Reckless in Innocence ~ A #Free Historical Romance story ~ Part Twenty-two

Reckless in Innocence

for my Historical Romance readers

© Jane Lark

Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark, this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Reckless in Innocence

Reckless in Innocence


Read the earlier parts 

one , two, three,four,five,six,seven,eight,nineten,eleven,twelvethirteen,fourteen,fifteen,sixteenseventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one


Chapter Seven



When she was certain that Marcus was out of sight, Elizabeth dropped from the table to the floor. She winced as she walked across the scattered broken glass, on the wooden parquet flooring. Sharp fragments pierced the soles of her feet.

“What are you doing? The floor is covered with glass.”

Her gaze lifted to his face.

His brown eyes glittered with a hazy look that said he had been drinking all evening. “I am going to my room, Marcus, let me go.”

He filled her only exit, standing in the centre of the door frame. She would not have the strength to get past him unless he let her go.

He stared at her, the decanter clutched in his hand. “Am I an ogre now then? Someone to be afraid of? Elizabeth, you are being ridiculous.”

He set the decanter down on a small round table just inside the door, then reached to lift her up off her feet.

“I will walk.” She evaded him.

“Damn it, Elizabeth, you are cutting your feet to shreds. I am wearing boots, let me carry you.”

Before she could argue, he had caught her up and sat her back on top of the billiard table.

He left her, and in a moment returned, with two glasses of dark honey coloured liquid.

“Have you ever drunk brandy before?” he asked, putting a glass on the green felt beside her. He then lifted his glass and took a mouthful of the brandy before setting it down on the edge of the table.


His fingers picked up her foot, curving about the arch as he looked at the sole and began to pull splinters of glass from her skin.  “Then try it. It warms the soul.”

Knowing she could not escape, she picked up the large bowl like glass and sipped from it, if only to take her mind from the fingers which held her leg by the ankle and caressed her foot. The liquid was bitter in her mouth and it burned her throat like fire, she choked a little and set it down.

He took a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against her foot.

“Why did you walk in the glass?” His gaze lifted to her face, awaiting her answer.

“Why did you break it?”

“I told you. I am afraid of the dark. I was chasing away demons.”

“I do not believe that you are afraid of anything.”

“Then you do not know me well enough.”

He let her right foot fall and picked up her left. He pulled a glass splinter from the ball of her foot, then instead of pressing the wound against his handkerchief, he put it to his lips.

“You should take more care of yourself, Elizabeth.”

“So should you. You drink too much.”

“Every woman would say that of a man.”

“My mother has never said it to my father, and he is always drunk.”

“But you have said it to him… Yes?”

She shook her head. “No. My father is better drunk than sober. My brother and I were afraid if he did not have a drink. His temper is worse when he is desperate for another bottle. When he drinks it he is too weak to care for anything anyone does.”

“Then you said it to me because you do not want me to be like your father.”

His left hand held her foot, his fingers stroking the curve of the arch and his right hand reached for his glass of brandy. He lifted it to his lips and drank.

“I do not want you to drink because it does not suit you. I have never seen you drink like my father, or be drunk like my father. You need not fear that you would ever be like him.”

His forehead furrowed at her.

“Are you drinking to chase away your demons? Why? Are you hiding something, or escaping it?”



No one other than Jason had challenged his actions, or his thoughts. He let her foot fall from his grasp. He did not care to be judged.

“I am not…” Denial was the easiest response.

Elizabeth shifted on to the table and sat cross-legged, setting her hands down behind her and leaning back. Marcus drew a deep breath into his lungs as the candlelight turned her worn linen nightgown translucent. He saw the shape of her breast silhouetted in the light which shone through the cloth, and even the deep red colour of the nipple was clear through the thin fabric.

“I have tried all night to understand you, and I cannot. You make no sense to me at all.”

“Have I ever asked you to understand me.”

“Why are your brother’s friends here and not your own?”

“Hunting and country pursuits are not their thing, as much as they are not mine.”

“Hiding, Marcus, or running?” The girl was growing in confidence. He backed away and drew a cue from the rack. She turned her head, watching him. He threw her a smile.

“If you insist,” he sighed as he turned back, half laughing, but it was a weary sound. “The full answer; I have no real friends, not as Jason and Angela do. Cartwright, Armitage, Coulport, they are all acquaintances. We can take pleasure in each others’ company but there is no loyalty there.” He walked to the far side of the table and put down his drink, then lined up a white ball. He aimed it at a pocket and took the strike with a sharp hit. The white ball went charging into a pocket. He picked up another and placed it, then hit it so it spun and pulled back his cue allowing the ball to roll backwards into a corner pocket.

