Capturing The Earl’s Love Part Ten ~ A Historical Romance Story

A #free short story… I’ll be telling it here, and it can also now be downloaded from Amazon.

@Copyright Jane Lark; Publishing rights owned by Harper Impulse; Harper Collins UK

Capturing the Earl’s Love

A Historical Romance story

Part Three

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

It was a small church, tucked away in the side streets.

Meredith knew it was normal for ton marriages to take place in St George’s in Hanover Square. So she now knew, too, that Lord Morton did not wish their marriage to be celebrated, or even noticed.

She felt like crying. She’d heard nothing from him since he’d left her at the summerhouse. She’d expected to be called to the drawing room yesterday, if only to be made to account for herself. But he had not asked for her. She’d expected him to ring a peal over her head for tricking him into this, not to be so silent. At least if he’d spoken to her, she would have had the chance to explain.

She looked up at her father as they entered the church. His anger had cooled once they’d reached home the other night. He’d realised then that his daughter would be a countess, and instead of being angry, his chest had puffed out with pride, and he’d forgotten he’d ever recommended Mr Perrigrew.

He’d spent the last four and twenty hours bragging about how his son-in-law would be an earl, and telling any of the servants who would listen that he would be rubbing shoulders with impressive company now. He had spoken about inviting Lord Morton into a business venture, and dining at his daughter’s new home.

She doubted Lord Morton would ever let her father through the door of his house. He’d always looked at her with disgust when she’d entered.

Oh, why had she forced this engagement? He did not like her. Yet she had just seen an opportunity and, terrified of the alternative, grasped it.

Her gaze scanned the quiet church as she absorbed the atmosphere of mistrust, anger and resentment.

Lord Morton stood before her. She’d expected him to be waiting at the altar, but instead he was by the door. Behind him stood Lord Edward and his wife. Rowena was with them.

Meredith smiled at Rowena. Rowena did not smile.

Tears rushed into Meredith’s eyes, but she blinked them away, she refused to cry. This life would be far better than the one her father had intended. Lord Morton would be her husband, Rowena would be her sister, and Meredith would make the best of this.

Yesterday, she’d heard Mr Perrigrew express his disgust when her father had broken their agreement. His angry shouts had rung through the house. Then Meredith had seen Lord Morton’s carriage arrive and heard his restrained knock on the front door.

His exit had been as quiet as his entrance. She had waited in her room for her father’s summons, then suddenly heard the door shut.

Of the two fates, she much preferred to face Lord Morton’s quiet fuming. He was a gentleman; he would never rage at her, or raise his hand against her. She was sure of that, if nothing else.

“Are you ready?” He spoke to her, his gaze searching her face, and then he looked down and his intense gaze equally skimmed across her body, as if judging what he was about to tie himself to in marriage.

She’d worn her prettiest dress. It was white, as all her dresses were, but it had exquisite lace decorating the skirt in rings.

She remembered the lace she’d pulled from her bodice the other night and the burn of a blush touched her cheeks, as his eyes came back to her face.

She nodded, then looked at her father, hiding behind the brim of her straw bonnet. She ought to have curtsied, she remembered, but it was too late to curtsy now.

She breathed out and gripped the chrysanthemums she’d put together as a bouquet more tightly.

Lord Morton hated her. He had good cause.

Her father gave her a stiff glance, as if encouraging her to simply grasp Lord Morton’s arm and claim her place. She could not be so bold. She wondered if her father realised how much Lord Morton disliked her. They had not discussed the incident the other night since, only the outcome.

She heard Lord Morton turn away and looked at him. He was already striding up the aisle. It was as if he just wished to get this over with. His cousin followed.

Meredith met Rowena’s gaze, but Rowena merely lifted her chin in a dismissive gesture, then turned away and followed her brother.

The only person who smiled at Meredith was Lady Eleanor, who gave Meredith what appeared an understanding and bolstering look. Meredith smiled back, only for an instant. Then Lady Eleanor turned away, too, and when she caught up with Rowena, she took Rowena’s arm.

Meredith longed to have someone who might hold and comfort her. Her mother had died when she was very young; she could not even remember what it was like to have compassionate, female comfort. Her father had never been loving, or even protective. He did not even offer his arm now. She grasped it anyway, needing something to cling to.

They followed Lord Morton’s family up the aisle, and Meredith was certain she clutched her father’s arm too tightly, but she could not let go. Desperation, fear and longing, spun in a whirlpool inside her.

