The Colonels Timely Bride (Timely Bride Book 1)

by Dana R. Lynn

  The Colonel’s Timely Bride

  by Dana R. Lynn

  Published by Clean Reads

  www.cleanreads.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  THE COLONEL’S TIMELY BRIDE

  Copyright © 2015 DANA R. LYNN

  ISBN 9781621354673

  Cover Art Designed by CORA GRAPHICS

  This book is dedicated to my personal hero and our children.

  Love you.

  Chapter One

  Derbyshire, Present Day

  “Mackenzie Lorraine, where do you think you’re going?”

  Kenzie sighed and rolled her eyes. Her escape foiled, she schooled her features into a polite mask and turned to face her mother. Althea James was scowling. Of course. She hardly ever looked at her only daughter with any other expression. As if she were an unruly child, instead of a mature adult of twenty-three. Kenzie couldn’t wait to get back to her own home.

  “I’m sorry, Mom. Did you need me?” A smirk threatened to break across her face. She refused to let it.

  Althea’s scowl deepened. It was a wonder the woman didn’t have more wrinkles.

  “I asked you where you were going.” Althea slammed her fists onto her narrow hips. “I could use your help. There will be a lot of guests here this evening. Remember?”

  As if she could forget. Which is why she needed a few minutes to herself.

  “Relax, Mom. I’ll be here. I’m just going for a ride. See?” She indicated her clothes. She was wearing her non-show riding boots, her favorite faded jeans, a black cami and a red and black checkered flannel shirt. Her mother’s lips tightened. Although Kenzie had been riding competitively since she was nine, her mother had never approved. It was something Kenzie’s father had encouraged. He had died when Kenzie was sixteen, but by then, she had been too old for her mother to steer her interests elsewhere.

  “We are in England for your grandmother’s funeral, and you’re going riding?”

  Uh oh. She was going shrill. That didn’t bode well.

  “Let her go, Mom. You know she can’t stand being cooped up.”

  Kenzie turned grateful eyes to her brother, Morgan. He would soothe her mother. He always did. Without waiting to hear her mother’s response, she made her escape. And all but ran to the stables. She quickly groomed and saddled a grey mare named Beatrice. Within minutes she was galloping away from the house.

  House. As if that monstrosity could be so politely called a house. Kenzie hated the place. Always had. What’s more, she knew her beloved grandmother hadn’t cared for it either, but had felt obligated to remain in the family home. The only nice thing about the place was the stable.

  She slowed the horse to a walk, holding the reins lightly in her right hand. Kenzie had been visiting her grandmother every summer since she was a kid. And her hip gran had kept in touch through email and even social media. Many of her friends had envied the fact the she had a passport and had been to Europe. Kenzie had stopped being impressed by it. As a teenager, there were times she would have preferred to stay in Pennsylvania with her friends. Guilt nagged at her about that.

  She shivered. It was cooler outside than she was used to. It was somewhat ironic that she spent every July fourth in Great Britain. This was the first time she had been here during the spring. So far, she was feeling underwhelmed. Did it ever go more than two days without raining? If so, she had yet to see it happen.

  “Enough!” Her voice burst out in the silence.

  Beatrice twitched her ears.

  “Sorry girl.” She patted the mare’s satiny neck. “Let’s just ride. Too bad there aren’t any rails to jump.”

  Looking around, she spotted a tree laying on its side. Not as high as she usually liked to jump, but who knew how long it had been since Beatrice had been jumped? It would be good to start her off easy. Her grandmother hadn’t been able to ride for years. Why she kept a stable was beyond Kenzie’s understanding.

  Well, she was here now. Might as well give the horse some exercise. As if the animal sensed her intention, she pranced beneath her rider.

  “You want to run, don’t you girl?” Patting the mares glistening neck, Kenzie used her legs to coax the animal into a trot. They circled the felled tree a few times, until Kenzie was confident that the mare was ready. The first pass over the tree was smooth as cream. Kenzie laughed. She had missed this. She circled the tree again. Bea’s hoof came down hard on a large, flat shiny rock. It made an almost metallic ring. Startled, the horse whinnied and backed up. Calming the mare with a gentle pat, Kenzie urged her to keep going. She wasn’t ready to return to the house and face her mother.

  Unfortunately, a storm appeared to be moving in. The air around them hummed with electricity, and lightening sizzled above them. No rain yet. They’d better head back.

  Kenzie cast a longing glance at the tree. One more time couldn’t hurt, could it? After that, she’d meekly return to the house and help her mother prepare for the vultures. Umm, guests. She would do her best to be polite, even though she knew most would be there to gawk at where the reclusive old widow had lived. No doubt hoping to come away with some juicy gossip.

  “What do you say, Beatrice? One more time?”

  Beatrice whinnied. Even the horse agreed.

  With fluid grace, they moved together. She could feel the horse preparing to jump, her muscles bunching. She held her breath as the graceful mare stretched out her legs in a perfect jump.

  A single lightning bolt hit the tree, enveloping them in an electric haze.

  Darkness.

  ****

  She had no clue how long she had been surrounded by darkness. It felt as if she was being smothered by the thick air. And she could no longer feel the strength of Beatrice beneath her. What on earth had happened?

