April's Affections and Intrigues: Love and Mystery Bloom
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Historical Romance week
Wed to wickedness In Society's eyes, Hayden
Fitzwalter, Earl of Ramsay and Jane Bancroft have the
perfect marriage. But what can't be seen are the secrets
hidden behind closed doors. Believing Hayden will never
renounce his dissolute ways, Jane flees to her family's
dilapidated estate in the country. Years later,
Hayden now longs to win back the only woman who has ever
touched his heart. But first he has to convince her that
this rogue is ready to be tamed… BANCROFTS OF BARTON PARK Two sisters, two scandals, two sizzling love affairs
Excerpt Prologue—London, 1810 The most spectacular marriage in London...
Jane Fitzwalter, the Countess of Ramsay,
almost laughed aloud as she read those words. They looked
so solid in their black, smudged newsprint, right their in
the gossipy pages of the Gazette for everyone to see. If it
was written there, so many people thought, it had to be true.
Once she had even believed in it herself,
for a brief moment. But not now. Now the words were hollow
and false, mocking her and all her silly dreams.
The beautiful Ramsays, so young, so wealthy,
so fashionable. They had a grand London house where they
held grand balls, great crushes with invitations fervently
sought by every member of the ton. A grand country house
where they held grand shooting parties, and the laughter and
merriment went on until dawn. Lady Ramsay's hats and gowns,
stored in their own grand wardrobe room, were emulated by
all the ladies who aspired to fashion in London.
And everyone knew the tale of their
marriage. How the young Lord Ramsay glimpsed the even
younger Miss Jane Bancroft across the crowded salon full of
tall, waving plumes at her Court presentation and strode
past the whole gawking gathering to demand an introduction.
How they danced together at two private balls and once at
Almacks and went driving once in Hyde Park, and Lord Ramsay
insisted she marry him. Her guardian wasn't sure, having
doubts about the couple's youth and short acquaintance, but
they threatened to elope and the next thing Society knew
they were attending a grand, glittering wedding at St. George's.
Grand, grand, grand. The life of the
beautiful Ramsays was the envy of everyone.
But Lady Ramsay, now slightly less young and
much less naïve, would gladly sell all that grandness for a
farthing. She would give it all away to go back to that
sunny day in Hyde Park, her shoulder pressed close to
Hayden's as they sat together in his curricle and laughed.
As they held hands secretly under the cover of her parasol.
On that day the world seemed to stretch before her in
glorious, golden promise. That day seemed to promise
everything she had dreamed of—love, security, a place
to belong, someone who needed her.
If only they could start again there and
move forward in a whole different way. But sadly that was
impossible. Life would simply go on again as it had done
already, because they were the Ramsays and that was the way
of their world.
But she was heartily sick of this world of
theirs. She had expected that Hayden's title would give
them security in the world, a security she never had with
her own family, but she had been naïve. She hadn't realized
how a title took over everything else, became everything.
That a title gathered empty friends, empty marriages.
Jane let the paper fall to the floor beside
her bed and she slid back down amid the heaps of pillows.
It was surely very late at night by now. Her maid had tried
to close the satin draperies at the windows, but Jane
wouldn't let her. She liked seeing the darkness outside, it
felt safe and comforting, like a thick blanket wrapped
around her. The moon, a silvery sliver sliding toward the
horizon, blinked at her.
Out there beyond her quiet chamber there
were balls still twirling on with music and dancing and
wine, laughter and conversation. Once she would have been
in the very midst of one of those balls, laughing and
dancing with the rest or gaily losing in the card room. Now
the thought of it made her feel faintly ill.
She rolled onto her side to face the
crackling blaze in the marble fireplace, and her gaze fell
on the bottle of laudanum the doctor left for her. It would
take away all the memories, draw her off to a
dream–land, but she didn't want that either. She had
to think now, to face the truth no matter how painful it was.
She pressed her hand to her stomach,
perfectly flat again beneath her linen nightdress. The tiny
bump that had been growing there, filling her with such joy,
was gone. It had been gone for days now, vanished as if it
had never been. Lost in a flurry of agonizing
spasms—and Hayden was not with her. Again. When she
lost their child, the third child she lost so early, he was
off gambling somewhere. And drinking, of course. Always
drinking. Now there was only that hollow ache to remind
her. She had failed in her duty. Again.
She couldn't go on like this any longer.
She was cracking under the pressure of their grand lie. She
had thought she was getting a new family with Hayden, yet
she felt lonelier than she ever had before.
Suddenly she heard a sound from downstairs,
a crash and a muffled voice. It was explosively loud in the
silent house, for she had sent the servants to bed hours
ago. Hayden wasn't expected back until dawn.
