Merely the Groom by Rebecca Hagan Lee
Merely the Groom
by
Rebecca Hagan Lee
Published by Amber House Books
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2015 by Rebecca Hagan Lee. All Rights Reserved.
Cover design by Control Freak Productions
Cover Photo Copyright Period Images
Cover Background Copyright Dm_Cherry (Used via license of Shutterstock.com)
Published by Amber House Books, LLC
http://www.amberhousebooks.com
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Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
Merely the Groom Blurb
Praise for Rebecca Hagan Lee
Books by Rebecca Hagan Lee
Dedication
Official Charter of the Free Fellows League
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
About the Author
Books by Rebecca Hagan Lee
Hardly a Husband Sneak Peek
Merely the Groom by Rebecca Hagan Lee
Book 2 of the “Free Fellows League”
Can an English miss tame the wild heart of a Scotsman?
Colin McElreath, Viscount Grantham, has sold his soul to the devil—a devil of an irate English father. The powerful Baron Davies urgently requires a respectable husband for Gillian, his disgraced daughter, and he sees Colin as the perfect candidate. When Colin balks, Davies isn’t above using his daughter’s large dowry as an incentive—or applying a bit of blackmail.
Colin doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry at the irony. After a lifetime of avoiding society misses as one of the founding members of the Free Fellows League, he is about to marry one.
Miss Gillian Davies is about to become a blushing bride.
And Colin McElreath is merely the groom…
The “Free Fellows League” Series includes BARELY A BRIDE, MERELY THE GROOM, HARDLY A HUSBAND, TRULY A WIFE, A BACHELOR STILL and CLEARLY A COUPLE (a novella from TALK OF THE TON)
Praise for Merely the Groom and Rebecca Hagan Lee
“Merely the Groom is a perfect 10!”—Romance Reviews Today
“Another wonderful story in the Free Fellows League Series!”—The Romance Reader’s Connection
“Tender, enthralling romance straight from the heart!”—Eloisa James, New York Times bestselling author
“Historical romance fans are fortunate to have a treasure like Rebecca Hagan Lee.”—Affaire de Coeur
“Every Rebecca Hagan Lee book is a tender treasure! She warms my heart and touches my soul.”—Teresa Medeiros, New York Times bestselling author
“Sparkling romance and passion that sizzles…Rebecca Hagan Lee taps into every woman’s fantasy!”—Christina Dodd, New York Times bestseller
Books by Rebecca Hagan Lee
Free Fellows League Series
Barely a Bride
Merely the Groom
Hardly a Husband
Truly a Wife
Mistresses of the Marquess Series
Once a Mistress
Always a Lady
Ever a Princess
A Hint of Heather
Borrowed Brides Series
Golden Chances
Harvest Moon
Something Borrowed
The Counterfeit Bride
Twice Blessed: A Borrowed Brides Novella
Dedication
It’s always nice to know that somewhere far away, there are people who think of you and wish you well. It’s especially nice when the people who want the best for you are family as well as friends. I know that in faraway Georgetown, Texas, two very special friends and family members want the best for me. This book is dedicated to my Texas connections: my cousin, Cheryl Lee Wilkinson, and her father, my uncle, Lamar Lee. With love and gratitude for reading every book and letting me know when I’ve done a good job, and for always being my cheerleaders extraordinaire.
Official Charter of the Free Fellows League
On this, the seventh day of January in the year of Our Lord 1793, we, the sons and heirs to the oldest and most esteemed titles and finest families of England and Scotland, do found and charter our own Free Fellows league.
The Free Fellows league is dedicated to the proposition that sons and heirs to great titles and fortunes, who are duty hound to marry in order to beget future sons and heirs, should he allowed to avoid the inevitable leg-shackling to a female for as long as possible in order to fight the French and become England’s greatest heroes.
As charter members of the Free Fellows league, we agree that:
1. We shall only agree to marry when we’ve no other choice or when we’re old. (No sooner than our thirtieth year.)
2. We shall agree to pay each of our fellow Free Fellows the sum of five hundred pounds sterling should any of us marry before we reach our thirtieth year.
3. We shall never darken the doors of any establishments that cater to “Marriage Mart” mamas or their desperate daughters unless forced to do so. Thor shall we frequent the homes of any relatives, friends, or acquaintances that seek to match us up with prospective brides.
4. When compelled to marry, we agree that we shall only marry suitable ladies from suitable families with fortunes equal to or greater than our own.
