Temptations of a Scarred Baron (Preview)

Chapter One

“Mama! You must listen to this line; it had me in stitches last night when I read it.” Henrietta Fitzroy cleared her throat, straightening her spine as she sat on the settee in their family parlour. 

Sun streamed in through the open window, bathing the room in warm afternoon light. Fresh pink roses had been placed on the table in front of the window, allowing a sweet scent to waft into the room decorated in the French style.

Emeline Fitzroy placed her cup back on the tray and smiled at her daughter, paying apt attention with a knowing smile. Her dark blonde hair was elegantly piled atop her head, unlike her daughter, who preferred her golden lengths plated down her back. 

Henrietta stifled another giggle before beginning to read to her mother from the play. 

‘“For I am the very first man to have ever been called the King of Fashion in London.’ Charles paraded up and down, swinging his cane over one arm. ‘Who called you that?’ Asked Maude quite wittily, knowing that her companion had consumed most of the wine. ‘Well, it was I, of course. I single-handedly started the bustle trend by which ladies feel inclined to make their bottoms appear larger than the flat posteriors they were actually born with!’” Henrietta’s sweet voice burst into fits of pleasant giggles. 

“Henrietta! That is quite naughty.” Emmeline admonished her daughter gently, unable to hide her own smile of amusement. The Countess of Avon was a proper lady, much like her daughter, who knew how to carry herself in social situations but always enjoyed a laugh at home. Both mother and daughter held an affinity for comedic plays that were otherwise seen as unfit for ladies. 

Henrietta’s dark brown eyes twinkled mischievously, highlighting the flecks of gold in her irises. She was a tall girl with an elegant frame and a clear complexion, a known beauty of the ton who preferred to save herself for love rather than marry the first man who wandered across her path. Emeline herself encouraged her daughters to seek love rather than fortune. 

“I think it’s brilliant; I never understood why we as women have to alter our appearances just to please men. Why can’t we walk around with the natural graces that God gave us? What do you think, Lucy-Anne?” Henrietta turned to her maid, who had just entered the room and was carrying a tray of crustless cucumber sandwiches cut into triangles. 

The girl’s olive cheeks filled with colour as she glanced from Lady Avon to Henrietta. Her chestnut hair, dark brown eyes, and tanned skin made her look like someone from across the sea rather than a natural-born Londoner. She would have been a beauty to be reckoned with if life had been kinder and allowed her to be born into a more affluent family. 

“Go on, you can be honest; it’s just us here. Do you think women should alter their appearances to please men, or should we embrace our natural graces?” Henrietta encouraged her with a warm smile, patiently waiting for the girl to add her opinion to the conversation. 

Lucy-Anne, who served in the house as a maid but regularly joined in the conversations like one of the family, pursed her lips to hide a cheeky grin. “I think it’s easy to make such a statement when one has been blessed with all the natural graces that God has to offer, My Lady.” 

Emmeline burst into a fit of chortles as a deep blush spread over Henrietta’s cheeks. “Very well said; it’s easy for someone as beautiful as you are to say such things, Henrietta. There are far more homely girls out there who welcome the latest fashions to help them find husbands.” 

Henrietta’s thin lips curved into a warm smile. She often enjoyed the warm banter of her family and closest friend and confidant, who happened to be her maid. She knew very well that men found her attractive; she was just as pretty as her mother except for the countess’s chubbier cheeks that had come with age. 

Lucy-Anne placed the tray on the table beside the tea when the door to the parlour burst open, revealing an overly excited young girl who came skipping into the room. Her brown curls bounced beside her cherubic face, her green eyes flashing mischievously as she brandished a pamphlet above her head. 

“You must see the latest news; what they wrote is absolutely scandalous.” She fell into an open chair, her cheeks filling with colour as she unfolded the latest scandal sheet that had become her obsession. She was at least a head shorter than her eldest sister. 

“Marianna, how many times have I told you not to read those dreadful pamphlets? It’s nothing more than lewd gossip, and a young lady such as yourself should not be opening herself up to such things,” Emmeline scolded her youngest daughter, pulling her nose up at the offending piece of parchment. 

