Saving a scoundrel, p.1
Saving a Scoundrel, page 1
Saving a Scoundrel
A Maidens of Marbury Romance
Karla Kratovil
Saving a Scoundrel
Copyright© 2022 Karla Kratovil
EPUB Edition
The Tule Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
First Publication by Tule Publishing 2022
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-957748-31-3
Keep Up with your Favorite Authors and their New Releases
For the latest news from Tule Publishing authors, sign up for our newsletter here or check out our website at TulePublishing.com
Stay social! For new release updates, behind-the-scenes sneak peeks, and reader giveaways:
Like us on
Follow us on
Follow us on
See you online!
Dedication
For Ken, always my hero.
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
The Maidens of Marbury series
About the Author
Prologue
December 1824
Eleanor Spencer wrapped her friend Olivia in a tight embrace as her friend wept against her shoulder. She rubbed soothing circles on Olivia’s back because there was nothing she could say to fix the situation. No words that could erase the grief. So she stood with her feet braced and her back strong and tried to absorb some of her friend’s sorrow.
Ellie glanced up as the door opened. Three other women came into the small chamber. Charlotte, Susanna, and Sophia quickly surrounded them. Charlotte wrapped her arms around them both, Susanna patted and clucked soothing nonsense, and Sophia handed Olivia an embroidered handkerchief. The Miss M’s always showed up for each other.
Olivia’s tear-stained face lifted, and she reached for the handkerchief with a loud sniffle. “I’m so sorry. I thought I could make it through this morning with some composure.”
Ellie smoothed back the hair from Olivia’s brow. “Don’t you dare apologize for your feelings. We are here for you, whatever you need. Even if it’s just my shoulder to cry on.”
Olivia’s husband’s sudden death had devastated all of them. Vibrant, good-natured Henry had been the perfect husband. Easy to get along with and independent. He had spent much of his time in London but knew his wife preferred the country and never insisted she come and entertain for him as so many ladies of the ton must do. Whenever Olivia needed him, though, Henry would come running. The two of them had been the best of friends since childhood.
Ellie brushed away her own tears. Poor Henry had died in a terrible carriage accident last week. His body was brought home to Marbury to be buried in the family plot. He had no other family other than his wife, and they had no children. What would happen to Olivia now? Ellie tucked that worry away for another time.
The door opened once more, and her father swept into the room. His black vestment swirled around his legs. Edgar Spencer exuded the calm, serious demeanor one would expect from a man of the cloth. His gaze traveled over the ladies, landing on Olivia, taking stock of her red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face. “Do you need a few more minutes, my dear? I think most everyone is seated.”
Olivia pulled in a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’m as ready as I will ever be.”
*
Ellie paced back and forth in front of her mother’s gravestone, pulling her cloak tighter around her to stave off the cold wind. She’d sat quiet and still during the ceremony, Olivia’s hand held tight in hers. But the more she thought about the carriage accident and how life was so fragile, this terrible feeling of disquiet began to grow. She thought if she came to see her mother, it might ease this terrible tightness in her chest.
Most of the guests had conveyed their condolences and dispersed. Across the churchyard, Charlotte and her husband Daniel stood deep in conversation by a large oak tree. Then her friend wrapped her arms around him. Daniel’s forehead dropped to his wife’s shoulder, and she smoothed her hand over his hair and down his back. Everyone dealt with death in different ways. How nice it was to have someone to console you when you needed comfort.
She turned on her heel and paced back in the other direction. She had no such person in her life, and it was entirely her fault. Cautious to a fault, she took comfort in her routines, her small but safe universe. Ellie blew out a long breath. Who was she fooling? She was a coward. She had never left Marbury. She only traveled to faraway places through her books. She never disobeyed her father. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had danced all night at Charlotte’s betrothal party last spring. She loved to dance. Her father disapproved of unmarried ladies dancing with men they barely knew. Ellie sighed. The Reverend Spencer disapproved of many things.
She ran a hand over the top of her mother’s headstone. Perhaps if her mother had still been around to deflect her father’s lectures and disapproving looks, Ellie would have grown up with more courage. The kind of courage that led the heroines in her books straight into adventure and love. It’s not that she didn’t know love. On the contrary, she had tumbled into love at the tender age of fourteen. Perhaps if she weren’t such a coward, she wouldn’t have spent the last ten years pining for her best friend’s brother.
“Ellie, what are you doing out here? Except most likely freezing your fingers and toes off.”
She spun around to face the owner of that deep voice. Charlotte’s older brother Lucius Grisham stood a few away, his blond hair whipping around his face. He held his bare hands up in front of his mouth and blew warm air on them. His green eyes twinkled with good humor. Ellie blinked slowly twice. Had she conjured him somehow just by thinking about him?
