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I'll Always Love You




  I’ll Always Love You

  Books by Ella Quinn

  The Marriage Game

  THE SEDUCTION OF LADY PHOEBE

  THE SECRET LIFE OF MISS ANNA MARSH

  THE TEMPTATION OF LADY SERENA

  DESIRING LADY CARO

  ENTICING MISS EUGENIE VILLARET

  A KISS FOR LADY MARY

  LADY BERESFORD’S LOVER

  MISS FEATHERTON’S CHRISTMAS PRINCE

  The Worthingtons

  THREE WEEKS TO WED

  WHEN A MARQUIS CHOOSES A BRIDE

  IT STARTED WITH A KISS

  THE MARQUIS AND I

  YOU NEVER FORGET YOUR FIRST EARL

  Novellas

  MADELEINE’S CHRISTMAS WISH

  THE SECOND TIME AROUND

  I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

  I’ll Always Love You

  Ella Quinn

  ZEBRA BOOKS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  Contents

  I’ll Always Love You

  Books by Ella Quinn

  I’ll Always Love You

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  AUTHOR NOTES

  PREVIEW

  CHAPTER ONE

  Copyright

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  ZEBRA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2018 by Ella Quinn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Zebra Books and Zebra logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: December 2018

  eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-4854-1

  eISBN-10: 1-4201-4854-0

  Dedication

  For my wonderful granddaughters, Josephine and Vivianne. May you find someone you’ll always love.

  Acknowledgments

  Anyone involved in publishing knows it takes a team effort to get a book from that inkling in an author’s head to the printed or digital page. I’d like to thank my beta readers, Jenna, Doreen, and Margaret, for their comments and suggestions. To my agents, Deidre Knight and Janna Bonikowski, for helping me think through parts of this book

  To my wonderful editor, John Scognamiglio, who loves my books enough to contract them for Kensington. To the Kensington team, Vida, Jane, and Lauren, who do such a tremendous job of publicity. And to the copy editors who find all the niggling mistakes I never am able to see.

  Last, but certainly not least, to my readers. Without you, none of this would be worth it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my stories!

  I love to hear from my readers, so feel free to contact me on my website and on Facebook. I also have a Facebook group for The Worthingtons. Please feel free to contact me if you have questions. My social media links and my newsletter link can be found at www.ellaquinnauthor.com.

  On to the next book!

  Ella

  CHAPTER ONE

  Late March 1816

  Rothwell Abbey

  Lady Lucinda Hughlot, daughter of the former Duke of Rothwell and sister of the current duke, listened at the not-quite-closed door to her brother’s study.

  “Really, Rothwell.” Her mother’s exasperation resonated in every word. “I do not understand why Louisa cannot simply sponsor Lucinda herself.”

  “Mother, we have had this discussion before.” Silence fell, and Lucinda knew he was trying to find another way of making the argument. “As you are well aware, Louisa gave birth not a month ago.” Well, that wasn’t new. Of course Mama knew. She’d been there. “I will not have her fagged to death trotting all over Town escorting Lucinda to entertainments. You will have to do your bit as well.”

  “Aside from that,” Louisa said in a weary tone, “it would appear odd if you did not.”

  “I agree with Louisa,” Rothwell said. “You are not at death’s door, or even slightly ill.”

  “I could become so.” Mama’s dry tone would have been funny if Lucinda’s Season were not at stake.

  “In that event, we would not be able to go to Town,”—Louisa was beginning to sound as frustrated as Rothwell—“and that would end this argument about Lucinda’s Season.”

  Lucinda bit down hard on her lip. Her mother had not been in society of any sort since Papa died. Although she had not been told the whole story—of that she was certain—there appeared to have been a scandal of some sort.

  Unfortunately, there was little she could do about the decision. Rothwell was right. It was not fair for his wife to do everything for her when Mama was perfectly capable of doing her share.

  “Are they still at it?” Her brother Anthony whispered, making Lucinda jump.

  “Yes. Mama is still refusing to go to Town, and Rothwell is refusing to allow Louisa to be dragged all around chaperoning me.”

  Tony put a hand on her shoulder. “It will come out all right in the end. Rothwell and Louisa will get their way. But if you don’t want to get in trouble for eavesdropping, you’d better come away from here.”

  Lucinda did not understand what made Tony so sure. Neither of them had had an opportunity to come to know their sister-in-law well. Shortly after Rothwell’s marriage, Mama had insisted they repair to The Roses, her dower property, about a day’s drive away. The whole family had spent Christmas at the abbey, and Lucinda had enjoyed seeing Louisa and her brother together, but there was not much time to actually speak with her.

