by Rose Pearson
Engaged to a Friend
Convenient Arrangements (Book 6)
Rose Pearson
Contents
Engaged to a Friend
Engaged to a Friend
Prologue
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
My Dear Reader
A Sneak Peak of A Broken Betrothal
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Join my Mailing List
Engaged to a Friend
Convenient Arrangements
(Book 6)
By
Rose Pearson
© Copyright 2020 by Rose Pearson - All rights reserved.
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Engaged to a Friend
Prologue
“It is certainly a pleasure to be back in London!”
Looking out of the carriage window, Tabitha let out a long sigh of contentment. “Indeed it is,” she said, smiling to herself. “Whilst I will not pretend that the past few months have been uneventful, for they have been most engaging, there is certainly a fresh excitement in coming back for the Season.”
Lady Dinah Ashbrook laughed as the carriage began to slow. “I am very glad to have you returned also,” she said, as Tabitha smiled back at her. “You know very well that my husband is one of the dullest gentlemen in all of England!”
Knowing Lady Dinah was teasing, Tabitha laughed softly and shook her head. “If I know Lord Ashbrook at all, then I am certain that he will have already planned a great many events for you to not only attend but also to host!”
“Indeed, he has,” Lady Ashbrook replied with a fond smile spreading across her face as she thought of her husband. “I confess that I am very much looking forward to this Season.” The carriage came to a stop, and the door was pulled open, ready for them to depart. “Which is precisely why I must have a few new things!”
Tabitha stepped out into the London street and inhaled a deep breath, a familiar delight spreading through her chest as she took in the scene surrounding her. London was a most welcome place, for it meant that she could enjoy the many exciting entertainments that it had to offer and would be able to see and converse with her many friends and acquaintances. Being a widow meant a great deal of liberty and, whilst Tabitha had been sorrowful over her husband’s death some three years ago, she had soon taken hold of her new freedom with great satisfaction.
“It is quite wonderful,” she agreed as Lady Ashbrook began to hurry across the pavement towards a few of the shops. “Now, what precisely are you seeking this afternoon, Lady Ashbrook?”
Lady Ashbrook glanced back over her shoulder and then, with a small shrug, allowed herself a quiet laugh. “I am not quite certain,” she declared. “My dear husband has told me I should purchase whatever I require, whatever I wish, and I cannot disoblige him!”
“That is true enough!” Tabitha laughed, coming over towards her friend and looking at the bonnets sitting proudly in the window. “A new bonnet, mayhap?”
Lady Ashbrook’s eyes twinkled. “Mayhap indeed,” she laughed, going to the door. “Shall we, Lady Croome?”
With a smile, Tabitha entered the shop alongside her friend and began to peruse the items there. This was the beginning of her Season, and Tabitha could not help but feel very contented indeed.
“Lady Croome.”
Turning swiftly, Tabitha recognized the imposing figure of Lady Pellingham. She was a well-known lady amongst the beau monde, having married the Marquess of Pellingham around a decade ago and, since then, providing him with not only the heir and the spare but three other very robust children.
“Good afternoon, Lady Pellingham,” she said quickly, curtsying. “How very good to see you again.” It would not do to fall out of favor with Lady Pellingham, given that she had the power to remove practically anyone from their position within society, should she wish to do so. “I do hope you are well?”
“Very well,” Lady Pellingham replied, a slight air of arrogance floating about her. “This is now your third Season in London, is it not?”
Tabitha let a frown flicker across her brow. “My third Season?” she repeated, wondering what the lady meant.
“Since you returned to the fray,” Lady Pellingham said, looking down her sharp nose at Tabitha, her dark blue eyes a little narrowed. “It has been four years since you buried your husband.”
Quickly coming to an understanding of what the lady meant, Tabitha gave her a small smile. “Yes, indeed,” she said, recalling how, at the tender age of sixteen, she had been not only engaged but wed to Viscount Croome. A year and a half later, he had passed away. It had been entirely his own foolishness that had brought about his demise, for he had been something of a wastrel who drank to excess whenever he could. Trying to ride one’s horse when one was fully in one’s cups was a foolish endeavor, and it had left Tabitha as a widow before she had turned eighteen years of age.
Much to her surprise, her husband—who had never shown any sort of consideration for her—had ensured that she would be provided for should he die before her, leaving her with a small yet comfortable home in the country. The townhouse, she was permitted use of during the Season given that the newly appointed Lord Croome and his wife were rather aged, with a son already married and well settled. A yearly allowance meant that she was able to live a very contented life and, as yet, had nothing whatsoever to complain of.