“What about you, Elizabeth? Do you have friends at home?”

“Father scared them all away, friends and tutors both. And my brother too, the minute he was eighteen.”

His lips caught up in one corner, but he was not smiling, he was not in a mood to smile.

“My turn to ask a question,” Elizabeth challenged. “Why do you keep Larchfield so well staffed and in such immaculate order and never come to stay here? Angela said that it is haunted.”

That caught his attention. He laid the cue on the green felt and walked around the table.

“Did she? Well Angela should learn to keep her thoughts to herself.” He was close to her, his glass in his hand, and he stopped to watch her.

“And you should share yours. You are hiding, Marcus, and running.”

An ache spread through his chest, a pain which ran into his veins. He wanted to untie her plait and spread her hair across her shoulders, comb his fingers through its length.

“Who are your ghosts? Tell me.”

He breathed deeply, swallowed the last mouthful of his brandy and set down his glass, then he reached out to pick up the glass at her side. “Do you want this?” He lifted the glass which he’d poured for her. She shook her head. He drank that too. But when he took the glass from his lips her fingers settled gently on his wrist.

“Hiding, Marcus?” This time the accusation was softer.

Yes, he was running from her internally, but his feet did not move. “My father and my mother.”

She looked surprised.

“They are my ghosts, I suppose. My father was not a drunk, nor a gambler, but he was a poor man in spirit. He was not wise, or strong. He could not manage his own house let alone the estate, and my mother hounded him with bitter words of condemnation to his death. He committed the unforgivable sin. He took his own life.”

“Here at Larchfield?”

“Yes. And it is not I who set the place up with a hundred servants and managed it to succeed as it does. That is my mother’s doing. It was all established in her will, to the last detail of how it should be. You see she knew me, Elizabeth, the worthless wretch who could not be trusted. As you know me…” The sound of humour he heard in his voice was bitter.

“I thought…” she stuttered, “I assumed… I mean I was a little jealous when I saw the house. I thought that you must have had a wonderful childhood in comparison to mine.”

“A house does not make a home, you should know that.”

“If I owned this house, I would be here always,” she mused. “Larchfield is the most beautiful place that I have ever seen.”

“Do you not like London?”

“No. It is too noisy for me.”

“I thought that you enjoyed the endless parties and routs now that you have partners to escort you. You take pleasure in setting everyone’s tongues wagging. You adore it when they stare. So do not try to tell me that you enjoy the peace of the country. You would miss the town,” He frowned a little as he spoke. It was probably the effect of the alcohol, but she was confusing him tonight.

She smiled in return. “You never really understood me, did you? You gave me something that I have never had. I admit I enjoyed the attention you brought me, I thought I liked it once, but in honesty the novelty has worn thin. Yet I am glad that I met you; that you spoke to me. That I had the experience of becoming popular.”

His finger curled beneath her chin and raised it. “If I had not found you then someone else would. I gave you nothing that would not have come to you one way or another.”

Elizabeth moved his hand away, but kept his fingers clutched in hers. “Notoriety. Did you not hear, Marcus? I am notorious, and it is with thanks to you.” The enthusiasm and humour in her voice told him she still thought it was a blessing and not a curse. She liked to rile those who judged her lacking. “I am surprised your brother’s friends will share a table with me at dinner.”

“Well there my hand beats yours. I believe that I have been notorious for years and my reputation spreads much wider, hence why my brother’s friends would no bat an eyelid at your fame.”

To be continued… 😀


If you cannot wait until next week for more of Jane Lark’s writing there’s plenty to read right now, and here’s the latest treat, ready to be devoured, The Dangerous Love of a Rogue


Dangerous Love of a rogue from Zoe

To read the Marlow Intrigues series, you can start anywhere, but the actual order is listed below ~ and click like to follow my Facebook Page not to miss anything…

 The Marlow Intrigues



The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all ~ The paperback would be a  lovely stocking filler 😉 

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2 

Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ A Free Novella #2.5 

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3 

The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella #3.5 

The Scandalous Love of a Lord #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback and, yes, there are more to come

Lady Caroline Lamb’s whole disgraceful truth… Part Twenty ~ The true story of what you should never do if you have a Regency intrigue

CarolinelambOn the 17th May 1809 the illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Devonshire, also called Caro, who had been brought up with Caro Lamb and her cousins, married George Lamb, Caro’s brother-in-law. The married couple moved into his parents’ household, joining Caro and William and put Caro and William’s fate wounded marriage to shame. But before I tell you what happened next, here is the history of this series of posts for anyone joining today, as always if you’ve read it before skip to the end of the italics where I have marked the text in bold font.