Frowning, she pointed to the pocket of his jacket where his gloves peeked out. “Why don’t you put on your gloves, you foolish man? And where is your hat?”
Lucius glanced down and then grinned. “Oh, yes, I forgot those were there.” He pulled them out. “That doesn’t answer my question. What are you doing out in this cold pacing back and forth like a madwoman?”
“Just thinking, I guess.” She glanced down the hill to where a man she didn’t recognize was helping Olivia into her carriage. “Do you know who that is? The man with Olivia?”
Lucius turned. “A good friend of Rivenhall. I’ve seen the two of them together in town often enough.”
The man climbed into the carriage with Olivia. How odd, Ellie had never met Henry’s friend before. After the carriage rolled away, the churchyard was quiet; anyone left having taken refuge back inside the church. Ellie turned back to her mother’s gravestone. For once, Lucius seemed content to be quiet, and Ellie appreciated his company.
Emily Spencer had been kind and graceful. She loved to sing and give hugs. When she was a child, Ellie danced and danced while her mother sang. Her mother died when she was twelve years old. With her death, so much of the joy in their family died with her. Her father stopped laughing and playing the piano. There had been so many rules; rules to keep Ellie safe, rules to follow to become a proper young lady. Would she have become a different person if her mother still lived? Would she be bolder, more confident?
A gust of wind rustled the flaps of her cloak, and she shivered. Lucius stepped close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His body blocking most of the wind. “What are you thinking about, kitten?”
Ellie grimaced at her childhood nickname. Lucius was the only one that still used it. The silly moniker just proved how he still viewed her, simply as a childhood friend. She sighed. “How life is too short for some. How if I died tomorrow, I would look back and see that I’ve not done anything with my life. Just existed from day to day, but I never chased any of my dreams.”
“Hey now, that is some heavy thinking.” He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s never too late to chase your dreams. At least, I hope not. Otherwise, my life will have been a waste as well.”
Ellie turned to face him. His hand dropped to rub up and down her back.
Lucius’s lips quirked up into a wry smile. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ellie.”
She stared up at his familiar face. Her gaze traveled over his elegantly arched eyebrows, green eyes, a long straight nose, and that square jaw. All parts that should be entirely ordinary, but she’d loved his face for an eon. She thought him impossibly handsome. Not that he would ever know.
Coward.
Her first instinct was to step back with a clever, self-deprecating quip. But Ellie shook off that instinct. Not today. Today she would take a risk. She was twenty-four years old and had never kissed a man. Olivia was the same age and had been married and widowed already. Ellie had waited years for Lucius to be her first kiss, but she would wait no more. She slid her hands up and grasped the lapels of his wool coat.
Those green eyes widened, and one eyebrow rose in question.
Gathering her courage, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. She had no idea how to kiss someone, but his lips were warm despite the cold, and she found kissing him to be quite pleasant. Ellie tilted her head and brushed her lips across his again. His hand at her back stilled. She dared to glance up and meet his startled gaze. But, oh Lord, what was she doing? Ellie pulled back fractionally, her eyelids fluttered closed in embarrassment.
Then the hand at her back flexed, and Lucius pulled her hard against him. His other hand rose to frame her face, and he kissed her. Really kissed her.
A pulse of pleasurable heat raced through her as his lips caressed her own. The tip of his tongue ran along her bottom lip, and Ellie’s lips parted at his wordless request. He changed the angle of the kiss, his wicked tongue tangling with hers. Ellie was no longer cold, nor confused, nor sad. There was nothing but the heat of his kiss and his intoxicating scent of lemon soap and tobacco.
His thumb gently rubbed across her cheek just before he pulled back. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Well, that was a surprise.”
Ellie opened her eyes slowly. She wanted to savor the last moments of her first kiss before she had to face what she had just done. She had kissed Lucius Grisham! It had been everything she’d dreamed it would be. But now, Lucius looked down at her with soft concern.
All of her breath left her body in one long whoosh. Her face was on fire. Lord, what had she done? What could she say to him? Panic fluttered in her throat, and like the coward she was, she turned and fled across the frozen churchyard.
Chapter One
April 1825
“Where is Susanna?” Ellie grumbled. Her frayed nerves were raw from shock. The discussion with her father had thrown her into a panic. Married? How could she marry a man she barely knew?
“Here she is,” Charlotte said.
Ellie looked over at the door to the library. Susanna glided into the room with several books clutched in her arms. “Sorry that I’m late. I was gathering some books to share. Everything is in an uproar at home as my mother prepares to leave for London.” She plopped into a chair.
