Once Upon A Regency

by Samantha Grace

  He nodded and released her.

  Too bad. She rather liked being in his arms. She’d never been held in a man’s arms before and now understood what all the fuss and lectures were about. Any girl would be easily led astray by this Viking warrior-pirate-gentleman. Oh, dear! Could he tell what she was thinking?

  She suddenly felt quite awkward beside him, which was ridiculous since he was likely a commoner and she was a lady, albeit an impossibly disheveled one at the moment. Had her godmothers been home to help her dress, she might have been properly put together and already standing in the meadow with the other princesses chatting about the weather and how perfect it was today.

  Alas, the three darlings were off visiting an elderly relation—one she’d never heard of before—and weren’t around to help her out. Neither were their servants, for she had given all of them the entire weekend off to enjoy the fair. If they returned to the manor, it would only be to sleep.

  A warm breeze caressed her bare arms as she stood a moment longer staring at the stranger. “Um,” she mumbled, trying to think of something else to say.

  He arched an eyebrow, as though questioning why she was still standing beside him and not scampering away as she’d just indicated. She truly wished to be off, but her legs refused to cooperate. Very well, to be truthful, not a single limb or organ appeared to be cooperating.

  She turned away to avoid his steady gaze, pretending to concentrate on the soft rush of water in the distant stream as it meandered into Grasmere. Then she feigned fascination with the dazzling array of flowers on its bank, the vivid blue, gold, and pink petals daintily spread across the lush expanse of green grass beside the water’s edge.

  Finally, Winnie tipped her face to the sun, noting the yellow ball against a cloudless blue sky. “Glorious day,” she muttered, daring to glance at him once more. Still gorgeous! “Well, I really must be off.”

  The crown of forget-me-nots perched atop her unbound hair chose that moment to slip off her head and fall to the ground. Since the stranger was no longer looking at her but suddenly staring at the woods on the opposite side of the stream, she shrugged and bent to pick it up. She’d just dusted it off and placed it back on her head when she heard a soft growl emanating from those woods. “What is that sound?”

  “Trouble,” the stranger replied in a husky rumble, speaking to her for the first time. “Run. I’ll hold them off.”

  She turned toward the Kingsley manor house, but he caught her by the elbow and nudged her in the opposite direction. “No, to the May Fair. You’ll be safer amid the crowd.”

  Her heart caught in her throat. “What about you?”

  He withdrew the gleaming steel sword from its scabbard and twirled it as though it weighed no more than a delicate meadow flower. “I’ll find you once I’ve chased the demon away.”

  “Demon, indeed,” she muttered, for peering back at her through the silvery green leaves was what appeared to be a pair of blood-red eyes. In the next moment, she heard the crack and splinter of branches as the wild creature tore out of the woods and lunged straight for her. Why me? She let out a shriek, tripping over her own two feet as she backed away and fell in an unladylike sprawl on the ground.

  I’m a May princess! I can’t die today!

  She tried to roll to her feet and run, but the hem of her gown tangled in her delicate slippers and she was left thrashing on her back unable to get up as the foul-smelling thing came perilously close.

  “Hellfire! You’re a clumsy little thing,” the stranger muttered, obviously exasperated with her, although his voice was deep and remarkably comforting. “Stay down and don’t move.”

  He sliced his sword blade through the air with lethal precision as though experienced in battle. Had he fought against Napoleon on the Peninsula? No doubt he must have participated in several major naval battles or other perilous engagements, for this was a man who understood danger and knew how to meet it head on. Winnie closed her eyes and covered her head as though that alone would protect her from harm.

  The menacing growl suddenly became a chorus of growls as more creatures—a pack of wild dogs, perhaps—lunged at her savior, who now stood in their way. Those growls quickly turned to shrieks as the animals fell upon the stranger’s blade.

  Winnie heard thrashing sounds, and then all went silent but for the soft whoosh of the wind rustling through those silvery green leaves in the thicket of trees. She dared to open her eyes as the silence persisted.

