by Wolf, Bree
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Book
Free gift
Prologue
Chapter One – A Whisper Heard
Chapter Two – A Call for Aid
Chapter Three – A Dark Moment
Chapter Four – A Helpless Pawn
Chapter Five – A Lucky Hand
Chapter Six – All Shall be Well
Chapter Seven – Under One Condition
Chapter Eight – A Good Man
Chapter Nine – A Lady’s Consent
Chapter Ten – A Man with Two Faces
Chapter Eleven – A New Beginning
Chapter Twelve – Behind a Marriage
Chapter Thirteen – A Misunderstanding
Chapter Fourteen – A New Life
Chapter Fifteen – A Mother’s Honesty
Chapter Sixteen – A Father’s Visit
Chapter Seventeen – A Husband’s Word
Chapter Eighteen – The Meaning of Anger
Chapter Nineteen – A Changed Man
Chapter Twenty – A Stroll in Hyde Park
Chapter Twenty-One − Longing
Chapter Twenty-Two – To Feel Safe
Chapter Twenty-Three – A Truth Revealed
Chapter Twenty-Four – Sisters At Last
Chapter Twenty-Five – Open Words
Chapter Twenty-Six – A Child Come Home
Chapter Twenty-Seven – Return to an Old Life
Chapter Twenty-Eight – A Man from her Past
Chapter Twenty-Nine – A Threat
Chapter Thirty − Amends
Chapter Thirty-One – Past Demons
Chapter Thirty-Two – Daughter Mine
Chapter Thirty-Three – Childhood Friends
Chapter Thirty-Four – Once Upon a Time
Chapter Thirty-Five – A Revelation Long Awaited
Chapter Thirty-Six – A Return to Hyde Park
Chapter Thirty-Seven – A Father’s Goodbye
Chapter Thirty-Eight – A Moment of Clarity
Epilogue
Also By Bree
Overview Love's Second Chance Series
Read a Sneak-Peek of
Prologue
Overview A Forbidden Love Novella Series
About Bree
Destroyed & Restored
The Baron’s Courageous Wife
(#12 Love’s Second Chance Series)
by Bree Wolf
Destroyed & Restored - The Baron’s Courageous Wife
by Bree Wolf
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, brands, media, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Art by Victoria Cooper
Copyright © 2019 Sabrina Wolf
www.breewolf.com
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To our children
A blessing each and every one of them
Acknowledgements
My thank-you to all of you who've helped with feedback, typo detection, character and plot development, editing, formatting, cover creation, and the biggie…spreading the word…so that countless readers can now enjoy these stories of love's second chance.
To name only a few: Michelle Chenoweth, Monique Taken, Zan-Mari Kiousi, Tray-Ci Roberts, Kim Brougher, Vicki Goodwin, Denise Boutin, Elizabeth Greenwood, Corinne Lehmann, Lynn Herron, Karen Semones, Maria DB, Kim O'Shea, Tricia Toney, Deborah Montiero, Keti Vezzu, Patty Michinko, Lynn Smith, Vera Mallard, Isabella Nanni, Carol Bisig, Susan Czaja, Teri Donaldson, Anna Jimenez and Tammy Windsor.
About the Book
A fearful lady. A shamed lord.
And a hand at cards that will change both their lives.
Terrified of her father’s temper, LADY ADELAIDE has lived a life of complete obedience. However, now, when her father threatens to gamble away her hand in marriage in the next card game, she turns to a trusted friend for help.
A plan is hatched and put into motion to save Adelaide from an unfortunate marriage…by marrying her to a suitable man…by a young woman’s standards.
After allowing his father to manipulate him all his life, MATTHEW TURNER, BARON WHITWORTH, sees himself as the black sheep of the family, distrusted by all. So when his cousin asks for his help to save a raven-haired lady from a painful marriage, he agrees immediately. Before long, Matthew comes to realise that the woman he is to protect is the very woman he has been admiring from afar for a while.
What will Matthew do when his cousin urges him to marry Lady Adelaide in order to free her from her father’s influence? Will he confess his love? Or will they live side by side forever?
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Prologue
London, spring 1807 (or a variation thereof)
“You deserve this!” Matthew’s father sneered as he glared down at his nephew Tristan, aiming the pistol in his hands at the young man’s heart. “You were never worthy!”
Matthew’s own heart tightened painfully in his chest as he watched in shock. As he saw Tristan’s gaze shift to his wife, tears streaming down her face. As he saw her scramble to her feet, desperate to save her husband’s life. As he saw his own father for the man he truly was.
A madman.
Consumed by greed.
About to become a murderer and rip their family apart for good.
Before Matthew had formed a conscious thought, he felt himself move. He felt himself lunge forward, arms outstretched toward his father. He felt his heart thudding in his chest and his breath catch in his throat as all eyes turned to him in shock.
Then he saw his father move.
Swing around.
Toward him.
