Scandal's Promise by Pamela Gibson
Publication date: August 19th, 2020
Synopsis:
Haunted by questions and her own insecurities, Lady Emily Sinclair longs to discover why her betrothed abandoned her and married another. Seven years have passed, but the pain of his betrayal still lingers, buried beneath layers of humiliation and mistrust. When he returns after the Napoleonic Wars, she vows to avoid him. If only her foolish heart felt the same.
Broken and addicted to his medication, widower Andrew Quimby, Lord Cardmore, rattles around his ancient manor, oblivious to his deteriorating health and state of mind. When he learns the woman he was forced to abandon remains unmarried, he vows to try to win her back, even if it means returning to a society he despises.
But Andrew soon discovers he has a secret enemy. Threatening notes appear and sinister accidents put those in his inner circle in danger. Can he overcome his demons in time to keep them safe or will everyone and everything he loves disappear forever.
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Excerpt
She willed herself to be calm, to speak in the prim tones she'd perfected over the years. "Shall we start at the beginning? Or perhaps somewhere in the middle. We announced our engagement at a grand ball. And then?" She gazed out over the water rather than look at his face, afraid she might detect a falsehood.
Oh ye of little faith.
"I'd accepted the invitation to the Livingston house party, thinking you would be there."
"I'd planned to go. But Mama took ill. I remained behind to help nurse her."
He stirred beside her, as if searching his memory for long-ago details. "On the, er, night in question, I joined the billiard players after dinner rather than take tea with the ladies. We wagered on every game. The challenges took hours, and we all drank heavily. When I look back on that night, it was Woodley who kept my glass full. In the wee hours of the morning, I stumbled to my room. I'd sent my man to bed hours before, knowing I'd probably collapse fully clothed once the door closed behind me."
He paused and let the remaining stones in his hand fall to the ground. "This next part is hard."
She glanced at his bowed head. "This is the part I need to hear from your own lips, Andrew."
He nodded. "She was under the coverlet--Miss Woodley--in her night rail. I hadn't lighted a candle. I didn't notice her until I had removed most of my clothes and climbed up to the bed. She laughed, a high-pitched screeching sound. I-I couldn't believe my ears or my eyes. Then the door opened, and her mother and another lady who were just passing by in the hallway barged in." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes downcast.
"Mrs. Woodley screamed, ran over to me, and pelted me with her fists. Several people gathered at the door to watch the drama. I thought it was a joke. Caroline was still laughing, and I wanted to join in the merriment even though my brain was sluggish and I feared I would pass out at any moment. Her father came in, ordered everyone else out, and bellowed at me in outrage. By then Mrs. Woodley had escorted her daughter out of the room."
He paused. "I never touched her, Em. I swear I didn't even know she was there. They'd hatched a parson's mousetrap but decided the night was ripe to spring it because they knew I was thoroughly foxed."
She'd been told only part of the story. But the last part was new. Had it been a trap? There had been moments of entrapment in the ton, but most eligible bachelors were careful to stay clear of unscrupulous mamas who had unweddable daughters. Andrew had been betrothed and technically off the market. Had he been chosen because of his fondness for spirits? Many of the eligible bachelors of the ton drank to excess. That couldn't be the reason, could it? And why?
Caroline Woodley had not been an antidote. On the contrary, she'd had many suitors, but had not accepted any. That was the perplexing part. Why go to the trouble of entrapping Cardmore and contracting a scandalous, Gretna Green marriage when eligible men surely had applied for her hand?
She hunched over and picked up one of the stones. Smooth and round, it was perfect for skipping across the water. She grasped it tightly, forming words she needed to say. "I'm still confused. Caroline was popular. She never lacked dancing partners, and a cadre of beaus followed her around. Why would she trap someone? Had she no offers?"
"Many, or at least that's what I was told."
"Then why did she not accept any?"
"I asked her. Do you know what she boldly said? She was in love."
Emily frowned. "With you? Was she in love with you, Andrew?"
"No. But by then it was imperative she marry quickly."
"I'm still confused."
He rubbed his hands on his knees. "Caroline was carrying a child, and she told everyone it was mine."
Oh ye of little faith.
"I'd accepted the invitation to the Livingston house party, thinking you would be there."
"I'd planned to go. But Mama took ill. I remained behind to help nurse her."
He stirred beside her, as if searching his memory for long-ago details. "On the, er, night in question, I joined the billiard players after dinner rather than take tea with the ladies. We wagered on every game. The challenges took hours, and we all drank heavily. When I look back on that night, it was Woodley who kept my glass full. In the wee hours of the morning, I stumbled to my room. I'd sent my man to bed hours before, knowing I'd probably collapse fully clothed once the door closed behind me."
He paused and let the remaining stones in his hand fall to the ground. "This next part is hard."
She glanced at his bowed head. "This is the part I need to hear from your own lips, Andrew."
He nodded. "She was under the coverlet--Miss Woodley--in her night rail. I hadn't lighted a candle. I didn't notice her until I had removed most of my clothes and climbed up to the bed. She laughed, a high-pitched screeching sound. I-I couldn't believe my ears or my eyes. Then the door opened, and her mother and another lady who were just passing by in the hallway barged in." He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes downcast.
"Mrs. Woodley screamed, ran over to me, and pelted me with her fists. Several people gathered at the door to watch the drama. I thought it was a joke. Caroline was still laughing, and I wanted to join in the merriment even though my brain was sluggish and I feared I would pass out at any moment. Her father came in, ordered everyone else out, and bellowed at me in outrage. By then Mrs. Woodley had escorted her daughter out of the room."
He paused. "I never touched her, Em. I swear I didn't even know she was there. They'd hatched a parson's mousetrap but decided the night was ripe to spring it because they knew I was thoroughly foxed."
She'd been told only part of the story. But the last part was new. Had it been a trap? There had been moments of entrapment in the ton, but most eligible bachelors were careful to stay clear of unscrupulous mamas who had unweddable daughters. Andrew had been betrothed and technically off the market. Had he been chosen because of his fondness for spirits? Many of the eligible bachelors of the ton drank to excess. That couldn't be the reason, could it? And why?
Caroline Woodley had not been an antidote. On the contrary, she'd had many suitors, but had not accepted any. That was the perplexing part. Why go to the trouble of entrapping Cardmore and contracting a scandalous, Gretna Green marriage when eligible men surely had applied for her hand?
She hunched over and picked up one of the stones. Smooth and round, it was perfect for skipping across the water. She grasped it tightly, forming words she needed to say. "I'm still confused. Caroline was popular. She never lacked dancing partners, and a cadre of beaus followed her around. Why would she trap someone? Had she no offers?"
"Many, or at least that's what I was told."
"Then why did she not accept any?"
"I asked her. Do you know what she boldly said? She was in love."
Emily frowned. "With you? Was she in love with you, Andrew?"
"No. But by then it was imperative she marry quickly."
"I'm still confused."
He rubbed his hands on his knees. "Caroline was carrying a child, and she told everyone it was mine."
About the Author:
Author of eight books on California history and fifteen romance novels, Pamela Gibson is a former City Manager who lives in the Nevada desert. Having spent the last three years messing about in boats, a hobby that included a five-thousand-mile trip in a 32-foot Nordic Tug, she now spends most of her time indoors happily reading, writing, cooking and keeping up with the antics of Ralph, the Rescue Cat. If you want to learn more about her activities go to her website and sign up for her quarterly newsletter and occasional blog. Or follow her in these places:
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