The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  Knowing that Mrs. Beeson did not understand her love for reading, Caroline shot her a quick smile and then paid for her books, thanking the shopkeeper before taking her leave. Mrs. Beeson had come to town to order the meat they would need for Sunday, when Peter came for dinner and Caroline had, of course, gone with her.

  “Is there anything else you need to do?” Caroline asked as they stepped out into the cold autumn air. “Any other places you need to go?”

  Mrs. Beeson shook her head, tugging her cloak a little tighter around her. “No, I don’t think so. We should head back to the tavern. We’ll need to start preparing for tonight.”

  Caroline tried not to sigh, aware that her brother and Lord Brandeis would, most likely come back to the tavern. She had fallen into a fitful sleep last evening, a little more disturbed by Lord Brandeis’ actions than she had wanted to admit, even to herself.

  “It will be good to see Peter again,” Mrs. Beeson said, cheerfully, as they walked. “He seemed to be in decent health and good spirits too!”

  “Made all the more cheerful by the ale and the whisky they ordered,” Caroline replied, rather ruefully. “They said they’d be back this evening.”

  Mrs. Beeson nodded, clearly not perturbed in the least. “Very good. I’m looking forward to seeing Peter again. We have so much to talk about.” She shot a sidelong glance towards Caroline. “And that friend of his, the officer, he’ll be back too?”

  Caroline grimaced. “I think so.”

  “Well, well,” Mrs. Beeson murmured, her breath frosting in the air as they walked. “That is good news. He is a mighty handsome gentleman, I must say. And willing to come to our little tavern!”

  Biting her lip for a moment so that she would not spit out her harsh retort, Caroline tried not to allow her frustrations to show. Mrs. Beeson had not seen or heard Lord Brandeis’ behavior, since she had been busy with other patrons and then tidying up before retiring to bed.

  “I am sure I saw him watching you, Caroline,” Mrs. Beeson continued, jabbing Caroline lightly with her elbow. “Wouldn’t that be a good thing, now?”

  Shaking her head, Caroline let out a long sigh. “No, Mrs. Beeson, it would not be a good thing. Lord Brandeis, I’m afraid, may have the appearance of a gentleman but he certainly does not behave like one. I do not wish to get to know him any better.”

  “But why is that?” Mrs. Beeson protested, sounding quite surprised. “He is a gentleman, isn’t he? Nobility? And it’s clear that he’s more than happy to spend time in your company. Remember, it’s happened before! That young girl from the House for Girls, on the other side of the market, she’s now Lady Radford and maybe richer than the king himself!” She laughed and looped her arm through Caroline’s. “It could easily be the same for you.”

  Caroline shook her head. “I doubt that very much. Mrs. Beeson. The difference with Lady Radford is that Lord Radford fell in love with her when she was working as his governess and that is why they are married. I do not think that Lord Brandeis has any intention of doing anything that noble. His thoughts are headed in merely a physical connection.”

  Mrs. Beeson stopped dead, turning towards Caroline with an astonished look. “Never say he made advances towards you?”

  Shrugging, Caroline tried to bat away the question, not forgetting how afraid she had been last night. “He did attempt something, but I was able to turn away from him as I’ve done before.”

  Mrs. Beeson’s eyes were wide, a faint trace of anger slowly being drawn on her expression.

  “I thought he was a gentleman,” she said slowly, one hand on Caroline’s arm. “My goodness, I didn’t think he’d stoop as low as all that.”

  “Just because he has a title doesn’t mean he’s going to act with any more thought than the other men we get in the tavern,” Caroline replied, with alacrity. “In fact, I’d say that the nobility perhaps have the thought that they should be able to get whatever they wish since they are of higher birth than the rest of us.”

  Mrs. Beeson frowned, her eyes now dark with anger. “That is not what I thought at all, Caroline. The way he kept looking at you told me that he thought you pretty, which, of course, you are, but I never expected that he’d be chasing after you in that way so soon after meeting you.”

  Caroline shrugged, trying to chase away the memory of how quickly she’d reacted to his handsome features. “It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Beeson. He left and that’s all that matters. I’ll make sure to be more careful around him tonight.”

