The Earl's Desire_Clean Regency Romance Read online

  Isabel could not help but wonder what the Earl and his brother had been like as children. Was there another side to Baldwin? She had a hard time imagining so at this moment. He was haughty and mean-spirited. There was not a bone in her body that could envisage herself married to this man now.

  “He has not had an easy life,” the Earl continued, his expression giving nothing away. “I tried to be kind to him when we were growing up, but our father was not. I’m afraid Baldwin suffered much as the younger son of a man who was spiteful and unhappy after our mother passed. Baldwin was quite young and needed love and attention, something our father could not give in his grief-stricken state. He thought Baldwin weak and needy. He was only eight years old! What did the man expect?” The Earl seemed to be speaking to himself at this point, the memory clearly distressing him.

  Isabel sighed, her predicament dire at the moment. Could she marry Baldwin? If she had to choose between him or William, he was probably the better choice. They could live at the manor, where she could carry on the legacy of the man she really loved in familiar surroundings. Her children would still have the last name she had longed for and have the blood of Alexander’s family. She would still remain near to her family.

  “Please,” he urged. “I know this is not my place to ask something so great. But I would not ask if I did not also believe it would honor Alexander’s legacy, and be of benefit to you, dear child.”

  Isabel looked intently at the man she regarded so highly, the man she assumed was going to be her father-in-law one day. He was a kind man, a man who had loved greatly in his life and lost nearly everything in a span of a few months. And he was asking her to become part of his family in the only way he knew how. How could she deny such a request?

  “Very well,” she forced out, her stomach rolling at the thought. “I will marry him.” The Earl smiled then as Isabel swallowed hard, wishing she could fall into a hole and never come out. Her life was changing so drastically that she worried about the next piece that would arise. What more could there be?

  Chapter 10

  “What do you think about that plan, dearest Isabel?”

  Isabel forced a smile, her insides dead. She and Baldwin were walking the grounds of the Hertford estate. He was animated as he told her of his ideas to change so many of the gardens and buildings that Isabel felt were the very character of the property. He seemed intent to rid the area of landmarks that brought him painful memories from his youth, while Isabel countered his ideas with attempts to retain the essence of the estate.

  When they came upon the tree fort where she and Alexander had played, Baldwin immediately suggested having the groundskeepers sent out to remove the eyesore. He was surprised at Isabel’s cry of distress, which she covered up by explaining what a treat it would be for their future children to play in. She immediately felt it was a betrayal to Alexander to suggest having children with this man, but Baldwin was clearly pleased that she was thinking of their future in this way. She had recoiled when he tried to steal a kiss, unaware of how close they were to the very spot where Alexander had kissed her years earlier. Baldwin had accepted her reticence but reminded her, “you shall soon be my Countess,” sending a shiver down her neck that Baldwin ardently mistook for desire.

  “Isabel?” Baldwin’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

  What was it he asked me? It wasn’t the first time that Isabel had lost herself so completely in thought that she had failed to respond to a question from her future husband.

  “I thought we could extend the row of oak trees to the west end of the property,” Baldwin repeated as they crested the hill that overlooked the carriage path from the public road to the home itself.

  Isabel nodded absently as she looked in the direction to which Baldwin referred. Shielding her eyes against the sun, Isabel was the first to see a figure walking up the path, a man judging from the outline of his shadow. With the sun low in the sky behind him, it was impossible to make out his features, but his gait was oddly familiar. Her heart began to hammer uncontrollably as the memories fell into place. Isabel’s hand went to her throat and the blood drained from her face. It cannot be . . . .

  Picking up her skirts, she raced down the hill, nearly stumbling as Baldwin shouted for her to stop. The man’s clothes were worn and dusty, his hair nearly to his shoulders and his face gaunt. He stopped in his tracks, too weary to take another stop, as he saw Isabel running towards him.

  “Alexander!” she cried as she launched herself at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh, Alexander!”

  “Isabel,” he rasped, his arms weak, yet straining to return her tight embrace.

  Her tears wetting the worn material on his uniform, she hugged him tightly, feeling the telltale signs of malnourishment in his frame. Regaining strength from the sight and feel of her, he managed to lift her and spin her around as she laughed, all of her worries melting away in an instant. Alexander was home!

  “We thought you perished. We were told you had been lost at sea after being wounded. Where have you been?” she asked as he settled her back to her feet gently, his eyes warm with emotion.

  “I was washed toward the shore with the tide and a fisherman discovered me and rescued me,” he replied, his hands coming up to frame her face affectionately. She leaned into his touch, his familiar touch, as tears of joy ran unchecked down her cheeks. “His wife nursed me back to health. It was a long time before I had the strength to begin the journey home.” He smiled, affection in his voice. “They thought it too soon, but I told them I had someone very important waiting for me back home.”

  “I say, unhand my fiancée!” The shrill command pierced the air.

  Isabel whirled around to see Baldwin striding toward them, heaving air into his lungs, winded from the effort of chasing after her. He stopped abruptly when he realized who the stranger was, turning pale at the sight of him. “Alexander! ’Tis that you?”

