Rescuing Lady Jane Read online

  RESCUING LADY JANE

  A Regency Romance

  Lydia Pembroke

  ©Copyright 2019 Lydia Pembroke

  All Rights Reserved.

  License Notes

  This Book is licensed for personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author.

  Disclaimer

  This story is a work of fiction any resemblance to people is purely coincidence. All places, names, events, businesses, etc. are used in a fictional manner. All characters are from the imagination of the author.

  Table of Contents

  Disclaimer

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Part Two

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  About the Author

  Other Books by Lydia Pembroke

  Here is Your preview of Book 3 in the Lower Nettlefold Dunsmore House Series Reuniting Lady Marguerite

  Chapter One

  Prologue

  Lady Jane Holbrook peered shyly across the dance-floor, admiring the flowing gowns of muslin and silk as they swept across the ballroom. She loved to dance, though she lacked the courage and a partner. Instead, she kept to the shadows, sipping tentatively from a goblet of sparkling champagne. It made her feel warm and comforted in the presence of such confidence.

  A gentleman watched her from the other side of the ballroom. An imposing figure of over six-feet, with rugged features and broad shoulders that Jane supposed could bear any weight. He was a handsome man, though somewhat dark and infinitely brooding in character. He had caught her eye upon his entrance, though he had made no move to speak with her. She could hardly blame him, when there were so many other young ladies to delight his gaze.

  “You appear to have an admirer, Jane,” her aunt spoke softly in her ear.

  Lady Felicity Warren was a charming woman of forty, her shapely figure plumped out by the years, though her face retained much of her former beauty.

  In her heyday, when she had been Lady Felicity Fielding, she had been the name upon everyone’s lips. It had come as a surprise to the ton when her engagement to Lord George Warren was announced, for he had been a plain man of middling fortune. Regardless, Jane admired them, for she had never seen two people so deeply in love, even now. It was what she longed for herself, having learned that such things were possible. The only people she had encountered who were more in love than her aunt and uncle were her mother and father, though she had lost both several years ago. She still felt the sting of their loss keenly.

  “Nonsense, Aunt,” she replied.

  “He has scarcely taken his eyes off you since he entered.”

  “Perhaps he finds me strange.”

  “Unlikely, my darling. Your modesty is your charm. These other young ladies would flaunt themselves before such men, but your shy demeanour will entice them all the more. What you do not say is what they wish to know.”

  Jane glanced at her aunt.

  “I do not believe that can be so.”

  “That is because you have much to learn in this world, my dearest girl. Gentlemen prefer mystery over what is plain to see.”

  As if sensing that he was being discussed, the brooding gentleman forcefully caught the arm of the host and whispered something in his ear. A moment later, the two men crossed the ballroom towards the spot where Jane was standing. Upon closer inspection, her supposed admirer was even more handsome.

  His features were strong and masculine, though a hint of a smile turned up one corner of his lips. Ice-blue eyes seemed to bore into her soul, seeking out answers to his unspoken questions. Her cheeks burned with something akin to embarrassment, for no man had ever looked at her like that before. He seemed ravenous, fixing his gaze on her as though she were about to be served up on a silver platter. It frightened her as much as it thrilled her.

  “Lady Jane Holbrook, it is my pleasure to introduce you to James Felling, Baron of Waterford,” their host said, gesturing between the two individuals.

  “The pleasure is all mine, Lady Jane,” James insisted, as he lifted her hand and kissed it gently. His voice was almost bestial, coming from a deep, growling place within his broad chest. It resonated within her, setting her heart aflutter. She curtseyed as he kept hold of her hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Thank you, Lord Waterford. You must hail from Northumberland, with a name such as that?”

  “Impressive,” he remarked. “Northumberland is, indeed, where my seat lies.”

  “What, pray tell, has brought you to York?”

  He smiled a private smile.

  “The company of a remarkable lady. Although, I have yet to find one who is as scintillating as she is intellectual. Perhaps my search is over?”

  Jane blushed furiously, unable to speak.

  “Might I request the pleasure of the next dance?”

  She nodded, recovering her wits.

  “Certainly, Lord Waterford. My card is, as yet, empty.”

  “Then we must remedy that. It seems a travesty for a young lady such as yourself to find herself on the edges of such a joyous occasion.” He eyed her intently. “Yes, a travesty indeed.”

  “You are too kind, Lord Waterford.”

  He chuckled, the sound rich and throaty.

  “No, Lady Jane, I simply understand the value of excellence. These other gentlemen do not appear to see that the rarest jewel in the crown is always hidden away, for only the most perseverant to discover.”

  The orchestra faded away, the dancers moving aside to join or depart for the next dance. Lord Waterford held out his hand to Jane. She took it tentatively, allowing him to lead her onto the floor as the musicians prepared to begin the next tune. With a solitary shiver of violin strings, they plunged into a jaunty song that ushered a smile onto Jane’s face.

