Florence’s Stupendous Spinster’s Society
Page 1
Table of Contents
Copyright
Find Out More
Personal word from Charlotte Stone
Dedication
About The Author
Prologue
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Preview of Next Book
READING LIST . Also By
Publishers Notes
Florence’s Stupendous Spinster’s Society
The Spinster’s Society
Charlotte Stone
A Regency Romance Book
Contents
Copyright
Find Out More
Personal word from Charlotte Stone
Dedication
About The Author
Prologue
.
Chapter One
.
Chapter Two
.
Chapter Three
.
Chapter Four
.
Chapter Five
.
Chapter Six
.
Chapter Seven
.
Chapter Eight
.
Chapter Nine
.
Chapter Ten
.
Chapter Eleven
.
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
.
Chapter Twenty-two
.
Chapter Twenty-three
.
Chapter Twenty-four
.
Chapter Twenty-five
.
Chapter Twenty-six
.
Chapter Twenty-seven
.
Chapter Twenty-eight
.
Chapter Twenty-nine
.
Chapter Thirty
.
Chapter Thirty-one
.
Chapter Thirty-two
.
Chapter Thirty-three
.
Preview of Next Book
READING LIST . Also By
Find Out More
Publishers Notes
Copyright © 2017 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,
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DEDICATION
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“A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice
Specially Dedicated to you, my Dear Reader!
It is with a heart of gratitude that I wrote this message of dedication to you.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share with you my writings.
I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!
It is support like yours that keep authors like us going and striving to write even better novels for you!
Have you checked out my other historical romance book series?
Click the link below to get started
*** Amazon US ***
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Got something to share?
I would want to hear from you!
So please do get in touch with me:
https://www.facebook.com/charlottestonebooks
charlottestonebooks@gmail.com
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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In a near cynical world which we are currently living in, Charlotte finds comfort in the readings of Regency Romance writings, one of her favourite would be Laura Kinsale’s Flowers from the storm where the female character loves and saves the male lead character who is a stroke victim. It was such writings which inspired her to be an author herself.
In Charlotte’s writings, the characters are able to see beyond the imperfections of each other and to accept and love one another, just the way one is.
Isn’t this true of our inner self? To be able to find someone who is able to see the beauty in us, in spite of all imperfections we might have.
Isn’t this true of what love really should be? Ever accepting, ever loving, ever seeking.
May you find love and acceptance in Charlotte’s writings.
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PROLOGUE
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June 1813
Gretna Green
Florence Crew averted her eyes and twisted her hands together as the argument before her grew, her own heart twisting with pain at what she was witnessing. When one set to travel to Gretna Green, it was easy to believe that happiness was in store, but that was not so in the current situation.
“Please.”
She dared to peek over, and tears burned her eyes.
“Don’t do this to me.” The pitch of Elipha Thrup’s voice had fallen with her despair. She knelt on the floor, pulling on the coat of the gentleman who stood before her. Her makeup had ruined her usually pretty face an hour ago and her dress, an ivory silk number that F
lorence had pressed just that morning was wrinkled. Only her hair had managed to hold, its ribbons and flowers still in place, holding her extravagant curls. Everything had been done to make the best impression on her groom.
But it appeared the wedding was off.
Florence cringed as Elipha released a long, bone-chilling wail, the sound almost inhuman.
“I’ll be ruined if you back out now,” she cried.
Lord James Rakefield shifted uncomfortably, looking everywhere but at the woman he’d dragged up north to become his wife. He was dressed in a dark suit, his blond hair cleanly cut. Though he was not very handsome, he had a way of holding himself that left a pleasant impression in one’s mind. He straightened. “I’m sorry, but this is not going to work. I thought it would, but I won’t risk exile from my father. As a second son, I need his support to survive.”
Elipha gasped, her eyes widening. “I’ll do anything.”
He frowned, and Florence braced for the words she knew would come next. “I’m sorry.” He knelt and cradled her face. “Elipha, I can’t. You’re… I’m not even sure if the baby is mine, and if it turns out to look like anyone but you or I, my father will cut me off.”
Her ladyship panicked, and her knuckles went white as she pulled on him. “But it could be yours. We were together around the time I conceived.”
“But I was not the only one. We both knew this going in. I thought with your dowry, we would survive, but with your father’s threats, I cannot.” A letter from Lord Nolwell had arrived that morning as though Elipha’s every move had been followed by her father. He’d threatened that there would be no dowry if Lord Rakefield married her, preferring an heir to either a title or vast land for his daughter's hand instead. Someone with means and not a second son.
Lord Rakefield jerked back and stepped out of her hold. “Goodbye, Elipha.” He left and closed the door just before Elipha sent an entire tea tray went sailing across the room.
Elipha screamed and fell into a fit of sobs, her face puffy from frustration and tears. It was an ugly sight, and one Florence had seen before when a man broke Elipha’s heart. Though she wished to comfort her with a hand or hug, she knew better than to try such a thing. Instead, she went to the tray that had been prepared with wine to celebrate the union and poured Elipha a glass.
Her lady looked up at her, and her face crumbled once more before she snatched the glass and drank heavily. When she finished, a deafening hush fell over the room. The sounds of the other boarders in the inn downstairs could be heard from the dining and sitting room. It seemed many had come to Gretna Green at this time to wed or visit family during the holiday of either Twelfth Night or Christmas.
