Lady Lorena’s Spinster’s Society ( The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

  Zed grinned. “Best offer I’ve had in years.”

  Lorena shook her head. “But I don’t even have the funds to pay him half.”

  Aunt Tilda stared at Lorena and turn turned back to Zed. “Just the hot meal and the bed then.”

  “Second best offer I’ve had all year,” Zed went on, undeterred by the fact that he’d never see a shilling.

  “Excellent!” Aunt Tilda cried.

  “I don’t think this is legal,” Lorena said.

  Aunt Tilda stared at Lorena and said, “Well, living without staff can’t be legal either, darling.” And she gave Lorena a look that said, trust me, Aunt Tilda knows best. It was a look Lorena had gotten often whenever Aunt Tilda was around.

  Aunt Tilda, Lorena’s mother had always said, was trouble.

  But looking at Aunt Tilda, Lorena felt warmth spread in her chest. She wrapped her arms around her.

  “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Aunt Tilda, who Lorena had always known to give wonderful hugs, gave one to Lorena at that very moment. “There, there, dear. Aunt Tilda will make everything better. You’ll see.”

  Lorena wasn’t sure she’d make the situation better, but she was sure that Aunt Tilda could offer some distraction.

  Aunt Tilda began to guide Lorena into the drawing room. All that was left of the room were two chairs and a couch. They both took the couch and Aunt Tilda grabbed her hands. Sometimes, Lorena was stunned by just how beautiful her aunt was. Tilda had married during her first season at the age of fifteen and had born Maura at sixteen, which made Aunt Tilda thirty and five and more gorgeous than ever.

  “Let me solve all your problems,” Aunt Tilda began. “First, we’ll need a maid, so at least there will be someone to fetch tea for us. Then we’ll need to get you out of that gray and into a different color.”

  Lorena laughed and said, “Actually—”

  “And then we will find you a husband,” Aunt Tilda went on as she gazed around the room. “A wealthy one in fact.”

  “No,” Lorena quickly said, her heart constricting. “After everything that has happened, I refuse to marry.”

  Tilda frowned at her. “But you’re only twenty and much too beautiful to—”

  “No,” Lorena quickly said as she crossed to her window. This side of her house looked out at her brother’s. She’d noticed when he’d closed his windows and her heart had broken. Part of her knew it a good idea to sell the house but it was a gift from her mother and Lorena wished to keep it, no matter what it cost. She’d gone into mourning for a year after her parents’ death, only to return to society and cause the only man she’d ever truly loved to hate her.

  She knew both emotions were irrational. Extreme under the circumstances. They’d set London on fire with all the mishaps that happened when they were in the same vicinity. How could someone love another with just one look? But then Lorena remembered the way he’d looked at her that first time. She’d never seen a man look at her that way before. It was so… possessive.

  But he’d not looked at her that way after pulling her from the flames that evening.

  And he never would again.

  Her only hope was to seek his forgiveness.

  Lorena said, “I think my first priority would be to figure my way out of my current situation with Lord Ashwick.” Even saying his name caused her pain.

  “Lorena, truly. You can’t seriously be considering the life of a spinster. When I saw that Miss Sophia Taylor had written it into the gossip column this morning, I thought it untrue. Please tell this is not true.”

  “It is,” she said, turning back to her aunt. Though she dearly wished that Miss Taylor hadn’t been eavesdropping on her conversation with Genie at Ashwick’s party. Lorena had not been completely convinced of her words, but after the fire, she very much was. “I’ll not marry, Aunt Tilda, and I don’t wish to speak of it anymore.”

  Tilda pursed her lips and said, “Very well, now your clothes.”

  Lorena looked down at her gray dress and back at her aunt. “All I have are mourning and after-mourning clothes. Everything before then no longer fits.” And even if it did, it was no longer fashionable. Lorena hated to admit that she’d gained weight since her parents’ deaths and fought to secure every button over her bosom each morning. She was also wider in her hips, and her stomach was slightly rounded. A good corset would see to that, but Lorena had none of those either. “My clothes will have to do.”

