As Serena slowly made her way down to the seclusion of the camellia garden she rather thought she really might give Hugh Farrington the benefit of the doubt. After all, she had never met a man like him in her life, and she doubted that she ever would again.
Serena had thought to push him away to avoid having her heart broken, and yet, in the very act of not seeing him, Serena rather felt her heart beginning to break anyway. Maybe she really ought to risk it? Maybe she had nothing to lose?
“I say, I have waited an awfully long time for you to head back this way and come down into the camellia garden.” Hugh suddenly appeared from behind an extremely tall camellia-covered trellis, frightening Serena almost out of her wits.
“For heaven’s sake, Hugh!” Serena said, her voice coming out in a rather raspy sort of a squeal. “What are you doing?” She was breathing hard.
“I was simply waiting for you here, Serena. I really must talk to you,” Hugh said and looked more serious than Serena had ever seen him.
“But is it really necessary for you to perpetually hide behind shrubbery?” Serena, her voice still shrill, almost made herself laugh with her comment.
“I suppose it is just second nature,” Hugh said and shrugged in such a comical manner that Serena could not help laughing.
“How I have missed your laugh and your turn of phrase, Serena,” Hugh said as he took a step towards her.
Serena realised just how badly she had missed him as she looked into his handsome face. And he had called her Serena. He had used her Christian name for the first time and without invitation. Something about it seemed so terribly intimate to her that she wanted to throw herself into his arms.
“And I have missed you,” Serena said simply.
“Please allow me to explain that there was nothing, ever, between Miss Lucrecia Asquith and myself. In the beginning, I liked her very much and often spoke to her and spent time with her. But believe me that we never had an understanding of any kind and that I never really felt a great deal for her.”
“I see,” Serena said, as her brain tried very hard to catch up.
“I have not been a saint in this world, Serena, but I have not been a bad man either. In truth, I have searched for a woman like you since I ceased being a boy, and never once have I found such a woman until now.”
“Oh Hugh, you will make me cry,” Serena said as she was already dabbing at the corners of her eyes.
“I cannot lose you, Serena. In truth, I cannot.” Hugh took the remaining few steps to cover the small distance between them.
“I do not want to lose you either. These last weeks have been the worst I have ever had.” And with that, Serena threw herself into his arms.
Hugh held her tightly and nuzzled his face into her thick golden hair. After some moments, he began to plant small kisses on the top of her head, moving down until he reached her ear. As he kissed her ear, Hugh’s breathing grew ragged and fast, and something about it made the hair on the back of Serena’s neck stand up with pleasure. Before she was able to stop herself, Serena let out a gentle moan.
“Oh, Serena,” Hugh said, and she could hear that his voice was thick with desire.
Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her firmly on the lips. It felt so wonderful that, for a moment, Serena could hardly breathe. By the time she did take another breath, it shrieked into her lungs like a gasp.
“Are you alright?” Hugh whispered hoarsely.
“Yes,” Serena said. “Yes, I truly am.” And this time, it was she who kissed him.
As her lips parted just a little, Serena felt the tip of his tongue touch her own. She felt almost as if she had been struck by lightning, so intense was the feeling it sent through her entire body.
For a moment, Hugh pulled away from her and looked desperately about him. For a few dreadful moments, Serena thought there was some witness or other to their embrace until she realised that Hugh was staring across towards the old summerhouse.
Without words, Serena looked back towards the house. She knew she was entirely alone out in the gardens and that her father would certainly not even be back from the north of the County where he had been out on business for the best part of the day.
She looked back at Hugh and wordlessly nodded. He immediately took her by the hand, and they hastened over to the summerhouse, shutting themselves inside and locking the door behind them.
Serena could not find the words to say to Hugh, but then she did not think she really needed to say anything. Her sudden need for him went beyond anything that she could put into words anyway and so, without a word at all, Serena reached for him.
