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  A Gentleman’s Promise

  Scandalous Series

  Novella One

  BY

  Tamara Gill

  A Gentleman’s Promise

  Scandalous Series

  Novella One

  Copyright 2013 by Tamara Gill

  First Published 2013

  Editing by Serena Tatti

  Cover Art by

  The Killion Group. Inc.

  Hot Damn Designs

  Published by Tamara Gill

  www.tamaragillromanceauthor.com

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a database and retrieval system or transmitted in any form or any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the owner of copyright and the above publishers.

  DEDICATION

  For Beverly.

  Chapter One

  Somerset England, 1818

  Charlotte waded out into the lake that ran behind her father's Somerset estate and swam toward the middle of the pond. The chilled water cooled her skin and was a welcome reprieve from the scorching summer heat, which England was experiencing that year.

  Heat bore down on her head from the sun and she shrugged off the thought that she would freckle. It mattered little what she looked like anymore. Her future was as set as the seasons. The water was a refreshing change after a morning stuck in the stifling hot drawing room with Mama, going over invitations for the forthcoming season in London. Not that Charlotte cared who called or invited them to their events. Her father’s decision was made and the marriage contracts were signed.

  Charlotte floated onto her back and looked up at the endless blue sky above her. Not a cloud marred the horizon to hint a break in the endless heat wave. Not that she minded, for as long as this hot weather held, the longer her mama would demand that they stay in Somerset. And the longer she could remain unmarried.

  The sound of a branch breaking underfoot pulled her from her musings and Charlotte treaded water while trying to find the source of the noise. Please let it not be Gus. Her eleven-year-old cousin was the most annoying, vexing boy. Forever reminding Charlotte that he was her father's heir and the future master of her home once the estate passed into his hands, following the demise of her father.

  The little rascal seemed to forget she would be long married by then and that he wasn’t inheriting a title, merely land, and a home. Little tyrant. Heir or not, she sometimes had the urge to bend him over her knee and spank him until he howled.

  “Apologies, Miss King. I did not realize that you were swimming. Forgive my intrusion.”

  Charlotte shut her mouth with a snap at the sight of Lord Helsing's naked abdomen. His skin glistened and sweat beaded down the middle of his chest, just waiting for the cool spring water to wash it away.

  Still unable to speak, her attention wavered to his lordship’s skin-tight breeches, which were very snug indeed...Charlotte turned away and splashed some water on her face, hoped that the heat she felt beneath her skin was solely from the sun and not from seeing the man standing behind her on the bank.

  “No apology required, my lord. Being as hot as it is today, I had thought to come for a cooling dip.” She paused and wondered what he thought of her staring at him. Hoped against hope he did not realize what a profound reaction she always had when she was around him. Her stomach twisted into knots and her mouth dried, usually resulting in her inability to form words. Blushing was the least of her problems.

  “Well, I will take your leave. Good day, Miss King.”

  Charlotte turned about, savoring the vision of his back, which was indeed as pleasing as his front. “I was just about to leave. You may stay and swim if you wish.”

  His dark, hooded gaze fixed on her and Charlotte fought not to die of embarrassment. They had been friends once. Had in fact been neighbors since they were children. But school and social circles soon placed a wedge between their friendship. As was the case for many children in such circumstances.

  “If you're sure, Miss King? I wouldn’t wish to impose upon you.”

  “If my lord would be kind enough to turn for a moment to afford me some privacy, I could emerge from the water,” she said, swimming toward the shore.

  Lord Helsing turned around and waited for her. Charlotte wrung out her soaked shift as best she could before pulling on her summer gown that buttoned up at the front. Her dress clung to her and was uncomfortable against her skin but she ignored it. The fact that Lord Helsing, one of the most popular gentlemen in town was making conversation with her was too good an opportunity to believe.

  “I’m ready, my lord.”

  Lord Helsing looked over his shoulder and met her gaze. He smiled and turned before making his way to the bank of the lake and sitting started to take off his boots. Charlotte watched as he slid his stockings off, his long feet oddly different to hers. She’d never seen a man’s feet before.

  “Do you mind if I take a swim, Miss King?” he asked, his brows raised.

  Charlotte shook her head and then cleared her throat. “No, of course not.”

  Charlotte bit her lip as she watched his lordship dive under the water before emerging with a sigh of pleasure. A well-muscled arm came out of the water and pushed back a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow and the breath in her lungs seized. Never had she been so close to a man only half dressed, not to mention a man who unsettled her with just a glance.

  “Delightful,” he said.

  She couldn’t have worded her thoughts better.

  “I thought you would be in town, Miss King. Is this not your debut year?”

  Charlotte hid her stockings in her pocket and looked about for her shoes. “We’re due up any day. As soon as this dratted heat abates, Mother will take me to London.” She frowned. “I’m engaged to be married, my lord. Did you know?”

  He swam toward the bank, the shock of her statement easy to read on his features.

  “I had not heard. Congratulations.” He paused. “May I ask who the lucky fellow is?”