Ignoring her mother, Marianna focused on the sheet and began to read. Unlike her mother and sister, she harboured an unhealthy zeal for gossip and an unfortunate talent for doing all the wrong things in social settings. 

“This week’s subject is the mysterious Baron St John, whose public appearances are less frequent than suitable marriages amongst the ton.” 

Henrietta rolled her eyes in disgust One could always count on the scandal sheets to spread the most salacious details about others’ lives. For all they knew, this Baron St John was a lovely man with good intentions whom gossipmongers saw fit to paint in a bad light. 

Marianna continued, unperturbed by the lack of enthusiasm from her audience. “The frightful appearance of the Baron’s masked face has to make many a young lady faint. It is not known how the St John estate burned to the ground, but rumours of foul play and even arson have been circulating for years. It is not clear whether or not the Baron himself was directly involved after the passing of his brother who would have inherited the title before him.” She let out a dramatic gasp with the final line. 

“Stuff and nonsense, you must learn how to keep your emotions in check, Marianna. This kind of behaviour will not do when it comes time for you to find a husband; now put away that nonsense and have your tea. Henrietta, please take this nonsense away from your sister before we need to send for the smelling salts.” Emmeline shook her head and continued to scold her daughter. 

Doing as her mother asked, Henrietta leaned over and retrieved the scandal sheet from beside her sister. She was about to discard the piece of parchment when a hand-drawn copy of a portrait caught her eye. 

The handsome figure that stared up at her caught her off guard, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Even with half of his face covered with what seemed to be a porcelain mask, she could see that Baron St John was a devilishly handsome man. His eyes were drawn in such a soft manner that he almost appeared kind despite the gossip written about him. His features were strong and sharp, ending with a strong jaw and thick, wavy, brown hair. 

It was hard to think of him as someone involved in such a scandal, even with the mask covering the left side of his face from his temple to his jaw. The design curved around his eye and cradled his cheekbone right up to the edge of his nose. A strange, fluttering sensation knotted the pit of her stomach as she looked into the sketch’s eyes. 

No.

She quickly placed the sheet face down on the settee beside her and looked away. Handsome features could be dangerously misleading, especially for young women. She hadn’t been one to swoon over men, yet something about the drawing caught her attention from the start. Features were usually embellished by whoever the artist was, but if the baron was half as handsome as his portrait, then he was certainly something else. 

“Why are you suddenly so quiet? Is anything the matter, dear?” Emmeline looked at her eldest daughter with a frown. 

“Nothing, Mama, I’m just a bit tired.” Henrietta tried her best to ignore the shiver of attraction that ran down her spine after looking at the baron’s sketch. 

“I think we are all a little tired after your sister’s reading. Just wait until your father gets home, and I tell him what you’ve been up to again.” Their mother narrowed her eyes at Marianna, who made a face and folded her arms across her chest like a petulant child. 

All four women looked up when the doors to the parlour once again burst open, eliciting a deep frown from Marianna when her husband came stumbling into the room. 

The earl’s face was flushed pink, his brown hair tousled, and his clothes were more than just a little dishevelled. 

“Good heavens what has happened?” Emmeline was first to come to her husband’s aid as she led him into a vacant chair and gestured for Lucy-Anne to pour a cup of tea. 

Derek Fitzroy shook his head, shutting his hazel eyes. His usually drawn features were pale despite his almost tanned complexion. “It’s too late, everything is lost.” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

Henrietta’s mouth fell open as she glanced at her sister and mother. “What do you mean everything is lost, Papa?” 

“All the money, the family’s wealth, investments, and savings. There isn’t even a penny left for your dowries.” Their father uttered the last words as if he were about to faint. 

Taking control of the situation, Emmeline sat in front of her husband, forcing him to sip the sweet tea Lucy-Anne had prepared. “Now, start at the beginning and tell us everything that happened. It can’t be all that bad.” 

