A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise
A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL
EMILY HONEYFIELD
Copyright © 2019 by Emily Honeyfield
All Rights Reserved.
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Table of Contents
A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise
Table of Contents
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A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise
Introduction
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
The Awakening of a Forbidden Passion
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise
Introduction
Lady Harriet Arnold lives a privileged life but poverty in London keeps her awake at night. One day, under the devil’s nose, she has a revelation; her true purpose is to take what the rich don’t deserve and gift it to the poor. But when it comes to love, it’s not that easy to stay in disguise. How can she resist her incredibly handsome friend who has returned to London after all these years? Will she choose him over her scheme to take down the rich and greedy?
Lord William Abernale has returned home after studying law for years. Even though everyone believes that upon his arrival, he will reconnect with Zelda, the girl he loved before he left, his heart says otherwise. The truth is that all this time away, he never forgot about her ravishing cousin, Harriet, with her spitfire personality and breath-taking beauty. And now that he has found her again, the fire inside him grows stronger and bigger. Will he convince her to give him a chance?
With rumours of a big thief in London spread, Harriet and William will try to deny their growing passion...but not for long! When an unexpected discovery will change their stance for each other, they will also find themselves in great peril. In the most dangerous situation they will ever be implicated in, they are the only ones who can save each other. Will they defy everything in order to succeed?
Chapter 1
Harriet Arnold was only just 12 years old on the night of her cousins’ family’s dinner party, one they held nearly every year at the height of summer. Salads glowed in enormous glass bowls before her; maids scuttled in and out to refill the wine glasses and ensure any accidental crumbs were wiped away from the antique tablecloth.
Laughter rang out like a song through the enormous window, overlooking the moor. In every way, the dinner felt entrenched in nostalgia already, as though this was a time they would glance back at fondly, murmuring, “I can hardly believe things used to be so simple.”
Harriet’s light brown hair flowed down the back of her chair as she tilted her head back, her ears heavy with the lacklustre conversation of the grown-ups around her. At just 12, she felt caught between her childhood and her very near future, when she would be expected to live an adult life—acknowledge the boring and severely unfair world around her—and even contribute the words she heard echoed from her parents’ lips. “That’s just the way things are.”
But just now, she caught the eye of one of her cousins, Marcus. Marcus was only 13, three years younger than his older sister, Zelda, who was seated beside him. Her hair was sleek, blonde, shiny in the light that beamed in from the windows. She sat with the primness of a lady. Harriet attempted to match her, but then returned her gaze to Marcus. He shot his head towards the door, with an alluring, “Shouldn’t we go outside?” He said it just soft enough not to be acknowledged.
Harriet’s heart pumped wildly. She wanted nothing more than to strip herself from the rickety chair beneath her and scamper out to the garden. She felt her mother’s eyes occasionally upon her, seemingly daring her to make a misstep. “I’ll be terribly proud of you if you sit like a lady all throughout dinner, Harriet,” her mother, Lady Marie Arnold, had told her that morning. “Won’t your cousin Zelda be impressed?”
But just now, Harriet heard the cluck of a tongue beside her. Her eyes flashed towards her younger cousin, Renata, with messy blonde curls to contrast her sister’s sleek strands. Renata kicked the legs of her chair. It seemed to Harriet that she hadn’t yet touched the food on her plate. It was clear that this experiment—for the 11, 12, and 13-year-olds to join the adults at the table and proceed with appropriate conversation, was failing.
Again, Marcus tugged his head towards the door, seemingly demanding her decision.
Just then, the alluring, gritty voice of one of the strangers at the table forced Harriet’s eyes away from Marcus.
“I don’t suppose you’ve given much thought to the nature of poverty,” the very-near man, Lord William Abernale, announced to Harriet’s uncle, who had been in the midst of saying something rather dull about taxation.
At this, Harriet’s ears perked up. William Abernale was the son of Harriet’s uncle’s friend, and thus was a guest of the house and family. It was a remarkable thing that he dared to argue with Lord Hendrick Arnold. Just now, Harriet’s own father lent William a dark look, something that to Harriet, seemed to demand, “Just who on earth do you think you are?”
“How old are you, son?” Hendrick asked, tearing a piece of bread across his platter. Crumbs flew.