  “Fiancée?” Alexander said, looking from Baldwin to Isabel, a questioning glance in his puzzled eyes.

  “Isabel has consented to marry me,” Baldwin replied, recovering quickly from the shock of seeing his nephew. “Your father encouraged us and Isabel has agreed. She is so fond of the estate and her insight around the property has been such an advantage to the planning of our future here.”

  Isabel shot daggers with her eyes at Baldwin’s audacity as she saw the range of emotions flash on Alexander’s face, his hands dropping from her.

  “You have recovered quickly following news of my presumed demise,” he said softly, a hint of steel in his voice. “Do you wish to be the Countess of Hertford that desperately, Isabel?”

  “No, no, ’tis not like that at all,” she said hastily. “I refused at first, I was in mourning, I, I . . .”

  Alexander turned away from her, his stride suddenly strong and quick despite his fatigue, anxious to put distance between him and the woman he once loved, the woman he thought of night and day, thoughts that gave him the strength to survive a war, survive the sea, and carry him home.

  “Alexander, wait!” she cried, her heart breaking that he thought she had abandoned him. She could not let him go, not without explaining what she had suffered when she heard he had perished. To tell him she had not believed it so. That everyone, even his father, had forced her to accept that he was gone forever, and had urged her to move on.

  Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and stopped her in her tracks, clenching them painfully to hold her into place.

  “Stop it! Have some dignity. You shall not chase after him,” Baldwin announced as Isabel watched Alexander disappear from sight. “I forbid it.”

  “Get your hands off of me!” she shouted.

  “If you try to break our engagement, I will ruin you. You will not be fit to marry anyone, much less your beloved Alexander,” he spat the name out in frustration as Isabel twisted and wrenched from his grasp, hurrying down the path to the house.

  She had to explain to him that this was not as it seemed. Ale
xander had to understand that her love was only for him. Reaching the front door, she startled the butler as she brushed past him and ran into the parlor, looking for Alexander.

  The Earl sat quietly reading as she breathlessly rushed into the warm, inviting room.

  “Isabel! My dear, what is it, child?” The Earl set down his book and stood as Isabel collapsed on the floor, spent both from the emotion of Alexander’s return and having run as fast as she could to escape Baldwin’s attempts to hold her back.

  “’Tis Alexander,” she cried. Seeing the blood drain from the Earl’s face, she continued, “He is alive! He is home! Did he not come directly here?”

  “A-Alexander is alive?” the Earl repeated, standing abruptly. “Where is he? Where is my son?”

  After Isabel rapidly explained that Alexander was distraught at hearing of her betrothal to Baldwin and disappeared, the Earl dispatched three of his groomsmen to search the estate and bring Alexander home.

  “I knew he was not dead! I would have felt it in my heart,” Isabel cried, to no one in particular. Oh, Alexander, please forgive me. I did not move on so easily as you believe.

  Chapter 11

  Alexander stole through to the kitchen, finding the first warm loaf of bread and cheese in the larder and ripping a piece off, chewing on it with some force. He had been traveling by foot for days, sleeping under trees and foraging on wild berries and nuts in an effort to get home to his family and his fiancée. But she wasn’t his fiancée. He had lost her once again. And she was marrying his uncle, of all people. He had fought off death to return home and be with her. Had he misjudged her all these years? Was she really only interested in becoming the Countess of Hertford?

  Banging his fist on the rough kitchen table, Alexander welcomed the pain. After all, that was what he had lived with for months, his shoulder just now back to working condition. It would never be the same, but he was fortunate that the fisherman’s wife had been able to rid his body of the infection that had spread and nearly cost him his arm. He would be forever grateful to that couple.

  “A-Alexander, son, is it really you?”

  Alexander turned to find his father standing in the doorway, looking older than he had remembered.

  “It is me, father,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion as his father walked over and embraced him tightly. “I am home.”

  “Praise be to God!” the Earl said, clapping him on the back. “I never thought I would see you again. We all thought the worst. They saw you go overboard in the frigid waters, wounded, and with only enemy ships around. When you had not been found on any of the British ships that returned from the battle, the told us all hope was lost.”

  Alexander briefly told the Earl how he was saved by the fisherman and nursed back to health. “Where is mother?” Alexander then asked, wanting to ensure that his mother saw him as soon as possible. The word would spread like wildfire now and he wanted to be the one to tell her that he was home.

  His father pulled back, tears in his eyes and a sadness on his face that told Alexander what he did not want to know even before the Earl spoke the words. “She contracted a terrible fever and never recovered, Alexander. She was already in a weakened state, mourning the loss of her only son. I’m afraid she succumbed to the illness, still calling your name with her last breath.”

  Her death was a blow and Alexander stumbled back, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. His mother was dead? His vibrant mother, who was always happy, smiling . . . was dead? So much had happened while he was gone.

  Clearing his throat, Alexander gave his father another hug. “I am sorry I was not here for you during that difficult time. And I am sorry for whatever role I played in mother’s illness. Had I not been so stubborn and insisted on fighting in the conflict . . . she . . .”

