A Season For Romance (The Seldon Park Christmas Novella Book 5)

by Bethany Sefchick

  Harris remained at Grayfield because his father had been loyal to the previous marquess and when his own father had passed away, Harris took over the duties of serving the Marquess of Kingsford. Now that Beau was the marquess instead of his father? Well, Harris saw little reason to change things, curse or no. After all, a man was a man, and they all shaved the same way. Harris was fairly pragmatic in that regard and Beau liked that about him.

  The rest of the staff? Well, for the most part, Beau offered exceedingly high wages and there were few people along the Suffolk coast who could or would turn down such an opportunity for betterment. No matter how much Beau snapped and snarled at them on occasion. Which he tried not to do, too often. Good help was difficult to find, after all.

  “Beau? Have you been listening to anything I just said?” Nathaniel poked him hard in the shoulder.

  Beau looked around in something of a daze, realizing that at some point Harris had vanished. He hadn’t even heard the man depart after delivering the weather report. “No. I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  Nathaniel nodded in the direction of the sleeping golden angel. “I was saying that I was able to wrangle some information about our lovely guest out of the coachman before he died, along with a small notebook the man has been keeping on the lady at the Ryfell’s request.”

  “Oh?” Now the physician had Beau’s entire interest. He had wondered why a lone carriage was traveling the very desolate back road toward the coast, one that crossed through McCandless lands, especially at this time of night and in this sort of wretched weather. Especially a coach carrying a lone female passenger. A female that most certainly looked like a lady.

  “Her name is Lady Dinah Crestfield.” Nathaniel held up a rather damp book that Beau knew had come from the carriage driver’s coat pocket. “She is the daughter of the late Viscount Gilrod of Westbrook-on-Green. She grew up at Canton Hall and was known as the Beauty of Bedfordshire for the longest time. She had a single London Season and was presented at court, as expected, but she was considered too provincial for Town and returned home without a marriage proposal.”

  Beau frowned, glancing back at the sleeping woman again. “She is utterly lovely. How could anyone not see that with a single glance?”

  “People are blind. And stupid. Or both.” Nathaniel cleared his throat as Beau took the full measure of the man’s meaning. “Unfortunately, her father gambled that she would wed quickly to a wealthy peer and then he gambled away all of their fortune during the ensuing months. He died in debtor’s prison and she became a seamstress for a brief period of time. A distant cousin eventually inherited the viscountcy, as she was the only child. There was speculation that the two would eventually wed when her mourning period ended, but they did not. Here, now, is where the tale gets interesting.”

  Beau raised an eyebrow. “More interesting, you mean?” For he found this creature truly fascinating, even though she had not said a word.

  Nathaniel shrugged. “In need of work, for her cousin was planning to wed another, she answered an advertisement in the Town Tattler for a position as a governess. For a reclusive duke living in Norfolk with six children.”

  Beau closed his eyes, a sick feeling washing through him. “Let me guess. Lord Ryfell again. That would explain the route they chose and why they were traveling at this unseemly hour. Alone.” He glanced at the sleeping form on the bed again. The lady appeared so sweet and innocent, but was she? “Did she know of the duke’s true motives?”

  “That the position was for that of a mistress and that he is rumored to simply dispose of his previous lovers in brothels when they become bothersome?” Nathaniel shook his head. “Unlikely, though the coachman’s notes do not say. And he was keeping rather detailed notes on her from the first. I discovered that Lady Dinah and her cousin, Edward Marshton, parted on fairly amicable terms, despite everything. Not to mention that the cousin seemed to express some trepidation when the lady left Canton Hall.” The physician shook the book angrily. “At least according to the coachman’s notes. It was already a mark against her that she had family ties of some sort, so I don’t think she would have pleased Ryfell for long.” He paused. “Unfortunately, I have no doubt that she is still innocent, however, and that makes her very attractive to Ryfell, as you well know. He does not give up his playthings easily and he was expecting her to arrive soon.”