Her heart hammered even harder when she had to let her father go as he left her at the altar. Lord Morton stood beside her, his posture stiff.

The service seemed to progress very quickly from that moment on as the vicar’s voice echoed about the small, nearly empty church, and she struggled to keep up with it.

Lord Morton never looked at her face, let alone into her eyes, when he said his vows – he spoke to the vicar, and when he slid the ring on to her finger, looked only at her hand.

She spoke her vows, loudly and clearly, wishing this was the wedding she had dreamed of as a child, looking at his profile and longing for him to look at her and see that she loved him. Surely he could see?

But he did not turn, and perhaps he did not even care.

Her hands were shaking when the vicar pronounced them man and wife, and the ribbon which tied the three chrysanthemums she clasped, and trailed in curling bands of green, trembled.

When the vicar asked them to sign a register, Lord Morton did not offer his arm, but once again walked ahead of her. He bent and signed it first, then stepped back so she could sit and sign it too. She was Meredith Stanforth now, Countess of Morton. She was Lord Morton’s wife.

The vicar shook Lord Morton’s hand.

He grunted acknowledgement, then turned to his cousin. “Home, I suppose, then.” He still did not look at Meredith. “You will come with us, Ed?”

Lord Edward’s eyebrows lifted.

“We shall. Of course, we shall,” Lady Eleanor interjected.

It was Meredith’s wedding, they ought to be celebrating, yet none of them showed any sign of joy. Joy swelled in Meredith’s heart.

Lord Morton was tall and handsome, and having seen him with Rowena, she knew he could be kind. His hazel eyes caught her gaze, only for a moment, and then they lifted to look at her father instead.

“Divine?” It sounded like a begrudging offer.

“I shall come.”

“Good; then you may take Meredith in your carriage.”

Lord Morton did not even want to accompany her. His dismissal cut like a knife into her breast. She was not at all welcome. Tears threatened once more. Yet she deserved his rejection; she had forced him into this situation after all. She turned towards her father, to hide her distress. But as she did so, she caught Lord Edward’s gaze, and he gave her a half a smile.

She did not know what to make of it. His expression implied he asked a silent question. She turned and walked out beside her father, leaving Lord Morton and his family to follow, feeling daggers thrust into her back.

The Lost Love of Soldier

The prequel to The Illicit Love of a Courtesan

Out 10th July

Cover Reveal 22nd June ~ Tomorrow! 😀

A Lord’s Desperate Love is the story of two of the secondary characters from the 1st book in

the Marlow Intrigues Series

‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’

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

Go to the index

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

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

Capturing The Earl’s Love Part Eight ~ A Historical Romance Story

A #free short story… I’ll be telling it here, and it can also now be downloaded from Amazon.

@Copyright Jane Lark; Publishing rights owned by Harper Impulse; Harper Collins UK

Capturing the Earl’s Love

A Historical Romance story

Part Three

Part Eight

Rupert met Miss Divine’s gaze. He stood at the door of the summerhouse, looking in at her. She sat alone.

The colour of her eyes was nondescript in the dark, though the moonlight reached into the summerhouse and turned her white dress grey.

She’d been crying when he approached.

Rupert had seen her turn and run from her father, and although her flight had occurred in full view of the room, with no attempt to mask her haste, he doubted many people had noted her departure. She was of little interest to people here.

Yet he’d sensed something odd in her sudden bolt, so he’d followed, with Edward’s words of earlier ringing in his head.

He was looking for the greys in between the black and white. Her distress had appeared genuine when she’d fled, and, now, well… Her eyes glistened with tears, making them shine like dark sapphires as the moonlight caught her face when she stood.

An hour ago he’d have thought this some ploy, but the girl genuinely looked upset.

He had misjudged Ellen. What if Edward was right and Rupert had misjudged Miss Divine, too? He’d been treating her pretty poorly if that was true. He’d made no secret of his ill opinion. But then he remembered all the weeks she had pressed close to Rowena, crowding his sister, and trying to outshine her by speaking louder, and smiling more brightly. Yet he should at least ask… It was only gentlemanly… “Is something wrong?”

She sniffed and then withdrew a handkerchief from the reticule which hung from her wrist. He supposed he could have offered his handkerchief, but his mind was caught up in trying to see any grey in the black and white he had been viewing for weeks. He was still uncertain what this was about. But whatever it was, she was plainly upset.

She blew her nose then stuffed the handkerchief back into her reticule, before looking up again.