“I’m eighteen, sir. I’ll be attending university this fall. I plan to study law,” William offered.
“He’s a bit idealistic,” William’s father announced, giving his friend Hendrick a knowing look. “Perhaps we were once like that.”
“It’s difficult to think back so far,” Harriet’s father, the Duke, Lord Adam Arnold, scoffed. “But I suppose we all had different ideas back then.”
“Before the truth of raising our own families shadowed everything else,” Hendrick said.
“That’s precisely so,” William’s father returned.
William’s cheeks flashed pink. Harriet had never seen anyone attempt to stand up to the adults before, although William, himself, was more or less an adult at this point. Just now, she marvelled at his looks: his dark brown curls, his deep brown eyes. Despite being only eighteen, he was already marvellously muscular, as though he
’d spent the previous summer months performing physical tasks, rather than hunched over a book.
Harriet’s chest swelled a bit. She focused on the soft dark hairs above William’s upper lip, wondering at the ache within her. She felt a sort of internal need for—something unnameable. Something she couldn’t understand. She yearned to sweep her fingers through William’s dark locks, to inhale his scent, emanating just behind his ears.
These were not thoughts Harriet was accustomed to.
But now, Zelda—just about a year younger than William—slipped a hand across his upper bicep. Harriet felt chilled with jealousy.
“Don’t listen to them, William,” Zelda whispered, just loud enough for Harriet to hear. Already, the adults had proceeded on with their retelling of the past. This was a near-constant pastime for them, as though they’d locked out their ability to create new tales.
William’s big brown eyes glowed towards Zelda. Zelda’s hand fluttered away from his bicep. Still, neither noticed the rest of the room, as though they were completely entranced with the other. Harriet’s stomach clenched.
“Come ON, Harriet,” Marcus finally grumbled, leading Harriet to leap to her feet. The words had scared her, forced her to recall where she was.
“What is it, darling?” her mother demanded, her voice a harsh whisper—tucked just beneath the booming voices of the other men.
“Can we go outside and enjoy this beautiful day?” Harriet asked, hating the fear that lingered within her voice.
Her mother cast her eyes towards Renata, who nodded her head. Marcus leapt from his chair.
“Oh, you cousins. It’s impossible to control you, isn’t it?” Harriet’s mother sighed.
This was how Harriet, Marcus, William’s younger sister, Evelyn, Renata, Zelda, and William himself came to arrive in the garden on this blissful, blue-sky day in August. Harriet and Marcus began to organise a little game of war, one that Zelda immediately called “barbaric.” Of course, Harriet’s cheeks burned at this judgement, as she wished, in many respects, to be the sort of lady Zelda respected.
William stood beside her, his hands shoved in his pockets. Harriet wondered how long it had been since William had allowed himself to play with the other children. Those days were long-gone.
In the midst of the “war,” which was ultimately fought with Marcus, Evelyn, Harriet, and Renata, Harriet watched as Marcus cheated, finding a secret tunnel in the garden and scaring Evelyn from behind. Harriet’s heart burned with the injustice of it.
“You live here, Marcus! It’s not as though the rest of us could possibly know all your tricks!”
“That isn’t my fault.” Marcus shrugged. “It’s the same with any war. If it’s fought on your territory, then you have the upper hand.”
“I’m not so sure that’s true,” William remarked from the sideline.
Harriet stepped forward, her eyebrows lowering. “It should be equal, Marcus.”
Marcus thrust his sword-stick against the ground and crossed his arms over his chest. “This is stupid. I don’t want to play anymore.”
“You don’t want to play anymore just because you don’t think you can win without the upper hand?” Harriet demanded.
“That’s not it,” Marcus affirmed. “I’m just not having any fun anymore.”
“Good grief.” Renata sighed. She, too, tossed her stick on the ground. “I don’t want to play, either. This is boring. War is boring.”
The 11-year-old Renata seemed to make more sense than any of them. William suggested that they all take out the horses from the stables and go for a brief ride across the moors. At this, Zelda shrieked with pleasure, nearly tossing herself against William. Again, Harriet felt herself ache with jealousy. She dragged her feet after the rest of the crew, watching as William and Zelda’s hands occasionally touched—their fingers seeming to flirt with one another, even as their eyes didn’t find the other’s.
