The Truth by Jane Lark ~ a free book exclusive to my blog ~ part thirty-two

The Truth

© Jane Lark Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark,

this 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

Emerald

As she slid between the sheets, Emerald’s heart thumped hard within her chest. ‘I love you. I have done so for weeks. I shall give you space and time. I will not speak yet. But I will do so when the time is right… Will you listen to me then?’

He’d said he loved her. He’d kissed her. Richard Farrow. Richard Farrow! Her friends in India would be suffering hysteria if they knew. No one succeeded in becoming close to him. No one really knew him. And he had declared his love for her .

A thousand butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she rolled over and turned her back on her mother’s empty bunk. He’d promised to speak! He was going to offer marriage! She could go home to Calcutta!

Her friends would be green with envy.

‘We can travel. I can show you places, give you the enlightenment and knowledge you long for.’

Her heart beat echoed in her ears. She could have everything she wished for. She need not marry her distant cousin, the stranger, in England. She would be married to a man who loved her. She would be envied in Calcutta. Richard had treated her with respect, and he admired her intellect. In her mind she imaged her marriage. She would learn his business and make herself his equal. She need not submit to him as she would have been forced to submit to her unknown cousin in her English marriage.

A smile parted her lips as sleep claimed her.

***

Once Emerald had dressed in the morning, Mr Bishop knocked on the cabin door and invited her to join the men to break her fast. “…The consensus of opinion, Miss, is that you should not be left alone.”

She accepted and wrapped one of her mother’s shawls about her shoulders. She’d found it out this morning, seeking the comfort of her mother’s smell.

Her hand lay on Mr Bishop’s arm to walk across the deck, while Rita walked behind them.

When Mr Bishop opened the door of the day cabin, she was greeted by the sight of Mr Swallow and Richard leaning over the charts that were spread out on the table.

She walked across the room, to look at the charts, as Richard straightened and turned. He smiled at her and the look in his eyes was endearing. I love you, he’d said last night.

She glanced at the door where they’d sat together. It was still unlocked, she had hidden the key again but left it open.

Her gaze turned back to him, and she smiled too, then looked at Mr Swallow who’d also straightened. She and Richard had a secret to hide from him – from everyone.

“Good morning, Mr Swallow,” she said as Richard came forward. Then she turned and offered her hand to Richard.

“Miss Martin.” He held her hand and bowed over it.

Tremors skimmed up her arm. Last night he had kissed her mouth and her tongue had danced with his.

When he let go of her hand, she could sense her blush. Her gaze focused on Mr Swallow. “Where are we currently?”

Mr Swallow pointed at their position on the map as Richard walked away. She was intensely aware of Richard, her body hummed in recognition of his proximity as the maps were rolled up and put aside. Then all through breakfast she kept glancing at him, but he showed not one single sign of any deeper attachment. She could have dreamt last night. But she had not.

The men rallied about her for the rest of the day, watching over her, speaking to her constantly, taking it in turns to entertain her on the deck, or in the day cabin, playing cards or chess, conversing or perambulating about the rails with her. Though, she refused to speak to Dr Steel, she had not forgiven him for his lies. But Richard, in everyone else’s presence, he kept his distance, showing no sign of attachment and treating her as the others did. She longed for the night to come. To discover what would happen next.

When she slipped through door into the day cabin after dark, Richard was there, looking at the charts, his evening coat and waistcoat removed, his hands leaning on the table as an oil lamp swung from a hook above him.

“You were waiting for me…”

“No. I am looking at the charts.” But despite his denial he opened his arms to receive her as she ran across the room to him.

He kissed her for a long time, and then his head bowed and his breath was hot and heavy against her neck as his hands gripped her waist with the strength of iron bars, holding her away.

When his head lifted, his eyes shone with a strange brightness. “You should go to bed, Emma. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

She went to him again the next night.

