Infinitely My Marquess Read online

  “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

  ― Lao Tzu

  Contents

  Ever Beloved 3

  Infinitely My Marquess

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Sneak Peek: Rebellious Angel

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  About Dawn Brower

  Also by Dawn Brower

  Thank You

  Infinitely My Marquess

  Ever Beloved 3

  Dawn Brower

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Infinitely My Marquess Copyright © 2019 Dawn Brower

  Cover art and edits by Victoria Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This book is for everyone that believes in love and hope to one day find it. Sometimes you just have to have faith, and sometimes it has been there all along. Keep believing and someday love may find you.

  Acknowledgments

  As always thanks to my cover artist, Victoria Miller. You are fabulous as always. Also thanks to Elizabeth Evans—you make writing fun. Thank you for helping me and reading all my rough drafts.

  Prologue

  England 1795

  Wedding Bells echoed through the countryside, announcing the impending wedding of Lord Victor Simms, the second son of the Duke of Ashthrone, and Lady Penelope Everly. It wasn’t the first marriage for either one of them. Little Ryan Simms was excited to finally have a mother. It had been his father and him for as long as he could remember. Soon, he’d have a mother and two sisters as well—Delilah and Mirabella. Delilah was two years older than Ryan and had the blackest hair he’d ever seen. Mirabella had red hair and was a year younger than him. Ryan had celebrated his seventh birthday a month before the wedding.

  “How are you doing, my boy?” His father leaned down and ruffled his hair. “Are you happy?”

  “Yes, Papa,” he answered. He wanted to tell his father he’d never been happier, but he didn’t know if he could. His father seemed to have a lighter mood, and he didn’t want to remind him of sadder times. His touch had always been gentle, but he’d been gloomy more often than not. Even a boy of seven recognized grief, and though he’d never known his mother, Ryan still missed her every day. Lady Penelope couldn’t replace that hole, but she could fill it partially.

  “I’m glad,” his father said. “It feels wonderful to have joy in our lives. Now run off to sit with the nanny. Be a good boy.”

  Ryan did as his father said and ran to sit with his nanny in the pew. Delilah and Mirabella were already there. They sat with their back straight and somber expressions on their faces. Were they not glad to be a part of a whole family again? Why did they seem so—unhappy?

  Lady Penelope walked down the church aisle and joined Ryan’s father. The vicar said a lot of things Ryan didn’t fully understand, but he didn’t really care. All that mattered was he’d have a family at the end. One that would always be there for him, shower him with love, attention, and lots of hugs. He really wished he had someone who hugged him more often. He’d seen a mother and son once. He hadn’t known what he missed until that day. The woman had pulled her boy into her arms, hugging and kissing him as if he were the most precious thing to her.

  The vicar asked his father to repeat some words, and then Lady Penelope. They both had done as he asked. At the conclusion, he declared them wed. Everyone in the church clapped their hands. A smile filled Ryan’s face, and he clapped along with them.

  “He’s a foolish boy,” Delilah said, turning her nose up in the air. “I can’t believe we have to deal with him every day now.”

  Mirabella nodded, but Ryan didn’t think she even understood Delilah. Girls were an enigma he couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever figure out. Especially since he’d never had to deal with any of them before. “What is foolish?”

  “He doesn’t even realize what an insult is,” Delilah scoffed. “I suppose that might make things more interesting.

  Ryan didn’t think so, but at the moment he didn’t care to decipher what she meant. He shrugged and tugged nanny’s sleeve. “Is it time to leave yet? I’m sleepy.” He was seven, and he’d already done more than he usually did. His father didn’t let him leave the house much. It was as if he feared he’d lose Ryan if he lost sight of him. Nanny coddled him at his father’s behest.

  “As soon as the happy couple leaves, we can follow behind them.”

  Ryan nodded and waited for his father and his new mother to depart the church. Then nanny could take him home. Maybe he could play with his toy soldiers in his room. He rather liked the peace and quiet. There’d been too much noise of late in his home. Everyone had to come to visit for the wedding. He even had a new cousin—Lady Estella. She was a tiny baby and couldn’t play with him, but he liked looking at her. Nanny helped take care of her while they visited so he got to peek at her often.

  Finally, his father and Lady Penelope headed down the aisle. After they exited the church, everyone stood to follow them out. Nanny took his hand and turned to Delilah and Mirabella. “Come with me, girls.”

  “We don’t have to listen to you,” Delilah said haughtily.

  “Yeah, no listen,” Mirabella echoed.

  Nanny let out an exasperated breath. “I don’t have time for a temper tantrum. You two come with me now, or I’ll wring your ears.”

  Delilah stood and turned her head defiantly. “I am walking out, but not because you told me too. I want to go home, and I shall.” Mirabella ran after her as they exited the church.

  Ryan placed his hand in nanny’s. “Do they know the way?”

