Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  Regency Hearts

  A REGENCY ROMANCE SERIES

  BRIDGET BARTON

  Copyright © 2017 by Bridget Barton

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

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  Table of Contents

  Free Exclusive Gift

  Regency Hearts - Book 1

  Regency Hearts - Book 2

  Regency Hearts - Book 3

  Regency Hearts - Book 4

  Regency Fire (Sneak Peek)

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  Book 1

  Introduction

  Set in early 19th century England, this is a tale of jealousy, ambition, and forbidden love. The Duke of Northumberland is a lonely and morose man. He tries to engross himself in the management of his coal mines, where he is famed amongst his employees for his sense of justice and fairness. However, the death of one of his most faithful workers in an accident perturbs him. Moreover, Abigail, the daughter of that employee, one of the housemaids in the castle he has inherited, will not let him forget his involvement in that accident.

  A long-time business rival and his estranged cousin, the Earl of Aldrich, is also looking for a way to extract revenge from the Duke for previous wrongs. In a reversal of fortunes, the Duke finds himself forced to abandon his castle while Abigail discovers she is not really the daughter of a coal miner. Abigail, caught in the midst of the rivalry between two powerful men, discovers that nothing is as it seems. Not even her own past.

  Chapter 1

  The Duke of Northumberland was in a towering rage. He stood with furrowed brow, whip clenched in a fist as the foreman cowered before him.

  “I shall not countenance such dastardly behaviour again!” he growled.

  The foreman trembled. “Forgive me, Your Grace! It was a mistake ...”

  “Enough! Away lest I lose all patience.”

  The man seized the opportunity and made good his escape while the Duke turned to the elderly woman who sat huddled in a corner, weeping with anguish.

  “Mother Grey, I regret the torment you have endured, and I assure you it shall not go unpunished. My men will come here tomorrow and restore all that you have lost.”

  “Will they restore my good name? I am shunned as a witch, and I fear for my life, young man!”

  “You have my word Mother; no one who works at my coal mines or on my land shall ever cause you grief.”

  He turned and spoke to the young man standing behind him. “See to it, Tobias.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” the young man replied calmly.

  The Duke turned to leave, and the old woman rose to her feet. “The Lord bless Your Grace! My eyes are half blind, and few are the souls left in this world that hath any regard for one such as I. As long as life remains in my old bones, I shall pray for thy prosperity …”

  The Duke interrupted her impatiently, “Keep your breath, Mother. I have no need for your prayers. Tobias, see that she is no longer compelled to work in the mines, and remind me to arrange a pension for her with the accountant.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he strode out and mounting his horse turned its head back towards his home. Tobias Harding followed quickly and was soon riding by his side. The two made their way through the gradually deepening gloom, hastening to leave the dreary surroundings of the colliery.

  In the year 1785, the shire of Northumberland near the border between Scotland and England was famous for the mining of coal. There were two major collieries there at the time, and the owner of one of them, the Duke of Northumberland, was famous for both his hot temper and his integrity. As they rode, the Duke took a sidelong glance at Tobias Harding, his cousin and right-hand man.

  “You seem unusually morose tonight. What ails you?”

  “Not at all Your Grace, it is just that I am concerned ...”

  “Out with it! You know I desire you to speak your mind, Tobias!”

  “Your Grace, it is hardly wise to offer retirement and a pension to every old man or woman who falls ill whilst working in your colliery ...”

  “Why not? It may not be the general custom as well I am aware, but since when have I paid regard to the ways of other men? You know Tobias that I cannot abide injustice. The matter is not just of an old woman falling ill. The foreman I hired to guide my workers is tormenting them … withholding their pay and threatening to slander them if they durst speak. I do not wish to see that man anywhere near my colliery again! Pay him his due and pack him off.”

  Tobias acquiesced and resolved to hold his tongue, knowing well that the Duke was in an impenetrable mood at that moment. A short while later, they had arrived within view of the ancient castle of Northumberland. It loomed up above them in the darkness, and the moon shone on its ramparts.

  The Duke sighed. “What happened to the old man, Tobias?”

  “What old man, Your Grace?”

  “The old miner who went down the shaft and disappeared. Did they find him?”

  “Yes, Your Grace, but ’twas too late. He was already dead.”

  “Who did he leave behind?”

  “Just one daughter, Your Grace. He had a son who worked with him for many years but then ran away to learn some other trade. The daughter had always refused to work in the mines.”

  “Where is she then?”

  Tobias nodded towards the castle.

  “There, Your Grace. She is employed as a housemaid.”

  “I see, has she been told about her father?”