  A scream built up inside her, the pressure immense. But her jaws were locked. Panic started to dance up her spine. Just as she was sure she was going mad, the heavy, smothering sensation lessoned. Her hair, she could feel her long hair stroking her cheeks and neck as a breeze moved it. Mist. She felt a misting rain, and was relieved to feel she could raise her chin to feel the sensation on her face. Closing her eyes, she smiled. Whatever had happened to her, it seemed to be passing.

  A sharp gasp brought her eyes springing open. A young girl sat on a branch directly in front of her. Her dark eyes were wide in an unnaturally pale face. In fact, Kenzie was astonished to note that the girl appeared to be terrified of her.

  “Are you … are you a ghost,” she finally whispered through trembling lips.

  “What?” Was she for real? “Why would you think I was a ghost? No, of course I’m not.”

  Bea pranced nervously. She patted the animal’s neck to comfort her, but kept her attention focused on the teenager. Something about the girl seemed off, but she couldn’t quite place it … Oh! Her clothes. The young girl was wearing a dress, a gown actually. Like she was going to some kind of masquerade. It was a high-waisted gown, yellow, with lace around the neckline and at the wrists. A yellow bonnet was on her head, although she could still see some pale golden hair peeking out from under the brim.

  “You came out of nowhere!” the girl exclaimed. “I
have been sitting here for nigh on half an hour, and without warning, you appeared.”

  Kenzie was uneasy. What the strange girl said was impossible. But looking around, she realized nothing looked familiar. Even the house—

  With an exclamation, Kenzie looked around. Her grandmother’s house, the fence and the stables… they were all gone. Not only were they gone, but the area around them was crowded with large trees. Trees that had obviously stood for a long time.

  “Where am I?” she breathed. “Who are you?”

  The girl stood and gave a graceful curtsy. “My name is Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley.”

  Kenzie nodded. “Nice to meet you, Georgiana. My…”

  She broke off at the stunned expression on Georgiana’s face. “What?”

  “It is impolite to address someone by their first name unless invited to do so.”

  “What is this? The nineteenth century?” Kenzie meant to scoff, but the look in her companions eyes made her stomach hurt.

  “Of course it is.”

  Chapter Two

  London, 1814

  “Richard, have you accepted Lady Anton’s invitation yet?”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam bit back a sigh. He had hoped to avoid this particular conversation. At least for a few days. He had only arrived home last night. Yet here was his mother, standing in the library doorway, invitation clutched tightly in one hand. The look on her face said she would not be put off.

  “I had not planned on attending, madam. I am not in the mood to smile and be charming at a ball.”

  Lady Whitehaven’s thin lips tightened until it looked like she had none. He was in the suds now. If he had an estate of his own, or even a cottage, he could merely remove himself and wait out the storm. As it was, he was a colonel in His Majesty’s army, and had neither the time nor the opportunity to purchase his own home. Or the money. Such was the life of a second son.

  “You must attend,” Lady Whitehaven declared. “Honestly, Richard, how do you expect to find a wife if you avoid balls and social gatherings?”

  “Darcy found a bride, and he avoided balls more than I do.”

  “Darcy found a penniless country girl. You are the son of a peer. You do not have that option.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam flushed, outraged. “Mrs. Darcy is perfect for Darcy. He’s a fortunate man to be able to marry for love.” Fitzwilliam loved his cousin, but part of him envied him. Not just because he had married for love, although that was unusual for a man of Darcy’s wealth and position. No. Fitzwilliam couldn’t help but feel that if he had followed his feelings when he had met Miss Elizabeth Bennet last spring, she might have become his wife. He had known as soon as he had met her that she would make a delightful wife. Quick witted, sharp tongued and beautiful. Plus the singing voice of an angel. Only two things had held him back from courting her. The first was he could see that she and his remote cousin had strong feelings for each other, although he was not certain if they were positive or not. And then there was his fortune. And hers. Both of which were nonexistent. As a second son, his parents had drilled into him the importance of marrying a woman of wealth. So he had let Elizabeth Bennet go. And stood silently while his cousin married her. Darcy and Elizabeth had glowed with joy that day.

  He had never been more miserable.

  And now his noble mother was insulting her.

  Lady Whitehaven scowled at her son. “I’m not criticizing her, Richard. I like Mrs. Darcy. She has done admirably since she married your cousin. And we, of course, want to be supportive.” Her eyes softened. “You do not have your cousin’s options, my dear. You are not the heir. Your brother’s wife may yet produce an heir. But we cannot count on that. I want to be sure that you are taken care of before I die. And your father wants the Whitehaven title to be secure. What better way to do both than to find you a worthy bride?”

  A heavy footfall indicated the entrance of his father. He was moving slowly. His gout must be bothering him. Lady Whitehaven moved back so her husband could proceed her into the room. He patted her arm affectionately as he moved past her.

  “Now, my dear. Don’t fret so. Richard understands his duty. Don’t you son?” His tone was pleasant, but his gaze was steely as it pierced his youngest child. “If he can’t find a suitable wife on his own, we can always make an agreement with my sister, Lady Catherine. Anne is still single. And an heiress with an impressive dowry. I received another letter from her just this morning, demanding we set a date.”