Derek composed himself before looking into his wife’s eyes. “Ernest and I made a bad investment; it seemed like a good idea at the time. We did our research and everything. The figures looked good on paper, but the charlatans took the money and ran as soon as it was in their hands.” 

Henrietta sat up straight as the blood drained from her face. “Do you mean Cousin Ernest?” 

Her father nodded. “He invested just as much as I did. The family is left without a penny. There is no hope of keeping the scandal hidden unless we come up with a great deal of money and quickly. I’m afraid we will all be ruined if we do not act now.” 

“I don’t understand. How will we come up with such a large sum of money in such a short time?” Emmeline sat back with her hands in her lap, looking more crestfallen than Henrietta had ever seen her. 

Marianna stood and began to pace in her dramatic fashion. “Surely something can be done; our family has always stuck together, even in the hardest times.” 

Lucy-Anne bit her lower lip and left the room, quietly excusing herself from family affairs. 

“What can be done about the matter, Papa? Surely there is something?” Henrietta took a deep breath, keeping her cool as she always did in strenuous situations. It didn’t make any sense to her that her father and their cousin had got into such a perilous situation; they had always had such shining examples of how business needed to be conducted. 

“We will all have to play our parts.” The earl lifted his face and looked at his eldest daughter, holding her gaze longer than necessary.

The pit of her stomach coiled with fear. The look in her father’s eyes let Henrietta know that things were about to get a lot more difficult for them all, especially for her. He didn’t need to tell her what he was thinking for Henrietta to know just how dire his suggestion would be for her. 

 

Chapter Two

The carriage rattled over the country road, jostling Henrietta along with her mother, sister, and father. She couldn’t believe that her father had suggested she marry a rich man just to save them all from ruin. She hadn’t been the one who had lost the fortunes, but it seemed as if he expected her to restore them single-handedly. 

“This was a ridiculous idea; we shouldn’t be on our way to a ball in Bath when we haven’t even the money for any new dresses. Half the guests will realize that the girls have been seen in these dresses before.” Emmeline sighed heavily and shook her head, eliciting a grumble of displeasure from her husband. 

Looking down at her lap, Henrietta examined the fine silk of her light blue dress. In her opinion, there was nothing wrong about wearing a dress more than once. The main problem with the situation was her father’s insistence upon her finding a wealthy husband at the ball. 

“Nobody will care about your dresses; most of the people in Bath hardly come to London in any case.” Derek clenched his jaw and gripped his seat when the carriage hit what seemed like a large stone, throwing them all to the side. 

“If none of the people in Bath come to London, then why are we looking for Henrietta’s husband here? Surely there would be wealthier men in London?” Marianna spoke up for the first time since they entered the carriage, naively adding her thoughts. 

Their father averted his gaze, looking out the carriage window without venturing an answer. 

“I think a better question is why we are looking for a husband for me at all when all of us should be looking for suitable paying positions,” Henrietta said, knowing very well that she’d rouse her father’s anger. Derek Fitzroy was a proud man who didn’t take lightly to any suggestions of gainful employment among the upper class. 

Derek snapped, tightening his fists over his knees. “You know very well that I will not allow anything of the sort. The decision has been made, and I won’t hear anything further on the matter. You will marry a wealthy man, and that is final.” 

“And if I refuse to be the bait with which you set your trap? And what of my dowry that is no longer there? Must the poor man accept me with nothing?” She looked her father in the eyes, defiantly refusing to be a pawn in his scheme. 

Her father’s eyes darkened threateningly as he lifted his chin and glared at her. “You seem to be living under a false assumption of naivety. As your father, I have the right to say whom you should marry. It is none of your concern what will happen with your dowry; that is something that the gentleman and I shall discuss.”

Emmeline looked as if she were about to say something but shut her mouth and looked out the window with sadness. 

Her pulse began to race as the carriage stopped in front of a sprawling country mansion.  

Is this really how things will play out? 

She wondered if she would spend the rest of her life in a loveless marriage, doomed to silence as she watched her life pass her by in some forgotten section of an old country home. 

“I expect all of you to be on your best behaviour this evening.” Derek sniffed proudly and stepped out of the carriage. 