  “Not yet, Your Grace. I shall send word to the housekeeper to give her the news.”

  “Yes. Has she no surviving relative?”

  “I am not aware of that, Your Grace. Perhaps the housekeeper has that knowledge. I shall make all necessary arrangements to compensate her, Your Grace; you need not be troubled as to her fate.”

  “Yes, I know you will Tobias. Nor am I anxious, knowing well you are to be depended upon.”

  They crossed the drawbridge that had been lowered and reached the gates. The night watchman opened them bowing deeply to the Duke. They dismounted, and the groomsman came to lead away their horses. The great doors swung open, and the butler and steward stood bowing, ready to do their master’s bidding. The Duke strode silently in and sat down. A servant boy came to remove his boots.

  A large fire burned in the hall, but the Duke was in no mood to dine formally. He resolved to retire to his personal apartment and have dinner served there. He ate hungrily and hastily barely aware of the food that passed his lips. After the dishes had been cleared away, he sat staring into the fire.

  Where is Tobias? ’tis time to discuss the morrow’s business, he thought and lifted his hand to ring the bell for his steward. However, before he could do so, a great commotion arose outside his apartments.

  The door was thrust open, and a young girl entered with a degree of impatience that was most unusual to see. The Duke stared at her amazed and speechless. He saw that she wore the plain black gown and white apron of a housemaid. A demure white bonnet covered her head, but a stray honey blonde curl escaped and hung low over her flushed
cheek. Her blue eyes shone with tears, and her lips trembled as she curtseyed and stood in front of the Duke with her hands clasped. The housekeeper stood behind wringing her hands.

  “Your Grace! ...” the girl spoke and then stopped as her arm was suddenly grasped by the butler who appeared at that moment, his lips compressed in a straight disapproving line and his back held ramrod straight.

  “I beg your pardon, Your Grace; this girl has taken leave of her senses. She shall be removed immediately …”

  “Stand back Alfred, Let her speak!” said the Duke raising a hand.

  The butler let go of the girl and stood back.

  “Your Grace, I hope you will forgive me for my impertinence, but I could not help myself. I have just learned that my old father has been taken ill at the colliery, and I wish to leave immediately, yet I am informed that I am not to leave till tomorrow morning.”

  “Are you the old miner’s daughter then? Alfred, what is the meaning of this? Has Tobias not informed you …” he broke off, leaving his question unfinished.

  “Yes, Your Grace. Jeremiah, the old miner and father of this girl, has passed away. We have related this to her, but she refuses to accept it saying that he is ill and needs her to care for him.”

  “Let her leave then and see him herself. Give her the wages she has earned.” The Duke lifted his glass of wine and took a drink. He looked up to see the girl staring at him in a manner that made him deeply uncomfortable.

  “What is it you want, child?” he enquired irritated.

  “I am not a child, Your Grace. I have laboured under your roof for many a year, and yet it seems you have never until this day been aware of my existence. Tell me is it true what they say about my father?”

  The Duke sighed. “Yes girl, your father has died.”

  The girl stood still a minute, and then the housekeeper came forward to coax her away.

  However, she shook off her hand and addressed the Duke again.

  “Twenty-five years hath my father served, Your Grace. My brother served you too. The least you could do is to tell me how my father died.”

  At that moment, Tobias arrived and whispered in Alfred’s ear. A few minutes later, the girl had been hurried away between the housekeeper and butler.

  Tobias stood ready to go over the next day’s business. Afterwards, the Duke undressed and pulled his nightshirt on. However, try as he might, he could not sleep. As he tossed and turned, the girl’s face kept intruding on his thoughts. At last, he fell into a fitful dose.

  Chapter 2

  Samuel Cooper grovelled in front of the Earl of Aldrich, Horace Blakemore. The Earl was seated in his hall with his accountant.

  “What is it? Speak up and tell me why thou hast come here. Has thy master, Augustus Eldridge, the Duke of Northumberland sent thee to spy on me?”

  “No, My Lord! You are mistaken. I am no longer employed by the Duke. I have come here to beg your succour, for I have been turned out by the Duke and humiliated for the sake of a witch …”

  “A witch you say?” the Earl sneered and laughed nastily.

  “She must be a witch, My Lord, else why would he so abuse the servant who hath served him for the last ten years?”

  “What has that to do with me?” asked the Earl.

  “My Lord, I wish to offer you my services, and in return, I shall transform the fortunes of your colliery. I am skilled in managing the labour of miners, and within a year, your colliery will be more successful than that of the Duke. I shall also …”

  “What? Tell me the weaknesses of the Duke?”

