The Earl’s Reluctant Bride (Preview)

Chapter One

William Montague, the Earl of Bannon, stood at the edge of the field, his eyes narrowed against the midday sun as he watched the workers struggle with the plow that had gotten stuck in the thick, clinging mud. He felt a familiar sense of determination settle over him. Despite being the master of the estate, he had never been one to stand idly by while others toiled, but not many understood that about him. Still, he was unwilling to change. 

“Hold on, lads,” he called out, striding toward them. “Let me take a look.” 

The workers paused, wiping sweat from their brows as they stepped aside to make room for William. They respected him not only for his fair and just management of the estate, but also because he never hesitated to join them in the hard labor. His willingness to get his hands dirty set him apart from many other landowners, and it fostered a deep sense of loyalty among those who worked for him.

Kneeling beside the plow, William assessed the situation. The blade was deeply embedded in the mud, and the more they had tried to pull it free, the more entrenched it had become. He grunted, rolling up his sleeves. “All right, we’ll need to lift it together on my count. Ready?”

The men nodded, their faces set with determination. It would not be the first time that together, they would solve a troubling issue. 

“One, two, three, heave!” William shouted, and they all heaved with all their might. The plow shifted slightly but remained stuck.

“Again,” William urged, his voice calm but firm. He knew how to give orders without them sounding like orders, but rather like advice. “One, two, three, heave!”

This time, the plow broke free with a sucking sound, and they stumbled back, laughing and clapping each other on the shoulders, happy that the issue was sorted out. 

“Well done,” William said, a rare smile lighting up his face as he patted one of the younger workers on the back. These were those rare occasions that reminded him he was still able to smile. “Let’s get it cleaned up and back in action.”

As the workers moved to clean the mud from the plow, William took a moment to catch his breath. He enjoyed the physical labor—it was a way to escape from the grief that lingered in his heart. The rhythm of the work, the strain of his muscles, and the camaraderie of the men provided a temporary reprieve from the memories that haunted him.

“My Lord,” one of the older workers, a loyal man by the name of Thomas McKenzie, approached him with a look of worry on his weathered face. “You don’t have to do this. We of course, appreciate all the help, but an earl should be in the house, not get dirty in the field with us workers.” 

William nodded with a smile, appreciating the concern in the man’s voice. After all, he knew his brother and his son. They all worked in his fields, side by side. “I know, Thomas. But it is good to work alongside you all. It keeps my mind clear.” 

Thomas nodded, understanding more than words could convey. “Aye, it does that. But don’t push yourself too hard, sir. We need you in good health for many years to come.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” William said, patting Thomas on the shoulder. 

As the day wore on, William continued to work with the men, feeling the familiar ache of tired muscles and the sweat running down his back. It was exhausting but also oddly comforting. Here, in the fields, he could lose himself in the simplicity of the tasks at hand, each one a small victory against the relentless weight of his sorrow.

They kept working for a few hours longer, when they all headed back to the manor house. As they all walked back, the chatter of the workers drifted off into the distance, and he could barely hear it any longer, as his eyes beheld the familiar outlines of Bannon Hall. It was his ancestral home, a place filled with memories of his childhood and the generations before him. The grand manor stood proudly at the heart of the estate, its stone walls a testament to the enduring strength of his family. But now, as he walked back from the fields, his body aching from the day’s labor, the sight of Bannon Hall brought a pang of sorrow.

Two years had passed since his wife’s death, yet the grief still clung to him like a heavy shadow. She had succumbed to a relentless illness in one of the very rooms he now dreaded to enter. He had closed it for everyone, locking it forever as it was, just like he himself was. The house, once filled with her laughter and warmth, now seemed cold and empty, devoid of that light she exuded wherever she went. 

He paused for a moment at the edge of the lawn, staring up at the grand facade. The evening light cast long shadows, and he could almost imagine her standing at one of the windows, watching him with a smile. Shaking off the memory, he forced himself to move forward, his boots leaving a trail of mud on the manicured grass.

