A Duke for Miss Townsbridge

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by Sophie Barnes




  A Duke for Miss Townsbridge

  The Townsbridges, Volume 4

  Sophie Barnes

  Published by Sophie Barnes, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  A DUKE FOR MISS TOWNSBRIDGE

  First edition. October 20, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Sophie Barnes.

  ISBN: 978-1393418573

  Written by Sophie Barnes.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  By Sophie Barnes | Novels

  Novellas

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  An Unexpected Temptation | Chapter One

  Acknowledgments

  About The Author

  Sign up for Sophie Barnes's Mailing List

  Further Reading: When Love Leads To Scandal

  By Sophie Barnes

  Novels

  The Formidable Earl

  Her Seafaring Scoundrel

  The Forgotten Duke

  More Than A Rogue

  The Infamous Duchess

  No Ordinary Duke

  The Illegitimate Duke

  The Girl Who Stepped Into The Past

  The Duke of Her Desire

  Christmas at Thorncliff Manor

  A Most Unlikely Duke

  His Scandalous Kiss

  The Earl’s Complete Surrender

  Lady Sarah’s Sinful Desires

  The Danger in Tempting an Earl

  The Scandal in Kissing an Heir

  The Trouble with Being a Duke

  The Secret Life of Lady Lucinda

  There’s Something About Lady Mary

  Lady Alexandra’s Excellent Adventure

  How Miss Rutherford Got Her Groove Back

  Novellas

  A Duke for Miss Townsbridge

  Falling For Mr. Townsbridge

  Lady Abigail’s Perfect Romance

  When Love Leads To Scandal

  Miss Compton’s Christmas Romance

  The Duke Who Came To Town

  The Earl Who Loved Her

  The Governess Who Captured His Heart

  Mistletoe Magic (from Five Golden Rings: A Christmas Collection)

  Chapter One

  IT WAS THE PERFECT day for an outdoor activity.

  Just not this particular sort of outdoor activity.

  Gripping her glass of lemonade as if her sanity depended on not letting the fine crystal slip between her fingers, Sarah Townsbridge tried to focus on what Mr. Hastings was saying. Something about how he’d once helped one of his tenants fix a broken plough – an account that could have been entertaining had he not veered off into a technical description comprising long lists of very confusing terms.

  She nodded politely to feign an interest.

  Her brother, William, had only just gotten married two days earlier, and already her mother had managed to pool together an astounding number of bachelors. It was what she’d threatened to do several weeks ago – before William’s return from Portugal. With her eldest sons, Charles and James, already settled and Will far away, Sarah’s mother had set her sights on her eldest daughter next.

  But then, as if Lady Luck herself had smiled upon Sarah, Will had returned and quickly snatched all attention away from her by courting their mother’s new cook. The reprieve had been short lived however, and now the garden was filled with a wide array of gentlemen who seemed to have been let loose for her amusement.

  It was without a doubt the most embarrassing experience of her life. Made more so a short while later when Viscount Belmont decided to ask who else might be coming.

  “No one,” she said, her cheeks hot with mortification. “At least, not as far as I know.”

  “I see.” Seemingly uncertain of whether to apologize for his blunder or try to pretend he’d not just insulted her, Belmont looked askance. “The weather is certainly fine this time of year.”

  “Indeed it is.” Sarah offered a smile while thinking of all the ways in which she’d like to kill her mother.

  “The sun is shining and the sky is blue.” Belmont returned his attention to Sarah. “It’s quite pleasant.”

  She ground her teeth. “Indeed.”

  “Sarah, dear,” her mother said as she strolled up with the sort of relaxed posture that only intensified Sarah’s murderous thoughts, “have you met the Earl of Penwood yet?”

  “Yes. I do believe I’ve met everyone.”

  “There’s also the Earl of Endry,” her mother said. “Perhaps if you will excuse us a moment, Lord Belmont?”

  “Of course.” The earl practically sagged with relief.

  Sarah glanced at her mother’s neck while the woman steered her away. How hard would it be to strangle her? “This is the worst event you’ve ever planned.”

  “There’s also Mr. Cummings and Mr. Dunnings,” Mama said, clearly ignoring Sarah’s complaint.

  “Am I your least favorite child? Is that why you’ve chosen to torture me this way?”

  “Nonsense, dearest. I love all my children equally. You know that.”

  Sarah did know that. She also knew it was why her mother was making her go through this horrid ordeal. Because she wanted Sarah to find the same happiness she’d shared with her husband - the sort Sarah’s brothers had all been blessed with in recent years.

  With a sigh, she allowed her eager mother to lead her across the grass to where the aforementioned gentlemen had gathered. Like a lamb to the slaughter. “Honestly, Mama. I’m not sure your method is very effective.”

  Mama drew to a halt and faced her. “Perhaps not, Sarah. But with six failed Seasons behind us, what else am I supposed to do? The time for you to marry is swiftly running out.”