“That is all you have to say?” Lady Pellingham asked, one eyebrow lifting in evident astonishment. “You state that this is, in fact, your third Season, but you have no intention of doing anything particular this summer?”
“I do not know what it is you expect of me,” Tabitha replied honestly. “I am simply here to enjoy the Season and to reacquaint myself with the very dear friends that I have missed these last few months.” Smiling brightly at Lady Pellingham, she waited in the hope that the astonished, if not slightly condemning, look would fade from the lady’s face, only to see a dark frown begin to sweep itself across Lady Pellingham’s forehead.
“Do you mean to tell me that you have no intention of finding yourself another suitable match?” Lady Pellingham asked, her voice rising a little. “That this is your third Season here in London since you lost your dear husband, and that all you intend to do is simply enjoy yourself?” She threw up her hands and shook her head in evident horror. “That is not at all suitable for a young lady such as yourself!”
Tabitha blinked in surprise, not quite certain what she was to say in response. She had never once expected to hear such things from Lady Pellingham, for there had never been a particularly strong acquaintance between them. Rather, there had been an introduction and an occasional remark but nothing other than that.
“You shall have to think seriously about your future, Lady Croome,” continued Lady Pellingham, her chin lifting haughtily. “I think it best that you seek a husband for yourself. It is not right for a young lady to be going
about town in such a manner.”
Tabitha did not know what to say, but it seemed she was to have no time to make any further remark, for Lady Pellingham turned on her heel to make her way to the door of the shop, leaving Tabitha standing, stunned, in her wake.
“Good gracious,” Lady Ashbrook whispered, startling Tabitha from her astonishment. “I believe everyone in the vicinity heard Lady Pellingham’s judgment upon you!” Moving around to face Tabitha a little more, she looked at her with wide eyes. “Whatever shall you do?”
Giving herself a slight shake and, realizing that the other ladies in the shop were now either whispering to each other about what they had seen or watching Tabitha carefully, she gave what she hoped was a careless shrug and then smiled as brightly as she could.
“I shall not do anything except what I intend to do,” she replied firmly. “Whilst I appreciate Lady Pellingham’s intentions, there is nothing that I need to concern myself with. Her concern is very kindly meant, I am sure, but I fully expect to continue with the Season just as I have planned.”
Lady Ashbrook’s eyes remained just as wide as before. “Do you think that is wise?” she asked, lowering her voice as the others in the shop began to converse normally again, given that they had now heard Tabitha speak as she had done. “Lady Pellingham can easily have one thrown from the favor of society, should she so wish it.”
“I doubt that she would do such a thing to me simply because I refused to find a husband,” Tabitha replied firmly. “Come now, Dinah, push such thoughts and concern from your mind and let us instead think of what we came here to do.” She chuckled and took Lady Ashbrook’s arm. “To find you a few new items so that you will simply dazzle your husband at whatever events you attend.”
Lady Ashbrook laughed, and the tension that had hung over Tabitha’s head shattered in an instant. She had no need to concern herself with Lady Pellingham’s words, she told herself. There was nothing to worry her here, for she was convinced that Lady Pellingham would forget about her remarks in a few days time. There would be many others that she would have cause to consider, many other young ladies who would fall foul of her high standards of propriety! As she picked up a new pair of silk gloves, Tabitha let out a breath she had not known she had been holding. Yes, there was nothing to worry about this Season, she was quite sure of it. Everything would be as she had planned.
Chapter One
“And so you are to meet with your solicitors?”
Oliver harrumphed, glancing at his friend. “It does sound rather sinister, does it not?” he muttered as Lord Jennings chuckled. “You may laugh, but I am not entirely pleased with the situation.”
Lord Jennings shrugged as they meandered through London’s Hyde Park. “It is just that you have seen your solicitors many times over these last few years,” he said as Oliver let out a groan of frustration. “Your father was, if it is not rude to say, one of the most eccentric gentlemen I ever had the opportunity to meet.”
Oliver did not say anything in response but knew all too well what Lord Jennings was speaking of. His late father had been bizarre, particularly in his later years. Over the last four years, instead of being able to settle into his new role as Earl of Yarmouth, he had been continually hounded by his solicitors who, in going through his father’s papers, had found new wills which needed to be studied and considered, to see whether or not they superseded the one Oliver had at present. In addition, he had also found some wills, signed in his father’s well-known handwriting, and thus had been forced to surrender them to the solicitors also. Whether or not this particular will would improve on the one they had in place at present, Oliver could not say.
“Correct me if I am mistaken,” Lord Jennings continued, his tone bright and breezy, whereas Oliver felt nothing other than heavy dismay. “But the will that you are under at present states that you must be engaged within six months, does it not?”