Once at the stables, all the children mounted their horses and began to trot across the moors. The sun was a heavy orb in the sky, penetrating Harriet’s eyes. She squinted at the horizon line, shifted her body forward, and began to race alongside Marcus, demanding the speed to increase. Marcus huffed beside her, seemingly aghast that she wanted to push it so hard. Behind them, the others had begun to speed as well, with Zelda crying out, “Why so fast, Harriet?!”
But Harriet was like this. She liked to speed, to feel the wind through her hair and across her cheeks, to feel as though if she ran faster and stronger and wilder, she never had to return back to the humdrum life of adulthood, which she knew awaited just beyond her 13th year. Even William declaring that he was going to university had frightened her.
Soon, they would all have to make decisions that would structure the rest of their lives, decisions that decided the sort of character they had in the world. She didn’t want such things. She didn’t want to sit around the dinner table, discussing taxation. It felt like a trap.
In the midst of her manic thoughts, she heard a shriek from far behind. Marcus stalled and bucked back, letting out a wild, “Oh no!”
Harriet forced herself to slow. The horse’s feet stumbled beneath her, nearly toppling her over. She reared around and blinked at the view. About 500 feet back, Zelda had fallen from her horse. The horse itself had scampered away, leaving her in a crumpled heap on the grass.
Already, William had hopped from his own horse and knelt beside her. The view was one of a hero tending to his maiden. Harriet dropped her heels into the side of her horse and ambled towards them, her heart bolting in her throat.
When she arrived at the scene, she could hear the low, animal-like groan escaping from Zelda’s throat. Renata rushed to her side, watching with enormous eyes as William rolled Zelda onto her back.
“Zelda! Zelda, can you answer me?” he called. “Zelda, is anything broken?”
The question had an immediate answer. Zelda’s arm hung limply at her side, looking crooked and mangled. Harriet didn’t look away like the others did. She gazed at the strange view of this mangled limb, knowing, in some black part of her mind, that this was partially her fault. She always pushed too hard. She always wanted the biggest emotion possible out of everything.
“Let’s get you inside,” William murmured.
Zelda lent out a meek, “Will you help me?”
Without words, William slipped his hands beneath her shoulders and her knees, guiding her against him. He stood slowly, adjusting her frame as he went, then took a slight step back towards his horse. Renata reached for the horse’s reins and steadied him, whilst William draped Zelda over the side. He kept his firm hand across her back, stabilising her.
“Let’s go slow,” he murmured. “Slow and steady.” His eyes flashed back towards Harriet and Marcus, who he viewed with a strange, almost sinister light in his eyes. “Go back to the estate now and hail the doctor,” he told them. “Ride as fast as you can.”
Harriet and Marcus mounted their horses and did as they were told, stretching out across the moor and back to the estate. With each pound of the horse’s hooves beneath her, Harriet was reminded that her selfish actions had led to this moment. If only she’d slowed down; if only she’d remembered the softness of Zelda, the need to be delicate.
In the back of her mind, she resolved never to act with such selfishness again. Even in the midst of the next hours, as she and Marcus explained the circumstances to the parents and watched the uproar, the doctor’s arrival, the quick action—she reprimanded herself internally.
No one could ever punish her the way she currently punished herself. And when William and Zelda finally arrived back, she felt she deserved nothing of William’s attention. It seemed that Zelda and William were about to embark on the kind of romance she could only dream of—a kind that was written in the stars, reserved for the sort of delicate and beautiful personalities, like Zelda. Harriet was simply too unbreakable. She was simply too rugged. She was simply too free.
Chapter 2
Har
riet was 23 years old. The fact of this number rang through her frequently, reminding her that her family-appointed mission to find a husband, to settle down, was largely a failed one thus far. She blinked at herself in the foggy mirror over her water basin, marvelling at the long, wild brown locks, the green eyes that seemed to have a life of their own. “She’s a bit too much, isn’t she?” she’d heard one of her potential suitors, Lord Everett, whisper to another man. “Beautiful, sure. But I don’t want such volatile opinions at my dinner table every night for the rest of my life. I think any man would be crazy to …”
A Ravishing Beauty in Disguise: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 1
