Flirting with His Forbidden Lady--A Regency Family is Reunited
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The Ashburton Reunion
Two estranged brothers find each other and two special women to love!
Orphaned as children, Joshua and Leonard Ashburton were thrown half a world apart when Josh’s guardian moved to India. Leo remained in England, being groomed to become the next Viscount Abbingdon.
Reunited after twenty-five years, both brothers are happy to be together again, until Josh starts to fall for the woman almost promised in marriage to his brother! The two brothers have found each other—now they need to find the right women to love…
Read Joshua’s story in
Flirting with His Forbidden Lady
Available now
And look for Leonard’s story
Coming soon!
Author Note
One of the things that initially drew me to writing historical romance was how different the rules of society were two hundred years ago. I loved to imagine how I would react if I were told I had to wait to be introduced formally to someone before speaking to them or that I couldn’t be left alone with a man, no matter how innocent the situation. I find it astonishing how much things have changed over the last few hundred years.
When I first started planning Flirting with His Forbidden Lady, I was thinking a lot about how our reasons for marrying have changed over the years. In Regency times a love match was a rare thing, especially among the aristocracy, and alliances were often formed without a thought for the suitability of the couple who would spend the next few decades married. I wanted to write about a woman who knows she should marry one man for all the normal, conventional reasons but is tempted into following her heart and pushing against society’s and her family’s expectations. Beth is that heroine, and I hope you enjoy watching the battle between her sense of duty and her heart.
LAURA MARTIN
Flirting with His Forbidden Lady
Laura Martin writes historical romances with an adventurous undercurrent. When not writing, she spends her time working as a doctor in Cambridgeshire, UK, where she lives with her husband. In her spare moments Laura loves to lose herself in a book and has been known to read from cover to cover in a single day when the story is particularly gripping. She also loves to travel—especially to visit historical sites and far-flung shores.
Books by Laura Martin
Harlequin Historical
The Pirate Hunter
Secrets Behind Locked Doors
Under a Desert Moon
A Ring for the Pregnant Debutante
An Unlikely Debutante
An Earl to Save Her Reputation
The Viscount’s Runaway Wife
The Brooding Earl’s Proposition
Her Best Friend, the Duke
One Snowy Night with Lord Hauxton
The Ashburton Reunion
Flirting with His Forbidden Lady
Scandalous Australian Bachelors
Courting the Forbidden Debutante
Reunited with His Long-Lost Cinderella
Her Rags-to-Riches Christmas
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com for more titles.
For Nic, I miss you. I hope it isn’t another nine months until we are together again, but in the meantime here’s a book about that special bond between sisters.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Epilogue
Excerpt from Wagering on the Wallflower by Eva Shepherd
Chapter One
London 1815
‘Elizabeth, are you listening to me?’
Suppressing a groan, Beth moved back from the carriage window and fixed her gaze on her mother.
‘This is important. Your future is dependent on how you carry yourself tonight. All our futures.’
‘I know, Mother.’ She tried to keep the exasperation from her voice but it was difficult to summon enthusiasm for a lecture she had received at least four times today alone. Here she was, sitting in a dress they couldn’t afford, going to a ball she didn’t really want to go to.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like balls; she loved dancing and socialising and laughing as the night passed in a flurry of excitement. It was this ball in particular she was dreading. Mr Ashburton’s ball. The ball during which her mother was expecting her to captivate a man she had barely exchanged a dozen words with.
‘Make sure he dances with you at least twice. Be engaging, charming. Show him you will be a good wife.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ It was easier just to agree than try to protest, to ask how she was meant to show a man she didn’t know she would make a good wife.
‘And smile. You’re pretty enough when you smile.’
Thankfully the carriage stopped before Lady Hummingford could say any more and Elizabeth almost leapt out with relief as soon as a footman stepped forward to open the door. She paused for a moment, looking up at the imposing white façade of Millbrook House, set back from the street behind smart black railings, which framed a neat little garden.
In a few seconds her mother was by her side, hurrying Beth up the steps to the open door and into the house. Already there was a crush of people inside, the noise building as they ventured in deeper from a quiet hum to an almost deafening roar of laughter and conversation. There were guests in the grand hallway, fanning themselves in the unseasonably warm April heat, sipping from glasses of punch and lemonade. Standing at the entrance of the ballroom was a footman ready to announce all new arrivals, and Beth watched as her mother gave their names before she was pulled into the melee of the ball.
‘Lady Hummingford and Lady Elizabeth Hummingford.’
It took a moment for Beth to adjust to the heat and the light. Her mother had timed their arrival so their entrance would make the maximum impact, allowing most of the other guests to arrive first. It meant the musicians were already playing and couples already dancing in the middle of the ballroom. Beth allowed herself a moment to enjoy the swirling dresses and quick steps; she loved to dance and appreciated how happy music and dancing made people.