  With effortless grace, she began to dance. Lord Waterford was elegant, which came as something of a surprise considering his build. Not that Jane noticed much of the way he moved, for her eyes were fixated upon his features and the way he looked at her with such potent adoration.

  York was by no means as socially refined as Bath or London, but she had been coming here since she was a child. Her father’s estate was not far from the city, and she always revelled in the rich history that filled its streets. The wall where knights of old had kept away invaders, and the old Viking strongholds that incited such exciting thoughts of times gone-by.

  She often wondered how it must have felt, to have lived in such an era, where everything was rough and coarse and brutal. A million miles away from the society they now enjoyed.

  As they danced, she imagined that Lord Waterford would have made a mighty warrior, with his sword and his shield at his side. She flushed at the notion of him charging into battle, with those icy eyes staring dead ahead at the oncoming enemy. He would have been a force to be reckoned with, she was certain of that. There was a strength to his demeanour that intimidated her, yet she hoped that his strong arms might also protect in a way that she desired. All her life, she had dreamt of a happy security, with a man who could keep her safe. Lord Waterford seemed like her ideal made tangible, brought into existence by shee
r wishing alone.

  “And how is Northumberland?” she asked, as they danced around one another.

  “Stark and beautiful,” he replied. “I think you would like it there, Lady Jane.”

  “You do?”

  “Oh yes, to see a rose among thorns would be a fine thing indeed.”

  “I am no rose, Lord Waterford.”

  She dropped her gaze, for fear of revealing how his words had touched her.

  “And yet you bloom before my very eyes. How can you say you are not a rose?”

  She lifted her gaze back up. “You flatter me.”

  “I am honest.”

  “You should not speak so,” she murmured.

  “Why-ever not? There is no-one to hear our discussion, and I so desire to speak my truth to you. I knew, as soon as I saw you, that you were the young lady I have been seeking all these years. It was mere chance that has brought me to York, but now I see that it is not chance at all— it is destiny.”

  She had never heard a man speak with such casual poeticism. The words flowed smoothly from his lips, as though made for such tender sentiment. He, too, appeared both stark and beautiful, in his own way. Jane admired the dichotomy immensely, for she realised there was much more to discover beneath the surface of who he presented himself to be. Somewhat gruff, tall of stature, broad of body, with a growling voice that made him seem almost like a beast… and yet, within, there was untapped softness of heart, and a warmth that filled her up from deep inside her heart.

  At seven and ten, she was young, but she was no fool. Her mind was not prone to daydreams or romantic imaginings.

  Now, however, she felt as though she were living within one such dream. Lord Waterford had come into the ballroom and changed everything, without her even realising he had done so. And now, she did not think that the pieces of her life could ever be put back in the same way again.

  Indeed, from this dream, she did not wish to awaken.

  Part One

  Chapter One

  “I must be the happiest young lady in all of England,” Jane chirped excitedly, as she leaned close to her new husband. The carriage rattled along the road on unsteady wheels, leading her away from the life she had known for seventeen years. A Summertime haze bathed them in warm, golden light as they made the long journey north.

  “You certainly seem to be,” James replied, his gaze turned outward.

  The countryside moved past the window as they trundled on, showing emerald fields of long grass where cows grazed contentedly, and shimmering expanses of gilded corn that bent in the light breeze. They had been married that very morning, the vows still fresh.

  However, there had been no time for familial celebration. James had insisted on their departure, as soon as the nuptials had come to a close.

  It was rather unusual, but Jane did not mind. She was eager to begin her new life at his side, where she hoped that joy would come in abundance. Her aunt and uncle, and her dear sister, had cried when the carriage pulled away. Truly, she had shed a tear or two on their behalf, though the lingering taste of James’ first kiss had made her too giddy to give much credence to sadness. It had been a brisk graze of the lips upon leaving the church, but it had whispered of things to come. Romantic kisses in their marital bed. She blushed happily at the notion.

  “Tell me of Northumberland,” Jane urged eagerly.

  “I have told you before, my love. It is stark and beautiful. After Egremont Hall, it shall undoubtedly take you some time to settle into the Waterford Estate. Once you have, I am certain you will grow fond of it.”

  “I truly believe that I shall.”

  He glanced at her with a strange look in his eyes.

  “I must apologise again that my own family were not at the church to celebrate our union. My mother’s health is not what it once was, and she does not like to travel long distances. However, I have received correspondence that they are most excited to meet you, and you shall undoubtedly bewitch them as you have done me.”

  She tilted her chin up.

  “How did I become so fortunate, my darling?”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, his hands cupping her face as he moved slowly. Unsure of what to do, she mirrored his actions, applying firmer pressure to his mouth as he held her.