  “I don’t know, poppet,” she said. “We best follow after them. Those two are going to make me crazy. Pretty soon we will long for the quiet, and have trouble recalling what it was like.”

  He nodded at nanny even though he didn’t understand. Why would he not have any more quiet? Shouldn’t he always have it in his room? That was his safe space. He supposed he’d figure it out later. It was a happy day. His father told him so, and he chose to believe it.

  England 1800

  “Ryan,” his stepmother shouted. Her shrill voice pierced his eardrums even from the distance that separated them. He still couldn’t believe he’d been excited to have that woman as a mother. “Come down here now, you silly boy.”

  He stared at the bare walls of the attic she forced him to sleep in. His nice bedroom had been taken away and given to Delilah. Oh, it hadn’t happened at first, but once his father died Lady Penelope had gained complete control over him. He should be preparing to go to Eton, yet he remained stuck as Lady Penelope’s unpaid labor. She claimed they didn’t have the funds to send him to school and give her girls the proper education they deserved. So she’d hired tutors for them all. He got his education by default. She wouldn’t have have allowed him to meet with the tutor at all if she could have prevented it; however, his grandfather, the Duke of Ashthrone insisted on quarterly reports. If he didn’t hear from Lady Penelope, then they wouldn’t receive any funds.
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  Ryan hopped down the stairs two at a time and headed into the sitting room. Lady Penelope sat on the chaise reading a book. Her two daughters, Mirabella and Delilah were in chairs opposite of her. Delilah worked on needle work, and Mirabella painted watercolors on a canvas.

  “It’s about time,” Lady Penelope scoffed. “I need you to start a fire. It’s getting chilly in the room.”

  His stepmother had dismissed almost all the servants. Another way to be frugal and spend money on her daughters and herself—they were all selfish. The only staff they’d kept was a cook and a driver. Ryan couldn’t be seen on top a carriage driving them around. That would make it back to his grandfather, and then she’d have a lot to answer for. As far as cooking—Lady Penelope had tried to make him do that. She’d given up when she realized he was horrid at it. He’d never been so grateful he was terrible at something. Ryan had practically been his stepmother’s slave since his father’s death a few years ago. He couldn’t wait until he came into his inheritance, small that it was, and make Lady Penelope leave his home. Surely she had relatives she could live with. He’d never disliked anyone as much as he did his stepmother and two stepsisters.

  “Right away,” Ryan replied.

  He set to work lighting the kindling in the hearth. Soon flames licked the wood and warmth spread outward. Ryan stood and brushed his hand over his pants, leaving a streak of ashes and soot in their wake.

  “Go and wash. You look disgraceful.”

  Ryan clenched his jaw tight and nodded at his stepmother. He didn’t trust himself to speak. A loud boom echoed through the hall, followed by a bellow, “Where is everyone in this blasted house?”

  Lady Penelope leaped to her feet to rush out of the room, but she didn’t make it two steps before the owner of the bellow entered. “There you all are.” He looked at Ryan and frowned. “What do you have all over you?”

  It was the Duke of Ashthrone himself—Ryan’s grandfather had finally come to check on him. He hadn’t been at the house since his father’s death. He honestly didn’t understand why the duke had left him with his stepmother. At the time, he’d been grateful for it. His grandfather was not a kind man, and he’d believed his stepmother the better of the two options. He’d thought he had to stay there until it was time to go to Eton. But that hadn’t happened.

  “Hello, grandfather,” Ryan greeted him. “I was lighting a fire for the ladies.” He didn’t say that Lady Penelope had made him do it. That would have earned him several lashings with her favorite whip. His stepmother had an evil side that rivaled any malevolent entity. For the life of him, Ryan didn’t understand what his father had ever seen in the woman. Her two daughters were fast becoming miniature versions of her too.

  “That’s what servants are for, boy.” He glanced around the room. “Go fetch me one. We’re going to need assistance for what I have in mind.”

  Ryan glanced at his stepmother for direction. He didn’t know who he should fetch—the driver? They didn’t have maids or footmen. They had Ryan to do all of that. He wasn’t sure how his grandfather would react to the news that his grandson did all the dirty work around the house. The duke had always looked down on those in lesser stations. Would it change how his grandfather perceived him? He hoped not. That might not bode well for his future if it did.

  “Is that necessary?” Lady Penelope asked. “The fire is already lit. Ryan’s a good boy taking care of us, and he can assist you with whatever it is you need.”

  He barely refrained from rolling his eyes. His stepmother was good… She sounded so sweet an innocent. Ryan knew better—nothing pure or honest lived inside of that woman.

  “I suppose,” the duke agreed. “I’m not staying long. I’ve come to fetch the boy.”

