Lord Darkness (Beastly Lords Book 4) by Sydney Jane Baily

Author:Sydney Jane Baily [Baily, Sydney Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Steamy Victorian romance, Damaged hero, brave clever heroine, unusual rogue romance, blind injured hero, strong female, wealthy hero romance, period romance books, duke earl marquess nobleman aristocrat
Publisher: Cat Whisker Press
Published: 2020-09-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“I’m so glad you came by,” the Countess of Cambrey said, her tone warm and friendly. “We had fun, didn’t we, at Turvey House?”

Jane and her mother had visited the Earl of Cambrey’s country residence in Bedfordshire on the River Great Ouse when he was convalescing from an accident that took the life of the other driver. It had occurred soon after she and Lord Cambrey had hosted the charity banquet together. At the time, Jane’s mother had been pushing her to tell the man she loved him.

But she hadn’t and so she didn’t. What’s more, Margaret Blackwood had and did, and thus, John Angsley, the Earl of Cambrey, had become engaged while Jane was visiting, much to her mother’s annoyance. The Countess of Chatley felt as if he’d been stolen out from under her nose.

Now, John and Margaret were married and had a child, a little girl, named Rosie.

“At the time, your earl was not having much fun, as I recall, and you were rather betwixt and between,” Jane reminded her.

“You helped us,” Margaret recalled. “I was ready to give up on him.”

Jane couldn’t help but smile. “I’m so glad it worked out. The tea is delicious, by the way, as are the cakes.”

“I shall pass on your compliments to our cook.” The countess tossed her glossy curls over one shoulder, looking resplendent in a sapphire blue gown. “But you didn’t come here for those delicious little sponge and cream cakes, even though they are my husband’s favorite.”

“No, I came because of our conversation at Turvey House.”

Margaret frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel as sharp as I was even a couple months ago. I’ve been told by my older sister it’s baby brain.” She laughed. “I think she must be right, for ever since I had our Rosie, I’ve been more forgetful, sometimes downright wool-headed.”

“I didn’t really expect you to recall any particular conversation,” Jane assured her. “Only that we talked as friends. In fact, there is one evening’s discussion I barely recall at all.”

“Ah,” Margaret nodded knowingly. “I think you had too much wine, and it didn’t agree with you.”

“Unfortunately, too much for me is usually a sip over one glass,” Jane admitted ruefully. She had a vague notion she’d been sick in the Cambreys’ parlor and, thankfully, only Margaret had been witness to it. But what she’d said beforehand, she couldn’t recall, nor wanted to.

“In any case, I am not too proud to tell you, I do not have many female friends.”

The countess clapped her hands. “Nor I. Really only my sisters, and they don’t count, and my one childhood friend, Ada Kathryn, who isn’t presently in Town. But why?” Margaret barely hesitated. “Never mind, I know why. It’s because you always seem too perfect. Other women are intimidated.”

“Oh.” Jane thought a moment. “I have always assumed it was because I’m an earl’s daughter, and thus, deemed extremely strong competition with my hefty dowry and familial connections. I cannot imagine anyone thinking I’m perfect.”

“For me, it was because of my looks.

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