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

by Charlotte Stone

  Lorena, while reading the article, heard them talking about her, but looked up when the room fell into silence. Then she turned to the door and saw nine gorgeous men standing in the entryway with the most unfriendly expressions on their faces. Ashwick was not with them and she sighed. “I suppose it is safe to say that you all read the paper as well?”

  Lady May gasped and whispered, “The Men of Nashwood.” Her eyes took on a dreamy look. Gone was the disdain of only moments ago.

  Morris said, “My name is in that article.” He used his I am the Duke of Cort voice instead of his I’m your brother Morris voice. This was not good.

  She looked down and spotted it immediately, then looked at Lorena. “Yes, I believe it is.” In fact, every member of the Men of Nashwood had been named in the article, though it didn’t say that any of them had done anything wrong. “It only lists you as a member of the Men of Nashwood, which you are.” Thus, the paper had committed no crime.

  “Lorena,” Francis called. “This ends now.”

  Lorena sighed and said, “But I haven’t done anything.”

  “Lord Francis,” Lady May said with a wicked grin. “It seems like forever since I’ve seen you.”

  Francis turned to her and bowed. “A pleasure, Lady May.”

  Lady May’s eyes filled with a different sort of pleasure.

  Genie, who was seated next to Lorena, was staring at Lady May with a dangerous glimmer in her eyes.

  “And Lord Cort,” Lady May said. “I sent you an invitation to my party. Why did you refuse me?” Her eyes said he’d refused more than just her invitation.

  Lorena frowned.

  Has the woman forgotten she’s married?

  Sophia lifted a brow and pursed her lips. Lorena needed no words to accompany her expression. It all but said I told you so.

  “I was busy,” Morris replied in his most gentle tone.

  “Too busy for a party?” Lady May’s eyes darkened.

  “May,” Lady Ashwick snapped. “We are not here to speak to the men, but to Lorena.” Then her eyes turned to the men and she said, “If you would excuse us, gentlemen.”

  Lorena turned to the men and begged them with her eyes not to go. Lady May, she was willing to play verbal swords with, but not Lady Ashwick. Lorena still feared her. She hoped she could get the lady to accept her and, perhaps, find a way for her to accept her son.

  Francis met her eyes and made it very clear that he wouldn’t be excused when he crossed the room and took the chair next to Maura. “Seeing as I am her brother, I believe that I will stay for this conversation.”

  Lady Ashwick looked flustered by her brother’s audacity, but even she knew she had no power over a duke, poor or not.

  Morris said, “And seeing as I am much like a brother to the lady, I insist on staying as well.” Then he took a position at Lorena’s back behind the chair.

  Lorena grinned.

  Not to be outdone, the others took positions behind Lorena’s couch and she smiled brightly.

  Sophia smiled and said, “It must feel lovely being you.”

  Lorena’s heart warmed, and she admitted to herself that at that moment, she was very glad to be herself. She had very little money, but she had friends she could trust.

  Lady Ashwick frowned as her eyes moved over the men. “What I wish to discuss is better done with only Lady Lorena.”

  Lorena stilled.

  “We’re not leaving,” Julius said.

  “Lord Darvess,” Lady May purred at him and Lorena had to wonder if she’d heard the disdain at all.

  More footsteps sounded from the doorway and Lorena stood.

  “Ashwick.” She started over to him, staring into his eyes, and it was only when she was a foot away that she realized what she’d done. She hesitated.

  Ashwick took her hand and pulled her the final foot toward him. Then his face, which had been full of shadow, brightened into a playful grin. “Lady Lorena,” he whispered like a caress before taking her hand and pressing a kiss on her fingers.

  Their eyes held.

  She smiled. She missed him.

  She wanted to ask about last night, but knew she couldn’t speak to him about it in front of the others, so instead, she pressed her lips together.

  Ashwick’s smile widened and he turned to the rest of the room.

