by Rose Pearson
The Reluctant Marquess (Prequel)
A Smithfield Market Regency Romance
The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset
The Rogue’s Flower
Saved by the Scoundrel
Mending the Duke
The Baron’s Malady
The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square
The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square: A Regency Romance Boxset
The Waiting Bride
The Long Return
The Duke’s Saving Grace
A New Home for the Duke
The Spinsters Guild
A New Beginning
The Disgraced Bride
A Gentleman’s Revenge
A Foolish Wager
Mistletoe Magic: A Regency Romance
Love and Christmas Wishes: Three Regency Romance Novellas
Collections with other Regency Authors
Love, One Regency Spring
Love a Lord in Summer
Please continue on to the next page for a preview of the first book in The Spinsters Guild series, A New Beginning! If you have already read A New Beginning, please try The Returned Lords of Grosvenor Square: A Regency Romance Boxset. It will keep you entertained for hours!
Happy Reading!
All my love,
A Sneak Peek of A New Beginning
Chapter One
“Good evening, Miss Taylor.”
Miss Emily Taylor, daughter to the Viscount Chesterton, kept her gaze low to the ground, her stomach knotting. The gentleman who had greeted her was, at this present moment, looking at her with something akin to a leer, his balding head already gleaming in the candlelight.
“Good evening, Lord Smithton,” she murmured, hearing the grunt from her father than indicated she should be doing more than simply acknowledging the gentleman’s presence. The last thing Emily wished to do, however, was to encourage the man any further. He was, to her eyes, grotesque, and certainly not a suitable match for someone who had only recently made her debut, even if he was a Marquess.
“Emily is delighted to see you this evening,” her father said, giving Emily a small push forward. “I am certain she will be glad to dance with you whenever you wish!”
Emily closed her eyes, resisting the urge to step back from the fellow, in the knowledge that should she do so, her father would make certain that consequences would follow. She could not bring herself to speak, almost feeling Lord Smithton’s eyes roving over her form as she opened her eyes and kept her gaze low.
“You know very well that I would be more than pleased to accompany you to the floor,” Lord Smithton said, his voice low and filled with apparent longing. Emily suppressed a shudder, forcing herself to put her hand out and let her dance card drop from her wrist. Lord Smithton, however, did not grasp her dance card but took her hand in his, making a gasp escape from her mouth. The swift intake of breath from behind her informed Emily that she was not alone in her surprise and shock, for her mother also was clearly very upset that Lord Smithton had behaved in such an improper fashion. Her father, however, said nothing and, in the silence that followed, allowed himself a small chuckle.
Emily wanted to weep. It was obvious that her father was not about to say a single word about Lord Smithton’s improper behavior. Instead, it seemed he was encouraging it. Her heart ached with the sorrow that came from having a father who cared so little for her that he would allow impropriety in front of so many of the beau monde. Her reputation could be stained from such a thing, whispers spread about her, and yet her father would stand by and allow them to go about her without even a twinge of concern.
Most likely, this was because his intention was for Emily to wed Lord Smithton. It had been something Emily had begun to suspect during these last two weeks, for Lord Smithton had been present at the same social gatherings as she had attended with her parents, and her father had always insisted that she greet him. Nothing had been said as yet, however, which came as something of a relief, but deep down, Emily feared that her father would simply announce one day that she was engaged to the old, leering Lord Smithton.
“Wonderful,” Lord Smithton murmured, finally letting go of Emily’s hand and grasping her dance card. “I see that you have no others as yet, Miss Taylor.”
“We have only just arrived,” said Emily’s mother, from just behind Emily. “That is why –”
“I am certain that Lord Smithton does not need to know such things,” Lord Chesterton interrupted, silencing Emily’s mother immediately. “He is clearly grateful that Emily has not yet had her head turned by any other gentleman as yet.”
Closing her eyes tightly, Emily forced herself to breathe normally, aware of how Lord Smithton chuckled at this. She did not have any feelings of attraction or even fondness for Lord Smithton but yet her father was stating outright that she was interested in Lord Smithton’s attentions!
“I have chosen the quadrille, the waltz and the supper dance, Miss Taylor.”
Emily’s eyes shot open, and she practically jerked back the dance card from Lord Smithton’s hands, preventing him from finishing writing his name in the final space. Her father stiffened beside her, her mother gasping in shock, but Emily did not allow either reaction to prevent her from keeping her dance card away from Lord Smithton.
“I am afraid I cannot permit such a thing, Lord Smithton,” she told him plainly, her voice shaking as she struggled to find the confidence to speak with the strength she needed. “Three dances would, as you know, send many a tongue wagging and I cannot allow such a thing to happen. I am quite certain you will understand.” She lifted her chin, her stomach twisting this way and that in fright as Lord Smithton narrowed his eyes and glared at her.
“My daughter is quite correct, Lord Smithton,” Lady Chesterton added, settling a cold hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Three dances are, as you know, something that the ton will notice and discuss without dissention.”