Charlotte smiled serenely. “Don’t worry, that’s to be expected.” She passed Susanna a cup of tea. Charlotte was ever the gracious hostess. And since she married last year and had her own household, she loved having everyone over to sit in her library for their book club. The book club was really more of a book-lending club. They each read what they wanted, and then at the monthly meeting, they shared what they had enjoyed and passed along any good books to one of the others.
“Ellie has some big news she needs to discuss. She is jittery as a jackrabbit.” Olivia gestured to Ellie.
Normally she would protest the description, but Ellie glanced down at the teacup in her hand, and it indeed shook. She set it down on the table and glanced around at her friends. Charlotte, with her wide green eyes, the same color as her brother’s, always had a happy glow about her these days. Olivia still looked a bit pale and drawn, as though she wasn’t sleeping well. Sophia sat next to her, calm and serene as usual. The newest member of their circle of friends, she still was an enigma.
Susanna leaned forward eagerly, her long gold earrings swinging gently. “What news?”
Ellie took a deep breath in. “My father wants me to marry his new curate, Mr. Evans. He thinks it would be a sensible match.”
“Somber, pious, Mr. Evans?” Susanna scrunched her nose. “No. No, I forbid it.”
“Unfortunately, I hardly think your opinion matters to my father.” Ellie slumped back against the settee.
“Mr. Evans seems a nice gentleman. I don’t find him somber, just quiet and introspective.” Charlotte shot Susanna a disapproving look. “What exactly did your father say, Ellie?”
“He asked what my opinion of Mr. Evans was. And of course, I was polite and replied that he was quite nice. And that’s when my father said wouldn’t it be a good idea for me to marry Mr. Evans? Mr. Evans could take over as vicar when he retires. I would make the perfect pastor’s wife, and wouldn’t that all work out perfectly?” Ellie glanced around at her friends. “I just sat there and nodded like a good little girl. But the little voice in my head was screaming in denial.” She covered her face with her hands.
Her whole life flashed before her eyes. Quietly living in Marbury, catering to her husband and father, raising a brood of kids. No adventures, no romance, no traveling. Ellie put a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Self-pity was unattractive. Her father was a kind and generous man; he only wanted for her to be settled and happy. But Mr. Evans? He was so very boring.
Charlotte moved closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Ellie, I know exactly how you feel. You must tell your father you’re not sure. Tell him how you feel.”
“I agree,” Olivia said. “Your father is a dear; he wouldn’t make you marry if he thought you would be unhappy.”
“Can she go against her father’s wishes?” Sophia asked. “I know I was not able to when I married. A father’s word is law in Italy.”
“Technically, it is the same here. But Ellie is old enough at twenty-four that she can marry someone without her father’s consent,” Olivia explained. “Not that I’m suggesting you go against your father’s wishes. Just that you should speak to him about your true feelings toward Mr. Evans.”
Susanna snapped her fingers. “No, that’s it! She doesn’t have to marry Mr. Evans if she could find someone better.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “And who exactly would that be? It’s not like I have men waiting around the corner to woo me. Mr. Evans is the only unmarried man under thirty-five in Marbury anyhow. It’s hardly a hotbed for eligible gentlemen.”
Susanna’s smile grew. “Just leave it to me, dear. I have a plan brewing.” She tapped her temple.
“Uh oh,” Charlotte said.
Despite her anxiety, Ellie giggled. She glanced up and caught Olivia’s eye, and Olivia giggled as well.
Susanna huffed and crossed her arms at their laughter. “It’s a great idea. I just need to work out some details.”
“Your great ideas always lead to trouble.” Charlotte arched a dark eyebrow. “Whose great idea sent Daniel and me tumbling into the lake during my party last spring?”
“I will admit that plan was flawed.” Susanna bit down on her lower lip. “But I absolutely will not let Eleanor settle for Mr. Evans.”
Ellie sighed. “I don’t know; perhaps I should marry Mr. Evans. I do love Marbury, and it’s always been my home. Being the pastor’s wife is a respectable position in local society. I would be near all of you, dear friends.”
“But what about love? What about your plans for 1825 being your year of adventure?” Susanna prodded.
Ellie felt tears burn at the back of her eyes. It was a terrible, wonderful thing when your friends could clearly see all your secret wishes and not let you give up on them. All the things she had scribbled down last December after Henry’s funeral. Wishes she would have to pack away now. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she glanced around at the concern on her friends’ faces. “Please excuse me. I just need a moment.” Ellie rose and hurried from the room.
