The Earl's Encounter (Regency Rendezvous Book 7) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Wendy Vella

  Regency Rendezvous

  A Scarsdale Publishing Perfection Imprint

  Copyright © 2017 The Earl’s Encounter Wendy Vella

  This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

  Cover Design R. Jackson Designs

  Images: Period Images

  www.scarsdalepublishing.com

  SP

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  P.S. I Loath You

  More Regency Rendezvous Romances

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  London 1812

  Viscount Haddon raised his collar as he entered the graveyard. It was cold enough that his breath formed white puffs of air, and mist clung to him as he walked the well-worn path. Rows of headstones veered left and right, and beneath were the bones of hundreds who had reached their final resting place.

  He had been roused by his valet at the ungodly hour of 5:00 a.m., and handed a note that Nibbly believed needed his attention urgently.

  I can wait no longer to speak to you, Joseph. Please come to the cemetery immediately. I shall be waiting beside my mother’s grave.

  It had been signed Millicent.

  Surprise hauled him from his bed, and had him dressing with haste. His betrothed was not someone who usually left the warmth of her bed before the sun was well advanced. For that reason alone, Joseph realized something was very wrong.

  “My lord.”

  She stepped from behind a headstone to stand before him. The hood of her cloak was up, covering her face, and he would not have recognized her but for her voice. Soft, cultured, the woman before him was soon to be his wife. Lady Millicent Lawrence, his love.

  “Millicent?” Joseph stepped closer.

  “Don’t speak, please just listen.”

  Joseph looked around them, for all the good it did him; he could see nothing through the swirling mists.

  “Are you here alone?”

  “I am. Now please listen to me, as what I have to say is important.”

  Something had happened; the woman he knew would never take such a risk with her reputation as to venture out unchaperoned.

  “What has happened, my sweet?” Cupping one silken cheek, he stared into her lovely blue eyes. Her fragile beauty had caught and held him from the first glance. He loved her with a fierceness that sometimes took his breath away.

  “Joseph!” The snap in her voice caught his attention. Sweet, biddable Millicent Lawrence had never spoken to him this way. His unease increased

  “You are upset.” He reached for her, but she retreated, something else she had never done before. “Let me take you to my carriage. It will be warmer there and we can talk.”

  “I do not need to be warmer! What I need is for you to listen to me!”

  He was held momentarily speechless by the tone of her voice. He’d never heard her raise it before, and definitely never in his company.

  “Then speak, and we will leave here before you catch a chill.”

  He watched as she drew a deep, steadying breath, and the gesture unsettled him.

  “Millicent?”

  “I no longer wish to marry you, Lord Haddon. I do not love you.”

  “What!”

  “I will not repeat it, and am sure you have no wish for me to, either. I love another, and it is he I will wed.”

  “No.” Joseph reached for her. “You love me, as I love you. There is no other.”

  She stepped away from him, her face blank of all emotion.

  “I liked the idea of one day becoming a countess. Alas, your father is a healthy man, and shows every sign of living for many more years. Therefore, I no longer wish to marry you. And I do not love you.”

  Joseph couldn’t believe her callous words. Surely they were not true? He loved her, as she did him. They were to have a family and grow old together. Everything was planned.

  “I don’t believe you. What has happened to make you speak to me this way?”

  “Will your conceit not allow you to believe that I never loved you, but another? I am an excellent actress, Lord Haddon.”

  “Enough!” Anger vibrated in the word. “You are lying to me, Millicent. I know what lies between us, and you are not that good an actress.”

  “La!” She trilled out a laugh. “Well indeed, I had you fooled, and half of London. But I have realized that the man I love is everything you are not, and that I cannot spend a lifetime faking my love for you.”

  “Stop it now! Whatever has happened, I can help you.”

  Desperation had Joseph reaching for her again, but she backed away.

  “N-no. Please, I am leaving London, and have no wish to speak on the matter further. I will leave the details of how it ends to you. I’m sure both you and your family will wish a minimum of fuss. Goodbye, Lord Haddon.”

  Before he could stop her, she had disappeared into the mist, leaving him standing alone, head reeling, body cold, and his heart broken into tiny pieces at his feet.

  Chapter Two

  Oxfordshire 1816

  Joseph had left the inn at 2:00 a.m., after snatching a few hours’ sleep. His bed had been lumpy, the room damp, and he had not wanted to spend more time rolling about attempting to keep warm, so he was now riding down the road in what could politely be termed “frigid conditions.”