  Blowing out a slow breath, Beau yanked his hand through his hair. “Then I have no doubt that Ryfell will want her back just as soon.” Then he looked at Nathaniel as if something had just occurred to him. “And the coachman?”

  “Passed away.” Nathaniel shrugged as if the man’s life didn’t matter and given that the man had already been identified as a common criminal, it probably hadn’t. “He was half dead when we pulled him from the river since he was so badly injured in the crash itself. He died shortly after we pulled him out. Lady Dinah would have died as well, had you not seen that light veer off into the flooded marshland.”

  “I thought the lights were from poachers again.” Beau shook his head with a sigh. It was well known that the Marquess of Kingsford guarded his gamelands well and did not take kindly to poachers. Yet there were those still willing to risk the wrath of the law, especially on nights like tonight when the weather would most likely hide their nefarious deeds.

  Beau had been cleaning one of his many telescopes in the western tower room when he had watched a single, dim light emerge from the swirling snow and then plunge into the darkness of the marshy forest road beyond. Something in his gut had tightened at the sight of that light and he had immediately called for Harris and Nathaniel, both of whom lived at Grayfield, to ride out with him and investigate. Now he was thankful beyond words that he had done so. If not, the lovely Lady Dinah truly would be an angel by now.

  “What will you do now that you know the truth of why she was out there?” That came from Nathaniel, of course. “It’s not as if you can keep her here.” Then he grinned. “Or perhaps you can if you set your mind to it.”

  Shaking his head, Beau turned away. “You know I can’t do that, no matter how much I might wish to do so. Besides, she is a lady and likely knows all about the Cursed Marquess, even if she knows naught about Ryfell. I can assure you, she won’t stay. Not here and not with me.” Then he glanced out the window where snow and wind continued to batter the thick panes of glass. “Well, she may stay with me a few days, I suppose. That is something akin to ‘keeping her here’ as you so boldly suggested. I doubt even Ryfell would venture out to reclaim her until the storm passes and the roads reopen.”

  Nathaniel was quiet now and far too contemplative for Beau’s liking. “So you would hand her over to him if he knocked upon your door in search of her?”

  “Of course not!” Beau scoffed a bit indignantly. “I would be signing the lady’s death warrant. Like as not, she would die of the pox, if nothing else. No, as soon as the roads are clear, I will send her on her way in my coach. Back to Bedfordshire if she wishes or on to London if that is her choice. I care not. We will leave the duke’s coach where it lays for now, and when Ryfell’s men come? They will find the smashed coach and no sign of its occupants.”

  “The river is swift and deep at this time of year,” the physician agreed thoughtfully. “It will be even higher later in a day or two when the snow ceases and some of it begins to melt. It would be unlikely that a body would remain in the area for long. If anything, a corpse would probably have long since been swept out to sea. We are very near the coast after all.”

  As plans went, it was not a good one. For a man of science and learning like Beau, it was actually quite terrible. For a fool like Ryfell who employed even more foolish and criminal men, however? The plan would serve its intended purpose – to keep Lady Dinah Crestfield out of the clutches of a man who wanted nothing more than a new innocent for his bed so that he could turn her into a whore for his pleasure before discarding her.

  Well, Beau decided as he turned away from the sight of the
sleeping golden angel and slowly made his way back to his quarters, Ryfell would have to choose another woman for that dubious honor. For he would not have Lady Dinah. At least not while Beau had anything to say about the matter. And at present, Beau had plenty to say – none of which Ryfell would like.

  Chapter Three

  She was warm. That was the first thing Dinah noticed when she awoke. She hadn’t been warm in days. In fact, the last she remembered, she was freezing cold and soaking wet.

  She had been about to die.

  The arms that had rescued her had been warm, though. Strong arms. Caring arms. Those arms had held her close. Kept her safe.

  It was also still dark outside. Though perhaps not quite as dark as it had been earlier. Near dawn perhaps?

  She was also someplace soft and lovely. Not as lovely as those arms, of course, but nice all the same.

