Untangling the Baron’s Love (Preview)

Chapter One

Stonewell’s Gentleman’s Club, 1811

Lord Adam Richardson, Baron of Waterford, pulled a handkerchief from his chest pocket, dabbing the perspiration on his upper lip and brow. It was the only evidence that indicated the state of mind he was in. I cannot lose this round, I need this win. He turned his head side to side, hearing the satisfying crack. The fellow overseeing the game leaned forward, placing his hand over the deck of cards.

“What shall it be, gentlemen? Who of you will brave the waters of Loo and play a hand, and who will fold? Or perhaps you wish to pick up a miss?”

“Just a moment, Abernethy,” said Adam. “Loo is an art form of strategy and skill. We cannot simply make a decision without the necessary thinking.”

Abernethy laughed. “As you wish, my lord, but a skilled man such as yourself need not take an hour to decide.”

Adam chuckled into his brandy, his sharp eyes falling on a tick in a fellow player’s cheek. Lord Brommel, would that be proof of your bad hand or a trick win? If only he knew the man well enough. The young man had suddenly come upon the scene at Stonewell’s sporting a rather large inheritance that had sent London tongues wagging. The Season was due to begin in just a matter of days and judging by the young man’s fair appearance and enviable fortune, he would have the loveliest selection of women batting their eyelashes at him.

“Lord Brommel, will you be attending the Season this year?” he asked.
The young man looked up from his cards, his eyes wide with surprise.
He has undoubtedly heard of my reputation, it seems to precede me wherever I go.

“Yes, my lord. My mother has insisted that I find a wife to bring home.”
“Come now, there is no reason to call me lord. You are a baron as am I. Call me Waterford as these fine gentlemen do.”

The man grinned. “Yes, of course.”

Adam gave a brief smile, looking away at the earliest moment. This little conversation was not done out of friendliness, but strategy. He was not aware of how well the man played, but if he could put him at ease and have the man trust him, he could get into his mind and affect his game playing. All is fair when there is money involved. And in his case, it was either win this hand or take a step closer to the poor house. Lord Mason Jenkins, his good friend and Baron of Malahide, leaned in closer to him.

“Old friend, why are you dawdling? What good can come of making small conversation with this young chap? He is yet wet behind the ears, and I am told that he is new to the gambling scene.”

“Still, I cannot underestimate him, Jenkins. I do not know much about him, and I prefer to keep what little money I have.”

Mason shook his head. “I have warned you to keep away from gambling halls, but you insist on coming back.”

“How else do you propose I gather the amount needed to cover Father’s debts? You are well aware of my family’s situation.”

“That is precisely why I have put forth this solution to you, old friend. This is the only intelligent manner in which to replenish the family coffers.”

Adam snorted. “Intelligent? It sounds as though you would put a noose about your friend’s neck and lead him to the gallows.”

Taking a sip of his brandy, he glanced around the room. Had fate smiled more favourably upon me, I would not have needed to acquaint myself with such a motley group. However, his options were few, and Stonewell’s was one of the last gambling halls that would accept him without the usual raised brows. An impoverished, titled man was hardly the type of company those of his class would sooner associate with. It did not matter that he had not been the one to land his family in a heap of debt, but as the heir and eldest son of his father, the responsibility naturally fell to him. It was a crummy feeling to return home with hardly two coins to rub together, let alone the prestige of a once wealthy and well-known family. Now we are infamous to a few, but there are still those who choose to associate with us.

“A pretty young wife is hardly a prospect to turn your nose up at, Waterford. Take my well-intended advice and accept the inevitable.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Do leave the matter alone that I may concentrate on the game. I cannot lend my mind to the prospect of marriage just yet.”

“Stubborn fellow, that is what you are. Very well, play your game and may it be your last hand. I think that I have come to my last tether concerning this gaming hall. It is not at all like White’s or Almack’s.”
“If I could enter there without the low whispers of my family’s ruin, or the inquisitive eyes that never seem to leave me from the moment I enter their establishments, then I would surely go. Until that day, Stonewell’s is the place for me.”