  He understood the risks of riding alone at night, and took precautions. His pistol was tucked into the waistband of his breeches, and he carried a knife in his boot. It was not snowing... yet, and while it was cold enough to numb his nose, he enjoyed the solitude.

  He could travel by moonlight and sing loudly if he chose to. Of course, he didn’t choose to, as he had no wish to give nightmares to all the creatures slumbering peacefully in their resting places, but it was an option should he require it.

  There were no idiots about who believed they had right of way in a lumbering coach, or young fools racing from one
point to another to best another young fool. There was just peace, he thought, looking up the road before him.

  When had he become so jaded? Life’s lessons and responsibilities, Joseph realized, had a way of honing personality. He’d once been carefree, his most pressing responsibility the folds of his necktie. All that had changed four years ago. Now he was the head of his family, his heart was encased in stone, and life had taken a series of twists and turns that had changed him irreparably.

  Rounding the bend, he came to a halt as he saw the figure on the road before him. A woman was walking with a large sack-like bag in one hand, leading a small dog with the other. What the hell was a woman doing out here at such an hour in these conditions? He hadn’t found a lame horse lurking on the roadside, nor a carriage with broken axle, so he had to rule those out as reasons.

  She hadn’t heard his horse’s hooves, as he had been walking on the grass. The other reason she couldn’t hear him was due to her singing. Her voice was loud, and like his, unable to carry a tune.

  Clearing his throat loudly, then coughing just to be sure she’d heard him, he began to walk his horse forward. She turned to look at him, and let out a shriek, which made the little dog start yipping, and began scurrying to the verge.

  “Pardon me, madam, for startling you, but you appear to be walking in the middle of the road.” Of all the things he could have said, Joseph had chosen that one. Not, you bloody foolish woman, have you lost your wits, what are you thinking to be walking about alone at night in winter, which surely would have been more appropriate.

  “Oh, forgive me, I had no idea someone was coming.”

  Her voice came out shrill and shaky as she hurried to move, dragging the reluctant dog with her. She did not stop until she was pressed against the bushes that lined the road, which left enough room for his horse and a carriage to pass.

  “Are you in need of assistance at all, madam?” Joseph said, reluctantly dismounting. He had neither the time or interest to help some fool woman who should know better but obviously didn’t. However, he’d been raised a gentleman, so he would see to it she was all right, and if so he’d leave. As he approached, she backed up rapidly, which now placed her in the bush.

  It was dark, and the moon hidden behind the clouds, but Joseph could see an ugly black bonnet, spectacles, and a rather charming bow shape to her upper lip. The top of her head would brush his chin were he to hold her, and why had that thought slipped into his head? He must be tired. Leaning closer, he took a second look, and something passed through his mind, a memory that was gone as quickly as it appeared, and then he could see nothing but the top of her head as she lowered her eyes.

  “No assistance, thank you.” The words came out in a rush.

  “I mean you no harm, so do not fear me, madam.”

  “Please carry on with your journey, sir.”

  “Have we met?” Joseph said, because strange as it may seem, there was something about this woman that made him take a closer look. An awareness that he could not remember feeling with anyone before.

  “No, we have not, sir.” She had a lisp, it came out when she said sir.

  “How do you know that when I have not given you my name, and you will not look at me?”

  “I know no one of noble birth.” She tried to retreat further as she spoke.

  “There is a bush at your back, madam; pray cease trying to become part of it. I have vowed not to harm you.” She stopped moving, but her eyes remained on his boots. “Now tell me how you know I am of noble birth, if we have never met?”

  “It was a guess. And as you are obviously a gentleman and I am not a lady, I fail to see how our paths could possibly have crossed.”

  Joseph believed himself an astute judge of character, and watching her head turn to look down the road he had just ridden made him think she was expecting someone to appear. If he were to wager a guess, he would say she was running from something.

  “You look like a lady,” the gentleman in him felt duty bound to say.

  “I am of course a lady; however, you are of noble birth, and as such....”

  She couldn’t find the right words to continue with the silly conversation, so Joseph took pity on her.

  “How do you know I’m of noble birth?” he asked her again.

  “Your horse is quality, sir, as are your clothes.” She addressed the words to his boots.

  “And with only a glance you ascertained this, and these things make you believe I am a nobleman? Do men who are untitled not have fine horses and clothes, then?”

  She had no answer to that.

  Suppressing a shiver, Joseph thought about his bed. He wanted to lie down and sleep for a day. His toes were going numb, and the cold was seeping into his bones. He should simply get on his horse and leave, instead of conversing on this silly topic with this silly woman.