When he finally entered the house, he was a sight to behold: muddied, disheveled, and utterly exhausted. But that exhaustion provided him with what nothing else could, a momentary peace of mind. Although that peace lasted for a very short time, he was still grateful for it. 

As William reached the top of the staircase, he nearly collided with his aunt, Theresa Dalloway, who was hurrying down the hallway toward him. She was a woman in her early fifties, with a kind, lined face that bore the marks of both joy and sorrow. Her dark hair, streaked with silver, was pulled back in a neat bun, and she wore a simple yet elegant dress that spoke of quiet dignity. Her eyes, a deep, understanding blue, reflected her concern as she took in his appearance.

“William, my dear,” she exclaimed softly upon seeing him. “What on earth have you done to yourself?” 

He forced a tired smile. “Just a bit of work in the fields, Aunt Theresa. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

She reached out and gently brushed some mud from his sleeve. “You are covered in dirt, and you look utterly exhausted. You cannot keep doing this to yourself. Besides, an earl is not supposed to be in field with his workers, you know that.” 

“I’m fine, Aunt Theresa,” he insisted, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed him. It was indeed a long day. “The work helps.” 

His aunt sighed, her expression softening. “I know it does, my dear, but you must take care of yourself. Grief is a heavy burden to carry alone.” 

William looked away, the familiar ache in his chest tightening. “I just… I need to keep busy.”

His aunt nodded, understanding exactly what he was referring to. It was hard on all of them. “I know. But you also need to rest, to heal. She wouldn’t want you to drive yourself into the ground.”

He swallowed hard, her words hitting that place inside of him he had been trying to keep hidden away from the rest of the world. “I know. It’s just… hard.”

“Yes, but remember that it is not only about you,” she reminded him of the most painful thing of all. “Georgiana has refused to have dinner again. That child needs you.” 

“I know,” he said, feeling defeated. 

His daughter Georgiana was only ten years old, yet she had already suffered one of the hardest blows life could deal to a child, and that was the loss of a parent. A mother, nonetheless. Sometimes, William wished it could have been he who left them. He felt that Rebecca, his late wife, would have known how to comfort Georgiana. She would have known how to keep Bannon Hall in the thriving state it always was. Unlike him, who allowed it to slowly start to decay. He knew it all, and yet, he was powerless to change anything. 

“I’m worried, Will,” his aunt said, softly touching his elbow. “Your life is in utter disarray. You need to bring some order to it. That will help Georgiana as well. She needs someone, Will. A mother.” 

William sighed, acknowledging her words. “I know, Aunt. I know everything. But I haven’t met anyone suitable for the role.” 

“You mean, you haven’t even tried,” she said, touching a sore spot. “You have been locked up here for the past two years, and Georgiana has been locked up with you, not of her own will. She is a child, William. She needs the company of other children as well. This isolation is not healthy for her, I far.” 

“What would you have me do? Marry just anyone?” he asked, his voice growing tense. 

His aunt shook her head. “No, of course not. I am not saying you should marry just anyone. You need a partner, someone who knows you, someone who can help you manage the estate and most importantly, someone who can take care of Georgiana. You know that Victoria has offered many times to come and help.” 

William’s expression darkened. Victoria Livingston was his cousin on his late wife’s side of the family, whom he had not seen much of during the time his wife was alive, but who appeared very eager to come for longer visits. He knew exactly what she wanted, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

“Victoria is only after my money,” he said gravely. “She doesn’t care about me or Georgiana. I don’t want such people in my home.” 

His aunt looked at him with weary eyes, her age and exhaustion evident. “I am not saying you should marry her, but you need to consider your options, William. You know that I am seven and fifty years of age. I am not getting any younger. I won’t be always around, and it would make me relieved to know that you have someone by your side when my time comes.” 

William frowned. “I don’t want to talk about that, Aunt Theresa.” 

He had enough death talk. He didn’t need any more of it. 

