Prologue

Home was not a place, it was a feeling. She felt it with every step. For Miss Isabel Garrett, Lichfield was home. She could never be lost or distressed at Lichfield because she had spent her entire life in its safety. Her father, the Duke of Lichfield, had given Isabel near dominion over every corner and crevice. In her younger years, she often ran about the house. Those were days of discovery, of always uncovering something new at Lichfield like a connecting passageway or mysterious door to new rooms. Before she was four and ten, she had mastered every part of the manor.

Isabel knew the Lichfield Maze best of all. Every part of it had once been her playground. It was in the maze that she stood in her long muslin dress which moved with the soft breeze that blew across. The sun beamed down, warming her skin. She smiled and decided that it was time to leave, for she’d had enough for the day. She was about to begin her walk when a husky voice called out her name.

“Isabel…”

She glanced over her shoulder. There was no one there.

“Isabel…” The voice came again.

She whirled in a circle but still, there was no one there. The voice, however, was eerily familiar.

It couldn’t be.

“Isabel, I’m here.” Came the voice again.

Her heart began to thud. The voice was coming from far off but in a direction, she could discern. She moved towards the voice, excitement coursing through her with each step. She wanted to hear the voice call her name again.

“Isabel…” The voice called.

She clenched her fists, grinning. She doubled back on the path she was in and slowly crossed over into the next.

There he was, standing in his full military uniform. His grin was wide, and his green eyes glinted in the gentle spray of sunlight. Standing where he was, his dark hair had an ethereal gloss. Isabel had never seen anyone so handsome. She stood still, her lips stretched out in a smile, just as she said his name.

“Alexander.” Her cheeks turned crimson.

Alexander licked his lips and made his way over to her. Isabel swallowed as he approached. She knew what his touch did to her. She knew how he made her feel. Merely seeing him had sent her in a state of want, unending craving, and a need to please.

When Alexander stopped close to her, she cast her gaze down. Looking into his eyes would make her lose control.

“My beautiful Lady.” Alexander whispered, taking her hand in his. Isabel felt her insides shiver. She wanted him to touch more than her hands.

“Alexander…” she whispered, looking up and, finally, into his eyes. His eyes were even more beautiful as she saw them closer.

He grinned, slipping a hand away from hers so that he could touch her face. When his fingers began to caress her cheek, moving in small circular motions as he stared into her eyes, Isabel was overrun with passion. Alexander must have felt the same way too because he moved her backward until her back was to the wall. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against hers. It was soft and needy, nibbling at her lower lip before finally moving against hers hungrily.

Isabel gave into the kiss faster than she thought. With Alexander’s hand on her face, a torrent of emotions came from within, and she soon became overwhelmed. She needed to express all of it. Surrendering to the moment, she let her hands guide her. They moved to Alexander’s chest and roamed with the intent of making him feel what he made her feel. Isabel moaned when her tongue came into play. Alexander was quite skillful; he knew just how to kiss her so that all she wanted was his tongue all over her body.

It seemed to Isabel that she could not get enough of Alexander. The house was too exposed for the things she wanted to do with him, the things she wanted him to do to her.

Whilst his tongue worked their way with her lips, his hands left her face and went on to press over her clothed breasts, making her gasp. She wished she could rip the dress off so that he could touch her bare breast. She wondered what that would feel like.

Just when Isabel was beginning to slide her hand down to the waistband of Alexander’s breeches, he pulled away from her.

Isabel panted. Her lips felt swollen, her hands itched to touch him, and beneath her dress, her breasts felt cold because his hands over them had kept them warm. However, when Isabel looked at Alexander, her want seemed driven far away.

Alexander gazed at her with cold eyes. His hands were balled into a fist and his jaws were clenched.

“You are not worthy, Isabel.”

Taken aback but at the same time curious, Isabel moved away from the wall and tried to walk towards him, but she was unable to move.

“What are you saying, Alexander?”

“You are not worthy of my love or of anyone’s love. You deserve to be alone, Isabel. Alone!” He screamed.

