Maggie reached up and pulled the curtains nearest to her closed. “I love you, Max. I will never tire of telling you that…and I will never tire of this.” She giggled.
Max pulled the other curtain shut and leaned into her, covering her body with his own. “I feel sure that Harlow asked Cabot to keep anyone from the room as he left, so let us pick up where we left off last evening.”
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Thank you so much for reading The Earl She Left Behind! But wait. Can I tempt you with a wicked earl?
Turn the page and read the first chapter of the Earl of Bergen.
IMPORTANT author’s note on Earl of Bergen: British spellings and grammar have been used in this book in an effort to reflect the time period it portrays and in an effort to bring historical accuracy, while maintaining readability. For example: traveling is travelling and favor is favour.
Preview of Earl of Bergen Chapter One
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Stony Stratford, England
1817
Deuced tired of travelling in the freezing wet weather, Lord Thomas Bergen urged his horse onto High Street in the direction of one of the baiting houses. The journey home had been especially tedious this time, thanks to the nasty weather. He should have expected it, so close to Christmas. It was lucky that it had not started snowing. The skies seemed to threaten that very misfortune.
His horse stopped, prompting him to make a choice. “You know me too well, my girl.” He sniggered and patted her neck. The two inns he patronized stood almost next door to each other—both offered pleasurable entertainment and a hearty meal; he had enjoyed many a good time at both.
Noise accompanied a couple of over-served men as they were tossed through the door of the Bull Inn into the road in front of him, thus making his decision for him.
“Ah…the Bull Inn seems to be lively tonight. ’Tis exceedingly tempting, but somewhat more than I am ready to take on tonight.” He laughed out loud, as if conversing with his mare. “It will be the Cock Inn for me this night, Merry.” With that, he patted his horse and nudged her towards a post outside the inn. At his approach, a young ostler straightened from a position against the wall and he handed the reins over. Fishing in his waistcoat pocket, Bergen withdrew a shilling for the groom. “Take good care of Merry, and I will match this in the morning. What is your name, lad?”
“Perry, my lord,” the young man answered, taking the proffered reins. “I’ll do an especially fine job with her—I’ll rub her down, and feed her, and I’ll make sure she gets a warm blanket.”
Bergen chuckled. “I’m sure you will. Is there anyone here who could check her shoes? We stumbled over a rut in the road a few miles ago, and I noticed her gait was uneven for a while afterward. She may need a hind one replaced or tightened.”
“Certainly, my lord. Smitty is still here and will be happy to look her over for you.”
“Thank you, lad. Merry will give you no trouble.” He patted his dappled grey mare and grabbed his saddle-bag. He had thought the journey would take only a day, but the weather had considerably mired the road. A good night’s sleep for both of them would be just the ticket.
Loud music, raucous singing and the smell of mutton assailed him upon entering the inn. His stomach reacted quickly, growling loudly. Yes, I will feel better shortly, he thought to himself. A hearty meal and a good night’s sleep would feel wonderful.
The innkeeper and his wife—a short round man and an almost matching woman—greeted him. “Good evening, my lord. How can we serve ye?”
“I need a room and a good meal.” Bergen smiled in anticipation.
“Do ye think ye be staying more than a night?”
“Just tonight, thank you.” Bergen looked towards the tap-room and surveyed the merriment. It would be the wee hours of the morning before that settled down. “Do you have a room available which is not over the main room down here?”
“Certainly, we do, my lord. Would ye like your meal and a hot bath brought up for ye, my lord?” the missus asked. Without giving him a moment to respond, she continued, “We be serving lamb stew and I made fruit cake special for tonight. ’Tis the Christmas season, after all, and we are starting to do some of our cooking. Lamb be my husband’s favourite dish, isn’t that right, William?” She gently nudged him with her elbow.
The innkeeper started. “Yes, yes, dearest wife.” He coughed and stood straighter. “Lord Bergen, it is good to see ye. It has been too long.”
“Thank you. It is good to see you and your wife looking so well.” He smiled at the wife. “And lamb is also my favourite dish, so ’tis a lucky thing for me that I stopped here this night.” The innkeeper’s wife smiled broadly at his remarks.
“Did Lord Weston come with ye?” The innkeeper walked to the door and glanced out.
“No, Lord Weston is not with me on this occasion.” Bergen was not sure where this was going but appreciated that the man seemed to like both Edward and him. Maybe the room would be decent. The last time they had stayed here there had been live female entertainment…all night. A smile tugged at his mouth at the memory. The girl had been a pretty one—he could not recall her name, but he could easily recollect the low cut of her gown.
“Yes, well, Lord Weston is probably just returning from his honeymoon.” He glanced down at his muddy boots and frowned. “I am making a bit of a mess in the entrance, here. A bath would be most welcome, thank
