Love or Title
The Colchester Sisters
Charlotte Darcy
Fair Havens Books
Sweet Regency Romance
Charlotte Darcy writes sweet Regency romance that will take you back to a time when life was a little more magical.
Fall in love again,
Copyright © 2019 by Charlotte Darcy
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters, names, etc are a product of the author’s imagination.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Also by Charlotte Darcy
About the Author
Chapter 1
Esme Colchester sat at her dressing table contentedly listening to the chatter of her younger sisters. All three of the young Colchester women were looking forward to the garden party at the home of Lord and Lady Hollerton but for entirely different reasons.
Whilst Jane Colchester hoped for romance and Verity Colchester hoped to see Mrs. Peron to secure an invite to an evening botany lecture, Esme’s wants were a little more serious.
At nearly one-and-twenty, Esme was looking for a husband, and not just any man would do. Esme Colchester had done her reading and knew every little thing a man ought to have in order to be considered a good prospect.
“You look a little serious, Esme,” Jane said as she and their maid tried to weave dried flowers through a struggling Verity’s hair. “Oh Verity! Do sit still.”
“I am not at all serious,” Esme replied reassuringly. “I am very much looking forward to the day. I do so love a garden party, especially when the summer is just beginning.”
“As do I,” Jane continued. “But I still think you look a little serious; after all, parties of any kind are for fun.”
“I suppose my thoughts drift to my prospects now and again,” Esme said with a sigh. “Or lack thereof.”
“How on earth does a beautiful young woman of good breeding lack prospects?” Jane asked incredulously. “There is many a young man in the world who would trip over his own feet to get to you. The problem is, you will not allow them an opportunity. You do not get to know them.”
“What is the point when they are not suitable?” Esme said a little defensively.
Her sister, Jane, was a hopeless romantic who would gladly see Esme married to an impoverished poet as long as she loved him.
“Oh, here we go,” Verity said with an amused laugh in an aside to the maid, Violet, who smiled but wisely remained silent.
Esme sighed; Jane would never understand her need for such stability when the truth was that she hardly understood it herself. But the fact was that Esme had a very determined view of what a good match looked like, and she had yet to find that most elusive thing for herself.
“Oh, Esme, I do wish you would give this up. There are many fine young men out there, they do not need to have everything on your list of wants,” Jane said gently. “What is title and privilege against the more important things; character, kindness, and mostly, love?”
“But I am the eldest daughter, Jane. I really must make a good marriage to give you and Verity the very best advantages. Where one good marriage falls within a family, others are bound to follow. It sets a precedent and it tells society at large that the Colchester family are still very fine. They are still worth marrying.”
“Of course, we are a very fine family, my dear. And as for myself and Verity, you need not worry. Truly, I would much rather see you marry for love than marry for our prospects. You agree with me, do you not, Verity?” Jane asked and took the opportunity to thread another flower through her younger sister’s hair whilst she was suitably diverted by the question.
“I wish you would not even think of such things, Esme. I for one want never to marry, it would not suit me at all. And so, you see, you would do me no favors by marrying a man just because he is everything that society finds acceptable. As far as I can see, he need only be acceptable to you.” Verity, just seventeen-years-old, was extraordinarily intelligent. “Enough flowers, Jane. There will be more flowers in my hair than in Lord and Lady Hollerton’s garden.”
“It is not just for the sake of my sisters, I must admit. There are so many considerations when choosing a husband. And I should so like to find a man who has everything that I have always wished for. Is it really so wrong to want such things? To aspire to a good marriage, even a little title, such fine prospects for my children when I have them?” Esme smiled at her sisters, wondering how it was that three young women brought up so close together could be so very different.
Jane shook her head. “Of course, it is not wrong to want those things. Forgive me, my dear, I should never have made you feel that it was. You know how I am, you know I am a romantic. I am just worried that you would marry a man for all the things that society sees as good instead of questioning your own heart for your own standards of goodness.” Jane gave up with Verity’s hair and dropped the last of the flowers into her sister’s lap before scowling at her. “You really are a dreadful fidget!”
“And you are terribly bossy,” Verity complained. “I did not want flowers in my hair, you did!”
“If I do not marry soon, I will be forced to listen to the pair of you arguing until I am an old maid.” Esme laughed, enjoying the camaraderie which had always existed between them.
Despite there being three, they never split or formed alliances of two. They were as close as it was possible for sisters to be, whatever their differences, and Esme knew that she would miss them dreadfully when the time really did come for her to marry.
“Is there really such a hurry for you to marry?” Verity said sensibly. “Not to escape your sisters, you understand.” She laughed. “I suppose I do not understand the urgency.”
“My age, for one thing,” Esme said.
“But you are still only twenty.” Verity shrugged.
“There are many young ladies married by my age.”
