Lord to Love Again: A Sweet and Clean Regency Romance

by Grace Sellers

  “Do you know Louis is actually short for Lucifer because he’s such a mischievous puppy?”

  “Oh,” Caroline said. “That is an unfair name. A puppy can hardly help its exuberant nature.”

  “Yes, well, Stanwyck has a curious sense of humor. Although I believe the dog did eat some rather important documents.”

  “Wouldn’t that be Stanwyck’s fault for leaving the two together unguarded?”

  Wolfolk raised his eyebrow at her.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s true. You have a curious way of looking at matters.”

  “Well, puppies chew. One cannot blame an animal for its nature. That does not seem more curious than defending French food at an English dinner table.”

  “You have cut me to the quick,“ he said, managing to pick up the stick and toss it beyond the hedgerow for Louis to fetch again. “Now perhaps you see why I dislike dinner parties. I am not natural around strangers. Did your charge enjoy the dinner last night?”

  Louis scrambled back to them with the stick, this time with more mud on it if that was possible.

  “I believe she did, although she is still asleep. You should ask her yourself. ”

  Wolfolk picked up the stick as if he was going to throw again, but paused, looking at Caroline intently.

  “Forgive me, but you are unlike any chaperone I have met before,” he said before he flung the stick again.

  “That is not true. I am older than my companion, and I am looking out for her best interests. I think I must be like every young girl’s chaperone.”

  “You are not much older than Miss Featherton. And you do not seem to be overly encouraging of a match.”

  Caroline stopped. Is that what he thought? Did he think she didn’t want them to suit? She had not meant to give that impression.

  “My lord, I do not believe in forcing young people simply because it is an advantageous match,” Caroline said. “And it’s true. I am not her mama.”

  “No, you are not.”

  His tone startled her and she looked at him sharply.

  What exactly was he implying?

  Caroline dropped her eyes and watched Louis gambol back toward them. She was beginning to question what she was doing out here talking to this man. He was paying her an inappropriate compliment and she was unused to the attention.

  He squatted down to pick up the stick again, and gracefully brushed his coattails back so they would not land in fresh mud. Caroline watched him closely out of the corner of her gaze. He had long legs and thick wavy hair. He looked far more comfortable outside than he did inside in a pastel sitting room. But that was true of many noblemen who were more country gentlemen than urban dwellers at heart.

  Nelly was not a country girl, but perhaps their differences would provide the space for a successful marriage. Caroline watched him stand back and hurl the stick again for Louis. Truly, he was a dashing figure out here in the morning mist. Caroline decided Nelly needed to spend more time outdoors with the earl to better appreciate him.

  The last place Wolfolk wanted to be was sitting atop a curricle for all the world to see. But that is exactly where he found himself later that day.

  For a man who did not like attention, driving a curricle in front of a party of guests was not how Wolfolk wanted to spend his time. Still, he sat, perched like a dandy above everyone else, waiting on Miss Featherton’s presence. She was supposed to meet him outside the stables at ten o’clock, and it was already quarter past. Stanwyck, his younger brother, John, and a groom stood nearby examining the new pair, who was clearly nervous in the new contraption. Wolfolk was beginning to feel the same way.

  Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slim female figure coming from the house to the stables. It was about bloody time. He knew it was fashionable in some circles for ladies to keep men waiting, but he hoped Miss Featherton might be a more sensible sort. Perhaps he was wrong.

  Only it was not Miss Featherton, he could see now, but rather her companion, Miss Holland striding toward them. The sun came out from behind a cloud as she did, making her hair shine in the light. He was surprised when he noticed it. Perhaps the country air was beginning to affect him. It had been a long time since he noticed pretty women. Maybe Howsham was getting to him.

  Caroline’s face, however, was worried. “Miss Featherton is nearly ready, my lord. I am sorry for the inconvenience.”

  Stanwyck smiled at Caroline. “Ah, beauty has its own schedule, doesn’t it, Miss Holland?”