Oliver rolled his eyes, fully aware that his friend was doing nothing more than attempting to irritate him with his question. “Yes, I am to be engaged within six months if I am to gain a large proportion of my late father’s wealth,” he grated, hating how such a large sum had been held back from him without any true cause. “Else it shall go to some undeserving cousin of mine, if I remember correctly.”
“An excellent incentive, perhaps,” Lord Jennings replied, one brow lifting slightly. “So, you are in London this Season in the hope of finding a bride?”
“I have no other choice unless you are better able than my solicitors to find a way for me to be free of it!” Oliver retorted scathingly. “It is not a situation that I am particularly pleased about, in case you are unaware.”
“I am well aware of it,” Lord Jennings replied, an infuriating grin spreading across his face. “It is something that brings me a good deal of mirth, given just how unwilling you are to even consider the debutantes this Season—or in any other Season, in fact.”
Oliver did not immediately respond to this, thinking silently to himself that he had been unwilling to look at the debutantes given that he found them all to be much too flighty, much too wide-eyed and astonished with all that went on in London. No, if he was to take a wife, he would rather a lady who was perhaps on her second or even third Season and who was fully intending now to find a match. Someone willing to settle down into married life rather than being eager to return to London for all the enjoyments that it might provide.
“You are looking serious,” Lord Jennings said, breaking into Oliver’s thoughts. His face flushed as Oliver glanced at him, clearly now a little embarrassed. “I did not mean to frustrate you.”
“Yes, you did,” Oliver replied firmly. “You very much enjoy taking advantage of my situation in your own way, although I presume your attempts to make light of it are meant to encourage me.” Shaking his head, he shot Lord Jennings a hard glance. “But it does nothing other than irritate me, Jennings. I find that I am greatly irritated at my circumstances, and I cannot understand why my father would stipulate such a thing in his will. It is more than a little trying, particularly when I would like to take my time about such an important thing as matrimony.” Another glance was sent in his friend’s direction, clearly warning him that he was not to mention the fact that Oliver could very well have done something about engaging himself to a young lady last Season, for it was something Oliver himself was very well aware of. He had hoped desperately that another will would be discovered that would free him from such a trial, but, as yet, it had not done so.
“Then I shall stop being so mirthful about it all,” Lord Jennings decided. “I apologize, Yarmouth.”
Oliver accepted it readily enough, fully aware that Lord Jennings was a gentleman who was always inclined towards finding the humorous side of things, even in the worst of situations. It was unfortunate, however, that Oliver himself did not find anything particularly funny about his present circumstances, else he might have appreciated a little levity.
“The park is certainly quiet this afternoon,” Lord Jennings commented, now clearly attempting to remove the conversation from Oliver’s difficulties into something much more banal. “I would have thought that the beau monde would have been eagerly waiting to descend upon it.”
Oliver chuckled, and the remaining tension between himself and Lord Jennings shattered in an instant. “You forget that it is not yet the fashionable hour,” he reminded his friend. “They will all be waiting to appear at the best opportunity to be seen as well as to make certain they can pay attention to everyone else present.” He shrugged. “If we return to the carriage, we can take a turn about London and then return at the same time, so that we might take note as to who else is present for the Season this year.”
“But surely that is not something you are inclined towards?” Lord Jennings retorted, throwing a curious glance towards Oliver. “You have never once wished to do such a thing before.”
“And nor shall I do this Season either, no matter how much I might wish to find a suitable matc
h,” Oliver replied resolutely. “The fashionable hour is nothing but a crush of people all seeking to be noticed by others, and I shall not be a part of it.” A small shudder ran through his frame, but he set his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Which means, I suppose, that I shall have to find a young lady entirely unwilling to seek out such things also.”
Lord Jennings said nothing but, from the expression on his face, Oliver guessed that his friend did not think that such a thing was likely. He could not blame him. The many ladies of the beau monde were eager to be noticed by others in the ton—particularly if they held a lower title and sought to marry off their daughters to a gentleman of a greater one—and therefore, would not turn away from the fashionable hour at Hyde Park! It would be almost impossible to find such a creature, Oliver admitted to himself, but he was determined that he should try. If he were to be engaged with the expectation of marriage, then he was quite certain that the lady he chose for himself had to be tolerable, at the very least! And that meant that she needed particular qualities in order for him to find her so.
“Can it be?”
A voice ahead of him stopped him in his tracks, the sun shining in his eyes and making it difficult for him to make out the face of the lady approaching him.
“It is!” the voice said again, sounding truly delighted to see him—and instantly, Oliver knew who it was.