“Yes, but when you have time and exceedingly good parents, you have the opportunity to make a good choice. Papa has never put any pressure on any of us to make the sort of marriage that you are hoping for. But my dear, you speak as if you will be an old maid and living here forever. If anyone is going to do that, it is going to be me. And by choice, I might add,” Verity said vehemently. “Dear Amos, he said that I might stay here with him forever when he finally inherits Papa’s estate.”
“It is true, we are very fortunate in terms of both our parents and our brother. Dear Amos, he would keep all three of us here forever given the opportunity.” Esme smiled. “I wonder if he ever feels left out having three sisters,” she mused, changing the subject for a moment to give herself some respite.
“I think he considers himself to have the best of both worlds.” Jane laughed. “He can be in our company if he wants and claim us to be silly females and make himself scarce without causing too much offense when he wants to be rid of us. But he is a dear, Verity, just as you say.”
“But to get back to the original topic of conversation,” Verity said in a most determined manner. “I think you should be very careful not to rush into anything, Esme. You are very beautiful and very clever, and you need not settle upon any man who is not suitable, even if he is titled and will raise our status a little. For having a title or great wealth does not necessarily ensure that sense, intelligence, or any type of interesting character-filled personality at all comes along with it.”
“In the end I suppose it is all a moot point.” Esme was beginning to wish that the conversation had never begun. “After all, what man of title is going to have a moment’s interest in me?”
“What man of sense would not have an interest in you?” Jane stated with determination.
“What sisters we are!” Esme laughed. “I wish to make a sensible marriage, Jane wishes to make a romantic one, and Verity wishes to avoid the whole subject altogether.”
“At least it is never dull when we three are together,” Verity said. “Now, I suppose we ought to make our way down to the carriage before our parents simply leave without us.”
“Yes, we must go.” Esme rose from her seat at the dressing table and ducked her head to hide the worry that crossed her face. Would she ever find a suitable prospect?
Chapter 2
Lord and Lady Hollerton lived in a very fine and large country mansion in Hertfordshire, just a twenty-minute carriage ride from the Colchester’s estate.
Lord Hollerton, a Baron, was a nice man, one Esme had always liked. He was a little older than her father and always spoke to the Colchester girls as if they were his own daughters. He was, despite being aged, the epitome of a fine society aristocrat. If only she could make her sisters see that it was the roundedness of such men as Lord Hollerton which had helped her to form her own ideas of a fine husband.
Lord Hollerton was a man of title and wealth and his children had been raised with every advantage. And yet, at the same time, they had been raised with humility and were all very fine and well respected, not to mention well-liked. Why could Esme not want the same for herself as Lady Hollerton had found?
As far as Esme was aware, Lady Hollerton had come from the upper echelons of the vast middle class, having been born into circumstances much like her own. The Colchester estate was large and long-lived, having been in the family for generations, was upper middle class, and enjoyed a decent wealth.
The Colchesters were invited just about everywhere, being popular and well-respected. Surely, there was no reason that she could not be as successful as dear Lady Hollerton in the marriage arena?
“Oh, smell the wonderful scented stocks. How clever to have them all around the edges of the lawn.” Verity, a lover of nature, was effusive. “I could stand with my eyes closed breathing this in forever.”
“I think the Hollertons would have some little objection to that in the end.” Elizabeth Colchester, their mother, was a wonderful woman.
Her children meant the world to her and the relationship she had with her daughters was precious. She was a woman of quick wit, much like Verity, and she had a great propensity to gentle teasing.
“I suppose they would.” Verity laughed prettily and took her father’s arm. “It is a beautiful garden for such a party though, is it not?”
“Very beautiful.” Mrs. Colchester agreed. “It reminds me that I ought to take a little more interest in our own.”
“Oh dear,” Esme said humorously. “Remember poor Mr. Perkins’ expression the last time you interfered in the garden, Mama?”
“He is very territorial. But I ought to stand up to him once in a while.” Mrs. Colchester began to laugh before squinting off into the distance.
“What is it, Mama?” Esme asked as she took her mother’s arm.
“A man staring,” Mrs. Colchester said under her breath. “But no matter, he has looked away now.”
“We must not tell Papa that a man was staring at you,” Esme said teasingly.
She looked ahead of her to where her father was standing. Both Verity and Jane had joined him, leaving Esme and her mother trailing behind.
“It was not me he stared at, my dear. His gaze was fixed upon you. So fixed, I might add, that he did not realize immediately that I had seen him.” Mrs. Colchester’s tone was both protective and disapproving.
“Oh? Which man?” Esme asked, suddenly keen to see him.
“Esme, do not look over there,” Mrs. Colchester said, drawing her daughter’s attention. “But if you must see him, he is the man wearing a blue tailcoat with cream breeches. He is very tall and has fair hair.”