  “It’s a fine gig,” Caroline said, stepping forward to pat a nervous horse on the neck. The horse whinnied and danced in place.

  “Miss Holland...” Wolfolk said, hoping she would notice the skittish nature of the horse and step away. He did not want anyone hurt. Least of all himself who was actually attached to the beast.

  But as soon as she put her hand on the horse’s muscular shoulder, it stopped throwing its head and stamping the ground and stood calmly.

  “My lord?” Caroline turned to him.

  He watched her take something from her pocket and feed it to the docile animal under her hand. More importantly, his seat had stopped jerking back and forth.

  “I was going to warn you that the horse is nervous, but he seems to have settled.”

  Caroline continued patting and talking quietly to the beast.

  “You are good with animals,” Stanwyck observed. “I have a herd of large cattle and some hogs who could use your soothing touch.”

  She smiled at that. In the sunlight with the breeze blowing her hair around her face, she looked younger and prettier than he noticed last night.

  “I’m not sure my powers extend to cows, although we did have them growing up. However, I am very good with cats and dogs and most babies of any species.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Stanwyck said wryly. “Miss Holland, you should get up in the gig with Wolfolk. He can drive up to the front of the house and meet Miss Featherton there. Give you a chance to test her out,” he said to Wolfolk.

  “Oh no, I am quite well here on the ground,” she protested. She was not dressed for a drive, even a short one. “Nelly will be here momentarily.”

  Impatiently Stanwyck turned toward the house, but they saw no one was coming yet.

  Wolfolk stood up to help her onto the vehicle, and Stanwyck unfolded the steps. She looked like she was about to protest again when Wolfolk swung down from his seat and took her hand. It was warm even through her gloves. In a moment, he pulled her up as though she weighed nothing. She would have been standing nose-to-nose with him on the gig had he not been so tall. As it was, her forehead hit him in the chin.

  “Oh!” she said, nearly on top of the earl. There was not much room for two people. “Oh,” she said again, trying to get comfortable.

  The horse began dancing again as she sank into the seat and the rig jerked forward and back.

  “This is quite a high perch,” Caroline said as she settled into the narrow seat.

  “Yes,” Wolfolk agreed, sitting down, trying not to notice how her thigh pressed into his in the small seat. Was this really built for two people? It felt very small at the moment.

  Dammit, she smelled nice. Like lemons or maybe sugar water. Something natural and clean. This was not where his mind needed to be going now.

  Stanwyck stepped away from the team. “Give them a try, Wolfolk.”

  “Walk on,” Wolfolk prompted the horses forward. There was a pleasant prickling sensation running up his back to his neck. He hoped she would not notice him blush. He hadn’t felt this stimulated by a woman in more than two years. Not since Eugenia.

  These were not the thoughts he wanted to have as he prepared to drive Miss Featherton through the country. It was a bright, warm day, and a fly buzzed by.

  “Damned insects,” he muttered and swatted it away as heat spread over his torso. Sweat pooled inside his shirt. He should not swear in front of any woman, even a hired companion, he reminded himself.

  Where the hell was Miss Fea
therton?

  The horses pulled them forward. It was a ridiculously light gig. He could feel every bump and crevice the slender wheels covered. He wondered if he should make conversation with Miss Holland. After all, she was the companion of the lady he may court.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t look like any girl’s chaperone he knew. She was slim, her face unlined. Her presence made him feel relaxed and warm, as though he had just drank a glass of port.

  He tried to think of something to say. He knew nothing about her. Frankly, he was out of the habit of socializing with strangers. He used Eugenia’s death to avoid people for the last two years, and his manners showed it.

  “Did you say you grew up in Gloucestershire?” he finally asked rather inelegantly.

  “Yes, my lord. Do you know it?”

  “No, not well.”

  “Oh,” she said, clearing her throat.

  Dammit, he was going to need to do better if he were going to beguile Miss Featherton. A ten-year-old could make more interesting conversation.