  “Viscount Remmick, my lord.” Charlotte watched to see if Lord Helsing showed some sort of reaction to her words. Or more truthfully, hoped he would. Yet, his easy smile at her words dashed any hopes she may have had that he may have found the news unacceptable. Hopes that he would, in fact, run from the water, pick her up and declare his undying love to her.

  Instead, he swam back into the centre of the pond and dived out of sight. By the time he had resurfaced, Charlotte was ready to leave.

  “It was a pleasure to see you again, my lord. It had been a long time. I hope we may meet again in town?”

  “I may see you tomorrow as I have business with your father. But if not, perhaps our paths will cross in London as you say.”

  Charlotte discreetly drank in one last sight of him before she turned and walked away. Made sure that she didn’t look back. Not once.

  Chapter Two

  Mason handed his horse to the waiting groom and looked up at the red brick Tudor mansion which Charlotte called home. Granted the house was not as grand as his estate, Dellage, but it was beautiful, with the ivy vines and hollyhocks that grew wild on and around its base.

  He breathed in deep the smells of a home he knew as well as his own and hoped the missive he’d sent around yesterday to call on Mr King had been received.

  Mason met the welcoming gaze of
the footman, who opened the door. “Lord Helsing to see Mr. King,” he said. The cooling air of the foyer was a welcome reprieve from the heat outside.

  The footman having not taken two steps, stopped when Mr King, a tall, stout man, stepped out of the library. When he was young, Charlotte’s father used to scare him with his size and boisterousness, but not anymore. Now, the older gentleman seemed jolly instead of daunting. Welcoming instead of annoyed at his presence.

  “Welcome, my lord. Please,” Mr King said, gesturing him toward the library. “Join me.”

  Mason followed Mr King into the room. Books littered the walls, along with scrolls and papers placed on any available surface. Unable to see a chair under the assortment of paper work, Mason stood before the desk instead. Mr King laughed and picked up the papers from a chair, allowing him to sit.

  “Thank you,” Mason said, taking a seat.

  “What brings you to our humble establishment, my lord? I hope everything is well at Dellage.” Mr King sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers over his rotund stomach.

  Mason cleared his throat. “Very well, thank you, no reason for concern on that score,” he replied. “No, my business today involves your daughter, Miss King. It’s come to my attention she’s to marry Lord Remmick and I’m here as an old family friend and neighbor to urge you caution and perhaps persuade you to break the marriage contract.”

  Mr King sat shocked into silence, his face an awful pasty-white color that didn’t bode well for the gentleman’s health.

  “Are you unwell?” Mason asked, becoming concerned when Charlotte’s father reached out for his brandy, downing it in one gulp.

  Mr King coughed. “Confused is all. How is it you care what Charlotte does and who she marries? You do understand she has been promised these past two months to Viscount Remmick. It’s a little late for neighborly concern now.”

  Mason nodded. “I’ve been away on my estates and came home as soon as I’d heard the rumor. I had hoped your daughter would make a more suitable match, and with all due respect, Mr King, Lord Remmick is not.” The thought of the lovely Charlotte married to a rogue and one whose past was as sketchy as his health sent shivers of revulsion down his spine.

  “Lord Remmick met Charlotte in London before her debut and travelled down here and proposed only two months past. She accepted him, of course. How is it,” Mr King said, rising from his chair to refill his brandy glass, “that an Earl, no matter how close a neighbor, would care what my daughter did with her life? We have not entertained in the same circles and I have not seen much of you since you left for Eton and then Cambridge. It does seem odd that you should take an interest now, my lord.”

  Mason took a moment to gather his wits. His mind whirred with the truth of Mr King’s words. True, he hadn’t had a lot to do with his neighbors in recent years, but that didn’t change the fact that Charlotte had been his closest childhood friend. They were no longer as close as they had been due to the fact they’d grown up, moved in different circles and had vastly different friends, but that didn’t mean he did not care for her.

  “My lord?” Mr King prompted.

  Mason took a calming breath and met the speculative eyes of Charlotte’s father. “I suppose as children, when my parents were alive and we stayed at Dellage, a friendship formed between Miss King and myself. I care for her and do not wish to see her hurt in any way. My concern stems from my knowledge of Lord Remmick. He is unsuitable match for Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte, my lord? You mean, Miss King.”

  Mason refused to squirm under Mr King’s inquisitive stare. “Of course, Miss King,” he said.

  Mr King sat back in his chair and sighed. “You are asking me if Charlotte can rescind her agreement due to the fact Lord Remmick does not meet your standard of husband for her.”

  “That is exactly what I’m asking. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about Lord Remmick. Now, I’m not the type of man to sully another’s reputation, but when it comes to your daughter’s choice in husband, I think it only right I let you know the rumors are true. To think of Miss King subjected to his way of life would be something I would not wish on such a gentle and sensitive young woman.” Mason watched surprise then distaste flow over Mr. King’s visage. He was aware that the way he was speaking was very insulting to Charlotte’s betrothed and could be termed forward at best, yet Charlotte deserved better than a marriage filled with immoral behavior, mostly achieved around the streets and lanes of Covent Garden and the Cyprians who paraded their wares there.

