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Falling for His Practical Wife

Page 22

by Laura Martin


  ‘It isn’t very far to the house and there are lovely views,’ Beth said as she settled in the seat across from Annabelle, her younger son Joseph nestled in the crook of her arm. The hustle and bustle of the docks was soon replaced by a dusty town that soon dwindled to the odd dwelling in the beautiful countryside. After a few minutes they began to climb, the carriages slowing as the incline got steeper. Annabelle gasped at the raw beauty of the view, the hills a lusher green than she had ever seen before, rolling away to a sparkling blue sea fringed by a narrow strip of golden yellow sand.

  ‘You look happy,’ she said to her sister. ‘You look as though life here suits you, Beth.’

  ‘It does. I’m very happy. It feels as though this is where I am meant to be. The only thing that has been missing is you.’

  Annabelle wrote to her sister every week and received a similar volume of post in return. Everything was at least nine months out of date by the time it had travelled across the oceans, but Annabelle loved receiving her letters from Beth. It was no substitute for sitting with her, for hearing her voice and her laugh, but at least it was something.

  ‘I had hoped it wouldn’t be so long,’ Annabelle said.

  ‘Me, too. We planned to come and visit England after Robert was old enough, but then I was pregnant with Joseph.’ Beth shrugged, but Annabelle could see the tears in her sister’s eyes.

  ‘We’re here now.’

  ‘I’m so glad, I’ve missed you so much.’

  The carriage drew to a stop in front of a magnificent white mansion, with a trickling fountain in the middle of the drive and perfectly manicured lawns to either side. It looked so exotic that Annabelle couldn’t believe her sister actually lived here.

  ‘This is our home, come and let’s get you settled.’

  Already Leo was stepping down from the other carriage, laughing at something Josh had said and looking up at his brother’s house. He crossed over to her, making sure she was steady on her feet, before ushering the children inside.

  ‘I’ll show you your rooms, then perhaps once you’ve had a chance to freshen up we can have lunch on the veranda.’

  When Beth and Josh had closed the door behind them, Annabelle turned to Leo and gave a little excited squeal of delight.

  ‘I can’t believe we’re actually here.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry it has taken so long.’

  ‘It feels as though not a day has passed since I saw Beth, yet it has been seven years.’

  ‘She’s still your sister, no matter how much distance there is between you.’

  ‘Mama, look at this massive bed,’ Edward called, pushing off his shoes and jumping on top of it.

  ‘Edward,’ Annabelle said admonishingly, leaning over and tickling him so he collapsed into a giggling heap.

  Their rooms were spacious, a set of four rooms set in their own wing. Leo and Annabelle had a large and airy bedroom, with a door leading through to a slightly smaller room with two beds for the children. There was also a prettily decorated room that looked out over the rolling hills set with comfortable chairs and a little writing desk, and then a small bathroom off to one side.

  ‘Can you believe seven years ago we had just waved off Josh and Beth on their wedding day and I was nothing more to you than your grumpy brother-in-law?’

  Annabelle smiled. ‘You were very grumpy. Do you remember the day my mother and I moved out of Birling View and you found me hanging out of the window? I’ve never known someone so annoyed at having to witness another’s predicament.’

  ‘I was worried you would hurt yourself.’

  ‘You barely knew me.’

  ‘Josh had asked me to look out for you and you know I take my responsibilities very seriously.’ He leaned in and kissed her and for a moment Annabelle forgot where she was. Even almost seven years after she had first kissed Leo, he still made her feel as though she were floating on air.

  * * *

  Once they had freshened up and changed their clothes which were dusty and creased from travelling, they made their way downstairs, to find Beth and Josh on the veranda.

  ‘Your cousins are playing in the garden, you can join them if you like,’ Beth said to Edward and Lucy, calling over Robert to show his cousins around.

  Annabelle settled back in a comfortable chair and sipped at the drink one of the servants handed her once she was settled.

  ‘How was the voyage?’

  ‘Long, especially for the children, but so worth it,’ Annabelle said, starting to relax. It had been arduous at times to keep the children entertained while cooped up in such a small space, but the alternative—leaving them at home—had been unthinkable. They had loved stopping at the different ports, exploring a bit of the world and learning about the ship from the friendly crew.

  ‘I can remember the first time I did that trip,’ Josh said quietly. ‘I was only a little older than Edward. It seemed as though it lasted for ever.’

  ‘You’ll just have to stay longer so it makes the journey worthwhile,’ Beth said with a smile. ‘How long are you planning on staying?’

  ‘Well...’ Leo glanced at Annabelle who gave a discreet nod. ‘We had planned on four months, but we think it might have to be a little longer if it is not too much of an imposition?’

  ‘You know we’d have you stay for ever if we could.’

  ‘Why longer?’ Beth asked, her eyes skimming over Annabelle’s body. Annabelle grinned.

  ‘I never could keep a secret from you, Beth.’

  ‘You’re pregnant?’

  ‘Yes. About four months, we think. I don’t fancy having a baby on board the ship, so I was hoping we could stay until after the birth, then perhaps a couple more months to let the little one grow to be a bit more robust.’

