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Holiday Bride: A Sweet Regency Romance (Brides of Somerset Book 5)

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by Karen Lynne




  Holiday Bride

  Brides of Somerset Book Five

  Karen Lynne

  Holiday Bride

  Brides of Somerset Book Five

  Copyright © 2019 by Karen Evelyn.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, without the prior written consent from the author. For more information, address the author at:

  karen@karenlynneauthor.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Characters and storyline are products of the author’s imagination.

  Other Books by Karen Lynne

  Brides of Somerset Series:

  The Earl’s Reluctant Bride

  Courting Eliza

  Lady Abigale’s Wager

  Isabella’s Promise

  Holiday Bride

  Taming Sophia

  Join my reader's group and enjoy updates for new books and little bits of tidbits on 19th-century history.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Sneek Peek Taming Sophia

  About the Author

  Like this book

  Chapter One

  Lillian climbed the stairs to retrieve Mrs. Dalton’s fringed wrap. It was just a ruse to get her out of the way of her son Mr. Benjamin Dalton. The only kind words utter by this family had come from him. She was sure Mrs. Dalton feared Lillian would set her cap for her precious son.

  Really? Nothing could be further from the truth, for she would not be marrying.

  Lillian opened the door to Mrs. Dalton’s bedchamber a young maid was putting her mistress’s new purchases in the wardrobe.

  “I need Mrs. Dalton’s Shawl, the silk one with red flowers.” Lillian looked around the plushly decorated room full of knickknacks.

  “It is downstairs in the parlor Miss Wilson, by the mistress’s chair.”

  Lillian held her breath counting to ten, she said a little prayer to hold her tongue. She needed this position to keep a roof over her head until she was old enough to claim her inheritance left by her parents, which would be next year.

  “Thank you, Milly.” Lillian closed the door and returned to the parlor, deliberately slowing her steps.

  Two could play this game. Mrs. Dalton didn’t really need a lady’s companion, she just wanted someone to torment since her daughter left home.

  Lillian had come to Mrs. Dalton as a companion for a small wage with promises that Mrs. Dalton would be her chaperone for a season, but Lillian had her doubts at Mrs. Dalton’s ability at escorting any young lady. In the month she had been here, they had yet to attend any appropriate functions except for the party’s hosted by her friend Mrs. Notley, a kind woman, but there were few people her age in attendance, just games of whist, which Mrs. Dalton and Mrs. Notley had a passion for.

  Lillian nearly bumped into Benjamin Dalton as he exited the parlor. Caught off guard, she raised her eyes and met his, humor shined within them. “Excuse me, Miss Wilson.” He gave her a bright smile, he slid on his hat as she watched him leave through the front door. A little unsettled, she had always avoided looking at him directly. Sure she had stolen glimpses when no one observed her, but with his mother's attitude, Lillian wanted to avoid any suspicion which might give Mrs. Dalton reason for dismissal.

  “Miss Wilson, if you're done gawking at my son, you may fetch my shawl like I asked.”

  For this exact reason, Lillian thought. She entered the parlor and walked to the chair Mrs. Dalton was occupying and slid the silk wrap from the back.

  “It is here, ma’am.” Lillian wrapped the fabric over the mistress’s shoulders and moved away, counting to ten once more. It was apparent, Mrs. Dalton thought her son, above Lillian.

  “You should have said so before running off upstairs, silly chit. Go sit down at the desk, I need you to write correspondence for me.” Mrs. Dalton’s lip formed a straight line, giving Lillian a steely gaze as if Lilian were an imbecile.

  Lillian kept her back to Mrs. Dalton as she moved to the small desk, she used to write the mistress’s letters. Carefully removing some stationary and setting up the ink, Lillian tried to steady her shaking hand as Mrs. Dalton rattled off her dictation. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper, she had nowhere else to go, for Lillian refused to return to her uncle, hat in hand after her embarrassment. Lillian continued to write in her neat handwriting until Mrs. Dalton was finished.

  With trepidation, Lillian walked the letter to Mrs. Dalton to approve. Lillian wasn’t surprised when she demanded it to be rewritten. Last week she had written a letter five times. Lillian suspected Mrs. Dalton enjoyed her meanness. She feared she would be kicked out the door before the week was out.

  Benjamin Dalton closed the ledger books and opened his pocket watch. His father had left for home an hour ago. If he cut through the park, he would be home in time to eat dinner with his parents and Miss Wilson, who had come into the house as a companion to his mother after his sister, Isabella, married and left home.

  He hoped his presence lessened his mother’s unkind behavior toward her. His mother was miserly and firm with all the staff, but Miss Wilson was not a servant. He hoped his mother would at least treat a lady’s companion as her equal, for she was. He had nearly run her over exiting the parlor. It was the first time she had looked him in the eye. In just an instant, he noticed the striking green color with just a hint of gold, wide like a frightened doe, but then his mother could frighten any young miss.