  Naturally, Mama had come for the birth of Rothwell and Louisa’s daughter, Lady Alexandria Charlotte Hughlot, but Lucinda had been left at The Roses. Yet despite not having spent much time with Louisa, Lucinda thought her sister-in-law had a great deal of sense. And even though she and Louisa were the same age, she seemed much more mature—that might have come from having had a Season—and was a force to be reckoned with. She had even saved hers and Rothwell’s lives.

  “You would deny your sister a Season?” Mama asked.

  “No, you would deny her a Season.” Rothwell’s hard tone made Lucinda’s heart drop. “What is it to be?”

  The silence seemed to stretch into hours. “Very well. I shall go, but if the gossip starts up again because I am present, it will be on your head.”

&nb
sp; Lucinda glanced at Tony. “Gossip? Because of the scandal?”

  “Go.” He turned her around and gave her a push. “They are coming out.”

  She dashed off to the morning room. By the time the sound of padding feet could be heard down the corridor, and her brother and sister-in-law entered the room, she had an open book in her hands. Not that she had read any of it. At least her breathing had stilled.

  Rothwell stood in the doorway. “It’s done. Mama is not happy about it, but she will accompany us to Town.”

  “Thank you.” Lucinda set the book aside, then rushed to her brother and hugged him. “There are two things I do not understand. Why is Mama so reluctant to go to London? And is the Season truly that busy?”

  “To one who has not had a Season, it does not seem possible, but yes.” Louisa pulled a face. “Balls, dinners, breakfasts, morning visits, picnics, the theater and opera, Almack’s…and those are just the most common entertainments. When I came out last year, it took me more than two weeks to get used to it all.”

  “Not only that.” Rothwell led Louisa to the sofa. “Worthington”—Louisa’s brother—“insisted that she and her sister leave after supper because the younger children rose early in the morning. So, they weren’t even up all night.”

  “Very true. I am not sure I could stay up all night. Especially now.”

  Her brother grinned. “In any event, we leave in a few days.”

  “But how will we manage it all? There is packing to do, and the servants to arrange, and—”

  “Done, all of it.” Rothwell patted his wife’s knee. “Louisa was convinced Mama would change her mind. She put it all in motion over a week ago.”

  “Your mother does not know,” Louisa said. “And please do not tell her.”

  “That brings me back to my first question. Why does Mama not wish to go to London? She used to like it a great deal.”

  Rothwell glanced at Louisa, who nodded. “When I returned last year, I discovered Father had suffered from dementia. Consequently, he forgot he had a wife and family. That not only embarrassed our mother—she didn’t even tell me until I had started asking questions about the finances—but it caused her to feel ashamed that she’d done nothing.” He shrugged. “Not that there was much she could have done with me in Canada.”

  “Your brother and I feel that she needs to go back into Polite Society, and the only way we could think of doing it was to insist she be present for your Season. It is also true that I cannot, with a new baby, do all the entertaining and gadding about that will be required to fire you off successfully. Aside from that, she loves you and wants to see you settled. That said, she does not understand—or, rather, agree—with my decision to nurse Alexandria. She would much rather I hand my child over to Nurse.” Louisa chuckled. “In some ways, Nurse would like that as well. But I was not raised that way, and neither will my children be.”

  Well, that was more than anyone had told Lucinda before. “She almost never mentions Papa anymore. Do you think there will be gossip?”

  Louisa exchanged a glance with Rothwell, then said, “No. There have been other events that have overshadowed your father’s behavior before he died.”

  “His friends,” Rothwell said, taking up the story, “know what happened, and they do not blame him for excesses over which he had no control. I think all will be fine, and Mama will enjoy being back in London.”

  “What would you have done if she had not agreed?”

  “I had one more card to play.” Her brother’s lips twisted into a grim smile. “I would have told her Louisa was not up to holding a ball in your honor if she had to escort you everywhere.”

  Louisa’s eyes widened in shock. “I can see how that would work. Although, I never actually had a ball in my honor. None of us did. Grace had no time to plan one because of all the weddings.”

  “Just as well.” Rothwell put his arm around Louisa and pulled her closer. “Some other gentleman might have found you.”

  She smiled lovingly at him. “I think I was waiting for you and did not know it.”

  Love was grand, but they seemed to have forgotten Lucinda was in the room. She cleared her throat. “Should I go to Mama?”

  Rothwell gave a start, which, for some reason, pleased Lucinda to no end. “I did not know you were still here.”

  Obviously, otherwise he would not have kissed his wife. “I was able to work that out all on my own.”

  He flushed, and his voice was gruffer when he said, “Yes, well. I would not go to her now, but you may tell your maid to begin packing.”

