Hearts to Be Mended

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter One − Hope

  Chapter Two − A New Plan

  Chapter Three − Know Thy Enemy

  Chapter Four − Honourable Intentions

  Chapter Five − Doubts

  Chapter Six − Old Friends

  Chapter Seven − A House Party

  Chapter Eight − Jealousy

  Chapter Nine − The Truth of the Matter

  Chapter Ten − A Love Once Lost

  Chapter Eleven − Not Gone Forever

  Chapter Twelve − Love Trumps Rules

  Chapter Thirteen − A Blessing Long Awaited

  Epilogue

  About Bree

  Also By Bree

  Read a Sneak-peek

  Prologue

  #1 Forgotten & Remembered

  Overview A Forbidden Love Novella Series

  Overview Love's Second Chance Series

  Bree's Belles of the Ball

  Hearts to Be Mended

  (#6 A Forbidden Love Novella Series)

  by Bree Wolf

  Hearts to Be Mended

  by Bree Wolf

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, brands, media, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Victoria Cooper

  Copyright © 2018 Sabrina Wolf

  www.breewolf.com/

  All Rights Reserved

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  To My Sister

  May Life Always Have Us Walking Side by Side

  Acknowledgments

  As always, my family is my greatest support and inspiration, and I know I wouldn't be able to zone out and write as I do if it weren't for all of you.

  Over the past two years, many readers have reached out to me, offering their own support and inspiration, and I'm so immensely grateful for that. Without you, I'm sure certain ideas would never have found me and been turned into stories.

  To name only a few of those great people: Michelle Chenoweth, Monique Taken, Zan-Mari Kiousi, Tray-Ci Roberts, Kim Bougher, Vicki Goodwin, Denise Boutin, Elizabeth Greenwood, Corinne Lehmann, Lynn Herron, Karen Semones, Maria DB, Kim O'Shea, Tricia Toney, Deborah Montiero, Keti Vezzu, Patty Michinko, Lynn Smith, Vera Mallard, Isabella Nanni, Carol Bisig, Susan Czaja, Teri Donaldson, Anna Jimenez and Tammy Windsor.

  About the Book

  She is in love.

  So is he.

  If only it were as simple as that.

  LADY ELEANOR ABBOTT is in love. However, the one man who manages to send her heart into an uproar with a single smoldering look is the one man she is forbidden to marry. As the fifth son of a baron, the man who conquered Eleanor’s heart is not the match her mother wants her to make. Instead, Eleanor finds herself faced with an endless stream of appropriate suitors and under stern instructions to choose a suitable husband before the season’s end.

  HENRY WALTHAM, fifth son of Baron Caulfield, has always considered himself fortunate to have grown up in a close-knit family. However, now that his brother’s less than respectable reputations ruin his every chance to marry the woman he loves, Henry finds himself torn between simply whisking her off to Gretna Green - and let propriety be damned! - and the deep desire to prove himself an honourable man.

  However, not everything is as it seems, and soon Eleanor and Henry realise that the key to their future can only be found in the past.

  Prologue

  London, November 1818

  Eight Months Ago

  Inhaling deeply, Eleanor felt her mind slowly return from the depths of slumber. Her limbs were heavy as she lay under the warm blanket, the softness of her pillow gently cradling her cheek. Although her eyes had not yet opened, she knew that it was dark around her. Not a single ray of light touched her being, and she vaguely found herself wondering what was happening.

  Was she still dreaming? Her languid mind marvelled before the howling wind echoed to her ears and she heard the faint, yet, distinct sounds of a storm not too far off.

  Step by step, her senses returned and she regained control over her body. Sighing, Eleanor brushed a hand over her face, seeking to chase away the last remnants of sleep that made her mind heavy.

  Then she stopped, wide eyes staring into the darkness above her, and listened.

  Someone was breathing nearby.

  She was not alone.

  Who had come to her room at night? Eleanor wondered as goose bumps rose on her skin and a cold chill crawled down her spine. And without announcing themselves? Was there some kind of emergency?

  No, that couldn’t be it. Surely, if there was, someone would have woken her.

  Taking a deep breath, Eleanor allowed her hand to slide from her face, her eyes immediately falling on the shadowed figure sitting on the side of her bed.

  A gasp tore from Eleanor’s throat as adrenaline shot through her, and she immediately tried to scoot away.

  “Hush, Darling,” her mother’s voice whispered. “Everything’s all right. Go back to sleep.”

  Blinking, Eleanor stared into the dark. “Mother?” she whispered, shaken to her core, unable to make sense of this new development.

  Never had her mother come to her room. Never had her voice sounded so…

  Eleanor blinked, trying to see through the dark. Squinting her eyes, she could make out her mother’s face, her head almost slumped forward as she sat with her hands folded in her lap.

  As the wind pushed the clouds onward, the moon’s silvery rays momentarily touched her mother’s face, and Eleanor could see that she had been crying as the faint light seemed to set her face aglow, the path her tears had taken glistening in the dark.

