The Earl's Reluctant Bride: A Sweet Regency Romance (Brides of Somerset Book 1)

by Karen Lynne

  “Very good. This way, my lord. We have various colours of card-stock and fonts. You may look through our stock book at your leisure.”

  James settled in a side nook and thumbed through the samples. The bell jingled as he heard a swish of skirts.

  “That was close. The parasol did come in handy after all.” The girls giggled.

  “Miss Phelips, Miss Hamilton, it is a nice day.” The shop owner greeted.

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Edwards, It is lovely day especially after all the rain,” One of the girls answered.

  “How can I be of service today?” Mr. Edward inquired.

  James was curious as he listened to the conversation. Was that his Miss Hamilton? He leaned forward just a bit so he could see around the book-shelf. The lady talking to Mr. Edwards smiled, her pretty blonde curls falling from her bonnet and framing a pleasant face.

  Miss Hamilton was looking out the window as if watching for someone. Her straw bonnet hiding her face, she twirled the parasol at her side as if readying for defense. Her silhouette met with his approval. The peach and green of her dress highlighted her hair peeking from her bonnet. Something about her drew him.

  “Yes, Mr. Edwards, I need more of my favorite stationary. You know the ones I like,” the pretty blonde replied. “I need some envelopes as well.”

  “This way, Miss Phelips, I have some new styles you may like.” She followed Mr. Edwards over to the counter where he brought out some nice papers for her to examine.

  “Susan, come look at these, and help me choose. I love the ivory with the soft roses in the corner.” Susan turned from the window and went over to stand beside her friend. They discussed the stationary choices together.

  It was her. Why that gave him satisfaction, he didn't know. He went back to his task and contemplated his choices. He preferred simple elegance rather than flashiness as the younger set seemed to enjoy. He thought of his Cousin Devon and how his dress seemed to be loud and conspicuous as though he were trying to compensate for something.

  Mr. Edwards was finishing up with the ladies when more customers entered. He heard the whispers as the ladies made their exit.

  “Abby, you check and see if Mr. Caldwell has gone. I don't want to run into him.”

  He heard the door open and the bell jingle. “He is gone. Susan. It is safe to leave. Aunt Lucy will be waiting, I'm sure.”

  With that, they were gone. So, she was avoiding a Mr. Caldwell, interesting.

  Mr. Edward appeared. “Have you decided my lord?”

  “Thank you, Mr. Edwards, I have.” The shop owner helped him finish his order and promised to have it ready a week from Friday. He left the shop, taking a deep breath and inhaled the fresh air. It was a good day. He felt lighter for some reason that he could not put his finger on. He headed down the walk to meet his mother for tea.

  Susan and Abby headed toward the tea shop with their arms entwined. She felt better as she twirled her parasol above her head. It felt good to breathe the warm air. She needed to relax. Looking over her shoulder, she didn't see Mr. Caldwell. Better to keep the parasol ready just in case. She listened as Abby chatted about what she would wear to the musicale. She brought her mind back to her friend.

  The tea shop was full of delectable aromas. The girls spotted Aunt Lucy with the countess.

  “Over here girls” Aunt Lucy waved to them.

  Susan laid the packages on an empty seat as they joined the ladies.

  “I have ordered our tea and some wonderful sandwiches and sweets,” Aunt Lucy informed them. The tea room was busy, full of gossip with young misses out for the day with their mothers.

  “I hope you don't mind if my son joins us. He was planning on meeting me here.” The countess smiled. “Oh, here he comes.” She waved at the door.

  Susan turned, and her heart skipped as, dark eyes set in an angler face and, flowing curls of brown hair approached. Mr. Balfour smiled as he held out his arms to the countess.

  “You made it, dear. Were you able to take care of your business?”

  Susan watched as he held the countess’s hands and smiled tenderly down at her. She felt a flutter of envy as he greeted the countess.

  “James, look who I found in the shop,” the countess said.

  Aunt Lucy smiled. “James, it is so good to see you home. Your mother tells me you are to stay.”

  “I want to settle down in my old age and enjoy the estate.” His eye crinkled as he winked.

  Aunt Lucy laughed and patted his hand. “James, you’re not old, but it is time you were home.”

  “Yes, well, it is good to see you, Lady Phelips.”

