Christin's Splendid Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

  “What is going on?” Aaron asked from the door.

  Lily whipped around, her dark locks following in her wake. She grinned madly. “Grandmama said I’m to have the very best party ever.” Her hold on her doll was quite severe.

  “Lily says I can come, too!” Tina said with a matching grin aimed at Christin.

  Her aunt moved over to her and bent down to give her a hug. “How sweet of Lily to have invited you.”

  Aaron looked at his mother and found her watching with an abundance of nerves. The party that Aaron had originally planned was to be very small. The child was only six, after all. He’d thought of a simple dinner and gifts, but it seemed his mother was of the notion to buy her way into Lily and Mary’s life, showering them with false love.

  He would not stand by and watch her hurt his girls.

  He crossed to her and gripped her arm before he started out the door.

  His mother explained herself as they walked down the hall. “I thought it a lovely idea to have something grander for Lily. After all, she did lose her parents—”

  “I don’t remember a party in my honor when I lost mine,” he spat. “Oh, but then you weren’t there to give me one, were you? After all, you were a parent I'd lost.”

  “Aaron.”

  He stopped a distance away from the sitting room and turned. “I won’t let you hurt them, Mother. Once this party comes to an end, you must leave.”

  Her eyes widened. “But I can’t leave so long as you wish Mrs. Potter to stay.”

  Damn. He’d forgotten about that.

  She touched his arm and smiled. “Do you love her?”

  “Why do you care?” He shrugged himself out of her reach. “It would be amazing if I were still capable of love after what you did to me.”

  The countess closed her eyes. “Aaron, I made a mistake.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “You didn’t make just one mistake. You woke up every morning and repeated that mistake when you decided to stay away.”

  Her features fell. “I came back for you.”

  “I didn’t need you as a man!” he shouted. “I needed you when I was a boy.”

  She reeled back.

  “Aaron!” Christin called.

  He turned and nearly collided with Mary and Lily. They stood at his back. Had they followed him out? Had they heard what he’d said? Their expressions seemed sad.

  And he’d been doing so well not shouting in front of them. He wanted to blame his mother but couldn’t. He had to control himself. He couldn’t blame his circumstances. Those lessons from the vicar came back.

  Christin approached him with a shy Tina on her heels and took his arm. “I believe Tina said there was to be ice cream.”

  “Ice cream!” Mary and Lily cried together as they always did. They looked hopefully at Aaron.

  He looked over at Christin and then at the arm she held, holding it as though she had every right.

  She did have every right.

  And he was not in the mood for ice cream. He wanted her.

  Christin directed her gaze to his mother. “Perhaps you can tell us about the party while we partake of our treat?”

  “Oh,” his mother said behind them. “Oh, no. I believe I’m… not feeling well. I’ll retire early for the evening.” Her voice broke, and he heard her retreating feet before they were gone.

  Christin’s gaze was sad even with a smile on her lips. If she believed she would patch up whatever was wrong with him and his mother, she was mistaken. He would let her know it whenever they had a moment alone.

  Mary grabbed his mother’s arm and began leading him toward the nursery, which was where they usually consumed their meals and treats.

  “So, what plans do you have for your party?” Christin asked Lily.

  The girl enthusiastically launched into a long tale about fairy gardens but was interrupted by one of the workers who were steadily rearranging his home.

  “I’m looking for Lady Jeanshire.”

  “Grandmama is not feeling well,” Lily told him from below.

  The man looked down at her with a frown, a look that said children were better neither seen or heard, before looking at Aaron. “I can’t make the thrones.”

  “Thrones?” Aaron asked.

  “We’re to be princesses,” Lily said with a grin. “He’s to make three thrones for us to sit on during the party.” That Tina had been included softened Aaron’s heart. His girls were sweet as sugar cubes.

  He turned back to the man, who was obviously a woodcarver, and caught the rebuking look that was directed at Lily once more.

  His heart hardened again. “Why can’t you make the thrones?”

  “I simply have no time,” the man said as explanation. “I’ve an entire dining set to design for Lady Durley, and I simply cannot make three chairs. I can perhaps make one.”

  That he’d thrown out Lady Durley’s name, a woman well known for her wealth, said everything he needed to know about the woodcarver. For starters, his work was in high demand, which was probably why his mother had called on him. He also didn’t care for children.

  “I’m sure you’ll find the time to make the chairs,” Aaron said in a cool voice.

  The woodcarver’s eyes widened. “Indeed, my lord, I simply cannot.”

  Lily sighed heavily.

  The woodcarver smirked slightly.

  Aaron reached out and grabbed the man by the collar. “I take great offense to your attitude toward my girls. Apologize now.”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he looked down at Lily. “You have my most sincere apologies—”

  Aaron jerked him to regain his attention. “Make the chairs or I will stop at nothing to see you ruined.”

  “Aaron,” Christin whispered, stroking his arm.

