Amber (Jewel Trilogy, Book 3) (44 page)

I hope you enjoyed
Amber
—thank you for reading!

Till next time,

The Jewel Trilogy
Amethyst
Emerald
Amber
Forevermore
(a Jewel Trilogy novella)

The Flower Trilogy
Violet
Lily
Rose

The Temptations Trilogy
Lost in Temptation
Tempting Juliana
The Art of Temptation

a 54" strand of cultured freshwater pearls,
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www.LaurenRoyal.com
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Violet's story,
first in the
Flower Trilogy
is also
Ford Chase's story,
concluding the
Jewel Trilogy
!

Excerpt from
VIOLET

Book One of the
Flower Trilogy
by Lauren Royal

England
July 15, 1673

St. Swithin's Day. Well, it was fitting.

Viscount Lakefield stared out his carriage window at the miserable, wet landscape. According to St. Swithin's legend, if it rained on the fifteenth of July, it would continue for forty days and nights. Normally not a man given to superstition, today Ford Chase found such nonsense plausible.

This was shaping up to be the worst day of his life.

The carriage rattled over the drawbridge and into the modest courtyard of Greystone, his older brother's small castle. Cold raindrops pelted Ford's head when he shoved open the door and leapt to the circular drive. Drenched gravel crunching beneath his boots, he made his way down a short, covered passageway and banged the knocker on the unassuming oak door.

Benchley cracked open the door, then slipped outside and shut it behind him. "My lord, what brings you here today?"

"I wish to speak with my brother." Ford frowned down at the small, wiry valet. What was he doing answering the door? "Will you be letting me in?"

"I think not." Benchley lifted his beak of a nose. "I'll fetch Lord Greystone." And with that, he disappeared back into the ancient castle.

Shivering, Ford stood frozen in disbelief before deciding this treatment fit in with the rest of his day. Rain dripped from his long brown hair to sprinkle on the stones at his feet. Wondering why he should need permission to enter his brother's home, he moved to reach for the latch.

The door opened, and his brother stepped out. He looked haggard, his face a pasty gray, his green eyes and black hair dull.

"Colin? What the devil's going on?"

"Illness. Measles, we think. Thank God you're here."

Ford pulled his surcoat tighter around himself. "Come again?"

"Amy is ill, along with little Hugh and the baby. And half of the servants. One of them died yesterday," Colin added grimly.

"Died?" Ford's gut twisted as he thought of Amy—Colin's beautiful, raven-haired wife—and their bright four-year-old son, Hugh, and the baby, Aidan…all dead.

"It's not so bad as all that," Colin rushed to assure him, evidently reading the concern on his face. "The poor maid was eighty if she were a day, and the disease went straight to her lungs. I'm not expecting my family to perish."

"At least you won't be getting it. If you'll remember, all four of us had it while in exile on the Continent."

"I could hardly forget." Appearing as though he could barely hold himself up, Colin leaned against the doorpost. "But what does that have to do with now?"

"At a Royal Society lecture, I learned one cannot fall ill with the same disease twice," Ford explained.

"I've had measles more than once."

"Not true measles, the one with the high fever. Spotted skin is a symptom of many different conditions."

"Trust you to know something like that." Although Colin looked relieved, his smile was bleak. "Still, the fever is savage, and Jewel has yet to suffer measles. True measles, as you put it. Will you take her from here before she succumbs as well? It would relieve my mind, and Amy's too, I'm sure. The worry is doing her recovery no good."

Alarm bells went off in Ford's head. Take his niece? Where? What would he do with a young girl? "Well, I only stopped by to let you know I've left London and will be at Lakefield for the foreseeable future—"

"Perfect."

"—working on my new watch design. I…I just wanted to be alone for a while. Lady Tabitha has eloped."

"With the rest of the family off in Scotland, I was at my wit's end deciding what to do. I was about to settle Jewel in the village. But this will be much better—"

"Tabitha
eloped
," Ford repeated, wondering why his brother hadn't reacted to this astonishing news. After all, Tabitha had just upset his entire life plan.

