The Desperate Love of a Lord: A Free Novella. Jane Lark

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Название The Desperate Love of a Lord: A Free Novella
Автор произведения Jane Lark
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isbn 9780008115876



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      After she’d paid him, he left.

      Her fingers shook as she tied the ribbons of her bonnet. Oh how ridiculous. She was known for her confidence. Her gaze spun about the inn room she’d hired. She had thought it better to see the physician on neutral ground, so no one could see her enter his offices, nor see him enter her home. But it only made the whole thing seem sordid, but why should she feel ashamed. She was glad, warmth seeped from her heart into her limbs as an ache stretching from her middle into her breast.

       I am with child.

      As she left the room, closing the door behind her, she thought of her friend Jane, and longed for her company. Jane had only recently left London, and yesterday Violet had seen an announcement in the paper advising Jane had married again. She’d married the man who had been chasing her all summer. Violet imagined Jane happy. But the picture of Jane’s happiness only made envy twist like the pain of a cruel dagger in Violet’s stomach. She’d never expected to marry again. But what would she do now?

      Go away. She had to. She was already showing. Options spun in a whorl in her head. She must leave London. Go somewhere no one knew her and not come back. She must live there and begin a new life.

      Geoff. His hazel eyes, glittering at her with laughter, appeared in her mind’s eye. At least he had not noticed how rotund her figure had become. He should have noticed. She had noticed. But perhaps he had not dared to comment.

      She stepped from the bottom step of the stairs within the inn, and deliberately did not look left or right, fearing she might see someone she knew. Instead she crossed the entrance hall in a hurry and went out into the street. It was very wrong to be walking alone without a maid, but then she was dressed as a servant, and the poke bonnet hid her face.

      Her heart cried out for the man who usually walked with her. Geoff.

      She was going to miss him. She loved him. A tight knot tied in her stomach, and a clenching feeling gripped about her heart.

      She hurried along the street, unsure whether it was best to merely walk home or try and stop a hackney carriage. Which would encourage more outrage if she was seen entering her house? She would walk, she needed the exercise to absorb her restless thoughts, and perhaps by the time she reached home, some inspiration would have come and she’d know what on earth to do.

      When she crossed the street, Geoff’s smile came to mind. She missed the solidity of his arm to grip.

      Male company, within a bed and without, had been her obsession for the last few years. She’d slept with numerous men since her husband had passed. So many she’d lost count. But Lord Geoffrey Sparks had become far more than pleasure. He was necessity. Yet she had to leave him behind now. For their child’s sake. He would not wish a woman like her as his wife. He was a third son and she was seven years his senior, though he thought her only three. What they’d had, had been merely entertainment to him too. She knew how offspring of liaisons like theirs were managed. He would expect her to hand the child to some poor woman to foster. Well, Violet would have none of that. He would not even know of the child.

      If only she had not been fool enough to fall in love.

      ~

      Lord Geoffrey Sparks dropped the door knocker thrice more. It hit the brass plaque with a heavy ring.

      Bloody hell. Why was her butler not answering?

      “Violet!” he shouted through the door, hoping no one else in the street was awake. Damnation. Why was she shutting him out all of a sudden? He had not seen her for three nights, and he’d done the rounds of every damned venue.

      She had not been out.

      He’d called one afternoon too, to be told she was not at home.

      He rapped the knocker again.

      It might be two in the morning but he was not going until he’d spoken to her. “Violet!”

      He’d sent her four messages and received no reply.

      Why the hell had she gone cold on him? They’d been thick for weeks. He’d slept here most nights for the last four.

      He hammered the knocker once more. “Violet!”

      He’d probably had too much to drink, but it was the brandy which had given him the courage to come and make a spectacle of himself. He felt like such a bloody fool, falling for her so heavily if she had just been playing games.

      But he hadn’t thought she was playing games. They’d grown comfortable. He’d thought a true companionship had developed between them. She’d trusted him more and more in the last weeks, leaning on him for support when her closest friend had gone missing a couple of weeks ago.

      For Heaven’s sake, she had accused Barrington, whom her friend, Jane, had just married, of being a threat to Jane, of potentially breaking her heart, and now Violet was breaking his.

      Why would she suddenly throw him off like this? Was there someone else?

      In the past he knew she’d flitted between men. He’d shared a few casual liaisons with her over the year before they’d stepped into the new territory of a proper affair.

      He’d been one of many then, and it hadn’t bothered him, but once he’d got to know her better, he’d wanted to keep her for himself. They’d spent hours and hours together over the summer and he’d swear she’d been with no one else.

      So why now? Why had it changed?

      “Selford! Violet! I am not going away, so open the bloody door!” He thrust the knocker against the wood again, yelling to her butler.

      Finally, he heard movement inside, and a moment later there was the scrape of bolts and locks shifting.

      He held his breath, his right hand slipping from the knocker and closing into a fist.

      What would he say when he saw her? What would he do? Cry? Plead? Is that what this woman had brought him to?

      God, Barrington would laugh his head off when he learned of this. While Barrington had found happiness, Geoff had been discarded.

      It was pitiful.

      He gritted his teeth as the door opened and then he faced Selford, who held the door open only a few inches and looked through the gap. “Lady Rimes is not at home, sir”

      Was she not, or was she in bed with someone?

      Geoff pushed the door wider and forced the man back as he stepped in.

      Shock petrified Selford’s face for a moment as he lifted a hand to warn Geoffrey back. “My Lord.”

      “Is she upstairs?” The hall span a little, Geoffrey had definitely had too much to drink.

      “No, sir, Lady Rimes has left town.”

      “Left town, do you think me a fool, Selford? The knocker is still in place!” He thrust his arm out to indicate the open door behind him. It would have been removed if she’d left.

      “Because Lady Rimes wished it so, sir, she wished no one to note her absence.”

      A frown furrowed Geoff’s brow. That did not make sense.

      He moved then, walking past Selford, convinced she was hiding upstairs.

      Perhaps she was with another man.

      Geoff raced upstairs as the butler called him back, and then ran along the hall, taking-in nothing but the fact he had to find her.

      He burst into her rooms, thrusting the door aside. The curtains were open, he’d been so angry he hadn’t even noticed from outside.

      He strode through the sitting room, calling, “Violet! Violet!” expecting her to answer even though it was obvious she was not there.

      “Violet,” he said again as he entered her bedchamber.

      The