5. We shall never be encumbered by sentiment known as love or succumb to female wiles or tears.
6. We shall sacrifice ourselves on the altar of duty in order to beget our heirs, but we shall take no pleasure in the task. We shall look upon the act in the same manner as medicine that must be swallowed.
7. We shall install our wives in country houses and keep separate establishments nearby or in London…
8. We shall drink and ride and hunt, and consort with our boon companions whenever we are pleased to do so.
9. We shall not allow the females who share our names to dictate to us in any manner. We shall put our feet upon tables and sofas and the seats of chairs if we so choose and allow our hounds to sit upon the furnishings and roam our houses at will.
10. We shall give our first loyalty and our undying friendship to England and our brothers and fellow members of the Free Fellows league.
Signed (in blood) and sealed by:
The Right Honorable Griffin Abernathy, 17th Viscount Abernathy, aged nine years and two months, eldest son of and heir apparent to the 16th earl of Weymou
The Right Honorable Colin McElreath, 27th Viscount Grantham, aged nine years and five months, eldest son of and heir apparent to the 9th Earl of McElreath.
The Right Honorable Jarrod Shepherdston, 22nd Earl of Wetmore, aged ten years and three months, eldest son of and heir apparent to the 4th Marquess of Shepherdston.
League member added on this seventh day of January in the year of Our Lord 1812
Daniel, 9th Duke of Sussex, aged six and twenty years and eight months.
Prologue
“If we are marked to die, we are enough
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honor!”
—William Shakespeare, 1564-1616
King Henry V
Derbyshire, England, 1793
The Knightsguild School for Gentlemen
“Don’t look down,” Jarrod Shepherdston, the twenty-second Earl of Westmore, ordered as he and Griffin Abernathy, seventeenth Viscount Abernathy, gave Colin McElreath, twenty-seventh Viscount Grantham, a leg up onto the outer wall of the bell tower that stood watch over the quadrangle in the center of the Knightsguild property. “There’s nothing to fear. Just keep your mind on what you’re doing and you’ll be fine.”
“And whatever you do, Colin, don’t look down.” Griffin gave Colin one last boost up the wall, then stepped away and stood shoulder to shoulder with Jarrod to watch as their fellow Free Fellow began the Herculean task of overcoming his fear of heights by climbing the Knightsguild bell tower.
Don’t look down. There’s nothing to fear. Just keep your mind on what you’re doing and you’ll be fine.
Colin pressed his face against the moss growing between the crevices in the mortar in the old stone wall, and reached up, feeling for a handhold as he inched his way up the tower. He clenched his teeth, jammed the toe of his boot into a crevice, and slowly crept skyward.
Don’t look down.
Easy for them to say. Jarrod and Griffin had their feet firmly planted on English soil. They weren’t climbing the outside of a bell tower in the middle of the night in order to conquer their aversion to heights. But then his cohorts, the two other Free Fellows, didn’t fear a bit of altitude. They were destined to become England and Scotland’s greatest heroes, and heroes were above such foibles.
And he would be, too. After tonight. Colin took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and fought the fear. It was well after midnight, but it wasn’t completely dark. The pale sliver of moonlight was enough to illuminate his way. Colin didn’t know whether that made the journey easier or harder. It was a long way to the quadrangle below.
Don’t look down.
Grunting with the effort, Colin felt for the next handhold. He gripped the stone with his hands and planted his right foot into a foothold, pulling with his arms while pushing with his feet, propelling himself forward toward his goal. Left hand, right foot. Right hand, left foot. Pulling and pushing. Pushing and pulling in rhythm as he moved higher and higher. Until the bit of mortar providing a foothold in the stone beneath his right foot tumbled to the quadrangle.
Colin tightened his grip, clinging to the wall, fighting the terror threatening to overtake him. Perspiration beaded his upper lip and his heart pounded against his chest as he scrambled to regain his foothold and keep from falling.
“Thunderation!” Griffin swore, ducking as bits of stone and mortar rained down on the courtyard. “He missed a foothold. He’s slipping.”
Jarrod looked up, shielding his eyes with his hand as he squinted into the night sky, mentally gauging Colin’s progress. “He’s hit that tricky bit. But he’s made it halfway and I’ll wager he hasn’t wasted a single thought on anything except reaching the top of the tower,” he replied with the greater wisdom of his advanced age of ten years and six months. “He’ll be all right.”
“If the fall doesn’t kill him,” Griffin replied.
“I don’t think he’s far enough off the ground for the fall to kill him,” Jarrod said. “The most he’ll do is break an arm or a leg. And injure his stubborn Scots pride.”
“Then he’ll make it,” Griff predicted. “He knows we’re watching, and he’s far too proud to allow us to see him fail.”