  “The contracts have been signed. There is nothing to be done. Charlotte will be Viscountess Remmick by the end of the season. I’m confident my daughter is happy with her choice.” Mr. King rang a bell on his desk and stood. “I understand your concern, my lord. But I think as her father that I know what is best for her. She will be in safe and loving hands I assure you.”

  Mason remained seated, tried and failed at keeping his opinions to himself. “I apologize if you think I’ve spoken out of turn, but when the happiness of your daughter is at risk, I’m sure you wouldn’t wish to ignore my concerns. Are you not the least worried by Lord Remmick’s seedy lifestyle? He’s a rogue. A man rumored to have caught an unspeakable infection. How could you give your permission, Mr. King?” Mason felt his temper getting away from him and he took a calming breath.

  Mr. King waved the footman away who came in at the raised voices. He sighed. “It was her choice. I’ve always raised my children to be of independent thought. Lord Remmick asked for her hand and Charlotte said yes, it was simple as that.” Mr King smiled, the action bordering disdain. “I am aware of his misdemeanors and he has promised to remedy his lifestyle. That is enough for me.”

  Mason snorted. “And you believed him.” He paused and ran a hand through his hair. How could the fellow be so blind? “Does Charlotte know he’s poor? He may be titled but all but his pockets are for rent.” Mason caught a flicker of anger in Mr. King’s eyes, although whether over his questioning or enlightening of Lord Remmick’s situation he couldn’t tell.

  “She knows. Fortunately for Charlotte, her dowry will amply provide for them both and therefore there is no reason for concern. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my lord, I have a luncheon with my family to attend.”

  Mason stood. “This is a mistake. You’re letting your eldest daughter make the biggest blunder of her life. I hope, Mr King, that she doesn’t live to regret her choice.” He walked out of the room without another word. The man didn’t seem to have any principles. It made Mason wonder if they’d really told Charlotte the truth of Lord Remmick’s situation.

  He opened the front door and started when the man himself stood at the threshold about to tap the knocker. “Lord Remmick,” Mason said, stepping past him.

  His lordship smiled and turned. “Lord Helsing, I was unaware that you were to join us for luncheon.”

  “I’m just leaving,” Mason said, relieved to see his horse being led from the stable.

  “Please, do not leave on my account.” Lord Remmick laughed. “You know, given enough blunt I’m always willing to share.” His lordship winked, before stepping inside.

  Mason stood still in shock before anger thrummed hot in his veins along with helplessness. Charlotte’s marriage to that fiend was not what she deserved. He shook his head. Her father ought to be horsewhipped.

  He cantered down the graveled, maple-lined drive and images of Charlotte, the sweet, young woman, as pure as a breath of spring air beneath the filthy, diseased rogue haunted him. He pushed his horse into a gallop. He should have courted her himself. At least then she would have the life she deserved. He chastised himself that he hadn’t sought her out in London. But never had it occurred to him that she would accept the first marriage proposal she received. It was not uncommon for women to have two seasons before they made their choice. Mason sighed, knowing why she had done so. Charlotte had always been impatient, ready to do and experience everything she could. It would seem she included marriage o
n her list of many things to achieve early.

  He could always bribe Lord Remmick to walk away. Maybe even talk Charlotte into breaking the contract. He was nearing thirty and it was time he thought of marrying. And he knew Charlotte better than any other woman. They would get along well enough.

  But Remmick was selfish. It would only be a matter of time before he was back and demanding more funds, until nothing was left of his or Charlotte’s fortune. Helsing swore and spurred his horse on.

  He would have to let her go and hope for the best. To avoid any uncomfortable meetings, he would close up Dellage and leave for London. Travel in the cool of the evening to limit the strain on his horse. He would not return to Somerset until after Miss King was married and settled.

  Happily so, with any luck.

  Chapter Three

  “Was that Lord Helsing I just saw, leaving in a cloud of dust?” Charlotte placed her gloves on her father's desk and poured herself a cup of lemonade. The cool, sour drink went some way towards bringing her body temperature down. Not wholly due to the extreme heat which summer was bestowing on them, but from the view of Mason’s departing backside as he galloped down the drive on his horse.

  “Yes, it was,” her father replied. “I've just had the oddest conversation with the man. It seems he has concerns with whom you’ve agreed to marry.”

  “That is exactly what I wished to speak to you about.” Charlotte came to stand before him. “I do not think Lord Remmick and myself are well suited. I received a letter today from Amelia, Lady Furrow and not to be impolite papa, she mentioned some terrible rumors going around London in relation to my betrothed. I don’t wish to make a mistake.”

  Her father laughed. “You’re just confused, my dear. Should I break the contract and grant you your wish, will you come to me in three months and say the same thing about some other gentleman who asks for your hand? The contracts are signed and to break a contract would be scandalous, not to mention, too expensive, even for me.”