Once Upon A Townsbridge Story: A Townsbridge Prequel (The Townsbridges, #1)

by Sophie Barnes

  Perhaps just for a moment?

  His mother would kill him if she found him hiding away on the terrace when he was supposed to be writing his name on dance cards. He considered the row of wallflowers waiting with hopeful eyes directed at each passing gentleman and decided he’d dance with them all this evening. But not until he’d had a chance to cool down a little.

  Following the periphery of the room, he reached the French doors leading onto the terrace and stepped out into the fresh night air. A sigh of relief escaped him as a welcome breeze glided over his hair. He took an invigorating sip of his drink and moved further away from the ballroom to where the air wasn’t hampered by the wide façade of his parents’ home.

  A lone woman, silhouetted against the dark garden beyond, was standing near the railing. Charles slowed his progress and prepared to retreat to the opposite corner of the terrace so as not to intrude or risk ruining her reputation by being alone with her.

  But then she turned as if sensing him there, and Charles’s heart stumbled. It was she, the young lady from the lake, with the eyes he’d never forget and the smile that did curious things to his insides.

  She stared at him as if he’d arrived from a dream she’d been having, as if she would happily risk losing other belongings if it would provide an excuse for them to see each other again. Which Charles acknowledged was the oddest contemplation he’d ever had when he didn’t know one thing about her. Besides the fact that she was curious, forward, and prepared to abandon decorum, at least to sprint after her bonnet.

  “I should arrange for a proper introduction,” he said, because that was the only thing that seemed to matter right now – discovering who she was and being allowed to ask her to dance.

  She parted her lips as if to respond, but then she appeared to register something and the momentary hint of delight he’d glimpsed was instantly brought to an end. Puzzled, Charles failed to notice the approaching footsteps, but then he felt a hand slap his back and he turned to meet Robert’s sparkling eyes.

  A rough bit of laughter escaped him. “God, it’s good to see you again after all this time. I missed our weekly game of billiards.”

  Robert grinned. “I’ve much to tell you, my friend, most importantly perhaps, the fact that I’ve gotten engaged.”

  Charles stared at the man whom he knew so well and then laughed. “Truly? You must introduce me at once to the marvelous woman who’s managed to tempt you with marriage.”

  Robert beamed. “It would seem you’ve already met her.” He gestured to the side and Charles followed the movement with the sense that the flame burning bright in his chest was about to be snuffed out forever. The lady from the lake filled his vision, and as he stared into her gorgeous blue eyes, Robert said, “Allow me to present my fiancée, Lady Bethany Andrews.”

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  His Lady to Wed

  PENELOPE CHADWICK WATCHED the countryside tumble by as the carriage rolled south, ever conscious of Mr. Daniel Westshire, who occupied the seat beside her. He was her best friend, the man she loved. And now, because he was her guardian, he intended for her to marry another. It simply wasn’t fair.

  Their fathers, Mr. Andrew Chadwick and Mr. Geoffrey Westshire, had known each other since childhood, so it came as no great surprise when her father made Geoffrey her guardian seven years earlier when he died. Geoffrey had been incredibly kind to her. When her cousin, the odious man who’d inherited her father’s estate, informed her she was no longer welcome in the house she’d grown up in, Geoffrey had welcomed her into his home and treated her like part of the family. Unfortunately, he’d only outlived Andrew by five years, leaving Penelope in Daniel’s care.

  With her twenty-first birthday looming and the Season approaching fast, Daniel had decided it was time for her to start dipping her toes in the Social waters so she would be better prepared for London balls and soirees once invitations arrived. For although she’d made her debut at the age of seventeen, Mr. Geoffrey Westshire’s declining health in the year that followed, then his ensuing death, had prevented Penelope from engaging in additional functions since she and Daniel had both been in mourning.

  Only five years her senior, he’d seen to his duties since with remarkable dedication and an admirable sense of responsibility. And he’d always found time for her between his ledgers and estate management, quizzing her on history, science, and mathematics from time to time just to keep her on her toes. For although she’d been out of the schoolroom now for the past five years, Daniel was of the opinion that one should never stop learning. Retaining facts kept the mind sharp, he’d say.

  She glanced at him. “I wish you had turned down the invitation to this house party, Daniel.”

  “Have I not asked you to address me as Mr. Westshire?” Daniel asked. He dragged his gaze away from the book he was reading in order to look at her.

  Penelope did her best to keep all emotion carefully hidden, but it was hard not to be dazzled by those chestnut-colored eyes or the pull of his lips as he smiled at her wryly. She took a deep breath to steady her heartbeat. “You and I have never been quite so formal.”

  “That does not mean we ought not to have been.”

  “Perhaps,” she agreed while fighting the brief pang of pain his words caused.

  “And I worry you’ll slip in a social setting unless you start being more formal with me at all times.” His smile vanished. “Similarly, I can no longer afford to call you Penny.”

  She sighed and gave her attention back to the view. “Nothing will ever be as it once was, will it?”

  “No. We cannot go back.”

  She scoffed in response to that. If she’d known this was where her path would lead, she would have fled his estate and taken her chances on her own years ago. Better that than to have the man she’d fallen in love with marry her off to someone else.

