Marian was there.

  He couldn’t take the family’s carriage to the Port, nor could he walk there. And on top of that, Robert wasn’t really sure that he actually wanted to spend the rest of his night working. In the stillness of the winter air, his mind finally calmed. Leaning back, Robert breathed in the sharp cold, delighting in the jolt of clarity that came with it.