Natalia’s Secret Spinster's Society
The Spinster’s Society
A Regency Romance Book
Charlotte Stone
Contents
Copyright
Personal word from Charlotte Stone
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Part 1.1
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Chapter One
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Chapter Two
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Four
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
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Chapter Nine
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Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
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Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
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Chapter Fifteen
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Chapter Sixteen
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Chapter Seventeen
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Chapter Eighteen
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Chapter Nineteen
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Chapter Twenty
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Chapter Twenty-one
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Chapter Twenty-two
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Chapter Twenty-three
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Chapter Twenty-four
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Chapter Twenty-five
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Chapter Twenty-six
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Chapter Twenty-seven
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Chapter Twenty-eight
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Chapter Twenty-nine
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Chapter Thirty
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Chapter Thirty-one
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Chapter Thirty-two
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Chapter Thirty-three
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Chapter Thirty-four
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Chapter Thirty-five
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Epilogue
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Part 1.2
Chapter One
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Chapter Two
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Chapter Three
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Chapter Four
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Chapter Five
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Chapter Six
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Chapter Seven
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Chapter Eight
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Chapter Nine
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Chapter Ten
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Chapter Eleven
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Chapter Twelve
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Chapter Thirteen
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Chapter Fourteen
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Chapter Fifteen
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Chapter Sixteen
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Chapter Seventeen
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Epilogue
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Preview of Next Book
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Publishers Notes
Copyright © 2018 by
Charlotte Stone
All Rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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PERSONAL WORD
FROM CHARLOTTE STONE
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Dear lovely readers,
The characters of my writings are women who have a strong mind of their own, women who know what they want to pursue in life. It is their tenacity to finding true love that drives them to overcome the challenges which they may face while waiting for the man of their dreams.
Will such tenacity of their believing bring them true love in spite of the societal-standing challenges one will face in an era such as that of Regency.
Read on to find out the answers!
Thank you once again for your strong support in my writing journey!
Much Love,
Have you checked out my other historical romance book series?
Click the link below to get started
*** Amazon US ***
* * *
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- THE SPINSTER’S SOCIETY SERIES -
Natalia’s Secret Spinster's Society
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PROLOGUE
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“Liam, put me down! You’re hurting me!”
Fourteen-year-old William Tift released her at once and Natalia Hext stepped away before straightening her dress. Settled, she righted her curls, tossing them behind her back before glaring at him. “You were holding me too tight, William.” Her sides still ached from where his fingers had dug into her. She was sure to have bruises before night came.
William held her eyes without the faintest hint of remorse in his green depths. “You wanted to fly. I had to hold you tight or else you’d have fallen.” A sudden wind picked up, blowing the tall wheat that stood around them and the tops of the trees in the distance.
Natalia’s seven-year-old thoughts moved to riding on that wind, becoming one of the birds that flew into the sunset.
William’s black hair danced in the breeze across his forehead and jaw. His skin was dark, a gold so deep it was clear he was not purely English. For her, the only English thing about him was his name. William. It was strong, though she preferred to call him ‘Liam.’
“Would you rather I had let you slip?” he asked.
Tears burned her eyes, but she wiped them away before they could become visible. “When Julius lifts me, it doesn’t hurt.” Though her cousin Julius rarely wanted to play with her, and she admitted that was her fault. She was cruel to him and his friends, even when she didn’t mean to be. She didn’t even know why she did it, but she couldn’t help it. She was even mean to William, yet he still played with her.
“I’m not Julius, Tally,” William said defensively. His hands, which always seemed larger than the other boys’, were balled at his sides. For a boy so thin, he was strong.
She looked away when the tears wouldn’t stop falling. A few drops landed on her shoes. “I know you’re not Julius.” She sniffed and wiped her face again, startled when William grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back around.
“Why are you crying?” he asked in what sounded like another accusation.
She yanked away from him. “You’re hurting me again!”
He looked down at his hands then, spreading them wide before letting them fall. “I’m sorry.”
“Vagabond,” she whispered and sniffed.
“Stop calling me that,” he growled.
She stiffened at his anger.
He looked up, and his eyes softened. “Why are you crying?”
She shook her head.
He moved closer. “Did I really hurt you?”
“No.” He had hurt her, but even she knew that wasn’t the reason for her tears. The warm wind picked up again and whistled in the silence of the dying afternoon that painted
her world in reds and oranges. The straw swayed and slid across her arms. She batted it away.
“Is it your mother?” William whispered.
She pulled in a deep breath, but that only caused a tightening in her chest. “She’s crying again.” Lady Romina always cried when Lord August, Natalia’s father, would leave to visit Julius’ mother, Lady Edwina. “Why does my father go to see Aunt Edwina?”
William placed a hand on her shoulder again. Gently this time. “That’s not for you to worry about.” He gathered her in his arms. His shirt smelled of lemon and grass.
“Sometimes,” she said, with her cheek against his chest, “I wish I could leave.” Would anyone miss her? Would her brother Lorenzo miss her? He always abandoned her whenever Julius and his friends came to the country. Her mother and father wouldn’t realize she was gone. She was sure of it.
“Where would you go?” William asked.
She leaned away and looked up at him. “Why? Would you take me?”
He smiled. “Perhaps. I am, after all, a vagabond.”
She laughed. He was her vagabond. He had no title like most of Julius’ friends, but she didn’t care. “Make me fly. Take me from here, Liam.”
His hands settled on her hips. “Of course, my queen,” he said, using the name he’d given her. Sometimes, he meant it to be mean, but not today.