Isabel felt herself shiver, but not from passion this time. It was from sadness, fear, and guilt. She shook her head. “Alexander, no…”

He ignored her and turned his back to her. Isabel felt tears well up in her eyes as Alexander began to walk away from her. She called out his name. “Alexander!”

Alexander kept walking until he took a turn at the end of the path. Finally, Isabel was able to move, so she ran after him, his name on her lips. “Alexander! Wait!” She was crying now, her tears cascading down her cheeks rapidly. She was unable to bear the pain of seeing him walk away. She wanted him, she loved him. How could she live without him?

“Alexander!” she called, sobbing loudly now. When she arrived at the path where he had walked into, she saw that it was empty. She shook her head and ran towards another one.

Isabel ran around, stumbling from path to path, until she felt lost in the maze. Her heart beat rapidly, her hands shook by her side, and her eyes were full of warm tears. She stopped running when she realized that she did not know her way around anymore. Isabel screamed into the air.

 For the first time in all her life, she felt lost in that maze. Perhaps that was because she was no longer that girl. She was no longer Isabel Garrett. She was now Lady Isabel Maxwell.

*****

“No!” she gasped, waking up from a horrible dream. Lady Isabel looked around. She was not in the Lichfield Maze. She was no longer the girl who had been loved by Alexander Steward.

Isabel combed a hand through her hair. She had not been afflicted by such a nightmare in years. Not since the years, she had been wed to the Viscount, Lord Maxwell. Why was she having them again now, when Lord Maxwell was dead and buried. She sat up and glanced around her bed-chamber. It was a large room and at that moment emphasized the fact that she was so alone, that she had been alone for years now.

That dream, she realized, was a reminder of the horrid emotion she had put Alexander through. It was a reminder of the abiding hurt she felt after she gave up on their love and wedded Lord Maxwell instead.

She had loved Alexander Steward, a man who bore no title. There was a time he had dominated her dreams and brought her only joy when he filled them. She had dreamt of being wed to him and being happy forever. But alas, his lack of title had meant her father could never approve of the match. He forbade their courtship and stamped out any chance that it could ever blossom into marriage. That, however, did not stop Alexander’s zeal, Isabel recalled. It was Alexander’s will that strengthened her to fight for what she wanted. They made plans to elope and start a life together, far away from Richmond. She had been thrilled about the plan. A life alone with Alexander was something she had wanted.

But it never came to be. Like much of Isabel’s life, tragedy seemed to fall on the precipice of triumph. She had been unable to meet Alexander as planned and that had proved to be the end of it. She never saw him again after that. She had heard the news about him joining the army sometime thereafter, but only silence after that. Seven years had passed since she had last seen him and yet she had never been able to forget; not his smile nor his touch on her cheek.

Isabel shook her head, remastering herself. Lord Maxwell, her late husband, had left her a generous portion of wealth and she no longer wanted for any material thing. As terrible as it was to think it, that was the one thing she had been grateful for in life; that Lord Maxwell was no more and that his tyranny in her life was over. He had treated her with nothing but malice and contempt; every word he spoke was to abuse, belittle, or torment her. Any word he spoke to her had been said with a tone and timbre that served only to remind her that she was beneath him. His death meant that she no longer had to walk around with fear of what he might say next, but the melancholic memories of what he had put her though lingered in her mind, haunting her.

Love had abandoned her twice. Now she was free of men, both those that professed to love only to leave, and those that refused to show it, only to die. She was determined to keep her freedom and be independent.

 

Chapter One

 

They say death comes but once, but for Alexander Steward, it seemed as though it came in waves. His father, his mother, his comrades at war, and now his Great Uncle… Alexander glanced over the letter once more that had brought him that most horrible report. The news that his Great Uncle had passed had shocked him and he was still reeling from it.