Florence’s heart beat erratically, a slow uneven pace as she watched Elipha’s face calm. Her pale green eyes, made harder by the red that surrounded them, stared outward, though Florence knew she was looking at nothing. Her neck was straight, and her ivory gown fanned out around her. The flames from the fireplace flickered over her still frame.
Elipha blinked before handing Florence the empty glass. “Find a doctor, please.”
“No.” Florence knelt and took Elipha’s hand. “You mustn't do this.”
Elipha snatched her hand away. “You’re my lady’s maid, and you’ll do as I say.”
That was their relationship. Usually Florence understood it and never dared cross that line, but today she dared for the sake of the baby Elipha carried. She’d had such great hope for the child when they’d been informed that Elipha was with child. After the tragedy Elipha had suffered, she’d never been the same. The baby seemed like hope to Florence even though Elipha had thought it the end of the world.
Florence tried to take her hand again. “We can find another way.”
“There is no other way.” Elipha glared and moved her hand away. “I cannot return to London carrying a child.”
“Then we’ll stay here or anywhere else.” Florence pressed her hand to her chest as she pleaded. She didn’t enjoy the thought of being away from her sick mother, but she’d do it if it meant keeping a child alive. “I’ll help you raise the babe. No one need know.”
Elipha laughed and giggled as she stared into Florence’s eyes, the repudiation obvious. “Surely, you know how silly you sound. I’m only eighteen, and I’m the daughter of a marquess. I wasn’t meant to live my life alone. I was the prettiest girl the year of my debut. If Ron hadn’t died…” She looked away into the fire again. “I spent a year in mourning after that, and it was simply one suitor after another until Rakefield asked for my hand.” She sighed and shook her head. “I’ll not return to London with a burden. Go get the doctor. My cousin’s husband has a home not far from here. We’ll take care of everything there.”
Clearly, there would be no convincing her otherwise.
Florence stood and grabbed her bonnet before heading to the door. “I’ll be back with word from the doctor.”
Elipha didn’t acknowledge her as she closed the door.
Florence’s feet were unsteady as her heart broke with the mission she’d been given. Elipha was going to rid herself of the child, and there was nothing Florence could do to change her mind. There had been a time when Florence was sure Elipha would never have gone through with such an act, but Ron’s death had changed everything. Dr. Ron Philips had come to see Elipha when she’d fallen ill and from what Florence had witnessed, it had been love at first sight. Ron had been a young doctor who was training under a well-known physician in London. He’d been a man of his own means, and Elipha’s father, the Marquess of Nolwell, had not approved of the match.
When Ron had died in a carriage accident just a month into the forbidden courtship, many had believed Nolwell had arranged it. The entire incident had made it difficult for Elipha to court in public even after a year of mourning, all fearing Nolwell’s wrath.
So, Elipha had started taking men in secret, and Florence had helped keep her affairs private as was her duty.
But she’d had great hope with Rakefield, who was the second son of a marquess. He’d seemed to genuinely like Elipha, and Florence had bounced with joy when he’d proposed. Tragedy had a way of finding Elipha and for the last three years, Florence had witnessed it all, experiencing a lifetime of woes.
She made her way to the main floor and asked the innkeeper if he knew of a midwife.
“I know every midwife there is in Gretna Green,” the large man said. “Ya wouldn’t believe the number of babes born here.” He smiled warmly.
Florence wished she could join the man in his smile but couldn’t find the strength to do so. “I was looking for one without a faith.”
He lifted a brow and narrowed his eyes. He looked Florence over before lowering his voice. “You don’na have to do this.”
She blinked as emotions clogged her throat. She cleared it in an effort to speak. “But I do.” She knew better than to say she was looking for a woman for her ladyship. To most, it would make no difference if she, a servant, rid herself of a child. Some would even have encouraged her, but obviously, this man was not most. “Where can I go?”
He stared at her as if contemplating his words before saying, “There’s a woman. Her name is Coira.”
He gave her directions to where the woman could be found. She was not far from the inn.
“Thank you.” Florence stared out into the beautiful spring day. She wasn’t sure if it was the historical significance of Gretna Green that made it seem magical, but Florence thought it much too beautiful a day for what Elipha had planned. Overhead, the sky was blue with clouds that seemed to have been spread out with hands, the white forming a sweeping pattern. The grass was green and went on for miles past the white buildings in the village. She watched more than a few couples cling to one another as she walked down the sidewalk, love shining in their eyes as they either headed to the inn or into carriages. Men and women from every class in Europe came to Gretna Green to wed for their own reasons under the authority of anyone they could find in the Scottish
town. Usually, that person was a blacksmith.
She almost forgot why she’d left the inn when she arrived at a small shop at the end of the road. She went inside and saw two women.
One was behind a counter and was much shorter and older than the tall woman who stood in the middle of the room with a broom in hand.
“How can I help ya?” the taller one said. Her expression wasn’t quite welcoming but not off-putting. It was simply guarded. Her eyes were a soft blue and her hair a dark blond. Florence guessed her to be in her early forties.
She walked over to her, her shoes loud against the wooden floor. “I’m looking for the local midwife. Her name is Coira.”
The woman looked her over, staring at her belly before meeting her eyes again. “When are ya due?”