They kissed again, only this time with much more urgency and passion. They had the tiny summerhouse to themselves; this one opportunity to be alone together.
In no time at all, Hugh had unfastened her gown and had gently pushed it to the floor. Serena could hardly believe that she was responding in kind, pulling at his tailcoat and unbuttoning his waistcoat almost all at once.
As soon as they were both naked, Hugh gently laid her down on the floor of the summerhouse on top of his own coat. He lowered himself down on top of Serena and began to kiss her again. After some moments, he began to kiss her throat before moving down to explore her breasts with his smooth lips.
“Oh, Hugh,” Serena moaned and arched her body up towards his.
“I love you,Serena,” Hugh said as he lowered himself closer still.
“I love you too.”
Epilogue
Hugh stared out of their bedroom window across the vast expanse of lawn to where his new wife stood talking to their gardener. Serena was undoubtedly congratulating the man on a successful attempt at creating a small peacock out of the rather ungainly clump of box hedging.
Hugh had asked the gardener to create the thing without her knowledge and rather thought that Serena would find the whole thing terribly funny. In the end, she had not only been amused, but she had also been rather touched by the whole thing. Serena had thought it quite a romantic gesture and, in the end, Hugh quite agreed with her.
After all, it was a rather fitting commentary on the start of their life together. The topiary peacocks at Rosedown Manor had set the tone for a quite fun filled acquaintance and hopefully a long and happy married life.
And yet, when Hugh thought of how he had nearly lost her, his customary happy aspect disappeared without trace. Eleanor and Oscar Cunningham had done everything in their power to sour the relationship between Hugh and Serena, and they had very nearly cost him the greatest piece of happiness he had ever known in his life.
Quite why Serena had chosen to allow him back into her life and accept everything he said, Hugh had no idea, nor thought he ever would have. Whatever or whomever had changed Serena’s mind had done Hugh the sort of favour that could never, ever be repaid.
His only consolation in that regard was that he knew he had told Serena the whole truth. Yes, he had searched high and low for the sort of woman who would truly satisfy him in every way and had despaired of ever finding the sort of love that he knew himself to finally have.
But now that he had found her, now that he finally had married the only woman he would ever love, Hugh’s search had come to an end. He wanted only Serena, and so, a life spent as a faithful husband would come as no hardship whatsoever to him.
Of course, Hugh Farrington would have other diversions now. Much apart from his beautiful wife, Hugh fully intended to throw all his weight behind the furtherance of the feud between the Farringtons and the Cunninghams. They had very nearly cost him the most important thing in the whole world, and that was something that he would never, ever, forgive.
For Hugh Farrington, the feud between the Farringtons and the Cunninghams was no longer about the distant and almost fictional character of Aunt Verity. No, Hugh’s part in it all was now suddenly very real. And very, very personal.
The Lord and the Attorney’s Niece
Book 3
Introduction
When
Davina Marfont, young, intelligent, and beautiful, is introduced to a man at a poetry recital, little does she know the sudden turn her life is to take.
As the orphaned niece of Wallace Marfont, attorney to the Duke of Horndean, Davina knows much of the feud which has raged between the families of Farrington and Cunningham for more than three decades.
Realising that the handsome and somewhat intense man is none other than a brother to the Duke of Calgarth, Davina understands just what dangerous territory she finds herself in.
With the help of Lady Cordelia Cunningham, the romantic and tender-hearted youngest daughter of the Duke of Horndean, Davina is able to meet the romantic and disturbingly passionate young man in secret.
In no time at all, the two fall in love; their shared passion for the rugged, windswept countryside of the North and the poetry of John Keats binding them together, almost as if fate had intended them to find one another.
When her secret is discovered, Davina must decide between betraying the man she loves and betraying all her hopes for a safe and secure future.
And when that decision is made, Lord Lucas Farrington must search his poet’s soul for his own solution.