The last time he had seen the old man was after a short visit from service before he went back to the battlefield to defend his country. His Great Uncle had been vibrant, full of life, and above all, welcoming. Had he been an actor, he was the sort of man to play a king or a great warrior. He was a strong, timeless figure, both straight-backed and stoic. For his Great Uncle, Alexander had always felt nothing but the utmost pride. How was he to have expected that the last time he saw his Great Uncle would be the very last time forever?

He had received the letter informing him of his Great Uncle’s passing from his friend Michael Follet, who was also their family solicitor. He had readied himself immediately and made for London as fast as he could.

Now, as the carriage rocked back and forth over the cobblestoned streets, he was approaching Michael Follet’s home to hear word on their family affairs.

Alexander hated London. As he glanced out of his carriage window at the lantern-brightened streets, the city seemed to sneer at him. He was what he was. There was no walking away from that. In the time since he had last passed those streets, he had gone to war and fought for his country to great merit. When one watched the life leave a man, one changes forever and the streets seemed not quite so bright as they had once been to him. This was not a city for men like him, for commoners. No man was truly welcomed in London lest he was in possession of a good fortune. And Alexander was certainly not in possession of any fortune, let alone a good one.

The carriage driver drew rein.

“We are here already?” Alexander asked.

“Yes, we are, Sir.”

Alexander drew in breath and alighted from the carriage. Michael Follet’s house was modest, as far as London society was concerned, but Alexander had a tremendous respect for men who earned their money. Michael Follet was not a nobleman by birth, but he had worked hard to raise himself into their stewardship, and was now welcomed and accepted in those circles when it came to the conduct of legal affairs. Under any other circumstances, Alexander would have been glad to see him again, but this was different. This was death. Bereavement. There could be no gladness tonight.

He knocked the door firmly and a light appeared in the ground floor window. Soon enough, Michael appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile.

“My dearest Alexander, it is a pleasure to see you,” Michael said, extending his hand.

Alexander clasped his hand. “It is a pleasure to see you, too. I wish it had been in happier circumstances.”

“Indeed,” whispered Michael, ushering him in. “I know how much this hurts you, Alex, and I am truly sorry.”

Alexander pulled his hand through his hair and said nothing. Michael led him into his study and offered him a seat.

“No, thank you,” Alexander muttered. He couldn’t sit at that moment. His heart was beating too fast, and the room seemed too small around him. It was impossible to believe that all this was true, that his Great Uncle had truly died. When Alexander lost his father, it had been his Great Uncle, Lord John Steward, Earl of Carter, who had taken him in and treated him like a son. Were it not for the kindness and generosity of his Great Uncle he would almost certainly have numbered amongst the homeless and hungry in those miserable years after he became an orphan. That Alexander was this man standing in London today was all because his Great Uncle had chosen to treat him like a son and not a stranger. He would never be able to repay that measure of great kindness.

“How was your time in His Majesty’s Service?” Michael asked.

Alexander knew that Michael meant no harm in it. It was just an attempt at small talk, but Alexander still found it difficult to speak of the war, of all the things he had seen in trying to survive it.

He glanced down at Michael, meeting his eye. “I have fought in two campaigns. In seven years, I saw the bloody business of every kind and order. We fought in the sleet and the snow and the rain. We saw men die and sometimes did great violence ourselves, and that’s not near the worst of it. I’ve run away in fear, I’ve run forwards in courage. I did things that I would never have imagined I could do if I hadn’t ever put on an officer’s uniform and marched out from my barracks. I suppose to put it plainly, my dear Michael, my time in His Majesty’s Service was eventful.”

Michael stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Evidently,” he said at last. “I suppose we should get on to the matter at hand.”

Alexander nodded. “I suppose so.”

Michael shuffled some papers on his deck and glanced up at Alexander. “You really should sit. There is quite a lot that we ought to discuss, ” said Michael, staring at Alex with what seemed like pity. “Please.”

Alex sighed and did as was requested, sinking into a velvet cushioned chaise lounge.

Michael gave a grateful nod. “As you know, your Great Uncle only left behind his daughter and granddaughters.”