  He looked down as he felt two paws on his leg. The ugliest dog he had ever seen was staring up at him. Its face was pointed like a weasel’s, one ear was bent forward the other back, and its eyes were small and beady. The little body was round, and it was wriggling the small stump that Joseph presumed was a tail.

  “Down, Daisy.”

  Joseph could find no resemblance to the pretty, open-faced little blooms that scattered the countryside for several months of the year in this animal.

  “Is that a dog?”

  “Of course it’s a dog.” The woman bristled.

  “Surely Mugwort would have been a more suitable name,” Joseph added, still studying the ugly beast. “She can never hope to live up to the name Daisy with a face like that, whereas Mugwort is a plant that has little beauty but many uses.”

  “That is insulting, sir.”

  Joseph watched the young woman hang the large bag from her wrist, and then bend to pick up the dog and hug her close so the creature’s face obscured hers. Unfortunately, this was followed by several small dog grunts which did nothing to change his opinion.

  “The truth is rarely pleasant, Miss…?”

  “Please continue with your journey, as Daisy and I need to make our next appointment.”

  Her words were muffled in the dog’s fur.

  “My mind is agog to wonder what appointment you could have at such an hour, madam.”

  “That is my business, sir.” She clutched the dog closer, which caused it to grunt again. Her lisp was really rather sweet.

  “Come now, tell me why you are out here alone with no companion? Your voice suggests you are a woman who should have accompaniment, and I would hazard you have seen twenty summers at least, suggesting you should have more sense than what you are currently displaying.”

  “Twenty-five, and I would thank you to keep your opinions to yourself, as you have no notion of why I’m here or what I am about.”

  Her attitude went some way to confirming she was no mere servant. None he knew would speak to him the way she was. Although, in fairness, she did not know who he was... or did she?

  “Tell me why you are here, madam?”

  “I-I was waiting for the coach.”

  “You’ll have a long wait, as it doesn’t come down this road.” Joseph rose up on his toes to stretch his calves. Riding had made them tight.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Stretching,” he said, doing so again.

  She was nervous and frightened, and he suspected frozen to her toes. He could understand the latter, as he had no feeling in his.

  “I wish to help you. My name is Lord Ellsworth, will you tell me yours?”

  She inhaled, as if his words had been a shock. But why would they be? This entire situation was piquing his interest.

  “Are you all right, madam?”

  “No.”

  “No, you are not all right?”

  “No, I do not need your help.”

  “What is your name?” Joseph infused some strength into the question.

  She fell silent, so he waited patiently, his eyes on her, his body barring her exit to the road.
<
br />   “Miss... ah... Higglesworth.” Her words came out in a rush.

  “Come now, you can do better than that, surely?”

  “I have no idea what you mean, my l-lord. Higglesworth is a perfectly fine name, and I’m sure my father would be insulted for your slur upon it. Now if you will excuse me, I will be on my way.”

  “You shall ride my horse and I will walk, Miss Higglesworth.”

  Of course he had no wish to walk, but his options were limited.

  “No, thank you. I have no need of your accompaniment. Good day.”

  Joseph watched as she shuffled sideways, her coat catching in the bush. After wrestling it free, she then skirted around him, dog still clutched to her chest, and her sack in the other hand, and made for the road. She wore boots at least. He hoped the soles bore no holes, or her feet would be wet and cold by now.

  He returned to his horse and rested his forehead briefly on the heated neck before pulling himself once again up and into the saddle. All he’d wanted was a quiet, gentle ride to his estate, before he was greeted with the mayhem of his brothers’ arrival for the annual Stonleigh ball, which he also enjoyed. Yet still, he’d wanted a small allotment of time to himself, to ponder and solve several problems that he’d left behind in London.

  Looking at the woman, he sighed again. He could not in good conscience leave her out here alone, no matter that she believed he should. Tapping his heels into Monty’s side, Joseph urged him forward. Pulling alongside her, he bent and caught the woman under the arms and lifted her up, ugly dog and sack, as well. She was not heavy, so the effort was not great. He then settled her in front of him.

  “What are you doing? Let me down at once!”

  Joseph winced as she screeched, her body going rigid. “Calm yourself,” he said in that voice that everyone but his siblings took notice of. “I have told you I mean you no harm. However, I cannot let a woman, even of your advancing years, walk about on these roads unescorted at this hour. Actually, at any hour,” Joseph amended. “So if you will not ride my horse while I walk, we will both share it.”

  “I will not let you take me up on your horse. How dare you take such a liberty!”