  “James, may I introduce Miss Phelips, my niece and her dear friend, Miss Hamilton. Lord Malmesbury”

  “Miss Phelips.” He bowed politely. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  Abby giggled and smiled.

  “Miss Hamilton, it’s nice to see you again.” Her heart pounded. He was the Earl of Malmesbury with a vast estate and she was a penniless gentleman's daughter. She looked around and noticed several girls were looking at the earl, whispering amongst themselves. It wouldn't be long before he had his choice of any young ladies of the town. But why hadn't he married before? It was a puzzle.

  “You know Miss Hamilton, James?” Aunt Lucy asked.

  “We met after an unfortunate carriage accident on the way to Montacute. Mr. Balfour was there to help us untangle from the ditch,” said Susan.

  “Oh, dear, I am so glad you were not hurt,” Aunt Lucy exclaimed.

  “The muddy road came to good use this once and we slid into the ditch bank and suffered no permanent damage to ourselves or the carriage and horses,” Susan assured her.

  “James, I am so glad you were there to help Miss Hamilton.”

  Mr. Balfour’s mouth quirked as he gave her a sidelong glance. Her face warmed with embarrassment as she remembered him looking at her turned upside down in the tumbled carriage.

  Mr. Balfour sat beside her. The tea arrived and they enjoyed their lunch, chatted about the weather, Abby's brother. Sir William, and other topics. She watched the earl, careful that he wasn't aware. He was polite not to leave anyone out, not bestowing his attention on any lady in particular, the perfect gentleman. Most of his attention was bestowed on the countess, his mother.

  She leaned over and whispered. “Why did you not tell me who you were?”

  “I did.” He watched her face as if fascinated with her smile.

  Frustrated she whispered. “Yes, but not the part about you being the Earl of Malmesbury, Your Lordship.”

  With a twist of his lip, he looked at her mischievously. “Would it have made a difference? I am, James Balfour. Besides. When people find I’m an earl, they treat me differently. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, considering the circumstances under which we met.”

  She didn’t know how to respond as she straightened up. His leg solidly brushed against hers under the table. Stiffening, she moved away and glanced around, but only James watched her, a slow smile crossing his face. Odd that a simple touch could shake her composure.

  The countess glanced at her time piece. “Sadly, it is time we must leave you.” James stood, helping the countess as she thanked them for the lovely tea. “Lucy, it was so good to see you and your lovely girls. Shall we see you tomorrow at Lady Filbert’s party?”

  “Of course, Julia,” Aunt Lucy replied as she stood. The countess gave her a friendly embrace as Susan and Abby gathered their parcels.

  “Ladies, let me help you.” James quickly reached for their packages as they walked outside. Their carriage waited by the board-walk. As they emerged onto the street James handed the parcels to the groom.

  He assisted them into their carriage touching Susan’s gloved hand. She tensed, as warmth spread up her arm and avoided eye contact as she stepped into the carriage. She could feel his breath on her neck as he leaned in and whispered softly.

  “I am glad you are well after your accident.” He stepped back, a
crooked smile forming on his lips. “Good day, ladies.” He moved languidly, away leaving her staring at his retreating figure. He tucked the countess's arm in his as he guided her down the walk.

  Abby sighed while leaning back against the seat. “My, Susan his lordship is handsome.” She waved her hand in front of her face in mock adoration.

  “Yes, he is. I think it’s time he finds a wife,” Aunt Lucy replied. “I know Julia is wishing to fill the house with grandchildren.”

  Abby gave Susan a nudge and giggled. “I am sure the town will be all a flutter after Lady Filbert’s musicale tomorrow.”

  Susan ignored her implication and sat back, reflecting on their day. She was relieved she had avoided Mr. Caldwell but frustrated at finding Mr. Balfour was the Earl of Malmesbury. Why it mattered, she couldn’t say.

  Chapter Five

  Susan spent the afternoon looking through her dresses and deciding what to wear. Mary worked quickly to finish the new over skirt for Lady Filbert’s party. She needed to talk with Aunt Lucy. If she wanted to support herself, she would need to find a position soon. She was determined not to go back to Sutton Hall, and she couldn’t stay here forever. “Mary, I'll leave you to finish. We can try on the dress this evening for any finishing touches.”