Marianna and their mother followed suit, shooting apologetic glances in her direction. Was nobody going to take her side and stand up for what was right? Her mother had always insisted that marrying for love was better than fortune, not that her parents’ marriage was any kind of example on that score. Her father was a tyrant, while her mother did as he said, acting as the dutiful countess. 

Giving herself over to the situation at hand, Henrietta exited the carriage, reassuring herself that she could always oppose whatever man was presented to her. Her father could lead her to a man, but she still had to agree. 

The cool evening air kissed the skin of her neck and chest. The pale blue dress of silk she had chosen allowed just enough room for her skin to breathe. She detested stuffy dresses as much as she hated her father’s insistence. The mansion loomed high above her with stone buttresses and hundreds of windows with flickering candles. The sun had just begun to set, and several torches had been lit, illuminating a path up the stone steps. Her parents and her sister had gone ahead, leaving her to follow them whether she wanted to or not. 

She had barely taken a step away from the carriage when she felt her foot hooking on a loose stone. The world around her blurred as she felt herself tumbling with no hope of anything to grab onto. 

Strong hands gripped her arms, spinning her around just before she hit the ground. 

Her breath caught in her chest as Henrietta looked into the intense gaze of the drawing that had stared up at her from the scandal sheet. Whoever had drawn the sketch had done his handsome features justice; there was no mistaking Baron St John. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the mask. 

What lurked beneath the pure white porcelain? 

The baron pulled her up and placed her on her feet as if she weighed no more than a feather. The muscular arms and sculpted thighs instantly drew her attention. The same dangerous inkling of attraction tightened her chest and caused her lips to part slightly as she stepped back. 

She feared the baron would think her a fool if she continued to gawk at him like some kind of spectacle. Yet Henrietta couldn’t bring herself to utter a single word in his presence. The man oozed danger from every pore of his being. 

Glowering at her, he allowed his gaze to sweep over her thin frame, causing a rush of heat to flow through her body. Without saying a word, he walked past her and proceeded up the stairs, entering the ball as if nothing at all had happened. 

***

Benedict grumbled to himself as he made his way up the stairs and through the open doors. It was bad enough that his friend had persuaded him to attend the ball. The last thing he needed was an interaction with a beautiful young woman who looked at him as if he were a monster. 

How she had stepped away from him without saying a word had caused his anger to rise. People tended to judge him on rumours and looks alone instead of getting to know him better. Not that getting to know him was ever a possibility. He far preferred the solitude of his home to the company of stuck-up social butterflies. 

She was beautiful, though. 

Lust-filled thoughts took over for a moment as he recalled the softness of her skin and the gentle curve of her neck. It had been a long time since he’d been close enough to smell a woman’s perfume. The scent alone was enough to awaken his arousal. 

Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, Benedict entered the crowded room, ignoring the whispers and lude glances that followed his every move. Guests stepped aside or even fled as he picked a secluded corner and made his way over. 

“You certainly know how to make an entrance, I’ll give you that,” a familiar voice spoke up from behind him just as Benedict reached the secluded corner of the room. 

Turning to see his oldest and only friend grinning at him, Benedict breathed a sigh of relief despite the irritation he felt towards the situation. “I should have known you would have been skulking in a corner, Larson.” 

Gibbs Larson smoothed his thick black hair to the side and came to his friend’s side, holding a glass of whisky. His greyish, blue eyes shone mischievously. He was slightly shorter than Benedict, with a stocky build. “I wasn’t skulking; I merely anticipated your moves. I knew you would find the most remote corner of the room and head straight there.” 

Benedict felt a muscle in his jaw begin to twitch when two ladies walked by, eyeing him suspiciously before hurrying along. “This was a mistake. I don’t know why I allowed you to talk me into coming here,” he growled through his clenched teeth and glared at the woman. 

Shaking his head with an amused smirk, Gibbs patted his friend on the shoulder. “The women keep staring at you because you insist on wearing the godawful mask. Honestly, Benedict, I have seen your scars; they aren’t as bad as all that. You should take it off some time and live a little. It’s not healthy for you to be cooped up in that house all the time, alone with your books and telescopes. You need a wife.” 

