Tenacious Trents 01 - A Misguided Lord

It is time for Clayton Trent, Earl of
Bentley, to take a bride. He knows exactly what he needs and the
type of lady who should become his Countess. His life is orderly,
scandal free and exactly the way it should be until Miss Eleanor
Westin careens into him, upsetting the perfect balance of his
world. She is everything his father said he should not marry. Yet,
he cannot put her from his mind, not even when a decade old scandal
threatens the very foundation of his family.

Miss Eleanor Westin has spent her life in the
country on the brink of poverty and raising her siblings after the
death of her parents until her grandfather finally decides to do
his duty and brings her to London. Eleanor simply wants to find a
gentleman who is willing to take on her family in the bargain. Love
is not even a consideration if she can land security.
Unfortunately, the only gentleman who has made any offer is Lord
Bentley, and he will never do. If only he would stay out of her
dreams so she could forget him and his intoxicating kisses.

A Misguided Lord

By: Jane Charles

Copyright © 2012 by Jane
Charles

Smashwords Edition

Cover Design by Adrienne
Throne

Cover Photo by HotDamn
Designs

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, locations and events are either a product of the
author’s imagination, fictitious or used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to any event, locale or person, living or dead, is
purely coincidental.

This e-book is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given
away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person, please purchase an additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and
purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of
this author.

For Ken Hupp, a gentleman living in
modern times

and Peggy Breaux, my dear
friend

Bentley Manor, Northeast
Kent, England

September, 1790

The lone candle cast larger than life
shadows along the walls of the long dark hall on the nursery floor
of Bentley manor. “Please, take me with you,” the young Clayton
Trent, Viscount Carlyle begged his step-mother, Adele. “I promise
not to be a burden.” His heart pounded within his chest. She
couldn’t leave him. Them. What were he and his brothers to
do?

A gentle smile came to her lovely
face. She brought a hand up and caressed his cheek. “If only I
could, I would.”

“
Why can’t you?” He blinked
back tears. She could not take Julia, his baby sister, and leave
them.

“
Your father would come
after me.” Her hand dropped to the side. “It is best this way.” She
bent forward and pulled Clay close and held him for but a minute.
He wanted to cling to her pelisse to keep her here. Adele kissed
the top of his head. “Hug your brothers for me and tell them that I
love them, but I can’t stay here any longer.”

Clay glanced up into his step-mother’s
angelic face, tears streamed down her cheeks. Julia, his
half-sister of only two, whimpered. If he pinched her she would cry
and wake the servants, then mother couldn’t go anywhere. He looked
down at the child, thumb in her rosebud mouth, watching him. She
brought a small pudgy fist up and rubbed a clear green eye. The
babe should be in bed, not standing in the corridor at one in the
morning, dressed for a journey. And, he couldn’t hurt Julia, no
matter how much it served his purpose. That was his baby sister.
She was supposed to be his responsibility since he was the oldest
brother.

“
But how can I protect
Julia, and you?”

A sad smile came to his step-mother’s
face. “I will protect Julia. It will be easier away from here.” She
caressed his cheek again. “You protect your brothers. They are
going to need you.”

With that she picked up Julia and
walked down the dark servant stairs leading to the kitchen. Clay
trailed after her, not ready to be parted. When she reached the
door leading out of the house, she looked back at him. “Return to
bed. Say a prayer for us and I will for you.” The door closed and
Clay stood in the room for a moment before he raced up to his
chamber. Once there, he leaned by the window and watched her
disappear into the woods.

Surely she wasn’t walking all the way
to town. It was too far. She would come back. She had to come
back.

Clay pulled a chair up and sat at the
window until the orange glow of dawn rose from the earth. His eyes
were dry and scratchy, tears long spent. Adele and Julia never came
back. She had left them and the pain was almost too much to
bear.

He didn’t move though breakfast had
been served and his tutor would arrive in an hour. Clay could not
bring himself to leave the window. What if Mother changed her mind?
He had to be here. He had to watch. What if she needed
them?

At the scratch on the door, Clay
turned as the butler entered. “Your father wishes you in his study
as soon as you are dressed.”

Clay swallowed. Did Father already
know they were gone? Had they come back and he missed the arrival?
He hurried and dressed. Father became very cross if one was tardy
and not knowing what his mood would be today, Clay didn’t
dawdle.

He didn’t want to give his father any
further reason to be angry.

He met his brothers on the stairs on
the way to the study. Jordan, almost two years Clays junior would
turn eight in a week. Beside him was Matthew, age seven and finally
John, soon to be six. The four of them lined up before Father’s
grand, dark mahogany desk, hands folded before them, backs
straight, chins high, in age order as well as height. They looked
like a set of steps from behind, or at least that is what a maid
had once told them.

“
They’re dead.” The
pronouncement came without the slightest hint of remorse or
feeling. Cold. Angry.

Clayton stared at his father, trying
to absorb the words. “Who is dead, father?”