  Slowly, Mrs. Beeson began to walk back down the street, her brow still furrowed. “I’ll make sure to let Martin know to watch him too,” she said, firmly. “Gentleman or not, I won’t have anyone treating you that way.”

  Caroline smiled in appreciation. “Thank you, Mrs. Beeson.” Shooting her friend a slightly narrowed gaze, she linked arms with her again. “Martin seems to be doing awfully well at the tavern. He’s become invaluable.”

  Nodding fervently, Mrs. Beeson smiled. “He has, hasn’t he?” Her expression grew softer, her eyes taking on a faraway look. “I think he’s a decent man.”

  “Very,” Caroline agreed, gently. “Do you think that you might ever consider him, Mrs. Beeson?”

  Startled, Mrs. Beeson looked up at her. “As a husband, you mean?”

  Nodding, Caroline kept her gaze steady. “You like him, don’t you?”

  To her surprise, Mrs. Beeson blushed. “I do, but not like that. Besides, I’m much too old.”

  Caroline snorted. “I doubt that, Mrs. Beeson. You should pursue that if you wish to. That is the kind of man I think I should like to marry. A quiet, ordinary, sensible sort of man from the town, who is quite content with life just as it is.”

  A loud, guffawing laugh came from Mrs. Beeson, echoing down the street and making Caroline jump in surprise.

  “Is that really what you think, Caroline?” Mrs. Beeson laughed, her face lit up with mirth. “You, who loves nothing more than losing yourself in a good story, filled with adventure and excitement? Do you really think that you’d be happy to live just as you are now for the rest of your life?”

  Caroline tried to answer but found that no easy answer came to her lips. Yes, she wanted to say, yes I am sure that I would be more than content with a husband like that and a simple life like I have just now – but for whatever reason, she could not bring herself to say it.

  “You might be fooling even yourself, but you don’t fool me,” Mrs. Beeson laughed, squeezing Caroline’s arm. “I know that, deep down, you want a life much more exciting than the one you have now. You won’t settle for an ordinary townsman as your husband, no matter how much you think you want that. There’s more to you than that, Caroline. You want more than that, I know you do. Your head’s full of dreams and ideas and hopes and thoughts and you’re too afraid to admit, even to yourself, that you want something different than what you’ve got right now.” Her expression softened as she took in Caroline’s astonished expression. “You’re afraid, and I can understand that. You lost your parents and your brother went off to the army, leaving you on your own. This life offered you the stability you were looking for at the time, but things change, Caroline. You change. Life can offer you so much more if only you choose to go after it.”

  Caroline didn’t know what to say. This was not the first time Mrs. Beeson had suggested such a thing, of course, but she had never heard her be so open and so honest with her before. She realized that Mrs. Beeson must see things in her that she herself had no knowledge of. Perhaps she had been convincing herself that life was more than satisfactory for her just as it was, instead of allowing herself to really take a hold of her dreams instead of tossing them aside as nothing more than foolish fantasies.

  “I hope I haven’t upset you.”

  Mrs. Beeson’s voice was tinged with anxiety and, giving herself a quick mental shake, Caroline smiled down at her. “No, not at all. In fact, you’ve given me quite a lot to think about. Thank you, Mrs. Beeson.”

  The lady
smiled gently. “You’re more than welcome, Caroline. I just want the best for you.”

  “I know that,” Caroline replied, gratefully. “You are a dear, dear friend, Mrs. Beeson, and I know that I would not be where I am today without you by my side.” She chuckled. “Lord Brandeis may not be the kind of gentleman I wish to acquaint myself with but you are right, Mrs. Beeson. Perhaps I do need to consider what I want to do with myself. Perhaps I do need to let myself do more than just dream about what I could do. Perhaps, underneath it all, I just need to be brave.”

  Mrs. Beeson’s smile softened. “That’s my girl,” she whispered, pressing Caroline’s hand with all the tenderness a mother might have for her daughter.

