Page 2 of An Earl's Scandalous Return
“It is difficult to find a sunny day in London, my love. Especially in the springtime. But next month, when we have the wedding, it may be easier.”
“Oh surely, God will look kindly upon us and grant us one sunny day for a beautiful wedding?” Jacinda asked, making everyone burst into laughter.
Arabella smiled and listened as they continued to share their hopes and dreams for their wedding day. The ghost of her past, however, continued to prey upon her. She thought she’d been rid of him for years, but now he was returning with a vengeance.
She drank the rest of her champagne and prayed for strength. Love was a long time ago. It could certainly be forgotten with enough time.
Could it not?
Chapter 2
London, the Duke of Vanier’s home
Edward James, Earl of Jameson, only son of the Duke of Vanier, stood at his father’s familiar doorstep, the same red door in front of him. It had been four years since he’d seen it, since he’d even set foot in England, but now it was as familiar to him as if he’d only been gone a few days.
He looked around. The light was growing dim, but people were still on foot or in carriages, returning home from a late luncheon or meeting with friends. He saw the nannies taking their charges back to their homes, children skipping on the cobblestones. Large, beautifully fronted homes lined the expensive street, and he took a big breath of London air.
Home.
He hoped his father would still be awake to greet him. He wasn’t sure how well he was feeling that day, but Edward hoped that with his surprise return, his father would begin to get better again. With a slight nervous ball in his stomach, he knocked on the door. It opened quickly, and on the other side, a delighted butler grinned at him.
“Young Master Edward!” Mr Greaves cried, a big smile creasing his wizened face. “Your father will be so pleased to have you back.”
Edward chuckled, glad to know that even though he was thirty years of age and an earl, the old butler still saw him as a little boy.
“Thank you, Greaves.”
“Come in, come in!” the butler said, patting him on the shoulder as he stepped inside. “You will have to tell me all about your adventures one day.”
“I will, I will, of course. It is good to see you. I see you are holding down the fort most admirably, Greaves.”
The butler beamed with pleasure. “Always. And your father has always eagerly awaited your return.”
“Thank you, Greaves.”
Mr Greaves took his hat and coat and sent footmen out to collect the trunk from the waiting carriage. As he did, Edward took in his home. He strolled out of the entrance hall and into the main foyer. It was just as Edward remembered it, and he knew that his father would not have done much to the place in his illness.
But Edward felt it was odd it should be so the same, for it felt like he had undergone such a transformation in the past four years on the Continent.
“Your father is in the library, Master Edward. Perhaps you would like to surprise him.”
Edward turned and gave his old butler a big smile. “Yes, I think I would.”
He made his way there, thinking over what he might say. He’d left hurriedly four years ago with hardly any suitable explanation. He wondered if his father would forgive him. Swallowing hard, he knocked on the door before he opened it. When he did, he found his father seated in one of the thick armchairs by the fire, a newspaper in hand.
“Greaves, what was all that noise at the front door?”
Edward smiled, his heart loosening at long last at having returned home. He smiled at his father’s dark hair, which was now a little threaded with gray. A pang of guilt assailed him. His father was ill, and yet he had run away in anger and hurt. He hadn’t had the courage to return until now.
Clearing his throat, he strode right up to him, his hands behind his back. “Father,” he said, and his father jerked his head to the side, staring at him with wide eyes.
“Edward,” he cried in surprise before he tossed down the newspaper and got to his feet.
Edward smiled as his father rushed to embrace him. “Good Lord, thanks be to God you are well and back to see me again.”
His father held him tightly for a few moments before he let go. Edward was pleased that his father was not angry, and when he looked into his face, he could see that his eyes were moist.
“What brings you home at long last, Edward?” his father asked, moving to pour them both a glass of brandy.