  “You were raised here in Yorkshire?” she asked.

  “Yes, although London is now my primary residence. I recently inherited my family home about thirty miles away. But I have not had much chance to stay there yet.”

  “Ah,” she said and he thought she may offer up details about her home residence as one does in polite conversation, but instead she stayed silent.

  “Do you know Yorkshire well?” he asked.

  “Somewhat. I know Miss Featherton is eager to see more of it.”

  Oh, yes. Miss Featherton. That’s who they were talking of. They had arrived at the front of the house, and he slowed the horses, their hooves crunching on the gravel to a gentle stop.

  “Of course she is,” he said. He looked at Caroline again. A silky strand of hair blew in the breeze and caught on her dark eyelashes, and without thinking, he reached to brush it away. Her eyes flew open when he raised his hand, and although she tried to hide it, she flinched a bit. His hand stopped mid-air.

  “I’m sorry. I was going to brush away a piece of your hair.”

  “It’s all right. You startled me.” She looked down at the ground. Just then a figure in a blue bonnet stepped from the large front door.

  Miss Featherton.

  “Ah, Nelly, finally,” Caroline said and stood up to exit. “Good day, my lord. Thank you for the ride.”

  Wolfolk stood to help her down, but she took the hand of the footman on the steps.

  “Good day.” He wanted to say more, to ask her what had caused her to flinch, but she had already stepped down, leaving him alone on his high perch.

  “Oh, what a beautiful carriage!” Miss Featherton squealed as Caroline stepped out of it. Nelly waited for the footman to brush the steps for her.

  Wolfolk watched Caroline disappear past the small group of guests who collected on the steps to view the curricle. Miss Featherton’s white, lace gloved hand reached out to be helped into the gig and he instinctively took it. After she was seated, Wolfolk searched the group for Caroline, but he could not find her.

  “Oh, what fun,” Nelly said in anticipation.

  He meant to say something more to Caroline, but she was gone.

  After another glance at the group, he tapped the reins to start the horses.

  Sweat still beaded on Caroline’s forehead after she came down from the curricle and stepped into the cool shadow of the house. The earl was so tall that she found herself nearly speechless when she was near him.

  Seated next to him, his warm shoulder bounced off of hers repeatedly and she suddenly was aware of the tight cut of his breeches. Why had she noticed his breeches? Perhaps it was the heat. It did something to her mind. She heard somewhere that warm weather could do that. She began to fan herself to cool down.

  He had asked her questions, and she had been at a loss to answer them intelligently. Her body was still buzzing from being so close with his lordship.

  Then Nelly came out, pretty as a bell, of course, and Caroline came down from the curricle. She watched them pull away, still processing her body’s reaction to being close to Wolfolk.

  If that’s how she reacted to glowering earls, she surely needed to get out more.

  For a moment, Wolfolk was glad the gig and hoofbeats were so loud that they could not have a conversation over it.

  But then, Miss Featherton decided to try.

  “Pardon?” He leaned toward her and asked after she had said something. He had heard her but couldn’t make it out what she was saying.

  “It’s lovely….” she said, and again the clattering of wheels overtook her high voice. Blast it, he could guess what she said and simply agree with her or ask her again.

  He leaned toward her. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear”

  “It’s a lovely day for a ride,” she called out.

  “Yes,” he agreed, wondering why one would waste her breath making perfectly obvious statements. That, he noted, was not a particularly charitable thought.

  She was smaller than Miss Holland. And she grasped his arm tightly as soon as she sat down. Wolfolk could not help but notice that his companion was perfumed. Where Miss Holland quietly smelled pleasant, Miss Featherton’s scent nearly announced itself before she did. It was an expensive fragrance, roses and something sweet and heavy—he wasn’t sure, but it smelled like a large beautiful bouquet of flowers. Or perhaps an entire hothouse of gardenias.

  “Is the carriage rocking too much for your comfort?” he said.

