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Chapter One
Elise
Elise leaned out the window, breathing in the crisp morning air. Birds sang. Beyond the gardens, she could see the wood, and the big oak that stood at the edge of it. She had spent many hours in its shade. There, she had staged doll tea parties and extravagant balls, pirate adventures, and even pretend wars using sticks and pebbles for fighting men since she didn’t own a set of tin soldiers.
She turned back into her room, enjoying the freedom of her light, simple country day dress, with only a single petticoat for modesty’s sake, as well as the comfort of stays that were snug, but not fashionably tight.
Perhaps she could run over to the Ackleys’ home and see if Gemma Ackley was receiving visitors. Or, failing a cosy visit with her dearest friend, she could go to the stables and borrow her favourite mare. The Ackleys owned a thriving horse breeding business. Since Elise rode well, she had a standing invitation to exercise the gentler mares or geldings.
Elise nearly skipped down the stairs into the main hall and around the corner into the small dining room.
The table was set for family breakfast. Both of her parents were already seated. Her father, John Camden, Earl of Coralwood, had a stack of papers to the right of his place setting. Her mother, Marielle Camden, Countess of Coralwood, sat with her forearms braced against the table, both hands wrapped around a steaming cup as if she were trying to warm them.
Their grave countenances boded ill for breakfast conversation. Elise decided to give lightening the mood her best try.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, taking her usual seat at the table and pouring herself a cup of tea. Her father abhorred servants at the breakfast table. He said they chattered and tended to spill things on his papers.
“Good morning,” her father answered politely, then came straight to the point. “So, daughter, did you enjoy your second Season?”
Elise sighed. There was no point lying about it. “Frankly, I found it deadly dull. Dance half the night, drink too much watered ratafia, sleep in and wake with a miserable headache. I would much rather rise early, go riding, then spend a pleasant afternoon with Gemma looking over embroidery patterns or new piano music.”
Her father snorted. “A pretty lifestyle if you can afford it. Pray, what will become of you when we are gone? You’ve had two Seasons to find a man to your liking. It is time your mother and I take matters in hand.”
Elise felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The country folk would say a goose walked over her grave. She split open a soft roll and buttered it, trying to keep her expression bland and nonchalant.
“Oh?” she said before biting into the bread.
“We have spoken with the Earl and Countess of Edgebury about a marriage with their son, Lord Haskett.”
“Oscar?” Elise burst out. “You cannot be serious. He’d be a member of the Hellfire club if he had enough imagination. Conversation with him is a theatrical monologue in which his every sentence begins with ‘I’”.
“Language!” her mother intoned. “Honourable young ladies do not use such words, and they listen to their fathers.”
“He will bring you a title and a good estate,” the Earl of Coralwood pontificated. “Wilder young men than Lord Haskett have been tamed by diligent, intelligent women.”
Elise took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Thank goodness she didn’t have on a tight corset! This news would certainly have her fainting away if such were the case. As it was, she needed all the air she could draw into her lungs.
Countess Coralwood commandeered the ensuing silence while Elise struggled to keep from screaming at her parents. “The Earl and Countess Edgebury are bringing their son to spend a fortnight here. If we are all satisfied with the arrangements, the banns will be read at the end of that time. I expect you to be on your best behaviour. No running about with your stays half undone and only one petticoat to keep you decent.”
Inwardly, Elise groaned. She had hoped the state of her undergarments would escape her mother’s notice.
“Nor shall you run off at all hours to ride horses or go fishing,” Countess Coralwood went on. “You will maintain decent visiting hours. Nor shall you bury yourself in the library with your grandfather’s old books.”
Elise felt tears prickling at the back of her eyelids. There went her plans for a lovely, lazy summer of freedom. In fact, from what she had seen of Lord Haskett, she could kiss freedom goodbye forever. Oscar Haskett, the eldest son of the Earl of Edgebury and Countess Edgebury, was only one year her senior. But he behaved as if he were scarcely out of leading strings.
Elise carefully set down her butter knife. “May I be excused? You have given me a great deal to think about. And while I still have a day or two for myself, I’d like to go visit with Gemma.”
“Of course,” her mother said. “No doubt you’ll want to tell your friend the good news. Just be sure that day after tomorrow, you are appropriately gowned to greet guests. You will want to make a good impression.”
It was all Elise could do not to bolt from the dinner table.
Chapter Two
Edward
The Westgrove townhouse was lively with the clatter of silverware on china. Benjamin, Edward’s older brother, sat at his father’s right while his mother sat at his left. Edward sat beside his mother, enjoying the relative peace farther away from the animated conversation at the head of the table.