  His mother spoke before he could. “Ashwick, have you seen the papers? It’s repulsive.”

  Sophia mumbled something that vaguely sounded like, “You’re repulsive.”

  Francis, who was closest to her, began to cough wildly.

  The other men of the group, who’d not been far, quickly became fascinated with the roof and furniture.

  “Mother,” Ashwick began, tightening his hold on Lorena’s hand. “I know you’re not here to pester my bride.” The smile slipped from his face. His cool gray eyes were so cold that Lorena was tempted to call a footman to start a fire… one that would begin and remain in the fireplace, of course.

  Lady Ashwick straightened and visibly swallowed before she lifted her chin. Then she stood and said, “Come, May, we’ve other calls to make.” Lorena hoped she was the only one who noticed how the countess addressed her niece informally, but never her son.

  She knew she wasn’t when Ashwick’s hold on her became almost painful.

  When Lady Ashwick passed them, Ashwick spoke in a voice that could only be heard by Lorena, his mother, and his cousin. “I have confessed my feelings for Lady Lorena. I have expressed my intentions toward her, so let there be no misunderstanding. If you come near Lorena again with anything less than good tidings, or either of us hears you slander her name, the mercy I’ve shown you since father’s death will be lifted.”

  Lady Ashwick stared at him as though she were seeing something else entirely. Someone she’d not only never met, but never knew existed.

  Lorena hadn’t known this side of Ashwick existed either and placed a hand on Ashwick’s arm.

  “You’re just like your father,” Lady Ashwick hissed. “It’s why I don’t like you, but you know that already.”

  Lorena felt those words settle in her bones and her anger came out before she could stop herself. “Then consider yourself uninvited to the wedding.” And she’d not whispered her words in the slightest.

  Lady Ashwick was taken back. She narrowed her eyes. “He is my son. How dare—”

  “I do dare,” Lorena cut in, her voice quickly growing with her rage. She no longer cared if Lady Ashwick liked her. She could see that to be liked by the woman meant Lorena would have to be evil, like Lady May. “You may have given birth to his man, but you are not his mother, and thank God for it, for where this man is good and kind, you, Lady Ashwick, are vile.”

  She heard the room take a breath.

  “Lorena,” Ashwick said.

  Lady Ashwick turned white. “What did you just call me?”

  “Vile,” Lorena said, as though she’d not heard Ashwick’s warning at all. “Abhorrent. Hateful. Malicious.”

  “Lorena,” her fiancé called a little louder.

  Lady Ashwick continued to turn white.

  Lorena was not finished. “Vicious. Foul.”

  “Lorena.” Ashwick’s arm went around her waist and pulled her away from his mother.

  “Repulsive.”

  Lady Ashwick stumbled back.

  Lorena finished with an anger so fierce that it brought tears to her eyes. “And be assured that while you sleep in a misery of your own making, he will know love. I will love him so deeply and with such complete desperation it will thoroughly vanquish the thought and bitter taste of your memory.”

  “Lorena,” Ashwick called again.

  “Never come near him again,” Lorena added.

  Lady Ashwick’s color returned swiftly and her face turned red.

  “Never,” Lorena warned with gritted teeth, with tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I will never let you hurt him again.”

  Lady May placed a hand on her aunt and began to
push her through the door.

  “Lorena.” Ashwick’s breath was at her ear.

  “Never,” Lorena called at the women, who were retreating quickly.

  Ashwick turned her around and said, “Be still, my love.”

  “Never,” she told him just as firmly as she’d spit it at his mother. Her flesh burned. She turned to look toward the door.

  Ashwick’s hand on her cheek forced her head back in his direction and it was only then, through her anger, that she noticed he had a smile on his face and there had been laughter in his voice when he’d called her.

  Lorena was still angry, however, and asked, “Have I told you that I love you, today?”

  “I think everyone knows now.” His hands moved from her waist to her hands and he chuckled.