  Fitzwilliam shuddered. The idea of marrying his cousin Anne was abhorrent. He had laughed at Darcy for years while their aunt had tried to force him to marry her only daughter. Now that Darcy was married, though, he found himself the recipient of Lady Catherine’s expectations.

  “Father, you know I can’t marry Anne. The idea is ludicrous. She’s too sickly to make any man a proper wife.”

  Lord Whitehaven waved his protests aside. “No matter. You would be the master of a grand estate. Then, after she leaves you a widower, you can marry someone heartier.”

  Unbelievable. Stomach twisting, he bowed to his parents and stalked out. His parents were snobs. As much as he loved them, he was finding it more difficult to respect them.

  Outside. He needed to get outside. Grabbing his tall hat, he slammed it on his head and headed out towards the stables, nodding to the servant who held the door open for him. Within minutes, his stallion was saddled and he was charging down the road. He had no destination in mind. He just knew he needed to leave the confines of Whitehaven Manor. How could they even suggest he give in to Lady Catherine’s demand that he marry Anne? He would almost prefer Miss Bingley. He thought of the tall auburn haired sister of Darcy’s closest friend, Charles Bingley. Now she had a substantial dowry. And a fine figure. He sighed. She also possessed a superior air and a shrill voice. He recalled Darcy telling him she had pursued him relentlessly for years, her eyes on the Darcy estate, Pemberley. At the wedding, her allegiance had swiftly switched to the colonel. He had no doubts about why. He might not be wealthy himself, but he was the son of an earl. Marrying him would instantly improve her social status.

  No. He needed another option.

  On impulse, he headed towards Darcy’s place. Surely his cousin could provide him with the distraction he needed. Elizabeth would undoubtedly invite him to remain for supper. Which meant he could avoid his parents that much longer.

  It was times like these when he wondered which he feared more— returning to the war or facing his parents and Lady Catherine.

  ****

  Derbyshire

  She was crazy. Stark, raving mad. There could be no other explanation. Why else would she be calmly walking beside this girl dressed like she just stepped out of a regency romance, as if she really believed it was 1814? But she was, leading Bea by her bridle. Her horse, at least, seemed to have no problem with their current situation.

  Kenzie cut her eyes towards her companion. Georgiana, or rather, Miss Darcy, was a lot taller standing than she seemed to be sitting down. Kenzie was no midget at five-six, and Miss Darcy easily matched her height. She looked older than sixteen, too. Although her manner was very shy. Every once in a while a hint of playfulness snuck past her demure manner.

  She seemed to think Kenzie was playing a great game. For the past hour she had been trying to convince the girl that she was from the future.

  "Look! Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Reaching back in her pocket, she pulled out her iPod. Pushing a button, the sound of Adam Levine's voice broke over them. Huh. She hadn't really believed it would work. Miss Darcy backed up, fear once again on her face.

  ”What…what is that noise?” Miss Darcy leaned forward slightly, her lips pursed.

  “Music.” Honestly, what did she think it was?

  Miss Darcy scoffed. “That is not music! I have never heard any instruments that make such loud and raucous sounds.”

  “That’s because they haven’t been invented yet.”

  Again, the young girl b
acked up, fear and caution warring for control.

  "Please don't be scared. I just want to go home." Convincing her to trust Kenzie took another twenty minutes. Finally, the girl seemed to realize she was in earnest.

  "What were you doing when you arrived here?"

  "I was jumping over that tree."

  "Then you will probably go back to your time if you jump it again."

  Made sense. In theory. In practice it didn't work. Kenzie and Bea jumped over the tree repeatedly until it became obvious that it wouldn’t work. Discouraged, Kenzie dismounted and slumped onto the branch.

  "You will have to come home with me until we decide on a course of action."

  Kenzie stared at her. "You can't be serious!"

  “I assure you, Miss James, I am in earnest,” she was saying in her quiet voice. “We must find you some proper attire. And I believe you will need to learn the correct social behaviors expected of a proper lady.”

  Kenzie’s head was swimming. Now that Miss Darcy was convinced, the reality of her situation was settling in. And with it came denial. What if this was just a dream? She had heard of people having odd dreams that they weren’t able to wake up from. Inside her mind she screamed at herself to wake up, wake up! Experimentally, she tapped the back of her hand with the fingers of her left hand. Discreetly of course. She didn’t want to upset the girl striding beside her, even if she was just a figment of her imagination.

  “Won’t your family be worried about you bringing home a stranger?” The thought should’ve occurred to her earlier. She blamed it on her extreme distress at finding herself so far from her grandmother’s house. She knew if she had brought a stranger home, her mother would have thrown the queen of all fits!

  The blonde girl smiled at her, not at all disturbed by the prospect. “My family will not know. My brother and his wife are staying at our London home. By the time they return, you should be more comfortable with society rules.”

  Kenzie squinted at her, slightly shocked. “You mean they left you here alone? And why are you out and about without a chaperone?” She’d read enough regency romances to know that young girls did not ramble about unescorted.