Lord Weirlane (The Four Lords' Saga Book 2) Read online

  Lord Weirlane­

  Regency Romance Novella

  The Four Lords’ Saga – Book 2

  Third Edition

  By

  Gianna Thomas

  Copyright © 2015 Gianna Thomas

  All Rights Reserved.

  https://www.facebook.com/GiannaThomasAuthor/

  https://www.amazon.com/author/giannathomas

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design

  Cover Design by CranesnestPublishing.com

  Acknowledgements

  As always, my thanks and gratitude go to my editor, #1 Amazon author Kay Springsteen. Even when she nearly yelled at me about echoes (and other things), she has been wonderful in teaching me to be a better author and how to make my writings more interesting. If my books turn out well, it is due to the hard work of this dear colleague.

  And a ‘thank you’ to my wonderful daughter as well. I’m having a blast working with her.

  Table of Contents

  Foreshadow of Things to Come

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Excerpt from Lord Foxdown

  Thank You!

  Other Books by Gianna Thomas

  About the Author

  Foreshadow of Things to Come

  Having been hit in the head with a pistol, Crispin was disoriented, but not unconscious. “Damien told me nothing.”

  Grabbing a fistful of hair and holding the gun to the duke’s head, the man asked him again.

  Catherine had been awaiting Crispin’s return and heard a noise in the hallway. As she headed for the door to investigate, the hairs on the back of her neck rose, and her close connection with her husband caused her to hesitate. Something was wrong. Going into her husband’s bedchamber, she very carefully opened his door to the hall and peeked out. She could see Crispin on the floor holding his head and someone standing over him. Getting one of the duke’s target pistols from the case, she quickly loaded it then sneaked through the door and tiptoed toward both figures.

  Raising the gun, she commanded in a loud voice. “Turn around.”

  The man jumped when she shouted at him and swung to face her with his gun. He couldn’t see what she was carrying but was sure his pistol would deter her. He smiled when he thought she was clad only in a nightgown and decided to ravish her after killing her husband. Then he would kill her as well. Stepping to Crispin’s side, he pointed the pistol at the duke’s head and laughed.

  “Hallo, pretty lady. We meet again.”

  “And where have we met before?”

  “Ah, I am crushed. You do not remember me from the house party?”

  “No, I’m afraid I do not.”

  “‘Tis a shame, my lady, you were never able to sample my charms. I was willing to pay £500 for one night with you.”

  At this boastful comment, Catherine gasped.

  “Yes, my lady, I would have put your husband to shame with my lovemaking, and you would never have gone back to him”

  “I doubt that seriously,” she said with a sneer.

  “Come here and let me show you the difference between your husband and a real man.”

  “No.”

  “I will kill your husband right now if you do not come to me.”

  “All right, but I must warn you, I have a gun in my hand.”

  As Catherine walked toward him, he saw the pistol aimed at him and swung his up to shoot her.

  Chapter I

  Two and a half months earlier

  When Matthew Fremont, Marquess of Windmere, arrived back in London from visiting with his fiancée’s family, the first place he went to, after his own townhouse, was to see his parents and siblings to tell them the news of his engagement. He spent a lovely evening with his family who was delighted with the news of his pending marriage to a neighbor of their country estate by the name of Lady Jane Anne Thornton, daughter of the Earl and Countess of Covington. His sisters liked Janie, and his mother was ecstatic he had found a love match, one like she and his father had enjoyed.

  Now it was time to inform his friends—The Duke of Weirlane, The Marquess of Foxdown, and Earl of Brookton—that he was engaged to be married within the next three months. Arriving at White’s the next day, he walked into the private dining room and found only Foxdown and Brookton were in attendance.

  “Where’s Crisp? I have something I want to tell all three of you.”

  Fox looked up, his eyes troubled. “I’m afraid we have not seen him since before he left for Lady Merry Widow’s house party.”

  “You are unaware if he has returned?”

  Jules answered this time. “I heard he had returned, but we haven’t seen him at White’s yet.”

  “Well, I hope he comes today because I have some good news to tell all three of you at once.”

  Both men now peered more closely at him, then Fox declared, “My God, he’s in love. I knew he shouldn’t have gone to that house party. Lady Stockton is a first-rate matchmaker.”

  Matt scowled and informed them that his hostess had done nothing of the kind.

  “Then, what is your news?” Jules queried with an impatient gesture.

  But Matt never got a chance to answer because Crispin walked in, and the Duke of Weirlane looked like he had lost everything in the world and aged ten years. All three men looked at him with concern, told him to sit, and they ordered him a large brandy before anyone spoke.

  Finally, Jules inquired of his friend, “What happened at the house party?”

  “You should have listened to us and not gone,” Fox muttered and hit the table lightly with his fist.

  Crispin kept his head bowed, and he didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, raising his head, he finally responded, “Yes, I went to the house party, and something dreadful happened. I’m so ashamed.”

