by Regina Darcy
Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
EPILOGUE
BONUS CHAPTER 1:FALLING FOR THE EARL
BONUS CHAPTER 2:THE DUKE’S SECRET DESIRE
KEEP IN TOUCH!
Copyright © Regina Darcy 2016
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
For queries, comments or feedback please use the following contact details:
reginadarcy.cleanandwholesomeromance.com
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ONE
Signora Marco sat straight in her chair, her back not touching the elegant piece of furniture that had seated the headmistresses of the academy since the founding of the school half a century ago.
Posture was something that could be easily taught to young girls. One sat down, one sat straight. It was all very simple and very teachable. Other things were not so easy to teach.
The Signora’s back sagged. With a worry wrinkle, she looked at the letter she was scribing. If it were only a matter of instructing girls in posture and deportment, or the gentler arts, the school would have no difficulty in fulfilling its promise of turning out young ladies who were ready to enter society and then withdraw, as women did, into marriage.
But in the ten years that she had been a student, Georgiana Drew had for some reason failed to understand that her personality was too . . . too . . .
What was the English to convey the reasons why young Georgiana was not one of the academy’s successes? For all that she was fluent in French and Italian, played the piano with exquisite skill and sensitivity—Monsieur Delacorte had declared that she were not born to the aristocracy, she could have played professionally—painted with commendable skill; danced gracefully; and embroidered beautifully. Yet she lacked the finished polish that was typically exhibited by girls from the institution.
Struggling to find the right words, Signora Marco finally decided that less was more. As long as Sir Edward complied with her request and sent for the stepdaughter he had enrolled in the academy a decade ago, there would be no need to reveal the mischief that Signorina Drew had gotten into this time; the Signora did not wish to make matters difficult for the girl, who was high-spirited but not unruly.
And what girl would not be, the Signora wondered, with no family contact in ten years? It was perhaps a miracle that Georgiana was as pleasant as she was, given the fact that her stepfather had sent her to school and made no inquiries about her welfare in all that time. The funds for her schooling and needs had always been sent promptly, as if to make sure that she would be kept there, but never had there been a word of interest.
Still, that was not a matter that the academy had the means to address. Miss Georgiana Drew needed to depart. Her presence was proving to disruptive.
Her lips pursed, the Signora dipped her quill pen into the inkwell and proceeded to finish her letter.
Dear Sir James Edward,
Your stepdaughter’s time at the academy has come to an end. She is nineteen now, and as you may guess, a nineteen-year-old young woman can be somewhat of a disruptive influence upon younger girls who are in the process of learning how to conduct themselves so that they are obedient daughters.
I look forward to receiving funds for her return journey to England. Thank you for your diligent patronage over the years.
We are sorry to see Miss Drew depart.
Yours faithfully,
Signora Eleanora Marco
Headmistress
Satisfied that the letter delivered its message without the need for any disclosure of Georgiana’s latest escapade, the Signora prepared it for posting. The girls who left the academy were renowned for their exquisite and restrained composure. Soon Miss Drew would be gone and the academy could return to its sedate pace.
When she arose from her desk, the headmistress’s posture was once again ramrod-straight.
***
The journey from Florence to Great Britain had been long and not at all the adventure that Georgiana Drew had hoped for, but she had made the best of it, and the sailors had been impressed.
She was pleased that she had not been seasick and the captain himself had complimented her on her constitution as she had stayed on deck as often as possible to enjoy the sea air rather than stay cooped up in her stuffy cabin where there was nothing to do. Nonetheless, she had been relieved when the ship arrived and the carriage sent by her stepfather had taken her to his London home.
His written instructions had been brief. He was not at home; she was to meet with the housekeeper, Mrs. Endicott, who would acquaint her with the house. She had been welcomed upon her arrival, but because of the late hour, Mrs. Endicott simply led her to her bedroom, where a tray had sat for her. Tomorrow, Mrs. Endicott said, there would be time to review Sir Edward’s instructions.
It was now the next morning and Georgiana was already awake when the maid knocked on the door to bring her a cup of cocoa and a breakfast tray.
“Good morning, Miss Georgiana, I’m Cassie. I’m your chamber maid. I’ll be waiting on you and since you don’t have a lady’s maid, I’ll be that as well.”
“Thank you, Cassie. This looks delicious. Much nicer than what we had in the morning at school.”
Cassie giggled. “I’ll tell Cook. She’ll love hearing that them foreigners can’t cook.”
“They either couldn’t or wouldn’t,” Georgiana replied. “I expect the teachers dined better than we did, but this is much nicer than porridge.” She eyed the repast with anticipation: three strips of bacon, crispy but not burned; a fluffy mound of freshly scrambled eggs; toasted bread spread with sweet-smelling strawberry jam, and a cup of hot cocoa sending redolent clouds of steam into the air.
“I’ll come back in half an hour, Miss Georgiana, to help you dress.”
“That will be lovely. I’m afraid my wardrobe is frightfully school girlish.”