  When Aunt Tilda opened her mouth, Lorena gave her a look declaring the conversation over.

  Then her aunt shut her mouth, smiled, and said, “Oh, very well. Now, what did you have in mind as it pertains to Lord Ashwick, dear?”

  “Well,” Lorena began. “I had thought to hire a man to find out who actually started the fire but then I remembered that I don’t have the money.”

  Aunt Tilda frowned and straightened in her chair. “You mean, you didn’t start the fire?”

  “No,” Lorena stated firmly.

  “You better tell me everything,” her aunt said with a stern look.

  Lorena thought back on the night of the fire. “I was in the hallway with Genie, admiring Lord Ashwick’s medieval armor, when her skirt tore. We were on our way to the lady’s drawing room for repairs. Then we spotted a man run into a room up ahead.”

  “What room?” Aunt Tilda said.

  “It was the informal dining room,” Lorena said.

  “What did you do?” Tilda asked, leaning forward.

  “We followed him,” she stated, and to this day, Lorena had no idea why she had. It had been impulsive, but the moment she’d seen the man at a full run, she’d found herself intrigued. She’d always been a very curious girl, but until that moment, she’d never truly acted on it.

  Tilda’s eyes widened. “Then what happened?”

  “We ran, but Genie’s dress became caught on one of the armored knights, so I had to go alone. I saw the man jump through the window and at his departure, he knocked over a candelabra, sending the entire tablecloth into flames.” She remembered just how quickly the fire had spread, eating at the carpet before it crawled toward the walls. “Everything happened in seconds.”

  “Did you see the man’s face?” Tilda asked.

  “No, because…” Lorena trailed off.

  “Because?” Tilda prompted, moving closer.

  “He wore a white mask.”

  Tilda frowned.

  “It was a ghost.” Maura sat in a chair a few feet away from them with her hands resting on her lap. Her eyes reflected nothing about their conversation or her statement. Instead, she held herself as though she spoke of the most natural thing in the world. Maura had been seeing ghosts since she was nine, which was why her father had sent her away.

  Laura smiled at her and said, “Perhaps.” Then she looked over at Tilda and caught her aunt smiling at her.

  Aunt Tilda said, “Have you told Lord Ashwick you didn’t do it?”

  “Yes,” Laura cried. “On the night of the fire, I told him, but he didn’t believe me.” Then she reddened and said, “It was actually Ashwick who pulled me from the flames.”

  “Did you mention the man in the mask to him?” Tilda asked next.

  Laura shook her head. “But I did to Francis, and that did not go over well. He insists I’m lying.”

  “That’s not in your nature,” Tilda said with a frown.

  “Ashwick plans retribution,” Lorena said. “I must find the man responsible.”

  “Then that is what we shall do,” Tilda declared, always ready to get into one thing or another.

  Lorena grinned. “Yes, but I haven’t the money to hire—”

  “No.” Tilda shook her head. “You and I will find the man ourselves,” she declared. Then she added, “And Maura, of course.”

  “Yes.” Maura sighed and straightened in her chair, a smile on her face. “I know where all the ghosts hide.” Despite ten years in Bedlam, and no matter what the doctors told her, she stood firmly by her be
liefs.

  Lorena pressed her lips together. This was already shaping up to be a very bad idea. “Aunt Tilda, I think it’s best—”

  “Darling,” Aunt Tilda said. “You just told me you had no desire to marry and, while your reputation is immaculate, the ton has done nothing to help you out of your dire situation. Trust me when I say that their opinions of you do not matter.”

  “You’ve never cared for their opinions,” Lorena told her. Aunt Tilda was married to a renowned explorer who was a close friend to the king, but Lorena had never seen the woman carry herself as a woman to knew royalty should. She frequented the most risqué of places and wore the most extravagant clothing. Her husband, the earl, rarely said anything to her, but Maura had always been between them.