  His anger cooled, but only because heat fanned his imagination and he pictured that hand stroking something else.

  He released the shocked woodcarver. “Make the thrones. I don’t care if it takes you half the night. If they are not delivered by the party, you’ll regret it.” Then he started away with Christin at his side and the girls quickly behind.

  “Uncle Aaron always gets us what we want,” Lily commented loudly to Tina. “You’ll see.”

  Aaron smiled.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY

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  Aaron calmed over the course of the ice cream and while listening to the excitement from the girls—including Tina. In one day, Christin had seen her become someone else. She smiled more often even if she was still shy where Aaron was concerned.

  The scene with his mother downstairs had not been good, and now more than before, she wanted to give Aaron some measure of peace before she left. It would be her one act of kindness for him, and if she succeeded…?

  She imagined it would take more than the week she planned to stay, but she decided to worry about it later. Once ice cream ended, Christin announced she would rest for a few hours and then slipped into her room.

  She was astonished to find Lorena sitting at her vanity.

  “Does my face look wide to you?” Lorena turned around, presenting herself to Christin.

  Christin slowly shook her head and moved farther into the room. “What are you doing here?”

  Lorena stood and reached for her bonnet. “Surely, you didn’t think we’d let you go to meet Bancroft my yourself, did you? We sent Taygete to gain the information, but in her condition, it’s really not safe for her to be prancing around the dark corners of London, now is it?” She finished tying her bonnet and then looked Christin over. “Genie was to come but couldn’t. So I am here by myself. Are you planning to go as you are?”

  Christin looked down at her costume and then at Lorena. “There’s nothing wrong with my clothes. I had work to do this morning.”

  Lorena sighed and waved her of
f. “Very well. You’re obviously pretty enough to wear a potato sack and no one would care. Is it hot in here? Let’s be on our way, shall we?”

  Christin barely had time to thank Lady Ashwick for her compliment before they were strolling out the door.

  Lorena showed her the back entrance through the servants’ door—as though she’d used it once or twice before—and then out into the street. She’d rented a hack and all but shoved Christin in before it was underway.

  “Tell me your plan,” the Countess of Ashwick demanded.

  “Well, I hope to persuade Mr. Bancroft to leave Tina alone.” For while she had the protection of Aaron and his friends now, once she left, she would be on her own.

  “And if he says no?” Lorena asked.

  “Then I leave.”

  Lorena shook her head. “No, then we tell Aaron.”

  Christin’s mouth gaped open. “No, you will not tell Aaron. I already owe him so much. I couldn’t possibly impose on him further.”

  Lorena frowned. “You can’t impose on Aaron. Anything that helps you helps him. Really, if it bothers you so much, simply imagine he’s doing it all for himself. Would you be so kind as to loosen my corset a bit? I told Jane to tighten it this morning because I thought myself to be getting fat around the middle, but I really can’t take another minute of this.” She turned and presented Christin with her back.

  Christin laughed and undid Lorena’s buttons. The countess was acting so strange. “Why would I pretend that Aaron was only trying to help himself?”

  “Because the sooner you are free of your troubles, the sooner he can woo you,”

  Christin’s fingers trembled around the lace of Lorena’s corset. “Woo me?” She thought Lorena wrong but not about the wooing. Aaron was definitely out to get her. They had… plans. But he was certainly not waiting for her troubles to vanish. With his every glance, she fell further and further under his spell, and getting to know him only made it worse. The story about his brother had nearly shattered her.

  With the corset loosened, Lorena sighed heavily and then she started to take her sleeves out of the dress. “Oh, that’s blissful. It’s coming off entirely. Undo the ribbons for me, dear.”

  Christin eyes widened but she got to work. She also decided to change the subject. “What sort of weed did Taygete purchase?”

  Lorena laughed. “Oh, it’s something that is grown in America that keeps a woman from conceiving. The Spinsters— except for Taygete obviously—have all been drinking it for the last year. We’re simply not ready to have children, though none of us would turn away our husbands.” She laughed again. “Actually, I think they’d have more of the opportunity to turn us away than the other way around. Anyway, I—Pardon me, sir, but I am undressing! Turn back toward the road!” Then she paused. “Now, where was I?”

  The corset came off, and Lorena’s hands went back into her dress. “We’ll stop drinking the weed once we’re ready, but not before. I’m simply not ready.”

  The dress was quickly buttoned, and Lorena leaned back into the chair and sighed with happiness.

  And Christin tilted her head slightly and thought… Lorena’s cheeks did look slightly bigger.

  Then she thought about how overheated many of the Spinsters seemed. Alice’s obsession with milk, Genie’s continued eating, Lorena’s ill-fitting corset… and her slight madness.

  And last but not least, the florist’s shifting eyes and his response to Taygete’s first question.

  We don’t ‘ave any weed.