The pistol in his hands finding a new target.
And then a deafening sound shattered the peaceful stillness of the early morning air. Instantly, Matthew was thrown backwards into the wet grass of the clearing, red hot pain searing through his left shoulder.
With a groan, Matthew Turner, Baron Whitworth, shot up in bed, his heart beating through his chest as though it was trying to flee his body and seek cover elsewhere. Sweat trickled down his temples, and his breath came in ragged gasps. His eyes were wide open, and yet, they did not see the dim surroundings of his chamber. All they saw were the white clouds that had hung in the pale blue sky that morning. All he heard were his father’s angry snarls. All he felt was the fresh pain drilling a hole into his heart.
His fingers travelled to his left shoulder and slipped under his shirt, finding the small scar where the bullet had broken his skin and dug itself into his body. And yet, it had been his heart that had hurt the most. So excruciating had been the pain, that for a moment Matthew had been certain the bullet had found its mark perfectly.
Closing his eyes, Matthew brushed the hair from his face, then flung back the blanket and stepped from the bed. The cool floorboards felt heavenly under his heated feet, and he welcomed the chill of the early morning air as it sent shivers over his body.
Yet another night had ended before it should have, he surmised, p
ulling back the curtains and staring outside at the darkened sky. His nightmares always found him sometime after midnight, dragging him back to the morning when he had finally realised the truth.
That his father had been a madman. A man willing to murder his own blood in order to steal title and fortune for himself.
And for his son.
For Matthew.
And Matthew had not seen it. In fact, he had always believed his father when the man had spoken harshly of Tristan’s faults. He had always agreed that Tristan had brought shame to their family and had not deserved to hold the title passed on to him by his father. Always had Matthew berated his cousin for his inappropriate behaviour, unable to see that all Tristan’s demons had been conjured by none other than his own father.
Remembering the crazed look on his father’s face, Matthew closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath. Fortunately−if that was indeed the right word! −Matthew had not died that day.
And neither had Tristan.
In the nick of time, when Matthew’s father had once more advanced on his nephew after accidentally shooting his own son, Tristan’s sister had arrived on the scene. Henrietta had always been an unusual woman, and as Matthew now knew, she had always protected her little brother from their uncle’s destructive plans. It had been Henrietta who had stopped their uncle for good, her dagger’s aim true as it always was.
If it had not been for her, Tristan would have died that day, and who knew who else would have followed him to the grave. Matthew sighed. Indeed, it was good that she had come. That she had stopped his father. That she had saved them all.
Matthew knew this to be true, and he also knew that the part of him that felt regret was the most selfish part of him there was. Still, he could not help but regret his father’s death for it had robbed him of any hope for closure.
For answers.
Leaning his forehead against the cool pane of the window, Matthew closed his eyes, knowing that his mind would immediately conjure the morning in Hyde Park that had changed his life. Guilt and shame flooded him for having allowed his father to deceive−to manipulate−him so easily.
All his life, Matthew had sought his father’s approval, his praise, his attention, and it had blinded him to the truth. Always had he been jealous of Tristan because all his father would concern himself with was his young nephew.
But never his son.
Never him.
Never Matthew.
Gritting his teeth, Matthew felt the strong urge to put his fist through the glass. He had been selfish and vain and foolish, and it had almost destroyed them all.
Still, Tristan had forgiven him. More than that. Tristan had not even wanted to hear of an apology when Matthew had sought him out after the shooting. He had looked him in the eyes and said that they had all been equally blind and that he was not to blame.
Matthew had been thunderstruck by his cousin’s kind heart, and the guilt and shame that had taken up permanent residence in his soul had grown tenfold that day. He had vowed then that he would do whatever he could to prove himself to his family.
To prove his love.
His loyalty.
His devotion.
To prove to himself that he was not the man his father had been. To prove to himself that he was a good man. To redeem himself in his own eyes as much as in theirs. To become his own person and not live his life in his father’s image.
Again, his fingers curled into a fist, and Matthew had to step away from the window to resist temptation.
As irony would have it, not long after his father’s death, Matthew had inherited the title of baron through his mother’s line when a distant cousin had died childless in a riding accident. The day he had received the news had been one of the darkest days of his life.
To Matthew, it was as though his father was reaching out his hands from the grave, forcing his idea of right and wrong on him. Forcing Matthew to live the life his father had been willing to kill for.
Would he ever feel at peace again? Would he ever be able to look at himself in the mirror and not feel shame and guilt? Would he ever be his own man? Or was he doomed to follow in his father’s footsteps?
He would do anything to gain back even just the smallest piece of respect he used to have for himself.
Anything.
Before it was too late.
