The Baron to Break, page 1
THE BARON TO BREAK
ALL THAT GLITTERS
TAMMY ANDRESEN
Copyright © 2023 by Tammy Andresen
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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CONTENTS
The Baron to Break
Note to Reader
Prologue
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
Epilogue
The Viscount to Avoid
About the Author
Other Titles by Tammy
THE BARON TO BREAK
What if Prince Charming wasn’t so charming? What if he was the bad guy?
Baron Robinson liked it that way. Except when his best friend’s sister, the lovely Miss Emily Cranston, is suddenly alone in the world, he knows it’s his duty to protect her.
Keeping her safe turns out to be a much larger job than he anticipated. Because while Emily is the picture of innocence, the trouble nipping at her heels is anything but.
Jacob might be a no-good rake…but a lady that vulnerable needs to be protected from real evil.
And the fact that she tempts him in all sorts of ways she ought not…. Well, he’s just going to have to keep her safe from that too. But while saving her from the world is a challenge, keeping his hands off her is proving to be impossible.
NOTE TO READER
This story is a twisted retelling of “Sleeping Beauty.” As I dug into the various versions of this fairy tale, some elements were best left in the dark ages (they creeped me out) while others were great elements to plant in this story. For example, in some versions, the prince was already married, which was not for us, while in others, the hero has a mother who attempts to kill Sleeping Beauty after they are wed! Disney left that part out, but I thought it would be great for our story. This might be the loosest of all the fairy tales in the “All That Glitters” series. I wanted Jacob to be her reluctant brother’s best friend which is not part of the any version of the original fairy tale, but Emily is definitely waking from a long sleep and finally learning to face her life. I hope you enjoy!
PROLOGUE
Jacob hated funerals. No one liked them, he was certain of that, but somehow, all that was wrong with his world had coalesced into one single event the day he’d buried his father and become Baron Robinson.
Not that he hadn’t known that his mother was part of why his particular world was so awful. But she’d stood next to his father’s grave, her elaborately designed dress stitched with layer upon layer of the finest lace dyed black, staring down at the grave with a marked frown. She’d not cried, nor had she said a single word of comfort to him.
She did hold the hand of his younger brother who’d stared sightlessly at the grave below. Eric wasn’t a bad brother as brothers went, but their mother did everything in her power to pit them against each other. Like now, holding Eric’s hand and not his.
On his other side had stood his best friend and the most steadying force in the world, Ashton Cranston.
Jacob drew in a deep breath, Ashton giving him a near imperceptible nod of comfort. Which was the only reason he managed to keep a blank stare when his mother had turned to him, the dirt not even covering his father’s grave, as she’d softly hissed, “I expect you to uphold your father’s treatment of me.”
He knew what she meant. Money. Always money with her. “Whatever do you mean, Mother? Could you be referring to the level of affection the two of you clearly shared?” His mother made no bones about the fact that she despised her husband. They’d been matched by their families. Poorly.
His mother, who wished to spend money without any limits, despised that her husband did the same. His mother was right in this one regard. Jacob’s father had been awful at running the finances. A fact that Jacob was going to have to right. His stomach clenched with dread knowing the uphill battle he faced.
“You know very well that I am used to a certain standard of living,” she hissed, ignoring the other guests that went by. She wasn’t foolish enough to be overheard but she didn’t grace them with even a nod either. It was always all about her.
“You’ll have to learn to live differently, Mother. Now that Father is dead, his debts are being called in. There is no choice.” Jacob glanced over at his friend so see Ashton softly greeting guests on their behalf as Jacob conducted this lovely little back and forth with his mother.
She’d sneered. “This wouldn’t be happening if Eric were the heir.”
Ashton’s hand gave him the slightest tap on the shoulder. Jacob knew his best friend was silently comforting him and from his position could hear every word, unlike the rest of the guests.
“I fail to see how Eric would have stopped our father from becoming indebted.”
“He’d take care of me,” she pushed out through clenched teeth. At five and thirty, his mother was still a great beauty, with flawless skin and large green eyes. Eyes that he shared. He briefly wondered what other parts of her lived inside him.
“Of course he would. And so will I,” he murmured, staring back at the coffin.
“Don’t listen,” Ash had whispered, having stepped closer to Jacob’s side. “She’s too selfish to see what a good man you are.”
“Thank you,” he whispered back. “I think I’m going to need a glass of whiskey after this.” Maybe the entire bottle. Anything to numb the loss of his father and the nagging doubt his mother didn’t care a lick about him.
What else might drown the pain pulsing through his chest?
Ten years later, he stood at a second funeral, no more comfortable than he’d been on the day he’d buried his father.
