When a Marquess Finds Love (Preview)

Chapter One

‘Oh, Gwen,’ Pippa cried as Gwen walked into the parlour. ‘I can hardly believe you are finally here.’

Gwen smiled warmly towards her friend and when they met in the middle of the room, they embraced in an affectionate hug.

‘It is indeed lovely to see you again, Gwen,’ Cynthia added.

Lady Cynthia Oakley, Pippa’s mother, stood from her seat and moved across the room, embracing Gwen with the same tenderness her daughter had. Lady Pippa Oakley was Gwen’s closest companion, and though they had been friends for a very long time, neither had much chance to see each other with the large distance between them. Social gatherings throughout the year were the main occasions, and other than that, the written word kept their relationship alive.

That had changed of late, however, for Lady Gwendoline Barlow had recently arrived in London with her father, Edmund Barlow, the Earl of Bramington. They had travelled from their Hyland Estate near Chelmsford, a very large area of land owned by her father, and they were currently staying in Bramington Manor. It was far smaller than their family home, but more than sufficient for their needs. Since her father was to serve at the House of Lords, Gwen had accompanied him, for though she did have many lady friends and acquaintances back home, she thought London would be much more fun, and of course, she would get to see her closest friend, Pippa. So far, it had not been much fun, for her father was always out, either serving his duties or, in the evenings, attending business meetings and dinners to further his business acumen with those he knew in London. While Gwen knew her father was a busy man, she had thought their journey together might afford her more time with him.

‘How have you been? How was your journey down to London? Have you managed to attend any functions as of yet?’ Pippa asked excitedly.

‘If I am honest,’ Gwen sighed after she had settled on the sofa, ‘I have been rather bored. Father has been so very busy, and you know how protective he is. He will hardly allow me to attend such events without him accompanying me. I do not know why he is so overbearing.’

‘Yes,’ Pippa said with a sigh, ‘fathers can be like that.’

While Gwen had never met Pippa’s father, for he had passed away before they became acquainted, she had spoken about him on several occasions. He had tried to be a loving father, but his overbearing need to protect Pippa had translated to her being suffocated rather than safeguarded. In his judicious manner, Pippa had been granted access to only the most proper events, and the expectation had always been that she would marry well. Pippa was now a spinster and at three and thirty, having resigned herself to the fact that she would likely never marry. While Gwen had told her on many previous occasions that she might still have a chance at marriage, Pippa had always shaken her head determinedly.

‘Unlike you, my darling friend,’ she had said on one such occasion, ‘with your beautiful long tresses of strawberry blonde hair, your slender figure, and skin like porcelain, I have had my time. Men are looking to marry beautiful young ladies, and I am long used to being overlooked in social gatherings. Besides, I had my chance,’ she had ended sadly.

The chance she referred to had occurred many years ago. Jack Sands had come into her life after a chance meeting, and it had not taken the two very long before they had fallen madly in love. Pippa had described him as ‘beautiful in appearance and in heart.’ They would spend afternoons together, picnicking or on long carriage rides, and he would recite beautiful poetry or read to her from a book. When they were certain they wished to spend their life together, Jack had asked Pippa’s father for Pippa’s hand in marriage.

Her father had refused. Lord Oakley had stated that he desired far better for his daughter than the son of a merchant, and despite the heartfelt pleas from Pippa, Lord Oakley would not change his mind. Being utterly devastated that he could not have his darling Pippa, Jack had travelled to France to fight in the war for his country. Though Pippa had waited eagerly for some word, Jack did not once write any correspondence to her. Though she was greatly pained at the time, she had since told Gwen that it had likely been just too difficult for him. Evidently, he had severed all ties when he left for war, for losing Pippa had broken him.

Eight months later, a mutual acquaintance had informed Pippa that Jack had been killed. Known for his heroism and being the first to run into battle, he had died a noble champion, but that had not brought comfort to Pippa at the time. She had only imagined her one true love, dying alone on a cold and muddy battlefield as his life had poured from him where he lay. Completely distraught at her loss, Pippa’s broken heart had nearly crushed her, and after that, took no interest in any man. 