  Thoughts swirled around and around in Dinah’s mind until they began to form something of a hazy picture in her memory. Edward. Leaving Canton Hall. The carriage ride from Hades. The accident. But most of all, she remembered the arms.

  Slowly, Dinah opened her eyes almost afraid of what she might see when she did so. She needn’t have been. For she was in an exquisitely furnished room that spoke of wealth and taste and refinement. This was a room fit for a duchess or at the very least a high-ranking lady of the nobility. The room was done in muted shades of pale pink, rose, and cream. It was soft and light and airy, the sort of room she had long wished for as a child. A fire crackled brightly in the hearth, scattering light around to the far corners of the room where the numerous branches of candles placed about did not quite reach.

  The bed was soft and fluffy, the sheets and counterpane of the highest quality. The air smelled lightly of lavender and something else almost pungently sweet. This was the room of a lady. And Dinah had no idea what on earth she was doing here.

  Sitting up, she pushed herself up onto her elbows and gave a little shriek when a figure in the far corner of the room turned and blinked at her just as Dinah was about to call out for someone.

  “Oh!” Dinah exclaimed just as the other person said nearly the same.

  “My lady. You are awake. My lord will be so very glad to hear the delightful news.” The unknown woman bobbed a curtsey though it was clear from her poor form she hadn’t much cause to use the gesture. “I am Cecily. I am to be your lady’s maid while you are here with us.”

  Glancing around, Dinah took in the details of the fine room again. Her mind still spun a bit, and she could feel a bit of a megrim at her temples. “Where exactly is here?” she asked. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much.”

  The maid clucked in sympathy. “Nathaniel, excuse me, Dr. Longford, said you might not recall much after that nasty coach accident. Awful thing, it was.” Then the maid puffed up with a pride that Dinah had never seen before. “As to your question, you are at Grayfield, my lady. It is the country seat of Lord Beaufort McCandless, the Marquess of Kingsford.”

  “Really?” Dinah glanced around again. Out of all of the Suffolk estates where the coach could have possibly crashed, she had never imagined this one. After all, no one came here. Ever. At least not as far as she knew. “I’ve heard of the marquess, of course. Though I never imagined that I would be in his home.”

  “Oh.” That seemed to deflate Cecily’s enthusiasm just a bit. “So you have heard of the, er, Cursed Marquess.”

  “Who in Society, or England for that matter, hasn’t?” Dinah struggled to sit up a bit more but found herself extremely weak. Just what had she survived last night? Oh, well. There would be plenty of time to learn the details later, she supposed, especially since she could still see snow dancing outside her window. She doubted she would be going anywhere soon in this weather. “Not that I believe a word of those silly rumors, of course. Gypsy curses! What foolery and nonsense! Truly!” And as of late, Dinah felt she had become something of an expert as to what was foolish nonsense and what was not. Gypsy curses, of course, most certainly were.

  Cecily paused in her fluffing of the pillows and scurrying about this way and that as if trying to anticipate what Dinah might request of her. “You, er, don’t, my lady? Believe in the curse that is? Forgive me for saying so, my lady, but most everyone else does.”

  Dinah snorted and then winced, the gesture causing her head to throb a bit more. “Yes, well, I have come to know a good bit about foolery as of late.” She sighed and rubbed her temples. “Perhaps I am even something of an expert on the subject. Thus, I know nonsense when I hear it. So I can say with authority that gypsy curses are a lot of foolish nonsense. They do not exist, and they never have.”

  “But those for miles around say he is also a fearsome sort,” Cecily pressed. “A beast really. I’m certain word of his temper has even reached London. Does that not worry you, my lady? For I feel certain such a thing would worry me.”

  “All men can be beasts at times, Cecily,” Dinah replied evenly, her head beginning to throb a bit. “And vicious gossip can take a little thing and make it far bigger than it is, simply for sport.”

  Dinah had watched that happen with her father who, admittedly, had possessed something of a temper himself. One night during her Season in Town, Papa had argued with Mrs. Temple, the woman engaged to be Dinah’s chaperone for the Season. It had been an argument over slippers of all things, but her father had raged at the poor woman until she swooned in the middle of a ball.

