Earl In Trouble: Bluestockings Defying Rogues, #4

By Dawn Brower

Lucas Carter, the Earl of Darcy is jaded, and doesn't believe in love. His father wants him to marry and it's the last thing he desires. He finds himself in a predicament he's unable to extricate himself from, and decides to hide from his problems. 

In his travels he crosses paths with the woman who broke his heart and ruined him for love. Forgiveness seems impossible, but as they spend more time together he wonders if perhaps his fate is unavoidable, because she might just be the answer to his all his troubles. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monarchal Glenn Press
• Release date: Feb 26, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386275282

Book preview

Chapter 1

September 1823

Lucas Carter, the Earl of Darcy, lounged on a chair in the game room at Weston Manor. The current Duke of Weston, James Kendall, was lining up a shot on the billiard’s table as his good friend, Dominic Rossington, the Marquess of Seabrook, gave him pointers. You’re going to miss if you keep it at that angle, Seabrook advised. I’d move it a little to the left.

The duke stood to his full height and stared at the marquess through a narrow gaze. I don’t need your bloody drivel breaking my concentration. Keep your opinions to yourself. A strand of his dark hair fell over his cerulean blue eyes. He reached up and brushed it away, then returned his attention to the game.

Lucas sighed and held his glass of brandy against his eye. The Earl of Shelby, Gregory Cain, had landed several blows to his face earlier in a scuffle over Shelby’s sister, Lady Samantha Cain. She was a lovely lady, and Lucas had thought she might make a wonderful countess for him. His father was being a trite arse lately and kept insisting he settle down. He had tried to explain that marriage didn’t mix well with him.

At one time it had…

An image of the woman he’d fallen instantly in love with almost a decade ago floated through his mind—Lia… She had soft brown hair highlighted by streaks of gold and red. Her eyes were a brilliant green like an emerald shining in sunlight. He’d never met anyone as lovely as her. They had merely hours together, but it had been enough for him to want to spend the rest of his days with her. She’d been lovely and sweet. At least that was how she’d seemed. Not long after they met, she’d run away, and he hadn’t seen her since. Thoughts of her crept up on him when he least expected it. If she’d stayed…

He shook that away. There was no going back to that fateful winter night, and he had to accept she would never be his. He had no idea where she had gone and had long ago stopped caring. He’d done his due diligence and searched for her—for a couple of years, and then had to face facts. Lia didn’t want to be found, and she most certainly didn’t want him. It didn’t help he only had a first name and a description to go by. For all he knew, she was using a different name entirely.

Lia had made it clear she was hiding from an arranged marriage. He didn’t blame her either. If he didn’t chose a bride soon his father would pick one for him. Lucas wanted to at least like the woman he had to spend his life with—hence his current dilemma and bruised face. He’d taken refuge with the marquess and the duke because Shelby had gone off with Asthey and Harrington to do God only knew what. He honestly didn’t care as long as they all stayed away from him.

Weston took his shot and missed… His cue ball failed to connect with the object ball and then landed in the corner pocket. I tried to tell you… Seabrook held up his hands and backed away. All right, do it your way. I don’t mind winning if you don’t want to listen to sound advice.

Bugger off, Weston ground out. Maybe Darcy would like a round with you. I’m not in the mood to play anymore.

That was the last thing Lucas wanted. If it were up to him he’d be left alone to enjoy the entire decanter of brandy in peace. I’ll pass, he said. His voice was still a little hoarse after Shelby’s attempt to strangle him with his bare hands. The bloody bastard had a temper on him and an unending overprotective streak. Though I will take a refill on my brandy. He wiggled his glass toward Weston. Care to help a bloke out?

The duke grumbled something under his breath about not being a servant but refilled Lucas’s glass anyway. Thanks, he said with a nod at the duke. Much obliged.

Lucas sipped on the amber liquid and tried to forget everything that troubled him, but it all screamed at him inside his head. Lady Samantha would have solved all of his problems. Damn her rotten brother… What did he ever do to Shelby anyway? He thought they got along fairly well. Apparently, Lucas’s judge of a person’s character had gone downhill in the last decade. Ever since he’d met Lia… Why did she continue to haunt him?