‘London is hardly a safe place, Gwen,’ Cynthia said with a slight inclination of her head. ‘Your father is only trying to protect you. That is his job. I am sure he would much prefer if your mother were still alive, but alas, he has the job of two parents.’

Gwen shrugged lightly and nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose.’

She had never known her mother. Bringing Gwen into the world had been the last thing her mother had ever been able to do, and several hours after Gwen’s arrival, her mother softly passed away. While her father sometimes showed signs of sadness if her name was mentioned, he had told Gwen little about her, apart from the fact that, like Gwen, she was a beautiful woman with a free spirit. 

Clearly, it hurt her father to talk of his wife, and while he had gained a child, he had lost the love of his life. According to others, he had never really been the same and had to cope with the loss. He’d thrown himself into work and garnering more wealth, as though such pursuits would make up for the gaping hole now left where his wife once was.

‘Never worry, Gwen, for now that you are here in London, we will accompany you to the places you desire to go. I know for certain that your father will be fine if you were in the company of myself and mother.’

Gwen suddenly smiled. ‘Of course, he will, and I cannot tell you how much I have been looking forward to this trip, for the thought of being able to see you, Pippa, has brought my heart such joy.’

‘I have felt the very same since you wrote to me and informed me you were coming,’ Pippa replied. ‘So, you must tell me all the news. What of your uncle? Did he marry that French lady he met abroad?’

The conversation ensued for the rest of the afternoon as the women gossiped about their interests, the local news and what upcoming events they planned to attend.

‘We must visit the opera again, Gwen. Do you remember the last time we went?’ Pippa suddenly giggled.

Gwen giggled along with her, for at her words, the vivid memory suddenly came to her mind. ‘Oh, yes. What a night.’

While they had expected an evening of delight, a rather hilarious disaster had occurred when one of the singers had tripped over another’s costume, falling into the backdrop, and causing the whole thing to come crashing down. The entire theatre went into hysterical laughter, for gladly, no one was hurt, and it had been highly entertaining. Not quite the entertainment they had expected but humorous all the same.

‘Well, let us hope this time, nothing drastic occurs, or I will begin thinking of myself as some sort of bad luck.’ Gwen grinned.

On the way back across London town to Bramington Manor sometime later, Gwen could only let out a sigh as they passed the many people in the streets. It was not her first visit to London, but it had been a year since she had been. She did love it for its liveliness, the excitement that ran through the very veins of the London streets, the variety of people and classes, and the fact that one never did know what might happen next. She could not experience such spontaneity in their country home, and yet, she did love it all the same.

‘Perhaps you might enjoy a relaxing bath when we return to the manor, my lady,’ Woodward said, sitting across from her in the carriage.

Julia Woodward had been Gwen’s lady’s maid since she was a young woman, and though seen as a servant by many, Gwen saw Woodward as a close companion as well as the woman who saw to all of her needs.

‘I do think that sounds quite delightful, Woodward. I will freshen up for dinner. Though I cannot know if Father will be joining us this evening for a change.’

Woodward only smiled but said nothing. As close as they were, Woodward listened to Gwen’s complaints but rarely gave her opinion on such. She would give advice, but that is where she drew the line. It was not her place, and she had stated so on many occasions when Gwen had tried to push her to give her views on such circumstances. 

***

The following morning, Gwen woke just before the dawn. Once more last night, she had dined alone and as she stretched herself awake, she felt a sense of frustration. She was tired of being cooped up in the manor. Apart from her visit to Pippa yesterday afternoon, they had hardly gone anywhere since they arrived. It was all well and good coming to London with her father, but this was not exactly how she thought it would be. 

‘Good morning, my lady,’ Woodward said after Gwen had rung for her. ‘You are up early.’

‘Yes, well. Perhaps if I were out attending functions and expending some energy, Woodward, I would still be sleeping,’ she replied grumpily. ‘I do love London, but I cannot tolerate this boredom. We have been here two weeks already, and apart from seeing Pippa, I have hardly left the manor.’