  “Excellent,” Lorena said.

  Sudworth came into the room. “They are gone.”

  “Don’t ever let them in again,” Lorena told him. “Not for a shilling. Not even if they promise a pound.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he said with a grin, then bowed, and left.

  “Tell me there’s brandy in this house,” Morris commented. “I fear this will be all over London by afternoon.”

  “Not if my cousin heeds my warning,” Ashwick said.

  “Someone call for brandy?” Sudworth said, bringing in a decanter and glasses on a silver tray. Lorena wondered where it had come from. The brandy and the tray.

  Glasses were passed around and Sophia, while holding up her own, and being the only woman in the room to do so, said, “To Lady Lorena, who shows us all what it truly means to love and to be loved by her.” Her eyes were warm.

  “To Lady Lorena,” the men said.

  Francis grinned at her, winked, and tossed his glass back.

  Lorena turned to Ashwick. “I’ve a feeling we can expect a very serene engagement party.”

  Ashwick lifted a brow and, while still grinning, asked, “Serene? You and I, my love, are incapable of serene.”

  Lorena fell into laughter because it was true. The day had started as a disaster, but something good had come in the end. She could only hope every disaster they faced would end in triumph.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

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  The next morning, Lorena found herself summoned to her brother’s house. A summons that had held his seal and had been signed not ‘Francis,’ but ‘The Duke of Valdeston.’ This had frightened Lorena, but she’d quickly decided that perhaps her brother only wished to discuss her and Ashwick’s wedding contract.

  Keeping this in her mind, she’d happily dressed and was on her way. She did, however, pause when she made it to the door. A blue looking glass sat by the entrance, its frame gold with a carving that formed a wreath. It was so beautiful that Lorena’s eyes did not leave it until Sudworth spoke.

  “Ready, my lady?” he asked.

  She nodded and decided she would not leave her brother’s home until she had answers about the many objects that were appearing in her house. The silver tray, the painting, the statue. That morning, she’d also spotted a candelabra in the center of the small table in her room, sitting there as though it had always been there.

  She shook her head and left the house. Sudworth followed and she said, “I’m only going next door.”

  But when he didn’t stop, she simply allowed him to do as he wished. She was surprised when a butler opened the door, and further surprised when, as she walked through the house, she saw many people at work. Every inch of the house seemed to be in a state of transformation. There were at least two dozen servants she’d never seen, running to and fro. Large furniture was being carried from one room to another and in the center of it was Calvin, sporting a smile that was just as impressive as his suit.

  When he spotted her, he immediately moved to her side.

  “I’ve got her,” he told the butler and grabbed her elbow, leading her to the stairs.

  “Are you in charge of all of this?” Lorena asked.

  Calvin nodded, but when his eyes moved down to her, she noticed he no longer wore as bright a smile.

  She stilled at the landing and asked, “What’s the matter?”

  “We’ll discuss it in the sitting room.” He pushed her forward, forcing her to move.

  Lorena shook her head. “But I can’t join you in the sitting room. I’m to meet with Francis.”

  “Francis is there,” he told her. “They’re all waiting for you.”

  They?

  Lorena’s stomach turned. “Who are they?” She stopped again.

  Calvin stopped with her and his hazel eyes trapped her in his stare. He was not smiling at all now. “Come along.” He jerked her into motion and because of his strength, Lorena could not fight him.

  But she could be angry and ignore him. She’d done that a time or two.

  When they entered the sitting room, Lorena was surprised at just who was included in the ‘they’. The sitting room was a cold green and accented with dark wood and yellows. Because of the design of the house, a wall was lined with small bay windows with stained glass on the two at the ends, making them seem like secreted pockets for privacy, though they were still open to the entire room. Lorena had always felt the room strange, but so was the rest of the house. Francis was leaning against a desk in the back corner with Ashwick nearby. Morris and Julius were standing against the far wall toward the center of the room. Aaron and Franklin were on the wall opposite Francis, standing by the fireplace. But as if all of this wasn’t disturbing enough, sitting on the couch were Sophia, Genie, and Maura. Sophia in a chair on her own, looked quite upset, not at Lorena, she noted, but at the men. Genie, who was sitting with Maura on a couch, looked worried. Maura looked silently fascinated.