"She eloped?" Colin blinked, then shook his head. "Come now, Ford. What did you expect? After six years of suffering your attentions whenever you deigned to show up in London, and sharing your bed, I assume—"

She had. So what of it? No one in King Charles II's circle was virtuous. Colin hadn't been a monk before meeting his wife, and neither had their oldest brother Jason. The three Chase brothers were all titled and intimates of the king, which naturally meant they were popular with the ladies at court—and none of them had hesitated to take advantage in their day.

"—a lady," Colin continued, "would expect a proposal."

"I
told
her we'd marry someday. In two or three years." Tabitha had seemed the ideal woman for Ford—stunningly beautiful, always ready to attend a ball or an evening at court. They matched well in bed, and when they weren't together she busied herself with whatever women liked to do, leaving him plenty of time for his work. "For God's sake, she's only twenty-one, and I'm just twenty-eight. Jason married at thirty-two, and no one was on his back."

"I married at twenty-eight."

"
You
were in a hurry to have children."

"While I'm sure
you
would as soon do without them altogether." Colin rubbed his eyes. "You really have no idea why Tabitha gave up on you, do you? I hate to tell you this, little brother, but it's time you grew up and realized there's more to life than science and seduction. As the baby of the family, maybe Jason and I coddled you too much."

From beyond the passageway, the patter of rain filled their sudden silence. Colin was obviously weary, so Ford thought it best not to argue. Doubtless Colin had spent sleepless nights watching over his wife and sons—exactly why Ford wasn't ready for a family of his own.

"You look tired," he said. "You'd best get some rest."

His brother heaved a sigh. "I'd rest easier if I knew you had Jewel. You'll take her, won't you?"

What the devil would he do with a girl who wasn't yet six? He loved her, of course. She shared his blood. But that didn't mean he had a clue how to care for her. Bouncing her on his knee or playing a simple card game with her was one thing. A few minutes of fun before returning her to her parents. But to be responsible for a child…

He shoved a hand through his wet hair. "For how long?"

"A week or two. Maybe three. Until the illness has run its course." Colin twisted the signet ring on his finger, narrowing his gaze. "Why are you hesitating? I need you."

"I'm not hesitating," Ford protested. "I just…"

His brother's eyes opened wide. "Did you think I'd expect you to care for her on your own? God forbid." His lips quirked as though he might laugh, but he coughed instead. On purpose, Ford was sure. "I'll send Lydia along with her."

Despite his annoyance at being read so easily—not to mention distrusted—the tension left Ford's shoulders. With Lydia, Jewel's very competent nurse, on the premises, he wouldn't have to care for the girl, wouldn't have to struggle to interpret her mystifying female language and needs. He could just poke his head into her room and say hello every once in a while.

"You won't have to do a thing," Colin added, his tight expression easing into a wry half-smile. "You might try talking with your niece, though. It's time you learned to communicate with the lesser species. You know, those of us of insufficient age or intelligence to grasp the deepest secrets of the universe."

"I don't—"

"Maybe
that
was your problem with Tabitha."

Ford gritted his teeth. He'd never fooled himself into thinking he understood the opposite sex. His science was what drove him. But he'd had no problems with Tabitha, and he was finished with this discussion.

"Of course I'll take Jewel," he said, consciously relaxing his jaw. "Bring her out—I'll be waiting in my carriage."

"Listen to this." Sitting with her two sisters while their mother worked nearby, Violet Ashcroft cleared her throat. "'To say that a blind custom of obedience should be a surer obligation than duty taught and understood…is to affirm that a blind man may tread surer by a guide than a seeing man by a light.'"

"What is that supposed to mean?" her youngest sister, Lily, asked. Busily stitching her tapestry in the grayish light from the large picture window, Lily probably had little real desire to know what the quote meant. But she was unfailingly kind, and Violet would never turn away from anyone willing to listen.

She hitched herself forward on the green brocade chair. "Well, now—"

"Why do you care?" their middle sister, Rose, interrupted. Rose cared little for anything that didn't have to do with dancing, clothes, or men. Looking up from the vase of flowers she was arranging, she tossed her gleaming ringlets. "It's nothing but a bunch of gibberish, if you ask me."

"Nobody asked." Violet pointedly looked to Lily. "Did you hear anyone ask?"

"Girls." Clucking her tongue, their mother poured a dipperful of water into the kettle over the fire. "I used to comfort myself that when you all grew up, this bickering would cease. Yet it never has."