Mason sat back in his armchair with a sigh, lighting a cigar. The end glowed red for a moment, quickly disappearing after the first pull. Adam understood that his friend wished to help him, and marriage would likely be his only solution, but that did not mean that he had to pretend to like the idea. Mason had approached him some weeks ago about the idea of marriage to fix his problems, and while the thought of ending his family’s financial issues was a desirous outcome, the tie of matrimony was not. At twenty-five, it was not strange for a man of his age to marry, but it certainly conjured up a bleak future for him. His parent’s marriage had not set a good example, and neither had the other marriages he had had the misfortune to witness. It seems a good idea to live my life as I see fit for the duration of my years of twenty, and only settle to married life once I have entered the fitting age of thirty.

“Gentlemen,” Abernethy cut in. “We need to continue or forfeit the game.”

Some folded until only he and Brommel remained.

“This is interesting,” remarked Abernethy. “Interesting indeed. Who shall win this round? It is all up in the air, I am afraid. Gentlemen, reveal your hand, and put us out of all this tension.”

A knot formed in Adam’s stomach. Do I play my hand or do I fold? His hand was good, but Brommel’s might be better. His fortune lay on the table before him, and he had watched it ebb and flow for much of the night. Brommel had come during the fourth round, and while it was not usual to let a newcomer come in when the group of players had been established, one of their players had fallen violently ill quite suddenly, and he had taken the sick man’s place. The young chap seemed to know Abernethy quite well, which did not sit well with Adam at all. This had better not be another trick of the old man. Abernethy had a habit of behaving underhandedly for the sake of gain, there was no telling what the man might come up with next. Which proves that it is foolish that I remain here and play, but to help my family, I simply must take some risks.

“I shall allow the newcomer to reveal his hand first.”

Brommel shook his head. “Oh, no, that is simply not done. I cannot usurp your position in such a way.”

Was this a strategy? Or was the man merely being polite? I cannot tell, he is not a man I can read effortlessly.

“Please, as one older than you I give you the right to go first. Thereafter, you may be second to me. Reveal your hand.”

Adam made the last sentence sound more like a command to put an end to all argument. Brommel took the hint, slowly lowering his hand. Gripping his cards tightly, Adam held his breath as he awaited the result of a nerve-wracking game. For all the bravado he had displayed for the past several hours, he had felt none of it. How many times had he wiped the sweat from his palms, or from his face? No one save for Mason had noticed that he was only on his second glass of brandy, while others had cleared five or more. Adam could not bring himself to heavily imbibe on alcohol when the fate of his fortune lay in the cards. For all the skill he had at gaming, there was no telling what the final outcome would be. Why is this fool taking so long to reveal his hand? I feel the need to slap his hand, and that grin off his face. Why did the man seem so smug? Am I about to lose this hand? Adam wiped his face with the back of his hand, his heart pounding. He moved to the edge of his seat, waiting to see what the young man held in his hand, but when a crashing noise was heard just outside the room, everyone’s attention save Adam’s was taken off of the game.

“Waterford!” a man yelled.

Two deep lines appeared between his eyebrows as Adam glanced at his friend. Mason shrugged his shoulders, looking amused. Everyone in the room jumped a little when the door opened and banged against the wall, nearly swinging back on the man who stood there with a pistol in hand. Adam immediately recognised the man, groaning at his bad luck. Of all the people to darken this door.

“Harrison!” said Mason. “Good to see you, old chap.”

“It is Lord Clarke to you, Jenkins.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I see.” He stood up, bowing before the enraged man. “Lord Clarke, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“I wish that I could say the same, but anyone who chooses to associate with that fiend is just as deplorable.”

The enraged man took several steps towards Adam, throwing his gloves on the table. The forceful nature of the movement sent everything flying on the table, including the hand Brommel was carrying. The young man stood up, his hands going to his head.

“I say!” he thundered. “What is the meaning of this? Who is this man?”
Harrison threw him a look. “Do not involve yourself in this matter, runt, or I will deliver a thrashing you will never forget!”

Adam watched in surprise as Brommel lurched forward, his hands outreached towards Harrison. Well, well, seems the cub has a temper on him. He is not as mild as he pretends to be. Just as well that Harrison interrupted this hand, or I might have found myself without a penny.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Abernethy interrupted. “This is not the place to beat your chests and express your manliness. This is a well-respected establishment, and I would thank you kindly if you would remember that.”

