Free The Earl Next Door by Amanda Grange

Marianne to Mrs Cosgrove as she waited in the hall for Tom to bring the carriage round.
‘My dear, we were just glad you could come.’
‘Yes, thank you Elizabeth ,’ said Miss Stock, adding her thanks to Marianne’s.
And then Tom arrrived, and Marianne and Miss Stock went out of the house.

Chapter Four
 
‘I hope you mayn’t have taken cold at the Cosgroves’ last night,’ said her father querulously as Marianne played chess with him the following morning. He picked up his bishop and moved it with shaking fingers across the board. ‘Going out in the winter is a perilous thing to do.’
‘No, Papa,’ Marianne reassured him, as she deliberately overlooked the fact that he had exposed his knight. She picked up one of her own pawns and moved it harmlessly up the board. ‘I’m sure I have not.’
‘Young people are so thoughtless,’ he complained, studying her move. ‘They open windows and let in the night air. And if you take cold I don’t know what is to become of us, for I am only a useless old man, you know.’
‘You are not an old man, Papa. And you are far from useless. If you would only bestir yourself, you could do everything I do.’ She put out her hand, resting it on his as she tried to recall him to the world. ‘And you would do it so much better than me. You have years of experience, Papa, whereas I am all at sea. I am trying to run the estate, but . . . ’
She tailed away, for she could see that it was no good. Instead of bestirring himself, her father shrank back in his chair. ‘I?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Oh, no, my dear, I am too old for all of that now. Far too old. If only Christopher hadn’t disgraced himself,’ he said, his voice starting to tremble as he embarked on a familiar theme. ‘It –’
Marianne sighed. Her efforts to rouse her papa out of his lethargy had been wasted, as they had been wasted so many times before. ‘Yes, Papa,’ she said soothingly, knowing that soothing him was now her only recourse. If she did not, he would only become more deeply embedded in his woes. Then, speaking brightly, she tried to turn the direction of his thoughts by saying, ‘I believe it is your move.’
Bit by bit she managed to get him to focus his attention on the game once more, and when it was finished she left the stuffy room with a feeling akin to relief. It was a trial to her to see her father behaving as though he was in his dotage when he was in fact still a comparatively young man. And although she knew he had a lot of troubles to bear, she wished he could have made more of an effort, for her sake if not his own. After all, she had the same troubles to bear, and she had not become a recluse.
After spending an hour in the stuffy atmosphere she felt in need of some fresh air, and looking out of the window she decided to take a walk. The day was cold, but the clouds were breaking up and a gleam of sun shone through. She waited only long enough to fetch her cloak and muff before setting out for the seashore.
Seaton Hall was bordered by the sea at its southern edge. Marianne often walked there when the weather was fine, finding the fresh sea breezes beneficial in blowing away the gloomy air that surrounded her papa; a gloomy air that seemed to work its way into her skin whenever she was with him. A brisk walk took her to the beach and she stood there undecided as to what to do next, whether to go on, or whether to turn back. There were a number of things which needed her attention back at the Hall, and she had just decided that she should return when she caught sight of a figure standing on the rocks in the distance, gazing out to sea.
The many-caped greatcoat and three-cornered hat the gentleman was wearing could have been worn by anyone, but the height and breadth of the figure, together with the powerful stance, told her who it was at once: Lord Ravensford.
But what was he doing on the rocks, looking out to sea?
Whatever it was, it would have to come to a halt. The tide was coming