Alexander nodded. “Emily and her dear children. Are they well?”

Michael smiled and nodded. “They are all very well and are being suitably accounted for.”

His cousin Emily had always been like a kind older sister to him, and she treated him like the brother she never had. She had not been pleased to hear that Alexander had chosen to join the armed forces, and she had not understood then why he had to go. Why he had to leave London.

Alexander wondered why Emily wasn’t here. Surely, she ought to have had some part to play in handling her father’s affairs.

He fixed Michael with a quizzical look, waiting for what he had to say next.

“Well, Alexander, after rigorous searching and confirmation, it has been discovered that you are the late Lord Carter’s closest male relative and as such it is customary that you become the next Earl of Carter.”

Alexander recoiled back as though Michael’s words had been a punch. Stunned would have been quite the understatement for what he felt when that news reached his ears. He had never even considered who might succeed his Great Uncle as the Earl of Carter, he was sure there were others in line before him. He had always despised the nobility and everything that had to do with it, his Great Uncle had been the only exception in this. Alexander had felt keenly the greatest indignity of his life when the woman he loved, on account of her being from a noble family, had rejected his offer of marriage and married a nobleman instead. It was a rejection that had sent his life into an utter spiral.

“Michael, this is absurd. I know nothing about the Earldom. Choosing me as a replacement for my Great Uncle would only bring the estate down. I have no education on the affairs of nobility. All I know is how to defend England. I know nothing about keeping records and a manor and all that comes with such a high position.”

Michael sighed, leaned back on his chair, and rubbed his temple. Alexander stared at him intently, hoping that what he had to say next would be in support of what he had just said.

“Alex, I understand your sentiment, believe me. However, in this matter, my hands are inextricably tied. You are the only living male relative and so the only one to succeed your Great Uncle and it should bear mentioning that I… I am certain of your capabilities as both a man and a leader. Regardless, there’s no possible way you could run down the Earldom”

Alex straightened and quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Michael cleared his throat but said nothing.

Alexander leaned forward. “What situation is the Estate in? ”

Michael shrugged, parted his lips, but no words came out.

Alex tilted his head. “Speak to me, Michael.”

Michael let out a heavy breath. “Well,” he began, leaning forward absentmindedly so that his elbows settled on the mahogany table. “Your Great Uncle had quite the gambling habit.”

“I never knew of it!”

“As you know, after you last saw him, his wife passed. He was all alone, and it did not take long before his grief started to settle in him. He lost his way somehow. Before I knew anything about it, he had turned to gambling.” Michael stared into Alexander’s eyes as he delivered the last blow. “The Earl has left the Estate nearly bankrupt, Alex. With the standing debts he left behind, it is only a matter of time before the Estate falls.  I had suggested that a marriage to a wealthy noblewoman would save the Estate, and, if she was young, he might have got an heir, but your Great Uncle refused to re-marry. He said it would be a dishonor to his late wife. There was really no other solution, and this broke his heart. He never forgave himself leading up until the moment of his death.”

That information was a lot for Alexander to take in. He had seen the love that his Great Uncle bore for his wife. An enchanted love that filled their home with warmth and laughter that never went away. It must have crushed his Great Uncle to lose her. A wave of guilt settled on Alexander.

“I should have been there for him,” he whispered.

Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. “You cannot blame yourself. You weren’t to know what he was going through. You had your own life to live.”

Alexander shook his hand away and buried his face in his hands. He rose to his feet, feeling quite overwhelmed by the news. What Michael was trying to say was that his Great Uncle had died feeling ashamed of what he had done. He had been heavy hearted in his last days. The revelation did not sit well with Alexander. He could never forget the flourishing days of the Estate and how his Great Uncle had swelled with pride. It pained him to realize that his Great Uncle had not died a happy man, having left his legacy in shreds before his departure from this world.

“He would have wanted his Estate saved” Alexander whispered.

Michael nodded. “Indeed.”