  Benjamin tightened his muffler around his neck and pulled up his coat collar and climbed into his curricle, starting for the park. Just before reaching the far gate, he noticed a familiar figure sitting on a park bench. “Miss Wilson?” He reined in the horses, stopping in front of her.

  She looked up. Her eyes were moist. She wrung her gloved fingers between her trembling hands.

  Benjamin tied the reins to the seat and climbed down. “Miss Wilson, you have been crying.” He looked around. She was alone. “What are you doing here by yourself?”

  She gave him a weak smile. “I am afraid I have been impertinent, and your mother let me go.” She wiped her glove along her pretty pink nose.

  “Impertinent!” Benjamin noticed the bag by her feet. He sat next to her on the bench.

  “Well, your mother said I had been cheeky.” Her hands trembled. She wore summer gloves and a thin coat hardly warm enough for a chilly summer evening, much less the cold of winter.

  “Cheeky, I would have liked to see that.” He chuckled softly. “I have never seen someone stand up to my mother, at least not anyone in her household.” Benjamin reached into his waistcoat pocket and extracted his handkerchief and placed it into her hand.

  Miss Wilson gave him a sad smile, wiping her pretty nose.

  “Did my mother gi
ve you a reference?”

  “No.” Miss Wilson shook her head.

  “Of course not. Do you have a place to go?”

  “Not without references. This was my first position as a companion, and I fear what your mother might say. I really should have held my tongue, but it has been so hard. In a moment of weakness, I am afraid I snapped. Anyway, it is done. I thought to register at the workhouse until I decided where to go.” Her voice cracked.

  Irritation toward his mother prickled just under the surface, but he stayed calm for Miss Wilson’s sake. “No, Miss Wilson, that will not do. Why don’t you return to your uncle?” If she only knew the conditions of the workhouses, he thought. They were a little better than the ones in London, but just barely. Benjamin didn’t want to think about what would happen to an unprotected female of her class in such a place.

  Miss Wilson shook her head. “My aunt is overwhelmed with her own children. I will not add to that burden.” She lifted her chin. “I am not completely without means, Mr. Dalton, I have a small allowance, and when I reach my majority next year, I hope to come into my inheritance, and then I shall rent a small cottage and do very well for myself.”

  Benjamin couldn't help but admire her show of spunk under the conditions she was forced to endure. “A year is a long time for an unprotected lady. The workhouse is not a place I would recommend. I have a better solution. Will you let me help? After all, it was my mother that has put you in this situation.”

  She lifted her head. Her soft doe eyes looked hopeful. “I don’t think I am in a position to refuse as long as it is proper.”

  Benjamin chuckled. “I promise not to lead you astray. Do you remember Mr. and Mrs. Notley?” Benjamin picked up Miss Wilson’s bag and stowed it in the carriage.

  “Yes, they are the couple that hosts the weekly whist parties your mother loves to attend?” She followed him to his curricle. The horses danced, ready to be on the way.

  “The very same. Is this all the bags you have?” Benjamin offered his assistance and helped Miss Wilson step into the curricle touching her arm. If he wasn’t mistaken, Miss Wilson had lost weight since she started working for his mother. Her cheeks were hallowed, and her eyes had lost some of their brightness.

  “No, I left most of my luggage at your home. I will send for it when I am settled.” She wiped her nose. “But your mother and Mrs. Notley are friends, are you sure she will welcome me?”

  “Believe me, Miss Wilson, Mrs. Notley is well aware of my mother's cantankerous disposition. You will be welcome.” He remembered Mrs. Notley’s help with his sister, Isabella, last year. Benjamin pulled a blanket from the carriage boot and wrapped it around Miss Wilson’s lap.

  She touched his hand as he tucked the surrounding blanket around her. “Thank you, Mr. Dalton.” Her eyes glistened.

  Her gesture warmed him. He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, fingering her thin gloves. “You will be safe. I promise.” This young lady stirred something inside him, like a guardian, he wanted to protect her as if she were a frightened bird. How could his mother just throw her out, her uncle trusted Miss Wilson to their care, and here she was alone, shivering on a park bench?

  He shouldn’t be surprised. His mother had forced his sister to flee last summer. Had he not helped. Isabella would be married to a man as old as his own father. Instead, with the help of her friend, Lady Eliza, his sister, had found a husband in Lord Egerton and was now happy with her new home.

  Chapter Two

  Lillian’s teeth chatter despite the blanket Mr. Dalton had wrapped around her. His touch sent goosebumps up her arm, a strange sensation. She could feel the moisture in the air, and it was beginning to get dark as the carriage pulled out of the park.

  By the time they arrived at the Notley's, the street lamps were glowing. Mr. Dalton helped her down and retrieved what baggage she brought. Lillian’s stomach tightened as they knocked on the door. Mr. Ramsey, the Notleys imposing black butler answered.