  The house party would only be the beginning. What she really dreaded was the Season and the expectations Daniel would have of her. On one hand, she did not wish to let him down, but on the other she wanted to scream in frustration at the thought of being put on display for other men by the only man she wanted. Life could be cruel, as proven by the fact that she’d lost her mother at birth and her dear Papa before she’d reached her majority.

  “You cannot force me to wed,” she said.

  A brief silence followed, during which she could sense him frowning. And then he said, “Do you not want a family of your own with children to dote on?”

  “Of course I do. I just don’t want to be pushed into marriage before I am ready.”

  “Miss Chadwick.” He spoke her name with exasperation. “You are going to be one and twenty soon, so while I appreciate your desire for delay, you can only wait so long.”

  “I suppose.”

  “There will be several eligible bachelors present at Hampstead House. Participating in the house party will give you an advantage by allowing you to engage with them before they’re overrun by eager debutantes in London.”

  “You sound quite eager to rid yourself of me.”

  He was the one to scoff this time. “If that is what you believe, then you are mistaken, though I would like to remind you it is my duty to see you settled. The older you get, the harder that will become.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You’re only five years my senior, Mr. Westchester. If I’m almost on the shelf then you’re verging on the decrepit.”

  A snort from the opposite side of the carriage compartment drew Penelope’s attention to Fran, her maid and chaperone.

  “Sorry,” Fran muttered, her lips trembling as she fought back her laughter. “A sneeze.”

  “Hmm...” Daniel gave his attention back to his book while Penelope returned hers to the view.

  The conversation was clearly over according to Daniel, which was just as well. Penelope didn’t want to argue with him lest he think her ungrateful. Which she
wasn’t. Not at all. Daniel had been particularly kind and considerate toward her these past seven years since her father’s passing. He’d done his utmost to make her feel at home on his estate, had offered her companionship and guidance, and had always treated her like his equal.

  They’d explored the surrounding countryside together, both on horseback and on foot. The stolen moments they’d made for themselves, lying side by side between the wildflowers as they watched clouds breeze by, were among her favorite. Along with that one time they’d built a birdhouse together, or when they’d scratched their names in one of the upstairs windows, not to mention the care with which he’d watched over her one winter when she’d been sick.

  No. She wasn’t the least bit ungrateful, merely saddened by the idea of having to leave him soon. Mostly by the fact that he clearly wanted her to be someone else’s obligation.

  DANIEL WAS IN A SNIT. There was no other way to explain the constant irritation dogging him like some scruffy mutt desperate for scraps. Standing, arms crossed, on the Hampstead House terrace, he glared across the lawn at the spot where Penelope strolled with Viscount Trevinton. As amicable as the young man seemed, he was utterly wrong for Penelope. So were the rest of the gentlemen present.

  Daniel clenched his jaw. He wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking when he decided to bring her here to be paraded about like some desperate soon-to-be spinster. It was foolish - the utmost of stupidity—when all he dreamt of these days was sweeping her into his arms and kissing her senseless.

  An inappropriate thought to be sure, taking into account his position in relation to hers. And besides, she didn’t feel the same way or he would have sensed it. But no. She’d never given him reason to think she would ever return his affection. If anything, the flirty smiles and giggles she offered Trevinton proved her interest lay elsewhere, and all it had taken was one bloody week.

  He huffed a breath. If only he could control his heart and stop himself from loving her. But the fact was, the crafty emotion had snuck up on him so gradually, he’d not even seen it coming until it was too late. He’d told her things he’d never revealed to anyone else, had shared all the ups and downs of everyday life with her, besides which there had been jokes, teasing, and endless laughter. She’d been his rock during the hardest time of his life, holding him up and giving support with words of assurance. Had it not been for her, his father’s death would likely have destroyed him.

  “Why don’t you tell her how you feel?” his friend’s wife, Lavinia Riverdale, Countess of Hampstead, asked when she came to join him. Her husband had invited Daniel to go riding, but the sport held no appeal at the moment.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you really want me to treat you like a fool?”

  Daniel glanced at his hostess. “No.” He shook his head in defeat. “Am I really so transparent?”

  “Only to me and Hampstead, I think. We know you well enough to discern your moods, and the one you’re currently in can be caused only by two things: financial disaster or unrequited love. Given your reputation for keeping your ledgers in perfect order, the first is unlikely. However, since you have spent your entire week here keeping track of Miss Chadwick’s every movement while watching the men she’s been speaking with in a manner that made us fear you might wish them bodily harm, it seems like an infatuation is the obvious cause.”

  “I am not infatuated with her.” What he felt was so much more.

  “No?” Lady Hampstead queried.

  “No,” he told her succinctly.

  “Then all the more reason to tell her, wouldn’t you say?”

  To Daniel’s relief Lady Hampstead withdrew without waiting for him to respond, and went to socialize with some of her other guests. He gave his attention back to Penelope and Lord Trevinton, who appeared to be heading farther away from the house, toward the trees in the distance. Soon they’d be quite out of sight. Daniel glanced around while panic rushed through him. Where was Penelope’s maid when he needed her most?