“…and I told him if I had to keep coming down to the docks to act as steward, we might as well hire someone who could manage the flow of merchandise.”
“What did he do this time?” Edward’s father, the Marquess of Westgrove, asked, accepting a helping of sliced meat on his plate.
Benjamin Westwood held up his plate for an added helping before replying, “I arrived just in time to keep a crate of silks from falling off the loading plank. Brand new fabric, expensive as sin, what with the new tariffs. And this is on top of the box of tea he let fall in the sea last week.”
“It does seem that he is less than competent. Still, good help is hard to come by. Let’s hold off on replacing him and see if he will settle in.”
Edward gladly accepted a helping of meat and a spoonful of boiled turnips, swimming in butter. He smiled as his mother sneaked most of her serving of turnips over onto his plate. She hated turnips but would not slight the servants making the rounds. Turnips were not his favourite vegetable but, with enough butter laid on, they were tolerable.
“How are you doing, Edward?” she asked.
“Well enough. I’m glad to be done with school but am uncertain as to what I should do next.”
His mother nodded her understanding. “Such an ocean of possibility before you. I know that your father and brother have invited you to assist with the shipping business.”
“They have, indeed,” Edward affirmed. “But I am not certain if that is my best course of action. I would like to take up breeding and raising horses, but it is an expensive venture. Especially since I would need to find some land and purchase stock. I’ve also thought of taking the tour, or perhaps even travelling to the Colonies.”
“Oh, dear, one does hear such dreadful things about foreign places. And the seas are always uncertain. I’m sure my poor nerves would be frayed to a thread with worry if you were to do such a thing.”
“Perhaps I’ll take a walking tour or just go visit Uncle Louis and Aunt Rose. The Season is pretty much at an end, so…”
Edward did not get a chance to finish his sentence because a burly man came bursting into the dining hall, shouting, “I must see Edward Westwood at once!”
The marquess paused in cutting his meat and raised his eyebrows at the intruder. “Lord Cranfield! What brings you here? Why did the butler not announce you?”
“Begging your pardon, my lord. He dashed right past me,” the butler followed him in, wringing his hands together, looking worried.
“It’s all right, Jarvis,” the marquess said. “I can see that he is in a taking. Lord Cranfield, we are just sitting down to our midday meal. Could we offer you a place setting? I believe there is still enough to prepare a serving.”
“I’ve not come to break bread with you,” Cranfield said. “But rather to complain of your younger son.”
“That seems unusual,” Lord Westgrove said. “What has Edward done to merit your censure?”
Lord Cranfield looked around the room, as if checking to see who was present. “I beg the lady’s pardon for bringing up such a delicate subject in mixed company, but he has gotten my daughter with child.”
“Beg pardon?” Edward blurted out in astonishment.
“Oh, you may well beg pardon, Lord Westwood. But I am not inclined to give it. A girl’s maidenhood can only be given once, after all. Soon it will be obvious to all and sundry that she is no longer a virgin.”
“I understand your consternation, Lord Cranfield. But I can assure you that unless pregnancy can be caught by partnering a lady in a country dance that I am not the father of your daughter’s child.”
“Are you not? Let me tell you, sirrah, that you shall either own up to it, or I shall call you out upon the field of honour for my child’s sake,” Lord Cranfield blustered.
“Let me repeat in plain words: I am not the father of your daughter’s child. I have had no contact with the young lady beyond a dance or two at Almacks.”
“How can you be sure of that?” Lord Cranfield puffed up like a pouter pigeon, growing red in the face.
“I can be sure because I’ve not seen the lady in question in any situation that was not fully chaperoned. Generally speaking, if a child is begotten, one will at least have memory of the activity leading to such a condition.”
“What if I were to say that you were in your cups? And I do believe such was the case, for no gentleman would otherwise dishonour so tender a young lady.”
“I am not one to overindulge,” Edward protested. “Nor do I stay late at parties since I am charged with care of an office in my father’s business.”
“A pretty excuse,” Lord Cranfield sneered. “My seconds will call on you. You may be sure of that.”
The Marquess of Westgrove rose from his seat. “You have had your say, my lord. Now, I ask you to leave. You may send your seconds around if you wish, but might I remind you that duelling is not legal and that if you kill someone in so-called honourable combat, it is murder.”
“I count on you, Lord Westgrove, to make your son see reason. If he is willing to wed my daughter, then I will say no more. A hasty wedding might be the latest on-dit for the rest of the Season, but it will be no more than that.”
