Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  Mary grunted and hustled her daughter out of the pew. A few ladies still inside the church nodded at Mary as they went past, exchanging a few greetings with them while Anne stood back and watched. Mary was a lovable member of the community, and she knew everyone. She was also lovely to look at, even at forty-seven. Petite and pleasantly plump, her dark hair was showing strands of white. There were slight lines around her eyes, but her face was clear of the wrinkles Anne was used to seeing in older women. Anne's mother was eloquent, sweet and kind; someone any man would want as his wife.

  John Barclay had been the lucky one. Anne knew she should be grateful that her parents were loving people and had raised her in the right way. But lately, she had wished she wasn't under their roof. Now she was three-and-twenty, and too old for a good marriage. Her early Seasons had come and gone, and nobody had asked about her beyond wanting to know her as a friend. She was now on the shelf, and Anne knew it.

  It hurt knowing she was considered a spinster and still living with her parents when she should be married with at least two children by now.

  Anne wished that would change.

  Her father was out in the church yard, talking to a tall, thin young man with pale brown hair and wearing a black cassock. John Barclay's dark hair was now receding and show baldness at the crown. He was also thickening out round his middle. But he still had his broad smile, his twinkling eyes, and his easy-going nature. Anne couldn't think of a more handsome man than her father.

  No one had come along to take his title as far as she was concerned.

  John turned and saw his wife and daughter approaching them. He beamed and beckoned them over.

  "There you are, dear. I was wondering where you'd gone." He turned back to the man in the cassock. "Ian, you remember my wife and daughter, don't you?"

  "Of course." Curate Ian Hulbridge bowed at Mary with a small but genuine smile. "It's lovely to see you again." Then he turned to Anne, and his smile broadened. "And this is Annie? My, you're growing up."

  Anne rolled her eyes, not caring she was impolite.

  "You said that last week, Mr. Hulbridge."

  "My apologies." Hulbridge didn't seem to mind her attitude. "I'm so busy lately I forget what I'm sometimes saying. I was asking your father if he would like to come to dinner with me."

  "Really?" Mary linked her arm with John's. "Isn't it a little small in your house for a dinner party?"

  "Not at my place. I'm having dinner at Erstmere Estate tonight. My cousin is visiting Lord Curley, and I haven't seen him in a while. Lord Curley suggested that I come along and bring a few friends to fill up the seats around the table." He looked from Mary to John. "So, would you and your family like to join us tonight?"

  "We'd be delighted to," John answered.

  "Of course." Mary smiled sweetly. "I love going to dinner parties."

  Anne didn't. After not finding herself a husband in London, dinner parties got exceedingly boring. She didn't want to get involved with polite conversation; she made it clear she didn't want to be there. After a while, the invitations to visit had stopped. It had caused Mary some vexation, but Anne didn't care. With no reason to go, she didn't want to be there.

  She knew her parents would be disappointed if she refused, however, and Anne liked Lord Curley. Charles was a few years older and always had the time to stop and talk to her. Maybe she could have fun this time.

  "Great." Hulbridge beamed. "I'll see you this evening. Dinner is at seven-thirty so if you're there by six-thirty that will be fine."

  "We'll be there." John looked curious. "What's your cousin like? Is he in the church like you?"

  Hulbridge laughed.

  "Not likely. He's a duke, so he's a very busy man. And a good one. He'll be as entertaining as Lord Curley."

  Almost immediately Anne could see the thoughts going round in her mother's head. While she was known and loved by the townspeople, she was also a huge gossip and made sure she knew everyone's business. Anne didn't like to pry, but Mary loved to be the bearer of news. This would be like diamonds to her.

  "A duke?" Mary had the art of sounding curious down perfectly. "My goodness, your family has upward connections in the world."

  "William and I grew up as children. We were almost like brothers. I never saw the divide with our family's wealth." Hulbridge bowed. "I'll see you tonight, Mrs. Barclay."

