Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
Newsletter and Social Media Links
About the Author
Other books by Carole Mortimer
Copyright © 2020 Carole Mortimer
Cover Design Copyright © Glass Slipper WebDesign
Editor: Linda Ingmanson
Formatter: Glass Slipper WebDesign
ISBN: 978-1-910597-88-0
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All Rights Reserved.
Dedication
My husband, Peter
Prologue
Winter Estate, Surrey, England
March 1819
She said no!
After all James had been through, all he had done to arrive at this moment in his life, the lady he loved, and whom he had thought loved him in return, had refused his proposal of marriage.
The relevant fact being, James had thought Beatrix loved him in return.
They had not spoken of it before now, and sadly, it seemed she did not feel the same love for James as he felt for her. She could not, when she had refused to become his wife.
James glanced up through the window from inside his carriage, toward the east wing of the huge manor house from which he was about to depart. The country home of Lord Benedict Winter, the older brother of the woman James loved.
The windows reflected back at him in the weak March sun, and yet he still imagined he could see Beatrix there, looking down at him longingly from behind the curtains as he in turn gazed up at the rooms he knew she occupied in this vast mansion.
Beautiful Beatrix, with whom James had fallen in love at first sight when they first met a month ago.
Because of the scars upon her face, Beatrix had, for the past ten years, chosen to shut herself away from Society. Those scars were the remnants of the shattering of glass during a carriage accident all those years ago, in which both her parents had been killed.
After their initial meeting James had not even noticed those scars. Or, if he did, then it was with gratitude Beatrix had survived the accident.
But James knew, from conversing with her brother, that Lady Beatrix believed they precluded her from ever being worthy of the love of any gentleman.
It would seem she now included the new Earl of Ipswich amongst their number.
It did not help that James’s title now made him a member of the Society Beatrix had long ago decided she could never be a part of. She preferred to avoid the sideways glances and whispered comments of those ladies and gentlemen, knowing they could do no other than stare at the evidence of those injuries on her face and throat.
As far as James was concerned those scars were no longer as noticeable as Beatrix believed them to be. They now appeared as nothing more than a network of silver lines on her jaw and down the side of her neck.
In any case, James had assured Beatrix he would happily forgo the company of Society if she did not wish to be a part of it. Goodness knows he had done without the approval of those superior ladies and gentlemen during his own ten years of exile. He would happily continue to do so for the rest of his life, as long as he could have Beatrix at his side as his wife.
Still, Beatrix had refused his marriage proposal.
James had no idea what he was going to do now. He had already spent years hiding his true identity amongst the poor in London’s slums. Then the nerve-racking days and nights of pretending to be the valet of Julius Soames, the Earl of Andover, so they might find the evidence which would prove James’s uncle was not the true Earl of Ipswich. That was followed by the scandal of his uncle committing suicide upon being confronted with accusations of his attempt to kill James ten years ago and his usurping of the title.
These events had been quickly set right when the Prince Regent himself had recognized James as the rightful earl, and afterward enfolded James into his close social circle of friends.
The only reason James had endured those previous ten years of hardship had been for the continued safety of his younger sister, their uncle being her rightful guardian until she reached the age of one and twenty. Julius Soames had fallen in love with Bethany, and she was now his countess, ensuring her continued health and happiness.
But James could never regret the circumstances which had led to him meeting and falling in love with Beatrix. Indeed, he would gladly endure all that hardship again if it meant Beatrix would be his at the end of the ordeal.
Except she had said no!
Beatrix did not want him, or to become his wife.
He’d endured all these past dramatic weeks of reclaiming his title with the sole intention of claiming Beatrix as his own. Now that she had refused him, he had no idea what he was going to do with the future stretching out before him.
“I trust you know what you are about by refusing him, my darling sister.”
Beatrix turned from looking out the window as the gleaming black Ipswich carriage moved steadily down the driveway toward the main road.
She smiled warmly at Benedict, six years her senior and the man who had always been her hero. So much of one, she had recently learned, Benedict had denied his own happiness for many years out of his desire to protect and serve her.
Benedict’s selfless self-sacrifice on her behalf was one of the reasons for Beatrix’s future actions and decisions.
“I trust I do too, brother,” she answered ruefully before turning to watch wistfully out the window as the Ipswich carriage turned and then disappeared onto the road back to London. Taking James with it.
Chapter One
One week later
Blackborne House, London
“You are trembling, my dear.”
Beatrix was so nervous, she was not in the least surprised her brother could feel her gloved hand trembling as it rested upon