The following day after they’d eaten breakfast, Mr Swallow walked ahead of them with Rita, out on to the deck. Emerald stopped and grasped Richard’s coat sleeve, to stop him, then pulled him behind the door and rose on to her toes and pressed her lips against his. She was tired of his stone like denial in the daytime, it had become annoying. Insulting.

His fingers had clasped her nape and he kissed her hard for an instant, brushing his tongue into her mouth before pulling away with a smile. Then he straightened his coat and turned away holding out his hand, bidding her exit first.

Pride swelled in her chest, denying all her grief as she walked past him, letting her skirt brush his legs. But then she caught Rita’s gaze, there was judgement in Rita’s eyes. But Emerald need not explain herself to her maid.

She went Richard in the day cabin again that night, and during the next day he found two opportunities to pull her about corners out of sight and kiss her briefly.

But on the sixth day of their trysting, she admitted a truth to herself – she was in love. With Richard Farrow! The silent, dark, secretive man she’d often watched from a distance in Calcutta and called cold, and hated. He was not cold but kind, and caring. Respectful. Dependable. He was two men. The business man who walked among his crew in the day and the one who kissed her and whispered words of love to her.

But she was his secret now, and he was hers. She knew the second man, the fire and warmth within him that he never showed to others.

To be continued…

The Marlow Intrigues: Perfect for lovers of period drama, like Victoria and Poldark.

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

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 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 and, yes, there are more to come

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

A Lord’s Desperate Love Part Thirteen ~ A Historical Romance Story

A Lord’s Desperate Love

A Historical Romance Story

© Copyright Jane Lark

Part Thirteen

Geoff was sweaty and hot when she curled into him. She didn’t care. Janet might be back any moment. She didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but him.

Her palm rested on his pectoral muscle, over his heart.

He had such a perfectly defined body, cut with visible lean muscle and sinew.

She ran her fingers across his torso again.

His hand covered hers.

“I was sleeping, Vi.”

She laughed and propped herself up on one elbow, remembering doing the same the first night she had slept with him and even that night she had felt an axis shift beneath her. It had never only been sex with Geoff.

His fingers stroked over her hair, which was now unconfined and spilled on to his chest.

She could not believe the all-consuming love which brimmed in her body. Certain it shone through her eyes she said in a low voice. “I wish to stay here for a week. Would you send to London and make the arrangements for the wedding, while we get to know one another better?”

He gave her wicked rakish smile. “Get to know one another better? Do we not already know one another well enough?”

“Not as two people who are engaged. I wish to learn all there is to know about you, Lord Sparks. All your likes and dislikes, where you have been and where we are going. We shall have to make compromises.”

He laughed “You mean you wish me to compromise.”

She smiled, her fingers touching his cheek as she saw his eyes laugh too.

“Well first, I would like to keep my house. May we live there? I have always loved living there.”

His fingers stroked over her hair again, as he smiled up at her. “Yes, you may keep your house and we’ll make it our home.” He raised an eyebrow. “After all as I recall you do not like bachelor rooms.” She laughed. “But on the condition you let me at least have two rooms I might decorate with a more masculine style.”

“You may have three.”

He laughed.

“But, Violet, if you stay here, we shall whip up a scandal, this is a village not the capital, you’ll never hide our indiscretion here. Their sensibilities will be shocked to the core.”

“And am I known for caring what others think?”

He shook his head at her, smiling in an open way she had never seen before, as though it was reaching from his heart out of his chest and through his eyes. “I see the violet I knew in London has returned.”

Oh she loved him. “Why do you think I acquired the name the Merry Widow? Because I can smile regardless, Geoff.”

His fingers touched her cheek. “That is the woman I fell for, but you shall only be a merry widow for another week, Vi, after that you shall be my wife.”

“And then I shall be your very happy wife.”

Robert Marlow, the Earl of Barrington, probably Geoff’s closest friend, and the only one Geoff had considered for the role of groom’s man, stood at Geoff’s shoulder as they heard the sound rise like a wave through the church.

Violet was here.

Geoff’s heart thumped as he heard people turning behind him and making sounds implying she looked beautiful.