First, standing over another grave reminded him of all the choices he’d made during the last decade.
Financially, he’d made progress. Personally, however…
Jacob stood on the outskirts of a different funeral. Now it was Ash’s turn to bury not just one parent but both of his parents.
And despite the fact they’d drifted apart over the past ten years, Jacob living on the outskirts of society as he worked through his father’s debt and Ashton in the middle of the ton, Ash continued to be kind and helpful. He’d even aided Jacob in a few business ventures that had done a great deal to reduce the heavy burden Jacob carried.
Which was why he’d come today. Ash still deserved his allegiance and his support.
But something was very wrong because Ash wasn’t here today. He was not attending his parents’ funeral. Unlike Jacob’s family, Ash loved his parents and his sister, and he’d take great pains to see them cared for.
Where was his friend?
Ashton’s sister, Emily Cranston, stood alone over the two graves. He was struck first by her straight, dignified posture, and next by the tears that, despite the black veil that covered her eyes, still appeared on her cheeks and chin. Her lips quivered as she took several noticeable gulps.
He watched guests file past her, he noted the way, even through the grief, she held their hands, kissed their cheeks, thanked them for their support, offered them comfort.
He’d never seen a woman so young act with such kindness and grace. She stole his breath with how warmly dignified she looked there while standing all alone.
After a decade, he’d still not cleared his father’s debt entirely, and his relationship with his mother was more contentious then ever. He had enough problems still to sink a man.
But Ash had been the only thing that had held him up that day and as he watched Emily today, he knew someone had to do the same for her.
Ash deserved his help.
And as he watched Emily, he knew without a doubt, she deserved it too.
CHAPTER ONE
There are times in life where change is so slow, it seems as though it isn’t happening at all. Miss Emily Cranston, daughter of Viscount and Viscountess Marsden, had spent years hoping to be out from beneath her mother’s watchful eye.
And for years, absolutely nothing had changed in this regard. Emily’s mother decided which parties she attended, to whom she spoke, what she ate, and when she slept. Emily had secretly begged for the iron hand of her mother to be lifted so that she might choose something, anything, for herself.
But now, at the age of twenty, without warning, not even the smallest hint, the greatest change of them all had occurred. Death.
Didn’t people often have a premonition in this regard? Some clue, a shiver or a dream or something that warned them irrevocable circumstances were about to occur?
She’d received not even the smallest hint…
And in one swift accident, a muddy road and an overturned carriage, she’d lost both her parents, and now, Emily found herself alone. She was finally able to make her own decisions, and she’d give it all back to have her parents with her. Alive. A tear slid down her cheek, covered by the veil she still wore on her head.
The funeral had been hours ago, but she’d not bothered to take her heavy veil off, nor had she removed the simple black gloves that still covered her hands. Anything lavish would have seemed…wrong.
Her brother had been gone for near a year on some tour of Europe and while word had been sent to him, Emily had no idea when he might return or how long she’d have to drift along these halls without a bit of company. He’d been due back months ago and not only had he not come home, they’d not received a single letter since he’d left France bound for Spain. Worry fluttered in her stomach.
She felt like a ghost in this moment, alone and not really living at all.
No one had prepared her for such an event. She’d been smothered in attention for years. What would she even do alone?
Her mother had been attempting to match Emily with some suitable lord for the last year and a half. Emily had tried her utmost to avoid the matches, not having found any of the men of particular interest.
They’d been much older, or dull, or not particularly handsome. Her mother had regularly thrown up her hands. “Lord Tinderwell owns more land than any duke in England. What’s the matter with you?”
“The matter?” she’d ask. Lord Tinderwell was twice her age and not a particularly good conversationalist. Was it wrong for a girl to wish for a bit of adventure? Excitement? Romance even?
She winced as she blotted more tears from her eyes. If she’d listened to her mother, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now.
She’d have her husband’s arm about her, facing her parents’ death, yes. But not the soul-crushing loneliness that filled her.
She lay down on the settee, tucking her hands under the side of her face. She’d written to her best friend, now the Duchess of Wingate. Surely Aubrey would be able to help her. Or at least keep her company while she waited for her mourning period to end and her brother to return.
And after that? Would her brother help her find a match? He’d have his own new duties to fulfill, being the heir.
Perhaps Tinderwell was still available. She sat up. His Grace could write to the man on her behalf, ask for a meeting…
Distantly, she knew these were the acts of a woman who was desperately afraid, but suddenly, she needed some anchor to hold her in place. She was adrift, alone, and adventure sounded like the silly girl’s notion who didn’t understand just how delightfully secure she’d been.
