A Spinster for a Spy: Book 1: Lily - Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters: The Elbury Bouquet)

by Arietta Richmond

  Trent swallowed hard, again.

  “I hope that she has some sense of it, Your Grace, although I admit that I have been a doubtful fool, and have not had the courage to declare myself to her, yet. I came here today intending to remedy that.”

  The Duke gave a short bark of laughter.

  “Then I won’t keep you from it, Canterford. And yes, you have my blessing in this.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  Relief rushed through Trent, leaving him almost giddy. As he turned to go, the Duke spoke again, his voice soft, and full of a loving care that shook Trent to the core.

  “Convince her, Canterford, make her happy. You are the first man she has ever truly seemed to care for in the least, and I would not see her hurt, or living her life as a spinster, and lonely.”

  Trent turned back for a moment, and bowed deeply, saying nothing, then left the room. Marks was waiting, and showed him through to the parlour, where Lily waited.

  <<<< O >>>>

  Lily had been pacing, waiting for Lord Canterford’s arrival. Then, she had heard the door, and voices, and had frozen in place, her heart pounding. But he had not been shown in. Instead, she had heard the sound of her father’s study door closing. Was Lord Canterford talking to her father? About her? Could she hope that was true? She began pacing again, her fingers twisting at the ribbon of the bookmark in the book she had been reading, which she carried with her, pointlessly.

  The spring sunshine poured through the window, and her pacing took her in and out of the pool of light. She barely noticed it, or anything else in the room. Instead, she listened for the sound of her father’s study door. What were they saying in there?

  Nell, sitting on the chair in the corner, bathed in the sunlight, ignored her mistress completely, already drifting towards sleep. Lily ignored Nell. The clock on the mantel ticked.

  Finally, after what Lily thought was an eternity, but must only have been a few minutes, the sound of a door came again, followed by footsteps coming towards the parlour. She turned, and went to the couch, dropping her book onto the side table, then smoothed her skirts down nervously.

  Marks showed Lord Canterford into the room. Their eyes met. For Lily, time slowed to a crawl. She suspected, in that moment, that her feelings were writ clear upon her face. He came forward, and she stepped to meet him, her eyes never leaving his. He took her hand, and bowed over it, pressing a kiss to it as he did. Warmth flowed through her, and she quivered with the sensation of his touch. The reticence was gone.

  “My Lady…”

  “Lord Canterford…”

  They both spoke at once, and stopped, frozen in place for a second, before laughing nervously. The laughter eased the moment, and a wide smile spread across his face.

  “Lord Canterford – do, please, be seated.”

  They settled on the couch together, as they had so many times before. He turned to her, and held out the small parcel he was carrying. The wrapping was an exquisite piece of silk, a work of art in itself, with exotic Chinese patterns woven into it. He waited, silent, as she examined it.

  “Unwrap it, my Lady. The wrapping, whilst beautiful, is not the important piece.”

  Lily did so, slowly, enjoying the feel of the fabric under her fingers. When the fabric fell away, she stared, and her fingers clutched the book tightly.

  She lifted her eyes to his.

  “Thank you. I did not know that it had been released yet. This… this would not exist, if you had not…”

  She found herself unable to continue. He leant forward, and gently lifted her chin, then kissed away the single tear that slid down her cheek.

  “It would have. I am absolutely certain that you would have found a way to make it happen. You are far too stubborn, and clever, to have let anything defeat you. And those characteristics – those things about you, are what makes me love you – far more than just your beautiful appearance.”

  She looked at him – had he just said…? Had he used that word she had not dared to hope for? He had, she had distinctly heard him say that he loved her. For a moment, it was too much to take in, then a tiny giggle rose in her throat. He looked at her startled.

  “Oh, oh I am sorry, I am not laughing at you, I am laughing because I had determined, today, that no matter what you might say or do, I would tell you the truth of my feelings, would tell you that I love you! And here you have said this, said that you love me – words that I have hoped to hear these last few months, and had almost given up all hope of ever hearing!”

  He pulled her to him, and kissed her lips, softly at first, but deepening into something richer, more passionate, which said, more eloquently than words ever could, just how he felt about her. She melted against him, returning his kiss with equal feeling, her tongue tracing the line of his lips, as his traced hers, inducing delicious shudders throughout her whole body.

  When they drew apart, his eyes shone – she had never seen him look happier.

  “Then perhaps you will be pleased to know that I spoke to your father, and he has given his blessing to me courting you.”

  “I am delighted, but…” her eyes sparkled with mischief, “isn’t that what you have been doing for the last few months? Whatever we may have said, or not said…”

  “I do believe, my darling Lily, that it is.”

  “Then… might I be a truly scandalous woman, and suggest something?”

  “And what might you wish to suggest?”

  “That, as we have already spent time on the whole courting process, we move on, and proceed to the next logical step…?”

  He laughed – a sound full of delight at her suggestion, and her boldness.

  “My, my, darling Lily, did you just ask me to marry you?” Lily blushed, and chewed at her lip a moment, then nodded. “You are a true delight! If that is what you want, then the answer is yes. But let me do this the officially expected way – darling Lily, will you marry me?”