‘Where is he?’ her mother murmured, frantically searching the ballroom for their host.
‘Good evening, Lady Hummingford, Lady Elizabeth,’ Miss Culpepper said as she sailed over to them. This might be Mr Ashburton’s home and his name on the invitation, but Miss Culpepper would have been the one to oversee some of the finer details that were essential when organising a ball. She was a distant relative of Mr Ashburton’s, elderly and childless, who had stepped in when Mr Ashburton had been orphaned at a young age and volunteered to raise him. She was known throughout society as a bit of a dragon, never afraid to say exactly what she thought and disapproving of most she came across.
‘Miss Culpepper. What a fabulous ball. A success even so early in the evening.’
‘Thank you, Lady Hummingford, you are too kind.’
‘Is Mr Ashburton close by? We would like to give him our regards.’
‘I’m not sure where my dear great-nephew is at the moment but I’m sure he’ll return to the ballroom shortly.’
Beth stretched her neck up as she caught a glimpse of a tall, dark-haired man on the other side of the ballroom. Mr Ashburton was easy to pick out over other people’s heads—he must be at least six feet tall, perhaps even more, and his hair such a dark brown it was almost black. He disappeared again almost as soon as she caught sight of him and Beth tried to push away the feeling of relief.
She wanted to get married, wanted to be a wife and start a family, wanted a house of her own to run, away from the interference of her mother. She’d conversed with Mr Ashburton twice for no more than a few minutes each time. Apparently he didn’t attend many society events, didn’t seem to be in London all that often, not that Beth would know as they’d only made the journey to the capital a couple of weeks ago themselves. On the two occasions they had talked, both over a year ago now, her impression of him had been that he was a serious man, dedicated to running the estates he would one day inherit. He didn’t smile much, didn’t laugh much, but he seemed pleasant enough. There were plenty of worse candidates for a husband. The issue was more that when she looked at him she didn’t feel anything. No racing of her heart, no difficulty catching her breath, no delicious tingling of her skin. Beth didn’t expect love at first sight but she was certain there should be something, some sign of attraction or, at the very least, a feeling of companionship when faced with the man she would be spending a lifetime with.
Miss Culpepper had moved on to the next guests, so Beth and her mother weaved their way deeper into the ballroom.
‘I think I saw Mr Ashburton.’ She slipped her arm out of her mother’s and turned to walk away.
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘No,’ Beth said a little too quickly, pausing a moment and giving a reassuring smile before continuing. ‘I think I should speak to him alone.’
Her mother eyed her for a minute before finally nodding. ‘Remember how important this is. Annabelle’s future is at risk too if you don’t secure this match.’
As always when her mother reminded her of her debt to her sister Beth felt a little nauseous. Annabelle was one year younger and the sweetest girl in the entire world. Beth had to make a good match and marry a man with enough money to support not only herself but also her mother and younger sister. They were living off goodwill and the influence of the Hummingford name, but their lines of credit were one by one being cut off and if Beth didn’t marry soon they would be facing financial ruin.
‘I know, Mother.’
Lady Hummingford let go of Beth’s arm and quickly Beth slipped away before she could change her mind. She would go and seek out Mr Ashburton, but not just yet. She needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts, to convince herself she could do this. Mr Ashburton would make a perfectly tolerable husband—who was she to want more, to wish for something that only happened in stories?
Weaving through the ballroom, Beth smiled and greeted people as she passed but didn’t stop to talk. Instead she made her way to where the French doors were thrown open and stepped out onto the terrace. The air was marginally cooler outside, but not cold enough for Beth to need anything on her shoulders. Many of the other guests seemed to have had the same idea, with little groups gathered along the length of the terrace. Spotting the stone steps that led down into the garden, Beth checked that no one was watching her and made her way into the darkness below. She’d just find somewhere to sit, somewhere to contemplate her future for a few minutes, away from the crush of the ball, and then she would summon some enthusiasm for hunting down Mr Ashburton.
* * *
Joshua Ashburton stepped out of the carriage and paid the driver, not taking his eyes off the striking white façade of the house in front of him. It was large, especially for a town house, easily the largest in the street. Even before he took a step towards the house it was apparent that there was some sort of gathering or ball going on. There was a swell of music from inside, mixed with the hum of dozens of voices talking all at once.
He hesitated, wondering whether to stop the carriage he’d arrived in before it trundled off down the street, contemplating if it would be easier to go away and come back tomorrow. Twenty-five years he’d waited for this moment, another day surely wouldn’t make any difference.
He knew logically it wouldn’t make a difference, but still he couldn’t seem to turn himself around and walk away from his brother’s house.