  Swallowing, Eleanor sat up, uncertain as to what to do.

  While Eleanor had always felt closest to her late father, who had been a caring and compassionate man, an easy smile on his face and kindness in his voice, she knew very well that her mother’s as well as her brother’s cold and distant demeanour did not speak of an unkind soul. They, too, felt emotions deeply, but did not possess the ability to share them with the people around them.

  As a young girl, unhindered by society’s restrictions, Eleanor had managed to coax her brother, who was almost fifteen years her senior, into showing his affection for her more openly. He had smiled at her, pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, his eyes lighting up with delight. Over the years, as they had both grown older, he had come to show more restraint with regard to portraying his emotions. And yet, Eleanor did not doubt that he loved her.

  However, their mother was different. Why? Eleanor did not know. While she was not unkind, she seemed cold and distant. Never had Eleanor seen her laugh, truly laugh because her heart had been touched. Neither had she ever seen her cry, not even when her husband had died.

  Although her mother had never given any indication, Eleanor knew from her father’s open portrayal of affection that theirs had not been a marriage of convenience. And yet, despite the love and loss her mother had to have felt, she had not shed a single tear upon his death, never revealing what lived in her heart.

  Eleanor did not know why, but it had made her fearful for her mother.

  Seeing her now sitting at her bedside in the middle of the night with tears streaming down her face terrified Eleanor to her core, m
ore so than discovering an intruder in her room would have.

  “Mother?” she whispered, slowly reaching out a hand. “Are you all right?”

  Clearing her throat, her mother drew in a shaky breath. Then she lifted her head. “Everything is fine.” Nodding her head, she hesitantly reached out her own hand and gently grasped Eleanor’s. “Go back to sleep.”

  “What’s wrong?” Eleanor asked, torn between fear of what had happened and the desperate desire to see her mother show emotion…any emotion…if they were real…and true…and honest.

  “Do not worry yourself,” her mother replied, her hand squeezing Eleanor’s, as a hard determination came to her voice. “No matter what happens, I shall protect you. You have my word.”

  Staring at her mother, Eleanor found herself unable to react as Lady Stanhope rose to her feet, then gently brushed a hand over her daughter’s cheek and left without another look back.

  As her hands began to tremble, Eleanor sank back into her pillows, her wide eyes staring into the distance as her mind tried to make sense of what had happened.

  But what had in fact happened?

  Once again, her mother had not dared to reveal anything at all, leaving everyone around her in the dark. What had brought on this emotional reaction? There had to have been a reason. Could it have had anything to do with Corinne’s departure?

  After her cousin’s parents had been killed in a robbery ten years ago, Corinne had come to live with them and easily found her way into their family, for all intents and purposes a new sister. And yet, Eleanor’s mother had shown her the same cold detachment that she showed everyone else. Could Corinne’s departure truly have affected her so? Or was there another reason?

  Closing her eyes, Eleanor sighed, knowing that her mother would never share with her what had truly happened that night, what had brought on the first tears she had ever shed since Eleanor could remember.

  No, her mother would handle this alone as she handled everything else.

  Chapter One − Hope

  London, July 1819

  Eight Months Later

  Her brother’s wedding was a rather intimate affair as it broke one of society’s utmost rules and neither he nor his bride wished to see disapproving faces on their wedding day. The only exception was their mother, Lady Stanhope, whom her brother could hardly have not invited.

  However, even alone, their mother’s scowl managed to dampen the joyous atmosphere that such an occasion usually conjured. With her arms crossed and her lips pressed into a thin line, she glared at the happy couple exchanging their vows, mumbling under her breath and shaking her head in disapproval. “Unbelievable! The nerve of that woman.”

  Eleanor sighed. “They seem happy,” she whispered, dreading the war that would soon be waged within her brother’s household.

  “She is a widow!” her mother hissed, turning cold eyes on Eleanor. “Her late husband has been dead not even half a year. Do not tell me you approve of this! Can you not see the scandal they are bringing on themselves? What if she is with child?” Closing her eyes at such a horrendous possibility, Lady Stanhope shook her head. “I never thought he would allow a woman to make such a fool of him. I always thought he had more sense.”

  Inhaling deeply, Eleanor said, “Love doesn’t make sense. It simply is, no matter the circumstances.”

  Feeling her mother tense beside her, Eleanor kept her gaze fixed on the happy couple, hoping with all her heart that one day she would be equally blessed…and yet, her mother’s unyielding gaze instantly crushed the small spark of hope that had still managed to survive despite everything that had happened.

  If only, Eleanor thought, knowing her wish to be futile.

  After the ceremony, they all returned to the townhouse for the wedding breakfast where they were met by a rather small number of close friends. While most had been taken aback when her brother, the new Earl of Stanhope, had declared his intentions to marry Diana Reignold less than half a year after her late husband’s demise, some had been able to see past societal restrictions and focus on the glowing faces of the newly-weds.

  “They do look happy, do they not?”

