The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part fifty-eight

The Truth

Posted as a gift of my time and thoughts to the readers of my books, thank you for the lovely messages of appreciation,

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this novel should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18 ,19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33,34,35,36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56

Emerald

Her fingers trembled as Emerald pressed a hand to her hair, gently checking no strands had fallen. The Duke was hosting a dinner in her honour, to celebrate the announcement of their engagement. There would be no escaping this now, the wedding date had been chosen, for only four weeks ahead. Everything had spiralled from the moment she had said yes and the pace of it was terrifying, the preparations progressing as she watched through the bars of the stupor that had come over her here. Each day she rose from her bed, ate, drank, smiled, breathed, and at night she returned to bed, as her mind tried to shut out the knowledge that she was going to marry a man she did not love and who did not love her.

It was not love he sought, he wanted a wife to be a mother to the children and hostess to the people he chose to impress.

Tonight was her first true test of her duties. She had to stand beside The Duke and welcome the people from his world, smiling and curtseying as though the sun still shone, but it did not, it was dark inside her and all about her.

She touched her hair, then stroked her hands over the skirt of her gown. She had to face this. There was no other choice. She left her room and walked downstairs alone.

“Ah, Emma, there you are, you look perfect.” The Duke looked up at as she walked down the stairs into the reception hall. He had been standing with the senior servants, perhaps discussing the final details. The servants moved away as he turned.

She closed the distance between them as his hands lifted to take hers. She lowered into a curtsey as he gently clasped both her hands, and then he kissed the knuckles of one hand then the other through her silk gloves.

“The first guest, Your Grace.”

He let one of her hands go. ‘We had best stand in our position, Emma.” He led her by the hand to the large formal drawing room that was decorated with painted scenes from a battle one of their relatives had fought in generations ago. He let her go as he turned to stand just inside the door.

Her hand lifted to touch her hair again.

His hand rose and grasped hers then lowered it to her side as she heard the front door open. “Do not fidget, Emma.”

Richard came into her mind as she awaited the appearance of their first guest. She saw his eyes as they looked at her. He had loved her.

She smiled as their first guest approached, and from then on the guests streamed past. She continued to smile, her cheeks aching with the effort. It was half an hour later that they joined their guests for wine before dinner and her heart thumped as she struggled to remember how to put words in the right order.

The Duke lifted his hand in a gesture that she had seen before, and then the butler shouted from the other side of the room that dinner was ready to be served as doors were opened that led into the dining room.

The Duke offered his arm, Emerald rested her hand on it. A memory of the day she had boarded Richard’s ship spun into her head, a memory of her mother, of saying goodbye to her father. Emerald felt a little faint as the Duke left her to take a seat at the table as he walked to the far end. She was not his wife yet, and in this company she was far below his rank.

Everyone seemed to watch her as she ate. Looking inquisitively or looking for faults.

Course after course was served as the meal progressed and she pushed portions about her plate as panic quietly breathed. By the time that the china on which dessert had been served was removed she was ready to run. She could not do this. No matter how personable The Duke was she did not want to be in a bed with him. She did not love him. She could not pretend to be content.

Yet what else could she do. She had no money and no one to help her.

The wife of one of the Duke’s friends stood, indicating that the women ought to leave the men alone. Emerald ought to have risen first. She stood in a daze and walked from the room with misery eating into her like a maggot working its way into an apple. Once the women had all past through the door into the drawing room, the doors were closed behind them. A sensation of being trapped caught at Emerald.

“Excuse me,” she said to the nearest woman as she turned towards the door that would take her out into the hall.

Her aunt appeared before her to stop her but Emerald brushed past her.”Forgive me.” Her aunt had been in the drawing room before dinner and sitting a distance away from Emerald during dinner.

“Pardon me,” she progressed past more of the women.

When she neared the door to the hall a footman opened it for her and her fingers gripped at the skirt of her dress as though on the far side she might be able to run away.

As she past into the hall the drawing room door closed behind her.