Adam coughed into his hand, hiding his laughter. If this is a well-respected establishment, then I am the Prince Regent himself. No, he is too fat. Perhaps Napoleon? Too short. His quickly realised that his cough had centred attention back onto him when Harrison pointed a hand at him.

“I shall not leave this godforsaken place until this crook comes out and faces me like a man.”

The seething man was not usually this reckless, which led Adam to believe that he was likely intoxicated.

“In what manner have I wronged you once again, Clarke?”

Adam knew full well why the man stood before him like a raging bull, but he was in the mood to taunt the fellow.

“Do not pretend to not remember the horrendous insult you laid at my family’s feet, Waterford. I challenge you to a duel. Listen, you had best come outside.”

Adam sat back in his seat, no longer so amused. This once again. Does he not grow tired of challenging me to a duel whenever his drink has taken over his senses? He speaks of insult to his family, and yet he is the one who has repeatedly insulted me with his false accusations. Perhaps it was time to accept the duel and put an end to all this nonsensical drama. Adam moved to stand up, but Mason beat him to it, coming to stand between him and Harrison.

“Lord Clarke, do be reasonable. What use is there in duelling? Why not take a seat and share a drink with us? We are just about to finish a round, or perhaps we may have to start it again. You are more than welcome to join us.”

“I would rather die than sit with my enemy, Lord Malahide.”
“I can make that happen,” Adam offered.

Mason shot him a withering look. “You are not helping,” he hissed.
Adam shrugged. “I did not offer to help.”

Harrison staggered a little, his eyes momentarily going out of focus. He is ape drunk. What a fool.

“Lord Malahide,” the man slurred. “Do not act as this despicable man’s shield. We shall duel soon!”

“Very well, Lord Clarke, you are welcome to duel with me.”

Adam had had enough, and if a duel settled the issue, then he was all for it. He stood up, but his friend’s hand stopped him.

“Think on what you are doing, man,” Mason whispered. “If you do this, your chances of finding a suitable wife will be slim to none. Listen, I have a family in mind, but a scandal will repulse them. The daughter is beautiful, and the father rich. Do not be a fool and forfeit a brilliant liaison.”

“How dare he …”

“Adam.”

Mason rarely called him by his first name, and that made him pause. He looked to his friend, seeing the warning in his eyes.

“This is my pride in question, Jenkins.”

“You do not need any more problems, Adam. Rein in your temper before it destroys your chances of climbing out of financial ruin.”

His friend was right. The last thing he needed was another scandal to darken the family name. Adam’s fists curled at his side, but he took no step further.

“Do you all see this? That is the mark of a coward,” said Harrison. “He cannot face me like a man! Witness how he hides behind his friend?”

Adam took a step forward, but Mason placed his hands on his shoulders.

“Steady, old friend. The man is drunk, do not pay him any mind.”

Turning away, Adam returned to his seat, his hands still balled into fists. He was not cowardly in the slightest, but it was imperative that he keep his options open. Even if that meant settling with a dim-witted woman. Adam was of the opinion that women’s heads were full of cotton and not much else. If they were not batting their eyelashes, pretending to faint, or worrying about the next social gathering, then they were filling their time with silly conversation. His mother was the only woman who he knew to be both wise and intelligent, a woman to be looked up to by all other women. If I do not find a way to replenish our fortune, then we shall end up in the poorhouse. He, his mother, and his brothers. Their current financial status was already the talk of the London and much of England, but no one was aware of how close they were to losing it all. Gambling was the only way to keep them out of the streets, but that too carried its risks. I feel almost certain that Brommel would have won this round had he played his hand without interruption. Perhaps it was a good thing that Harrison came in when he did, or I might have lost what remains of my fortune.

“Will you not accept my challenge, Waterford?” Harrison demanded.
“No. I do not have the time to waste on a man who clearly does not understand his limits.”

Harrison laughed. “So speaks the man who is relying on a game to increase his dwindling fortune.”

Adam flexed his hand, gripping the seat of his armchair. He was not going to give in to the man’s taunts, he had his family to think about.

“Lord Clarke, I think it best that you return home,” suggested Mason. “Lord Waterford will not accept your challenge.”

