The Earl Who Loved Her By Sophie Barnes
Novels
A Most Unlikely Duke
His Scandalous Kiss
The Earl’s Complete Surrender
Lady Sarah’s Sinful Desires
The Danger in Tempting an Earl
The Scandal in Kissing an Heir
The Trouble with Being a Duke
The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda
There’s Something About Lady Mary
Lady Alexandra’s Excellent Adventure
How Miss Rutherford Got Her Groove Back
Novellas
The Earl Who Loved Her
The Governess Who Captured His Heart
Mistletoe Magic (from Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection)
A chance meeting…
Eve Potter can hardly wait to arrive at Amberly Hall for the Christmas season! The hope is that she will make a match with an eligible gentleman. But as fate would have it, she misses the coach that is sent to collect her from her point of arrival, and starts out on foot…only to go in the wrong direction. Nearly frozen, she arrives at BlackHall, where she is invited inside and introduced to the master of the house, the Earl of Ravenworth. Eve is smitten, for he is beyond handsome, which makes him a temptation she must avoid. But can she…?
Bryce Harlowe lives as a recluse, shuned by Society and even his own family after being accused of a scandalous transgression. The young woman at his door cannot stay at Blackhall less her reputation be ruined. And yet, when the pesky winter climate leaves them snowed in together at Blackhall, Bryce and Eve grow closer, each discovering a mutual respect and longing for the other. Until Bryce’s past is revealed, threatening to rip apart their newfound love…
Buying Links:
B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-earl-who-loved-her-sophie-barnes/1126988128?ean=2940154920855
Chapter One
The
days were getting colder. Eve could feel it in her bones. Glancing toward the
empty fireplace, she addressed her sister, Josephine. “Are you sure you want me
to go?”
“Yes.”
The word was spoken without the slightest hesitation. “Going to Amberly Hall to
visit with your friend Margaret is a wonderful opportunity for you, Eve – one
you mustn’t pass up.”
“You
didn’t mention my going there to Louise before she left,” Eve said in reference
to their other sister, who was four years older than Eve and two years younger
than Josephine. She’d left the day before, after being offered a position as
governess in the northern part of the country.
“I
worried she would postpone travelling or decide not to go at all if she knew.
She didn’t like the idea of leaving us alone for Christmas, but she took some
solace in knowing we would at least have each other.”
“Except
now you will be by yourself in this miserable house.”
Josephine
gave her a sharp look. “We are fortunate to have a house at all. Things could
be worse.”
Knowing
how true that was and how hard Josephine had worked to keep a roof over their
heads, Eve apologized for the comment and said, “Perhaps we should let our
guardian know about our difficulties.”
“No!
Absolutely not, Eve. We have managed to get by without relying on any man this
past year since Papa died, and we shall continue to do so. Because to take money
from a stranger…”
“He
is our uncle.”
“And
yet we have never made his acquaintance.” Josephine shook her head. “It
wouldn’t be right to ask for his help, and I would hate to feel beholden.”
“Very
well. We will find another way.”
“It
will be easier now after Louise has found employment.”
Eve
was well aware. She wished there were more she could do so she could stop
feeling guilty about her sisters working while she did nothing besides look
pretty. But Josephine wouldn’t even let her sweep the floors. Hoping to provide
Eve with the season she and Louise had been denied, Josephine insisted Eve
should not show any signs of work, which meant her hands had to be kept smooth
and unblemished.
Eve
picked up her tea and took a sip, wincing in response to the tepid water as it slid
down her throat. She drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “There is no
guarantee my going to Amberly Hall will benefit us in any way.”
“No,
but it is more likely to do so than your staying here would.” Pressing her lips
together, Josephine turned a fierce pair of eyes on her. “Margaret’s family is
well connected. You are lucky she still remembers you, now our positions are no
longer what they once were.”
“We’ve
known each other since childhood, Josephine. It would have been cruel of her
not to do so.”
Josephine
sighed. “No, dearest. It would have been expected. But her kindness and consideration–the
fact she has invited you to stay with her for the holidays–does speak highly of
her character.”
“Perhaps
I should ask her if you might join me.”
“Absolutely
not,” Josephine said. “To do so would be taking advantage, which is something I
refuse to do. Besides, I have my work here. It does not pause for the holidays.