 

Chapter Two

 

Alexander felt torn, but one thing he was certain of was how much he wanted to redeem his Great Uncle’s legacy, and, more importantly, keep the Estate in the family line.

Alexander felt a deep wave of duty to his late Great Uncle. He might not have understood anything about the ways of the nobility, but if there was something he did understand, it was duty. He had never been able to appreciate his Great Uncle for what he had done in his life. Perhaps this was the only way. The only problem now was how.

He turned to his friend and placed his palms on the table. “If I am to accept this, Michael, I ought to know how to set everything right. My lack of knowledge concerning these affairs might be a setback.”

A grin crossed his friend’s face. “Does this mean that you accept the Earldom?”

Alexander gave his friend a pointed look. “Mayhap.”

Michael raised both his hands midair. “Your affirmation is all that is needed before we discuss a way forwards.”

“You make this sound as though it shall be easy to redeem an entire estate. ”

“It shan’t be quite easy, to be frank.” Michael shook his head. “All I can offer is the same solution I had offered your Great Uncle, my friend. ”

“Pray tell?”

“To be wed. You must seek a bride with a sizeable dowry.”

“What?” Alexander exclaimed, falling back into his seat. “Is that the only way?”

“I am afraid so… with the estate, with the situation it is in, no one would want to invest in any business connected to it. But a marriage to a wealthy and titled Lady would bring back the glory and economy of the Earldom, and that, my friend, should not be too difficult for you. You would only have to attend the prerequisite balls and be on the lookout for just the right lady. There are a lot of spinsters and maidens in London. Even Dowagers, all you have to do is put yourself out there.”

Now Alexander saw how absurd the entire situation was. He let out a short laugh. There was certainly no way he would be wed. He wanted nothing at all to do with love or marriage. He had sworn off that for seven whole years and he was not about to break that promise. The last time he had allowed himself to feel, he had been hurt and terribly so.

Alexander’s mind drifted back to Isabel Garrett, the only woman he had ever loved. With her, he had dared to dream and imagined a future where love and laughter would be things to perpetually share. That was a long time ago and she had crushed those dreams for good. Despite all that he had been through, Alexander had suffered no greater pain than the sting of her rejection, the demise of their love. Even when he had lost his parents, the pain had not been quite so severe. The pain that love brought was soul wrenching. He never wanted to relive such again.

“There has to be another way.” Alexander countered.

“You have nothing to lose here, Alexander. I do not see what the problem is.” Michael said.

Alexander shook his head. “I do not wish to be wed. Love is the last thing on my mind. And I believe that… a business deal would be more beneficial on the long run.”

Michael scoffed. “There is no doubt about that, Alexander. However, getting anyone to invest in a nearly fallen estate shall be difficult. As I said earlier.”

Alexander respected that Michael was only making his suggestions based on his expertise; however, he strongly believed that something other than being wed could be done. He truly would have not taken up the mantle of running the Estate had he not felt greatly indebted to his Great Uncle and although he held no regret that he had accepted the Earldom, he felt that there would be hurdles along the way and it had already begun.

“Take some time to think things through, Alex. Perhaps it would aid you to come to terms with what should be done.”

A curt nod was the only response Alex had to offer at that point in time. He had to go home and think things through. Alexander rose from his seat and stuck out his right hand. Michael stood up and clapped his hand against it.

“For what it is worth, my friend, I am glad that you have returned. Your return has given me hope that Carter Manor can be restored before it falls to a place of no return.” Michael said.

“I am indeed pleased to be back, Michael. But I had never predicted that my return would be under these circumstances.”

“I understand.” Michael nodded.

“I shall take my time to think about a way out of this mess. I do have a lot to learn if I wish to save the estate and I will need you for that.” Alexander said seriously.

Michael nodded vigorously. “You must know that you can come to me anytime. My doors are open for you, my friend, never forget that.”

With one last nod, Alex turned and made his way out of the study.

“Where will you be staying?” Michael asked.

“There is a boarding house in Cheapside, they should have a bed for me,” Alexander replied.