  Muttering a curse, Daniel descended the stairs toward the lawn and set off at a brisk pace. Penelope was not getting compromised on his watch by some randy young lad intent on stealing kisses.

  If anyone was going to kiss Penelope, it would be he.

  Damn, damn, and once again, damn!

  PENELOPE WAS ENJOYING Viscount Trevinton’s company. The young man had a jovial disposition, his ready smiles a welcome change from Daniel’s constant glower. Penelope could not imagine what was wrong with her old friend. Coming here had been his idea, yet ever since their arrival he’d been irritable to the point of rudeness, which wasn’t like him at all. Of course, he refused to talk to her about it. When she’d inquired about the reason for his ill temper, he’d stared at her for a long, hard moment in silence, then walked away.

  Considering how charming and friendly he usually was, Penelope found this change in him baffling. She also felt like it put a wedge between them. Instead of the increased closeness she’d grown accustomed to sharing with him, there was now a massive, unsurpassable void.

  It was most disconcerting and caused her own spirit to sag in a way she intensely disliked. So it was nice to get away with Trevinton for a bit and pretend all was as it should be - to forget that the man she loved not only wished to be rid of her, but now also seemed to be angry with her for some reason beyond her own comprehension.

  “I don’t think your guardian likes me much,” Trevinton said as they strolled. “Whenever I’ve tried to speak with him, he responds in a clipped tone and with a glare. If I’m to be honest, it makes me a little wary of trying to court you.”

  “Would you wish to?” Penelope hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but she supposed she should. Finding a suitor was the reason she was here, and Trevinton had been giving her a great deal of attention these last few days.

  “Only if you’re amicable to the idea.” He gave her a hesitant glance. “I like you, Miss Chadwick, and I believe we could get along well with each other.”

  There was something incredibly endearing about his approach. He almost sounded shy now, whereas he’d been far more open and outgoing before. It charmed her, in a way, but it did not make her heart beat faster.

  “I like you too,” she said, deciding to start on a positive note. “And I have enjoyed your company tremendously. In fact, I’d like for us to build on our newfound friendship, though I fear there cannot be more than that.”

  “It’s my understanding that friendship can lead to great affection and, with enough time, even love. In my estimation friendship would be an excellent place for us to start. It would offer us a solid foundation for happiness, don’t you think?”

  “I...um...”

  Trevinton drew her to a halt. He clasped her hands and smiled at her.

  Oh dear. This was almost worse than a proposal. He was going to formally ask for permission to court her. She could see it in his eyes. And she would turn him down, which meant she’d not just be saying no to marrying him, but to even considering such a possibility.

  Perhaps she could stop him? She cleared her throat. “My lord.”

  “Miss Chadwick,” Trevinton countered. He gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “I—”

  “Viscount Trevinton.” Daniel’s cutting voice made Penelope turn. He was coming toward them, crossing the lawn with purposeful strides, and then he was suddenly right there. “I’d like a word with Miss Chadwick, please.”

  “But... I... Of course.” Trevinton straightened his spine, gave a swift bow, and said, “I look forward to continuing this conversation with you later, Miss Chadwick.”

  Penelope waited until the viscount was well out of earshot before she rounded on her acerbic guardian. “What is it?”

  “What’s what?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You said you wanted a word with me, which would suggest you have something to say.”

  “Nothing in particular.”

  Penelope stared at him. “Nothing in particular?”


  “I merely desired your company and grew weary of Trevinton monopolizing it.”

  “So you decided to chase him away.”

  Daniel gave her a curious look. “You aren’t seriously considering him as a possible prospect, are you?”

  Irritated by Daniel’s overbearingness, she deliberately shrugged one shoulder and started strolling away. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?”

  She smiled, then quickly schooled her features when she sensed him striding up behind her. One second later he was at her side. She angled her chin in order to meet his gaze. “Trevinton is handsome, educated, clever, witty, and kind. Plus, he has an attractive title.”

  Was it just her imagination or did Daniel’s frown deepen with each favorable quality she listed? Curious, that.

  “He’s too young. Barely a day older than you.”

  “And?” When he said nothing, she asked, “Would you rather I give my attentions to Mr. Evert?”

  “No!”

  She chuckled. Mr. Evert was the oldest bachelor in attendance. Penelope estimated him to be well into his fifties.

  They strolled past some trees in silence and would soon reach the pond. Penelope tried to think of something to say. She wanted to ask Daniel about his curious behavior toward her and everyone else, but feared he’d react as he had before - with annoyance.

  “Are you smitten with him?”

  Penelope blinked. “What?”

  Daniel raised his gaze toward the sky as if praying for patience. “Do you find Trevinton compelling?”

  For a second, Penelope was tempted to say that she’d never found anyone more so, but that would be dishonest, and one of the things she’d always valued most about her relationship with Daniel was how forthright they’d always been with each other. Whatever was going on now between them, she did not want to lie.

  “He’s a wonderful person, and I’m sure he will make some young lady an excellent husband one day, but it won’t be me.”

  Daniel gave her a sharp look. “Why the hell not?”