Lady Vane’s Secret
Elizabeth Hanbury
Contents
About the Author
Also by Elizabeth Hanbury
Acknowledgments
Foreward to 2018 edition
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Thank You
Praise for Elizabeth Hanbury
“A Regency writer of real skill, depth, wit and charm”
Nicola Cornick, USA Today best-selling author
“A brilliant read.”
Tifferz and her Sisters book reviews
“Swoonworthy kisses, sizzling chemistry and action that leaps off the page at you.”
Booksaresanity reviews
“Elizabeth Hanbury’s writing is wonderful”
Bookishly Attentive
“A highly entertaining read”
Historical Novels Review
“Funny, tender, evocative, atmospheric and brimming with plenty of charm”
Redrosesforauthors reviews
About the Author
Elizabeth Hanbury is a best selling author of warm and witty historical romance for UK and US publishers.
A member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association and Society of Authors, Elizabeth drinks too much tea and is addicted to cake, long walks and anything that makes her laugh. She lives in a village in the heart of England and writes whenever she can sneak away to her desk.
Find out more:
www.elizabethhanbury.com
She loves to hear from readers at:
[email protected] or
[email protected]
Also by Elizabeth Hanbury
The Paradise Will
The Cinderella Debutante
Regency Secrets and Scandals Series
Lady Vane’s Secret (Book 1)
Three Secrets and a Scandal (Book 2)
The Secret Duke (Book 3) not yet available
Regency Rakes and Rebels Series
Midsummer Eve at Rookery End (Book 1)
Christmas at Rakehell Manor (Book 2)
A Rake at Ravenstone Castle (Book 3) not yet available
Brief Encounters (short story collection with Phillipa Ashley and Nell Dixon)
Lady Vane’s Secret
Copyright © 2009-2018 Elizabeth Hanbury
First published as Ice Angel in 2009 by
Robert Hale Ltd, London
This edition © 2018 by Midsummer Hill Publishing
All rights reserved.
The right of Elizabeth Hanbury to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Except in the case of brief quotations for review purposes, no part of this book may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without written permission from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Rhian Awni
http://rhianawni.com/
Acknowledgments
My love and gratitude go to my family for their encouragement and for being a source of inspiration; Julia and Gill for their help and feedback at every stage; to my friends at C19, especially Glenda, Wendy, Jo, Eve, Christine, Sally, Rachel, Diane, Steph, Debbie, Viola, Jane, Nora, Neelma, Phillipa, Rosy, Maggie, Yvonne, Janet, Bernie, Ruth and Annalise; to Mags and Gilly for their assistance with historical research.
Thanks to Karen, Nicola, Lisa, Jo, Jane, Helen, Lorraine, Jill and Jackie for sharing your stories.
To Rhian Awni, thanks for a beautiful cover for this new edition.
Last but not least, a heartfelt thank you to the amazingly generous readers who make it all worthwhile by taking the time to read my books, write reviews and get in touch.
Foreward to 2018 edition
Dear Friends,
I hope you enjoy Lady Vane’s Secret. This edition includes a beautiful new cover, title and series title, all of which better reflect the books and the series as a whole and bring them up to date.
Lady Vane’s Secret was first published in 2009 and I loved the Cavanaghs and other characters so much that I went on to write a second book in the series, Three Secrets and a Scandal.
A third book, The Secret Duke, is due out soon. Each can be read as stand-alone but are best read in order. There’s more information on my website about the characters and how some hop between books.
Happy reading and please leave a review on Amazon or get in touch - I love to hear from you!
With love,
Elizabeth
Prologue
Yorkshire, England – January 1814
A storm raged outside and rain hammered against the window, but the young woman waiting in the bedchamber took little notice.
Having drawn up the sheet over the corpse, the doctor turned away from the bed and lifted his candle. The flame threw eerie shadows on the walls and revealed both her startling beauty and the large expressive eyes regarding him gravely.
Giving a brief shake of his head in response to her unspoken question, he said, ‘It is over. He is gone from this life and you may rest easy; the end was peaceful when it came.’ Observing that she pressed trembling fingertips against her lips and her eyes, full of indiscernible emotion, were now wet with unshed tears, the doctor touched her hand in a reassuring gesture. ‘You must tell the boy in the morning. The sooner he is told, the better, and you must make plans for the future.’
Quiet as a sigh, her voice stirred the candle flame. ‘I know, Dr Dalton, but it will be difficult. Sometimes I fear I shall never enjoy life again—’
‘Isabella,’ he interjected, ‘you must not allow tonight’s events and those of recent years to affect your judgement. There are many things to enjoy in this world. Take heart – you will come about.’