  “Princess, are you hurt?” The stranger knelt beside her to help her up, but must have thought better of touching her and eased back slightly instead.

  Her heart was still racing as she struggled to her feet, and her hands trembled as she began to wipe dirt off the delicate outer layers of lilac and blue sarcenet veiling that adorned her gown. “No, I’m quite well.” Her voice cracked. Fear of being ripped apart by those animals had turned her throat dry, but as she glanced around all appeared serene. One would think the encounter had been nothing more than a bad dream, for there were no injured dogs and no sign of blood. “Thanks to you. Just a bit shaken, that’s all. I’ve never been saved by a pirate before.”

  He laughed as he rose along with her and secured his weapon in its scabbard. He held out her crown of blue forget-me-nots, which had once again landed on the ground. “Forgive me, I was almost too late.”

  She gazed at him in surprise. “There’s nothing to forgive. You saved my life.” She looked at him, really noticing him now that she was regaining her composure. Her heart caught in her throat once more.

  Indeed, the man could only be described as magnificent. A warrior from another time. It was merely a costume, of course. Or had he just returned from a long sea journey? She shook her head and sighed. Everyone wore costumes to the May Fair. But he truly looked the part of a battle-hardened warrior, a mix of pirate and Viking at that, with blond hair that fell to his massive shoulders and arms that were...yes, decidedly muscled.

  Since the top of her head barely reached those wondrous shoulders, her gaze naturally settled on his broad chest. She felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck and onto her cheeks, for his shirt of sturdy white cotton was open at the collar and she could see a dusting of gold hairs peeking from his broad chest. He wore no jacket, only a vest of black leather that hid little of his incredible body. Black trousers hugged his trim waist and long, firm legs, and black leather boots completed his outfit.

  She tilted her head upward to meet his gaze and inhaled his light, spiced honey scent. A sweet, yet masculine scent. Perhaps a mix of exotic fragrances from the other side of the world. His eyes were quite extraordinary, the color of blue crystals. A deep and vibrant blue much like the sparkling waters of Derwentwater, one of the nearby lakes. Were her cheeks still flaming? “I’m Lady Winifred Kingsley.” She held out her hand expecting him to take it and drop a light bow before politely releasing it.

  “I’m... er, Captain Ardaric Mariner, late of His Majesty’s navy.” He merely stared at her offered hand, so after an awkward moment she dropped it to her side.

  She laughed softly and shook her head. “A pleasure to meet you Captain Ardaric Mariner,” she said, mimicking the deep and resonant timbre of his voice. His Majesty’s navy indeed! Did he think to fool her with that obviously made-up name? Mariner. In the King’s navy. “Or shall I merely refer to you as Captain Mariner?”

  In truth, the man was quite dashing and did have the look of a privateer. However, he had saved her life so she supposed even such scoundrels could be honorable at times.

  “Yes, Captain Mariner will do. A pleasure to meet you, Princess Aurora.”

  Her laughter faded. “Why did you call me Aurora?”

  He took a step toward her, his hand lightly resting on the hilt of his now-sheathed sword. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

  “My middle name is Aurora,” she admitted. “No one knows that.”

  He frowned lightly. “I do. Others must as well. Ah, I know where I heard it mentioned.
At the inn I stopped by yesterday. Some ladies were chatting about you, a bit imprudently, I fear. Three slightly dotty, older gentlewomen, but they seemed harmless enough. Harmony, Serenity, and...”

  “Prudence,” she suggested with an arch of her eyebrow.

  His lips turned upward to form a grin. “Yes, the Merridale sisters. I mentioned that I would be passing through Grasmere and they asked me stop by Kingsley Hall and pay my respects to little Winifred Aurora.”

  Winnie groaned. “My godmothers may appear innocent, but they can be quite persuasive and diabolical. No doubt they were concerned about our leaking roof and you seemed just the capable, trustworthy sort who could repair it.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “I’m not easily duped, but it appears I was. So that was their interest in me?”