Emily held her breath, seeing how her father and Lord Smithton exchanged a glance. Her eyes began to burn with unshed tears but she did not allow a single one to fall. She was trying to be strong, was she not? Therefore, she could not allow herself to show Lord Smithton even a single sign of weakness.
“I suppose that is to be understood,” Lord Smithton said, eventually, forcing a breath of relief to escape from Emily’s chest, weakening her. “Given that I have not made my intentions towards you clear, Miss Taylor.”
The weakness within her grew all the more. “Intentions?” she repeated, seeing the slow smile spreading across Lord Smithton’s face and feeling almost sick with the horror of what was to come.
Lord Smithton took a step closer to her and reached for her hand, which Emily was powerless to refuse. His eyes were fixed on hers, his tongue running across his lower lip for a moment before he spoke.
“Your father and I have been in discussions as regards your dowry and the like, Miss Taylor,” he explained, his hand tightening on hers. “We should come to an agreement very soon, I am certain of it.”
Emily closed her eyes tightly, feeling her mother’s hand still resting on her shoulder and forcing herself to focus on it, to feel the support that she needed to manage this moment and all the emotions that came with it.
“We shall be wed before Season’s end,” Lord Smithton finished, grandly, as though Emily would be delighted with such news. “We shall be happy and content, shall we not, Miss Taylor?”
The lump in Emily’s throat prevented her from saying anything. She wanted to tell Lord Smithton that he had not even asked her to wed him, had not considered her answer, but the words would not come to her lips. Of course, she would have no choice in the matter. Her father would make certain of that.
“You are speechless, of course,” Lord Smithton chuckled, as her father grunted his approval. “I know that this will come as something of a surprise that I have denied myself towards marrying someone such as you, but I have no doubt that we shall get along rather famously.” His chuckle became
dark, his hand tightening on hers until it became almost painful. “You are an obedient sort, are you not?”
“She is,” Emily heard her father say, as she opened her eyes to see Lord Smithton’s gaze running over her form. She had little doubt as to what he was referring to, for her mother had already spoken to her about what a husband would require from his wife, and the very thought terrified her.
“Take her, now.”
Lord Smithton let go of Emily’s hand and gestured towards Lady Chesterton, as though she were his to order about.
“Take her to seek some refreshment. She looks somewhat pale.” He laughed and then turned away to speak to Emily’s father again, leaving Emily and her mother standing together.
Emily’s breathing was becoming ragged, her heart trembling within her as she struggled to fight against the dark clouds that were filling her heart and mind. To be married to such an odious gentleman as Lord Smithton was utterly terrifying. She would have no joy in her life any longer, not even an ounce of happiness in her daily living. Was this her doing? Was it because she had not been strong enough to stand up to her own father and refuse to do as he asked? Her hands clenched hard, her eyes closing tightly as she fought to contain the sheer agony that was deep within her heart.
“My dear girl, I am so dreadfully sorry.”
Lady Chesterton touched her arm but Emily jerked away, her eyes opening. “I cannot marry Lord Smithton, Mama.”
“You have no choice,” Lady Chesterton replied, sadly, her own eyes glistening. “I have tried to speak to your father but you know the sort of gentleman he is.”
“Then I shall run away,” Emily stated, fighting against the desperation that filled her. “I cannot remain.”
Lady Chesterton said nothing for a moment or two, allowing Emily to realize the stupidity of what she had said. There was no-one else to whom she could turn to, no-one else to whom she might escape. The only choices that were open to her were either to do as her father asked or to find another who might marry her instead – and the latter gave her very little hope.
Unless Lord Havisham….
The thought was pushed out of her mind before she could begin to consider it. She had become acquainted with Lord Havisham over the few weeks she had been in London and he had appeared very attentive. He always sought her out to seek a dance or two, found her conversation engaging and had even called upon her on more than one occasion. But to ask him to consider marrying her was something that Emily simply could not contemplate. He would think her rude, foolish and entirely improper, particularly when she could not be certain that he had any true affection for her.
But if you do nothing, then Lord Smithton will have his way.
“Emily.”
Her mother’s voice pulled her back to where she stood, seeing the pity and the helplessness in her mother’s eyes and finding herself filling with despair as she considered her future.
“I do not want to marry Lord Smithton,” Emily said again, tremulously. “He is improper, rude and I find myself afraid of him.” She saw her mother drop her head, clearly struggling to find any words to encourage Emily. “What am I to do, mama?”
“I – I do not know.” Lady Chesterton looked up slowly, a single tear running down her cheek. “I would save you from this if I could, Emily but there is nothing I can do or say that will prevent your father from forcing this upon you.”
Emily felt as though a vast, dark chasm had opened up underneath her feet, pulling her down into it until she could barely breathe. The shadows seemed to fill her lungs, reaching in to tug at her heart until it beat so quickly that she felt as though she might faint.