“Mrs. Endicott says that Sir Edward has left instructions for you to go shopping so that you have a fitting wardrobe now that you’re in London. I shouldn’t say, mistress, but it sounds as though Sir Edward expects that you’ll be a married lady very soon.”
“A married lady? I don’t see how that can be when I know no gentlemen in London and have only just arrived.”
“But you’re to go to the Duchess of Hampstead’s ball next week, mistress. Surely you’ll meet gentlemen there. No doubt one will fall in love with you and ask for your hand.”
Cassie’s enthusiasm was inspiring. Georgiana felt her spirits rise. Perhaps it would be just as Cassie predicted and she would meet the man she was destined to marry just like that. She did not wish to be confined to her stepfather’s rules; she had vivid memories of him scolding her for her childhood mischief. She’d been particularly adept at climbing out of windows and then descending from the tree to reach the ground, so that she could go riding. That had been what sent her off to school in Florence. It was also what had sent her back home.
“Tell me, Cassie, does Sir Edward keep horses? I very much want to go riding. It was my passion at the school.”
“Oh, yes ma’am, but it’s best if you wait for S
ir Edward’s permission before you ride. He’s quite particular.”
That was distressing, but Georgiana did not want to start off on the wrong foot with the stepfather she had not seen in ten years. He was the only relative she knew.
Georgiana’s father had died when she was quite young; and her mother had subsequently married Sir James Edward, a respected member of society with a lucrative interest in the shipping industry. His pedigree and wealth allowed him to pursue his interests without offending the standards of Society, which decreed that a man’s wealth should not be derived from anything so base as trade or industry.
When his wife died, a couple of years later, leaving him with a strong-willed stepdaughter, Sir Edward had taken the only option which made sense. He had sent her away to the Continent for her schooling. The girls’ school in Florence was very well recommended and its fees were reasonable; this was sufficient. Even after ten years, neither had missed the other. She knew that although he held no fatherly affection for her, he took his responsibilities very seriously, and she was definitively one of his responsibilities.
At any rate, she no longer needed to escape through a window in order to go riding. She hoped there was a mount for her to use, one with a bit of spirit and dash and not some stodgy old horse more fit for glue than a canter in Rotten Row.
After she’d finished her breakfast, Cassie reappeared to help her with her dressing. Cassie had nothing to say to cheer Georgiana up as they reviewed her dresses. “They’re even worse than I realised,” Georgiana cried out.
“Yes, mistress, but no doubt once you’ve been to Bond Street, you’ll be ordering such pretty things: frocks and pelisses and spencers and gloves and all the things that fine ladies wear. Sir Edward won’t want you appearing in public looking dowdy.”
“I haven’t seen Sir Edward in a long time,” Georgiana divulged as she selected a pale blue frock which, if it had nothing in particular to recommend it, at least complemented her large blue eyes, which even Mademoiselle Duchenne, the disapproving French instructor, had said were her most commanding feature. “He was rather strict.”
Cassie, who was brushing out Georgina’s tangled brown locks, was silent at first. “I expect that he was busy, and not sure of what to do with a child,” she said finally.
“Is he still . . . busy?”
Their eyes met in the mirror in front of them. “Yes, miss,” Cassie said to the reflection in the mirror. “He’s very busy.”
Georgiana didn’t answer immediately. Then she said, “It’s good to know. Thank you, Cassie. We shall try not to disturb Sir Edward.”
Cassie smiled. “That’s best, miss. And if you marry soon, then it won’t matter how busy he is.”
“Yes, of course. Would you like to be a lady’s maid, Cassie?”
“Oh, yes miss, more than anything.”
Since Cassie was likely more au currant with the latest fashion and hairstyles than Georgiana, who had been sequestered away in a strict girls’ school, Georgiana had no doubt that the girl would make an admirable lady’s maid, and perhaps even a confidante. Marriage might be the only option for freedom, but Georgiana, after ten years of confinement, had no intention of surrendering one cage for another one, however gilded. She would not marry to please Sir Edward.
TWO
Sir Edward took out his pocket watch and gave it a lengthy perusal as Georgiana descended the staircase.
“Have I kept you waiting, Sir Edward?” she asked in her sweetest tones. “I do apologise. But I wanted to be sure that I was dressed with the utmost distinction so that I can do you honour at tonight’s ball, and I’m very much afraid that it took longer than I expected. I do hope you will forgive me.”
The headmistress at her school would have recognised the tactic that Georgiana had mastered early on. An artful delivery of an alibi couched in terms that appeared to be nothing but reasonable.
By the time they had entered the carriage, Georgiana’s effusive gratitude had gone on at length and Sir Edward had a headache. She detailed every dress that she’d ordered, and each comment was accompanied by expressions of thanks for his generosity.