Chapter One
As Davina Marfont waited in the grand drawing room of Horndean Hall, she really rather hoped that Cordelia Cunningham would be the first person to come down and join her to wait for dinner. In truth, each and every one of the remaining Cunninghams simply made Davina feel tremendously uncomfortable. Prudence, the Duchess, and Lady Eleonora, her daughter, were both picky and rather spiteful people and seemed to take a certain amount of delight in looking down on Davina.
As for the men, the Duke, Cornelius Cunningham, was simply overbearing and intimidating, whilst Richard, his eldest son, was aloof and uncommunicative. However, Richard was certainly better than Oscar, who leered openly and made her flesh crawl.
All in all, she did not think there was much to recommend the Cunninghams as a family. However, Cordelia Cunningham, the youngest of them all, was an absolute delight and, although she would not say it out loud in front of the rest of the Cunninghams, Davina thought of her as her friend.
“I am so glad that you are staying for dinner, Davina. I saw your uncle about the place and was not sure that you had stayed.” Cordelia bustled into the room all smiles.
Davina and Cordelia were, at twenty years, the same age. Both had a love of learning and desire to study whatever it was that interested them, and it had been these simple qualities which had drawn the two together in the first place.
“Good evening, Cordelia,” Davina said brightly. She was genuinely pleased to see the young woman.
In truth, when any other was present, Davina was forced to call Cordelia Lady Cordelia. However, when the two were alone, Cordelia simply would not hear of it. As far as she was concerned, they were friends, and there was no need of such formality. “You look beautiful. What a wonderful gown.”
Thank you, Davina.” Cordelia smiled brightly. “This is the first time that I have worn it, and I was not entirely sure that the colour would suit me.”
Although Cordelia liked to dress in gowns that were a little more simply cut than the proud peacock affairs that her much plainer sister Eleanor wore, it was still very clear that her clothing was of the very highest quality. And that evening was to be no different; Cordelia wore a rich, dark blue gown with an organza overlay that caught the light beautifully. Furthermore, she seemed to match rather well with the rest of the drawing-room.
Davina had always loved to be in the drawing-room at Horndean Hall, as long as she was in the right company. It was the lightest and most airy space she had ever been in, with all the oak wood panelling which adorned the walls painted in a beautiful duck-egg blue, with the ornate wooden scrollwork picked out in a brilliant white. The drapes were a beautiful long white, and the windows so large that, in the hours of daylight, the room was wonderfully light. Cordelia’s dark blue gown provided a beautiful yet very complimentary contrast to the surroundings. It also suited the young woman very well indeed.
“I think the colour suits you perfectly, Cordelia.” Davina reached out and touched the organza, smiling appreciatively.
“And I am so glad that you are here tonight, Davina because I wanted to discuss with you the prospect of an evening out for the two of us next week,” Cordelia said, suddenly rather excited.
“Indeed? And what is the event?” Davina said, finding Cordelia’s enthusiasm suddenly infectious despite not knowing what was coming next.
“There is to be a talk and a poetry reading at the home of Miss Florence Nelson on Wednesday of next week. The speaker is a man called Jasper Holden. I must admit, I have never heard of him before. However, Miss Nelson has heard that he is really rather good.”
“And whose poetry is to be read? Is it that of Jasper Holden himself?”
“Oh no, silly me, I forgot to say. The poetry is that of Mr John Keats,” Cordelia said and subconsciously placed her hand over her heart.
“Oh, how wonderful. Yes, if I can get my uncle to agree to let me out, then I should very much like to go with you.”
“Then I have a little plan in that regard. Perhaps I shall ask you to the event over dinner. That way, your uncle cannot possibly refuse.” Cordelia gave her friend a conspiratorial smile.
“That is very true.” Davina smiled back.
Wallace Marfont, Davina’s uncle, was the sole attorney to the Duchy of Horndean. He had been in the position for many years and had no other clients but them. He maintained an office upon the great estate of Horndean and a modest manor house within the boundaries of the Horndean lands.