Jarrod nodded. “Especially since his disappointment over Esme Kelverton is the reason for all of this.”
Jarrod was right. The climbing of the Knightsguild bell tower had become a graduation rite of passage in recent years—like scaling the bridges while punting down the river Cam was one of the old and venerable ways of celebrating graduation from Cambridge, but graduation from Knightsguild was two years away and Colin wasn’t climbing it in celebration. He was climbing it to test his mettle. To prove that Lord Kelverton had made a huge mistake in doubting his worthiness as a future bridegroom for his daughter.
“Colin wasn’t to blame. He couldn’t help the fact that Esme Kelverton’s father broke Colin and Esme’s marriage contract because Lord McElreath can’t gamble worth spit.” Griffin shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s true,” Jarrod said. “But you thought of it because of him.” He nodded toward Colin. “Because he went and got his hopes dashed and his heart trampled by a girl.”
“The League was my idea, but we all want to be heroes. We all embraced the idea and we all agreed to it.” Griffin stared at Jarrod. “Besides, I thought it would take his mind off his problems. And a broken heart is as good a reason to form a secret League as any.”
“That’s true.” Jarrod nodded his head. “And suggesting we perform feats of bravery and daring seemed a perfectly acceptable way to prove our worthiness to be Free Fellows.” He turned to Griffin. “But I didn’t expect Colin would choose to scale the bell tower so soon.”
“Why not?” Griffin retorted. “Tall places are the things he fears most.”
Everyone knew true heroes were born to accomplish acts of extraordinary courage and bravery and climbing the bell tower was the perfect way to start. It was a feat only the most athletic and determined boys could accomplish. Jarrod and Griffin had done it twice. On two consecutive nights. In complete secrecy. Their goal hadn’t been to prove their athletic prowess or test their mettle, but to help Colin overcome his fear and forget his heartbreak over his broken betrothal.
After picking the lock on the outer door of the structure, and reaching the bell tower by way of the interior stairs, Jarrod and Griffin had used ropes to lower themselves down the outer wall in order to painstakingly craft the dozen or so additional hand and foot holds needed to make the climb easier for Colin. Jarrod and Griffin had gladly forfeited two nights of sleep, and risked discovery and a public caning in order to come to the aid of their compatriot.
Now, all they could do was stand below and keep watch as Colin struggled to prove himself the hero they knew him to be.
High above them, Colin squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, ignored the bile rising in his throat, and reached for a foothold. Keeping his gaze focused on his goal, Colin toed the moss-covered stone until he found a crack in the wall. He wedged the toe of his boot into the crevice and pushed toward the top.
Three more feet or so and he’d make it. Colin inhaled deeply, then slowly expelled the breath and took another. Don’t think about it. Don’t look down. Breathe. Push. Pull. Climb until there was nothing else to climb.
Colin swallowed his bile once again and stared into the opening of the bell tower. A rush of satisfaction raced through him. He’d done it! He’d climbed the tower! And survived!
He had conquered his fear and proved himself worthy of the honor of being a founding member of the secret league he and Griffin and Jarrod had founded. Colin had always known he had what it took to be a true hero despite the fact that he’d had a foolish fear of tall places and a father with a penchant for gambling away his inheritance.
He didn’t have the money Jarrod and Griffin had or the pure English bloodlines, but he had an ancient and honorable title and the blood of Scottish kings flowing through his veins
Esme. Colin sighed. Esme Kelverton was the impetus behind the Free Fellows League. If Lord Kelverton hadn’t broken the betrothal agreement between Colin and Esme, there wouldn’t be a Free Fellows Charter or League. And Colin wouldn’t have felt compelled to prove his worth to his schoolmates by climbing the bell tower and conquering his fear.
The business they were about was serious, and their dreams of becoming England’s greatest heroes were not to be taken lightly. Heroism required dedication—dedication to honor and to one’s country—and dedication required sacrifice. The heroes they read about and dreamed of becoming were dashing figures willing to forgo the comforts of family and home, of wives and of children, in order to fulfill their destinies. True heroes remained free of encumbrances in order to make the ultimate sacrifice. Griffin, Colin, and Jarrod prepared to do likewise.
There would be no more long, tearful nights filled with empty longing for the familiar comforts of home and hearth. No more waiting in vain for letters from loved ones. No more tender hearts thoughtlessly trampled by ignorant females who looked down their noses at lesser titles and dwindling fortunes. Females whose fathers blamed a son for his father’s shortcomings and who thought more of the title than of the boy.