He was used to her smiling at him when she looked at him. She always smiled. It was a broad, open expression she seemed to have perfected just for him. He received it every time he looked at her. She did not smile now, merely looked at him with eyes full of pain, and something else… Anger?

Damn, was this some ruse?

His gaze fell away from hers. Her white gown glowed in the darkness, the inky color of night staining it light blue more than grey. It was like her eyes, hard to decide exactly which. Yet there was still a contrast between skin, and hair, and gown. The opening cleft of her cleavage drew his eyes as it ran into the bodice of her dress, like an arrow drawing his attention to where it should not be. He’d noticed that the girl had curves long ago, but until last night he had not looked at her closely. And now?

His gaze lifted back up to her face. If he could see the colour of her skin, he would lay odds on the fact she was blushing, but the fire of anger had gone from her eyes; there seemed only sorrow in them now.

“My father has accepted a marriage offer, on my behalf. I was unaware of it…” After she spoke, her gaze dropped to the level of Rupert’s cravat and she sniffed again. “With his business partner, Mr Perrigrew.”

Rupert frowned. He knew Mr Perrigrew. He was older than Kendrick, and cantankerous too. Rupert would not wish such a match on her, no matter that he did not like her.

“What will you do?”

Instinctively, when she lifted her gaze and tears sparkled in her eyes once more, he lifted his hand and touched her arm to comfort her.

As soon as he did, her head lowered and her forehead fell to rest against his shoulder. His hand shifted to her back, and he could feel her sobs as they jolted her body.

“Miss Divine,” he whispered, offering verbal concern, as well as physical comfort, as behind him he heard her father call.

“Meredith! Meredith! Where are you, girl?”

There were other voices too, several.

Rupert instantly recognized the danger. He was alone with her here.

“Meredith!”

Lord Morton drew away from her, his hand slipping down her back and falling away.

Her anger had burned out within minutes of him speaking to her. For the second night, he had noticed her, and touched her. Hope and longing suddenly poured into her heart, as a flash of inspiration flared like a flame in her mind. She would… She could… Oh.

She did something she knew she should not.

There was a band of lace tucked into the neckline of her gown. It was designed to hide her cleavage, though she had always repositioned it to show her bosom off as soon as she arrived at a ball. But now… Her hand lifted, and she pulled it loose, freeing it a little on one side, so it hung from her gown, as though something, or someone, had disturbed it, and as she did so, her other hand clasped Lord Morton’s nape, and then pulled his head down. I am not letting him go. I am not.

He was obviously too surprised to react and pull away, and as his head lowered, she lifted on to her toes, and pressed her lips to his.

“Meredith Divine! What the hell is going on here?” Her father’s voice boomed into the night air, echoing across the whole garden. “Morton! Let go of my daughter! I will not have this! You are dallying with her!”

There seemed to be an outcry as Lord Morton pulled away, and she let him go.

“You are going to marry her, Morton! No other man will have her now!”

Lord Morton stood before her, looking down at her, appearing shocked and bemused and pale, but then, all of sudden, his stupor dissolved, and there was a wildfire of anger in his gaze. She thought he might strangle her when his hand lifted – his eyes were so hard and cold – but it merely curled in a fist. Then he turned away and she saw the people who had followed her father staring at her.

“I will wed her,” he growled.

She had given him no choice. He either shamed her entirely or took her.

She knew he was a gentleman; he would not shame her.

“But for now, I suggest you take her home.” Before I kill her, she heard his unspoken words.

She had done a dreadful thing. She knew she had. It had been cruel and manipulative. But guilt refused to stir inside her. If it was so dreadful, why was her heart bursting with joy? He was going to marry her! He was!

“I shall call upon you in the morning,” Lord Morton said to her father in a bitter voice, before walking away. People parted to let him go.

Her father caught a hold of her arm and growled through the side of his mouth. “I told you I had signed the contract with Perrigrew, girl, and now you must manoeuvre this. You have made me a laughing stock!” He knew she’d forced Lord Morton, then. Her gaze spun to their audience. They knew too; she could see it in their faces. She supposed Lord Morton’s anger must have made the situation obvious.

The heat of a blush flared in Meredith’s cheeks as her father’s fingers gripped harder about her arm, then she was half dragged away.

The crowd left behind them, laughed and chattered.

Meredith had not seen Rowena, but Rowena would learn about what had happened; someone would tell her.

A Lord’s Desperate Love is the story of two of the secondary characters from the 1st book in

the Marlow Intrigues Series

‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’

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

Go to the index

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