‘I am too numb to think or feel anything after what I have endured,’ she said, tears now falling down her pale cheeks, ‘but I shall do my best for Dominic. He deserves to find some pleasure.’
‘Do not channel all your energies into your child and neglect your own feelings, my dear; perhaps one day they can be awakened by the right person.’
‘No!’ she whispered fiercely. ‘My soul is frozen from the anguish I have suffered and I will never be beholden to a man again.’
Chapter 1
Spring 1815
On a damp evening, a mud-splattered post-chaise laden with portmanteaux came to a halt outside a fashionable town house in Curzon Street, Mayfair. Its sole occupant, a slim young woman dressed in a high poke bonnet and dark-blue pelisse, alighted a few moments later and, after thanking the postillion who had jumped down to assist her, she hurried through the drizzle to the front door.
It was opened by a smartly dressed servant. ‘Welcome back to London, Lady Vane,’ he said. ‘Everything has been arranged just as yo
u requested.’
‘Thank you, Silwood,’ she replied, in a lilting voice, stepping into the elegant, marble-floored entrance hall. ‘The journey seemed to take an age although it is not so far in distance. I am anxious to see Dominic. Is he still awake or has Harriet already sent him to bed?’
Before Silwood could reply, there was a cry from the top of the staircase. ‘Mama! Mama! You are here at last – I have been waiting this past hour and still you didn’t come.’ A fair-haired boy ran down the sweeping stairs and threw himself at his mother, putting his thin arms around her waist and burying his face in her skirts.
‘Hello, my dearest.’ Her expression softened as she returned his bearlike hug. ‘I am late, but the coach was delayed for almost an hour and not much can be done to hurry sheep when they are blocking a country lane.’
‘Sheep?’ he said, looking up keenly into her face, having latched on to the only word in her explanation that interested him. ‘Were there any lambs among them? If so, I hope you brought me one to keep, for I should like a lamb of my own very much.’
‘No, Dominic,’ she replied with a smile. ‘It is not possible to travel in a post-chaise with a lamb. The poor thing would be quite distressed, you know, and miss its mother. Besides, you have enough animals here already.’
‘Oh, well, I suppose if it would miss its mother, I could not keep it – I would not want anyone to take my mama away.’
‘Of course you would not, love. Where is Aunt Harriet?’ As she spoke, Lady Vane removed her gloves, pelisse and finally her bonnet to reveal glorious golden hair, pulled into a simple knot at the back of her head.
‘Lying down in her room. She has a headache because Joshua scratched at her embroidery until it was ruined.’ Dominic looked up in concern as he continued, ‘Please don’t be angry, Mama – I know Joshua shouldn’t have done it, but he is playful and always finding mischief.’
‘That kitten of yours will have to learn better manners if he is to live in London,’ replied Lady Vane, amusement in her voice. ‘Was Aunt Harriet angry?’
‘Oh, no! She never is. She just sighed, like this,’ – Dominic imitated a sigh of resignation – ‘and said “that is the trouble in sharing a house in the city with so many creatures”.’
‘Poor Harriet! I’ll speak to her, and perhaps her headache will improve when I give her my news.’
‘Is it good news then?’ he asked eagerly.
‘Yes, it is, Dominic,’ she replied. ‘Go and find Mary and when you are ready for bed, I’ll come and share my secret.’
He whooped with excitement and ran back up the stairs, holding on to the handrail and taking the steps as fast as his legs would allow. She smiled as she watched him, relieved to see her son in such high spirits.
‘Will you be requiring dinner in the dining-room this evening, Lady Vane?’ queried her butler, who was still awaiting further instructions.
‘I’m not certain, Silwood – has Mrs Forster already eaten?’
He gave a small, deprecating cough. ‘Er, no, Lady Vane – that is, she was upset following the incident Master Dominic has described and said she did not desire food.’
‘I understand,’ said Isabella, with a knowing look at the expression that crossed Silwood’s face. ‘Perhaps I can coax her out of her megrims. See that my luggage is dealt with and arrange for dinner to be served in half an hour; Mrs Forster and I shall dine together if I can persuade her to come downstairs.’
‘Very good, ma’am.’
Silwood went away, and Lady Vane made her way upstairs to her aunt’s chamber to knock on the door. A feeble voice bade her enter and she went in to find Harriet sitting up in bed and sipping a cup of tea, a fetching lace cap set slightly askew on her soft brown hair.