  She wandered through the house and found Aunt Lucy in her private parlor, embroidery in her hands.

  “Aunt Lucy, can I have a word with you?”

  “Yes, dear. Come, sit by the fire.” Aunt Lucy waved her to the chair beside her.

  She settled into the chair while gazing at the fire. Notwithstanding the warmth that emanated, the blue and yellow flames playing against each other much the way her thoughts were doing now. How should she broach the subject of her employment?

  While lost in her thoughts, her eyes strayed to Aunt Lucy’s fingers nimbly stitching flowers in the corner of the handkerchief. Her mother used to work the most beautiful embroidery.

  “Why so troubled Susan? Tell me what's bothering you.”

  Susan felt her chest tighten before taking a deep breath. She didn’t look up but focused on Aunt Lucy’s hands as she began, “You know Lady Kensley has convinced father to sell Fyne Court?” Susan fumbled with her skirt.

  “Yes, Abby told me. Your dear mother, I can't imagine how she would feel.”

  She felt tears coming on. “It gets worse, I’m afraid. Lady Kensley has ordered me to marry Mr. Caldwell. She wants me betrothed before they return from their wedding trip. She has threatened to make my life very uncomfortable, and Father supports her in this as well.” Susan lifted her head to gaze at Aunt Lucy.

  Aunt Lucy reached in her sleeve and handed her a handkerchief. Shaking her head, “Mr. Caldwell is a very unpleasant man. How can your Father condone such a match?”

  “Lady Kensley’s hand is in this,” Susan replied, wiping her tears. “She doesn't want me around. You can see my dilemma, Aunt Lucy. I don't love Mr. Caldwell, and I refuse to marry where my heart is not attached.” She cringed at the thought. “I have a plan, though, I need a letter of recommendation so I can procure a position as a lady's companion. I have nowhere else to turn. Would you help me?”

  “You have not reached your majority, dear,” Aunt Lucy replied.

  “No, I shall by the end of the summer.”

  “Well, then, we have time and you have given me a lot to think about. Don't you worry yourself. I want you to enjoy your stay here and I will look into suitable positions. You need a companion that your father will accept. Now cheer up and go change for dinner. We have a party tomorrow and young ladies should enjoy themselves,” Aunt Lucy reassured her.

  “Thank you, Aunt Lucy.” She felt a weight release. She would try to enjoy her stay. After giving Aunt Lucy a kiss on the cheek she slipped from the room.

  Susan had been to social functions before but never worried about how she looked. She needed to make a good impression if she were to secure a good position later, starting with this party. Mary had done wonders with her gown, she thought as she twirled in front of the looking glass. She felt presentable, but something was lacking. She touched her neck. Sorting through her box, she found her mother’s cameo hung by a ribbon. Memories flooded back.

  She was relieved Aunt Lucy had ordered the covered carriage so they wouldn't mess their hair and gowns. The carriage turned into the long drive up to the Filberts’ Estate, winding through a canopy of ancient maples with sun-beams filtering through the leaves and creating an enchanted affect. Two footmen in gleaming livery waited to help the guests out of their conveyances. She trailed Abby and her aunt through the entrance, taking in the great hall where the hostess, Lady Filbert, stood receiving guests.

  “Lady Phelips, welcome,” Lady Filbert gushed.

  “May I introduce Mr. Evans.” A spindly gentleman with thinning hair and dour expression bowed ever so slightly, nodding politely.

  “Lady Filbert, Miss Phelips my niece and Miss Hamilton, Lady Coventry’s daughter. Remember, dear, Anne married George Hamilton.”

  “Miss Hamilton, I recall your father recently married.” Lady Filbert took her in from head to toe, and a slow blush crept up Susan’s face. It was apparent all the county knew of her father’s current marriage, yet none of the polite crowd had attended. A fact she was thankful for considering her step-mother’s rough reputation.

  “Yes, they are on their wedding trip to London.” Susan gave a small curtsy.

  Lady Filbert smiled, nodding, and then turned her attention to the next guest, dismissing her with noticeable hauteur. Mr. Evans barely gave notice as he avoided eye contact. Susan wilted at the thought she had been tainted by her father’s choice of a bride.