  “No, but I can tell you the best way to get his coal away from him. The Northumberland mines have the best coal, and I know of more sites where you can commence mining.”

  “I already have a foreman; why should I employ you?”

  “My Lord, if you wish to expand your business, you shall require more than one foreman.”

  The Earl thought for some time pacing up and down. “Alright, I shall take you on. However, remember you shall be closely watched, and at the first sign of treachery, I shall run you through with my sword!”

  “Yes, My Lord!” Samuel grovelled and then rising to his feet backed out of the hall bowing profusely.

  “I shall see you destroyed yet, Augustus Eldridge; you may be Duke of Northumberland, but you shall be stripped of your castle and your land!” exclaimed Horace Blakemore.

  He looked up at his accountant who stood at his elbow mask-faced and silent. “Tell the men they shall work double shifts till midnight until the twenty that have run away are found. Not one shall be paid this week. Use the money to hire more of the Duke’s men.”

  “Yes, My Lord, but it will be difficult to convince them. The Duke is a generous employer.”

  “Enough! Do as I say and leave me now. I am tired of your nonsense.”

  The accountant bowed deeply and left the hall.

  The Earl stared at himself in the great mirror above the fireplace. His skin was dark and sallow with an unhealthy tinge of olive. He was only thirty years old but looked ten years older because of his furrowed brow. He wore a large powdered white wig to hide his thinning hair. His chin was pointed and sharp like a rodent while his face was bare and smooth, devoid of any hair. His small, sharp eyes fell to the great silver ring that he wore on his right middle finger. It contained a large, bright yellow stone.

  “I shall avenge you yet, Mother!” he muttered to himself.

  He thought of Lady Blakemore, his late mother. She was the sister of the old Duke of

  Northumberland, the father of Augustus Eldridge. She had been married against her wishes to the Earl of Aldrich and remained an invalid for most of her marriage, bearing only one son. She blamed her illness on her unhappy marriage and the fact that the Duke, her brother, had neglected her, being too busy with his colliery.

  The young Horace Blakemore had tried to impress his elder cousin Augustus Eldridge and failed. Augustus had taken him hunting one afternoon and mocked the way he closed his eyes when he fired. Humiliated, Horace resolved never to visit his cousin again. Yet that was not the extent of their animosity.

  Blakemore closed his eyes, and it seemed as if he could see his father again. The smell of his cigar smoke trickled into his consciousness and made the beads of sweat stand out on his brow. He could see the silk cravat tied around his father’s throat and feel a sick sense of dread engulf him as he heard him say, “Look at me, Sir!”

  Reluctantly, he raised his eyes and looked at the face of his father. He noted the vein bulging on his temple and the bloodshot lines in his eyes. He watched in dread as his father sneered at him.

  “What a fine fellow you are! I doubt that you really are my son! No son of mine would be such a snivelling coward. Now, look at that cousin of yours, a fine, tall, upright young man, strong and well built! You disgust me; you haven’t even learned to take aim and shoot straight yet! Turn around Sir! I shall have to whip you again till you learn not to shame me with your ineptitude!”

  Blakemore winced as he felt the searing pain of his father’s whip on his buttocks. He almost screamed but stopped himself in time, knowing full well that any sound he made would cost him dearly. Afterwards, he pulled up his breeches ignoring the pain of his wounds and turned to face his assailer.

  “Well, what have you to say, Sir!” roared his father.

  “Thank you, Sire, for the lesson you have taught me. I shall endeavour to improve myself and be worthy of the name of Blakemore.”

  The words spilled out of his mouth by themselves unbidden for they had been learned and repeated many times before. His father grunted and turned away.

  “Get out of my sight; I’m sick of looking at you!” he exclaimed, and he obeyed.

  Blakemore shook his head and reminded himself that many years had passed since he had last been whipped by his father, and he was now the Earl of Aldrich. His father was gone, and he was the sole owner of a successful colliery. He no longer had any reason to be ashamed or to env
y the Duke of Northumberland.

  I shall have my revenge! he thought. I shall ruin the fine, young man that hath turned my own father against me!

  He turned away from the mirror and called for his steward, for the desire to drink something strong that would numb his rage and embarrassment, was intense.

  Chapter 3

  The hearth stood dark and cold inside the tiny hut that belonged to old Jeremiah Blunt, the miner. His daughter sat at his bedside staring dry-eyed and silent at his face as he lay on his bed. It seemed as if he were asleep, and Abigail thought that if she touched him, he might open his eyes. A single candle burned on a rough, wooden table in the centre of the room. The shadows cast by it were kind and gentle. They hid the black coal stains that had been baked into the dead man’s skin by years of working in the coal mines.