‘Perhaps we could organise something for the next day or two, my lady.’

‘No, Woodward. That is just not good enough. I cannot stay in this prison any longer,’ Gwen said dramatically. ‘I will get dressed, and then I am going for a walk. It is stifling, stuck within these four walls day in and day out.’

‘But, my lady,’ Woodward protested, her eyes wide. ‘It is hardly dawn. It is not suitable for you to be out and about at such hours of the morning.’

‘Truly, Woodward, I hardly care what is suitable. You ought to know by now that I cannot abide such stringent conventions. I need to feel fresh air. I desire the freedom I felt in Hyland.’

‘Yet, we are not in Hyland, my lady. One can do as they please in the privacy of their own estates. London is not so forgiving. You are putting your reputation at risk.’

Gwen shrugged abruptly. ‘Let them talk, Woodward. It will give them something to do. They can think what they like, for I do not care. I miss my early walks and horseback riding in the country. It lifts my spirits for the rest of the day. Besides, at this hour of the morning, the streets will likely be empty, and therefore, no one will see me out and about.’

‘But your father….’

‘Woodward, please. Do not protest anymore, for you are quite wasting your breath,’ Gwen sighed. Her reprimand was not harsh, but firm enough to silence her maid. ‘My father cares more for his business meetings than he does my activities. We have hardly eaten a meal together since we arrived. He will breakfast and leave for the House of Lords like he has every morning for the last two weeks. I doubt he has inquired about my whereabouts on any of those mornings, as will be the same today.’

Hyde Park, as Gwen had suspected, was quiet enough. There were people about, but not the usual throngs that might wander the large park later in the day. The dull morning light grew a little brighter even with the cloud-covered sky above, and though it was not a particularly fine morning, for unlike the clear skies of Hyland, London appeared a smoggy town, Gwen still appreciated the fresh air as the wind caused a soft rushing sound in the branches above and around about them.

‘Oh, look,’ Gwen suddenly whispered, pointing toward the ground near the base of a dense row of hedges.

Gwen and Woodward stopped in their tracks as they both watched the small rabbit freeze at their approach. 

‘The park is so quiet, my lady,’ Woodward whispered. ‘It is likely the only reason you are seeing him.’

‘I agree, Woodward. We must not frighten him away.’

Gwen was used to such wildlife in Hyland, but it had been a while since she had been so very close to one. Ordinarily, they could be spotted darting across a field or meadow. If she were on horseback, she rarely saw them.

The rabbit, having sniffed the air fervently, deemed it safe to continue and hopped a little way forward. Gwen had not noticed before, but the creature appeared to be injured, for she was certain it limped rather than hopped.

‘Oh, Woodward. We must help him.’

‘But how, my lady? We would be hard-pressed to catch him, but even if we could, I would not know the first thing about healing an injured rabbit.’

‘Surely it cannot be that difficult, Woodward. Perhaps he simply needs a warm bed and a safe place. We can place him in a cloth sack in the kitchen. I can only imagine the dangers for him out here in the wild if he cannot run to escape other predators.’ 

‘Well, perhaps…’ Woodward began but was suddenly interrupted by a loud barking noise quickly approaching them. Gwen spun around to see a Pug running swiftly in their direction, and yet, she instinctively knew the dog was not barking at Woodward and her. In another second, she looked back to where the rabbit had been and noticed it had gone.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ she huffed. ‘Do you see what you have done?’ she growled at the dog. ‘You have scared it away with your silly noise. You are a bad dog.’

The Pug ignored her and ran toward the spot the rabbit had occupied only a second before. Sniffing aggressively at the grass, clearly attempting to pick up a scent, the dog cared little for Gwen’s reprimand.

The sound of deep laughter made Gwen turn around once more, and standing just a few steps away, a rather well-dressed gentleman stood chuckling as he regarded her. The man was broad and clean-shaven with chestnut brown hair, but even though he was rather dashingly handsome, that did not curtail Gwen’s anger at the situation. To add insult to injury, it was evident this man was laughing at her specifically, which only infuriated her more.