“I know, but that is your problem, Will. You don’t want to have the important conversations. You prefer running away from what will inevitably happen. Is that how you want to live your life? And most importantly, is that how you want Georgiana to live?” 

William’s heart softened as he looked at his aunt. As always, she was right. She had been a pillar of support for him throughout those two years. Now, it was time to share the burden with someone else. Georgiana deserved a mother. 

“All right, Aunt Theresa,” he finally acquiesced. “I shall think about it.” 

“Please do,” she urged him. “For all our sakes.” 

As she turned to leave, William felt a heavy weight settle on his shoulders. He knew she was right, but the thought of marrying again, of opening his heart to another woman, felt impossible. His love for his deceased wife was still too strong, his grief too raw.

His aunt paused turning in the direction of the corridor, looking back at him with a soft, pleading expression. “William, I just want you to be happy. We all do.”

He nodded, forcing a small smile. “I know, Aunt Theresa. And I appreciate it.”

When she left, the silence of the hallway enveloped him. He felt torn between duty and his own aching heart. The estate needed a lady’s touch, and Georgiana needed a mother figure, but the idea of replacing his wife felt like a betrayal.

He made his way to his room, the conversation replaying in his mind. He knew he couldn’t ignore the issue forever. His aunt’s exhaustion and Georgiana’s neglect were clear signs that something had to change. But the path forward seemed murky, filled with uncertainties and fears.

Chapter Two

Giles DeVere paced furiously through the dimly lit halls of his London home, his footsteps echoing off the dark wood floors. The house, with its closed curtains and dark wallpapers, felt stifling, almost suffocating to Nora, who stood silently in a corner, watching her uncle’s rampage. The air was thick with tension as Giles muttered angrily to himself, almost oblivious to her presence.

“Damn it all!” Giles shouted, slamming his fist onto a table, causing a delicate porcelain vase to teeter precariously. “That blasted shipment of spices was supposed to be our saving grace! Now, it’s all gone to ruin.”

Nora bit her lip, her heart pounding in her chest. She had seen her uncle in that state many a time before, so utterly consumed by rage and frustration. He owed several debts, she knew—social debts from light gambling, patronage, and his membership at the gentlemen’s club. But the loss of the spice caravan had pushed him to the brink of panic.

“What am I to do now?” Giles continued, his voice rising with each word. “The creditors will come knocking soon enough. And what of my reputation? To be known as a man who cannot pay his dues—it’s unthinkable.”

He moved to the window, yanking the curtains open with a violent tug, letting in a sliver of the gray London light. The room, still mostly in shadow, seemed to reflect his inner turmoil. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his face a mask of worry and anger.

Nora took a tentative step forward, her voice trembling. “Uncle, surely there’s something we can do. Perhaps we can speak to your creditors, arrange some sort of—”

“Speak to them?” Giles interrupted, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “They are sharks, Nora. They smell blood and they will not be appeased by mere words.”

He turned away from her, staring out the window with a clenched jaw. Nora felt a pang of helplessness, her own fears mingling with her uncle’s. The oppressive atmosphere of the house seemed to close in around her, the darkness pressing down on her chest. Nora had been trying to come up with a way of leaving Uncle Giles and his oppressive home, but she knew that as a young woman she had very few chances of doing so. 

After the tragic death of her parents in a fire at a very young age, Uncle Giles had taken her in. His own daughter Melody had immediately become a sister to Nora, in every sense of the word, where even Uncle Giles did not make any difference in his treatment of the two girls. He had always been a controlling man, concerned only with money and status, which often came at the expense of his family members. 

It was then that Uncle Giles turned to Nora again, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. “Leave me. I cannot think when you’re lingering there, watching me.” 

“Yes, Uncle,” Nora nodded, shuffling out of the room and heading toward a small library at the end of the corridor. 

