The Baron’s Return
She broke his heart once before. He won’t give her the chance to do it again.
Baron Cranston doesn’t believe in happily-ever-afters. Experience has taught him that love is a risk not worth taking.
Forced to marry another man when she was younger, Abigail didn’t know she was carrying Cranston’s child until after he’d entered military service. Now widowed and out of mourning, she is no longer trapped in a union she never wanted.
When Abigail tells Cranston about his daughter, she doesn’t expect his proposal. But their marriage of convenience could give her the second chance she never dreamed possible. Now she only needs to convince the cynical baron that his heart isn’t as closed off as he believes.
The Baron’s Return is book 7 in the Landing a Lord series.
Get it now from:
Amazon US (UK, AU, Canada) ~ Apple Books ~ B&N ~ Google ~ Kobo
Excerpt
London, July 1817
It was the perfect day for a wedding. The temperature was warm but not unbearable, and the clouds had parted for the happy couple. Baron Cranston was surrounded by smiling, happy faces, but the only thing on his mind was how he’d rather be anywhere else.
He’d learned many years ago that love was a fantasy people told themselves existed so they could get through the daily monotony of life. Some of the people who went searching for their happily-ever-afters were lucky enough to find companions who held similar foolish notions. They were the fortunate ones.
Then there was the rest of the world. People who were content merely to find a partner who wasn’t intolerable, whom they could show off as a status symbol, or whom could provide them with a comfortable life. But for people like him, who’d thought they found love and who’d had their dreams of matrimonial bliss crushed, they recognized love was an illusion.
Cranston would never again give a woman the power to break his heart. Even if he wanted to try, a part of him would always be wary. Always be waiting for the inevitable betrayal that would come.
Still, he couldn’t deny the pang of envy that went through him as he watched Viscount Ashford repeat his vows. Not that Cranston would ever admit it.
Brushing off the unwelcome emotion as a lingering remnant of crushed dreams, he managed a hearty congratulations to his friend and his new bride as they gathered outside the wedding chapel that warm morning.
The Marquess of Lowenbrock clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re welcome to ride back to the house with us for the wedding breakfast.”
The three of them—Cranston, Ashford, and Lowenbrock—had formed a tight bond during their years of military service. Their friendship was as strong as ever now that they had given up their commission and returned to England last year. But as the only one still unmarried, Cranston was very aware of being the odd man out.
Cranston shook his head. “I brought my carriage and will see you there shortly.”
Lowenbrock merely nodded and headed toward his own carriage. The one that held his wife of less than one year and whom Cranston had recently learned was carrying their first child.
He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension that was starting to build at the base of his neck. Normally he did a better job of hiding his feelings, but there was no denying that weddings would always bring up bad memories for him.
Lowenbrock and Ashford knew he didn’t believe in love and happily-ever-afters. Not for himself. But he had no doubt that his friends would defy the odds and remain blissfully wed.
He was about to head to his own carriage when he noticed the intense discussion taking place between the new bride and groom. He’d expected the pair to be gazing at one another with adoration, but instead, they stood off to one side, deep in conversation.
Ashford shook his head, and Cranston watched as Mary placed a hand on his arm. Then Ashford turned to meet his gaze and Cranston knew. They were talking about him.
He started for his carriage, trying to push back the unease that had only increased with that significant look. He stopped when Ashford called out to him.
Somehow he managed a casual tone. “Shouldn’t you be whisking your wife away? Taking advantage of a few stolen moments in the carriage before you must greet your guests at the wedding breakfast?”
When Ashford’s expression remained grim, Cranston could feel the hairs stand up along his arms. He’d always had the same feeling just before a battle when they were still in the military. He squared his shoulders and braced himself for what was coming.
“Before we return to the house, I need to warn you. Mary invited Lady Holbrook.”
Cranston felt those words like a blow to the stomach. Not only would he be forced to watch his two closest friends enjoy themselves with their wives, but now he would have his greatest mistake thrown into his face at the same time.
Abigail was going to be there.
He’d caught sight of her the month before at Hyde Park. After that day, he’d avoided the park during the fashionable hour. But it seemed he hadn’t been successful in avoiding this inevitable meeting.
Cranston nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”
Ashford shook his head. “One of the things I love most about my wife is her practical nature, but I’ve discovered that she has a strong romantic streak. She told me that she likes the woman, but I fear she might be matchmaking. Hoping that you’ll find someone and join us in wedded bliss.”
Cranston couldn’t hold back his bark of laughter. The way his friend’s mouth twisted as he said the words made it clear that he knew it was a ridiculous statement. When Cranston did finally choose a bride, it wouldn’t be for love. And it definitely wouldn’t be Abigail Holbrook.
Ashford winced. “I know. I told her to leave the matter alone, but she went ahead and issued the invitation without telling me.”
“You told her.” That realization shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal.
“She saw the way you looked at the woman that day in Hyde Park. When she told me that she hoped to befriend Lady Holbrook, I had to explain why that wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Cranston wasn’t angry with his friend. He’d been in love once, and he had no doubt the man he’d been back then would have done the same thing. He liked Ashford’s new wife. She wasn’t flighty and seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. And she did care about others, almost too much it seemed. Still, it bothered him that Ashford and his new wife had discussed him. And despite that, the new viscountess was still trying to push him toward the woman who’d broken his heart.
“If anyone asks, I can tell them you had somewhere else to be. We’ll be in London for the rest of the day and can see you later.”
Cranston shook his head. He’d run from the woman once already. Her betrayal had been the reason he’d chosen to buy a commission nine years ago. He was done running. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if Abigail knew he was good friends with Ashford and, by extension, the man’s wife. The cynical side of him refused to believe that their upcoming meeting was coincidental.
“Nothing and no one will keep me away.”
Ashford nodded and turned to rejoin his wife.
Wife. If things had gone as planned all those years ago, Cranston would have been the first of his friends to wed. Although if that had happened, he wouldn’t have met Ashford or Lowenbrock. They would likely only be acquaintances now.
His emotions were in turmoil as he strode to his carriage. But by the time he arrived at Ashford’s town house, he’d have them in check again.
One corner of his mouth rose as he contemplated the meeting ahead. Perhaps it was time for him to go on the attack. If his time in military service had taught him anything, it was that one was already doomed if they feared losing before stepping onto the battlefield. No, if Abigail was going to be joining him in this battle, it was he who would come out the victor.
©2023 Suzanna Medeiros