  Christin cleared her throat. “Uh, why is it that you said Genie couldn’t come?”

  Lorena frowned. “Oh, poor Genie has been having spells of illness. She was barely able to get out of bed this morning.”

  Christin bit her lip and stared out the window, fighting to suppress a laugh.

  They were pregnant. Every last one of them was pregnant.

  It was the epitome of hilarity.

  Had the tea stopped working? Or perhaps the florist had been honest when he’d told Taygete he didn’t have any of the special weed to give her.

  She remembered him looking around the docks. Was he afraid of something, perhaps?

  “Christin?” Lorena called. “What’s the matter? Why that look?”

  She opened her eyes and looked at Lorena before shaking her head. “Oh,” she giggled. “Nothing. I was just remembering a joke I’d heard earlier today.”

  Lorena leaned forward. “Oh, do tell.”

  Christin swallowed then shook her head. “Oh, I seem to have forgotten it.”

  Lorena shifted back into her chair and smiled. “Don’t trouble yourself over it, I’ve forgotten more things than I wish to admit these last few weeks.”

  Christin started laughing again, but her enjoyment was short-lived as the carriage came to a stop.

  “We’re here!” Lorena said with excitement.

  “The man is dangerous,” Christin reminded her as fear threatened to cut off the air from her lungs.

  “I know,” Lorena agreed with even more excitement. “Let’s hurry.” Then she was out of the carriage.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

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  If someone had asked Christin what Nezzer was like, she would have given them a poor description, because as she kept to the left side of the building, she could barely think beyond the man she was preparing to meet.

  The gardens were crowded, and Christin recalled that patrons came both night and day to the gardens. A leaf tickled her cheek, and she leaned away from the wall just as two laughing ladies passed and headed toward the manmade river that flowed through the garden.

  Christin focused her mind on what she planned to say as she crossed over the amber-stoned bridges and went through a short tunnel.

  “This place is enchanting, don’t you think?” Lorena’s voice echoed slightly. The sound of running water could be heard from somewhere. Was there a waterfall ahead?

  They made it to the other side and back out to the sunlight before they met a wall.

  Lorena felt through the vines and turned around to grin at Christin. “I found it.”

  Christin looked around and noticed how secluded they were from the crowd. Then she turned back to Lorena and gasped. The woman was gone. Christin moved the vines away and walked into yet another tunnel, but this one held none of the tranquil sounds that the other had. She could hear water dripping, the candles that burned against the high brick walls barely made it possible to see more than a few feet ahead.

  She heard the unmistakable sound of Lorena’s short shriek from some yards ahead and started quickly down the tunnel. “Lorena?”

  Her arm was grabbed and the next minute, she was being dragged in the other direction. She tried to fight. “Wait, I’m here to see Mr. Bancroft. I must speak to him.” Where was Lorena?

  “You don’t have an appointment,” the man who held her said. “He’s not expecting you. We’ll escort you and your friend out of the garden.” He was nothing more than a dim shadow, which was frightening in itself, but the thought of something happening to Tina drove Christin’s feet into the ground.

  “No!” she shouted. “I must speak him! Please. It’s a very urgent matter that deals with my brother-in-law, Mr. Jack Peck.”

  The man paused in the tunnel. “Jack has a sister-in-law?”

  “Yes.” Christin straightened. “So if you would please return my friend to me and take me to see your employer, I would be most thankful.”

  There was a pause and then the man said, “No, I don’t think you will, but I’ll do it nonetheless.”

  He started walking again, but Christin was now lost in a series of tunnels. Strangely, fresh air seemed to seep through the walls, but there was no sunlight and the candles flickered without going out.

  They eventually came to a door and the man
knocked.

  It was opened, and Christin was blinded by light before she was pushed into a room. She caught herself on her toes and then allowed her eyes to adjust to the room.

  Was she still at the garden?

  She stood in a greenhouse. Light spilled through the glass overhead and plants surrounded her on all sides.

  She caught movement from behind a tree and was startled when the guard pushed her forward from behind.

  In the middle of two long rows of tables stood a tall man who was leaning over a journal, writing. His profile was to her and, strangely, she feared him turning to look at her at all. The first thing that caught her eye—which she was sure was the first thing to catch anyone’s eye who happened to meet him—was his hair. It was white. Not pale blond, but white, like fresh snow, and his skin wasn’t far from that color either. His jaw and nose were strong. Was this Bancroft?

  She’d stared so long, she was surprised when he spoke.

  “Why am I being interrupted?” His voice held annoyance, but not anger.

  “This woman claims to be Jack Peck’s sister-in-law.”

  The writing pen paused, and then cool brown eyes turned to look at her.

  Genie had been right. He was handsome, but not in the classical sense at all. He was otherworldly handsome, as though the myths of spirit creatures were true.

  He was dressed in all black, including his shirt, which made his coloring even more profound. Was he in mourning or was he simply that sinister?