Her uncle had never been keen on reading, but his late wife was. From the little that Nora could remember of the woman, she was kind and soft-spoken, preferring the company of books and her children, Melody, and Nora—whom she had taken on as her own—to the company of the ton, which her husband revered so much. Sadly, the woman had passed away young, having succumbed to an illness that took her away… fortunately in haste and without much pain. 

Nora hid herself in the library, as she always did when her uncle was in one of his moods. It was a place he rarely visited, so she had no fear of being interrupted or sought after. She could satiate her curiosity, grateful for her aunt’s wide array of interests during her lifetime. This was where she could hide herself away from the rest of the world and lose herself in a book, in a reality that wasn’t her own, but rather a better one, a more beautiful one, one where she was allowed to be herself. 

As the morning light streamed through the small, high windows of the library, casting a soft flow over the endless rows of books, Nora suddenly heard the door open. Her eyes darted in the direction of the sound, only to be relieved upon seeing the face of her cousin. 

“Melody!” she exclaimed, placing the book she was holding on a nearby table, then rushing to embrace her cousin. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to see you, of course,” Melody revealed, her blue eyes wide and joyful. In fact, ever since she had left that house, she was glowing. It was impossible not to notice. 

“Have you spoken to Uncle since your arrival?” Nora hesitated to ask. 

Melody shook her head. “I heard him talk to himself from the main hallway. I asked Thornton about his mood, and he assured me that he did not want any visitors, which suits me just fine, as I came to see you and not him.” 

Thornton had been Uncle Giles’ butler for the past twenty years, and he had more of a fatherly influence on the two girls than Uncle Giles had himself. Thornton would tell them when to avoid the man, especially when he was in a particularly bad mood, and that morning was obviously no exception. 

“We could go out into the garden,” Nora suggested, not wanting to stay inside the house and stumble onto her uncle, “and sit on the bench.” 

Melody beamed at the idea. “I would like that very much. We could have some tea and scones?” 

“Just like old times,” Nora said with a sigh. 

While she was overjoyed to see her cousin so happily married to a man who not only loved and cherished her, but nurtured her soul, Nora had to admit that the oppressiveness of her uncle’s house became even harder to bear with her cousin gone. She knew that she herself needed to leave as well, that she wouldn’t be able to endure it much longer. 

Fifteen minutes later, the two ladies were seated in the garden, with cups of tea in their hands, relishing the aroma. 

“Is this new tea?” Melody wondered. “I don’t remember Father having it before.” 

“Yes,” Nora confirmed. “Lady Cunningham has announced that all households ought to have this tea. If I remember correctly, as Uncle has corrected my pronunciation so many times, it is Pu-erh tea.” 

“Purr tea?” Melody repeated, sounding like a cat purring. 

“No,” Nora chuckled. “Pu-erh,” she explained, offering the correct pronunciation once again. “Apparently, it undergoes a unique fermentation and aging process that can take years, even decades. And it is this aging process that enhances its flavor and value, making it a highly sought after commodity.”

“So, yet another symbol of status that Father simply had to obtain?” Melody frowned. 

“You know that as well as I do,” Nora confirmed. “He is buying insanely expensive tea, and yet, he has substantial debt he doesn’t know how to resolve.” 

“Is that why he was so furious when I arrived?” 

Nora sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s a long story, Melody. He’s been under a lot of pressure lately, with the failed spice caravan and all his debts. But it’s more than that. I don’t know how much longer I can live here.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” Melody said, taking Nora’s hand into her own. “Things must have been so hard for you after I left.” 

Nora smiled reassuringly. “You cannot blame yourself for finding a way out. I need one for myself as well. You know what a hard man your father is. He doesn’t believe that women should be educated or have any true purpose in life beyond being wives and mothers. But I want more than that, Melody. I want to learn everything there is to know. I want to do something meaningful.”

Melody seemed to hesitate, almost as if she had something to say, but wasn’t certain whether it was the right moment for it. 

“Is something the matter?” Nora wondered softly. 