Michael shook his head. “Nonsense. You’re an Earl now. I will have a carriage brought round. You are going to Carter Manor.”

*****

As his carriage rode towards Carter Manor, Alexander kept replaying the conversation he had with Michael in his head. He had tried and failed to figure a way out of this unconscionable predicament. It felt as though Michael had been right; there was no other hope of saving the Earldom but to make an advantageous marriage.

The carriage came at last to Carter Manor and Alexander glanced out of the window. It was plain to see that the manor had deteriorated somewhat. The lawns were overgrown and the fountain at the center of the carriageway had run dry. Vines and other creeping greenery were beginning to make their steady climb up the windows.

He approached the door and knocked firmly. The man who answered had a round, kindly face, with hair greying at the edges and a moustache plucked into a curl.

“Mr. Wilson,” Alexander exclaimed.

Mr. Wilson bowed. “Alex-” He caught himself and covered his mouth. “I suppose I must call you Lord Carter now.”

Alexander smiled. “So Michael has told you?”

“I was most pleased to hear it, my Lord.”

Alexander laughed. “Please don’t call me that, at least not when we are in private.”

Mr. Wilson frowned. “You must know that I do not drop my manners, Lord Carter. You are Lord Carter now and long may that continue.”

Alexander shook his head with a wry grin. The house was not much different from the last time he had been there except for the fact that it seemed much smaller.

“I had learnt you would be arriving today my Lord and took the liberty of gathering some things for supper. Shall you be taking your supper now, my Lord?”

Alexander nodded, scratching his neck. “That would be lovely, Mr. Wilson, thank you.”

Mr. Wilson bowed. “I trust you know your way around, my Lord?”

“I do,” said Alexander.

With that, Mr. Wilson scurried off to the kitchen.

Alex made for the study and along the way saw a large painting that depicted his Great Uncle on a large horse. It made him smile to see his Great Uncle portrayed with such veneration. He moved through the corridor and came at last to the study. He sank into the desk chair and stared down at the documents scattered across the table. His Great Uncle’s cursive was perfect until the very end, no matter how much he had been battered by gambling and drink. That made Alexander smile. Carter Manor had always been a great home but now it was his home. He owned it. It felt incredibly strange.

Before long, Mr. Wilson reappeared to inform him that his supper was ready, and he dined on succulent beef with roasted potatoes. When all was done, he, at last, made his way to his bed-chamber, thinking that a nap would help to ease and focus his thoughts. It turned out to be quite the opposite. Once alone, his mind began a full-scale assault. The past dominated his mind then, more than it had ever in the past. It seemed the requirement that he be wed made him think of his heartbreak even more.

Pressing his lips in a thin line, he remembered the letter he had received from Isabel that had ruined him. He had never brought himself to destroy the letter and he did not know why. But he had also not read it in years. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the large bundle of letters he had received over the years from Isabel. The first and only opened letter amongst the bunch stared back at him with its haunted cursive. He almost always kept that first letter on his person as a reminder. He began to read.

 

Dear Alexander,

I understand that you had hoped for a future between us; however, that is no longer possible. I cannot jeopardize my future for a foolish love that shall have no meaning in years to come. My father has found me a proper suitor and I shall be wed soon. I wish you well in your future endeavors.

Truly, Isabel.

 

Alexander crumpled the paper and tossed the letter into the drawer. Isabel had sounded so cold in that letter that it made him feel as though she were a stranger. The pain had held him back for too long. Why did he have to hold himself back when she moved on? When she was happy? Why did he, who had done nothing wrong, have to suffer emotionally for her sake?

He shook his head and whispered a vicious, “No.” He needed to move on. One thing Isabel had written in that letter that clung to him. She had said she would not jeopardize her future for a foolish love. He, too, would not jeopardize his future for a past that no longer bore meaning to him.

He decided there and then that he would do what needed to be done. He did not have to invest emotionally in anyone. All he needed was a marriage of convenience and that was what he was going to seek. Nothing would hold him back from saving his Earldom.

 

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