The Spencer Sisters Forbidden Loves and Broken Hearts Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Spencer Sisters Forbidden Loves and Broken Hearts | A Seabrook Family Saga, Book Six | By Christine Donovan

  SUMMARY

  Also by Christine Donovan

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One | August 1818

  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

  Epilogue

  The End

  OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES | THE RELUCTANT DUKE | A Seabrook Saga, Book One | London 1816

  THE LADY AND THE EARL | A Seabrook Family Saga, Book Two

  THE LADY MUST CHOOSE | A Seabrook Family Saga, Book Three | England 1818

  LORD SEBASTIAN AND THE SCOTTISH LASS | A Seabrook Family Saga, Book Four | Northern England | 1818

  Spencer Meets His Lady Love | A Seabrook Family Saga, Book Five | London 1806

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  The Spencer Sisters Forbidden Loves and Broken Hearts

  A Seabrook Family Saga, Book Six

  By Christine Donovan

  SUMMARY

  Elizabeth and Mary Spencer, each has their sight set on a particular gentleman—one forbidden, one damaged.

  Edward Worthington, Marquess of Amesbury, is haunted by his past. After his entire family dies in a tragic carriage accident, where he is the only survivor, he partakes in disreputable behavior to deal with his loss. Upon making Elizabeth’s acquaintance, his heart awakens. Knowing he will never be worthy of her, he proposes anyway. Will Elizabeth take him as he is or will she beg off upon learning of his secrets?

  Elizabeth fell in love with Amesbury at the beginning of her second Season. When he proposes she knows her happily-ever-after is within reach, or so she thinks. During a masquerade ball she overhears a conversation between Amesbury and a woman from his past. Elizabeth is beyond broken inside. When she agrees to give him the opportunity to explain, she is torn between the transgressions of his past and her withering heart.

  Mr. Smythe, a Bow Street Runner, captures Mary’s heart when they first meet at the beginning of the Season. While on holiday, at the Marquess of Amesbury’s country estate, Mary is caught in a compromising position with him. Her brother, Spencer, against her wishes, decides to betroth her to a member of the ton as soon as possible, as Mr. Smythe will not do. Time is of the utmost urgency if they are to get ahead of the gossipmongers and save Mary from ruin.

  Mr. Smythe knows loving the granddaughter of a countess will come to a painful and heartbreaking end. It doesn’t stop him from taking the risk. A risk he loses. Members from the upper-class do not marry from the lower-class. Nor do they marry a man hired to keep them safe from highwaymen. How unfortunate Mary and Smythe’s hearts do not follow society’s strict rules.

  Copyright @ 2019 by Christine Donovan

  Cover Design by Wicked Smart Designs

  Edited by Judy Roth

  All right reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook 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 person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to except portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]

  This book is a historical work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locals or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental. Any inaccuracies to the time period are done by this author on purpose to suit the story.

  Sign up for Christine’s newsletter to be informed of new releases and to be eligible for special contests and prizes. You can sign up on Christine’s website at http://www.christinedonovan.org/

  Also by Christine Donovan

  A Seabrook Family Saga Series

  THE RELUCTANT DUKE

  THE LADY AND THE EARL

  THE LADY MUST CHOOSE

  LORD SEBASTIAN AND THE SCOTTISH LASS

  SPENCER MEETS HIS LADY LOVE

  A Standish Bay Romance Series

  BLACKJACK

  BRIDGET

  MITCH

  A Single Title Contemporary

  SUNSET BEACH

  A Novella

  VENETIAN HOLIDAY

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful, beautiful, intelligent and creative seven-year-old granddaughter, Olivia Christine Donovan. She lights up my days with her smile.

  She asked me the other day if I will write a kids book with her. Perhaps my next endeavor will be co-writing a children’s book with Olivia. Nothing could make me prouder or more excited!

  I love you Olivia!

  Thank you to my husband, Michael and my four sons, Shawn, Matt, Danny and Joey. My granddaughter, Olivia, who never fails to make me smile and keeps life real. As always, to my mother, Alberta Murray, my sister, Karen Gomer for always supporting me. To my RIRW friends, Carolyn Sullivan, Jeanne Paglio and Joanne Smart for their encouragement and friendship throughout the years.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  SUMMARY

  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

  EPILOGUE

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  OTHER BOOKS IN THIS SERIES

  Chapter One

  August 1818

  Miss Mary Spencer could hardly believe her good fortune at having the Bow Street Runner, and the man of her fantasies, Mr. Smythe riding with Aunt Violet, her sister Elizabeth, and herself for the twelve hours it would take to get to Cliff House in Hastings, the summer residence of the Marquess of Amesbury. Well, Smythe wasn’t actually occupying the coach with them but riding on horseback looking lethal with a sinister rifle across his lap and two pistols in his holster. She imagined he had knives stashed somewhere on his person where she couldn’t see.

  Her body vibrated with awareness and other things she didn’t understand at the sight of him. If she were a criminal she would run the other way in utter fear of her life.