Although he did not particularly deny Davina’s attendance at any event that Cordelia invited her to, he was known to be a little cruel and obstructive at times and, had Davina asked for herself, it was not a certainty that he would allow her to attend.
The late John Keats was a wonderful poet, and Davina’s very favourite; she would not have wanted for all the world to risk missing such an evening.
“Then it is settled; I shall ask you over dinner,” Cordelia said, determined. “It promises to be a wonderful evening. The talk is about Mr Keat’s life and times. Of course, we both know the ins and outs of that already, but it is always wonderful to hear it from somebody else’s perspective, is it not?”
“I shall never tire of hearing anything regarding John Keats. And I very much like Miss Nelson. She is such a welcoming and learned sort of a woman.” Davina smiled.
“Yes, I really rather like Florence Nelson myself. She always has such interesting things going on over in Stoneden. If it were not for Miss Henderson, I doubt I should ever go over to Stoneden at all.”
Florence Nelson was an ageing spinster and a very learned woman indeed. She liked to gather about her people of like minds who enjoyed learning new things and revisiting old things and discussing them at length. It had been some time since there had been a poetry recital in her Stoneden home, and Wednesday could not come soon enough for Davina.
“I must say, that sounds rather dreary. You would not find me attending something so very dull.” Both young women spun around to see that Lady Eleonora Cunningham had silently entered the room.
Davina immediately felt uncomfortable; she really did not like the young woman. Not only that, but Davina did not trust her either. Lady Eleonora seemed always to creep into a room in a way which always gave Davina the impression that she had stood outside listening for some moments before entering. Of course, she had no proof of this; it was merely an instinct.
“We both like poetry, Eleonora, and so we are very much looking forward to it.” Cordelia spoke so graciously and with such warmth that Davina felt suddenly a little shabby by comparison.
Where Davina had instantly thought about Lady Eleonora with cruelty and suspicion, Cordelia had simply treated her with loving kindness, almost as if she had entirely disregarded her elder sister’s scratchy tone.
“I wonder if that is pe
rhaps because you are both rather dull yourselves,” Eleonora said and smirked. She had clearly amused herself.
“Well, I do not think so, Eleonora,” Cordelia said, in the same warm tone. “But, of course, you may have whatever opinion you choose, my dear sister.”
“Perhaps you might pour us both a glass of sherry, Davina.” Lady Eleonora turned her attention upon Davina.
Immediately, Davina began to make her way to the drinks trolley.
“Eleonora, Davina is our guest this evening. She is not one of the maids.”
“But she is not one of us either, Cordelia,” Eleonora said in a strident tone. “And if anyone in this room is to pour drinks for us, then it ought to be the one of lowest social status. Davina Marfont simply fits the bill.”
“Eleonora, I do not like such cruelty. It is unnecessary, and you are not only making Davina uncomfortable, but you are making me uncomfortable also.”
Whilst the sisters continued to discuss the matter, Davina simply poured them each a sherry, choosing not to take one for herself. It was not the first time that Lady Eleonora had been so determined to let Davina know her place in the world, and yet somehow she could never get used to it.
Davina Marfont was the niece of an attorney, an orphan who had been taken in at a young age, and she did not need to be continually reminded of the fact. Her uncle never once let her forget it as it was.
“Oh, thank you kindly, Davina,” Cordelia said, looking somewhat uncomfortable as she accepted the drink that had been silently proffered. Lady Eleonora made no such thanks but rather took the drink without even looking at Davina.
“So, where is this dreadful little poetry gathering of yours then? At the home of that withered spinster whom you are so fond of?”
“Eleonora, that is unkind. Miss Nelson is a very learned woman and has been very kind to me over the years. I wish you would not come in here with such cruelty on your tongue.”
Regency Romance Collection: Regency Fire: The Historical Regency Romance Complete Series (Books 1-5) Page 13