  Anne wondered how long it would be before her mother made assumptions about Hulbridge's sudden mention of a cousin. She had a feeling she wouldn't need to wait long.

  ***

  She was right. They were on the path back to their cottage when Mary started talking about it.

  "Do you know, John dear, I never expected Mr. Hulbridge to have a cousin who was a duke?"

  John shrugged. It was clear Anne's father didn't care much for gossip. But he loved his wife and tolerated it. He had put up with it for twenty-five years and was used to her eccentricities and nosiness.

  Anne trailed behind, pretending to be looking at the scenery, but her ears were straining towards her parents' conversation.

  "Maybe that side of the family is wealthier. It does happen."

  "Or maybe something happened to Mr. Hulbridge's family that meant he's now a curate," Mary said.

  "His family has always been well-off. You know it's tradition for the second-born to go into the church."

  "Are you sure about that? I had spoken to Mrs. Boatman before we left. She knows Mr. Hulbridge's cousin." Mary's voice started picking up, the way it always did when she was excited. "Her sister works as his housekeeper. William Hartfield is his name. Young man, just into his thirties, ; very polite and charming, and he only lives in the next county. It's barely a three-hour coach ride from here."

  John stopped and turned to her. Anne also stopped, keeping her distance and pretending to look at the flowers in the hedge.

  "What are you saying, Mary?" John asked.

  "I wonder why he's never visited before." Anne glanced over and saw the curious expression on her mother's face. Anne could tell that she was thinking up a storm in her head. "Mr. Hulbridge said his cousin was like a brother to him. If they were close, surely we would've seen him before."

  "Love, they're adults now. They've got their own lives to run. It's a lot different from children's lives; often they don't stay in each other's company like they used to."

  "Still, there is that question why he's not been here before." Mary's eyes widened. "What did Ian Hulbridge do?"

  Anne rolled her eyes. Her mother was taking this out of proportion. John sighed, sounding like he was trying to be patient.

  "You're looking for a scandal where there isn't one, Mary." He said firmly. "Stop this now."

  Anne bit back a smile as Mary pouted and turned her nose up at her husband but didn't pull her arm away as they walked again. Only her husband could put Mary Barclay in her place.

  Anne plucked a flower from the hedge and tucked it behind her ear. Then she hurried to catch up with them.

  Chapter 2

  An Act of Folly

  Susan Smith came out into the garden, her hands full with the tea tray. Anne stood and hurried to her, but Susan shook her head.

  "Don't fret, Anne. I can manage."

  "But there's a lot!"

  "I know, but I've been doing this a while, remember? Sit."

  Anne did as she was told, watching as her friend put the tray on the table and poured the tea. Her slim fingers looked almost as pale as the bone china teapot. Anne wondered if Susan had gotten any sun recently.

  Susan stirred in two sugars to both cups and handed one to Anne before taking a seat, smoothing her skirts down. Anne sipped her tea and took a closer look at the other woman's face. She was looking paler than normal; it was clear she hadn't been outside for a while.

  "Are you still not interested in coming to church?" She asked, putting her cup back on its saucer.

  Susan shrugged half-heartedly.

  "Not really. I don't think I could stand the att
ention."

  "It's been over a year since that incident. The talk would've died down by now."

  Fifteen months before Susan had caught her husband Michael in a clinch with another woman. What made it worse for her was that the other woman was her sister, Sharon. Michael and Sharon had been chased out of the village by Susan and Sharon's father and a few angry family members. Their carriage had overturned after losing a wheel, and both had been killed instantly. Anne had heard people whispering for a while afterward about the scandal and that Susan had virtually pushed her husband into her sister's arms. She had stuck up for her friend on those occasions, but it didn't suppress the gossip that spread throughout the villagers.

  Susan had retreated into her home for her mourning, refusing to step foot outside the gate. Other than her parents, Anne was the only one who visited her regularly. She could tell Susan was grateful for that, but she wouldn't admit it out loud.

  Susan grunted and looked down at her hands in her lap.