‘Pray tell me, good sir,’ she snarled, “what is it that you find so amusing?’

Chapter Two

The noise grew louder and louder, drilling into his brain. The dream morphed from walking in an open meadow to some high-pitched sound from a distance away, until eventually, he was pulled from the dream entirely. Struggling to part his eyelids, Vincent Ashworth eventually became aware of his surroundings and rubbed his eyes vigorously, finally came to focus on the origin of the noise that had woken him.

‘Good morning, Lady,’ he rasped, looking down at his three-year-old pug as she stood there, panting excitedly at the side of his bed. On hearing the voice of her master, she jumped about excitedly, her nails scratching against the wooden boards beneath her. ‘I suppose you demand my attention, do you?’ He half smiled at her persistent yelps.

Swinging his legs from the bed and sitting up to stretch, he looked about the bedchamber he had slept in and had a fleeting sensation of disorientation, but only for a second. Very quickly, the realisation came to him that he was residing in his London residence rather than the family home in Bath but arriving only a week previous and only just now awake, it had taken a minute to acclimate to his surroundings. 

The large room was no less extravagant than his usual sleeping arrangements, for before his father had been bestowed with his new title of duke, and his mother and father still resided there. His mother had spared no expense in the décor of their home, ensuring Ellensdale Manor had been adorned with styles and materials of the highest standard. It proved useful to him in the fact that there was no necessity for him to embellish upon it, now it was his home. He had just yet to acclimatise himself to his new surroundings. Perhaps it was because he had spent so little time in them since his arrival. Even last night, the ball his mother and father had hosted had run late into the night, which was likely the reason he was now so tired.

In fact, his father’s recent acquisition of his title was the reason Vincent found himself in London. Several weeks ago, he had received a letter from his father informing him of his wishes, part of which had been the new title Vincent himself would receive as his only son.

…there is much to be done, and I must groom you in the duties of your new position as the Marquess of Ellensdale. It is with this in mind that I invite you to travel to London and stay at the residence you have inherited with such a title. I cannot return to Bath myself, for there is much to attend to here. If you travel, however, I can continue with the necessary business as well as mentor you on what will be expected of you….

It had not come as a surprise to Vincent. The whole family’s life had changed drastically with the passing of his grandfather just over a year ago. His death had also been expected, for he had weakened greatly in the six months leading up to the cold and bitter afternoon when he had drawn his last breath. After that, there had been much activity with barristers and solicitors and paperwork and readiness for the ceremony of his father taking on the title of the duke. Vincent had kept himself apart from it, but he could not separate himself entirely with the title he himself would receive.

Now, as he continued to stretch himself awake, Vincent looked down once more at Lady, who still bounced eagerly at his feet.

‘I suppose you would like to stretch your legs too, Lady,’ Vincent acknowledged. ‘All right. Let me dress, and we will go for a walk. I think I could do with some fresh air myself.’

***

With Lady on her leash, they meandered toward Hyde Park, and in the quiet of the morning, he thought back to just before his grandfather’s death. Vincent had not been close to his grandfather, and yet, the old man had sent for him, wanting to speak to him privately. On entering his grandfather’s bedchamber, the smell of death had been in the air as Vincent crossed the room as he looked at the shrivelled old man. The duke was a man who had once been strong and proud and rather overbearing.

‘Sit beside me, son,’ he croaked. ‘Come.’ The old man patted the bed with a weak and wrinkled hand.

Vincent had lowered himself beside him on the bed, a little bewildered after all these years, as to why his grandfather suddenly desired to speak to him now. His own father was not very different, for he, too, was emotionally detached. He was a man who spent more time pursuing power and making connections than caring much about Vincent. He had long been used to it and had accepted it as just the way his father was. Being around his grandfather, it had not taken any great stretch of the imagination to see where his father had learned his parenting skills.