  At the sound of his voice, Eleanor spun around, her heart hammering in her chest as though it was about to burst. “Henry?” she gasped, feeling the familiar weakening of her knees and the excited flutter in her stomach at the mere sight of him. “What are you doing here?” Glancing around, she found her mother’s gaze fixed on them, deep-seated anger burning in her eyes.

  “Your brother invited me.”

  Jerking her head back to the man she loved, Eleanor stared at him. “He did what? Truly?” Instantly, her heart warmed, and she could not keep the smile off her face.

  “Are you glad to see me?” Henry asked, his warm brown eyes holding hers as he stepped closer, his hand reaching for hers.

  Eleanor swallowed as his fingers brushed over her skin. “I am,” she whispered, and her breath caught in her throat. As always, she marvelled at the effect his mere presence had on her and knew in that moment that she could never bring herself to marry another man. “However, I’m afraid my mother is not.”

  Instantly, his face sobered as he glanced over her shoulder. “I suppose it is safe to say that she despises me even more now.” Gritting his teeth, he shook his head, then once more met Eleanor’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to convince her that my intentions are honourable.” He inhaled deeply. “I am not my brothers.”

  “I know,” Eleanor whispered, torn between utter joy at seeing Henry so unexpectedly and the hopelessness of their situation.

  “Your brother promised to speak to her on our behalf,” Henry replied, a touch of hope in his voice. “Do you suppose he can be successful where we were not?”

  Eleanor sighed, “I wish I could believe so,” she admitted, the deflated expression on his face breaking her heart, “but I fear that no one and nothing on the face of the earth will be able to change her mind.” A lump settled in her throat, choking her words, as tears came to her eyes. “I fear this is hopeless.” Shaking her head, she met his eyes. “Maybe we should simply accept that we shall never marry. Maybe you should try and find someone el−”

  “There is no one else!” he all but snarled, his eyes determined as they held hers. “There’s only you. Don’t ever doubt that. If I cannot marry you, I shall remain a bachelor until the end of my days.”

  A deep smile came to Eleanor’s face at his vehement declaration, and yet, her heart filled with sorrow for if he did not let her go, he would forever remain trapped in this place where happiness was just around the corner, but always out of reach.

  Swallowing, Henry took a deep breath before his hands closed more tightly around hers. “Your brother has given his consent,” he whispered, and she could read the question in his eyes.

  “I cannot,” Eleanor replied, her voice low as though ashamed of what she had to say, and again, the look on his face broke her heart. “I’m so sorry, but I cannot go against my mother’s wishes.”

  “Why?” he demanded, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

  Eleanor shrugged, unable to explain that quiet fear that had lived in her heart ever since that night her mother had come to sit at her bed. Glancing over her shoulder, she met her mother’s gaze, her own searching, and despite the anger and disapproval Eleanor saw there, she also detected a touch of fear.

  Fear of what? She wondered, knowing even if she asked, her mother would not explain. Was she wrong to seek to protect a woman who so vehemently and without giving an explanation denied Eleanor her own happiness?

  She’s your mother, a quiet voice whispered. No matter what has happened, she loves you and only seeks to protect you.

  But from what? Eleanor wondered yet again.

  “Has not your brother done exactly what you will not?” Henry asked, his gaze shifting to the newly-weds. “He’s married a woman your mother disapproves of. Is this not the same?”

  Taking a deep brea
th, Eleanor shook her head. “I’m sorry. I cannot explain. There’s something…I….” Swallowing, she closed her eyes, wishing that there was a way for her to explain.

  She does not look at him the way she looks at me, Eleanor thought. There is no fear there, only disapproval and anger over his choice, but not...

  “We shall not give up,” Henry vowed, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand as his gaze held hers. “We shall never give up.”

  Eleanor nodded as his open love made her heart soar. “If you insist.”

  A small smile touched his lips. “I’m afraid I must, my lady, for my life would be empty without you.”

  ***

  Returning home, Henry exhaled loudly as he found his brothers lounging in the drawing room. While the three eldest, Stephen, Andrew and Owen, appeared to have only just returned from yet another night about town, Nick once more sat in the armchair by the window, a drink in his hand, his eyes focused outside, and yet unseeing, a dark cloud hanging over his head.

  “Where have you been so early, little Brother?” Stephen demanded, a slight sway in his step as he came walking over. “Or are you only getting home now?” An insinuating gleam came to his eyes as Andrew and Owen hooted in delight.

  Squaring his shoulders, Henry met his eldest brother’s gaze. “I was at Lord Stanhope’s wedding,” he replied, open disapproval in his voice. “Not everyone begins their day at noon.”

  Stephen chortled, “While that may be true, I assure you our way is much more fun.”

  While Andrew and Owen openly expressed their support for Stephen’s statement, Nick remained quiet, his face pale, his clothes dishevelled as he had probably been sleeping in them yet again. What had happened to his brother?

  “Nevertheless,” Henry began, fixing his three elder brothers with a stern gaze, “I would appreciate it if you could refrain from making your escapades public knowledge…at least for the moment.”