The Forgotten Marquess

  The Forgotten Marquess

  Jane Charles

  Copyright

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The Forgotten Marquess

  Copyright © 2019 by Jane Charles

  Individual Cover Design by Lily Smith

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  EXCERPT – KISSING THE LASS

  Also by Jane Charles

  About Jane Charles

  Prologue

  Cornwall, March, 1812

  “I forbid you to go!”

  Elaina Trent wheeled around, hands on her hips and pierced her husband with a glare. “Forbid me?”

  Tristan Trent, Marquess of Hopkins, knew immediately he’d said the wrong thing, but Elaina was not accepting reason. “It’s too dangerous. It’s bloody France, for God’s sake.”

  “It’s where my family is,” she argued.

  “You’re family lives at Wyndhill Park, outside of Farnham, Surrey, England.”

  Elaina blew out a sigh. “My brothers live at Wyndhill Park. I wish to see my grandmother.”

  A grandmother who also happened to live in Dinan, France, currently ruled by Napoleon and at war with England. “Elaina, please understand, it’s too dangerous.”

  “Not for me.”

  “What of my children. It’s dangerous for them,” Tristan continued to argue.

  “Our children, and I’ll protect them. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to Paris or Calais. I’m sailing into Saint-Malo and will travel to Dinan from there.”

  “Elaina, please delay your holiday. I have a feeling…”

  “You just hate that I wish to do something for myself. Something that is important to me that doesn’t meet with your approval.”

  Tristan sucked in a breath. Was he really so controlling? Certainly not. Since their marriage, Elaina had been free to do what she wished, and go where she desired, such as visiting her brothers or off to London or Bath with her friends, often without Tristan, as he couldn’t always get away. However, none of those places were France in the middle of a war. “If this is so important, why aren’t your brothers going?”

  “Lucian can’t be pulled away from the estate at this time. Xavier cannot leave his studies in Edinburgh, Micah is with his regiment, Asher is in his last term, and Silas is at Eton.”

  “If this is so important, at least one of them would accompany you.”

  “They don’t know her,” Elaina screamed back in frustration.

  “Of course, they know her. She’s their grandmother as well.”

  Elaina rubbed her temples as if a headache was coming on. “Not like I do,” Elaina ground out. “They have met our grandparents twice in their life. Twice.”

  Tristan took a step back at her anger.

  “When our parents died, Lucian was still at Eton and my younger brothers were allowed to remain at Wyndhill Park with their tutors until they could also attend Eton. I, however, was sent to my grandparents in Dinan because the guardian wasn’t certain what to do with a girl. After all, it was the sons, more specifically, Lucian and Xavier who mattered.”

  Tristan knew that Elaina had been sent to her grandparents and lived there from the time she was thirteen until she was seventeen. He’d just never realized the impact the separation had on her, or that her relationship with her grandparents was different from that of her siblings.

  “Grandmother took the place of my mother.” Tears welled in Elaina’s eyes. “She was all I had after my parents were gone and I’d been taken from my home.”

  A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and for perhaps the first time, Tristan realized how painful that time of her life must have been, and why being with her grandmother before she was gone was so important.

  “I couldn’t go back when grandfather died because it happened so quickly, and now that Grandmother is failing, I need to go.”

  Tristan took her hands in his. He understood. He truly did. And in any other circumstance, he would have moved heaven and earth to grant his wife this request. Except in this instance, every part of his being warned that Elaina should not sail to France. A feeling of foreboding, the likes of which he’s never experienced before, had settled into the pit of his stomach at the first announcement of her intentions and it wasn’t something he’d been able to push aside. He couldn’t even explain it to himself, and he could not allow his wife and children to board a ship. “She’ll understand why you can’t attend her and she’d not wish for you to put yourself or the children in danger. I am certain that once you explain in a letter...”

  Elaina yanked her hands from his. “I will not simply write a letter.” She wheeled away, her arms gesturing madly toward the ceiling. “What do you suppose I write? I’m sorry you are dying, but unfortunately, I’m not allowed to take a holiday at this time. I’ll remember you fondly.”

  Now she was screaming, which was very uncharacteristic for his wife. They’d had arguments in the past, several actually, but not to this extent.

  “You are not being reasonable,” Tristan ground out.

  “You are being a tyrant. What else must I have permission for, my lord?”

  “I only want my family safe.” Now he was yelling, and this would get them nowhere. If anything, it would cause Elaina to dig her heels in further. She was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met.