  “Pardon?”

  “I said, is the speed too much for your comfort?”

  She laughed and showed her pretty dimples again in the sunlight.

  “I’m sure you can go faster!” She glanced behind them. “If you move quickly, perhaps we can lose our chaperones.”

  Wolfolk glanced behind them and saw that indeed, Stanwyck’s younger brother and Miss Holland followed in a large, slower landau pulled by a draft horse.

  Of course, Miss Featherton had a chaperone. It would be improper for her to go out without one. But it bothered him. He felt trapped and watched, which was ridiculous.

  He turned off on a road that led to a picturesque meadow Wolfolk knew the women would appreciate. He led the team to the top of a hill so they could take shade under large oak trees.

  “We’re not going further?” Miss Featherton pouted as they pulled to a stop.

  “I thought you might enjoy this meadow. It is very scenic. I believe Lady Stanwyck enjoys having picnics here.”

  Nelly glanced around and finally nodded. “It is fetching. If only we had something refreshing to drink.”

  Perhaps he was too old and set in his ways to have a young new wife. Maybe that was the trouble. Wolfolk dismounted and walked around the curricle to help her down. But old men married younger women all the time. It was considered advantageous. And she wasn’t even that much younger. Perhaps a decade. Though she did seem younger, he admitted.

  5

  Lord Stanwyck’s brother, Master John, helped Caroline down from their gig just as she took in the sun-splashed vision of the meadow. It was lovely here. Bees hung lazily around waist-high sunflowers. Yet her heart tugged in a different direction.

  She felt a lump in her stomach, like something she’d eaten had not quite gone down. She recognized it as envy, which she knew was a sign of poor character, as well as a mortal sin. Still, she couldn’t look at the curricle, Nelly’s fine dresses, the rolling acres of green, open land, and even the tall, quiet earl, without feeling the familiar pinch of want.

  Not that Wolfolk was her type. She wasn’t sure she had a type, but the earl was definitely not it.

  She watched the earl, his arms tucked elegantly behind his back as he and Nelly strolled along the edge of the treeline in the shade. He seemed quiet and thoughtful, but then she remembered he had recently come out of mourning. Nelly plucked the petals off a daisy as they walked and conversed. She could not hear their conversation, but they s
eemed to have an easiness and even had moments of laughter. This caused Caroline another sharp stab.

  That could have been her life.

  Had fortune not gone as it had—if her parents hadn’t died young, her brother had not been injured, money not squandered—she may have been the young woman being courted by a lord. She wondered if she would find the lot of them so ridiculous had she not been forced down a level in society. She almost certainly would not have seen their world as trivial as it seemed to her now. Not that there was any point in dwelling on that. She was here to do complete a duty, which was to make sure Nelly behaved and captured the earl’s heart. So far, it seemed to be starting well enough.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Master John had found a stick and used it to parry against a tall sunflower plant. She sighed. Any hope for him keeping her company was lost. Had she really ever been a part of this world? She could scarcely remember.

  She heard the rider before she saw him.

  She, Wolfolk, and Nelly and even Master John turned their heads to follow the beats of horse’s hooves coming down the lane towards them now.

  Caroline tried to divine the rider’s identity from his moving silhouette, but she could not. She wondered if it was Stanwyck riding out to find them or another of the guests, but no, she did not recognize him. The rider’s horse galloped up the way, nearly right up on top of her, causing stones to fly about as it was halted.

  She did not recognize him as one of the party guests, although he was certainly dressed as a gentleman in a fine coat and glossy boots. He seemed awfully happy for someone who had almost run her down. He smiled confidently as he dismounted. He spotted Wolfolk standing in the shade, standing with Nelly.

  “Wolfolk, there you are!” He strode to them.

  Wolfolk peered at him.

  “Sutherland, what the blood—” he quickly changed his word choice mid-sentence— “are you doing here?”

  The strange man smiled at Caroline and Nelly.