“I have told you who I am!” A masculine voice echoed back from the marble all about her. “I know I have no invitation!” A familiar deep accent of command. “His Grace will not turn me out! Find him if you must!”

Richard! He was standing before the open door with two footmen in front of him, blocking his way.

To be continued…

The Marlow Intrigues: Perfect for lovers of period drama

The Tainted Love of a Captain #8 – The last episode in the Marlow Intrigues series

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel #1 ~ A Christmas Elopement began it all

The Illicit Love of a Courtesan #2

The Passionate Love of a Rake #3

The Scandalous Love of a Duke #4

The Dangerous Love of a Rogue #5

The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel #5.5

The Persuasive Love of a Libertine #5.75 now included in Jealous Love, (or free if you can persuade Amazon to price match with Kobo ebooks)

The Secret Love of a Gentleman #6

The Reckless Love of an Heir #7

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback

Go to the index

For

the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
another free short story, about characters from book #2, A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
the prequel excerpts for book #3 The Scandalous Love of a Duke

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’.Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part fifty-seven

The Truth

Posted as a gift of my time and thoughts to the readers of my books, thank you for the lovely messages of appreciation,

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this novel should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Chapter Sixteen

Richard

Owning ships and offices across the world had always instilled pride in Richard, but since arriving in England he’d discovered that he liked owning land too. It touched something more fundamental within him, thundering across the fields that were his, astride a fast sleek hunter. All the acres he could see before him were his, wide open spaces in which he could give the horse it’s head. In India he’d been confined to dirt tracks, he had not ridden like this since his youth. It was a part of English life he’d discovered he’d missed, the cooler weather was another novelty and the beauty of a morning frost or a low mist lying across the ground. What did Emerald make of it?

When he returned to the house he strode across the hall, his riding whip tapping impatiently against his leg. As he neared the dining room door he cast the whip aside on a table, then took off his hat and stripped off his gloves as his butler appeared to take them.

“Thank you, Thompson,” he stated as the man helped Richard out of his riding coat. “Is breakfast set out?”

“It is, my lord.”

A cringing sensation clutched at Richard, he hated being my lorded, he had spent years achieving anonymity in his business dealings. Without responding he entered the dining room. The table was set for one.

The isolation here had suited him for the last months, while there had been nothing better to do. But he was returning to London the day-after-tomorrow and then he planned to spend his hours assaulting his fair maiden’s walls. He’d apply every element of charm he had in his arsenal to woo Emerald. He had to speak to Fred too. When Richard returned to India, he wanted Fred to take on the Earldom. Richard may like elements of England but he had a business and a life to return to in India and he knew Emerald would want to live there.

Emerald’s father would be here soon and when he came Richard planned to marry her here and then travel home with her.

A footman filled Richard’s plate as he leant back to enable it and another filled a cup with coffee. Once they’d finished they left the room, walking backward and bowing. The pomp which surrounded his title was intensely irritating but Richard did nothing to change it. It was the way of it. He could hide from it in India, but not here.

A paper lay on the table to the right of him. He picked it up and opened it. What news would there be of Emerald today? He folded the paper back, set it beside him and picked up the cutlery. He’d developed certain habits in his solitary life and reading while he ate his breakfast was one of them. He scanned the business and political articles, then turned to the announcements before picking up his cutlery again, only for it to then clatter back down onto his plate.

The Duke of Sunderland announces his engagement to Miss Emma Martin, the Daughter of the East India Company’s Governor of Calcutta.

Richard swallowed his heart down from the back of his throat and stood. He had not expected it to come so quickly after her full mourning. He had been sure he would have a chance to speak before this. He had asked her to wait.

He left the room.

Was she still so angry with him?

Or did she have feelings for Sunderland now?

Jealousy tore at him, with clawing scratches. His hand lifted and stroked through his hair as he walked out into the hall. “Thompson, I am going to London, have a coach readied and my things packed immediately. I will ride ahead of it. Have the stables saddle me a horse.”

He jogged upstairs, hurrying, his heart racing against the tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hall.

What the hell was she doing? Why had she not written to him before deciding this?