The Captain's Impossible Match

By Laura Martin

Ready to marry for duty

Until his old love returns…

Running into old friend Lady Emma Westcombe at a London ball is pure delight for Captain Guy Fitzgerald—and pure torture! He’s carried a flame for her for years. But Guy is duty-bound to marry well to save his family from destitution, and a bride has already been selected… He has one week to spend with Emma before he must propose to someone else. But will it ever be enough?

From Harlequin Historical: Your romantic escape to the past.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Harlequin Historical
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9780369711403

Laura Martin

Born and bred on the South Coast of England into a family of two loving parents and a spirited older sister, books were a feature of Laura's life from early on. One of her earliest memories involves sitting with the family on a rainy Sunday afternoon listening to the exploits of a clumsy but lovable stuffed bear and his assorted cuddly friends. Laura's first ambition was to be a doctor, and in 2006 she went off to Guy's, King's and St Thomas' Medical school in London to study medicine. It was whilst she was earning her degree she discovered her love of writing. In between ward rounds and lectures Laura would scribble down ideas to work on later that evening and dream of being an author. In 2012 Laura married her high school sweetheart and together they settled down in Cambridgeshire. It was around this time Laura started focussing on the Romance genre, and found what she had always suspected to be true: she was a romantic at heart. Laura now spends her time writing Historical Romances when not working as a doctor.In her spare time Laura loves to lose herself in a book and has been known to read from cover to cover in a day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel with her husband, especially enjoying visiting historical sites and far flung shores

Book preview

Chapter One

‘Isn’t this the most magnificent sight you’ve ever seen?’ Emma gushed as she spun around, taking everything in.

‘Oh, yes. Forget the sight of an oasis in the desert or a long-lost Egyptian temple, an English ballroom is so much more impressive.’

Emma laughed. ‘You have to admit, Cece, it is marvellous.’

Looking around with one eyebrow ever so slightly raised, Cecilia gave a non-committal shrug. ‘It’s just a ball, like hundreds of others.’

‘Ah, hundreds of others for you. This is my first real English ball and I am enchanted.’

For a moment the two women stood arm in arm, admiring the candlelight glittering off the glass of the chandelier above their heads, enjoying the swell of the music and the swish of fabric as the couples danced in the middle of the ballroom. There was a buzz of excitement in the air, the sense that this was the start of something wonderful.

‘Are all balls like this or is it special because it is the first of the Season?’

‘You speak as though I am an expert. I haven’t socialised in England for over ten years, Emma. Everything has changed.’

For an instant Emma saw the glimmer of sadness in Cecilia’s eyes and gave her arm a quick squeeze.

‘I’m glad you made the trip with me,’ Emma said. It was comforting to have her friend at her side as she navigated a new world. At twenty-two she was older than most of the debutantes, the young women who were giving her curious looks across the ballroom. She didn’t know what the latest fashions were, or how best to wear her hair, but with Cecilia as her companion, together they would find their way in this exciting new world.

Their hostess, Lady Thorne, walked over gracefully, a full skirt trailing behind her. ‘Lady Emma, I’m so glad to see you this evening. I hope you don’t mind my saying, but for a moment I thought it was your mother standing there.’ She took Emma by the hand and studied her, nodding in satisfaction. ‘You look exactly like Clara at her debut, the same beautiful brown eyes, the same smile of wonder on your lips.’

‘Thank you for inviting me, Lady Thorne. I can’t tell you how nervous I was. It was such a relief that the first ball I was invited to was yours.’

‘It is nerve-racking, isn’t it? Although you have nothing to be afraid of, my dear. Already I can tell you will be a success.’

‘May I introduce my dear friend, Mrs Cecilia Willow?’

‘A pleasure, Mrs Willow.’ The two older women murmured pleasantries to each other before Lady Thorne took her leave to circulate among the other guests at the party.

Emma could feel eyes on her, furtive glances from the younger debutantes, curious stares from their mothers, even some of the gentlemen seemed to be intrigued by her.

‘You must remember, my dear, you are new and that means you are interesting,’ Cecilia said as Emma gazed around the ballroom.

‘You’re saying I’m not normally interesting?’ she teased.

‘Of course not, cheeky minx, but these people see a pretty young woman in fine clothes and they want to know who you are and where you have been hiding the last few years.’

‘Perhaps I should go and introduce myself to some of them,’ she said, taking a step forward. Cecilia laid a cautionary hand on her arm.

‘Patience, my dear. They will come to you. Wait to be introduced, it is the way of things.’

Emma scrunched up her nose. Patience wasn’t her strongest characteristic. She was impulsive, enthusiastic, but not patient.

‘Can you introduce me to people?’