  “Yes, oh yes, I will marry you!”

  He pulled her into his arms again, and kissed her – a kiss which swept her away from that room, from any sense of anything but his lips on hers, and his arms around her. Eventually, they drew apart slightly, and she let her head fall to his shoulder, revelling in being held, in being loved, by this man.

  “Perhaps we should go and tell your father? I do believe that he will not be disturbed by our rather precipitous decision.”

  Lily looked at him, and wondered, again, just what her father had said to him.

  “Yes, I think that we should, and then we need to tell my mother, and my sisters, and brother. Be warned, we will almost certainly be swept away by their enthusiasm.”

  “I’ll just have to get used to that, won’t I.”

  “You will indeed.”

  As they rose from the couch, hand in hand, Nell started from her doze, and looked at them, wide-eyed and confused. They refrained from laughing until they had left the room, and closed the door behind them.

  Epilogue

  By the time that the day of the wedding arrived, four short weeks later, Lily felt as if she had no control left over anything in her life – save her poetry. Even that had suffered with her mother arranging appointments at a time of day when Lily would normally be locked away, writing.

  Swept away was rather an understatement.

  She should, she supposed, have expected it – as the first of the siblings to marry, every moment of her mother’s frustration at the last few years of hoping and waiting for such an event was now to be recompensed by the grand affair that her wedding had become.

  But now, the day had arrived, and everything had settled into the strangest stillness and calm.

  She had dressed, with all her sisters chattering around her, and impeding Nell’s every move, with the sense of living in a fairytale, where the princess was transformed, magically.

  Now, her sisters had been chased out of the room, and Lily stood, gazing at herself in the mirror. Her gown was a soft golden cream, covered with g
littering sheer golden lace.

  It sparkled in the light, with thousands of tiny gems which had been sewn to its surface. Her hair glittered also, with a mesh of gem encrusted lace woven into it. She had never imagined that she could look so beautiful – for she had to admit that she did.

  The dress was a masterpiece – she had thought, when it had been revealed that Madame Beaumarais, the modiste, was actually the Marquise de Beaumarais, that she would never have the chance to own a dress made by the remarkable Frenchwoman. But Bella had asked the Marquise, as a friend, if she would consent to adding Lily to her very limited group of special customers (for the Marquise was another woman who had refused to give up her business, no matter what society might think), and she had agreed.

  Lily’s head spun from the dizzying thought that, in a few short hours’ time, she would be the Marchioness of Canterford, would walk out of the church with Trent – for she had learned, since that moment of their proposal, that his forename was Trent – as his wife.

  Just thinking of it made her warm all over. She longed for his kiss, for the freedom to touch him, every day. She closed her eyes, and simply stood there, waiting for the moment when she would be called to go down to the carriage.

  <<<< O >>>>

  Trent stood in St George’s, awaiting the arrival of his bride.

  The church was filled with members of society, all come to see the first of the Elbury children wed. Their wedding seemed to have become the social affair of the Season, and Trent felt remarkably exposed, simply standing there. It was as if the entirety of the ton were there, to judge his suitability to marry Lady Lily.

  He pushed the thought aside – he could not allow himself to even consider caring what they thought. All that mattered was Lily, and the fact that she loved him, that she would, today, become his wife. Her family all filed in, and he tensed – the moment had come. Then all coherent thought left him.

  She stepped through the door on her father’s arm, and the morning sunlight through the high windows caught her, turning her gown to glittering golden fire. It was as if an angel had come among them. He could not breath, could not think, could only watch in awe as she came towards him.

  That sense of awe never left him, throughout the ceremony, as he somehow managed to say the right words, at the right time. And then it was done – the fateful words were spoken, and they were pronounced man and wife.

  From that point, it was all a swirl of people congratulating them – somehow, they managed to leave the church, to make their way through a cascade of thrown flower petals, and into the open carriage that awaited them. Throughout, their hands remained intertwined. Once the carriage moved off, taking them back to Elbury House for the wedding breakfast, Trent pulled Lily into his arms and kissed her, delighting in the feel of her in his arms – had it been up to him, he would have spirited her off to Canterford House immediately, but the Duchess had insisted on a grand affair of a wedding breakfast.

  He would simply have to endure it.

  <<<< O >>>>

  The day, Lily thought, was perfect, in every way but one. That one was the fact that she would have to wait many hours to be alone with Trent.

  She stood by his side, in the ballroom at Elbury House, and watched the crowd of people before her. Her mother really had invited everyone they knew. Her family seemed to be everywhere, but Trent’s mother and sister were as quiet as he was – they spoke with some friends, but generally seemed content to sit to one side and watch. Lily had only met them a very few times yet. But she had formed a firm liking for them immediately.

  Lady Sophia, his sister, was just turned eighteen, and had not come out this Season, it being so soon after the end of their mourning for his father. She was dark haired and pale skinned, with a wonderful smile. Such a contrast to her own sisters, all of whom had fair to mid brown shades of hair.

  Across the room, she caught sight of Hyacinth, standing talking with a group of people, including the Duke and Duchess of Melton. Close to Hyacinth stood Lord Kevin Loughbridge – Hyacinth had, Lily remembered, danced with him quite a number of times in the last few months – could he be developing a tendre for Hyacinth?