  He chuckled softly in the back of his throat, kissing her all the harder for her diligent endeavours into romance. A shiver of delight ran through her body, her heart racing as she melted into his embrace. This is love, she thought. This is love, and I have found it for myself.

  He pulled away a moment later, returning his gaze to the beautiful countryside that passed the carriage by. All she could do was stare at him in abject adoration. They had known each other for all of a month, and her affections for him remained unwavering. Truly, she had never seen a more handsome creature in all her life. His strength made her feel safe and content, like a tortoise retreating into its shell. By his side, she felt powerful and free, revelling in every new experience they were able to share together.

  For the rest of the tiring journey, Jane drifted in and out of sleep. Passing through towns and villages, with their lights beginning to shine like fireflies as the sun went down, she stirred at their bawdy chatter and wondered about their lives. Farmers and labourers wandered the streets with confidence, shouting to one another, whilst the clatter of blacksmiths’ tools provided an undercurrent of percussion through every settlement. A few turned towards the carriage out of curiosity. Jane admired the women the most, for they seemed entirely carefree. Even those who were laden down with the pawing hands of many children appeared to be content with their life, unrestrained by social etiquette and the pressures of the elite.

  In truth, she was unfamiliar with anything beyond her former world of Egremont Hall, so every new sound and location felt scary and wonderful, all at once.

  It was a feast for the eyes and ears, making her all the more eager for the life she was about to embark on.

  What will James’ family be like? she wondered, as he slept on the velvet squab beside her. Will they like me? She hoped they would, for her heart was good and her character was kind. Her love for their son could only add towards making a good first impression.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  She awoke, in the pitch darkness of the carriage interior, to James shaking her gently. A full moon hung low outside the small window, swollen with silver light that shone down on a silent universe, entirely alien to Jane’s sensibilities. An owl hooted in the distance, the sound chilling to her ears. There was a sad cadence to it that crept uncomfortably through her veins.

  James helped her out of the carriage, his strong hand taking her slender fingertips. Beneath her boots, gravel crunched in an oddly comforting manner. It reminded her of the driveway at Egremont Hall, and the way carriage wheels would rattle through the gathered stones. Her home was a long way away now, but it remained close in her mind, always.

  Although the silvery moonshine lit up most of the landscape in a cold glow, Jane could not make out the surroundings of the house. Even the house itself was mostly cast in shadow, aside from a few burning lamps in some of the windows. The building was far larger than she had anticipated, and appeared to be made of sandstone, for it held a certain gleam in the darkness. Balustrades surrounded the top ledge of the roof, where lions and gargoyles perched at frequent intervals.

  They were fearsome in the night’s gloom, eliciting nightmarish visions in Jane’s head of creatures creeping into the bedchambers and hallways, using the windows to claw their way inside.

  “Are you well, my love?” James asked.

  “I am, my dear. I am simply fatigued after such a lengthy journey, atop such excitement.”

  He smiled and pressed his lips to her hand.

  “You are home, Lady Waterford. I trust you will be happy here, with me. It may not seem very impressive in the darkness, but as soon as the sun rises, you will see this manor in all its glory.”

  “I trust that I shall.”
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  A bustling flurry of staff awaited them upon the steps of Waterford House, tired eyes peering at Jane as they bowed and curtseyed with weary limbs. Several of the footmen looked as though they had jumped out of bed mere minutes ago, which Jane supposed they had. The man at the guard-house had evidently ridden on ahead, to inform the household that their master was returning.

  However, upon entering the house, Jane found the entrance hall devoid of a welcome party. Instead, she let her eyes rest upon the grand foyer, with a domed roof of glass curving overhead, revealing the stars that twinkled in the vast black velvet of night. A glittering chandelier took centre stage, with crystals chiming against one another as a cold gust from outside swept into the house. It was far more beautiful than the entrance hall at Egremont.

  The wallpaper was patterned in cream and gold fleur-de-lis, with a border of pale, varnished wood. Golden sconces bore dimmed oil lamps, that set a romantic air about the place, while plush fur rugs covered the parquet floor. Tapestries and oil paintings, showing angels and cherubs as they played amongst the clouds, hung from every wall, rich with colour and character.

  “Do you like it, my love?” James came to stand at her side.

  “Very much indeed,” she replied, half-breathless with awe. “Are your family not presently at home?”

  “They will be in their beds. You shall meet them in the morning, over breakfast, where introductions may be far more civilised.”

  He cast her an irreverent look that made her heart beat faster. How have I found myself with a gentleman such as this? How have I been gifted with a love so wonderful?

  Jane leant against his arm, relishing the solidity of him.

  “I am rather tired myself.”

  “Surely not,” he murmured, turning her towards him. “For you and I are yet to enjoy our wedding night.”

  Her cheeks burned as he tilted her chin upwards.

  “But I am so very tired, my love,” she said.