“I must go,” Emily whispered, reaching out to grasp her mother’s hand for a moment. “I need a few minutes alone.” She did not wait for her mother to say anything, to give her consent or refusal, but hurried away without so much as a backward look. She walked blindly through the crowd of guests, not looking to the left or to the right but rather straight ahead, fixing her gaze on her goal. The open doors that led to the dark gardens.
The cool night air brushed at her hot cheeks but Emily barely noticed. Wrapping her arms about her waist, she hurried down the steps and then sped across the grass, not staying on the paths that wound through the gardens themselves. She did not know where she was going, only that she needed to find a small, dark, quiet space where she might allow herself to think and to cry without being seen.
She soon found it. A small arbor kept her enclosed as she sank down onto the small wooden bench. No sound other than that of strains of music and laughter from the ballroom reached her ears. Leaning forward, Emily felt herself begin to crumble from within, her heart aching and her mind filled with despair. There was no way out. There was nothing she could do. She would have to marry Lord Smithton and, in doing so, would bring herself more sadness and pain than she had ever felt before.
There was no-one to rescue her. There was no-one to save her. She was completely and utterly alone.
Chapter Two
Three days later and Emily had stopped her weeping and was now staring at herself in the mirror, taking in the paleness of her cheeks and the dullness of her eyes.
Her father had only just now informed her that she was to be wed by the Season’s end and was now to consider herself engaged. There had been no discussion. There had been not even a thought as to what she herself might feel as regarded Lord Smithton. It had simply been a matter of course. She was to do as her father had directed, as she had been taught to do.
Emily swallowed hard, closing her eyes tightly as another wave of tears crashed against her closed lids. Was this to be her end? Married to Lord Smithton, a gentleman whom she despised, and allowing herself to be treated in any way he chose? It would be a continuation of her life as it was now. No consideration, no thought was given to her. Expected to do as she was instructed without question – and no doubt the consequences would be severe for her if she did not do as Lord Smithton expected.
A shudder ran through her and Emily opened her eyes. For the first time, a small flickering flame of anger ignited and began to burn within her. Was she simply going to allow this to be her life? Was she merely going to step aside and allow Lord Smithton and her father to come to this arrangement without her acceptance? Was she truly as weak as all that?
Heat climbed up her spine and into her face. Weak was a word to describe her, yes. She was weak. She had tried, upon occasion, to do as she pleased instead of what her father had demanded of her and the punishment each time had broken her spirit all the more until she had not even a single thought about disobeying him. It had been what had led to this circumstance. If she had been stronger, if she had been more willing to accept the consequences of refusing to obey her father without question without allowing such a thing to break her spirit, then would she be as she was now?
“Then mayhap there is a time yet to change my circumstances.”
The voice that came from her was weak and tremulous but with a lift of her chin, Emily told herself that she needed to try and find some courage if she was to find any hope of escaping Lord Smithton. And the only thought she had was that of Lord Havisham.
Viscount Havisham was, of course, lower in title and wealth than the Marquess of Smithton, but that did not matter to Emily. They had discovered a growing acquaintance between them, even though it was not often that her father had let her alone to dance and converse with another gentleman. It had been a blessing that the requests to call upon her had come at a time when her father had been resting from the events of the previous evening, for her and her mother had been able to arrange for him to call when Lord Chesterton had been gone from the house. However, nothing of consequence had ever been shared between them and he certainly had not, as yet, made his request to court her but mayhap it had simply been too soon for such a decision. Regardless, Emily could not pretend that they did not enjoy a comfortable acquaintance, with easy conversation and many warm glances shared between them. In truth, her
heart fluttered whenever she laid eyes upon him, for his handsome features and his broad smile had a profound effect upon her.
It was her only chance to escape from Lord Smithton. She had to speak to Lord Havisham and lay her heart bare. She had to trust that he too had a fondness for her, in the same way that she had found her affections touched by him. Else what else was she to do?
Lifting her chin, Emily closed her eyes and took in a long breath to steady herself. After a moment of quiet reflection, she rose and made her way to the writing table in the corner of the bedchamber, sitting down carefully and picking up her quill.
“Miss Taylor.”
Emily’s breath caught as she looked up into Lord Havisham’s face. His dark blue eyes held a hint of concern, his smile somewhat tensed as he bowed in greeting.
“Lord Havisham,” she breathed, finding even his very presence to be overwhelming. “You received my note, then.”
“I did,” he replied, with a quick smile, although a frown began to furrow his brow. “You said that it was of the utmost importance that we spoke this evening.”
Emily nodded, looking about her and seeing that her father was making his way up the small staircase towards the card room, walking alongside Lord Smithton. Their engagement was to be announced later this evening and Emily knew she had to speak to Lord Havisham before that occurred.
“I know this is most untoward, but might we speak in private?” she asked, reaching out and surreptitiously putting her hand on his arm, battling against the fear of impropriety. She had done this much, she told herself. Therefore, all she had to do was continue on as she had begun and her courage might be rewarded.
Lord Havisham hesitated. “That may be a little….”