“Right,” Esme said and tried to look nonchalant as she let her eyes sweep back in his direction.
She saw him immediately, and he saw her. Her performance of idly looking about her without intent had fallen flat on its face.
Esme, having only a vague impression of the man, tall, fair, and well-dressed, looked hurriedly away.
“Oh, do let us move along,” she said, feeling embarrassed that he had seen her searching for him.
“Indeed.” Her mother turned. “Oh, here comes Lady Longton,” Mrs. Colchester said warmly. “I met her at a charity event last week.”
“Lady Longton?” Esme said, her interest piqued. “Is she not the mother of the Marquis of Longton?”
“She is.” Mrs. Colchester shrugged as if it was nothing. “Good afternoon, Lady Longton,” she said as the woman finally joined them.
“Mrs. Colchester, how nice to see you again. What a pleasing result from the charity drive last week.” Lady Longton seemed like a very nice woman as far as Esme could tell.
There was a warmth about her, an air of approachability, much like that displayed by Lord and Lady Hollerton.
Proof, if more were needed, that people with titles were as pleasant as anybody else. She would remember to tell Jane all about it for it might go some way to soothing that romantic heart of hers.
“We raised such a lot of money for good causes, Lady Longton. It is gratifying to have been so successful,” Mrs. Colchester went on. “I do not believe you have met my eldest daughter.” She turned to smile at Esme with ease and warmth. “This is Esme. And Esme, this is Lady Longton.”
“I am very pleased to meet you, Lady Longton,” Esme said and inclined her head gracefully.
Esme had practiced such things until she ached and knew that she could be introduced to any member of society and behave well.
“How wonderful to meet you at last. Your mother speaks well of you.” She smiled and seemed genuinely pleased to meet Esme. “But then we mothers tend to do that.”
“Indeed.” Mrs. Colchester laughed.
“And here comes my own child,” Lady Longton said as a painfully handsome young man began to make his way to them. “Although he does not allow me to call him that. He is a grown man, even if he will always be my little boy.”
Esme was torn between a deep sense of warmth for dear Lady Longton, and tongue-tying excitement at the prospect of meeting such a perfect-looking man.
The Marquis was truly handsome. He had the darkest hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. And his hair was thick and unruly, making him look pleasingly roguish.
“My dear, how nice.” Lady Longton looked thrilled that her son was to join them. “I must introduce you to Mrs. Colchester and her lovely daughter, Esme.”
“Mrs. Colchester,” he said with a handsome smiled and a gracious bow.
“This is my son, Daniel Winsford, the Marquis of Longton.” Lady Longton introduced her son with such pride that Esme found herself all the more nervous.
“What a pleasure to meet you, My Lord,” Mrs. Colchester, despite the formality of her greeting, was still a picture of ease and poise; Esme hoped that she could find a little of that poise for herself.
“And Miss Colchester, I am charmed to make your acquaintance,” he said and looked into her eyes before bowing again.
“I am pleased to meet you, Lord Longton,” Esme said and felt h
er cheeks brighten with sudden shyness.
“Tell me, do you know my mother through her charitable works?” he asked, aiming the question at both mother and daughter.
“Indeed, Lady Longton and I are recent acquaintances, having met at Lady Denton’s charity drive.” Mrs. Colchester smiled.
“And I have only just made Miss Colchester’s acquaintance, Daniel.” Lady Longton gave Esme a smile of encouragement. “Oh, what a nice afternoon this promises to be.”
“Indeed, it does,” the Marquis said and looked directly at Esme.
Chapter 3
“Oh, my goodness!” Elizabeth Colchester burst into the drawing room in a way which made the occupants jump. “Forgive me.” She went on apologetically. “But we have an invitation from the Marquis of Longton.”
“Oh yes?” Edward Colchester said with a vague sort of enthusiasm. “What is the event, my dear?” He smiled benignly at his wife.
“Afternoon tea. The invitation is for me, you, and Esme. And it is for Wednesday afternoon.” Still standing, Mrs. Colchester waved the thick invitation card this way and that.
“Oh, what on earth am I going to wear?” Esme asked, nerves and excitement swirling around the walls of her chest.
“This is exciting,” Jane said in a breathy manner. “He is very handsome. And he seemed attentive at the garden party, even though Papa would not let the rest of us join you.” She gave her father a mock disappointed look which he seemed to enjoy thoroughly.
Although Daniel and his mother had spent no more than twenty minutes with Esme and her mother, she had been pleased that her father had kept Jane and Verity back. Not that they would have done anything at all to upset things, for she was always pleased to be with her sisters in public. But he had likely seen how fragile she had felt to be introduced to such a fine young man and how further introductions and awkward conversations might have done something to disrupt it.
Love or Title: The Colchester Sisters Page 1