  Beth launched herself at Annabelle and squealed in excitement.

  ‘This is the best news ever. And in that time perhaps we can work on persuading you both to stay for ever. I’ve got so much planned for your visit and we’ve got seven years to catch up on. I’m so excited.’

  ‘We thought in a month or so we could take you on a little tour of India. We have a couple of small properties dotted around that we use when we need to travel for the business. Beth has to be here for the next few weeks to sign the contracts for her book that should be arriving from the publisher, but after that I can hand the running of the transport business over to my managers for a few weeks.’

  ‘That sounds delightful. I would love to see as much as possible while we’re here.’ Annabelle leaned over and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘I’m so proud of you.’ Beth had always wanted to travel the world and write about her experiences, even as a child it had been one of her dreams. A year ago Annabelle had received a letter telling her that Beth’s ambition had been realised—a publisher in London wanted to publish her account of an Englishwoman travelling around India.

  ‘And I of you, little sister. I can’t believe how much you’ve changed since I last saw you. It is so lovely to see you so confident, so at ease with the world.’

  Annabelle took a sip of her drink as she remembered all those years she had spent locked away at Birling View, never socialising, too scared to be part of the wider world.

  ‘It’s been a long road,’ she said, taking Leo’s hand, ‘But little by little I realised how much I was missing out on.’

  ‘Thank you for looking after my sister so well,’ Beth said to Leo.

  ‘She’s the one who deserves the praise,’ he said quietly. ‘She is the strongest person I know.’

  ‘It is easy to be strong when you are right next to me.’

  Leo leaned over and kissed her and Annabelle felt as though everything was right in the world. She was here with the people she loved the most, with a long trip stretching out before her, and who knew, after a few months she might even be able to persuade Leo that they could make the
ir home here, especially if Mr Thoday proved to be as capable as Annabelle hoped at running everything back home. Whatever their future held she didn’t mind, as long as she had her family around her.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, be sure to

  read the first book in Laura Martin’s

  The Ashburton Reunion duet

  Flirting with His Forbidden Lady

  And why not check out these other

  great reads by Laura Martin

  The Viscount’s Runaway Wife

  The Brooding Earl’s Proposition

  Her Best Friend, the Duke

  One Snowy Night with Lord Hauxton

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Captivating the Cynical Earl by Catherine Tinley.

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  Captivating the Cynical Earl

  by Catherine Tinley

  Chapter One

  London, March 1819

  ‘People of our class do not marry for love.’

  Augustus Henry John (Jack) Beresford, Eighth Earl of Hawkenden set down his wine and glared at his younger brother, who made no reply. Outrage and shock warred within him. Tom is married, and thinks himself ‘in love’? Lord, what a fix!

  ‘Tell me this is a jest, Tom, designed to make me laugh.’

  Tom shook his head, his hesitant smile fading. ‘It is true. I am lately married. I did write to inform you of it, Jack. Indeed, I have not as yet made any public announcement as I wished to ensure you were the first to know in London.’

  The two men were shut away in Jack’s library in the London townhouse, seated facing one another in matching armchairs. Outside, darkness was falling, and the servants had closed the shutters against the chill of early spring. Tom had accepted Jack’s offer of wine but had seemed unusually nervous. Jack now understood why.

  ‘You know I am just returned from France,’ he declared bluntly. ‘I have not yet opened my correspondence.’ Jack’s hands tightened on the arms of the chair as disbelief gave way to anger. ‘How could you marry like that, without as much as discussing it with me beforehand?’

  Tom’s eyes flashed. ‘Because,’ he rejoined haughtily, ‘I need no man’s permission to marry. Our parents are long dead, and I am eight-and-twenty years old. I reached my majority many years ago, brother!’

  Jack blinked. This was most unlike Tom, who would normally consult him on anything of importance. ‘As head of the family, I would expect—’

  ‘Head of the family, is it? We both forswore that nonsense after Papa’s death!’ Tom’s face had reddened a little, and he sat straighter in his chair. ‘You may be the Earl, but we both know that Papa—the former head of the family—had quite ruined your inheritance. People of our class,’ Tom added pointedly, ‘do not take such an active role in matters of business as we do.’

  ‘That is different.’

  ‘How? How is it different?’

  At that moment, Jack, strangely, could not find the words. ‘It just is.’

  ‘Pah!’ Tom’s dismissive gesture was one that would have led to a fist fight when he was eight and Jack ten. Now that they were twenty-eight and thirty, that would be entirely inappropriate. Still, bile rising within him, Jack considered for a moment how satisfying it would be to draw his brother’s cork. Manfully, he resisted the impulse.

  Why could Tom not see how important this was? Marriage was the single biggest decision a man could make. A lifelong commitment, with implications for the entire family. Why had he gone ahead without even telling Jack? He looked Tom in the eye. ‘So who is she?’

  ‘Who is who?’ Tom’s dander was definitely up.

  ‘Your dear lady wife.’ Jack’s lip curled. ‘And, more to the point, how much has it cost me—cost us—in marriage settlements?’