  "Not this place. You know your mother is the biggest gossip in the village. Nothing would get past her. She would bring it back up again."

  "I suppose you're right." Anne sighed. "But I'm getting bored at church. It would be good to have a friend there."

  Susan chuckled. She was an attractive woman, but that was accentuated by her laugh, which lightened up her face and brought a twinkle in her eye. It was what had drawn her husband to her in the first place.

  "You, getting bored?"

  "Well, I'm three-and-twenty, single and classed as a spinster." Anne didn't like moaning about her lack of suitors, but she always confided in Susan; she was less likely to ask around for a potential husband. That would be embarrassing. "That makes you lose faith in God after you've been praying every night that the man I'm going to marry will cross my path very soon."

  "And then when he does he gives you a frog and not a prince," Susan added.

  "Exactly."

  Mary had tried to pull men in from even the next county to court Anne, but Anne had sent them all away. Those she entertained didn't bring any spark. There was nothing there. And a lot of them were put off by her demeanor. She kept to society's rules about how a woman should be as much as possible. There had been times, however, when she would voice her opinion whenever a man tried to make her look small if she spoke out of turn. She had no reservations about challenging a man if she felt she needed to.

  It did tend to make men run the other way.

  Susan sipped her tea.

  "What are you up to this evening? I thought we would have dinner tonight."

  "That's why I've come now. Ian's having dinner with Charles at the estate. He says William Hartfield, the Duke of Cheswick, is a cousin of his and will be there as Lord Curley's guest. Charles asked if Ian could fill up the other seats with a few of his friends."

  Susan lowered her cup.

  "William Hartfield?" She blinked in surprise. "I didn't think Charles knew him. And I'm surprised he's Ian's cousin."

  While Charles Curley was a wild one, he was a nice enough man. Susan and Anne had played with him as children, and they viewed him as an older brother. He was a personable young man and didn't stray far. London was the farthest he had ever gone, as far as Anne was aware.

  She sat up.

  "Do you know Lord Cheswick?"

  "Not personally, thank God." Susan glanced up at the sky briefly before she looked back as Anne. "But I know of his father, Robert. Not the best people. Everyone was scared of him or in awe of him."

  Anne wasn't sure how to take that.

  "How long is it since he passed?"

  "About eighteen months, I think. His son came home from traveling the continent six months later."

  "What did he do to make everyone have mixed opinions of him?"

  "Father or son?"

  Anne rolled her eyes.

  "The father. You said you knew of him."

  "Only through Michael. His sister- and brother-in-law frequented the former Lord Cheswick's house with his parties." Susan frowned in disdain. "He was a drinker, and he slapped people about if anyone said no. He drank too much, he gambled, and he was widely known as a rake."

  Anne was glad she was sitting down. She was sure she would've fallen over.

  "What?"

  "He didn't shout it out to the county, but everyone knew. It was widely known he treated his servants badly and made untoward advances towards several maids." Susan arched an eyebrow. "If he's anything like his father, you will be at an interesting dinner party."

  Anne didn't know about that. She wanted to stay at home as she normally did, but her parents had told her she needed to get out and have fun. While Anne would like to spend time with Charles, she wasn't so keen on spending it with everyone else, especially her parents. Having to go places where they were, did get irritating after a while, especially when she was of age and should be allowed to do things on her own.

  "I don't think I have anything to worry about there." Anne laid her hands flat on her thighs. "I'm not a servant."

  "But you're pretty." Susan pointed out. "And you know you are."

  "Come off it, Susan, men are put off as soon as I open my mouth."

  "That will probably attract him more." Susan sipped her tea, looking at Anne over the rim of the cup with a sly look. "Don't be surprised if he turns his attentions on you."

  "Charming," Anne grunted.

  But she couldn't help thinking, could she find a man who didn't care that she spoke her mind? It would be a far-reached feat if she could.

  However, she didn't believe it beyond that split second. While Susan may have the charm to attract a husband, albeit not for long, Anne did not. She had her looks, which would fade in time. And no one wanted to marry a woman who talked back.