  There was a knock at the door and Zed shouted, “I’ll get it.”

  Maura gave a short laugh.

  Lorena and Tilda just smiled.

  Butlers didn’t need to announce they would get the door, that was simply what they did.

  “Oh, Lord Ashwick!” Zed shouted. “Good to see you again!”

  Lorena’s eyes widened and her body rocked back from the blow. Lord Ashwick was at her door. He’d come for her.

  A hand landed on Lorena’s, and she looked up to see her aunt.

  “Let’s go,” Aunt Tilda said. “We’ll find the real criminal before Lord Ashwick can find you.”

  Lorena liked that idea. “Yes. Let’s.”

  Tilda led the way, having grown up in the house, and Lorena and a giggling Maura followed. If Lord Ashwick wished to see her, he would have to wait.

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  CHAPTER SIX

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  Lorena jumped when a hand slid from the small of her back and gripped her hip. And before she even turned her head to see who it was, she knew.

  Ashwick said, “The next time you scheme to hide from me, inform your butler. He all but led me in your direction.”

  Lorena frowned and thought that a very good idea. Next time, she would inform her butler. Then she looked away from him, no longer able to stare at his face without slipping into her emotions. She’d found it almost impossible to look at him and not try to look for the faint sunspots or follow the slope of his nose.

  Ashwick moved closer, pressing his strong body into hers, his grip tightening at her side. She loathed just how well she thought they fit together and looked around at the crowd.

  Everyone was standing close on the sidewalk, watching as the men broke down the wood and brick where Ashwick’s townhouse had once stood. Everyone was so close that Lorena was almost sure no one could see the way Ashwick held her so intimately. Still, she fought, but he would not relinquish his hold.

  He spoke low and said, “I invited you to a party. You avoided me and then proceeded to gain my attention by setting the entire house on fire.”

  “I did not avoid you,” she lied.

  He glanced at her. “You did.”

  She had. She still wanted to.

  Still, she went on. “You were quite busy when I arrived, what with half the unmarried women of society surrounding you.” Though if she was being fair, it wasn’t his fault he was beautiful. If Lorena was thinner and more ladylike, she might have fit in better. But instead, she and Genie had skirted the halls to avoid polite conversation. And Ashwick.

  Lorena had only agreed to attend because Genie thought it time for her to come out of mourning. Yet even then, Lorena had worn gray. “I didn’t wish to be rude and interrupt,” she finally said.

  “So you believed it better to ignore the man who’d invited you in the first place?”

  “Your mother’s name was on the invitation. I spoke to her.” And the countess, in no uncertain terms, made it clear that she didn’t care for Lorena’s penniless state. She’d even brought up the debacle of her debut.

  Yet another reason it had been a good idea to avoid Ashwick. There was no point in loving a man you couldn’t have.

  His next question startled her. “Why are you not getting married?”

  Lorena was baffled by the question and the abruptness of it. “How did you hear?”

  “It was in the papers this morning.” His eyes held no kindness when he looked at her.

  “But it was your brother who told me. I was at his house this morning. You should sell your home and move in with your brother.”

  Lorena narrowed her eyes and prayed her pain was hidden by her anger. He didn’t care that she was off the market. He wanted her. He only cared for Francis.

  She supposed she was doing a horrible job of hiding just how badly his words had bruised her. The hand that held her gave her side a small caress before settling back against her. “Forgive me. I forget it was your mother’s house. I know how close you were to her.” His gray eyes softened.

  “Yes,” Lorena whispered, trying to ignore the warmth that spread through her body, starting from where his fingers held her. Her mother’s death hadn’t been the reason she’d been upset. She was startled by his gentleness as well as his words.

  Perhaps he did care about her, but not as deeply as she wished.

  “You and I need to have a talk,” he said, breaking the silence and placing the fear back in her.

  Her heart leaped, and her stomach plummeted. Thankfully, her voice gave none of this away. “I wish you would believe me when I tell you that I didn’t burn your house to the ground.”