But it seemed he had come home early. Jane
carefully climbed out of her bed and reached for a shawl to
wrap around her shoulders. She slowly made her way out to
the staircase landing and peered down to the hall below.
Hayden sat sprawled on the lower steps, the
light of the lamp the butler had left on the pier table
flickering over him. He had knocked over the umbrella
stand, and parasols and walking sticks lay scattered over
the black and white tiles of the floor.
Hayden studied them with a strangely sad
look on his handsome face. The pattern of shadows and light
carved his starkly elegant features into something
mysterious, and for a moment he almost looked like the man
she had married with such hope. Could it be possible he was
as weary of this frantic life as she was? That they could
somehow start again? Despite her cold disillusionment, she
still dared to hope. Still dared to be foolish.
Jane took a step down the stairs, and at the
creak of the wooden tread Hayden looked up at her. For an
instant she saw the stark look on his face, but then he
grinned and the brief moment of reflection and hope was gone.
He pushed back a lock of his tousled black
hair and held out his hand to her. The signet ring on his
finger gleamed and she saw the brandy stain on his sleeve.
"Jane! My beautiful wife waits to greet me, how amazing."
As Jane moved slowly down the stairs, she
could smell the sweet–acrid scent of the brandy
hovering around him like a cloud. "I couldn't sleep," she
said. She hadn't been able to sleep for days and days.
"You should have come with me to the Westin
rout, then," he said. "It was quite the crush."
Jane gently smoothed back his hair and
cupped her palm over his cheek. The faint roughness of his
evening whiskers tickled her skin, and the sky–blue of
his eyes glowed in the shadows.
How very handsome he was, her husband. How
her heart ached just to look at him. Once he had been
everything she ever wanted.
"So I see," she said.
"Everyone asked about you there," he
answered. He turned his head to press a quick, careless
kiss into her palm. "You're missed by our friends."
"Friends?" she murmured doubtfully. She
barely knew the Westins, or anyone who had been there
tonight. And they did not know her, not really. She always
felt shy and uncomfortable at grand balls, another way she
failed at being a countess. "I don't feel like parties yet."
"Well, I hope you will very soon. The
Season is still young and we have a brace of invitations to
respond to." He kissed her hand again, but Jane had the
distinct sense he didn't even feel her, see her. "I hate it
when you're ill, darling."
Feeling a tiny spark of hope, Jane caught
his hands in hers and said, "Maybe we need a little holiday,
a few weeks in the country with just us. I'm sure I would
feel better in the fresh air. We could take my sister Emma
from school to come see us. It's been so long since I was
with Emma."
As she thought about it she grew more
excited. Yes, she was sure a holiday would be a wonderful
thing. A time in the country at Barton Park, just the three
of them, no parties, no brandy. She and Hayden could talk
again, as they used to, and be together—maybe make a
new baby. Try one more time, despite her fears. They could
leave the grand Ramsays behind, and just be Hayden and Jane.
That was what she had once hoped for so much.
But Hayden laughed at her words, as if she
had just made some great joke. He let go of her hands and
sprawled back onto the steps. "Go off to the country now?
Jane darling, it's the very midst of the Season. We can't
possibly leave now."
"But it could be..."
Hayden shook his head. "Staying in London
would do you more good than burying yourself in the country.
You should go to parties with me again, enjoy yourself.
Everyone expects it of you, of us."
"Go to parties as you do?" Jane said
bitterly as her faint, desperate hope faded away. Nothing
had changed. Nothing would change.
"Yes, as I do. As my parents always did,"
he said. "It's better than wallowing in misery alone at home."
Jane wrapped her arms around herself,
feeling suddenly hollow and empty. Cold. "I am tired.
Perhaps I will go away by myself to visit my sister. Poor
Emma writes that she doesn't like her school, and I miss
her. I just need some time away from London. I want to go
home to Barton Park for a while."
Hayden closed his eyes as if he was weary of
her and this conversation. Weary of her emotions. "If you
like, of course. You will have to return before our
end–of–Season ball, though. Everyone expects that."
Jane nodded, but she already knew she would
not be back for any ball. She couldn't return to this life
at all. She needed to find her own soul again, even if she
couldn't make Hayden see that he needed to save his.
He gave a faint snore, and Jane looked down
to find that he had drifted to sleep right there on the
stairs, in the middle of their conversation. His face
looked so beautiful and peaceful, a faint smile on his lips
as if he had already floated out of her life and into the
one he had chosen for himself long before he met her. She
leaned down and softly kissed his cheek and smoothed back
his hair one last time.
"I'm sorry, Hayden," she whispered.
"Forgive me."
She rose to her feet and stepped over him,
going back to her chamber and closing the door quietly
behind her. It didn't even make a sound in the vast house
that had never really been hers.
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