  She winced at the thought of their scheme, realizing they’d be aghast to learn she’d given the servants the weekend off and would be alone for much of the time. The possibility that they were matchmaking crossed her mind, but she dismissed it at once. As handsome as this stranger was, he no longer served in the King’s navy and therefore was unemployed. He traveled on foot and she’d almost tripped over a pouch that probably held his worldly possessions. In other words, he was also itinerant. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?”

  “Trustworthy.” At first, he had appeared quite the rogue, but there was a thoughtful intelligence about his eyes that drew her in. Also, he’d behaved like a gentleman after saving her from the pack of wild dogs, even while she had been on the ground caught up in her veils and flailing her arms and legs like a ridiculous turtle.

  He nodded. “Certainly trustworthy enough to fix the manor’s leaking roof.”

  “You mustn’t be alarmed,” she said with a merry laugh. “I have no intention of allowing you to do it. I’ll have one of the local carpenters attend to it after the fair. As for my being little Winifred Aurora, I’ve been taking care of my godmothers for several years now, only they don’t quite realize it. They still think of me as a little girl, but I’m well on the way to becoming a spinster.”

  He ran his hand roughly across the back of his neck and cleared his throat. “You’re decidedly not a child, but neither would I call you an ancient relic.”

  She laughed at the jest.

  “You will think me impertinent and rude, but just how old are you?”

  “That is impertinent. A lady never tells.”

  He put up his hands in surrender. “Then let’s return to the safer topic of your roof.”

  “Our house is quite habitable...other than the aforementioned leaky roof. We also have some creaky doors that are in desperate need of oiling.”

  He shook his head and dropped his hands to his sides. “Will you let me attend to those?”

  “I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be proper. And what sort of reward is that for saving my life?”

  “Very well. You shall have it your way for now. I shall not call you Princess Aurora because you obviously don’t like it, although the name suits you. I shall explain why at another time, should we ever meet again. I shall not fix your roof or oil your doors.” He glanced down the road. “However, Princess Winifred, may I escort you to the fair?”

  “Just plain Winnie will do.” He’d teasingly referred to her as a princess, no doubt realizing by her costume that she must be one of the May princesses. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “All my friends call me Winnie, as you must since you just saved me from that pack of wild dogs.”

  She didn’t bother to mention that she actually had no friends now that Cadence, her best and only companion, had married and moved to London. “I had better let Lord Darkwell know they might still be wandering about.” She glanced around, her gaze fixing on the woods. “Did they run back in there? I thought you’d killed them all. It certainly sounded that way from their shrieks and yet there isn’t a sign of their ever having existed. Most odd.”

  “Those creatures won’t bother you again, I hope. But there may be others prowling about.” He picked up his pouch, slung it over his shoulder, and then crossed his arms over his chest and stared down at her. “I’ll escort you home once the fair ends.”

  She opened her mouth to dismiss his offer. Her godmothers were out of town, and it would be quite scandalous to invite him in with no one present to act as chaperone. However, she quickly snapped it shut. First of all, it wasn’t so much an offer as a command. Second of all, those dogs were like no others she’d ever seen before. Although she’d caught a mere glimpse of them before firmly shutting her eyes and curling her body into a ball, they had appeared hairless and oily with sharp talons.

  What if they, or others, were still hiding in the woods waiting to attack?

  Captain Mariner had merely said he would escort her home. She didn’t have to invite him in. Nor would her godmothers have sent him here, whatever their purpose, if they held doubts about his character. “Thank you, I’d like that.”

  She had another reason to thank him, Winnie realized as they walked side by side on the path to Grasmere. He’d given her a legitimate excuse for being late to the fair. Lord and Lady Darkwell would never admonish her once they learned of the attack by those wild dogs. That excuse was better than anything she could have dreamed up.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, Captain,” she said wryly, trying her best to keep up with his long strides, “what’s your real name?”

  He cast her a glance, his lips almost tilting upward in a smile. “Don’t you believe I’m a sea captain? I rather like the sound of it, Captain Ardaric Mariner.”