  His friends looked on in shock as a tear ran down the face of the Duke of Weirlane, causing Matt to shut the door of the private dining room and hold back his good news.

  ***

  Lady Meriweather’s House Party

  The Duke of Weirlane arrived at Lady Meriweather’s country home in a state of anticipation. Damien Worthing—Lord Underwood—had promised him that there would be a number of beautiful young women ready and willing to be bedded throughout the weekend. Although he had become a duke at the age of twenty-five due to his father’s death, Crispin Alan Copley had not yet taken up the responsibilities of the title. Being far more interested in sowing his wild oats, he was gaining a more unsavory reputation as time progressed.

  He was the despair of his mother—who never doubted her son’s intelligence, only his ability to use it to make wise decisions—and he continued to pursue liaisons with several widows in Town. Taking a bride for himself, setting up his nursery, and behaving in a manner befitting of a duke just didn’t appeal to him at the time as he was young, virile, and quite happy with multiple partners. Hence, the appeal of this particular house party at Lady Merry Widow’s home with all the willing women.

  After his arrival, he and his valet had settled in, changed his clothing, and the duke headed for the large drawing room where tea and other refreshments were being served. As he alm
ost reached the head of the stairway, he heard his name called by a young female who sounded familiar. He stopped, heard his name called again by that friendly, familiar voice, and discovered, when he turned around, that it was his friend Catherine Benton from a neighboring estate. They had been the best of friends since small children, but he was shocked nearly speechless to see her at this house party.

  “Cat, what the devil are you doing here?” he growled as he grabbed one elbow and pulled her down the hallway to a small alcove. She gave a startled squeak, which he ignored. Pushing her inside, he grabbed her other elbow and gave her a rough shake. “Cat, I asked why are you here?”

  Catherine finally found her tongue and snapped back, “If you will let me go, I’ll tell you.” When he did so, she began rubbing both elbows as he had pinched her skin when he grabbed her. Initially, she had been glad to see her friend until he handled her so roughly. Now, she wasn’t so happy he was here.

  “Well, I’m waiting.”

  Glaring at him, she explained, “Father is remarrying soon, and he made arrangements for me to come. He feels I will meet a number of potential husbands, and it’s his desire that I take the matter of marrying seriously should an offer be made.”

  Under his breath, Crispin cursed her father and called him the lowest piece of trash on earth for sending her to this house party. Lady Meriweather not only invited rakes and fast women to her house parties, she was reputed to also invite young women with large dowries who would be compromised and forced to marry fortune hunters who in turn paid a percentage to their hostess. Crispin was appalled to find the young girl he had protected all his life suddenly thrust into the company of the dregs of society who would inevitably appear.

  Sighing deeply, he ran one hand through his hair, causing it to curl riotously. His mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution to having one he cared for deeply in such a mess.

  Pacing, rubbing his chin, then running both hands through his hair—which his valet would kill him for—he finally concluded his week was ruined. There would be few women for him to bed—if any— as he would be nursemaid to his friend the entire week to keep her from being ravished by the scoundrels who would be looking for innocent flesh to ruin and exploit. His friend was totally an innocent, and Crispin worried how he would protect her the whole week. Her father had sent her without caring if she was raped, married to a libertine, and then abandoned.

  Is this her father’s way of getting her out of the house permanently because he is taking a new bride?

  Crispin debated how to tell her what this house party was really for, and finally told her in as gentle a way and with as few specifics as possible. “That your father sent you here, Cat, is troubling.” His face flamed with the task he’d set himself. “Lady Meriweather’s house parties have a certain…reputation. The people who attend are…more than a little unseemly. They would sooner bed a woman than marry her, and those that would marry…they, well, they…would be looking for a certain financial gain.”

  His friend Cat was no fool and needed no further explanation of the activities to which he was referring. Horrified, with her eyes as big as saucers, she demanded, “If all the guests are horrible people, why are you here?”

  His mouth dropped open, and he started to speak. Then he looked at his feet—because he couldn’t look her in the eye—and quietly replied, “Because…I am…one of these horrible people. I came looking for the same things.”

  Catherine stood frozen in shock. She realized she was totally vulnerable, without protection, and anything could happen to her. She shivered in fear, and what little feeling she had for her father died forever. He would never love her. And now he had sent her among wolves who would devour her if she didn’t find a way out…and soon.

  “Catherine…Catherine.” The duke had to speak to her twice before he got her attention. Now she was shaking so hard in fear that he gathered her in his arms and said, “Shhh, Cat. I’m here. I’ll protect you like I’ve always done. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He squeezed her shoulders lightly. “You remember when George used to bully you and try to scare you? How he chased you and then how we got even with him?”

  She giggled against his chest. Yes, she remembered. “W-we showed everyone wh-what a silly scared little boy he really was by chasing him into the bushes near the livery that were covered in spider webs.” She sniffed. It had been quite a sight, watching George dance and claw at the sticky webs while several of his mates stood by laughing.