  ∞∞∞

  Once back at the tavern, Caroline and Mrs. Beeson set about making sure everything was ready for when they opened. It was an hour or so until then and Caroline knew she would be on her feet from now until the early hours of the morning.

  “Anything I can help you with, Sarah?”

  Startled to hear Martin call Mrs. Beeson by her Christian name, Caroline turned to see Mrs. Beeson blushing crimson, before gesturing towards two chairs that needed to be mended. Martin smiled at her and nodded before moving away, making Caroline smile to herself at the obvious attraction between the two of them. She wanted Mrs. Beeson to be happy and Martin clearly made her happy.

  “By the way, I thought you might like to know that there’s been a few things said about the town about that young man Peter was with,” Martin said, in a loud voice. “It was only from last night’s antics, of course, but apparently Lord Brandeis is well known for being a bit of a rogue.”

  Caroline shot Mrs. Beeson a look and together, they walked towards Martin, their own chores forgotten.

  “Oh?” Caroline asked, sitting down on one of the chairs. “What have you heard?”

  Martin shrugged. “Smithfield Market’s been abuzz with the news that Lord Brandeis was in our part of town. He’s well known among the ton for being a rake but around here, most of the proprietors are glad he’s come to them.”

  “Glad?” Mrs. Beeson repeated. “Why are they glad?”

  Martin chuckled, running one hand through his greying hair. “Most likely because he runs up a large bill here and there, which means extra income for the likes of the brothels and the taverns.” He shrugged. “Did he start a tab here?”

  Her heart growing a little colder, Caroline nodded. “He did. There’s a large amount on it already.”

  A smile split Martin’s face. “You see? This might be a good thing for you, Mrs. Beeson, especially if he comes back to the place. You’re always saying how you could do with a bit extra over the autumn and winter months.”

  Mrs. Beeson did not look particularly pleased, clearly rather worried about Peter’s friendship with Lord Brandeis. “Yes,” she said slowly. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Do you think he’ll be back?” Martin asked, cheerfully. “I thought with him being friends with Peter that he might be.”

  Caroline nodded. “He said last evening that he’d be back tonight.”

  “That’s good news then, isn’t it?” Martin continued, clearly unaware of their concern. “More money for you, Sarah.”

  Mrs. Beeson raised worried eyes to Caroline before turning back to Martin.

  “I want you to make sure you keep a close eye on Lord Brandeis,” she said, firmly. “I know that he might bring in a bit of extra money and I’m not pretending that’s not a good thing, but he’s clearly a rogue, like you’ve said, Martin.”

  A flicker of a frown crossed Martin’s brow and he glanced towards Caroline.

  “You’re not suggesting he’d go near Caroline, are you?” he asked, his tone dark. “I thought, with her being Peter’s sister, that –”

  “He’s already tried,” Caroline said, clearly, not flinching as Martin turned towards her, apparently quite horrified. “Last night. He was very drunk, I should say, and I was easily able to get him out of the place, but I could do with you keeping an eye on him, Martin.”

  “Of course, of course,” Martin said at once, still looking somewhat aghast. “I should have stayed with you last evening, Caroline. I’m sorry I didn’t. I just assumed that because he was friends with your brother, he wouldn’t dream of going near you.”

  Caroline let her lips tip in a wry smile. “I’m sure if Peter had been a little less tipsy then he might have made that very same point to Lord Brandeis, Martin. There’s no harm done but Mrs. Beeson is right. He’s to be watched, just the same as all the others.”

  Martin nodded, his lips thinning. “I certainly will be watching him, gentleman or not,” he growled, darkly. “Don’t you worry about that, Caroline. You’ll be quite safe from him tonight.”

  4

  Sighing to herself, Caroline watched as her brother ordered another whiskey, wondering when they were going to stop drinking and go on home. Four days in a row they had appeared at the tavern, doing nothing but playing cards, drinking ale and then whiskey, which then ultimately turned into nothing more than a bawdy conversation. Very soon, the cards would lay, forgotten, on the table and she would be forced to encourage her brother and his friend to leave the Beeson Arms and go in search of more entertainment elsewhere.