  “Tristan, I need to see my grandmother,” her tone softened. “I want her to meet my children before it’s too late.” A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye.

  Elaina wasn’t one to cry unless she was truly upset, usually angry, and she’d never been one to use tears in a manner to get around him, so he knew how important this trip was to her. He just couldn’t allow it, no matter how much she pleaded or begged.

  “They are infants. You can’t take them across the Channel. You might encounter the French, storms, pirates.”

  “And you believe I’m fanciful,” Elaina snorted. “When was the last time pirates sailed between here and there?” Elaina laughed.

  “Privateers, then. T
hey are a serious concern. Harrison has written of them, Elaina. It is not a fanciful notion.”

  “Harrison’s ship is the one giving us passage.”

  Harrison, his younger brother, had taken to sailing once he’d completed his education. Instead of joining the navy, Harrison gained a position on a merchant ship to learn the trade with every intention of owning his own ship one day. That was nearly five years ago, and Harrison had been saving his earnings for the day he’d captain a merchant vessel.

  Shock rocked through him after her words sank in. “You are traveling on a merchant ship?” The very idea was outrageous. “And the captain of Harrison’s ship agreed to this? Can a merchant ship even get within sight of France without being shot at?” Except, Tristan was fairly certain that the ship was a smuggling vessel more than a merchant ship. Regardless, if stopped by the French, it would be confiscated, detained…anything could happen and who was to say the French wouldn’t try to sink her.

  “The trip is short, and we will be safe with him,” Elaina insisted.

  “Until you’re not.” Tristan thrust his fingers through his hair. As soon as his brother returned, Tristan intended to have a long talk with Harrison because Elaina was not getting on that ship. “Forget Napoleon and privateers, they are dangerous enough. Have you forgotten smugglers?” The dangers of making this voyage were endless, especially if his wife and children had gained passage on a smuggling vessel, except he was certain Elaina didn’t know the true purpose of Harrison’s employer.

  This time she looked at him as if he was insane when he was quite certain that it was Elaina who was not in her right mind. Then again, Elaina had a way of driving him to Bedlam.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “So you’ve insisted, but I still intend to go. With or without your permission.”

  He knew she was stubborn when they married, but he’d never seen Elaina fight so hard for something she wanted. And, if he were being honest with himself, Tristan usually gave into her requests. However, this time he would not. There was no way he was going to allow his wife and children to sail to France. Not in the middle of a bloody war or across a body of water where they could encounter a French ship.

  The clock in the foyer chimed.

  “We’ll discuss this when I return. I have a meeting with my solicitors. I should only be gone a fortnight at the most.”

  As his trunks were already packed and loaded onto his carriage, Tristan stomped out of the parlor and prayed that his wife would come to her senses before her returned.

  Except, when he returned home, she was already gone. Having defied him, Elaina and the children sailed for France the day after his departure to London.

  She never returned.

  Chapter 1

  London, May, 1815

  Tristan Trent should have never brought his sister, Sophia DeMitri, Contessa Scala, with him to London. On further thought, he should have just sent one of his brothers and remained back in Cornwall where he was most comfortable. Instead, they’d all come, save Maxwell who was on a quest in another part of the world. They’d delivered a package that had been mistakenly delivered to Hopkins Manor and meant for the other Trent family, a distant relation. Now Tristan was stuck in Town because Sophia insisted that they all partake in what remained of the Season. However, since Sophia’s pronouncement, Tristan had been abandoned by his brothers: Gideon off to Scotland, Harrison to the sea and Jamie to the horses, leaving him with only his sister, who was determined to see Tristan marry again.

  As soon as the house was opened in Mayfair, the invitations had piled up on his desk at an alarming rate. While he would have happily seen them tossed in the fire, Sophia had gleefully gone through each and determined what they’d attend. His family being in Town was a novelty, of that Tristan was aware. He’d rarely enjoyed the Season when he was younger. After he and Elaina married, their visits had been short in duration, not the weeks others attended. Once Elaina was gone, Tristan saw no purpose to coming to Town and found a new solicitor closer to his estate.

  “I really wish you would try to enjoy yourself,” Sophia complained from across the carriage.

  At her insistence, they were once again on their way to a ball. Tristin had lost count of how many she’d dragged him to since their arrival and he couldn’t wait for there to be an end. “I don’t see that it’s necessary we attend every function for which we receive an invitation.”