  “Why do you have an odd expression on your face,” her elder sister by one year, Liz, who recently decided to be called by her complete name, Elizabeth, asked, straining her neck to see out Mary’s window. Her sister looked lovely in her navy blue traveling clothes with matching bonnet. While Mary’s hair was light, Elizabeth’s was dark, but they both shared the same blue eyes.

  Mary leaned forward, trying to block her view. “I don’t.” With heat burning her cheeks she knew she would not be able to hide her feelings for Mr. Smythe from her rather astute sister.

  Elizabeth smiled the smile she did when she knew Mary had a secret. “You may as well tell me because I won’t stop pestering you until you do
.”

  Mary closed her eyes and was thankful Aunt Violet, as she wanted to be called, appeared to be sleeping. Aunt Violet was their sister-in-law, Miranda’s aunt, and traveling with them as their chaperon. Their brother, Mr. Stuart Spencer, Spencer to all his friends and his new wife, Miranda, would join them in five days’ time. Unfortunately, Aunt Violet was still recovering from being kidnapped and attacked by her scoundrel of a husband in the spring. Her only concession to traveling with them was with the accompaniment of the runner. “It appears I find Mr. Smythe appealing.” There, she’d said it and it didn’t seem all that strange voicing it out loud.

  “I knew it!” Elizabeth squealed, waking Violet up. Both girls remained silent until she nodded off again. Her head dropped forward at an odd angle, and she began to snore softly.

  “How did you know?” Mary asked as she smoothed out her skirts, giving her hands something to do.

  “Only you and I know about the night and day you nursed Mr. Smythe after his injury, when Miranda and Aunt Violet were kidnapped and everyone else was out looking for them. It wasn’t hard to realize because you’ve been acting lovesick since Spencer mentioned he would be escorting us.”

  Mary placed her hands on her cheeks. “Dear heavens, do you think Spencer noticed? I couldn’t live with myself if I caused trouble between he and Mr. Smythe.”

  “You do realize our brother will never allow him to court you? Although we all admire the man and all he’s done for us and our family and friends.” Elizabeth stared out the window and sighed. “As much as our brother is indebted to the man, I still don’t think he would find him a suitable match for you.”

  With a woeful sigh, Mary leaned back against the padded squabs, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the ache in her chest and the tears stinging her eyes. “I know all this, but I can’t help hoping and wishing. I daydream about him and he intrudes on my dreams at night. This behavior coming from me, the sensible sister. I’ve never done anything remotely outside proper decorum members of the Beau Monde are supposed to adhere to.” She glanced at Elizabeth and half smiled. “Not like someone else I know. It’s a wonder you haven’t caused a scandal and found yourself married to someone nasty and appalling.” Her eyes traveled back out the window, not really seeing anything. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, especially our brother, but I think I’m in love with him.”

  This time when Elizabeth squealed, Violet opened her eyes. “I heard every word. And if you ask me, which you didn’t, that man has saved many lives, including Miranda’s and mine. One may think he is worthy. You never know until you speak with Spencer.”

  Violet had the sisters’ attention completely.

  “You may be surprised at your brother’s feelings about Mr. Smythe. Now, if you girls don’t mind, I’m going back to sleep so I can dream of my own handsome lover.” She cleared her throat. “Oh dear, did I say lover...pardon...I mean handsome gentleman. And don’t look at me like that. I’m only forty. Still young enough to live...and love.”

  “What about you and Amesbury,” Mary asked Elizabeth softly when Violet appeared to be sleeping for real this time and not pretending. “I know how your mind works, and if I’m not mistaken, if he hasn’t declared himself by the end of our visit, you my dear, devious, over-imaginative sister, will do something shocking to force his suit.” Mary sighed wistfully. She could never do anything shocking. Sometimes she wished she had a small portion of Elizabeth’s courage.

  Mary turned sideways on the bench, hoping to study her sister’s facial expression. Alas, she remained with her head turned toward the window and kept silent. Her body barely twitching.

  “I...I hope you won’t cause a scandal. I know what it’s like to love someone you may never marry.” Although Elizabeth had a better chance of marrying Amesbury than Mary did Mr. Smythe, which made fighting back tears even more difficult the more she dreamed of her very own Bow Street Runner.

  Would she dare put herself in a compromising situation to force Mr. Smythe to ask for her hand? She didn’t believe herself capable of doing such a thing on purpose. Some would think her nursing him after his injury this past spring would have caused a scandal and ruined her. Good thing no one other than her sister knew.

  “Have you thought about what happens...when a man...” Elizabeth whispered as she turned and looked at Mary, shocking her at what she’d hinted at. Mary had some knowledge of the marriage bed, but not all of it. Only what her imagination allowed or what she heard whispered in drawing rooms and at balls. Or from some ridiculous book she and Elizabeth once found in their brother’s chambers. She knew it involved nakedness and letting one’s husband do as he pleased. It was the doing as he pleased that confused her.