So you will go to Amberly alone and enjoy yourself with your friend. I will be
perfectly content here, Eve. My only concern is for you travelling alone.”
“The
distance isn’t too great. There are no overnight stays along the way, and I’m
sure other travelers will be joining me. So I won’t be without company.”
“I
suppose that is true.”
But
in spite of the smile Josephine gave her the following day when Eve stepped
onto the stagecoach, Eve sensed her sister was doing her best to put on a brave
face for her sake. It was the first time they would be apart for more than a
day.
Squeezed
into a spot by the window with three other passengers beside her on the bench
and four more across, Eve caught a final glimpse of Josephine as the carriage
lurched into motion.
“Write
to me when you get there!” Josephine called.
A
quick nod was all Eve could manage before the conveyance turned right, carrying
her through a series of streets and out toward the Great Western Road that
would take her to Bournemouth. If all went well, she ought to be there by late
afternoon, in time to enjoy a cup of tea with Margaret before preparing for dinner.
The
carriage charged ahead, stopping every hour to change its team of horses. Sleep
proved impossible with every bump in the road jostling her until her bottom got
sore. Her comfort did get somewhat better as other passengers arrived at their
destinations, allowing for a bit more room inside the cabin.
“Amberly
Hall,” the coachman finally called, pulling the carriage to a halt at around four
o’clock. Darkness was already setting in, encouraged by the thick clouds
blocking the sun. Eve climbed down and retrieved
her bag from the top of the coach. Gripping it in her hand, she watched the
coach lurch into motion once more and disappear down the road.
Right.
She
glanced about. Margaret had said she would send a carriage to collect her, but
the coach had made good time, so she’d arrived a half hour earlier than
expected. With the wind picking up and the light growing dimmer by the second,
she elected to start walking toward the lights she could see in the distance.
Perhaps she would meet the carriage on her way. One thing was certain, however,
and that was the fact she might freeze to death if she stood still for one more
second.
#
Bryce
Elliot Harlowe, Earl of Ravenworth, was preparing to enjoy the brandy he’d
poured when a knock at the door brought his butler into the library. “My Lord,”
Radcliff said, “a woman has arrived.”
“Does
she have a name?” Bryce asked. He glanced across at his favorite chair.
Enjoying a peaceful moment of reading by the fire would clearly have to wait.
“Miss
Potter. She says she is here to see Mrs. Havisham.”
“Then
she must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.” The Havisham home was six miles in
the opposite direction.
“
I wish to know if I might offer her the use of your carriage. It is almost dark
outside, you see, and it has started to snow. Sending a young woman back out
without escort would not sit well with me.”
Bryce
had to agree. It wouldn’t be right to send any woman away again under such
circumstances, no matter her age. “Have Peter make the necessary preparations,
and in the meantime, please ask Miss Potter to join me.” He received few
visitors these days and was starting to grow weary of his isolation.
“Very
well, my lord.” Radcliff left, returning moments later with a woman who stood
encased in a long black pelisse. She wore a floppy bonnet which dipped across
her forehead, concealing her eyes. Several shawls were wrapped tightly across
her shoulders and chest. “May I present Miss Potter?”
The
woman attempted a curtsy even as she shivered, which prompted Bryce to step
forward quickly and guide her toward the fireplace. Once there, he took a step
back and sketched a short bow. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,
Miss Potter. I am the Earl of Ravenworth.”
She
tipped her chin up, her surprise unmistakable. It encompassed her entire face.
But what caught his attention the most were her dark blue eyes. They left him
completely dazed. Radcliff coughed, pulling
Bryce out of his trance and enabling him to gather his wits. He turned toward
his butler. “Please arrange for some tea and sandwiches to be brought up and—”
Miss
Potter sneezed and then she sneezed again. And a third time.
“Oh
dear,” she murmured as she took a step closer to the fire.
Oh dear, indeed.
Bryce
gave her an assessing look before addressing Radcliff once more. “I believe we
should get her out of her wet pelisse and hang it to dry in the kitchen next to
the stove. The same goes for her shawls.”
“Yes,
my lord.” Radcliff, being the practical, no-nonsense man he was, crossed to
where Miss Potter was standing and held out his hand. “If you’ll please give me
your outerwear, miss.”