‘It’s been years, Emma, and I was always on the fringes of this sort of high society. I married Mr Willow very young and we mainly lived in the country. I recognise a few of the older women from the time I spent in London after Mr Willow passed away, but for the life of me I can’t remember their names.’

‘Well, if I can’t go talk to people and I can’t dance until someone asks me, can I at least keep myself occupied at the refreshment table?’

‘A young lady does not stuff her face at balls.’

‘Who said anything about stuffing my face?’

‘You forget how well I know you, Emma.’

‘The pastries do look incredible...’

Cecilia sighed, but a smile was tugging at the corner of her lips. ‘Just do it gracefully.’

Emma squeezed her friend’s arm, then wove her way through the crowds, picking up a glass of lemonade before perusing the pastries.

‘I should have known I’d find you here,’ a deep, familiar voice came from behind her.

Emma dropped the pastry she had selected and turned round, unable to keep the huge grin from her face.

‘Guy!’ she shouted, knowing immediately she was being too loud, too excited but unable to help herself. After she had spent so many months travelling with just Cecilia for company, it felt wonderful to see another friendly face. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into an embrace.

She felt him stiffen in her arms. Normally he would have picked her up and spun her round, but instead he placed a careful hand on her waist and pushed her gently away from him.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing, Emma,’ he muttered. ‘We can’t be like that here. Look, everyone is watching us.’

She let her eyes move across the ballroom to find the groups of guests staring in their direction.

‘Why are they watching us?’

‘Oh, Emma.’

‘What?’

‘For a woman of the world you can be naïve.’

She frowned. ‘Don’t call me naïve, just because they have all these rules and customs that are unfathomable to the uninitiated. Really, why can’t I greet my closest friend in the manner I choose?’

‘It’s not done. Do it again and there will be a scandal.’

‘And then you’d be forced to marry me? To save my reputation?’

‘I’ve never known you need saving from anything, Em.’

They were standing a respectable four feet apart now and Emma wanted to reach out and draw her friend towards her. She hadn’t realised quite how unsettled and nervous she had been feeling. It seemed silly to be scared of making her first steps into society—in reality, it was only talking and dancing, both things she excelled at—but here she was scared all the same. Guy was familiar, comforting, in a world where everything else was new.

‘Can I at least take your arm?’

‘As long as you promise not to pounce on me.’

‘It was hardly a pounce.’

‘It felt like a pounce. Looked like a pounce, too. And, by the disapproving looks Lady Reddington is giving us, I’d say she thinks it was a pounce.’

Emma glanced over her shoulder and frowned. ‘No one is even looking any more,’

Guy smiled.

‘Is there even a Lady Reddington here?’

‘Who knows? I find it impossible to keep track of all the titles and names. I’ve been introduced to so many people in recent months I think I stopped listening to names after the first fifty or so.’

Taking Guy’s arm, Emma felt herself relax properly for the first time since she’d arrived in London a week ago. Guy had been visiting his family in the country and as such hadn’t been able to call on her this past week, while Emma had longed for his company. The city was foreign to her, completely unfamiliar. She had left England with her father when she was four and never once visited since. The few memories she had of England were of their country estate, vast grounds and gardens to play in. She was sure she had been to London before, but it didn’t feature in any of her memories.

‘Is it really eighteen months since I last saw you?’

Guy nodded, the smile slipping from his face for a second. ‘Yes, I left Luxor in April last year. I took the overland route through Europe and arrived here ten months ago.’ He stopped for a moment and looked at her. ‘I was very sorry to hear about your father, Emma. He was a good man and I will miss him very much.’

She swallowed back the tears that still threatened to fall whenever she allowed herself to acknowledge that she would never see her father again, never see his eyes light up as he spoke about his travels, never sit with him as he told her stories of her mother. Her father had been far from perfect, but she had loved him more than any other man.

‘How are you coping?’

‘Cecilia keeps me strong and I think a new city to explore will keep my mind busy.’

‘Yes, although sorrow has a way of burrowing in deep. Remember to let it out sometimes.’

‘I will.’

Guy paused as the musicians struck up the first notes of a new piece of music and the couples started to assemble on the dance floor.

‘Would you care to dance?’

‘I thought you would never ask.’

He led her over to the dance floor and Emma felt her heart begin to pound in her chest as they joined the other couples. She had learned the dances as a young girl, twirled across the veranda overlooking the Nile in Cecilia’s arms thousands of times, but never before had she danced with a real partner in a real ballroom. It felt right somehow that the partner should be Guy.

‘It’s a waltz.’

‘The king of dances.’

‘Why do you think that?’

He smiled a seductive smile at her and then ruined it by raising an eyebrow in a comedic manner. ‘It is one of the only dances where you get to hold your partner close for the whole dance. No stopping or hopping or changing places. Just you and your partner in one another’s arms.’

