A Bride for the Betrayed Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Book

“And I would follow you, Mama, and call out that dreadful Clara Lovett. What a devil she is, especially when she knew of our circumstances. I would hope that life brings her everything she deserves, and I cannot apologize for despising her,” Rose said in defence of her sister.

“Rose, you must not have your young soul twisted by all of this. Clara did do me a great wrong, and I shall never forgive her for it. But it is her betrayal of me and our friendship which hurts me the most. All these years I have confided in her, I had never once thought that she would hurt me as she has done. And I can hardly think how long this friendship between Clara and Christopher has gone on. It hurts me to think it, but I can only imagine that the two of them took advantage of my three-month period of mourning after father died. I expect that they saw a good deal of each other then.” Emmeline sighed. “But Rose, you must not turn yourself inside out with hatred because I would not wish it. I thank you for your loyalty, but I would much prefer it that you concentrate on having faith in your own future, my dear. You are too young to have to turn your thoughts to such dreadful things, and I would give anything for you to be able to live without the anxiety that my failed engagement has caused.”

Before any of them could say another word, there came a hurried knock on the drawing room door, and the housekeeper quickly entered.

“Begging your pardon, Miss Fitzgerald, but there is a gentleman to see you,” the housekeeper said to Emmeline and smiled, her doughy, pleasant face pink with excitement.

“Goodness me, it is Christopher,” Emmeline said and began to rise from her seat. Her heart was pounding, and she felt a little nauseous. “Well, I really do not know what to do.”

“But Miss Fitzgerald, it is not Mr Lennox who has called upon you,” the housekeeper interrupted her cautiously.

“Then who is it, Mrs Fairley?” Despite the news that it was not Christopher, Emmeline still felt out of sorts.

“It is the Earl of Addison, Miss.” Her cheeks grew yet pinker. “Should I show him in?”

“Oh yes, please do.” Emmeline smiled uncertainly and turned to her mother the moment the housekeeper had left the room.

“The Earl of Addison? Was it not he who supported you on that dreadful evening?” Constance said, and Emmeline could clearly see a flash of hope in her mother’s eyes.

“It was, Mama. Goodness me, I wonder what he wants.”

Mrs Fairley returned and opened the door before grandly announcing the Earl.

“Good afternoon, Lord Addison,” Emmeline said and hoped that she did not appear upended. “Please do come in, Sir, and take a seat.” She turned back towards the housekeeper. “Mrs Fairley, would you be so good as to ask Maisy to bring some tea?”

“Very good, Miss Fitzgerald,” the housekeeper said and quickly disappeared.

“You have met my mother before, Lord Addison, I think?” Emmeline said hurriedly.

“Indeed, I have, albeit briefly. I do hope you are well, Mrs Fitzgerald.” He smiled warmly at Constance.

“I am well; I thank you, Lord Addison.” She inclined her head graciously.

“And you are well, My Lord?” Emmeline said, wondering what on earth they were going to talk about.

“I am very well, Miss Fitzgerald.” He seemed suddenly a little awkward, and Emmeline sincerely hoped that he was not about to ask her if she were also well. It would simply be one too many inquiries after health and well-being, and she thought to do so would make him even more uncomfortable, as well as her.

“Please forgive me for calling upon you so unexpectedly. I had wondered these last two weeks how you were faring after the evening soirée at Ashton House. I realize it is none of my business, Miss Fitzgerald, but it has played on my mind a little and, in the end, I thought it would be quicker and quieter if I simply asked you.” He gave a brief and uncomfortable laugh.

Emmeline had to admit to herself that she had hardly thought of Lord Addison since the night of her great humiliation. In truth, to think of him would be to encourage herself to think of everything that had gone before his rescue of her and Rose.

She felt somewhat guilty, realizing that she should have done more to thank the man who had gone out of his way to help her maintain her dignity throughout the most trying time.

“I have very much kept to my home these last weeks, Lord Addison, and I think that has done me a great deal of good, especially after what happened.” Emmeline did not want to say anything aloud, but neither did she want to continue to ignore the obvious. After all, the Earl of Addison had visited her to see how she was faring after so public a humiliation, and there was no escaping it. “But I think I am starting to mend, little by little.”

“I am very pleased to hear that, Miss Fitzgerald. I was very much struck by your bravery on that evening and had wanted to tell you that you did it all very well indeed. You managed admirably, Miss Fitzgerald.” As he spoke, he looked directly at her, and he seemed a good deal more confident than he had done when he first entered the drawing room.

“It is very good of you to say so, Sir,” Emmeline said sincerely. “And it reminds me how remiss I have been in extending my thanks for all that you did. I truly had meant to write to you to tell you of my gratitude, and I am very sorry that I have not yet done so. And I know that my sister is as grateful as I am.”

“There really is no need to thank me, Miss Fitzgerald. Let me assure you that that is not what I came here for.” He smiled.

The Earl had a pleasant face, intense, but strangely handsome. It was true that he was not classically handsome in the way that Christopher Lennox was. Christopher Lennox, in appearances, if nothing else, was perfect.

But Hunter Bentley, with his black hair and close-cropped beard, was quite a striking figure. His eyes were not as dark as she had thought in the yellow light of the chandeliers at Ashton House. They were a hazel-brown, and the irises were flecked with gold. The colour was most unusual and very pleasing.

His appearance was pristine, and she wondered if he had made a particular effort or if he was always so well turned out. There was nothing overdone about his clothing, but it was clearly expensive and the tailoring very fine indeed.

He wore black breeches and knee boots with a well-cut tailcoat in olive green. His waistcoat matched the tailcoat, and his brilliant white shirt sported a necktie that was not too elaborate.

“Ah, here is tea,” Emmeline said, grateful for the distraction of something to do.

The small party remained in silence as she set about arranging the cups and saucers from the tray that the maid had brought into them. Emmeline wished that at least one of them could think of something to say, and yet the Earl’s appearance had been so sudden and unexpected, she could quite understand why her mother and sister were so quiet.

“I was very sorry to hear of the passing of Mr Fitzgerald,” the Earl said as if he, too, was fishing for something to say.

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