  “We’ll discuss that, but first we must discuss Mr. Sudworth. He is not fit to be your butler. He’s a drunk.”

  Lorena placed a hand on his side and tried to push away, but his hold was too firm, so she gave up. “Well, I like Mr. Sudworth.” She paused then added, “He’s willing to work for a meal and a bed. It’s all I can afford. Also, I like his smile. He’s quite charming. My home could use some charm.”

  “I’ll pay for you to have real staff… and charm, if you wish.”

  Her eyes widened, and she frowned. His offer was too much, and she doubted he made it in friendship. “So, I can have just another reason to be in your debt? I think not.”

  Something flickered in his gray eyes before he whispered, “I’m glad to see you understand that you very much are in my debt.”

  Lorena looked away. “Well, I’ll be out of it soon.”

  “How so?”

  Lorena didn’t answer, knowing he wouldn’t like what she had to say.

  “Lorena,” he called, his breath brushing her face.

  Lorena closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. She said, “I’m surprised you’ve dared to stand so close to me, seeing as something catastrophic is bound to happen.” Then she opened her eyes to see his reaction.

  “It’s only been seconds,” he told her. “We’ve managed to have a few seconds of peace every now and again.” And he said it with a grin.

  Lorena’s throat constricted. He was much too handsome for her senses.

  Then she felt his hand leave her side right before Aunt Tilda spoke.

  “Lorena, this way. We…” Aunt Tilda’s voice fell away, and she pressed her lips together as her eyes met Ashwick’s. She looked so guilty in her silence. Then she tried to hide it under one of her famous smiles. “Lord Ashwick.”

  “Mrs. Shaw.” Ashwick leaned over and bowed before her hand, yet managed to still remain in Lorena’s space. When she tried to move away, his fingers pinched the back of her dress, keeping her anchored to her spot on the street. His hand was hidden by their bodies.

  Aunt Tilda looked around. “How strange to see you here.”

  “You mean in front of my own home?” Ashwick asked.

  Aunt Tilda pressed her lips together again.

  “At least,” Ashwick went on, “what used to be my home?”

  Aunt Tilda nodded. “Well, we must be off.”

  “And are you two alone?” Ashwick asked.

&
nbsp; A small hand lifted from behind Tilda, Maura showed herself but said nothing.

  Lorena introduced them, and she saw when Ashwick recognized her name. Everyone knew about Mad Maura.

  “Perhaps I can offer escort,” Ashwick said. “Three beautiful women shouldn’t be alone.”

  Tilda smiled, falling easily for the compliment. Maura smiled as well, though Maura seemed unusually happy.

  “No,” Lorena said quickly. She couldn’t find the man who’d burned down Ashwick’s home with him following her about. He’d try and stop her and she would owe him whatever he wanted… and she feared that what he wanted was her home. “We’re perfectly fine on our own.”

  “I insist,” Ashwick said. Using the hand that was already at the small of her back, he began to direct her into his carriage that that sat on the street.

  Lorena looked at the carriage and wanted to run.

  Aunt Tilda made an exasperated sound, making it appear as though the carriage were her savior. “Oh, how kind of you to offer us a ride, my lord.” And she allowed the footman to help her in without another world.

  Maura followed.

  Lorena turned to Ashwick. “I believe—”

  “After you,” he whispered.

  “Ashwick—”

  “Lorena.” His eyes narrowed.

  She licked her lips and tried again. “My lord—”

  He leaned forward and said, “I can either carry you in or you can climb in yourself.”

  She frowned, hating it when he or any of the Nashwood men lorded her about. “I don’t like those options.”

  “They are all you have,” he told her firmly and took a step toward her.

  “Very well,” Lorena said before climbing into the carriage. The sooner they were on their way, the better. Eventually, Ashwood would have to go wherever it was that he was sleeping.

  With her back to Ashwick, she quickly looked at Aunt Tilda and whispered, “Where are we going? We can’t take him with us.”