“Nora, I… I don’t mean to upset you, but Travis told me something you should know. He was at Lord Fauntleroy’s card game two nights ago, and there, Travis overheard Father talk about marriage.” 

“Marriage?” Nora echoed. “Mine?” 

“Yes, yours,” Melody acknowledged. “Apparently, he thinks it’s the best solution, given the circumstances. 

Nora felt as if someone threw a bucket of ice-cold water over her. “But… who does he want to marry me off to?” 

“I don’t know,” Melody admitted. “He didn’t mention a name, but apparently, he already has someone in mind. And he seems determined to go through with it soon. Perhaps it could be a way for you to finally escape this house.” 

“Escape?” Nora’s voice reverberated around them, returning to her with even more incredulity. “Melody, you know how I feel about marriage. The last thing I want is to be another man’s servant, to be needed just for the purposes of bearing children and then live my life according to someone else’s rules, just like I’ve been doing so far. It wouldn’t be an escape. It would be just a change of a home, but with another master. I want to be free, to choose my own path in life.” 

Melody reached out, taking Nora’s hand into her own. “I understand that, Nora. But what can you do about it? My father won’t give you the freedom you seek. To him, you are a daughter. A commodity that is to be exchanged for benefits in society, just like he did with me.” 

Nora smiled. “But Travis loves you.” 

“Yes,” Melody gushed. “I was fortunate. Travis is the most wonderful man in the world. I couldn’t imagine being married to anyone else.” 

“I am very happy that is so, Melody, you know I am. But I know that won’t happen for me. I… I am not that fortunate,” Nora said sadly. “All I know is that I cannot let your father dictate my future. I am very grateful for what he has done for me, for taking me in when I had no one, but I won’t be his tool in his quest to climb higher on the social ladder. I have to find a way to make my own choices, to live my own life.” 

“You know you can always stay with us,” Melody suggested tenderly. 

Nora was washed over by love for her cousin. They had grown up together, as sisters, and their bond had only strengthened in time. Now, she couldn’t imagine her life without her, although they did not see each other as often as they used to. 

“I really appreciate your offer, Melody,” Nora replied, feeling as if she might start crying at any moment. “But you and Travis have only been married for two years. You need to spend time together and alone. You need to… work on expanding your family, and I would only be in the way.” Nora chuckled and her cousin joined in. 

“Yes, I am hoping that we might have some good news to share very soon,” Melody said mysteriously, much to Nora’s delight. 

Melody was one of the kindest people she had known, and she deserved nothing but happiness. As for herself, she viewed happiness as something other than being married to a man. She never planned on getting married, simply because she believed that no man would understand her need for intellectual pursuits, her need to be her own person, without having to adjust to someone else’s needs. In the end, it seemed easier to simply remain alone her entire life, and do the things that made her happy. However, the ton viewed it as selfishness, although she didn’t see it as such. It was her own life, and she had the right to be responsible for it. 

“I am so happy,” Nora spoke, blinking away a few stray tears. “And don’t worry about me. I will find a way out of this, I promise.” 

“I know you will,” Melody nodded. “You have always been the more resourceful one. Just remember that you are not alone in this. I am here for whatever you need.” 

“Thank you, Melody. I needed to hear that,” Nora responded, wrapping her arms around her cousin and embracing her tightly. 

The two cousins sat in silence for a moment, drawing strength from each other’s presence. Despite the oppressive darkness of Uncle Giles’ home and the uncertainty of the future, Nora felt a spark of hope. With Melody’s support, perhaps she could find a way to break free from the constraints that bound her, and forge her own destiny. 

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In an era where duty often trumps desire, Lady Cordelia Harrington’s noble family is on the brink of financial ruin. Her younger sister, Felicity, dreams of marrying for love but cannot wed until Cordelia is betrothed. Driven by a sense of responsibility and a heart full of kindness, Cordelia agrees to marry the reclusive Duke of Whitestone, Julian Simon, despite their only meeting being at a masked ball where he was inexplicably rude.

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