His grandfather took a deep breath in, struggling as he had been in the last week to breathe. He looked at Vincent with a strange intensity, a depth Vincent could not imagine possible in his weak state, and yet, his eyes held a determination within them.

‘Life is too short for regrets, Vincent,’ he mumbled. ‘And yet, I have many. It is strange,’ he continued, ‘when a man stands at the gates of death, how many come back to haunt him. I cannot deny, Vincent,’ he took another deep breath, ‘that you are indeed, a severe regret of mine.’

Vincent frowned at his words, for they pained him. His grandfather had regretted Vincent’s existence?

‘No, not like that.’ He slowly shook his head as though reading Vincent’s mind. ‘My meaning is regret in the way I have treated you and the ways of your father in turn. He is not a bad man, Vincent, but I know he has followed in my footsteps. I was neither a great father to him as I have not been a great grandfather to you.’

‘Do not talk in such a way, Grandfather. There is no need for regrets.’

‘But there is, Vincent,’ the old man continued persistently. ‘I, like your father after me, have spent far too much of my time accumulating relationships with people I thought would better my circumstances. In part, it was the way I was expected to be as a duke. And yet….’ He took in another laborious breath. ‘In doing so, I have neglected those people that have been right under my nose the entire time. We are family, and yet, I have taken you and your father for granted.’

‘You had a duty to the king, Grandfather. I can only imagine how important your position was.’

His grandfather closed his eyes wearily and once more shook his head. ‘It does not matter. I failed your father, and I failed you. I can only impart the wisdom I ought to have told you so many years ago. Your father followed in my footsteps, but I am telling you not to do the same.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, cherish those closest to you. Try and regain some relationship with your father if he is willing. And though I know I will never see it, if you do become a father yourself, put your family first always.’

The small conversation had exhausted him, and while Vincent had sat there for a little longer, his grandfather fell into a peaceful slumber. Vincent had not left his bedside straight away, and instead, had sat there and spent a long time looking upon the man he had hardly known. It was the strangest sensation that their most intimate conversation had been under such circumstances. It was dreadfully sad, though, that it had taken such a situation for such a conversation to occur. It had been only a few days later that his grandfather had passed, and in a strange consideration, Vincent had wondered if the old man had somehow known that his time left had been so short.

***

Hyde Park was quiet, which came as no surprise. The dawn had only broken and even though he had socialised until the early hours, neither his body, well-used to a very early morning start, nor Lady, would allow him to sleep much longer. There were a few people wandering about, but by their appearance, Vincent deduced they were middle class or lower. There were even several servants walking their master’s or mistress’s dogs. 

Sniffing around her eagerly, Lady pulled at the leash with vigour as they walked down a riding path. A second later, and much to Vincent’s astonishment, Lady was suddenly free and sprinting on ahead. Looking at the leash with confusion, Vincent could hardly understand how she had managed it, but he supposed, with the tiredness still shrouding him, he had not ensured the leash was completely secure.

‘Lady,’ he called out. 

He might as well have spoken to the surrounding trees, for she paid him no heed and continued hurriedly away from him. ‘Blasted animal,’ he muttered under his breath as he quickened his pace to follow her.

It was not too far up the track that he suddenly heard her barking, and as he approached, frowning at the scene before him. A young woman was scolding Lady, yet he could not see her reason in doing so. Lady was rummaging under the nearby hedges and nowhere near the young woman, though he could not help but chuckle when he heard her call Lady a bad dog. Lady was, indeed, more than spoilt, and though he had tried with every effort to train her, she was far less willing to do his bidding than to enjoy digging up the flowerbeds before traipsing her muddy paws through the house. Watching now as someone else lost their temper with her was rather amusing, for he now knew what he must have looked like to his servants on all previous occasions. 

At the sound of his laughter, the young woman spun on her heel and turned toward him, clearly infuriated for whatever reason.

‘Pray tell me, good sir,’ she snarled, ‘what is it that you find so amusing?’