  “No, son, I was an old fool to try to stop you.” the Earl sighed. “I understand you were doing a noble thing, what you thought was right. I am so proud of you.”

  “But my actions caused you to lose so much . . .,” Alexander almost could not bear the pain he had caused his family.

  “You are home now. This is a joyous occasion. Isabel is ecstatic . . . let us go into the parlor to her. The servants shall prepare a proper meal fit for a king . . . or at least a future Earl.” The Earl smiled weakly and took hold of Alexander’s arm as they slowly made their way towards the grand hallway, uncertain which of them needed greater assistance to steady their shaky legs.

  Hearing Isabel’s name drove daggers into Alexander’s wounded heart. “I hear she is to marry Baldwin.”

  “Only at my request,” the Earl said, surprising Alexander. “I asked her to do so in hopes that she would remain a part of this family and honor your legacy. I was trying to protect her and our land, knowing my brother would need a strong, steady hand to guide him into running this estate when I am gone. And hoping Isabel could find some happiness by staying close to the place that meant so much to you both.” The Earl raised his arm and waved his hand in dismissal. “It is of no concern now. You are home and we shall remedy this misunderstanding at once.”

  Alexander took in his father’s presence for the first time since they had reunited, seeing the gauntness in his frame and his face. “You are ill.”

  “So the physicians say,” his father replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “I cannot say I was not looking forward to death. With you and your mother gone, there was nothing left for me to remain here for.” He cleared his throat and looked at his son. “But now there is a reason for me to live. ’Tis you and Isabel who will bring joy to my life.”

  Alexander thought of the harsh words he had said to her; the way he had berated her for her engagement to his uncle when his father had been the reason all the while. “I’m afraid I have caused a grave error,” he said softly. “I was terribly unkind to Isabel when Baldwin informed me of their betrothal.”

  His father clapped him on the shoulder and smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. “Errors can be undone,” he said. “Do not waste another moment. You and Isabel have waited too long for happiness. I would consider begging and pleading until she accepts your apology.” He patted Alexander’s shoulder and gently steered him toward the parlor.

  “What about Baldwin?” Alexander asked. “He seemed he could be quite a vindictive fellow. Will he not cause trouble if Isabel breaks their engagement?”

  “I shall take care of my brother,” the Earl replied with a smile. “Do not allow this opportunity to pass you by, my son. I only wish to see both of you happy and that will only be with each other.”

  Dusting off his hands, Alexander walked towards the parlor where he hoped Isabel would be alone. “I shall go make amends straightaway.”

  She was sitting on the settee in front of the fire, her hands folded in her lap. Approaching her cautiously, he clasped his hands behind his back and stood next to her. “I have made a grave error,” he started, looking past her, out the window at the view of his mother’s rose bushes. “I was quick to make judgment and I apologize greatly.”

  “You should have had more faith in me,” she chided, hurt in her voice. “I would have never willingly given up on you. Everyone, even your father, insisted that you could not possibly have survived.”

  “I did not know what to think, Isabel, when Baldwin declared that you and he would marry,” he said honestly, having no other excuses.

  She sighed. “You did not give me a chance to speak.” When his face contorted in pain, she softened. “I suppose it did appear rather odd, but if I could have written you back, you would have known where my heart was. Where it has always been.”

  “I love you, Isabel,” he said suddenly, turning to find her staring at him, her beautiful profile taking his breath away. “I have loved you my entire existence.”

  “And I love you,” she said softly, tenderness stealing across her face. “There is no one else in my heart but you, Alexander. There never was.”

  He knelt beside her, taking one of her
hands in his. “I promise to never have any doubts of you again, my sweet Isabel. If you will have me back, that is.”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand. “If that is your desire, my lord, I would love nothing more.”

  Alexander rose and took a seat next to her on the settee. He placed one hand alongside her cheek and smiled. Their eyes locked and he leaned in, brushed his lips over hers, reveling in the connection, the bond he knew was always there. “Shall we go and make this announcement official?” he whispered as he pulled his lips from hers.

  Isabel nodded.

  Alexander fought back the tears as he buried his face into her shoulder, taking in the clean, earthy smell that was Isabel. He would seek comfort in her in the days to come, knowing that she would understand. Isabel had always understood.

  Epilogue

  Isabel smiled as Alexander took her arm in his and led her through the aisle of the chapel and into the brilliant sunshine. His eyes twinkled with a happiness that mirrored her own as he proudly presented his wife to the small group of attendees at the wedding ceremony.

  It was finally done. She and Alexander were married. The ring was heavy on her finger, but Isabel took solace in the fact that no one was going to be able to separate them now. They were married in the eyes of God and their families. Even Baldwin was in attendance. The Earl had bestowed a tract of his unentailed land upon his brother together with an annual income to make up for the broken engagement and for the years that Baldwin had been damaged by their father’s neglect and feelings of inferiority.

  The brothers were making amends, which was fine with Isabel. After all, she had her true love by her side now. And her cousin, William, well, he found a woman that was just as socially awkward as he and the last letter they had received had been foretelling of a marriage in the near future. While they would have never worked out, Isabel was pleased that her cousin had found someone to accept him for who he was.