“Miss Cranston,” the butler spoke softly from the doorway. “I’m sorry to interrupt but you have visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Your father’s solicitor.” The butler cleared his throat. “And a second man who claims to be a friend of your brother’s, Lord Robinson.”
She stood, blinking several times, her gut giving a strange twist.
The solicitor she’d expected, though to be fair, she thought he’d not come calling until her brother had arrived.
But Lord Robinson…
She’d met him at Aubrey and Wingate’s wedding six months prior, which felt like a lifetime ago. Her father had allowed her to attend without her mother, trusting Aubrey and the Duke to be her chaperones.
Robinson was tall, dark, and exceptionally handsome, his piercing green eyes the color of grass and mystery. Not that she’d spoken a word to him, despite him being her brother’s childhood friend and a friend of the Duke. He was also a fair bit older than her—and a rake at that. Emily was well aware he’d never be interested in the likes of her.
Still, the trip had been a tantalizing taste of freedom that had elated Emily, though in this moment, her excitement seemed foolish. She ought to have stayed home. Found a suitor.
“Send them in,” she said.
“Both of them?” the butler asked, his brow furrowing in an unusual display of feeling.
She lifted her hand still holding her kerchief. “Lord Robinson is a longtime friend of Ashton’s. They attended Oxford together, both speaking fondly of the other.” Emily had had very little to do with financial affairs, her parents sheltering her from such dealings. “I’m certain he’ll be a great help during this meeting.”
The butler gave a stiff nod of assent before he disappeared again, returning with both men. As today had been the funeral, Emily felt it proper to accept callers offering condolences.
But tomorrow, she’d begin her period of isolation as she mourned. She gave a shiver to think on it.
Lord Robinson entered, Mr. Barrow just behind him. Despite her thick crepe veil, Emily still noticed how large Lord Robinson was. He had to be more than six feet and his shoulders were so broad.
The urge to hide behind him welled up inside her though she forced her feet to remain in her spot next to the mantle.
“Miss Cranston,” Lord Robinson said, giving a short bow as he took her hand in his. “Allow me to offer my sincere regret for your loss.”
She gave a nod, her throat clogging with tears. “Thank you,” she managed to whisper.
Mr. Barrow also bowed, offering similar words before his eyes strayed about the room. “No word from the new viscount?”
“No,” Emily said with a shake of her head.
“Is there some relative that can join you here?” Lord Robinson asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
Mr. Barrow cleared his throat. “I’ve written to your great aunt and await a response.”
Emily winced to think of the aging woman traveling. Her father’s sister and widow to the Marquess of Delvin, she was too old to make such a journey. “Thank you for your concern but I’m not sure she’ll come. I’ve written to the Duke and Duchess of Wingate. Perhaps when they arrive, they can escort me to her estate.”
“Excellent,” he said as Emily gestured for everyone to sit.
Lord Robinson sat next to her on the settee while Mr. Barrow took the seat across from them. A tea service was brought in, and she began to pour the cups automatically, as her mother had taught her to do.
“There are matters which we need to discuss,” Mr. Barrow added between sips of tea. “But I’d prefer to have your brother here before we began.”
“Then we shall be drinking a lot of tea, I think,” she answered with a shake of her head.
Lord Robinson gave a small laugh, his gaze darting to her and then back to Mr. Barrow. “Is Miss Cranston provided for financially while she awaits her brother’s return?”
“Yes,” Mr. Barrow answered with a nod. “If he doesn’t return—”
“Doesn’t return!” Emily cried, the thought of her brother not coming back more than she could bear. Her vision grew grey around the edges, and she felt herself sway until a steadying hand came to her back, another grasping her fingers into a large palm.
She knew it was Lord Robinson’s large hand that engulfed hers even as she had the urge to sink into the strength of his embrace.
“He’ll return,” came his quiet baritone. He sounded so confident, so self-assured, that she drew in a deep breath. She’d needed him to say that.
“Thank you,” she answered, trying to draw in another deep breath, draw up the strength this conversation—this day—required.
Lord Robinson’s hand was still on her back his large palm and long fingers nearly spreading from one side of her waist to the other. “Why don’t you let me speak with Mister Barrow? I’ll check in on you before I leave.”
Oh, that sounded wonderful. She wanted to rise to the occasion, but she felt as though she were sinking. With a quick nod, Lord Robinson helped her up and out the door. “I’ll just be in the study across the hall,” she murmured as he stayed by her side, strong hand holding her still, helping her into the room and then into a chair.
“Close your eyes and rest. I’ll be in soon.”
She gave a quick nod and did exactly as he’d requested. She’d wished for freedom, but she could see now how wrong she’d been. What she needed was someone who could care for because she didn’t have a clue how to care for herself.