Today, he made her fly.
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CHAPTER ONE
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March 1816
Oxford, England
The heat pouring out of the foundry, beat back the cold wind whispering up underneath Leah Wells’ thin skirts. The furnaces inside blazed with the scent of melted iron, and shouts from the workers filled the night.
Leah kept her feet moving as she waited, standing away from the beggars who stood on the other side the back door in hopes of gathering the free warmth for the night.
Months ago, that could have been her standing in the huddle of discarded wood that one of the foundrymen had been generous enough to give to the displaced souls. Had it not been for her family, she’d have been lost. Though it was also her family who’d destroyed whatever beautiful future she might have had in the first place.
Now, she was hardly any better than the eyes that glanced her way, the fire dancing light across their stained hollow faces. While her clothing was in better condition than the men and women who spoke in hushed tones to one another, she did not wear the newest fashions. Leah had done well to keep her dresses intact, stitching and mending wherever they began to fall apart, knowing it would be months before she could afford another garment of any sort.
That was the price of blackmail.
She closed her eyes and tried to listen past the murmur of conversation across from her and beyond the chill winds to focus her mind on the men inside.
Tonight, she would meet the scoundrel who’d been causing her family trouble since before she’d been aware of it, too young to ask the right questions.
Laughter rang out. It had the distinct air of men of means, baritone notes with a deeply cultured dialect. She pressed herself against the wall and watched the men in fine suits and winter coats leave the foundry, never once glancing in her direction or that of the beggars.
They were the foundry’s investors, but Leah only needed to follow one of them.
Lord Reinburg. He was the one who had the connection to Leah’s blackmailer.
The men all stepped into a carriage, and Leah moved with her face averted and grabbed a hack. Using some of her precious coin, she asked the driver to follow the hack then pressed her face to the window as the vehicle conveyed her down High Street.
A moment later, she was surprised when it stopped before the city’s observatory. It was late for anyone to be out, but it made sense that the observatory would be open. After all, one got the best views of the sky at night. A few other carriages were about tonight, and she wondered at the event taking place inside.
She made sure to keep her distance from the men and slipped into the building through the servants’ entrance. In the last year, she’d grown very good at sneaking around and donning one disguise after another. If anyone guessed who Leah truly was, the granddaughter of a march owner, which was the borderlands given to a marquess, it could mean her death.
Yet she’d risked returning from France to England because she’d known it was up to her to set the past to rights.
Or as right as she could make it.
The observatory was built like a thick column, a circular structure with a dome that could hold hundreds. Inside were three floors—the main foyer, the science library, and then the observation floor.
Leah left her frock in a closet and moved to the second floor. Once there, she straightened her posture, so she could easily flow amongst the ladies and wealthy women who were present. If no one stared too hard at her dress, they’d never notice that it had seen better days.
She met no eyes and offered no smiles as she moved through the room. She touched her pale brown wig to ensure it was in place and then moved around the tables, chairs, and bookshelves until she saw Lord Reinburg. He and his companions were moving toward the third floor, climbing the curving marble staircase. She followed.
“Excuse me,” a male voice called from behind her. “Have we met before?”
Leah slowly turned and found an attractive young man she was sure she’d never met. He was a student. She could tell just by gazing at him and guessed his age to be… twenty? She was twenty-six, but life’s blows had aged her mind far beyond that.
She put on a smile and decided to speak to the man in her mother’s native tongue. While many of the English were proficient in France and Latin, not many studied Spanish.
The man seemed confused, a look that only emphasized how handsome he was, and she knew he was searching for words in Spanish that were similar to either French or English. His brown eyes roamed over her before returning to her face. “You’re very beautiful.”
She blinked and pretended not to understand. Then she gave her apologies and tried to move away.
He caught her hand and turned her toward him once more. His muddled gaze said he was drunk. “Won’t you join me for the evening?”
She laughed because she couldn’t help it. She knew very well what he was asking of her. Thanks to her father, she was English, more English than anything else, if one considered her paternal grandfather had been the Marquess of Darvess, yet after spending years on the Continent, she’d learned that men of a certain means were the same, no matter where she went. Persistent was a mild word where they were concerned. How many times had she witnessed one man after another attempt to use her mother? But Romina’s religious upbringing would not allow her to sell her body. Not even for wealth or power. “No, thank you. Have a good evening.”
Her sudden mastery of their common language startled him enough to allow her to rush from his side and blend into the crowd once more. She moved quickly up the stairs, pressed through the heavy doors at the top, and stepped into the darkness of the observation room. There, she knew she’d be safe from prying eyes, just as she knew the blackguard who’d been blackmailing her thought the same.
Lord Reinburg was easy to find. He stood in the corner of the room by a lamp, and though the flame was very low, as to not obscure the view of the sky, it was enough. She was surprised to see that he was alone. She couldn’t see the other two men he’d come in with, but they didn’t matter. Only the man who stood a few paces away did.
She looked around the room for a moment to see if she recognized anyone from her past. It wasn’t likely she would, however. It had been eighteen years since she’d left. She’d been eight at the time and on a completely different path in life. She’d been a daughter of the wealthy and friends with those who would one day hold powerful titles.
Now? She was
little more than a servant in the midst of these men and women.
So, she was sure that no one would recognize her and, after so many years, she probably would not have known an old friend if they walked right in front of her.
Her gaze returned to Reinburg.
Natalia’s Secret Spinster’s Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book) Page 1