  What an interesting thought. Her rather acid tongued sister had a tendency to scare gentlemen away, so his continuing attention to her was most notable. Lily leaned against Trent a little, and spoke softly to him.

  “There, near my sister Hyacinth – Lord Kevin – do you know him at all? For I begin to suspect that my sister has developed an interest in him.”

  Trent looked where she indicated, and thought for a moment before replying.

  “I know a little of him.”

  “What manner of man is he?”

  “From all that I have heard, he is a solid young man, and well liked – I have heard nothing bad of him, ever, beyond the fact that as a boy he had a talent for pranks, which he often carried out with the assistance of the now Duke of Melton.”

  Lily looked at him, a little startled.

  “I struggle to imagine the Duke playing pranks!”

  “Ten years at war can sober a man’s character, rather, I expect.”

  “Oh! I had not thought of that – you are right. Well, if Lord Kevin is well liked, and has the courage to face my sister’s sharp tongue, then I wish him well of it. May Hyacinth end up as happy as I am, at this moment!”

  “A kind wish – and one which I echo – if he cares for her, may he come to be as happy as I am at this moment.”

  At that point the orchestra struck up for the first dance, and Trent offered Lily his arm, to lead her to the floor. She went willingly, and let the magic of dancing with him drive all thought of Hyacinth from her mind.

  <<<< O >>>>

  As they progressed down the dance, Trent noted that Lord Setford was also dancing – with an elegant dark-haired older woman Trent had seen Setford speaking with at a number of recent events. Was she the one Setford had passingly referred to, in that rather pivotal conversation, just a short month before? The one who was changing Setford’s own view of the world? Perhaps so – they looked well together. They passed in the dance, and Trent raised an eyebrow at Setford, who simply smiled, giving no hint of his thoughts. Typical of the man. Then Trent brought his attention back to Lily, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away – nothing mattered but her.

  Hours later, as the guests finally began to depart, they settled onto a richly padded couch in one corner of the room. Lily looked up at him, seeming tired, yet supremely happy. Her voice was very soft when she spoke, yet her eyes lit with a hint of mischief.

  “So, my dear spy, will I make a suitable wife? How shall I assist your endeavours, in exploring the hidden secrets of the ton? Shall I become a terrible gossip, simply so that I can listen to what all of the others wish to gossip about, and bring you the details of what they reveal?”

  Trent gave a soft laugh, and brushed his lips over hers, unable to resist tasting her. She flushed delightfully.

  “If it entertains you, my darling – I am quite certain that, with your impressive skills in clandestine correspondence and subterfuge, you will discover the things that they most wish to keep hidden. But whether any of that will be of significance to Crown and Country is another matter entirely. Still… salacious tales of what is going on in secret, in the bedchambers of the aristocracy might make… amusing hearing.”

  Lily blushed at his words, and he suspected that her imagination was running wild. He raised his hand to stroke her cheek softly, and she leaned into his touch, her lips curving into a smile. Then she turned her head, and pressed a kiss to his palm.

  “I think, my dear husband, that I feel the need to start a ladies society – perhaps ‘the Mayfair Ladies Poetry Appreciation Society’. It would amuse me to have them discussing my own poems, as well as those of more famous poets. And who knows what I might learn from the gossip that would inevitably happen, over tea and cakes?”

  Trent looked at her and nodded. It was, he thought, a rather brilliant i
dea, yet another indication of just how clever his wife really was. She yawned, and looked at him, embarrassed. He pulled her against him, her head fitting perfectly on his shoulder, tucked under his chin.

  “You have a perfect right to be tired, my darling, this getting married is an exhausting business. Perhaps, we should leave your mother to see to the final guests, and slip away? Canterford House is barely minutes from here, and my carriage can be ready quickly. We can deal with everything else tomorrow.”

  She sighed, a sound replete with contentment.

  “Oh yes, please, let us do that.”

  Trent kissed her brow, and went to arrange it.

  When they entered the carriage, Lily was still yawning, but when he folded his arms around her, and kissed her with all of the passion that he felt, she responded strongly.

  When they drew apart, she looked up at him with shining eyes.

  “Perhaps, husband, I am not quite so tired as I had thought….”

  The End

  I hope that you enjoyed

  ‘A Spinster for a Spy’

  You’ll find a taste of the next book in the series,

  ‘A Vixen for a Viscount’,

  just after the ‘About the Author’ section of this book.

  About the Author

  Arietta Richmond has been a compulsive reader and writer all her life. Whilst her reading has covered an enormous range of topics, history has always fascinated her, and historical novels have been amongst her favourite reading.

  She has written a wide range of work, from business articles and other non-fiction works (published under a pen name) but fiction has always been a major part of her life. Now, her Regency Historical Romance books are finally being released. The Derbyshire Set is comprised of 10 novels (8 released so far). The ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ series is comprised of 17 novels, with the last having just been released.

  She also has a standalone longer novel shortly to be released, and four other series of novels in development. She lives in Australia, and when not reading or writing, likes to travel, and to see in person the places where history happened.