“I need a drink and a reminder never to listen to you ever again,” Benedict said grumpily, touching his mask to ensure it was in place. “A woman would do nothing but add to my troubles.” His mind instantly wandered to the incident on the steps and the gorgeous blonde that had gawked at him like an insect. 

“How many years has it been now, ten? You have to move on with your life. I fear that if you don’t, you will wake up one day and realize that you’re a sad old man with nobody by his side.” 

Gibbs sipped his whisky, allowing his gaze to wander over the many young women gathered at the ball. 

A hush fell over the guests as everyone turned to see the blonde woman entering the room. Eyes followed her every move as she elegantly made her way into the throng, her head held high with a warm smile. A sudden rush of attraction flowed through his body, culminating in an unwanted arousal. She carried herself so gracefully that it almost seemed as if she were floating rather than walking. 

“Now that is a fine young woman. At least I can see you have good taste.” Gibbs raised his gaze slightly and motioned in her direction. “Her name is Henrietta Fitzroy; she’s the belle of every ball she attends. Whomever she decides to marry will be a lucky man indeed.” 

“Why hasn’t she married yet?” Benedict found it nearly impossible to tear his gaze from her as she stopped beside an older woman who seemed to be her mother. 

Gibbs sighed heavily. “Saving herself for true love, I am afraid. She’s one of ‘those’ ladies who will accept nothing less than the best, or so I am told, at least. I’ve never worked up the courage to ask her to dance myself.” 

Benedict watched as every man in the room seemed to orient themselves towards her. Women glared and whispered while men stared for what seemed like an inappropriate amount of time. It struck him as odd that everyone gawked at her in the same manner as they glared at him. He wondered if she enjoyed the attention or if it irked her to be the centre of what seemed like so much fuss. 

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you, my friend. Henrietta Fitzroy is a prize far beyond any other. If I were you, I would set my sights on someone a little less challenging.” Gibbs swirled the last few drops of the whisky in his glass before chugging it back. 

“I wasn’t thinking of trying my luck; women like that are nothing but trouble.” His eyes remained fixed on her elegant profile as she turned to speak to another guest. 

Nothing but trouble. 

His inner voice warned him against getting involved with anyone as dangerously beautiful as Henrietta Fitzroy. The name rolled through his mind like a gem in a mine full of coal, tucking itself away in a long-forgotten crevice. Even if he were looking for a wife, he certainly wouldn’t give any thought to her. 

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“Temptations of a Scarred Baron” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Henrietta Fitzroy gets lost in a web of familial deceit and societal pressure when her father’s reckless investments leave their family on the brink of ruin. Forced into an arranged marriage to secure their future, she gets betrothed to the notorious masked Baron. Initially distant, yet undeniably curious about her mysterious suitor, she embarks on a sinful journey to unravel the secrets that lie beneath the Baron’s enigmatic façade. As she delves deeper into the unconventional engagement, she discovers a sizzling passion she never imagined.

Will she succumb to her desires amidst a backdrop of whispered scandals?

Benedict Stanley, a brooding Baron with a haunted past, carries both physical and emotional scars that linger as constant reminders of his tragic history. Preferring the solace of isolation, he shrouds himself behind a mask, until he is trapped in a marriage by Henrietta’s scheming father. Benedict soon finds himself drawn to her spirited nature despite his efforts to guard his heart. Yet, as threats loom and scandalous rumors grow louder, secrets start to unfold.

If only a mask could carry a troubled past away…

Benedict and Henrietta discover a world of forbidden longing among the labyrinth corridors of the estate. However, their flaming romance catches the eye of cunning figures with secret agendas, that plan to shatter their hopes for a better future. Will their love withstand the trials, or will the dark secrets tear them apart? Will they dare to defy everyone and surrender to their blazing love freed from the past’s veil?

“Temptations of a Scarred Baron” is a historical romance novel of approximately 60,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!