  ***

  Anne got back home after her parents had left for Erstmere Estate. They were people who liked to get to a party embarrassingly early, as if they expected to miss something if they arrived half a minute late. Anne preferred a slightly more relaxed approach.

  Besides, she knew Charles wouldn't mind if she were late; he wouldn't start without her.

  Once she was dressed and her hair was in place and makeup delicately applied, Anne decided she would walk to the big house. It was only three miles, and she was happy to do it. The walk was a pleasant one, and it wasn't over rough terrain. While it had been raining, it wasn't muddy; she wouldn't get her dress ruined.

  It was getting dark when Anne finally arrived at Erstmere Estate. Charles' butler let her in and took her cloak. Anne glanced at the big clock in the hall and saw it was quarter-past seven. Fifteen minutes until dinner.

  Late for visiting, but Anne didn't like small talk before dinner.

  Charles Curley came into the hall as Anne thanked the butler and hurried towards the library. His big frame towered over Anne, his pale brown hair growing out and brushing against his collar. Anne liked him with longer hair; he looked more like the confirmed bachelor. A man who didn't care what others thought of him.

  She hurried to him with her hands out.

  "I'm sorry I'm late, Charles."

  "No problem, Anne. We haven't started yet." Charles took her hands and kissed the knuckles, giving her a wide grin. "You're looking lovely as always."

  Anne rolled her eyes.

  "Flatterer."

  Charles frowned.

  "When are you ever going to take a compliment?"

  "If I'm looking lovely, why am I still without a husband?"

  "Search me." Charles dramatically pretended to clasp at his heart. "If my poor, beating heart wasn't already taken, I would've happily married you. But alas..."

  Anne laughed. She knew perfectly well that Charles wasn't interested in marrying anyone; he was happy being single. His family was pestering him to have children, but Charles was taking everything in stride and said there was plenty of time for children.

  She linked her arm with his and gave his arm a squeeze.

  "Thank you for making
me feel better."

  "My pleasure."

  Chapter 3

  Starting Off On The Wrong Foot

  The rest of the guests were in the library. John and Hulbridge were standing by the fire, each with a glass in their hand. Mary was sitting on the settee, back straight and hands folded in her lap. She looked like a doll sat there, almost frozen.

  She was the first one to see her daughter as Anne and Charles entered, and she stood up with a horrified gasp.

  "Goodness, Anne! Where have you been? You look like you went swimming."

  Anne knew the hem of her dress was a little damp, but nothing else was out of place. Not unless you counted the flushed cheeks from the brisk walking. She sighed.

  "Don't be silly, Mother. It's just from wet grass. I walked across the fields."

  "You did what?"

  Mary looked like she was about to faint. She sat down heavily. Anne left Charles' side and approached her mother.

  "Calm down, Mother. You're making it out like I committed a scandal. It was just a walk."

  Her father was frowning.

  "We would've waited for you if we'd known you would be walking. And I'm sure Lord Curley would've fetched his carriage for you."

  Glancing at Charles, Anne knew he wouldn't have cared if she walked or came by horse and cart. She shook her head at her parents' reaction to her choice of transportation.

  "Oh, come on. It was just a walk."

  "But it's three miles!" Mary shrieked.

  "And? It was a good walk. I feel better for it." Anne winced as she rolled an ankle. "Although my legs will probably say otherwise tomorrow."

  "You should've thought about that before you walked that far in an evening dress."

  The new voice, deep and male, came from the library door. Anne turned and stared. Brushing six feet, red-brown hair cut short, and a body built purely from muscle, the newcomer seemed to dominate the room. His hazel eyes grabbed hold of Anne and held her gaze unblinkingly. Anne found that she couldn't look away; there was something about him that was grabbing hold of her and pulling her in.

  She shook herself. Now was not the time to be staring at a stranger. She smoothed her hands down her dress, aware that her hands were trembling.