  Most of the servants at Canton Hall were accustomed to Papa’s infamous temper that burned brightly for a few moments and then faded away shortly thereafter. Mrs. Temple was not. Papa was also, unfortunately, rather indiscriminate about the people he bellowed at as well – be they fellow nobles or lowly servants. Male or female, everyone was a target for her father’s ire when he was angry, including the unfortunate Mrs. Temple.

  That incident, which had been witnessed by Lady A – the unknown Town Tattler gossip – was widely reported the next day. And the day after that and the day after that, until the incident had gone from a simple argument to a physical altercation where Papa was said to have bodily tossed Mrs. Temple out onto the street. That wasn’t true. Nor were the five or six other variations of the same story that had made the rounds.

  The rumor had stuck, however, and Dinah’s father had been branded as a man who abused women. The idea had been abhorrent, for as much as her father had raged at everyone around him from time to time, he had never struck anyone in his life, not even a male, let alone a female.

  Thus, Dinah found stories of men’s so-called “beastly” tempers often difficult to believe.

  “If you say so, my lady.” The maid still looked a bit uncertain, as if she did not know quite what to make of Dinah and her complete lack of fear at being in the home of the notorious Marquess of Kingsford.

  “I do say so,” Dinah pronounced stoutly. “Beastly tempers and gypsy curses! What a lot of rot! If the gentleman does have a temper, it is little wonder since his staff goes about spouting such nonsense to guests, even uninvited ones. Anyone who dares come here would likely fear for their lives before they took two steps inside the front door!”

  From somewhere nearby, Dinah heard a snort of derision. Or possibly laughter. She could not be certain. That caught her attention rather quickly. She had assumed she was alone with the maid. Apparently not.

  “Who is there?” she called out. Not that Dinah had any right to demand anything. She was, after all, merely a guest in the marquess’ home. And probably an unwelcome guest at that.

  Then Dinah heard the shuffling of feet, as if whoever was there was trying to flee without being seen. Was it the marquess himself? Surely not, for that made no sense. Why would he be spying on her? He was the marquess. He could walk right into her chambers if he wished, even though that wouldn’t have been the least bit proper. Though he still could have done so if he had wished.

  That left only a member of the marquess’s staff as a possibility. If that was the case, well, then the marqu
ess needed to know that his staff was stooping to eavesdropping on guests. She doubted that he would care for that very much. No matter what else might be true about the man, Lord Kingsford had always been spoken of as being a completely proper gentleman above reproach.

  Over Cecily’s protests, Dinah somehow managed to disentangle herself from the sheets and put her bare feet on the floor. She had been braced for a sharp, biting chill, for manor houses were notoriously drafty. Canton Hall was positively frigid in the winter. Yet the floor here was, well not warm exactly, but cool-ish. Certainly not freezing cold and by far more tolerable than she would have expected. She would have to ask how such a thing was accomplished for the concept fascinated her. Really. However, at present, the footsteps were getting farther away and Dinah truly wished to see who had been lurking about in her chambers.

  Papa had always said that curiosity was one of Dinah’s biggest flaws. In recent months, Dinah herself had come to the conclusion that perhaps narcissism was instead, and that curiosity was rather something to be celebrated. That, too, was thought for another time and on trembling legs, Dinah somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other and make her way to the door.

  Cecily protested, of course. That was what maids did. They upheld propriety. Dinah didn’t care. She meant to see who had been at her door.

  Reaching the hallway, Dinah’s knees nearly buckled for a moment, but she pressed on with her chase for she had spotted her quarry. Ahead of her was a man in finely tailored clothing striding briskly away from her chambers. He wore buff-colored breeches and a dark blue coat, along with a gleaming pair of black Hessian boots.

  “You there! Stop!” The figure did just as Dinah realized that the only person likely to be dressed so finely in this home was the marquess himself. Drat it all! And she had just insulted him! Oh well. There was naught to be done for the slight now, she supposed. “My lord! Please! Wait a moment! I beg of you!”