‘Perhaps just a peek inside,’ he murmured to himself. He didn’t need to march in and declare himself, didn’t need to disturb his brother’s party. Five minutes, just to get a sense of who his brother was. They had exchanged letters over the years, but you couldn’t get a real insight into a person from their letters alone.
Josh started towards the front door but stopped before he reached the steps. There was a little pathway by the side of the house, no doubt leading to the back garden, and he could see the gate was very slightly ajar. Quickly he changed course and headed down the path, pushing open the gate and making his way into the garden. The music was louder here and as he rounded the corner of the house he could see the terrace filled with guests and the open doors to the ballroom. People seemed to be enjoying themselves—there was laughter mixed in with conversation and he could see the rhythmic movement of couples dancing inside.
The garden was large, as befitted a property like Millbrook House, and from what he could see of the interior it was richly decorated. From the letters that crossed the ocean every few months he knew his brother had bought Millbrook House a few years earlier, wanting something of his own in London even though he much preferred the countryside. By the size and grandeur of the house it would seem Leo was doing very well for himself.
‘Good for you, Leo,’ he murmured. Never once had he begrudged his brother his good fortune, never once had he wanted to change places. Leo might have been raised by the relatives with the money and status, but Josh’s upbringing had been filled with love and adventure and he knew you couldn’t put a price on that.
He’d almost seen enough. Tomorrow he would return and enjoy his reunion with his brother, but tonight he would go back to his rented rooms and leave Leo to his ball and his guests.
As he turned he tripped over something sticking up from the grass in the darkness, stumbling slightly and feeling a jolt of pain shoot through his ankle. He managed to catch himself, cursing quietly as he regained his balance. He limped over to a nearby bench, bending down to massage his ankle. Thankfully it hadn’t even been a proper twist, a couple of minutes’ rest and it would be more or less back to normal, perhaps with just a little twinge here and there.
He sat back, stretching his legs out in front of him and looking up at the starry sky.
* * *
‘Oh.’ Beth heard the exclamation escape her lips before she could stop it. She’d spotted a bench to the left of the garden, hidden from view of the terrace, and made her way over only to find it already occupied.
‘Good evening.’
She peered through the darkness, her eyes still not completely adjusted after leaving the bright light of the ballroom. It was Mr Ashburton. She just about managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Of course he would be here, the very man she had decided to actively avoid for a few minutes and he was sitting in her refuge.
‘Good evening,’ she said, standing awkwardly, not knowing whether to join him on the bench or turn and head back towards the house.
She looked at him. She couldn’t profess to know him well but there was something different about him tonight. Normally he held himself so stiff, so upright, but here he wa
s lounging on the bench in the most relaxed manner. He even looked up and smiled at her.
‘Won’t you join me?’
She glanced uncertainly over her shoulder. Her mother might have encouraged her to spend time with Mr Ashburton, but even she would balk at the idea of being alone with him in the darkness of the garden. Anyone might have a similar idea to her, wanting to escape the crush of the ball for a few minutes, and come upon them.
Still...there was something about the way he was smiling at her that was making her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Before she could talk herself out of it she circled around him and perched on the other end of the bench.
‘It’s a wonderful ball,’ she said, falling back on mundane conversation to carry her through until her nerves settled at least a little.
‘Is it? I’m glad.’
‘You haven’t seen for yourself?’
He shook his head and Beth wondered if it would be rude to ask why he would throw a ball and then hide out here in the garden. Perhaps he’d just received some bad news or he was developing a headache. Perhaps...she shook her head to stop her imagination running away with her and focussed again on the man next to her.
‘I can hear though. The music, the laughter, it certainly sounds like a success.’
Beth tilted her head to one side and listened to the sounds of the ball for a moment, catching Mr Ashburton watching her with those sharp eyes of his.
‘It does, doesn’t it?’ she agreed.
‘Surely if it is such a success you should be in there dancing, Miss...’
Beth blinked. He couldn’t have forgotten who she was. They’d been introduced, admittedly a year ago now, but surely he remembered the woman he had promised to marry.
She swallowed the indignant outburst and smiled at him stiffly. ‘Lady Elizabeth.’
‘Lady Elizabeth.’ There wasn’t even a flicker of recognition in his expression.
For a moment she closed her eyes. What if her mother had got it all wrong? Lady Hummingford was convinced Mr Ashburton had all but agreed to marry Beth before their father had died five years earlier. Lord Hummingford had spoken of some debt owed, a service he had provided Mr Ashburton, and the promised outcome had been that Beth would marry the wealthy and successful young man if she wanted. In her parents’ minds it hadn’t been an engagement, but it hadn’t been far off. The whole point of this season, all the money they’d spent renting rooms they couldn’t afford and buying dresses on rapidly reducing credit, was to remind Mr Ashburton of his promise and persuade him there was no benefit in waiting any longer.