At the sight of her niece, Harriet replaced her cup on the china saucer too quickly, spilling some of its contents on the pristine white sheet, but she did not appear to regard it as important and held out her hand in greeting. ‘Isabella! Thank goodness you are back. My head aches and it is the fault of that silly kitten – my embroidery is quite ruined.’ She sniffed in a prosaic fashion. ‘Of course, I did not chastize Dominic because Joshua always manages to escape from wherever one puts him. But that is not the whole of it: you will not believe what that parrot has learnt to say while you have been in Sussex, and what it has done to the curtains in Dominic’s room—!’
‘Oh, Harriet,’ interjected Isabella, laughing as she squeezed her aunt’s slim fingers and bestowed a kiss on one delicately perfumed cheek. ‘I see you have endured a trying time while I have been at Haystacks, but let me give you my news for I shall burst if I do not tell someone soon.’
Harriet sat forward and opened velvet brown eyes wider in anticipation. ‘You have met Mr Longville then?’ she asked urgently. ‘How are things situated – is the house fit to live in, or is it in bad repair?’
‘Everything is settled,’ replied Isabella, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘The property has three acres of ground which will be perfect for Dominic to explore and it is near to the coast, so that, too, will be excellent for the summer. The only problem is the state of the house; Great Uncle James did not keep it in good repair, and although the exterior is reasonably sound, the rooms will need attention before we can occupy it. I stayed there while I have been away, but it was not comfortable, even though Mr and Mrs Johnson, Uncle James’s old servants, did their best.’
‘But what shall we do for funds?’ queried Harriet, a note of despair in her voice. ‘You know that we have none.’
‘That is my good news. It seems that Great Uncle James lived a parsimonious existence, and consequently he had a respectable fortune to his name. Mr Longville informed me that Uncle James bequeathed his money to me, as well as Haystacks.’ Isabella’s luminous blue gaze rested on her aunt, a glow of pleasure briefly replacing the wary look that lurked there. ‘Now we are independent, Harriet. We have enough money to be comfortable, and to provide for Dominic’s future. All the arrangements are in place and Mr Longville has agreed to oversee the repairs.’
With a cry of delight, Harriet embraced her niece. ‘My dear, such wonderful news! When shall we be able to leave London?’
‘Not for several weeks. The work will take time and we must manage here until then. It is not an ideal arrangement when we have Dominic’s animals for company, but we must endure it as best we can. In any event, the rent here is paid until September so we may as well take advantage of that.’
‘With these animals running wild, I shudder to think what state this house will be in by then,’ said Harriet, before adding bluntly, ‘or my nerves.’
A smile lit Isabella’s delicate features. ‘It is not for long, and I could not have asked Dominic to give up his pets; it would have been too much with the other distress he has had to deal with.’
‘How good it is to see you smile again,’ observed Harriet. ‘I declare it is an age since I have seen you as relaxed as you are at this moment – perhaps you are beginning to forget the past.’
‘I shall never forget, Harriet, since remembering makes me wary. Besides, it does not signify if I am more at ease: you know that I have no intention of entertaining or even going into society.’
‘But you cannot live like a hermit while we are in London,’ she replied, shocked. ‘It is unnatural, and there will be talk if you do.’
Isabella gave an elegant shrug. ‘I don’t care. While we endure this short stay in Town, I have no wish to provide fodder for the tattlemongers, and certainly no desire to attract gentlemen – the reason why most young women come to London for the season.’
‘I fear we will be considered eccentric if we do not attend a few functions,’ said Harriet. ‘Why, my old acquaintance Lady Pargeter called in your absence and was obliging enough to leave an invitation to her evening party. Shall we not attend, then?’
Looking at her aunt’s forlorn expression, Isabella realized that although she preferred to keep society at bay, her aunt had a different opinion.
When her husband had died, leaving her a widow and childless at thirty-two, Harriet had responded with surprising fortitude and, notwithstanding her straitened financial circumstances, had contrived to live modestly with the assistance of friends.
Then, four years ago, Harriet had received Isabella’s urgent plea. Knowing something of her niece’s situation, Harriet had agreed to move to Yorkshire and in so doing, had effectively cut all her links with society.
During that time, Isabella, who would always be grateful for the way Harriet had left her life in London behind without question or rancour, had come to regard her as a beloved older sister rather than an aunt.
From Harriet’s tone of voice as she had asked this question, Isabella recognized that her aunt was yearning for company now it was once more available to her.
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