Read The Desperate Love of a Lord Online
Authors: Jane Lark
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Regency, #General
The Desperate Love of a Lord
The Desperate Love of a Lord
A Free Historical Romance Novella
JANE LARK
A division of HarperCollins
Publishers
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollins
Publishers
Ltd
77–85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014
Copyright © Jane Lark 2014
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Jane Lark asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
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the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access
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No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
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stored in or introduced into any information storage and
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whether electronic or mechanical, now known or
hereinafter invented, without the express
written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © October 2014
ISBN: 9780008115876
Version 2014-10-03
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
“Jane Lark has an incredible talent to draw the reader in from the first page onwards.”
Cosmochicklitan Book Reviews
"Any description that I give you would not only spoil the story but could not give this book a tenth of the justice that it deserves. Wonderful!"
Candy Coated Book Blog
"This book held me captive after the first 2 pages. If I could crawl inside and live in there with the characters I would."
A Reading Nurse Blogspot
“The book swings from truly swoon-worthy, tense and heart wrenching, highly erotic and everything else in between.”
BestChickLit.com
“I love Ms. Lark's style—beautifully descriptive, emotional and can I say, just plain delicious reading? This is the kind of mixer upper I've been looking for in romance lately.”
Devastating Reads BlogSpot
Contents
Bonus MaterialThe Passionate Love of a RakeChapter One
“Jane Lark has an incredible talent to draw the reader in from the first page onwards.”
Cosmochicklitan Book Reviews
"Any description that I give you would not only spoil the story but could not give this book a tenth of the justice that it deserves. Wonderful!"
Candy Coated Book Blog
"This book held me captive after the first 2 pages. If I could crawl inside and live in there with the characters I would."
A Reading Nurse Blogspot
“The book swings from truly swoon-worthy, tense and heart wrenching, highly erotic and everything else in between.”
BestChickLit.com
“I love Ms. Lark's style—beautifully descriptive, emotional and can I say, just plain delicious reading? This is the kind of mixer upper I've been looking for in romance lately.”
Devastating Reads BlogSpot
Looking from the window of the dingy hotel room, Lady Violet Rimes gathered her courage. She knew what the physician was about to say. She could not quite believe she had trapped herself in this dreadful muddle. She was a grown woman, a widow who knew the way of the world and she had always been cautious before, but this time…
“I presume, Ma’am, you know you are with child?”
“How far gone? When is it due?” Her bleeding had stopped weeks ago, though she’d pretended it was not happening. She had spent the last weeks half hoping it was true and half wishing it were not.
“I would think February, Ma’am.”
February? It was already October.
The physician hesitated. “I know of… If you… There is a woman who can help with such things –”
“No.” She wanted the child. She had wanted a child by her husband. But none had come. Since then unless she’d married again, caution was the only choice. She’d avoided conception as best she could. But now fate had made her choice she was neither going to give up the child or allow it to be condemned by scandal. She would keep the child. It was her life which must change.
“No, thank you. I will manage.” She faced him, the heat of a blush creeping over hers skin as she remembered how he’d examined her alone in this room, moments before. He’d left her to straighten her clothing and then returned to share his judgement. He must have surmised she had no husband, and her voice probably labelled her as wealthy, even though she’d taken a dress from her maid’s closet, to help hide the fact.
This whole thing made her feel sordid and guilty. She’d been hiding her condition from the world for weeks and now she was hiding herself.
Violet’s heart raced as she looked at the doctor as though he could provide an alternative answer, but she must find her own answer. She felt cold inside, in her stomach and in her limbs, but yet her heart was warm, with longing.
I am with child
.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. How could she be a mother? “Thank you, Dr Rivers, but, no,” she said with more control, “I do not wish for any help, not in that way. I will have the child. Is it healthy?”
“Everything seems well –”
“Thank you,” she said again, picking up her reticule.
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.