Jane Lark - The Reckless Love of an Heir - An epic historical romance perfect for fans of period drama Victoria

His father set their refreshed glasses down on the table beside the board. “You know if Alethea discovered how you live… or even if Casper, or God forbid Julie—”

“Papa, I live as all young men live before they are wed. You cannot expect better of me than you did of yourself.”

His father huffed out a breath as he sat. “Except that I regret that I lived that way. It brought me no happiness, as your mother will tell you. Given a chance to turn back time she and I would have married when we were young and I would have accepted the responsibility of supporting my father. I shall always consider my wild years, years that I lost or threw away.”

“Well I am in my wild years, and I consider them precious. I am not you, and I am not throwing them away.”

The carriage drew to a halt before the Palladian frontage of the assembly rooms in Blake Street. A footman opened the carriage door. Henry climbed out first, and stood beneath the giant portico, then offered his hand to Sarah to help her descend. It felt very freeing to have his right arm back, and yet the muscle had wasted a little, and his shoulder was still stiff and sore.

“Nervous?” he whispered when her foot touched the pavement.

“Excited,” she answered, with a broad smile.

He smiled too. He’d not imagined that accompanying Sarah to her first dance would move him at all, but he had been moved. He was proud of his oldest sister.

She had walked downstairs into the hall with the brightest smile, looking full grown, and beautiful. She had their mother’s unusual emerald green eyes and dark brown hair, and with it styled in such a grown up manner… She had become a woman, and somehow he had missed it until this evening.

He offered his arm to Sarah as his parents descended. “Allow me to be the one who walks you in.”

She smiled at him again.

Emotion clutched tight in his chest. He was the eldest; one day he would be the head of their family like his cousin John, the Duke of Pembroke, was of his. He’d never considered the idea before. Yet his father was healthy, he hoped it would be years before he must take on the earldom. He would rather his father alive and he the heir, who had the time and the money to live a care free life.

They walked into the large assembly rooms. He’d never attended before. It was a long, rectangular room, surrounded with pilasters of beige marble and full of people, music and conversation. Henry could see no one he knew. It was not London.

There was a country dance in progress. He leant towards his sister. “As we cannot join this dance let me take you to find the refreshments.”

People bowed and curtsied as they walked past. Of course amongst these people they stood out because of their father’s title.

Pride burned with a roaring flame in his chest. It must be the first time Sarah had experienced such recognition and it would be the first time she would dance outside their home, or a member of their family’s home. When the season began she would come to London and dance too. His sister, all grown up, and there was Christine to follow her.

A different sensation clasped in his chest, one that was more brutal and aggressively masculine. A need to protect her. He knew too much of London. Too much of what occurred outside the ballrooms. When she came to London he would need to watch her. There would be rakes and scoundrels all about her; men like him and his father.

The thought stabbed him with embarrassment. From that perspective perhaps he could appreciate his father’s view. He would not care for Sarah to know anything of his life in town.

“Wine?” he offered when they neared the refreshment table. When she nodded, he picked up a glass and handed it to her.

“Thank you, Henry.”

Their mother and father approached. “Mama?” He picked up another glass for her.

Several people in the room stared at them yet others came forward, and then the introductions began. “This is my eldest daughter, Sarah… This is my son, Lord Henry…”

The people Henry was introduced to were mostly the merchants and businessmen of York, though there were a small number of untitled relations of aristocratic families. Of course the businessmen and merchants benefited from his father’s patronage and so they were very keen to be introduced to his heir and compliment Sarah. Sarah would have been complimented even if she looked hideous because these men and their wives were merely scraping to gain the interest of an earl.

Henry was glad when the current dance came to its end so he and Sarah could escape all the bowing. His intent, then, was to dance all night and avoid anymore fuss.

He smiled at Sarah, conspiratorially, and lifted his good arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes please.”

Sarah’s fingers lay on top of the fabric of his evening coat. He escorted her on to the floor.

It was another country dance, they stood and faced one another. Her cheeks had turned pink. She was holding the attention of many people in this room, and as many women as men. He presumed the women jealous of his sister’s wealth and beauty. She would have a dowry that would be sought after as much as herself. Yes, he would need to protect her in town.

He winked at her, to make her relax.

She smiled, and then the music and the dancing began.

They smiled at each other every time they came together in the set, and he whispered some quip about their companions. She was laughing each time they parted.

When the dance ended they returned to their parents to take a few sips of wine. Sarah was breathing heavily yet the colour in her cheeks was now from exercise and enjoyment.

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