Chapter One – A Whisper Heard
Adelaide Cartwright, daughter to the Earl of Radcliff, smiled when she saw the joy on Tillie’s face as the two-year-old girl chased after snowflakes. Bundled up, only the little girl’s face was visible, her cheeks reddened from the cold and the exertion of stomping through the snow-covered garden. Her eyes glowed with delight, and even when she stumbled and fell, she quickly pushed herself back up onto her feet, laughter spilling from her mouth with the unhindered joy of the young.
Almost desperately, Adelaide wished she could abandon her concerns for the girl’s future as well as her own and join in her happiness. But try as she might, her mind would not relinquish its concerns. They were present day and night, making her heart ache painfully and her head throb with vigour.
Although her unmarried, elder brother had claimed Tillie as his, the little girl was still illegitimate. A bastard. A child without worth as far as society was concerned.
Never would she know respect as others did. Never would she be met with kindness. Never would she know her mother.
Blinking back the tears that threatened, Adelaide inhaled a deep breath of the crisp winter air. If only she could spare Tillie the fate that awaited her. At only two years of age, the girl was not yet aware of the circumstances of her birth. However, before long, she would be, and Adelaide knew that that day would break her heart as well.
Waving to the cheerful little girl, Adelaide vowed that she would do whatever she could to ensure Tillie’s happiness…even if she had no idea how to go about it.
Looking up, Adelaide noticed her mother and grandmother coming down the path toward her. Their heads were tilted toward one another, and even from a distance away, Adelaide could tell that their faces held concern.
Instantly, her stomach twisted into knots.
Had her father found her another suitor? Someone who suited his ideas of a son-in-law? Someone with fortune and title? Someone he had become acquainted with on his own escapades all over town? Someone he had met in yet another gambling hell? Someone…he owed money to?
Bright spots began to dance before Adelaide’s eyes, and for a moment, she thought she would be ill. Inhaling a deep breath, she willed herself not to despair. As much as she wished to curl up on her bed and forget the world around her, it would not solve her problems. It would not serve her.
Forcing her chin up, Adelaide glanced at Tillie, ensuring that the girl was still otherwise occupied and had not ventured over. Then she met her mother’s eyes and understood the pity and regret she saw there exactly for what they were.
Her doom.
After she had lost Lord Arlton’s regard−thanks to the interference of a friend of hers! −Adelaide had hoped to find a suitable match before her father could interfere again. However, she had not been fortunate to meet a decent and honourable young man, let alone win such a man’s heart. None of the young gentlemen she had danced with and spoken to had appealed to her heart either. Indeed, always had she taken note of something in their character that had warned her to stay away. Either they had been conceited, greedy, ill-tempered or vain. She could not in good conscience have married any of them for they all reminded her of the many darker aspects of her father’s character. Was there in all of London not a single eligible, young man of good character and with a kind heart?
If there was, it seemed that she could not find him…at least not in time.
By the time her mother and grandmother reached her side, Adelaide was swaying on her feet. As much as she counselled herself to stay strong, doing so was a different matter. Day by day, her strength seemed to weaken. Her heart no longer hoped, and her sou
l ached so acutely that she began to feel despair weighing heavily on her. “What is it?” she finally prompted after her mother and grandmother continued to exchange one wary glance after another. “I can tell from the look on your faces that whatever you have to say is not good. Please, do not keep me in suspense.”
Her mother sighed, her gaze drifting to the ground.
Stepping forward, her grandmother placed a gentle hand on Adelaide’s clenched ones, her kind eyes seeking hers. “Although he’s promised otherwise, it seems your father is still gambling.”
Adelaide inhaled a slow breath, not surprised by this statement in the least. What was it that her grandmother was trying to tell her?
“However,” she continued, “since he has by now lost most of his fortune as well as the smaller estates not entailed, he has been heard to…” Her grandmother drew in a steadying breath, which sent a cold shiver down Adelaide’s back, especially since her grandmother was not one to hedge. Indeed, she was one of only a handful of women of Adelaide’s acquaintance who always stood tall, who never bowed her head. “He’s been heard to…offer your hand in marriage.”
Although Adelaide had expected life-shattering news, she still could not prevent the shock to knock the air from her lungs. Her body ached as though someone had truly landed a fist in her belly, and she almost toppled over at the force of such devastation. “Are you certain?” she asked in-between heaving gasps, her hand pressed to her heart, willing it to calm down. “How would you even come to know such a thing?”
Her grandmother sighed, “I’ve learnt long ago, my dear, to have ears and eyes everywhere. Knowledge can be equally powerful as money.”
“Can it?” Adelaide scoffed, repulsed by the despair that rang in her voice. “If what you say is true, then there is nothing that can be done. Father will surely lose my hand soon enough, and then I’ll be forced to marry a man of weak character. A man who gambles. A man who indulges in spirits every day of the week. A man who is most likely hot-tempered and ill-mannered, dominating those around him without regard for anyone’s well-being other than his own.” Her gaze shifted to her mother’s tear-streaked face. “I will have a marriage like yours, Mother, and we all know the happiness it has brought you.”