Miss
Potter hesitated. She glanced at Bryce, who gave her a reassuring nod. “We
would hate for you to catch a cold,” he said. “Such a thing could very well
ruin your Christmas.”
That
seemed to get her cooperation. Her fingers quickly untied her shawls and peeled
them away before going to work on the buttons of her pelisse. This garment came
off too, revealing an equally black dress. But not without hinting at a slender
yet curvaceous form. Beneath the other layers of clothing, her breasts had been
undefined and unremarkable. Now, their rounded curves stood out, drawing
Bryce’s attention in a way that made him wish she would keep on undressing.
Of
course she didn’t. But she did take off her bonnet as well, exposing a pile of
blonde curls that appeared to have been twisted and pinned down by force. It
made him wonder what her hair might look like if it were set free – allowed to
fall down over her shoulders and…
He
swallowed and turned away, grabbing his glass and tossing back his brandy
before swinging around to face Radcliff. “That will be all for now.”
The
butler hesitated, gave a curt nod, and took his leave without closing the door
as he usually did. The gesture was not lost on Bryce, reminding him that Miss
Potter, whatever her station, was a young, most likely unmarried, woman. Being
alone with her behind closed doors would not be appropriate, even if it meant
losing heat from the room.
Sighing,
he considered the figure she presented, standing there warming her hands, and
he found his attention drawn by the shape of her neck. It curved so delicately,
joining with her shoulders before disappearing beneath her gown. A few stray
strands of hair curled against it, and for reasons unknown, his fingers itched
to draw them back into place.
Wincing,
he stepped toward her. “Would you like to sit?” he asked, indicating the
armchair closest to the fire.
“Thank
you.” She turned and lowered herself to the seat, then focused her captivating
eyes on him. “I am sorry to intrude upon you like this, my lord.”
Bryce’s
muscles flexed. The way she said, my lord… Damn, but he could too easily
imagine her addressing him so in a far more intimate setting, a setting in
which fewer clothes would be required.
“You
needn’t be,” he managed to say while he claimed the other chair. His voice
sounded rougher than he would have liked.
“It
is kind of you to offer your carriage, give me tea and sandwiches, and allow me
to warm myself by your fire.” She averted her gaze. “You did not have to.”
“No.
I don’t suppose I did,” he agreed. “But turning you away would not have been
right.”
This
brought her eyes back to his with aching vulnerability. “Do you always do what
is right?”
“I
try to. Yes.” Though you might tempt me
to toss that principle straight out the window. It was a good thing she
wouldn’t be staying long. He’d not had a woman in quite some time, and with
Miss Potter’s arrival, he was starting to recognize the strain of it.
“That
is admirable,” she said, and he could see she meant it, which in turn made his
chest tighten around his expanding heart.
A
maid arrived with a tray, setting it down on a small table before departing the
room once more. Bryce watched Miss Potter fill two cups with tea. “Milk and
sugar?” she asked.
He
shook his head. “No thank you.”
She
poured a splash of milk into her own, picked up the cup, and set the rim to her
lips. Her eyes had initially distracted him from this particular attribute, but
he took greater notice now. And as he did so–as he watched that soft piece of
flesh press against the delicate china–arousal took hold. Never in his life
would he have imagined the simple task of drinking tea could look so bloody
erotic, yet Miss Potter, dressed in her modest black gown, managed to make it
so.
Crossing
his legs, he deliberately strove to hide the effect her arrival was starting to
have on him. Clearly, he’d put off procuring a mistress for far too long.
Tomorrow, he’d set his mind to it.
First
thing in the morning.
In
the meantime, however, “I understand from my butler you were trying to reach
Amberly Hall?”
“Yes.
Mrs. Havisham is a longtime friend of mine. She invited me to visit with her
and her husband for the holidays.”
“And
when you are not in this part of the country, you are in…”
“London,”
she said, finishing his sentence. “I live there with my older sister.”
“What
about your parents?”
She
gave a small shrug as if to diminish the importance of her next words. “Papa
died last year, three years after we lost Mama.”
Bryce
frowned. “I am sorry to hear it.” And he was. He knew all too well how hard it
could be to lose a loved one.
“At
least my sisters and I have each other.”
“So
there is more than one?”
“Yes.