  Lorena jumped when Hugh and Rollo slipped into the room and Calvin closed the door behind them. She realized just how very trapped she was… and she also knew from the grim expressions on the faces around her, exactly how Lady Ashwick had felt when the men didn’t leave the room at her request yesterday.

  Her eyes turned to Francis and she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Sit,” he told her.

  Lorena’s neck straightened and her heart raced. She wanted to speak, but her throat chose that very moment to close on her, so she had no choice but to move toward the women and take a seat next to Genie. Immediately, Lorena’s hand was grabbed and she tried to speak once more.

  Morris beat her to it. “My name is in that article.”

  Lorena felt her entire body go tight. She’d forgotten about the article and had allowed herself to believe that the men had also forgotten about it.

  She looked around her, at all the four walls, and said, “Surely, none of your reputations have been ruined by this.”

  Julius laughed. “We spent years avoiding society. Do you know how many years it has been since any of us has gone to a ball?”

  “No,” Lorena said.

  “Three years,” Julius told her.

  Lorena blinked and after doing the calculations in her head, said, “You mean, the last ball you attended was my debut.”

  “And it was the last we intended to go to,” Morris told her.

  “And people knew never to invite us anywhere,” Calvin said.

  “Except for Lady May,” Julius grumbled.

  “Nevertheless,” this from Franklin. “We rarely received invitations.”

  “Until this morning,” Calvin told her.

  Lorena blinked at all of them and said, “Well, simply refuse them all.”

  Rollo, who was leaning against the door with his arms crossed, said, “It’s one thing to refuse one invitation,” his voice was gravelly, “but an entirely different venture to refuse hundreds.”

  “Hundreds?” Genie whispered in amazement.

  “And even worse is to refuse an invitation,” Cal
vin added, “after an article is printed that says we’ve been running around with three beautiful unmarried women. Do you know what this means?”

  Lorena decided to not speak about being called beautiful and said, “No.”

  “It means,” Morris told her, “that everyone assumes we are in the market for wives.”

  Lorena’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “When we've refused invitations in the past,” Francis informed her, “everyone knew that none of us were looking to marry.”

  Genie moved around in her chair.

  Francis went on, “So refusing an invitation is acceptable, but to refuse after that article will mean exile?”

  Exile. The word seemed a bit extreme to Lorena.

  “I thought you all hated society,” Lorena said. “Why would exile bother any of you?”

  “We are still members of parliament,” Morris told her. “Even as the most powerful homes of England, our power amongst our peers would dwindle if Society turned on us.”

  “Truly?” she asked.

  “There is power in numbers,” Francis told her. “Your society must cease to exist this afternoon.”

  “But Francis…”

  “I don’t want to attend balls,” he told her.

  “And I hate dancing,” this from Rollo, whose dark eyes Lorena found to be unsettling.

  “And pushy mothers,” Calvin added.

  “And pushy fathers,” Franklin went on.

  “And having to see my mother,” Morris completed. “You’ve had verbal fisticuffs with Lady Ashwick. You do not want to do fisticuffs with the Duchess of Cort. She would win.”

  Lorena didn’t wish to do fisticuffs with anyone’s mother, much less a duchess. She’d never met the Duchess of Cort, but from everything she’d heard, Lorena thought her lovely, so was inclined to believe Morris to be dramatic.

  She stood. “The society is not the issue.”

  “Lorena,” Francis warned.

  “You are the issues,” she told them.

  “Lorena?” Genie whispered. “Have you gone mad?” she added with a yank of her skirts, encouraging Lorena to sit.