  “I know little except for what we saw in that book.” Mary spoke barely above a whisper so as not to disturb Violet. The last thing they needed was more embarrassment and questions from their newly appointed aunt.

  Elizabeth sighed and frowned. “As do I. I know I act as if I know everything, but sadly I don’t.” Then her face glowed and her lips curved up into a secretive smile. “Amesbury kissed me once. My heart jumped inside my chest, my palms sweated so unladylike, and my brain tingled as well as the rest of my body.” She paused and leaned back on the seat. “He used his tongue.”

  Mary gasped, her eyes widening, “Go on, please.”

  “First his lips pressed against mine. They were surprisingly soft and warm.” The tip of her index finger touched her lips. “When I opened my mouth to breathe or gasp, I can’t remember which, he slanted his head, pulled me closer using his hand at the small of my back and plunged his tongue into my mouth.”

  They both gasped in unison, then sighed.

  “Shocked.” Elizabeth continued. “There are no other words to describe it. Indeed, I had heard about kissing with tongues, I just never imagined refined people such as us partaking in something so shocking.” Elizabeth paused, which had Mary on the edge of her seat.

  “Please don’t keep me in suspense. What happened next.” Mary needed to know because if she couldn’t marry her beloved Mr. Smythe she believed she would die an innocent spinster, never having been kissed properly. Living vicariously through her sister would be her only option. May as well start now.

  “I twirled my tongue with his. Then it was over. It happened at the beginning of the Season. Sometimes I think I dreamed it. I want to feel that way again. Reckless and free and loved.” Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

  “You will.”

  “How do you know?” Her sister’s wishful expression had Mary hopeful for her own situation.

  “I just do. Besides, Amesbury has to marry and produce an heir. If he kissed you, he must have feelings for you. Why wouldn’t he marry you? Do you think Mr. Smythe will kiss me someday?”

  Elizabeth glanced at her, compassion evident in her blue eyes so like her own. “For his and your sake, I pray not. It wouldn’t end well I’m afraid. You don’t want to cause a scandal and have Spencer send you to the country to live out your days as a spinster. Or worse, he’d marry you to a widower with a score of children, and you’ll spend your life raising someone else’s chits. Besides, what would I do without you?”

  Mary refused to believe her sister. If Spencer highly trusted and admired Smythe, why wasn’t he good enough for her? She didn’t care if she had to reside in a less desirable part of London. Even in a rundown tenement in St. Giles as long as she and Smythe were together. Smythe, good God she didn’t even know his Christian name. Hopeless. Her life was hopeless.

  While Mary daydreamed, Elizabeth leaned against her and dozed. She, however, stared wide-eyed out the window hoping for a glimpse of Smythe. When he didn’t enter her range of vision she leaned back, pulled the blanket resting on her lap up to her chin, and closed her tired eyes. Her mind raced for a time until sleep took over and she had peace.

  EVER SINCE THEY HIT the outskirts of London, Mr. Robert Smythe, Bow Street Runner, had fidgeted in his saddle as a familiar awareness pri
ckled up and down his spine. He’d always had a perceptive intuition. It kept him and his men alive. Not to mention keeping himself safe when he’d lived on the streets as a young lad. But bloody hell, not now.

  Spencer had hired him to keep the ladies safe, and he would do anything to accomplish the task. Even give his life without a moment’s hesitation. As they continued down a normally well-traveled road—strange they were the only carriage within sight—suspicions came and went, keeping him on high alert. His intense eyes scanned the area continually but came up empty until up ahead dark thunderous clouds threatened their otherwise uneventful journey.

  By late afternoon Smythe decided to make an unexpected stop at the Horse and Pony Inn for the night. He didn’t mind pushing through the storm, but the horses were skittish and the roads turning impassable. After eating an early dinner, Robert saw to it the three ladies were locked in one room together and traipsed to the barn to bed down with the driver and one outrider. The other outrider he sent ahead to Cliff House to advise Lord Amesbury of their change in plans. Smythe proceeded to toss and turn until he gave up on sleep, made his way back inside the inn, and sat down with his back leaning up against the door of the room the ladies occupied. No one would get in or out without going through him.

  Eventually he nodded off and dreamed about one of the ladies inside...Mary. A lady so above his station he had to be daft in the head to conceive of ever being with her in the way he wanted. Well, he decided he was indeed daft in the head because he couldn’t imagine not seeing her or worse, seeing her married to some dandy who didn’t know his arse from his elbow.

  Near disasters had a habit of wreaking havoc on her family and friends. He’d been employed quite a few times in the past two years by the lot of them. The odds of him being hired in the future and being forced to watch Mary interact with the man she married was a plausible scenario.

  Confound it, he was doomed to a life devoid of love. He knew in his heart he would never marry or love another. Mary, only Mary. Spending twenty-four hours in her presence during his convalescence from a knife wound several months ago was all it took. He’d fallen fast and hard and knew he’d never recover or regain his heart back.