  It was a fair point. Especially since Sarah did not want to be a spinster. She desired a husband and children of her own - lots of them actually since her dreams for the future included a home similar to the one she’d been raised in. She wished for the sort of relationship her parents enjoyed – the closeness her brothers had found with their wives. In short, she wanted a love match which, as it turned out, wasn’t something one simply went out and found. Lord knew she’d tried. And given up. So here she was, two and twenty years old and well on her way to becoming an ape leader.

  Sarah took a deep breath. Maybe Mama’s idea wasn’t too terrible. It certainly deserved thought. And there were a few gentlemen here with whom she’d never before conversed at great length. Perhaps she should make more of an effort to further her acquaintance with them.

  “Remember,” her mother added while they walked across the grass. “All of these men are here to see you. This is your chance to shine.”

  “Very well.” Sarah forced a smile as they approached the group of bachelors.

  “Lord Penwood and Lord Endry,” Mama said with spirited gusto. “Mr. Cummings and Mr. Dunnings. I thought I’d bring Miss Townsbridge over here for a bit so you can get to know her better.”

  “What an excellent idea,” Lord Endry said. At the same height as Sarah, he wasn’t imposing or even especially handsome, but his eyes were kind and his smile looked genuine. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about your interests.”

  “I, um...oh.” Sarah cleared her throat and regarded the four expectant faces before her. “I am particularly fond of outdoor games like pall mall and shuttlecock. When I’m in the countryside, I like to fish.”

  “Truly?” Mr. Dunnings asked with a keen degree of inte
rest.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “I find it relaxing.”

  “I know a great spot just outside of London,” Mr. Dunnings said. “I would be honored to take you one day.”

  “What about riding?” Lord Penwood inquired before Sarah had a chance to accept Mr. Dunnings’s offer.

  “Certainly,” Sarah agreed. She glanced at them each in turn. “I love to ride.”

  Satisfied murmurs followed and then Lord Endry asked, “Perhaps you would allow me to take you out in my curricle tomorrow?”

  “Well yes,” Sarah said, both startled and a bit overwhelmed by these men’s keenness. “That would be—“

  “Now, now,” Mr. Dunnings said with a sly grin. “I did mention fishing first. You’ll have to get in line, Lord Endry.”

  Sarah blinked. She couldn’t quite believe what was happening. For the first time since she’d made her debut at the age of sixteen, men were making an effort to get to know her. More than that, they were starting to compete for the chance to take her out.

  She glanced at her mother, who practically beamed with pleasure.

  “I rather fancy a good book,” Lord Penwood remarked. “Do you have a penchant for literature, Miss Townsbridge?”

  “Indeed I do. I’m currently reading The Memoires of Benjamin Franklin.”

  “Are you really?” Lord Penwood looked both surprised and satisfied. “I like that. Shows a desire to read for more than pleasure alone. Do you know, I’m not sure why we’ve never spoken before, but I’m certainly glad I accepted your mother’s invitation. Perhaps we can—”

  “I say,” Mr. Cummings declared. “Who is that?”

  Everyone turned.

  “Dear me,” Sarah’s mother murmured in response to the tall figure stalking toward them as though he was on a crusade of some sort.

  “It can’t be,” Sarah said. “Did you invite him?”

  “That,” Lord Penwood said in answer to Cummings’s question, “would appear to be the Duke of Brunswick.”

  Sarah clenched her jaw. Brunswick had bought the house next door years ago, but whenever Mama had invited him to join them for dinner or to take tea, he’d not even deigned a response. He was the very personification of pure arrogance - the sort of man who looked down his nose at those who ranked lower than he. Which included most of England.

  “I didn’t even think to include him,” Mama murmured while Brunswick drew ever nearer.

  Of course she wouldn’t have. Perhaps that was why he’d shown up? Because he felt overlooked? Sarah stared at him, attempting to gauge his motive. Tall and lean with almost black hair matching the shade of his eyes, an angular jaw, and a perfectly shaped nose—if that were even a thing—he was without doubt one of the most striking men Sarah had ever seen. He might even have been the handsomest if not for the slightly condescending tilt of his lips.

  This was the sort of man who believed he was better than everyone else - who was sure he could have whatever his heart desired. All he need do was snap his fingers and his every wish would come true. And yet, even as she made this assessment, Sarah noticed a slightly haunted look about him. Mostly in the vicinity of his eyes.

  She shook herself. It had to be a trick of the light.

  He halted a few feet from where she stood. Utterly serious, with his mouth pressed into a firm line of pure determination, he met her gaze. Sarah’s heart began racing. Something wasn’t right. He’d no cause to be here. What on earth could he possibly want?

  The answer to this question became clear within the next second when he dropped to one knee. Sarah’s mother gasped and Sarah almost leapt to Brunswick’s aid, certain he must have suffered some sort of seizure. It was the only thing that made sense until he looked up and she noticed he was holding a ring.

  What. On. Earth?

  “Marry me.”

  No declaration of love, no explanation for why he’d chosen to pose such an impromptu question to someone he’d never even been introduced to. Just a demand.