“Can he not speak for himself?” the drunk man asked.

Adam tilted his head to the side, regarding the man. “I believe that I did, Clarke. Best you leave and sleep off your drunkenness. You may just come to your senses in the morning, or perhaps you will have forgotten the whole night. For your own sake, I pray that you forget it.”

Harrison blew out a gust of wind, grabbing his gloves from the table. He came closer to Adam, his eyes hot with hatred.

“You are the one who should have died, but justice will soon be served.”
“We shall see.”

Adam watched as Harrison worked his mouth for a moment, squashing the gloves in his hands. The man turned direction, walking past Adam towards the door. However, rather than leave without further incident, he brushed his gloves against Adam’s face. The room went silent as everyone held their breath to see what Adam would do. Mason immediately came forward, resting his hand on Adam’s shoulder.

“Do not react, old chap. He has nothing to lose, but you do. Think about your family.”

The mention of his family was enough to rid him of any need to stand up and pummel the man to a pulp. Never mind the duel! Instead, he clasped his hands on his lap and rested his head on the headrest.

“Fool!” Harrison spat out.

Adam did not respond. He did not trust himself to do so. The man turned too quickly, staggering head-first into an empty armchair. Abernethy went to his side when it seemed that no one was going to, helping him upright.

“Lord Clarke, you make a fool of yourself by these antics. Be a smart fellow and return home.”

Harrison shook himself free. “Leave me be! You are all in cahoots with this wretched man! I shall see myself out.”

As Adam watched the man stumble away, he almost felt sorry for him. The operative word being almost. Harrison left the gaming room muttering to himself, his hands moving. Adam caught the words ‘murderer’, and ‘sister’ before the man was too far to pick up another words. Mason squeezed his shoulder, pulling his attention away from the door.

“You did the right thing by leaving the man be. No good would have come from duelling with a man in that condition.”

“That may be. But think about my reputation. He has spoken against me on many occasions, Jenkins. There comes a time when a man must avenge himself or be taken for a weak simpleton.”

“I doubt that anyone shall take you for a simpleton, or even a weak man, Waterford. The man is obviously still grieving.”

“Does grief warrant an act of stupidity? Of false accusations? I shall be no one’s scapegoat, but I am bound by a vow to remain silent on the matter.”

Mason sighed. “Your hands are tied no matter the angle you look at it. Focus on what I spoke of, and all shall fall into place soon enough. I know that you are not keen on marriage, but I daresay that you shall be happy by the union. What man can turn away a pretty woman?”

“A smart man,” Adam muttered. He stood up, addressing the room. “I no longer wish to continue this game, gentlemen. I shall take what is owed to me and take your leave.”

“Wait just a moment,” Abernethy began.

“Mr. Abernethy, you have seen for yourself the drama which was brought to me. My mind cannot concentrate, I must go.”

Abernethy did not look pleased, but he nodded. “Very well, but I expect you to return before long. I am certain that Lord Brommel would appreciate another round with you.”

“Yes,” the young man agreed. “Lord Waterford, I look forward to another game with you.”

If I had doubts as to their relation before, they have disappeared. Abernethy and Brommel were a pair, and the sudden illness of the previous gamer was not a work of nature but two cunning men.

“Well, we shall see. Will you not leave for London soon? You did say that your mother wishes you to be married.”

“Uh, yes, you would be right,” Brommel tentatively answered. “Should I expect you in London, my lord?”

Adam shrugged. “Perhaps. We may meet in the gaming halls, or perhaps a ball full of hopefuls. I bid you a farewell, gentlemen. Jenkins?”
His friend nodded. “Yes, it is time that we leave. Lord Clarke’s presence has put a dampener on the night’s gaming, but you are more than welcome to continue without us.”

Adam took his cane from the door, collecting his coat from the uniformed man at the entrance of the establishment. Mason followed soon after, making light conversation as they climbed into the hired carriage. The last working family-owned carriage was with his mother for her convenience, the others had long ago given up, and without the money to repair them, they had been turned into firewood. The driver arrived at Mason’s abode first, before heading along to the main family home in the countryside. Adam was the only one in residence, as his mother and brothers were in their London home. The drive to Waterford Estate was filled with thoughts of his looming financial drought. It seldom left him, even when fast asleep after a tiring day.