He was quite taken aback at her beauty, for her figure was slender and her skin was pure, with soft blonde curls dancing against her cheek in her agitation. 

‘Well,’ he shrugged with a smile, ‘besides the fact that you have managed to deduce the antics of my dog while only knowing her for a minute, your fervour in reprimanding her amuses me, for she barely listens to me, never mind any other.’

‘Is that right?’ the young woman growled. ‘Then I can only imagine that is the reason your animal runs wild and is clearly a danger to others.’

‘Has she harmed you?’ Vincent frowned.

‘No, but….’

‘Then I cannot understand your distress, madam.’

‘Do you simply let your dog run wild without a care, sir?’ she demanded.

In truth, the young woman could not know whether Vincent had done so or not, and by her tone, it was clear that she was trying to challenge him. While bantering with her might have been fun, Vincent decided he was far too tired to engage in such energetic debate at that hour of the morning. He decided not to give her the answer seeing as he was not obliged to do so. His silence, however, did not appear to deter her. 

Clearly wishing to get a rise from him, she continued, ‘Am I not correct, sir?’ she pressed. ‘Surely, it is the case that you let your dog run off without a thought that it may harm another.’

Vincent narrowed his eyes, for clearly, she was looking to argue with him no matter how he reacted. He still was not obligated to answer her inquiry. In fact, he had come to the park with Lady for fresh air, not confrontation. Perhaps a change of tack was necessary.

‘Forgive me, madam, for my forwardness,’ he began. ‘It is clear by your attire,’ he gestured toward her, ‘that you are a genteel woman. Yet I cannot for the life of me understand why a woman of your stature would be lurking around Hyde Park in the early of hours of the morning with only a maid for company.’

‘Well, sir. I hardly think that is any of your….’

Suddenly, the sound of pounding hooves cut her short and knowing that they were on a riding trail, Vincent could only expect that a rider may be upon them at any second. He watched as the young lady’s maid practically dragged the young woman into the hedge to avoid being trampled, while at the same time, Vincent swiftly bent and clipped Lady back onto her leash, ensuring it was secure this time.

It was the perfect opportunity to make himself scarce, and while the women still pressed themselves against the bushes to protect themselves from being trampled, Vincent swiftly moved himself over to the other side of the path and headed in the direction he had come. Even as he walked away, he could hardly help but smile to himself. He could not be certain the young woman was a lady, but if she was, there was certainly a fire in her belly. A demure and prim lady, those he was more used to conversing with at social events, she was not. 

On the one hand, she was, without a doubt, extremely beautiful, and if he were honest, he could not say that he could compare her with any other ladies he had encountered since he had arrived in London. On the other, such lack of manners and propriety had given him food for thought, for one truly could not judge a book by its cover. Her forwardness had quite taken him by surprise, and yet, he could not say he had not found it rather invigorating.

---

“When a Marquess Finds Love” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Marriage is the last thing on Lady Gwendoline Barlow’s mind. With her free spirit, she much prefers spending her time on wild horse rides around her family’s huge estate. While on a trip to London, Gwen assumes that this excursion is merely a visit to her best friend, Lady Pippa. Her life takes an unexpected turn though when her father forces her to marry the son of his business partner. A man with whom they are like fire and ice.

Love and hatred can sometimes be hard to tell apart though, can’t they?

The newly titled Marquess of Ellensdale, Vincent Ashworth, enjoys his country home in Bath, but at the behest of his father, he must travel to London to receive instruction in his new role. Far different from his parent’s power hungry ways, Vincent is a sensitive soul. Yet, his father has plans of his own for Vincent. Little did he know that not only a marriage would be arranged for him, but also with Lady Gwendoline, a woman he finds intolerable.

If only her eyes were not so mesmerising…

Gwendoline and Vincent could not be more different, but they now have to learn to live in harmony. Can they learn to simply be friends, or will their time together evoke much deeper feelings? Could such an undesired union blossom into something they both can cherish, or are they condemned to an obligatory existence of simply tolerating each other?

“When a Marquess Finds Love” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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