The music swelled and Guy swept her round on the first turn and, as they spun together, Emma felt her heart soar. This was what she had travelled all this way for. For years she’d pored over her mother’s diaries from when she was a debutante, getting lost in the descriptions of the balls and the suitors. She had dreamed of promenading through Hyde Park, of waltzing through ballrooms and discussing the little intrigues of society in muted tones with a close friend. All the experiences her mother had detailed in her diary she wanted for herself.

‘You’re smiling.’

‘Is there something wrong with smiling?’

‘No. I’d forgotten how much I liked your smile, that’s all.’

Emma squeezed Guy’s hand and felt some of the nerves begin to settle. She wasn’t alone in this endeavour to conquer London society and enjoy a Season. She had Cecilia, always constant, and now she had Guy.

---

The dance had finished far too quickly, as did the next in the set, and as that one ended she threw her arms around Guy’s neck and embraced him. It was nothing, a gesture of friendship, one she had performed hundreds of times back in Egypt, but as she felt Guy’s body freeze under her touch she immediately knew she had overstepped again.

Quickly Guy pulled away and, with a blank expression, escorted her over to where Cecilia was standing at the edge of the ballroom.

‘I need to go,’ he said, his bearing more upright than ever. ‘Stay here and act normal. Perhaps we will get away with this.’

‘Guy...’ Emma whispered, biting her lip.

She watched him, hoping he would give her one of his customary winks, even just the hint of a smile, anything to show that he was doing this for the audience that was surely watching, but there was nothing, only Guy’s retreating form.

‘Was it that bad?’ she murmured to Cecilia.

‘You threw your arms around a man’s neck in front of everyone, Emma. Most women don’t even get that close to their husbands.’

She groaned quietly and closed her eyes. ‘For a moment I forgot where I was.’

Cecilia patted her on the hand and gave a stiff smile. ‘Come, let’s see if we can find you some nice, boring men to ask you to dance who you won’t feel the need to embrace. Hopefully something more scandalous will happen before the evening is out and everyone will forget about you.’

---

Stealthily Guy slipped out of the ballroom and inhaled the cool autumn air. It was stifling inside and his head was pounding. He needed just a few minutes without having to be on his guard the whole time, without smiling and making inane small talk with women he had absolutely no interest in or men who wanted to hear all about his military career.

He walked quickly past the couples in the shadows, head bent, not wanting to see anything he shouldn’t, and went down the stone steps into the little garden. He was drawn to a trickling sound and meandered through the flower beds until he came to a little fountain channelling water into a sunken pond.

It had been a shock to see Emma again, even though he knew she would be here. If he was honest, the only reason he was here tonight was to see her. Eighteen months since he’d last set eyes upon her. Eighteen months of convincing himself he felt purely friendship for the woman he’d known for so long. There had been so many miles between them, so much time, that he’d almost believed his own lies, then one look, one touch, and he was back to thinking of her in a way he really shouldn’t.

‘Guy.’

He spun, so surprised he almost tripped over the stone surround of the pond, but his quick reflexes meant he was able to right himself before taking a tumble into the dark water.

‘You can’t be out here, Emma.’

‘I couldn’t bear to think you were annoyed with me.’

‘I’m not annoyed with you.’

‘But you left so quickly.’

He couldn’t help but smile. He’d seen Emma barter with the wiliest market-trader in Cairo and calmly back away from an approaching crocodile. In many ways she was more worldly-wise than the other young women crowded in the ballroom, but society in Egypt had been a very different affair. Emma and her father had often entertained, but it had been informal, a collection of people who had made Luxor their home, not shackled by the normal constraints of society. Here she was floundering.

‘Do you want to be forced to marry me, Emma?’

The horrified look on her face should have hurt, but Guy found himself laughing.

‘That is what could happen if we are over-familiar with each other in company. Everyone will gossip and the only way to save your reputation will be to marry quickly.’

‘All I did was hug you,’ she grumbled, coming over and sitting on the wall around the sunken pond. He hesitated and then sat with her. If they were caught alone outside together there would be no saving things, but she clearly needed a little buoying up.

‘The rules are ridiculous,’ he said slowly. ‘But they are there to protect you. You haven’t completely rejected the idea of marrying one day? Of having a husband and a family?’

She gave a little shrug.

‘Reputation is what matters more than anything for a young lady wanting to marry. You should guard yours carefully...’ He paused, then pushed on, knowing he wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t issue a warning and then something happened. ‘Some gentlemen are unscrupulous, Emma. They would take advantage of you. Entice you outside for a walk in the dark and then force a proximity that you didn’t want.’

For a moment Emma remained silent, then he felt her shuffle closer.

