Dare to Love a Lord: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online

  Dare to Love a Lord

  A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

  ABIGAIL AGAR

  Copyright © 2020 by Abigail Agar

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

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  Table of Contents

  Dare to Love a Lord

  Table of Contents

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  Dare to Love a Lord

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Epilogue

  A Grand Season to Remember

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

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  Dare to Love a Lord

  Introduction

  Emma Sproul has lived her whole life in the shadow of her vibrant friend, Amelia. When Amelia's long lost brother tries to reconnect with her, Emma is utterly unprepared for the challenges and lies that are about to follow and land on her path. The only thing she knows is that he is the most beautiful man she has ever seen. When the lines of loyalty begin to blur, will their growing feelings turn into a true love?

  When Lord Eric Price becomes the Earl of Elsben, he accidentally discovers some of his late father's treasures. The unexpected revelation of some old love letters leads him to the shocking realisation that he has a sibling he knew nothing about. All he wants is a chance to meet his sister, but little did he know how much this would cost him. While he is trying to win her trust, he will start growing other, deeper feelings for her best friend. Could Emma be the salvation he has been looking for?

  When a long buried secret comes to surface, a chance at love may finally be within reach. But Eric’s scandal and Emma’s tension with her friend will stand in the way of love. Faced with the dilemma of choosing between true love and friendship, what will they end up sacrificing? A tale of revenge, hope, and determination, where love is constantly challenged. Can a true, captivating romance be growing in such an unfortunate situation? Or will the many testing sacrifices end up putting out the flame of their love?

  Chapter 1

  Eric Price, the new Earl of Thornbury, had been described as many things in his life. His determination and bravery had been admired. His idealism had been considered a flaw.

  But most of those opinions were the ones held by his late father. The same man from whom he received his fiery red hair and clear blue eyes. There was little else that they had shared in common.

  That was all in the past now. The late Earl of Thornbury had passed away, leaving Eric to accept the title and all of the associated duties. And while he was comfortable taking them on, Eric secretly wished that he had a choice in his own life. He wished that he could have a say.

  Someday, he would.

  Or maybe that was just his idealism.

  Whatever his future held, Eric was taking his time going through the past, looking at all of his father’s old belongings in one of the abandoned rooms upstairs.

  The late Earl of Thornbury had passed away over a month prior, the result of his heavy weight and love of all manner of food and drink, a vice that he had not developed until the past few years. Before that, he had been considered quite handsome.

  Eric pulled the sheet from one of his father’s old trunks and opened the brass buckle. It was a strange thing that it had been unlocked. His father had always been guarded about his belongings. More than likely, Eric’s mother had broken into the trunk long before now. She always had been suspicious of his father.

  There appeared to be few things of import in the trunk. Some clothing, a few small paintings that Eric deemed to have been done by his grandmother, a woman known for her skill.

  And underneath everything, Eric saw a stack of letters tied together with a little blue thread.

  He undid the thread and saw that they were letters from a woman named Liza Lockhart with an address in Finchley.

  Eric had never heard of this woman before and it was strange that his father would keep letters from her. After all, he was not a sentimental man, in general.

  Unfolding the first of the letters, Eric allowed himself to read it. Instantly, he was shocked.

  My Dearest Frederick,

  How unbearable it is that we should now have to be separated! I know that the fault was not yours, but it still wounds me. As I write this, it has been three whole days since I was sent away. Three days of misery, for you are not here with me.

  You know, as do I, that no one can take our love from us. We belong to one another and it shall always be that way.

  I know, also, that you cannot leave her, even if you should wish to. Someday, perhaps our fortunes will return us to one another. Until that day, I will remain yours.

  Forever my heart belongs to you,

  Liza

  Eric was perfectly stunned when he finished the letter. He looked at the date.

  He had been eight years of age when the letter was written. His father, the very same Frederick that the letter had been addressed to, had been married to his mother for nearly ten years by that point.

  He knew that it was wrong to read further, but there were dozens of letters and Eric had to know more about this woman. Had his father still been in a relationship with her up to his death? Who was she?

  One by one, he read through the next four letters. Much of it was the same, proclamations of love and affection, answers to the questions that his father must have asked regarding her health and the wellbeing of her family.

  Eric skipped ahead a bit, jumping into the middle letters.

  Liza told him how she had been feeling unwell. She mentioned that things were growing difficult with her family and she could not find a new position.

  Finally, Eric moved on to the very last letter. Even before he read it, he could sense the weight of the words that it contained, knowing that it had been the last for a reason.

  Before he had begun reading the letters, he imagined they had been written over a number of years. But they had only spanned a matter of two months until now.

  The date at the top showed t
hat it had been written a full three-and-a-half months from the first.

  My Dearest Frederick,

  It is time that I tell you something I have been making every effort to avoid telling you. Oh, I ought to be ashamed of not having told you this sooner, but alas, I could not. You see, I know that you are a good man and I know that it will bring you much difficulty in how to handle this matter.

  It shall affect your wife and your son. But as your wife is unable to have any further children, I hope that you delight in the news that I am with child.

  I have known since some of our earliest letters, but I did not wish to grieve you with the choice that is now before you.