I was drawn to Lady Caroline Lamb, who lived in the Regency era, because Harriette Wilson the courtesan who wrote her memoirs in 1825, mentions the Ponsonby and the Lamb family frequently. Also the story of Caroline’s affair with Lord Byron captured my imagination. Caroline was also a writer, she wrote poems, and novels in her later life. I have read Glenarvon.

Her life story and her letters sucked me further into the reality of the Regency world which is rarely found in modern-day books. Jane Austen wrote fictional, ‘country’ life as she called it, and I want to write fictional ‘Regency’ life rather than simply romance. But what I love when I discover gems in my research like Caroline’s story is sharing the real story behind my fiction here too.

Lady Caroline Lamb was born Caroline Ponsonby, on the 13th November 1785. She was the daughter of Frederick Ponsonby, Viscount Duncannon, and Henrietta (known as Harriet), the sister of the infamous Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.

Caroline became an official lady when her grandfather died, and her father became Earl of Bessborough earning her the honorific title ‘Lady’ and she grew up in a world of luxury, even Marie Antoinette was a family friend. Caroline was always renowned as being lively, and now it is suspected she had a condition called bipolar. As a child she earned herself a title as a ‘brat’, by such things as telling her aunt Georgiana that Edward Gibbon’s (the author of The Decline and fall of the Roman Empire) face was ‘so ugly it had frightened her puppy’.

And when she grew up Byron once described Caroline as “the cleverest most agreeable, absurd, amiable, perplexing, dangerous fascinating little being that lives now or ought to have lived 2000 years ago.” 

As William had begun to work more and stay away from home often, Caro found herself left to watch the success of the now nicknamed Caro George, (Caro was known as Caro William). While Caro was needy, strong-willed and passionate in temperament, and hated by William’s family, Caro George was adored for her sweet, genteel nature. Plus while Caro and William struggled on very little income, the Duke of Devonshire had given his illegitimate daughter the same dowry he had given his daughter by Georgiana, £30,000 with £500 a year thereafter, so William’s brother who was not an heir was able to live far better than William who was.

Life threw another stone at Caro on the 19th October 1809 when a second marriage caused disagreement in the family. Bess, the Duke of Devonshire’s long standing mistress, and the mother of Caro George, married the Duke, “at last the name also,” she wrote into her journal. The marriage had been a private ceremony, which no one knew of. Even the vicar did not realise that was what he had been called to the estate to do until he was there. But Caro had hotly urged the Duke who was her uncle, and whom had been like a second father to her in her childhood, not to marry.  His former wife, her aunt, had been extremely close to Caro and so the marriage plans felt like betrayal to Caro. Harryo, the duke’s other illegitimate daughter described Caro as “Like a Volcano on the subject,” as she called Bess a witch and rallied the Duke’s legitimate son, Hart, to fight against the marriage. Of course there was nothing Hart or anyone could do.

But each of these steps in Caro’s life led her towards the person she began to become, and in 1809 while William frequently escaped from a life that had not turned out as he had probably planned and imagined, Caro sought her escape in the excitement of the elite set of people in Regency life. She filled her hours with entertainments and ensured she was everywhere she ought to be to enjoy the best events and meet the most fashionable people. She rode on rotten row, and attended soirees and at homes, but most importantly she went to balls and masquerades and danced until 6 or 8 am, and in these places, away from her in-laws, and the constrictions and altercations of her family, she felt free to be herself. Yet rumours stirred about her, and unlike the days when she had been courted by William and she had somehow remained sheltered by her family, now her eyes were wide open, and William had opened them. “What a world it is dear sweet boy,” she said in a letter to Hart, ” what a flimsey patched work face it has, all profession, little affection, no truth.”

She had become truly Jaded, “how then can any heart be callous to a diamond necklace...” But the desire she had for dramatics as a child, and the need to be center of attention, had not gone, she loved to play tricks and several of her letters record them. On one occasion, the hostess of a party she was attending was awaiting the arrival of Prince Blücher, when he did not arrive Caroline acted a charade to entertain the party, then slipped away, found a greatcoat and hat, and then left the house by another door to return and knock upon the front door, making everyone think the Prince had arrived, only to discover it was Caroline mocking them all.