  She did not like seeing Peter in such a state, for this was not the brother she remembered. Of course, Caroline had to admit that she had not been a part of Peter’s life for many years. Being in the army would certainly change a man, but she had not expected the change to be so drastic. He appeared to be nothing more than a wastrel, following in his friend’s footsteps.

  Growing more and more frustrated with him, Caroline sent him an angry glance as he waved at her, before turning her back altogether. She had been filled with hope on seeing her brother returning, imagining them spending evenings together talking and laughing. He would tell her all about life in the army and she would talk about what she had been doing whilst he’d been away. However, as yet none of that had come to pass. Instead, she was doing nothing more than waiting for Sunday to come. Sunday when Peter would not be able to drink and would, finally, come to the tavern on his own, without the scoundrel that was Lord Brandeis with him.

  “Your brother wishes for another whiskey, my good lady.”

  Turning her head, Caroline saw that Lord Brandeis himself was leaning over the counter, his eyes roving over her frame. A flush of heat rushed into her cheeks and she straightened at once, turning towards him.

  “And he will get it soon, once I have seen to these men here,” she said, firmly. “I will not show preference, Lord Brandeis.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “Not even for me?”

  Biting back a harsh retort, Caroline kept her gaze steady and tone measured. “No, Lord Brandeis. Not even for you.”

  “What a shame.” His eyes almost glowed as they lingered on her features, but Caroline felt nothing but distaste. Already she had heard of what he had been up to these last few nights, for he had not been shy in telling all the other men in the tavern exactly what he and Peter had done by way of entertaining themselves. This was, always, of course when he had filled himself up with liquor which then loosened his tongue and took away every bit of restraint that he might have had. Even now, she could see that there were men already pointing and whispering about Lord Brandeis, clearly eager for him to start talking about what he had done last evening.

  And yet, what she’d heard had sickened her.

  “Do hurry up, Caro,” she heard Peter call, her irritation growing steadily. “It’s all to go on Brandeis’ tab though, mind.”

  Lord Brandeis chuckled, his eyes glinting. “The blessings of wealth, Miss Devonshire. Did you know that my father is a marquess?”

  Wondering if this was meant to impress her, Caroline lifted a brow. “Yes, Lord Brandeis. You have mentioned it once or twice.”

  This did not seem to dissuade him, for his smile only broadened further. “As a second son, it does give me a great deal more freedom than
my elder brother, who will take on the title when his time comes. I can do as I wish, you see, with very little responsibility on my shoulders. There is no-one to claim my time or my energy.”

  “And yet you decided to join the army?”

  That brought a flicker of anger to Lord Brandeis expression, his lips flattening. “My father purchased my colors,” he said, tautly. “Something about trying to get me to fall in line.”

  Caroline could not stop herself from rolling her eyes, far too aware of how little that had succeeded. “What a shame that was wasted on you, Lord Brandeis,” she said, pouring a whiskey for Peter and then another for Lord Brandeis himself. “I do hope you are not too much of a disappointment to your father.”

  Where those spiteful words had come from, she could not say. In fact, she had astonished herself in saying them, a cold hand of fear tightening around her heart as she looked up at him, wondering why on earth she had let her tongue loose on him. Was it because he had tried to get her into his arms one too many times? Was it because she hated how Peter reacted to his friendship? Or was it, simply, that she wanted to put him in his place, to take him down a peg and show him that, in her eyes, he was not in any way important?

  Lord Brandeis said nothing for a few moments, his jaw slack as he stared at her. She supposed that very few people had spoken to him in such a way but, much to her surprise, he did not grow angry with her. Instead, he simply shrugged, picked up the whiskeys and nodded his thanks.

  “I think you will find that I have always been a disappointment, Miss Devonshire,” he said as he turned away. “And, in fact, I would say it suits me very well.”

  ∞∞∞

  Finally, Sunday came and Caroline was allowed to have her day of rest. It was a relief to be able to stay in bed for a little longer than usual, to know that she could rise from her bed and not be faced with a mountain of chores. The only thing she had to consider today was the fact that Peter was coming for dinner.