“If only I could work to earn money, but that would mean social suicide.”

What gentleman took up work to support his family? It was unheard of. A penniless noble was would be a more suitable title than a manual labourer. Perhaps if I were to work secretly, I may be able to get away with it. It was not something that he could easily bring up in conversation with his mother. Although Mother has become open to new experiences. Pending poverty tended to do that to a person.
“It was a darned inconvenience for Father to die soon after finding out that we had lost almost all of our money.”

It was only due to Adam’s quick thinking that he was able to salvage what little they had left and kept them from heading into the poorhouse.
“But it is not enough, not nearly enough to keep us going for years to come.”

The Richardson family had been one of the wealthiest and most respected of the civilised world. Their heritage could be traced back hundreds of years, but his family’s siding with King George III during the war had been the first of their spiral to ruin. Most of the family fortune had been lost to support the king in his war efforts, but his father had been able to salvage what little they had left and grown it, only to lose it through his investments again.

Adam rubbed his hand over his face, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Perhaps Mason was right, and marriage was the only avenue left to him.

Lord Mason Jenkins, Baron of Malahide, was not a man who liked failure. He was used to getting his way in all things, including his friendships.
“Adam needs to understand that he cannot climb out of this pit alone, he needs help.”

And he had offered it free of charge. The only thing that he had not elaborated on was the nature of the people he had in mind. If I had told him right off the bat, I doubt that he would have agreed to think about it. But it seemed that he was coming around. Mason uncorked his brandy decanter, pouring a generous amount. He took a whiff of the liquid, appreciating its aroma.

“This is the good stuff, none of that nonsense that Abernethy was serving us.”

Terrible brandy that they had to pay for. Mason grimaced at the memory of it, still able to taste the remnants of the drink on his tongue. Perhaps Adam was used to it since he had lived as a man one step away from the poorhouse for quite some time.

“I, on the other hand, cannot abide by poor drink and cigars. Poor wenches? Perhaps.”

He took a satisfied sip, sighing with pleasure. Nothing better. Settling into his chair, Mason pondered on his current plan. Not only would it help Adam, but he would also benefit from it. That was not such a dreadful thing to do, was it? It was a win-win situation, and if he chose to keep his part of the deal away from Adam, then so be it.
“He will not need to bother himself about it with a pretty new wife to keep him company.”

All that was left was for him and Mr Bailey to come to an agreement for the day of the first meeting, and thereafter it should be smooth sailing.

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When a scandal threatens to bring dishonour upon her family name, Heather Bailey doesn’t hesitate for a second. She will not allow her sister to fall prey to a loveless marriage and she is willing to sacrifice herself to a man she absolutely detests. If only her charming looks and vivid personality wouldn’t be put to waste on a scornful baron that looks down upon commoners like herself… But is the restoration of her family honour really all that awaits Heather or will this just be the beginning of more than she could ever dream of?

Lord Adam Waterford is on the verge of losing his valuable position in aristocracy, after tragically losing his fortune, and can’t bear the thought of his dear family ending up in a poorhouse. It will take everything he has to ensure the maintenance of his family status, even setting his pride aside and marrying a woman beneath his station that he has no interest in. He expects nothing of her and yet her sophistication and clever wit will catch him off guard. Quickly enough he will find it unbelievably hard to keep up with his usual contemptuous attitude. As if this wasn’t enough, he will also unexpectedly find himself completely entranced by this woman’s captivating presence. Is it really possible to overcome his own deeply rooted prejudice and find love in the unexpected?

Heather and Adam come from dreadfully different classes and are an unorthodox match that wouldn’t exist in the first place weren’t for the unexpected hurdles of their families. The beginning of their story is not at all promising and they can’t help but brace themselves for the disappointment they think their lives are going to be. However, all it takes for this gloomy expectation to vanish is one true look at each other’s souls… This is easier said than done though, as their vision is blurred by their preconceived assumptions and only by listening to their hearts, will they see the truth. Could a true captivating romance be discovered in such an unfortunate match? Or will the difference of their worlds tear their blossoming feelings apart?

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