The Lady and the Earl

The Lady and the Earl THE RETURN TO THE LADIES OF SOMMER-BY-THE-SEA BOOK TWO RUTH A. CASIE Contents Also by Ruth A. Casie Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Thank you The Lady and the Rogue About Ruth A. Casie Also by Ruth A. Casie THE LADIES OF SOMMER-BY-THE-SEA - Regency Romance The Lady and Her Quill The Lady and the Spy The Lady and her Duke RETURN TO THE LADIES OF SOMMER-BY-THE-SEA The Lady and the Barrister The Lady and the Earl * * * THE STELTON LEGACY - Fantasy Romance The Guardian’s Witch The Highlander’s English Woman The Maxwell Ghost PIRATES OF BRITANNIA - Crossover Series - Pirate Romance Donald (Sons of Sagamore) Hugh (Sons of Sagamore) Graham (Sons of Sagamore) The Pirate’s Jewel The Pirate’s Redemption * * * THE DRUID KNIGHT SERIES - Time Travel Romance Knight of Runes Knight of Rapture The Red Slippers — A Short Story The Druid Knight Tale I — A Short Story—Expanded The Druid Knight Tale II — A Short Story * * * Contemporary Novellas HAVENPORT Happily Ever After The Witching Hour Never Say Never Echoes of Betrayal How to Marry a Stuart Brother Heart of the Matter Chapter One Sommer-by-the-Sea September 1816 Lady Harriet Manning didn’t note the sun-filled day, its warmth, or its beauty. Nor did she observe the clear blue sky with an occasional stray cloud sailing out of sight. If she took the time and stepped out into the garden of Cranford House, her family home, she would have found the fragrance of the fallen leaves, autumn flowers and the slightly salty air invigorating. Unfortunately for Harriet, none of that happened. She was otherwise occupied. She didn’t experience any of the wonders of the day. Instead, she sat in the north end of the family library, studying scratches in a document’s margins, then scribbled in earnest on a piece of paper. She knew the information the tome contained quite well. It was the notations, the thoughts of her father, as well as those of the military physician, Dr. James Barry, that held her attention. The library was a warm room from the red damask curtains to the mahogany bookshelves filled with over 4,000 books, several dating to the 14th century. The French windows along the length of the room offered a doorway and view of the garden. The fireplace stood in the middle of the bookshelves and was opposite the windows. In front of the hearth was a rather large settee, several chairs, and tables to create a variety of areas for discourse. All this was enjoyable, but it was the north end of the room where she felt most comfortable. Here, surrounded by her father’s medical books and papers, was where she spent her time. Poised to inscribe yet another note, she halted. Her quill hovered inches above the paper as her fine mind sorted out and applied what she read. Pieces of the puzzle shifted, until one by one, they fell into place, sending her into a writing frenzy. In a rush, her heart shot to her stomach, then back into her throat. She pushed her chair back from the desk and hurried to the glass-enclosed bookcase in the far corner of the room, where her father kept his most precious books. Her fingertips ran over the spines as she disregarded one book after another. She stopped and reread one spine. Slowly, she let out a deep breath, removed the 14th century Italian medical book from the shelf, and brought it back to the desk. Harriet opened the treasure and hungrily searched the pages. Several items caught her attention, but she refused to give in to the urge. Instead, she banished the thought from her mind and paged through the book. The information she wanted was here, somewhere. She was quickly coming to the end of the tome and still had no success. She glanced at the bookcase behind her. Had she been wrong? Frustrated and ready to put the volume away, she turned the page. There waiting for her was the information she sought. Slow down. Take a deep breath. Her racing heart returned to normal as she confirmed the recipe. The juice was an old remedy that was no longer in fashion, but the medicinal benefit was logical. Apples. As she read on, one idea after another surfaced. Harriet fiercely wrote them down before they flew out of her head as quickly as they appeared. This was not a cure by any means, but it would ease— “Why do you spend so much time reading those papers is beyond me.” Lady Manning swept in. As grand as the library was, her mother managed to drain all the air from the room the moment she entered. Jane, Harriet’s lady’s maid, trailed behind with material draped over her arms. A country girl, Jane took her job seriously. She was loyal, compassionate, and helped to keep Lady Harriet organized. Although if one were to ask her, Jane would say that her ladyship had that well in hand. Tall and thin with a pale complexion, she kept her dark hair in a simple bun at the nape of her neck. Harriet couldn’t quite make out what it was. Or to be more precise, she didn’t care to make it out. The thought of how to adjust the medicine was lost, and she returned to reading the document. With any luck, the forgotten idea would resurface. An incessant, low, steady sound droned on, interrupting her concentration. She would have tossed the paper on the desk if she could. Her mother was humming as she attended to Jane’s bundle, now placed with care on the chair on the other side of the desk.