‘I’m glad you’re here, Guy. I’ve missed you.’

‘I’ve missed you, too.’

‘Tell me about your travels through Europe.’

He settled back on to the stone wall and allowed himself to relax a little. He hadn’t wanted to leave Egypt, hadn’t wanted to return to England, but duty called. The trip, however, had done a little to compensate for the move.

‘I thought I had seen some of Europe during the war, but snatched glances of ports from the deck of a ship, or muddy marches through the countryside, didn’t prepare me for how much I would love it.’

‘Did you sail to Greece?’

‘Yes, stopping off on a few idyllic islands. Then from Athens I went north and hopped on a boat to Italy.’

‘I begged Cecilia to go that way, to see the Acropolis in Athens and the ruins of Rome, but she said overland was no way for two women to travel unaccompanied.’

Guy could imagine the face Emma was pulling in the darkness.

‘I spent a few days in Venice. I rented an apartment in an old palazzo and I almost didn’t leave. Then it was Switzerland and Germany and the Netherlands. You should have seen the mountains, Em, the ranges stretch out for as far as the eye can see, mountain after mountain covered in ice and snow, the tops in the clouds.’

‘Maybe one day,’ she said and then sighed. ‘But first I am determined to conquer London.’

‘I have no doubts that you will.’

She was about to speak when he held up a hand in front of her lips and motioned for her to be quiet. In the darkness he had forgotten how risky this innocent little conversation was and now cursed himself for not insisting she return to the ballroom immediately when she followed him out.

The sound of footsteps was accompanied by the rustling of material and a lady’s low laugh piercing through the air.

‘We need to get you back,’ Guy whispered and Emma nodded silently. Quietly they slipped from the wall and started to hurry through the garden, stopping suddenly as they almost ran into another couple.

‘Fitzgerald,’ the man said, peering round him at Emma.

‘Gilby.’

‘Perhaps we can keep this to ourselves,’ Gilby said, a faint look of panic on his face.

Guy inclined his head and then hurried Emma away.

‘Will they say anything?’ Emma asked, concern on her face. At least she was fast learning the dangers of scandal.

‘No. Gilby is married and that was not his wife. They have as much reason as we do to want to keep quiet.’

They reached the steps to the veranda and Guy paused, taking Emma’s hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘Walk calmly on to the veranda and go back into the ballroom, find Cecilia and stick with her. I will slip in discreetly in a few minutes.’

‘Will I see you again tonight?’

‘Best not, Emma, but perhaps we can see each other tomorrow.’

She leaned in ever so slightly and he had to resist the urge to embrace her, then she was gone, walking calmly up the steps as he had instructed her to.

Chapter Two

Emma tried not to lean out of the carriage window and stare in wonder at the buildings and people as they travelled through the streets. She had been in London for a week and still she couldn’t get used to how different it was from anywhere else she had been. Their house in Luxor had been large and sprawling, but set over one single level, as were many of the dwellings in Egypt. Some had an upper floor, but none were like these tall stone or brick buildings that dominated the capital.

Pulling her shawl around her shoulders, she settled back in her seat, allowing herself a small sigh of satisfaction. It had been wonderful to see Guy again. She’d missed him when he had left Egypt and had waited eagerly for the letters he had written detailing his journey through Europe. Then her father had died and grief had almost consumed her. Emma knew she would mourn her father for a long time, perhaps for her whole life, but seeing Guy had lifted her spirits more than she could have hoped. He made London feel as though it could be her home.

‘I have a little shopping I need to do. Do you want me to accompany you or shall I meet you afterwards?’ Cecilia asked as the carriage slowed outside the British Museum.

‘Do your shopping. Guy has arranged for a curator to show us the collections so it isn’t as though I will be unchaperoned.’ Emma managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the idea she couldn’t be trusted to walk around a museum with a friend because he was male. At home she had often gone for a stroll with Guy or taken tea overlooking the Nile, but it seemed here in England that wasn’t the way things were done.

Guy was waiting outside Montagu House, leaning against the railings, and Emma felt herself smile as she caught sight of him. He stepped forward as the carriage slowed and opened the door to help first her and then Cecilia down.

He smiled as he saw them both huddled up in their shawls. ‘Not used to the English weather yet?’

‘It’s freezing.’ It was late October, most of the leaves had dropped from the trees and the days were getting shorter, but Emma was well aware that it could only get colder as they headed for winter. She would need to invest in some warm winter clothes this year as her body adjusted to a cooler climate.

‘I was thinking what a glorious balmy day it is.’

Emma gave him a withering look, but he just smiled infuriatingly back at her.

‘I shall leave you to enjoy the museum. Emma tells me you do not need a chaperon.’

‘No, one of the curators, Mr Paxton, has agreed to show us