  While I know that there may be no public affection, no marriage, nothing of the sort, I am sure that we may find a way to be together in secret. I am sure that we may find a way to be together and to raise this child of ours.

  I know that she is a daughter. I am certain of it. Can you imagine? She will be beautiful. With your red hair and my green eyes, your pale skin and my delicate features. I can only imagine! Anyway, please write to me promptly and tell me what we are to do.

  Lovingly Yours,

  Liza

  Eric took in a deep breath, barely comprehending what he had just read.

  His father had once had another child? How was it possible that he was unaware of it? Who was this child and who was this Liza?

  There, in the bottom of the trunk, Eric saw one more letter. It did not appear to have ever been bundled with the others, for it was missing the crease from the thread that the others had halfway along the envelope.

  He opened it slowly and read this final note.

  Dearest Frederick,

  Why have you not replied? It has been three weeks since I wrote to you of my condition and I have written to you six times. What do you intend to do? Tell me that I am not abandoned!

  Please, please reply to me.

  Yours,

  Liza

  There was no sign of the other letters, but Eric realised with clarity that his father had not replied to Liza upon learning that he was to have another child.

  That sounded very much like the Earl of Thornbury that Eric knew.

  And yet, his father had kept these letters.

  Without giving himself time to think and consider, Eric made his way down the stairs with the letters in hand. He found his mother seated in the parlour as she often was, enjoying her stitching.

  “Mother,” Eric began.

  “Ah, my boy. What is it? You appear quite in shock,” she said, those hands that stitched trembling against the pain that Eric knew she had not yet confessed, even to herself.

  “Do you know anything about these?” he asked, holding up the letters.

  Lady Thornbury’s eyes widened before she looked away. She had not been quite fast enough to evade Eric’s question. She knew about the letters. It was clear.

  “Mother, you must tell me about these. Who was this woman? Do I have a brother or sister?” he asked, insistently.

  Lady Thornbury set the stitching down and before he knew it, her eyes welled with tears.

  “Why must you ask me about this?” she cried.

  Eric felt bad, but he had to know. He could not stop himself from learning the truth now that he understood that there was a truth that must be learned.

  “You must tell me. Who was this woman? What do you know of her?” he asked.

  “I long suspected your father,” she began, trying to wipe away the tears that continued to flood her eyes.

  “Of what?” he asked.

  “Of having an affair with one of the maids. Liza,” she said, using the name as a curse.

  “So what happened?” Eric asked.

  “I sent her away. I could not allow her to stay when I knew that there was something between the two of them. As far as I knew, she had returned to Finchley and there was nothing more of it. And then, a few years ago, I discovered your father’s trunk and I opened it,” she said.

  “And that is when you read the letters?” Eric asked.

  “Only the first. I read only the first,” she cried, as if it was a denial in the midst of a confession.

  “You did not read until the end?” Eric asked.

  “No, I could not. I was so appalled that I had been right. Your father really had been unfaithful to me,” she said.

  “Then you know nothing of the child?” Eric asked.

  His mother looked at him with her dull, grey eyes.

  “There was a child?” she asked.

  “It would seem,” Eric replied.

  She looked away and the tears of betrayal were silent this time as they filled her eyes anew.

  “Mother, if I have a sibling out in the world, I must find them. You cannot think that I would simply move past something like this, do you?” he asked.

  “Whatever illegitimate children your father may or may not have had, that is no sibling of yours. It is a reminder of his ill behaviour and the fact that your father was a man who adored his vices. I cannot condone any such search for another heir of his,” she said.

  But Eric knew his mother. She was bitter now, yes, but she would get over it. She was not like his father either. She was sentimental and would want Eric to know any brothers or sisters that he might have.

  He knew that it had been hard for her that Eric had been an only child and he imagined that she would even feel a sense of kinship with any other child of her husband’s.

  “Yes, Mother, I am sure that you are unhappy with the behaviour that Father exhibited, but I also know your heart. You will come around in time. Until then, I respect your decision to disapprove,” he said.

  She continued her silent weeping and nodded, already conceding to the fact that he was right.

  “I know that you must find this person. I can hardly be angry with you. I failed in giving you a brother or sister and there is nothing more that I could do about it. But you must also remember that sometimes people hold on to bitterness,” she said.

  “I understand, but you must let go of it, Mother. Father is dead now and this child did nothing wrong,” he said.

  She shook her head.

  “I was not speaking of myself. Whatever feelings I have regarding your father and all that happened between him and myself and him and another woman, I am not the one whose bitterness you must be wary of,” she said.

  “You mean the child,” he stated.

  “Yes, the child who had to grow up without a father and without the fortunes that you now have,” she replied.

  Eric looked at the letters in his hand.

  Finchley. That was not so far. He could get there in not much more than an hour.

  What would he find? Would it be a brother or sister who had long wished to meet him? Would they even know who he was?

  He would find out eventually. Until then, until he met the young man or young woman, he would just have to hope that everything was soon to come together. He would have to hope that he could find his sibling.

  Otherwise, he would forever feel a hole in his chest.

  Chapter 2

  Emma Sproul threaded the needle with her expert eye, looping it through the metal and pulling the thread to the desired length.

  The London season was approaching within the following months and it would not be long before the orders for gowns came pouring in. She would need to finish this gown quickly.