  “Oh?” Lady Penelope said with a tilt of her head. “I thought you trusted me to see to his care.” More like she didn’t want to lose her servant…

  The duke glared at her. That one look seemed to say, How dare you question my actions? Ryan wanted to perfect a look like that. It had shut his stepmother’s mouth faster than anything he’d ever witnessed.

  “My grandson needs to learn his proper place in the world. That will not happen here. It looks as if my other son, the Marquess of Cinderbury will only have a daughter. His wife is unable to bear any more children, which makes this boy my heir. He’ll be a duke someday, and he has to understand that responsibility.”

  “I see,” Lady Penelope said. “Must you rush off today?”

  “Yes,” the duke said with finality. He turned to Ryan. “You have ten minutes to pack.”

  Ryan didn’t need to be told twice. He practically ran out of the room and up to the attic. There wasn’t much he wanted to take with him. He had a small trunk in his room that contained all of his belongings. His stepmother didn’t think he rated a real armoire. So all he did was grab his trunk and drag it down the stairs. He didn’t even stop to make sure it was all there. It didn’t matter if he left anything behind.

  His grandfather waited for him in the foyer. In some ways, the duke had turned into a cantankerous old fairy godfather to him. Strangely, that description fit him rather well. Though he might not be as old as Ryan believed—he was twelve, and everyone older than him seemed ancient.

  “That was much faster than I expected,” his grandfather stated. “Maybe you won’t be a lost cause after all. You were a sniveling child the last time I saw you.”

  If the duke had bothered to check up on him, he’d have realized Ryan had to grow up much faster than any boy should. First, he’d lost his mother before he realized what that even meant, and then his father several years after that. His heart had hardened, and he doubted he’d ever feel anything ever again. Emotions led to heartache, and he had no use for them. His grandfather might be his benefactor now, but he was far from benevolent.

  “I don’t need much,” he told his grandfather. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  He nodded at Ryan and they headed outside to his carriage. Neither one of them stopped to say goodbye to Lady Penelope or her daughters. Ryan because he hated them all, and the duke probably didn’t give them any thought. In some ways, he was similar to them. He had expectations and would make sure Ryan met them, but at least his grandfather would prepare him for his future. His stepmother had wanted to use him as a slave. It was a trade-off he’d more than willingly take. Some things were worth taking a chance on. Not that his grandfather gave him much of a choice. He had to go back to his estate and learn everything about being a duke. He hoped he didn’t turn into an irritable old man like him.

  The carriage rattled on the drive. The tiny house that had once meant something to him grew smaller and smaller as the carriage rolled down the road. At one time, he believed that could be a real home to him with a family that loved him. Some things weren’t meant to be, and he’d never have a doting mother in his life. At least Penelope would no longer have any control over him. It was his past, and he never wanted to see her or his stepsisters ever again.

  His stepmother could have his childhood home. He’d much rather keep distance between them and forget they existed. His grandfather would shape him into a man capable of having complete control over his life. Ryan tried to find some part of his soul that remained happy and pure, but Penelope had snuffed it out of him after his father died. Now all he could do was move on and try to be a better person than those around him. He vowed no woman would ever have power over him again…

  Chapter One

  Kent 1816

  The carriage rattled as it traveled over the road. Sun streamed through the windows, highlighting the velvet-lined seats. Lady Annalise Palmer stared out the window at the various trees as they traveled. Not that the scenery was particularly breathtaking, though it did hold some appeal, but because she couldn’t be sure of her reception once they reached their destination. She’d written her stepsister, Estella—the new Viscountess of Warwick and explained why she’d acted as she had; however, that didn’t mean she’d forgive he
r. She’d received a letter from Estella, inviting her to visit Manchester Castle. Annalise couldn’t help wondering why they were in Kent, and not Warwick’s estate.

  “Did you really need to travel out here to see Estella?” Her brother, Marrok—the Marquess of Sheffield asked. “I hate long carriage rides.”

  “Not as much as I do,” she answered bitterly. “You’re a horrible traveling companion.”

  “Be glad I agreed to accompany you. Father never would have let you out of the abbey otherwise.” Marrok yawned loudly. “He’s still quite angry for your part in helping Estella marry Warwick.”

  Her father, the Duke of Wolfton, had no idea everything she had done to help Estella. He thought she’d sent her funds to live on, but she’d done far more than that. Her father was not a good man and had done his best to make sure Estella would remain miserable the rest of her life. Annalise had wanted to help her sooner, but hadn’t known how it could be possible. The duke watched her every move, and if she’d even tried, he’d have found a way to prevent it. She’d had to be smarter than him, and that requited an enormous amount of patience. Her scheming had paid off when she found a way to bring Estella together with the man she loved.

  “I have no regrets,” she said. “Estella needed my help.”

  “I don’t disagree. Father is an arse—Estella should never have been sent away.” Marrok stretched his arms over his head. “How long have we been in this bloody carriage anyway?”