“
That
woman
I married, Adele, and her
daughter, Julia.” Venom dripped from his words.

Pain shot through Clay’s heart and his
stomach clenched. It was worse than watching them leave. Why wasn’t
his father more upset, grieving? The man had just lost his wife and
child.

“
How father?” Jordan
questioned. Clay glanced at his brother, who was particularly close
to their step-mother. They all were, actually. Clay barely recalled
the woman who gave birth to him and he knew the others did not.
Especially John, since she died of a fever when John was but a week
old.

“
Their carriage went over
the side of a bridge?”

Maybe he should have pinched Julia,
then they would have been caught and both would be alive
today.

Matthew sniffed and Father glared at
him. “A man does not cry.”

He watched his brother blink a few
times and tightened his mouth. Matt was but a child of seven,
hardly a man, yet they all learned from an early age what his
father deemed correct behavior from his sons. Crying was not
included in that list.

“
Will there be a funeral?”
Jordan asked.

“
No. The bodies were
carried down the river. I doubt we will ever find them. They’ve
probably already been swept out to sea.”

How can the man be so unfeeling?
Clay’s chest tightened with buried emotion. He would not show
weakness in front of his father but the idea of baby Julia and
Adele floating, or sinking into the cold, dark water tore him apart
inside.

“
I’ll miss Mother,” John
whispered.

Father’s hands slammed down
on the desk, making them jump. Father leaned forward. “That woman
was
not
your
mother. She was a mistake and we should all be glad to be rid of
her.”

Clay wanted to argue that she wasn’t a
mistake but the best thing to happen to them since their mother
died. Adele was full of love, life, laughter and happiness. She
sang, read to them and played on the lawn. His father just barked
orders and used the switch when he deemed it necessary.

“
Poor Julia,” Jordan
muttered.

“
Is probably not your
sister either.”

All four sets of eyes widened and Clay
looked back at his father.

“
She was probably the
by-blow of a stableman,” his father grumbled. Clay’s face heated.
He recently learned what by-blow stood for, though he was certain
that person was wrong. His mother would not have another man’s
child. It wasn’t possible. Not when she was married to his father
and babies only came from being married. Of that he was certain.
Father was just being mean.

“
What is a by-blow?”
Matthew asked.

Father glanced at the boy. “Nothing
you need to concern yourself with.”

Silence followed and Clay had a number
of questions, but none he dared ask. His brothers were equally
silent waiting for Father to continue. They all feared him, and
with good reason. One never knew when his rage would boil. And when
it did, one didn’t want to be in the same room.

Father sneered and tossed back a glass
of brandy. Perhaps he was more upset than he was letting on because
Father never drank in the morning.

“
You are dismissed, except
for Clayton.”

Clay’s heart pounded and he stood
waiting while his brothers filed out of the room, closing the door
behind them.

“
This should be a lesson to
you son.”

Clay swallowed. Did his father know
about last night, that Clay had watched them leave and said
nothing? “What lesson?”

“
There are two types of
women in the world.”

Clay inwardly sighed. He would much
rather receive a lecture than a beating.

“
Your mother, God rest her
soul, was a perfect woman; Shy, quiet, and unassuming. She didn’t
speak unless spoken to. She never questioned my authority and did
as she was bid. She waited until I was not busy to speak with me,
and always turned to me for guidance. Furthermore, she did her duty
by providing four perfect sons.” His father poured more liquid into
his glass and took a drink.

“
Yes sir.” Clay didn’t know
what else to say.

“
In contrast,”

“
Adele was the exact
opposite. Beautiful beyond words. Full of life, energy and
passion.” Father scowled at him over the rim of the glass and took
another drink. “I married her for you, all of you. I needed a young
lady to raise my sons, who could keep up with you, and that was my
mistake.”

“
I don’t understand.” Adele
was perfect. Clay loved Adele and wanted her back. But, she was
dead and he would never see her again. Tears threatened and he
blinked, willing them away before Father noticed.

“
A beautiful woman, full of
laughter, does not make a good wife. She wanted things. She wanted
attention. She wanted to dance, to sing, and have a man in her bed
all hours of the day. The final blow was when she delivered a
worthless daughter.”

Clay’s face heated. He barely
understood what his father meant, but knew enough to wish they were
not having this conversation.

“
She wanted to return to
London for the Season, to be with friends, to shop and stroll in
the park.”

“
That sounds
fun.”

“
It is, for a young girl
without responsibilities.” His father tipped the glass until not
even a drop was left. “A wife must see to her family and husband,
and remain at his estate. They cannot go gallivanting off to London
or Bath whenever it suits them. She even wanted to read about
finances, investing and philosophy.” He poured more liquid into his
goblet from the decanter sitting on the desk. “She thought herself
capable of what only a man can understand. Had I realized that when
we met, I would have never offered for her.”

Clay couldn’t recall Adele ever
leaving the estate, though he heard more arguments than he could
count, begging Father to take her away for just a short
week.