  They moved past the line and wandered through the large entry, their steps echoing on the polished marble tiles. The salon was large and spacious, filled with afternoon light. A grand piano flanked by palms and exotic flowers in an array of colours stood at the end of the room.

  Susan gazed around before spotting a group of her friends gathered around chairs set against the wall. William Phelips was handing a drink to a blushing Eliza Grant. Her sister Joanne talked to a young man in flashy attire. Susan’s curiosity was peaked. She hadn't seen him before. Eliza turned and recognition dawned on her face as she approached.

  Susan asked. “Eliza, who is the young gentleman talking with Joanne? I don't remember seeing him before.”

  Eliza leaned in, speaking softly. “That is Mr. Bathurst. William introduced him.” Eliza's eyes widened, looking over Susan’s shoulder.

  “Oh, who is that?” All eyes turned in the direction Eliza indicated. The Countess of Malmesbury was sitting on a settee, talking with Aunt Lucy. Just inside the door, leaning against the back paneling, the Earl of Malmesbury in all his glory lounged, unaware of the scene he was creating for the females in the room. Susan’s heart fluttered at the site.

  “That is Lord Malmesbury. He has returned after years of serving the Regent,” Miss Sophia Moore said with her head held high. Susan took a step away at her sudden appearance. She had always disliked Sophia's haughty demeanor. She seemed to know everything about everyone.

  “Really, Sophia, how do you know all this?” Abby asked, coming up behind them.

  “I heard Mother talking about it at tea yesterday.” Sophia’s nose rose a little higher at her declaration. “The Earl was a spy in France at the request of the Regent and was instrumental in helping defeat the French at Waterloo,” she declared.

  Abby raised a brow, Susan shrugged in silent reply. Sophia’s mother Lady Moore was the worst gossip, and it was hard for her to know what the truth was.

  Lady Moore bustled up to the group and took hold of Sophia’s arm. “Come, Sophia, we must get an introduction before the program starts.”

  Susan didn't like the uncomfortable feeling rising in her as she watched Lady Moore and Sophia approach the Countess of Malmesbury, apparently in the hope of garnering an introduction to her son.

  “I really don't like Sophia,” Abby whispered to Sus
an.

  William and Mr. Bathurst greeted them. Eliza dimpled and dropped her eyes. Susan wondered if her friend was developing tender feelings for Abby's brother.

  “Ladies,” William bowed. “Mr. Bathurst has requested an introduction. Miss Phelips my sister and Miss Hamilton her friend.”

  Mr. Bathurst bowed. “I’m so glad to make your acquaintance.” He leaned over Abby’s hand. His booming voice matched his flamboyant attire.

  Susan glanced at Lady Moore, who was talking with the Countess of Malmesbury while the Earl listened. Lady Moore’s strong disposition dominated the conversation as Sophia looked on, smiling sweetly. Susan nibbled on her bottom lip. She couldn’t blame Sophia; he was extremely attractive. The earl turned his head, meeting her eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he caught her watching. She could feel the heat rising, embarrassed that he had caught her staring. She reluctantly refocused her attention on her group.

  “Mr. Bathurst, did your cousin, Lord Malmesbury really spy on the French for the Regent?” Abby inquired. “Miss Moore has been regaling us with his exploits on the continent.” Susan perked up at the mention of the earl.

  “Well now, a spy? I couldn't say out-right, but he was instrumental in the success Wellington had at beating the French at Waterloo.” Bathurst's chest puffed up in the telling. You would think he had been the one fighting all these years rather than his cousin.

  Susan found herself comparing Mr. Bathurst to Lord Malmesbury. Bathurst’s clothes were expensive but flashy, as evidenced by a large jeweled tie-pin that glittered from his cravat. His scarlet waistcoat under his green tailcoat spook volumes. She couldn’t help feeling Mr. Bathurst came out wanting.

  “Ladies, gentlemen our musical program will be starting soon so I urge to you find a seat.” Lady Filbert announced. Guests started claiming seats and the hum of voices slowly quieted.

  “May I escort you lovely ladies?” William offered the Grant sisters. Eliza giggled as Joanne quickly checked to see where their father the vicar was. Her father was engaged elsewhere, so Joanne joined her sister and accepted William’s arm. Susan smiled at William’s thoughtfulness in escorting the Grant sisters.