Darcy, Seabrook nearly shouted his name.

Wh-What?’ He blinked several times. He had been so lost in his memories of Lia he forgot where he was. Lucas cleared his throat. My apologies. Did you require my attention?"

Seabrook shook his head as if disgusted with Lucas for some odd reason. What had he done now. It seemed like everything he did lately brought him nothing but trouble. Sometimes it seemed as if he was completely alone in the world. He used to do almost everything with his closest friend, the Marquess of Dashville. Sadly, Dash had gone and married Lucas’s sister and settled down. These days Dash was happy to be a husband and father.

Most of the time Lucas was jealous of what Dash and Helena had together. Their marital bliss could also be nauseating too. He suspected that was because he’d missed his chance at happiness long before Dash had found his. But none of that mattered at the moment. What did was the glare Seabrook had pinned on him. Lucas sighed. I don’t suppose you’re going to answer me anytime soon?

Seabrook shook his head. How hard did Shelby hit you in the head?

Much harder than I’d have liked, I assure you. His fists are like bricks. He brought his hand up to his face and touched the spot beneath his eye. It’s already black and blue, isn’t it?

Don’t worry, Weston said amicably. You’re pretty face will be back before you know it. He gestured toward Seabrook. He suggested we go for a ride. Since billiards isn’t to your tastes. Care to join us?

Lucas stared down at his brandy and then drained the contents in one quick gulp. He would prefer to drink himself into oblivion, but what the hell? Maybe a brisk ride would lift his spirts and deliver him a solution to his current dilemma—he needed a willing bride, and it wouldn’t hurt if she was also pretty, and had a tolerable personality. He didn’t ask for much… I’d be happy to. He came to his feet and set his empty brandy glass on a nearby table. A servant would find it at some point and take care of it. Lead the way, Your Grace. He nodded at Weston. Maybe Seabrook can forgive my maudlin mood after he puts his mount through the paces.

Weston chuckled. Ignore Dom. He’s surly for an entirely different reason that has everything to do with my sister, his loving wife.

Hold your tongue, Seabrook ordered. I’d rather not discuss Rosanna, if you don’t mind. Don’t you worry—we’ll be fine. She does love me. With that last statement, the marquess winked at Weston. Much like your wife often forgives you the blunders you make.

There went that jealousy again. He was surrounded by happily married people, and he was sick of it. Whatever happened to the traditional ton marriage where spouses barely tolerated each other? I thought we were going riding?

Quite right, Seabrook agreed. It’s good to see you’re finally with us. You weren’t looking too healthy a bit ago. Whatever is troubling you, it must be quite serious.

I’d rather not discuss it. Lucas sighed. Family stuff. It was all the explanation he’d give either man. He really hated his father and his autocratic demands. Ever since Helena had married, the bastard had taken all his attention and thrown it at Lucas. He’d been able to sidestep his marriage demands for the past eight years, but now he couldn’t hold the old duke off any longer. The blasted man thought if Lucas didn’t marry and sire a child, then the Montford title would die with him. As far as Lucas was concerned, he didn’t care if it did or not. He didn’t relish the idea of holding the ducal title—even if it meant his father was no longer around to terrorize him.

All right. Seabrook nodded his head. If you change your mind, we’ll be around. He gestured toward Weston. He kind of owns the place.

Lucas laughed. I have heard that rumor.

Very funny, Weston said sarcastically. Everyone wants to try and be a court jester these days. Come on, let’s go to the stable.

Lucas smiled for the first time in days. He was glad he’d made the decision to stay in Dover. Weston Manor had always been like a second home to him, and he’d been good friends with the Kendall twins. Edward had been born first, but died not long after Lucas had met Lia, leaving James with the ducal responsibilities.

He shook his head. In that one thing, he didn’t envy Weston. If he lost his sibling, he wasn’t sure he’d handle it well. Of course, the man had over a decade to be accustomed to the loss. It took time to heal even the worst of wounds…

Either way, it didn’t matter. His sister lived happily with her husband and two children, and was expecting her third. It was Lucas who had to figure out his life and find the answer to all his troubles. Too bad the answer wouldn’t fall in front of him and make things easier.

Natalia Benson stared at the