  “Mr. Dalton, I will let the mistress know you are here.”

  It was only a few minutes when a cordial Mrs. Notley appeared.

  “Benjamin, who have you brought me?” Mrs. Notley squinted at Lillian. “Ramsey, you need to light the gas lamps, I cannot see in this dark hall.”

  “Mrs. Notley, I cannot stay. I have brought you, Miss Wilson. It seems she has been dismissed from my mother's house and has nowhere to go. I will write to my sister, Isabella. I thought you could send her south to them.”

  Mrs. Notley nodded. “Yes, you poor girl. We will take care of her, Benjamin.”

  “Thank you,” Mr. Dalton turned to Lillian. “I will see you soon.” He smiled.

  Then he was gone. Lillian shivered.

  “Miss Wilson, let’s get you warm.” Mrs. Notley guided her into a sitting-room with a crackling fire in the grate.

  Lillian found a seat and sat close, absorbing its heat. She should have worn her warmer cloak, but she had been in a hurry to leave that nasty woman’s home and had only packed the essentials.

  Mrs. Notley went back to the door. “Ramsey, have your wife make up a room for Miss Wilson and order a warm bath.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “We shall get you fed, dear, and a warm bath. A good night's rest will set you right, and then we can talk in the morning.”

  Lillian’s teeth nearly stopped rattling by the time the housekeeper took her to another warm room where a bathing tub sat behind a screen next to a roaring fire. Lillian soaked until all her worries slipped away.

  By the time Benjamin arrived home after leaving Miss Wilson at Mrs. Notley’s, his parents had finished their dinner. He retreated to his room.

  Changing into evening dress, he ordered a tray and sat at his desk and wrote a letter to Isabella. His sister’s husband, the earl, owned an estate in the southern part of Somerset county. Benjamin had planned on visiting her family for the Holidays. It was time he set up his own house, he would talk to Lord Egerton. Benjamin liked the country in the south of the county, and it wouldn’t be far from Bristol.

  He had been working toward this goal over the years, working with his father. Through smart investments, he was independent of his parents, and it was time he moved out of their home, maybe even look for a bride of his own. Benjamin finished the letter and sealed it. It would go out in the post at Mrs. Notley’s, avoiding his mother’s prying.

  His father had left for the day by the time Benjamin joined his mother for breakfast. He watched his mother as he filled a plate. It appeared his mother was just going to ignore the empty seat left by Miss Wilson.

  “Is Miss Wilson not feeling well?”

  The butler poured Benjamin’s coffee. It was amazing how his mother extracted double and triple duty out of the help. They could very well afford a footman, yet it was a duty performed by the butler at a very miserly wage.

  “Miss Wilson was cheeky, and I let her go.” His mother continued to eat as if they were discussing the weather instead of a young lady's life.

  “You mean she had an opinion.” Benjamin cocked his brow.

  “I did not hire Miss Wilson to have an opinion, the only opinion that matters are mine. Besides, she was making eyes at you.”

  Benjamin’s fork stopped midair. “Mother, she certainly did not. We had no conversation that I did not start first.”

  “I do not see why you insist on speaking to the help, you never did before.”

  “Miss Wilson was not the help. She was your companion, and I dare say she has a better pedigree than us. Besides which I have decided to be happy, and being polite to others makes me much more content with life. You should try it.”

  “I am happy just the way I am, thank you.”

  “Well,” Benjamin finished the last of his eggs. “I might as well tell you since no one else will. You are developing a reputation and not a good one.”

  “What do you mean? I am respected by my peers.”

  His mother's stern look did not deter him. She needed to know how oth
ers perceived her. Benjamin didn’t think she would change, but at least he could leave in good conscience knowing he had tried.

  “Yes, you are respected for your money and the influence it gives to the charities you support, but I am talking about your reputation for being difficult and tightfisted in your household.”

  His mother huffed and scoffed, flinging her hand in the air. “Servant talk, what do I care about that.”

  “You should, for the gossip of the servant class spreads from household to household. What do you think happens when you continue to let people go on a whim without references?”

  His mother just huffed and continued to push off his advice. He had tried. “Mother, I have already told father that I am spending the holiday with Isabella and her family.”

  “Isabella, that ungrateful girl. Why would you want to go to the country, it's so wet and muddy this time of year?”

  Benjamin would never understand his mother. Isabella had become a countess when she married Lord Egerton, and he had become an uncle. His father was pleased with the match. It was just his mother that continued to complain.

  “I have two adorable nieces that came with Isabella’s marriage, and I intend to get well acquainted with them.” Benjamin laid down his napkin and stood, he would just have time to stop in and see how Miss Wilson faired before going into the office.

  Benjamin tucked his coat and scarf tighter around him against the chilly air that blew off the port. He would walk, it gave him time to think about his future. Ramsey let him in and showed him to Mrs. Notley, who was in her sitting-room working at her desk.

 

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