  Tom gritted his teeth. ‘You will speak of Nell with respect, or we shall not speak of her at all!’

  ‘Let us not speak of her at all, then!’ Jack flashed back.

  ‘As you wish.’ There was a silence. The clock ticked, and the fire spat. Between the brothers the air was tight with unspoken words.

  After a long moment Tom rose, set down his glass and adjusted his cuffs. ‘I shall wish you goodday, brother.’ With the shallowest of bows, he turned on his heel and marched out, vexation writ clearly in the tense lines of his figure.

  The door closed behind him with a loud click, and the Earl stared at it for a long moment, scarcely able to take in what had just occurred. His hands gripped the arms of his chair. Tom, married? Never!

  He could barely take it in. He and Tom were close—much closer than many of their friends were to their own families. Or, at least, so Jack had thought.

  * * *

  Lady Cecily Thornhill was in a fix. Having carefully counted out what remained of this month’s allowance, she now knew it would not be enough. Leaning both elbows on the fine mahogany table, she cradled her head in her hands.

  Lord, how are we to manage this time?

  Once again, Cecily had had to use her own precious funds to settle her mama’s accounts, leaving her purse almost empty. Under usual circumstances—had they been staying at Ledbury House, where she had been born, for example—she might have managed until next month’s allowance arrived. But they were in London and were expected to attend routs and balls and Almack’s, suitably attired, as well as paying for their hotel. All of that required money. Money that was now in short supply.

  She lifted her head and addressed her mama, who was currently sipping tea from a fine china cup. ‘Mama, why did you order that new bonnet?’ Her tone was low, and she tried hard to keep the frustration from showing. Mama had just returned from visiting with one of her friends and had sunk into a satin-covered chair with some relief, declaring that her feet ached.

  ‘Because I liked it, of course! Lord, what a foolish question! Why does any lady order new clothes?’ She laughed for a long moment at her own wit then, realising her daughter had remained stony-faced, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Cecily, never say you have paid for it!’

  ‘Well, of course I have! I was never so mortified as when Mrs Newcomb the milliner came to see you today to ask for payment.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, child! I declare you have the soul of a cit! People like us do not need to settle our bills on time, because the likes of Mrs Newcomb knows that to have the patronage of me, Lady Fanny Thornhill, Dowager Countess of Kingswood, does much more for her business than a trivial bill for a bonnet that, on reflection, was not as pretty as I had believed it to be.’

  ‘But, Mama, you cannot afford another bonnet.’ Cecily spoke quietly but firmly. She had never won this particular argument but refused to concede defeat.

  ‘Of course I can! For eight years—since the very day your father died—people have been telling me that I cannot afford things, that I must practise economy and be sensible with my allowance. And I have continued to live in exactly the way I want to, and yet none of these dire predictions, such as bankruptcy, have come to pass.’

  ‘But that is because other people have helped you. Your friends, and Ash—’

  ‘Ash evicted us from our home. The least he can do is to pay my bills now and again.’

  ‘Mama, please. That is unfair, and you know it. As the new Earl, Ash was perfectly entitled to move into Ledbury House, as you are well aware. He and Marianne have made it clear that we can stay there any time we wish, and the dower house remains at your disposal.’

  Marianne, who had first come to Ledbury House as governess to the then twelve-year-old Cecily, became Lady Kingswood soon afterwards. She and Ash had provided a refuge for Cecily and her mother over the years, on the occasion
s when Lady Fanny’s financial difficulties became too pressing.

  Lady Fanny dismissed this with a wave of her hand. ‘Pah! I have no wish to visit the wilds of tedious Bedfordshire. I should much rather be here in London now the season is almost upon us.’

  ‘The season will not properly begin for nearly a month. We really had no need to arrive so soon. And, besides, how shall we pay for it all?’ One hand to her brow, Cecily indicated the luxurious suite they were currently renting. ‘How much will it cost to stay here, in one of the most expensive hotels in London? We have been here only a week, and already I cannot sleep easily at night for worrying about the cost.’ She bit back the harsher words she wished to say to her mama.

  Oh, if only I had the freedom to manage our money!

  Over the years, with Ash’s support, she had engaged in learning as much as she could about matters of finance and had occasionally even advised Ash on dilemmas to do with business. She had, she knew, an aptitude for such matters, although it meant little in the face of her mama’s spending habits.

  Lady Fanny tilted her head to one side. ‘You know, Cecily, if I could not distinctly remember the agonies of birthing you, I would wonder if you were my child at all. I simply do not understand why you should worry about such trivialities.’

  Since Fanny and Cecily looked quite alike—both fair-haired and rosy-cheeked, although Cecily’s eyes were amber while her mama’s were blue—this required no comment from Cecily. She did, however, object to her mama’s characterisation of their eternally perilous finances.

  ‘Trivialities! Why—’

  ‘Enough.’ Lady Fanny’s tone brooked no further disagreement. ‘This very day I have managed to secure an invitation for us to stay with one of my friends.’

  Cecily’s shoulders sagged in relief. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘You should have more faith in me, child. I always contrive in the end.’

 

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