  Lucinda had to stop herself from skipping out of the room. She hadn’t engaged in such behavior in years, but if she were to do it, now would be the perfect time. Instead, she strode as swiftly as she could, almost racing up the stairs to her chamber.

  “Greene, come quickly.” Lucinda opened the door to the dressing room. Empty. Where could she be? She reached for the bellpull and tugged it.

  Several moments later, her maid entered the room. “My lady?”

  “Not a word to anyone yet. The matter has finally been settled. We are going to London in a few days.”

  “That’s what the senior staff thought would happen.” Greene nodded. “And a good thing it is too. You deserve to have your come out, and no one could expect her grace to chaperone you all by herself. I’ll make sure all the clothes you’re taking are ready, then have the trunks brought down.”

  The clothes I’m taking? “Why wouldn’t I bring everything?”

  “You’ll have new gowns waiting for a final fitting once we get to London.” Greene went into the dressing room, as if that answered Lucinda’s question.

  Not willing to let the comment go, she followed on her maid’s heels. “How would I have new garments waiting?”

  “I gave her grace’s maid your measurements when we were here at Christmas. She sent them to her grace’s modiste.”

  Christmas! Louisa had been that sure Lucinda would have her Season. Her good opinion of her sister-in-law rose even higher. Since Lucinda did not have to worry about garments, she could begin gathering the other things she wished to take. After all, she might not return at the end of the Season.

  * * * *

  Early April 1816

  Mayfair, London, England

  Gerald, Earl Elliott, strode out of his mother’s parlor, up the corridor, into the hall, and out the front door of his house on Mount Street, almost forgetting to take his hat and cane from his butler.

  The woman was going to drive him mad with her demands to redecorate every public room in the house. Not that he liked the Egyptian furniture that was there now. But it was his house, and he wished to redecorate it as he liked. And who knew what Mother would select this time. After all, she was the one who chose that horrible Egyptian stuff in the first place. Unfortunately, his mother—as she frequently reminded him—had possession of the town house until he married.

  He should have stayed in the country, but Parliament had been called into session last month, and Gerald did not like to be absent in the event something momentous occurred. Yet at this time of year, the Lords mostly dealt with accounts and divorces. Although, if something crucial did happen, he had a list of peers to whom he’d promised to send urgent messages. Those lucky fellows had stayed at home with their families. Perhaps when he wed, he’d remain in the country as well.

  Mayhap this was the year he’d find himself enthralled enough by a lady to propose marriage. The problem was, no matter how beautiful, or talented, or desirable a lady was, he never seemed to discover he was intrigued by her until she was betrothed to another.

  Was fate playing tricks on him, or was it just poor luck that he had not noticed Ladies Charlotte and Louisa, now the Marchioness of Kenilworth and the Duchess of Rothwell, respectively, until it was too late? Not that he would let anyone know about his lack of perspicac
ity. Not only was he friends with both of their husbands, he’d seen them spar at Jackson’s and had no desire to be on the receiving end of any punishment they might decide was right and honorable. It had also happened with Miss Turley, now the Countess of Harrington. How could Gerald be so blind to a lady’s attributes?

  Perhaps he simply hadn’t met the right woman. That must be it. When the lady he was meant to wed came along, he’d know it immediately. Just as his friends had. He wished his mother could understand that.

  He turned onto Carlos Place and skirted Berkeley Square as he headed to Jermyn Street, where his rooms were located. Once he wed, he’d move into his house and send his mother to her dower property, or wherever she decided to go. He could even buy her a house in Mayfair. The only time they didn’t rub on well together was during spring and autumn, when the ton was in Town and the young ladies were having their Seasons.

  When he reached the corner of Piccadilly and Saint James Street, he decided to go to his club instead of his rooms. Someone must have come to the metropolis in preparation of the Season. He mounted the steps to Brooks in anticipation.

  After being greeted by a footman and ordering a glass of claret, Gerald strolled into the morning room to find the Marquis of Quorndon with his nose in a newssheet. Gerald had known Quorndon since Eton, and, although they were not close, they were on good terms.

  “Quorndon, what brings you to Town?” Gerald took a seat on a leather chair next to the other man. Light green walls made the room look larger than it was. Various seating areas, all with comfortable dark leather chairs, were grouped around the room.

  Lowering his paper, Quorndon replied, “Several things. The Lords.” He gave Gerald a slight smile. “I depend on you to tell me what has been going on, if anything. Mainly, I came at my mother’s behest. She has found me a lady she believes I would like to marry.”

  That was not surprising. Mothers always seemed to be finding ladies they would like their sons to wed. “Is she anyone I know?”