But Louise no longer lives with us. She has recently accepted the position of
governess for the Earl and Countess of Channing’s children. In fact, she left
for the north of England yesterday.”
So
Miss Potter was working class. He’d suspected as much, considering her attire,
but he hadn’t been sure because of her friendship with Mrs. Havisham. He was curious
to know what the older sister she’d mentioned did for a living and what she
herself planned on doing, but couldn’t quite think of how to ask without
imposing.
As
it turned out, he didn’t have to. She revealed the answer by saying,
“Josephine, my oldest sister, is an accountant at the Park View hotel in
London. Her earnings are enough for all of us to get by on, but since she would
like to give me a Season, she…” Miss Potter drew a deep breath. “Forgive me. I
don’t know why I’m telling you all of this.” She made a nervous chuckling sound
and reached for a sandwich, filling her mouth with the bread, ham, and cheese.
“That’s
quite all right. I was interested, so you needn’t apologize.” But the mention
of a Season… Perhaps he’d been wrong about her being working class. “In fact, I
must confess you have managed to heighten my curiosity.”
“Really?”
A few fine breadcrumbs spilled into her lap, and she hastily set about trying
to gather them up and discard them on her plate.
“What
is your family’s background, if you don’t mind my asking?”
She
went completely still, and he wondered if she might give him a set down for
such an imposing question. They were strangers after all. He really had no
right to pry. And doing so was doubly wrong in light of what he knew about her
deceased parents and working sisters. So much for her impression of him doing
the right thing.
“My
great grandfather was a viscount,” she eventually said. “His third son, my
grandfather, went into law and opened a successful business. Unfortunately,
Papa did not have the same legal acumen, and when Mama died, he gave up on
making the effort. Money was lost in an effort to maintain a lifestyle we
couldn’t afford, assets were sold, and my sisters were denied the Seasons
they’d always expected to enjoy, until work became their only option.” She
dropped her gaze, but not before Bryce was able to notice the sheen of moisture
gathering against her lashes. “Josephine and Louise have made so many
sacrifices for me. I have to get to Amberly, if only to make the connections I
am sure to make with Mrs. Havisham’s help.”
“Of
course.” So she was gentry, and if her sisters had anything to say about it,
she would remain so, even if they had to join the working class. Understanding
the guilt and responsibility she probably felt, he chose to turn their
conversation toward a more positive subject. “The annual Christmas dance will
be hosted at the assembly hall this Saturday. I’m sure the Havishams will take
you.”
“Oh.”
Miss Potter’s face brightened. “That would be diverting. I’ve never attended
such an event before.” She gave him an uncertain look before asking, “Will you
be there too?”
He
almost laughed at the absurdity of such a question but managed to maintain his
composure. “No. I prefer to keep to myself.”
“Why?”
She slapped her hand over her mouth, eyes widening with chagrin as she hastily
apologized for asking.
“There’s
nothing wrong with being curious,” he told her gently. He himself was finding
it difficult not to be when every word she spoke made him eager to find out
more about her. Clearly, this self-imposed seclusion of his was beginning to
have its toll. “However,” he went on, “it is my prerogative to refrain from
answering, and I intend to do precisely that.” He did not want the only person
with whom he enjoyed a bit of conversation for the first time in three years to
hate him as much as everyone else did. “We all have our secrets, Miss Potter.
You must allow me to keep mine.”
#
The
gravity with which the earl spoke and the shadows darkening his eyes prompted Eve
to wonder what sort of secrets he might be keeping. Her curiosity regarding
this man had been gradually increasing since the moment she’d stepped into his
library and laid eyes on him.
An
angular jaw and well-defined cheekbones provided his face with a rigid
structure. It was not as displeasing as it might have been without the soft
curve of his mouth and the dark brown warmth of his eyes. His hair, she noted,
was almost black, shot through with lighter chocolate-colored tones.
Standing
tall, at least a full head above her, he exuded confidence and power, the sort that
could send fear shooting through any man who crossed him, and Eve found her
heart beating more rapidly than it had upon her arrival. Left alone with him to
enjoy her tea and the warmth of the fire, she’d calmed her nerves with talk of
her sisters and her situation without once considering how little interest a
man like him would have in such matters.