  “I don’t mean your masquerade...not who you are in your costume, but your everyday name. Or am I asking too impertinent a question?” She placed a hand on his arm to slow him down as gaily striped tents and colorful banners waving in the breeze came into view. They were almost at the fair, and she had so many questions to ask. “Obviously, I am being impertinent. But you saved my life and I feel as though I ought to know more about you.”

  “What if I were to tell you that I’m actually a lord?”

  “As in Lord Ardaric Mariner? If you truly are one, then where is your seat? Is it a Welsh title perhaps? Or Scottish? You’re an unusual man, you must admit. Not from around here, or I would have heard of you. And you don’t appear to be the stuffy London sort.”

  However, there was an elegance about him that Winnie could not deny. “No, I shall call you Captain Mariner from now on even though you don’t have the look of a weather-worn sea captain either. Perhaps with proper clothes and some lessons in condescension and arrogance, you might pass for an English lord eventually. However, your nose does not stick in the air and you’re not insufferable...yet. So for now you shall be my captain.”

  He cast her a surprised but indulgent look, then his gaze strayed to the throne planted in the center of the meadow. “I think you’ve been noticed.”

  “Dear me! That’s Lady Darkwell! And she looks angry. I must go.” She ran the rest of the way to the fair, refusing to glance back at him until she’d reached the imperious queen and the other princesses standing impatiently beside her throne.

  Winnie tried to warn Lady Darkwell about the dogs, but the old harridan wouldn’t listen. “Enough excuses, Winnie. There are no wild dogs in the district. And where are your godmothers? Those Merridales never did have any sense of time. Always late to everything, and now they’re late to the fair. Well, no matter. We shall start without them.”

  “Oh, they’re not—”

  Lady Darkwell held up her hand. “Do not make any more excuses for your family.”

  “It isn’t an excuse. They’re...but more important, the dogs—”

  “La, how you do go on about those dogs! Carry a bag of bones home with you and toss it to them if they approach you again. Those creatures must have been hungry, that’s all.” She turned to the other May princesses, and at her command they took their positions around the maypole.

  Winnie gave up for the moment and grabbed on
e of the bold red ribbons attached to the pole as the piper began to play his tune. She spun and dipped to the melodious lilt, but her thoughts were still on the harrowing incident and the stranger who’d saved her life. When she finally looked back to where he had been standing, he’d disappeared from view.

  Who was Captain Ardaric Mariner?

  WISH UPON A KISS

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ardaric Sinclair, fourth Duke of Blantyre, remained on the edge of the meadow and watched the girl he would always think of as Princess Aurora scamper toward the crowd gathered beside the maypole. She called herself Winnie, so that’s how he would refer to her for now, but the prim name did not do her justice. She was far more interesting than any elegantly titled debutante he’d ever met at a London ball, and he’d met too many to count.

  Such was the curse of being a twenty-six-year-old bachelor duke, for every year’s crop of London debutantes clamored to throw themselves in his path, and every year he found them all to be vapid, mercenary, and not very clever.

  Winnie was different. She reminded him of a ginger-haired butterfly, gracefully flitting around the maypole in her gossamer costume. It wasn’t only that her body was so beautiful it stole his breath away. She had an incredibly lovely face as well, her eyes an enchanting mix of azure and sea green, and her smile as radiant as starlight.

  He shook his head and laughed at his folly, for he was a cynical duke who trusted no one and never thought of anyone in such ridiculously glowing terms.

  He liked that Winnie didn’t know who he was, but he was curious to learn more about her. Little Winnie, as the Merridale sisters had called her while imprudently chatting about her at the inn to anyone who’d listen, appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen years old. She certainly was not on her way to becoming a spinster.

  He wasn’t quite certain how those dotty ladies had tricked him into stopping by Kingsley Hall, but he was glad that he had. It wasn’t very far out of his way, and he hadn’t planned on staying long. It was a good thing he’d been in the neighborhood when those dogs attacked, for those beasts would have killed Winnie.