“I will speak with my son,” the marquess replied. “But I am inclined to believe his account. Edward has never been prone to profligate behaviour. Moreover, when he goes about in society, it is usually with a family party. Have you thought to question your child more closely about her behaviour? She would not be the first young lady to point a finger in the hope of securing a husband.”
“How dare you!” Lord Cranfield drew himself up in fresh fury. “I might almost think to call you out, as well.”
“I would not advise it,” the marquess replied. “But I will speak with my son and see if we can get to the bottom of the matter. Now, I believe you should go. Jarvis, will you see the gentleman out?”
The butler pointedly held the dining room door open, and two strong, young footmen stood to attention on either side of it.
When the outer door was closed, and Jarvis returned to say that Lord Cranfield was truly gone, the Marquess of Westgrove looked down the table at his second son. “Well? What say you?”
“Father, I swear to you, I have shared no more than a country dance with Alice. Indeed, I just met her this last week. I think I should remember if I had engaged in any activity that would get her with child.”
“I’m inclined to believe you,” his father said. “But this will do your reputation no good. Perhaps you should just marry the chit and be done with it.”
“If it is all the same to you, sir, I’d rather not,” Edward said. “The marrying might take only a moment, but the consequences would be many years playing out. The girl is whey-faced and has no conversation. I was heartily glad to return her to her chaperone.”
“Would it be so dreadful?” his mother asked. “I would not mind another grandchild.”
“And be a cuckold before I am even wed?” Edward shuddered delicately. “I might consider it if the girl had approached me, asking for help. But I wonder if she even knows that her father has come here.”
“A good point,” Benjamin spoke up. “I see the face-saving possible here, but I also understand Edward’s reluctance to be leg-shackled to someone he has scarcely met. To say nothing of having Cranfield as a father-in-law. He showed a great deal of indelicacy coming here as he did.”
That got a rise out of the marquess, and he chuckled. “Indeed. Very well, we will say no more of it for now, and see how it plays out in the long run.”
Edward tried to turn his attention to his dinner but found that the tasty meal before him might as well have turned to sawdust. He was glad of his family’s support but knew very well that most of his hopes and dreams depended upon maintaining a good reputation. Being accused of misusing a young woman of good standing would label him a rake and would cast aspersions upon his reliability.
“May I be excused?” he asked his father.
The marquess eyed his second son. Apparently, he found no fault with what he saw there because he said, “Go, go. Such an accusation would put a damper upon any honest man’s appetite. With that said, I’d recommend that you retire to your room. There, at least, we can vouch for your location and activities.”
Edward ground his teeth. This was going to be difficult, no matter what the outcome. He decided to be grateful for such favours as he could glean. “Thank you, Father,” he said. “I’d ask for a bottle of brandy to go with me, but I suspect I shall need a clear head.”
“A prudent decision,” the marquess commended him. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
“Captivated by the Earl’s Daughter” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!
Elise Camden, a spirited young woman drowning in societal expectations, escapes to her family’s estate’s stables, her only refuge since childhood. Nevertheless, with the prospect of an arranged marriage looming, Elise’s dreams are still threatened. In an unexpected encounter with a masked stranger one night though, she finds a fleeting yet profound connection, sparking a secret yearning for a life beyond societal confines.
Will this innocent feeling be her ticket to freedom, or will it only lead to disaster?
Edward Westwood, burdened by scandal and a cloud of doubt, seeks refuge in the quiet countryside, away from judgmental eyes. Fate leads him to the Ackley estate, where he hides behind a false identity while struggling with his tarnished reputation. Employed as a stable hand, he crosses paths with Elise, and an instant attraction blooms. As he assists Elise in her rebellious exploits against high society’s expectations, he battles his own growing emotions.
Can he really afford any distractions, or is he risking his whole mission for just the possibility of love?
Amidst heartfelt conversations and horseback rides, Elise and Edward’s connection deepens. Secrets and misunderstandings threaten to tear them apart though, as Elise’s impending arranged marriage casts a shadow over them and Edward’s hidden identity weighs on his heart. When the truth inevitably comes to light, they are faced with a choice – will they allow the prejudice around them dictate their paths or will they follow their hearts and fight for a love that defies conventions?
“Captivated by the Earl’s Daughter” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.
OFFER: A BRAND NEW SERIES AND 5 FREEBIES FOR YOU!
Grab my new series, "Love and Secrets of the Ton", and get 5 FREE novels as a gift! Have a look here!
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