But
when she’d glanced at him, he hadn’t appeared the least bit bored. Rather, he’d
considered her with compassion, then brought up the country dance, which had
prompted her to take leave of her senses and ask a most forward question. His
response had only made her wonder more about him and why he might choose to
avoid a social gathering. As far as she could tell, the house was fairly quiet.
Surely his wife would have materialized by now, if he had one.
She
bit her lip and glanced around, wondering when the carriage might be ready so
she could be on her way once more. However hospitable the earl was proving to
be, she was certain he would prefer to return to whatever plans he might have
for the evening.
“This
fireplace would be perfect for roasting chestnuts,” she said, when the silence
seemed to drag on for longer than what was comfortable.
Lord
Ravenworth’s eyes filled with amusement. “Is that what you were thinking
about?”
Unwilling
to tell him he’d been the subject of
her musings, she quickly nodded. “The
house I grew up in had an equally large fireplace. Roasting chestnuts on it was
such a lovely pastime activity on cold winter days.”
He
chuckled lightly. “You’re too young to be getting nostalgic, Miss Potter.”
“Perhaps.
But the path my life has taken has made it impossible for me not to be.”
“You
sound as though you have regrets.”
Averting
her gaze, she stared into the dancing flames. “Not regrets so much as a feeling
of overwhelming loss. I miss the comfort of my childhood and the simplicity of my
life when both my parents lived. I miss them both terribly, and I miss the
bright future my sisters and I looked forward to with innocent anticipation.”
A
knock sounded at the door, drawing her attention to the butler who had
returned. “My lord,” he said, addressing his master. “May I have a private word
with you?”
Looking
over at Ravenworth and noting his deep frown, Eve couldn’t stop apprehension from
coursing through her. He gave a curt nod and rose to his feet, departing the
room and leaving her alone to wonder what might have occurred. Of course, there
was the possibility it had nothing to do with her. After all, this was a large
household. Any number of things might demand the earl’s attention.
But
when he returned a short while later and pinned her with his serious eyes, she
knew the matter he’d been made aware of had everything
to do with her. “Forgive me, Miss Potter, but there seems to be a snag in our
plan to get you to Amberly Hall tonight.”
Lips
parting with surprise, she blinked. The
significance of his comment began to sink in. “I cannot possibly remain here,”
she said. “Unless there are other women living under this roof, it would be
most—”
“Improper,”
he said. He held her gaze. “Believe me, I am quite aware of the fact, and to
answer your question, I am the only person in residence, besides the servants.”
“Then
you must agree my staying here is impossible.” If anyone were to find out, as
Margaret and her husband eventually would, her reputation would be called into
question. And while she might be able to convince them that nothing untoward
happened while she spent the night in a bachelor’s home, they would not in good
conscience be able to introduce her to eligible young gentlemen. “If there is a
problem with the carriage or one of the horses, I’ll be more than happy to walk
the distance. You need only point me in the right direction.”
“Absolutely
not.” The adamancy with which he spoke sent a jolt through Eve’s body. “No
gentleman would ever send a woman out into the freezing night so she can walk six
miles to her next destination. It is unconscionable for me to treat you with so
little consideration. And what would your sisters say, or your friend, Mrs.
Havisham, if something were to happen to you? I would be to blame!”
He
drew a shuddering breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “My apologies.
I did not mean to be so brusque about it, but the fact of the matter is, ice
has formed on the road within the past hour. To venture out by carriage, on
horseback, or on foot will be hazardous. I’ll not risk it. Which means you will
remain here as my guest.”
“But
surely—”
“Your
reputation may remain intact if you simply inform your friend that the coach
with which you were traveling lost a wheel and was forced to stop at an inn for
the night.”
“You
want me to lie?”
“Either
that or risk ruining your chance of enjoying the Season your sisters are
working so hard to give you.” It was as if he could read her mind. “In the
meantime, I will ask my housekeeper to have the maids prepare a spare bedroom
for you. You may even have a hot bath brought up if you like. And once you are
ready, I would like you to join me for dinner. I find I’ve been eating alone
for far too long.”
Without
further comment, he left the room while Eve was forced to admit that, as much
as she dreaded the possible impact of staying here, she was secretly thrilled with
the prospect of spending more time in the Earl of Ravenworth’s company.
No comments:
Post a Comment