Laura Martin - An Earl In Want Of A Wife

Gently Daniel dropped a hand to her shoulder. Lizzie felt her breath catch in her throat as she anticipated his next move.

Slowly, so slowly, Daniel ran his fingers along the neckline of her dress, and she knew she’d scream if he didn’t delve deeper. Lizzie knew what they were doing was wrong, but she also knew that if Daniel stopped she would shatter from pure frustration.

Daniel stopped. Lizzie moaned, trying to pull him closer again, not caring if she was behaving like a common street walker. She wanted Daniel. Her body was screaming out in need of him.

She looked up with unfocused eyes and saw the confusion on his face. Of everything she’d expected to see there, confusion hadn’t been part of it.

Lizzie wondered once again what he saw when he looked at her. She knew he couldn’t truly be attracted to her, but when he kissed her it seemed so real, so passionate, she couldn’t believe he didn’t feel some spark of desire. Surely even the most consummate of actors couldn’t fake what they had just shared?

Author Note

I started to write An Earl in Want of a Wife when I was heavily pregnant, and when I was planning this book my mind was taken up with all things to do with children. In this day and age in our society it does not much matter if your parents are married or not when you’re born, but with motherhood looming I got to thinking about families in Regency England. I realised that illegitimacy had far-reaching consequences for those living a couple of hundred years ago, and a man with an illegitimate child would have had many difficult decisions to make. With all this in my mind Daniel, a gentleman agonising over such decisions, was born.

As Daniel’s character developed I realised he needed a very special woman to help him overcome not only the harsh judgements of society but also his own sometimes misguided ideas about fatherhood. Lizzie is that woman. She is the quintessential ugly duckling, but throughout the book she blossoms into a confident young woman. When writing An Earl in Want of a Wife I was infused with the sentimentality of pregnancy, and I wanted her to find her happy ending just as I would my own child.

An Earl in Want of a Wife

Laura Martin

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LAURA MARTINwrites historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book, and has been known to read cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel, especially visiting historical sites and far-flung shores.

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For Jack, my constant companion.

Your smile melts my heart.

And for Luke.

Every day with you is even better than the last.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Author Note

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Lizzie peered out of the carriage window and tried to calm her racing pulse. Never before in her life had she felt so alone. Before boarding the boat bound for London she’d heard so much about the city, but now she was here she couldn’t quite believe how busy and crowded it was. Momentarily she longed for the rolling hills just outside Bombay, but then silently reprimanded herself. She hadn’t been happy there, not truly. This was the opportunity she’d been waiting for her entire life.

As the carriage slowed Lizzie let the curtain fall back into place and tried to put herself into the role she was to play for the next few weeks. For at least a fortnight she was no longer to be Miss Elizabeth Eastway, orphaned daughter of a penniless second son. Instead she would play the role of Miss Amelia Eastway, cherished only child and heiress to a substantial fortune. She found herself smiling ruefully, knowing Amelia was the only person in the world who could have persuaded her to go along with such a ruse. If anyone else had asked, she would have laughed and shook her head, then proceeded to bury it in whatever book it was she was reading, but Amelia was different. Amelia was the sister she’d never had, her only champion and friend in a world that did not favour penniless orphans. Lizzie knew she would jump in the path of a crazed horse to save Amelia, so when her cousin had asked her to swap identities for a couple of weeks she could hardly say no.

Of course, Amelia hadn’t thought the whole thing through. Lizzie knew by agreeing to swap identities with her cousin it would be she who suffered in the long-term. She didn’t have a large dowry or a substantial inheritance; people would forgive Amelia, but penniless Lizzie would be ruined. If her cousin had realised that, Lizzie knew she wouldn’t have asked, but as always Amelia hadn’t even stopped to consider the consequences. In Lizzie’s mind she didn’t have much to lose, so when Amelia asked, she agreed. It wasn’t as though she ever expected to make a good marriage or start a family, so Lizzie kept telling herself she wasn’t sacrificing that much for her beloved cousin.

The carriage rolled to a stop and Lizzie took a second to compose herself, trying to mimic the sunny smile that came so easily to Amelia’s face. She had to be cheerful and outgoing these next few weeks; there was no one to hide behind, no one to take the focus off her. All her life Lizzie had been kept in the shadows and she’d rather got used to it there. Now she was being pushed into the light and she just hoped she didn’t let her cousin down.

A footman opened her door and Lizzie allowed him to help her down. She stared up in awe of the mansion they’d stopped across the street from and had to remind herself not to gawp.

‘If you’d just follow me, miss,’ the footman said, indicating they were to cross the road and ascend the steps to the very house she was in awe of.

Lizzie nodded, stepping out on to the street.

Immediately she heard a man shout and a horse let out a snort. Spinning to her left, Lizzie cowered backwards. The beast was almost upon her, rearing up, hooves flying through the air towards her face. Lizzie stumbled and lost her balance, landing with a jarring thud on the dusty street. She wished she could close her eyes, wished she could look away, but it was as though she were entranced. As if in slow motion she saw the rider pull on the reins, trying desperately to bring the beast under control, but Lizzie knew it was too late. The horse would trample her and there was nothing she or the rider could do about it.