  “I quite agree,” Raphael, Conte Scala said from his seat beside his wife. “I wouldn’t mind an evening of nothing but brandy and a good book.”

  “Of course, dear, but we didn’t bring any fine brandy with us, but left it in Cornwall,” Sophia argued. “Besides, I didn’t accept every invitation.”

  Sophia and Scala lived in Italy, where she’d discovered the art of fine wines and developed a taste for French brandy. This was the first time she’d been back to England in nearly seven years and Tristan didn’t know how long the visit would last. That was the only reason he accompanied her about London, though not without complaint.

  “The brandy your brother has in his Townhouse will do well enough,” Scala acknowledged.

  “You accepted far more invitations than necessary,” Tristan grumbled.

  “I promise that we can all remain in tomorrow and sip brandy if you wish, but tonight is the most important ball yet.”

  Tristan and Rafe studied Sophia, who had been on edge with excitement since this afternoon.

  “Why?” he finally asked.

  “The ball is being given by Mr. and Mrs. Weston.”

  The name meant nothing to him, and Tristan slid a look to Rafe who merely shrugged.

  Sophia blew out a sigh. “The parents of one of my dearest friends, Eliza Weston.”

  “Oh, good God!” He remembered Eliza from when Sophia was a child, and their other friend, Rosemary Fairview. The three were always getting themselves into trouble at the Wiggons’ School for Elegant Young Ladies. He was surprised that they hadn’t been sent down. Had he done half of the things at Eton that those three had gotten away with at Wiggons’, he would have been expelled.

  “I haven’t seen Eliza in an age and received word this afternoon that she is in Town and will be in attendance.”

  “Well, try not to land yourself in any trouble, will you.” Tristan chuckled.

  Sophia grinned. “As Rosemary will be there as well, I cannot make any promises.”

  Tristan groaned. All three of them. As his sister was likely to be entertained by her friends, there was really no need for him to attend. Then again, it would be the one night that she’d hopefully be too busy to point out potential wives to him, so there was that. It might be the only ball where he had peace from his sister’s matchmaking.

  “Miss Fairview?” Scala questioned. “Has she returned from her travels?”

  Happiness lit in Sophia’s eyes. “Yes, she arrived in Town yesterday. This will be the first time the three of us have been together since before I left England.”

  “You’ve not seen them since?” Tristan asked.

  “I’ve seen them individually, of course, as they travel frequently, but the three of us have not been together since before I married.”

  “Have they married?” Tristan asked. “Please tell me that they have husbands to keep them out of trouble.”

  At that, Sophia frowned. “A lady does not need a gentleman to play nursery maid.” With a huff, she crossed her arms over her chest. “And, neither have married. They have no wish to relinquish the freedom they now possess.”

  “What kind of freedom do they need, exactly?”

  “Rosemary has followed in her parent’s footsteps by traveling the world. She quite enjoys hunting for antiquities.”

  “Alone?” Women should not be allowed to travel without a male escort because sometimes they didn’t come back.

  “She travels with others who are of like minds. I believe she and Maxwell have crossed paths on a number of occasions.”

  Currently t
heir brother, Maxwell was somewhere in Israel. Or, that was the last Tristan had heard. Every time his brother claimed that he was going to try and come home for a visit, something more pressing occurred keeping him away. Max was supposed to be here for Sophia’s homecoming and was unable to make the trip.

  “Where has Eliza been, if she is not married or living with her parents.”

  Sophia grinned. “She’s a famous novelist and travels for inspiration.”

  “Her last novel regarding a mummy’s curse was quite enjoyable,” Rafe offered.

  “Don’t tell me, it’s not because of…”

  “The Mayfair mummy did inspire the story,” Sophia confirmed. “Really Tristan, I’m surprised at your reaction. You were never one to tell Elaina what to do, and she traveled without you.”

  Tristan speared her with a hard look. “Yes, and because of it, she was lost at sea.” He never told anyone of the argument before Elaina left, and if a servant had overheard, they’d not gossiped. As far as the world, or at least his family was concerned, Tristan had sent Elaina and the children off to France with his blessing to visit her grandmother one last time.

  The color drained form Sophia’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean tha…I’m sorry Tristan, but it wasn’t your fault. It was a storm.”

  “I should have been with her.” He pounded a fist against the side of the carriage. Why hadn’t he just gone with her? He could have taken the time away from his estates and accompanied Elaina for one last visit with her grandmother, but he’d been too stubborn. Perhaps he could have saved her had he gone.