The chit looked pretty enough, Sir Edward thought. She was dressed in a delicate shade of pink with just enough embellishments to show off the dress and its fashionable style while still allowing her natural beauty to show to advantage. She reminded him of her mother; Lady Eleanor had been a beauty in her day. Georgiana didn’t have her mother’s frail, feminine appearance; she was bursting with health and vitality.
Despite being a man who took his obligations seriously, Sir Edward had no intention of being encumbered with the expense and headache of a full-grown stepdaughter. If someone didn’t offer for her quickly, he had alternate plans.
The school in Florence had not availed itself of the opulent artistic appeal of its Italian heritage, and Georgiana had become accustomed to a somewhat Spartan environment. Sir Edward’s London house was stylish and suitable for a gentleman of means. But the Duchess maintained a house which could only be described as gorgeous and once they were announced and found themselves inside, she stared in unconcealed awe.
“Don’t be goggle-eyed, Georgiana,” Sir Edward advised. “All the best houses have chandeliers; don’t look as if you’ve never seen one before.”
“I apologise, Sir Edward,” she gushed. “If anyone should ask why I’m goggle-eyed, I’ll be sure to explain that for the past ten years I’ve been attending a school where we thought ourselves lucky to have a candlestick to find our way to our beds at night. We had nothing like this and I feel quite the country mouse to see such splendour.”
“Do not—” Sir Edward’s temples were throbbing. “Do not speak of—”
Georgiana’s blue eyes widened. “Sir Edward, what shall I speak of? If I say nothing, it will be thought that I’m mute.”
“Follow the lead of your companion,” he said through clenched teeth. “Speak of the weather. That should be safe.”
“I shall endeavour to do my best,” she assured him. “Has it been rainy or sunny in England? I have been gone so long.”
“Don’t speak of it,” he said. “Simply smile. That should not cause any misunderstandings. I have business to attend to.”
She was not dismayed that he had left her; Sir Edward would not have been her choice of an escort for the evening. She made her way through the throng, confident that something remarkable would happen.
Her confidence was soon rewarded when an older woman came up to her. “My dear child, you are the very mirror of your mother. You don’t know me of course, but your Grandmother Drew and I were great friends in our youth. I am Lady Mary Harcourt; you must meet my grandson, Alexander.” Lady Harcourt signalled and a young man came at her summons. “Miss Georgiana Drew, this is my grandson, Lord Alexander Lester. Alexander, my boy, please bring Miss Drew a glass of punch.”
“Delighted,” said Lord Alexander with a bow as he took himself off on his grandmother’s errand.
“He’s a dear boy,” Lady Harcourt said. “You must dance with him. He’s a second son but that does not mean that he is without prospects, no indeed.” Georgiana nodded politely. Lady Harcourt looked at her appraisingly and said, “You have been abroad, my dear?”
“Yes, I was in school in Florence—”
“You will be looking for a husband, of course. The Duchess has invited many prospects tonight, but remember that a grand title is not necessarily the best husband material. I would be doing your dear departed grandmother a grave injustice if I failed to look out for your wellbeing.”
Alexander returned with two glasses of punch. His grandmother beamed. “Dear boy. Now, Miss Georgiana has been away at school for a very long time, Alexander. You must make her feel welcome.”
Lord Alexander Lester was a weedy looking youth with extravagantly coiffed hair that seemed capable of housing a nest of fledglings. The carefully combed locks moved in lockstep when he nodded or shook his head during the conversation. As he was a young ma
n given to emphatic pronouncements, Georgiana found herself studying his hair to see if it would topple.
“—with 20,000 pounds a year, you’re likely to be besieged tonight.”
“I beg your pardon?” Georgiana forced her gaze away from the tower of hair. “Besieged?”
“Heiresses always are,” he said practically.
“Heiresses?”
“Ever since we learned that you’d be returning to London this Season, I should say all the heiress hunting gentlemen have been making plans.”
“Really? What sort of plans?”
“Oh, you know. We’d all like to marry an heiress; most of us are dipped beyond our means and my Papa is dreadfully tight with the purse strings. Grandmama promised to keep a watch for you tonight so that I’d be the first on the scene.”
“I see. Your grandmother is a very useful family member to have.”
“Grandmama found an heiress for my brother. He’s the heir, but there isn’t a lot to offer a girl. Except for the title; heiresses like that,” he said as if he were explaining the intricacies of a formula to her. “Of course it means that a chap has to close his eyes to where the money came from. Dreadful lot of it is in trade, don’t you know. But you,” he beamed, “you’re a cut above the rest. An heiress and an incomparable beauty. You’ll be mobbed. I say, may I have the first dance?”
Georgiana gave him her most winning smile, the one that had charmed the riding master at the school into allowing her to have the pick of the stable when she went riding. “I’m so sorry,” she said sorrowfully. “But I injured my ankle when I was disembarking from the ship before boarding for England. I shouldn’t even be standing, to tell you the truth. I hope it’s not very bad. I should hate to have my foot amputated. But pray, do not let me hinder you. Do dance; it’s such a comfort to those who are lame to be able to watch the others.”