For her foolish tricks and flirtatious behaviour Caro was earning herself a reputation and many of her letters became penned from a point of excusing her actions, and denying that any harm had been done. But everything about her life suggests she was desperately unhappy, and desperate for attention. I find it very difficult to hear Caro maligned, when we know that both her mother and her mother-in-law had had affairs and had given birth to illegitimate children. It was William’s illegitimacy which was the cause of their poverty. Then on Chritmas Eve 1809 Granville, the young man Caro’s mother had had an affair with for over ten years, and had born at least two illegitimate children with (whom Caro had walked in upon as a child) married the person Caro thought of as her last female cousin, another illegitimate child of the Duke of Devonshire. Harryo was not born of Bess but from a former relationship. Her dowry was £10,000, a third of her sisters, and Caro was deliberately excluded from the wedding invitations for fear she would disrupt proceedings, because she hated the idea of this wedding also.

All this ill-feeling and loneliness, and desire to escape, had Caro drinking to the extent that Hart wrote her a remedy for a hangover when they were both in town and behaving badly together. One of his names for himself at the end of his letters was “Devilshire”. But while she partied, William left her to it and ignored her, avoiding the fights their early marriage had been well known for. “I have a bad head ache and am just setting out for Brocket Hall where I left William…” Caro’s Jaded spirit then began to touch her heart, “Many a fair outside covers a blacker heart…” In another letter she wrote to Hart, after categorizing a weekend of entertainments she says, “& now mean to adjure the delights of the flesh & all the pomps and vanities of this Wicked World.”

At home it was not only Caroline who was under assault, though, but her son too, Augustus had continued to have fits, and it was said that he foamed at the mouth, so I would strongly believe it was epilepsy, but the doctors of the 1800s kindly prescribed it as fits of ill-temper and ordered Caro to employ a nurse to discipline him, which William’s mother strongly fought for. Caro had received the treatment of such a nurse as a child when she had been out of sorts as her mother spent more time with young men than her daughter. She would not  let her son be subjected to it. William turned his back still further, and where once he had practiced his political speeches with Caro and discussed his views with her he now turned to his mother (who of course would have loved another dagger to thrust in her daughter-in-laws back).

So Caro spent more and more time out of the house in the daytime too, and became closer to Lady Holland who socialised with the political set, so there would have been a drawing room full of gentlemen. It was here Caro met Lady Holland’s eldest son from her first marriage, Sir Godfrey Vassal Webster.

In romance we write about Regency “rakes” but we do not generally paint the picture of a real one, in fiction there is always good in them in real life it was not always true.

Godfrey was not allowed into any gentlemen’s clubs, he had such a bad reputation. He was a soldier, who had fought in the Peninsular War, (like one of Caro’s brothers) and even though he was twenty I should imagine he had a charming edge of experience and Caro, at the age of twenty-four, fell head over heels for the attention he bestowed on her. He bought her gifts, jewelry and even a puppy, and escorted her to events, all done openly – which of course broke the Regency rule.

Sir Godfrey gave me a bracelet at Argyle street with his hair (that means it would have had a lock of hair enclosed in the decoration. In the days before pictures it was what people used to remember each other by) & just before I went I desired him to put it on which he did behind one of the doors. The Next morning I made a jeweller come and rivet it so that it could not come off without breaking the chain…”

Regency intrigue rule one ~ Have as many affairs as you wish but no one must see it occurring…

Yr behaviour last night was so disgraceful in its appearance and so disgusting in its motives that it is quite impossible it should ever be effaced from my mind.” William’s mother wrote to Caro. She cut Caro entirely, seething over the fact Caro was damaging William’s political career, especially as her affair was being undertaken with the stepson of a strong political ally of William’s.

Caro began to realise her folly and wrote to William, then wrote to his mother, “I tore the bracelet off my arm & and put it up with my chains in a Box by itself I have written my desire some one will fetch the dog… On my knees I have written to William to tell him not any falsehoods not as you say any stories to conceal any guilt but the whole disgraceful truth. I have told him I have deceived him I have trusted only solely to his mercy & generosity…

Of course that was another broken rule,

Regency intrigue rule two ~ When you have an affair, never admit it to your husband or wife…

William did not reply to the letter, (but I would guess he could hardly truly complain because knowing his history I would strongly believe he had mistresses, whom he probably did not speak of, and was not seen with).

More of Caro’s affair with Godfrey  in my next post… follow my blog to make sure you don’t miss it and if you would like to read my historical romance story that’s inspired by Caroline’s life it’s available now The Dangerous Love of a Rogue.  

Dangerous Love of a rogue from Zoe

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  • the story of the real courtesan who inspired   The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.

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