Robert touched Geoff’s arm, stirring him from the paralysis which had swept over him. He looked over his left shoulder.

Violet was walking up the aisle with Jane, Robert’s wife and Violet’s friend.

Violet wore a very pale blue. The dress was simpler than her usual style, but then she’d only had two days to find a dress once they’d returned to town, having left half of Lacock red-faced at the audacity of their reunion.

He smiled at the thought, and at her, as she came closer.

The curve of her stomach was clearly visible, and probably the real cause of the stir of sound which was following her along the aisle.

Nearly all their audience were only discovering their situation as she walked.

He saw her chin was high and a bright defiant smile shone in her eyes and touched her lips.

The simplicity of her dress only made her look more beautiful and the bonnet covering her hair was an intricate straw weave, with a shower of artificial cream flowers by her ear. That colour was mirrored in her gloves and in a shawl which draped over her arms. She looked perfect.

His heart seeped warmth as she came to stand beside him and Jane moved into a pew on the far side.

Before he turned back to the altar, in the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of his eldest sister crying. Their mother had died when they were young. His sister had played mother to him for the last of his school years.

He glanced at her and smiled, then nodded at his brothers, before he turned to face the altar.

Violet’s fingers settled over his.

She had feared his sister’s disapproval more than anything, yet Sophia had only been glad he was finally settling down. Even her husband the Marquess of Kent had cared nothing about the impending scandal Violet’s condition was going to arouse.

Geoff treasured the moment he put his ring on her finger.

Violet looked up.

There was a candle of affection burning in Geoff’s eyes and somehow she knew it would be an eternal flame. It flared in her too.

When she spoke her words, she said them to him, not the vicar, nor God, nor even the church full of people, but just to him, and his words were for her.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The vicar’s voice echoed about the stone church, and then there was applause, started by Lord Barrington who stood beyond Geoff.

Geoff looked back and smiled before facing her again. Then one hand lifted her chin before he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. “Lady Sparks,” he whispered as he pulled away.

“I like the sound of that.”

“So do I.”

They both smiled as his fingers gripped hers and the vicar asked them to sign the register.

The journey to his sister’s home gave them a few moments of solitude as they travelled in an enclosed carriage and kissed more thoroughly, thinking of their private celebration which would come much later.

They reached the house barely a minute or two before their guests, who passed them with glances at her stomach. Violet ignored them all.

Jane and Robert were the last to come in.

“The Earl and Countess of Barrington,” The Marquess of Kent’s starchy butler intoned, as if they needed an introduction. Neither Violet nor Jane made any move to pretend a formal greeting. They swept into each others arms.

Violet felt very different to the women she had been a month ago.

“I am happy for you,” Jane whispered against Violet’s ear, as Geoff shook Robert’s hand.

Then as the men walked towards the dining hall, Violet caught a hold of Jane’s arm. “And I for you, I cannot believe the change in Barrington.”

“He has not changed, Violet, he is just the man I have always known. But you though…”

Jane glanced down at Violet’s stomach and she coloured a little. “Why did you not say?”

“I did not admit it to myself. I could not believe I had been so foolish, and I was terrified of Geoff’s reaction. Still, anyway, he has been wonderful.”

Violet saw fluid glisten in Jane’s eyes and then Jane said quietly. “I am jealous. It is what I desperately want, and Robert too, to make up for the years we have missed. We want a child.”

Violet gripped Jane’s hand and patted it with her free one. “I am sure it will come.” She wished only happiness for her friend.

A Lord’s Desperate Love is the story of two of the secondary characters from the 2nd book in the Marlow Intrigues Series

‘The Passionate Love of a Rake’

There is just one more part to share in Geoff’s and Violet’s story, but Harper Impulse have now agreed to me sharing another story!

So they will continue

😀

Also for the story of the real courtesan who inspired The Illicit Love of a Courtesan, and for the prequel excerpts leading up to John’s story in the

The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Go to the index

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