  However, her mind wasn’t on the incident; rather, it was on the fact that she was held fast in the arms of the man she had loved forever. The feeling was so beautiful, she would have let him do anything to her at that point, but especially she wanted him to kiss her. And when she lifted her head to look on her beloved’s face with tears glistening in her eyes, Crispin’s breath hitched. She was easily the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he nearly kissed her. Then he mentally berated himself for wanting to ravish his friend. He had always protected her, and he wouldn’t stop now. He would even protect her from himself.

  “Cat…Catherine, you must promise me you will not be alone with any of these people: man or woman. Except for your bedchamber, stay by my side the entire se’nnight. It’s the only way I can keep you safe. Otherwise...” He stopped speaking and just looked at her with worry in his eyes. “If you don’t, you won’t just be compromised; you will be raped and forced to marry for your dowry by one who will probably never love you and may eventually discard you…or worse. Promise you will be careful and wait for me each morning. Lock your door always, and I’ll escort you from your bedchamber downstairs and take you back at night. It’s the only chance I’ll have to keep you safe. Do you understand?”

  “Yes… I-I understand.” Catherine began shaking again, and Crispin pulled her close and rubbed her back until she calmed.

  “Are you better?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you feel like you can go downstairs with me?”

  She nodded again and took a deep breath.

  “Smile, love. We will get through the se’nnight, and then I’ll see you safely home.”

  “Thank you, Crispin. You’re a good friend.” She truly believed what she said, but her heart broke a little more when she realized he only cared for her as a friend.

  Crispin, though, was having a problem with just being her friend. For the first time, he was recognizing that not only was she a lovely young lady, she was also a very lush, desirable woman, and they were at a house party that promoted lust. And he was having difficulty keeping his at a manageable level.

  ***

  For two and a half days Crispin fended off the worst of the rakes and left the impression with them he was sleeping with her and she had no interest in any other man. That worked for a while until one of the libertines, Lord Baskin, offered him £500 pounds to change places with him in the night. Crispin just laughed and sneered at him, “You can’t give her what she wants” and walked away from him. The second night Crispin had hidden in the alcove and watched her room to keep her safe. The whole situation was turning into a nightmare.

  The evening of the third day, Catherine began to feel ill after supper and asked Crispin to escort her to her bedchamber.

  "How do you feel, Cat?" inquired Crispin with a frown on his face as he held her elbow and led her up the stairs.

  "I don't feel well at all. I…don't know what is happening to me. I…feel disoriented."

  Crispin opened her door, led her through it, and shut the door behind him. Then, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her closer to him.

  "Wh-what are you doing, Crisp?" Catherine put her hand on his chest and started to push him away, but she had no strength to do it.

  "Cat…you are so beautiful. I…" His voice trailed off and lust took its place. Cradling her face in his hands, he kissed her ear, her cheek, her chin and then nibbled on her lower lip.

  Cat gasped, closed her eyes, and responded to his kiss. His tongu
e pressed her lips in an invitation to open, and she did. His passion continued to build as she put her arms around his neck and leaned into his kiss. He couldn't believe it as she matched his passion with hers. Cat is an innocent? All thought stopped as he picked her up and took her to her bed and began unclothing her, touching her everywhere as she continued to respond. Then he forgot everything except having her beneath him, and he did the unthinkable.

  Chapter II

  When Crispin awoke with a headache after being with a woman two more times, he had checked the clock on the mantel. It had been nearing dawn, and he had needed to leave the bedchamber and sneak back to his own. He knew he had had intimate relations with a woman more than once but couldn’t remember who the woman was. So, leaning closer with the lit candle, he had reeled backward, horrified to discover the woman was his friend Catherine Benton.

  Crispin didn’t understand why it had happened. I couldn’t have seduced my friend. I wouldn’t do that to her.

  Yet, everything was clear that he had been with her as evidenced by the bloody towel he had laid her upon. Cat had been an innocent but was no longer. He had ruined her for any other man. The truth of what he had done had him groaning as the depth of his depravity hit him, and his heart twisted in his chest as he acknowledged that he really had seduced someone he cared about. For a few minutes, he had sat staring at the beautiful, sleeping face of the friend he had debauched, and he hated himself for what he’d done.

  Not knowing of anything that could help the situation, he had pulled the sheet up to cover her but forgetting that he was without clothing as well. Cat had been frightened, and he was just barely able to prevent her from screaming in fright and waking the entire household.

  Crispin hung his head in shame remembering how upset his friend was and the tears she shed. After telling Catherine he would make things right, Crispin had dressed and then carefully returned to his bedchamber with the towel, which he burned after rebuilding the fire. Then he sat on his bed and contemplated his miserable existence wondering how he could set matters straight with Cat. She was his friend, and he had ravaged her. They had been best friends since childhood, and he had deflowered her, deliberately. He remembered some of the night he spent with her, and the passion she'd displayed.