  Indignation poured through her until she fairly shook with an almost mad desire to fall on him like some enraged harpy and pummel him until he cried for mercy. Thus far, this had been the most humiliating day of her life, but until this precise moment, she’d still been able to chalk it up to one of those things one simply forgot and moved past.

  Well, there was no moving past a kneeling duke. By the time the last guest departed, word would already have spread to every corner of every parlor in London, mostly because of what she knew she would say. There wasn’t a choice.

  Best get it over and done with then.

  “No.”

  Her mother gasped again. The other gentlemen went so still Sarah could actually feel their shocked expressions upon her skin.

  Brunswick blinked. “I said, marry me.”

  As if the disaster warranted repeating. Good lord. Perhaps she should try a different response.

  “No, thank you,” she said. That was really the extent of what she could manage right now in terms of politeness. When Brunswick remained where he was, still holding his ring forth like some sort of trophy he’d won in a joust, Sarah turned to her mother. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I completely understand,” her mother said, frowning at the duke.

  Determined to ignore him, Sarah addressed the other gentlemen present. “Thank you so much for coming. I’m much obliged to all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules in order to be here. Shall I expect to go fishing with you tomorrow Mr. Dunnings, or am I to ride with you in your curricle, Lord Endry? I’m not entirely sure we agreed on when I’d be seeing whom.”

  “Ah...” Mr. Dummings said, sounding much like a man getting strangled. “Now that I think of it, I do believe I have some business that will take me out of Town for a while.”

  “Me too,” Lord Endry quipped, to which Mr. Cummings and Lord Penwood hastily nodded as if they too intended to make themselves scarce for a while.

  Sarah stared at them all as realization dawned. The spectacle Brunswick had caused, coupled with her act of publically turning him down, had made the other men re-think their interest.

  “In that case, I bid you good day,” she told them curtly. Her only goal now was to escape the humiliation. And so she hurried away, without a backward glance to check if Brunswick was still on bended knee in the grass.

  MATTHEW STARED AFTER Miss Townsbridge in baffled astonishment. She’d rejected him. A duke. The most desirable option available on the marriage mart.

  For years he’d had to fend off debutantes and their mamas. And that was without taking into account the widows looking to aim a bit higher on their next trip to the altar.

  “Would you like a hand, Your Grace?”

  Matthew glanced at the young man offering assistance. He wasn’t the only one staring. A small crowd of onlookers jostled each other for a good look at the man who’d failed to secure the hand of a woman who ought to be thrilled with his offer.

  “That won’t be necessary.” Irritated, he rose. Every gentleman here had been invited to vie for Miss Townsbridge’s hand. When Matthew had realized what was going on – that a very deliberate effort was underway to marry her off – he’d made a snap decision to snatch her up before anyone else had the chance.

  It never once occurred to him that he might not succeed. And yet here he stood. Rejected.

  “Perhaps you’d like some lemonade?” a footman inquired.

  Only if it was spiked with brandy. Matthew scowled at the servant until the smile slipped from his face and he retreated.

  “May I please have a word with you?” a woman asked.

  Swinging around, Matthew dropped his gaze until he located Viscountess Roxley. “About what?”

  She leveled him a dry look. “Your offer, of course. My husband will want to meet with you to discuss the terms.”

  “But–”

  “In the future, it might serve you well to treat people with the sort of respect you expect in return. After all, one never knows
when a slight may come back to haunt you. This way.”

  Lady Roxley swept past him with the regalness of a queen. Matthew stared after her a moment, glanced at the other gentlemen milling about, and decided to follow.

  “Simmons,” Lady Roxley told the butler who’d admitted Matthew when he’d arrived, “please make sure the other gentlemen are shown out in an orderly fashion. Once they’ve gone, you may ask my husband to find me in the parlor. Come along, Your Grace.”

  She ushered Matthew into a neat room with stylish yet comfortable looking furniture and gestured toward an armchair. “Please have a seat while I fix us each a drink.”

  “While the request you’ve made for our daughter’s hand is greatly appreciated,” Lord Roxley said some fifteen minutes later after his wife had apprised him of the situation, “I’m not sure I understand the manner in which you chose to go about it. Or your reason for acting so rashly. As far as I know, you’ve never shown any member of this family much interest before, even though you’ve resided next door to us for...well, it must be about ten years by now.”

  “I prefer to keep to myself,” Matthew said.

  “I see. And will this preference of yours continue after you’ve married our daughter?”

  Matthew frowned. “I don’t intend to keep her locked up, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Dear me, I should hope not,” Lady Roxley muttered. She took a sip from the generous glass of brandy she’d served herself earlier.

  “Naturally, you will be welcome in our home,” Matthew said in the hope of squashing this strange concern. “She is your daughter, after all. If you’d like a gate in the fence between our properties, that can be arranged too.”

  “Really?” Lady Roxley didn’t sound the least bit convinced.

  Matthew sighed and decided it was time for a very large gulp of brandy. He savored the heat and spicy flavor along with the soothing languor that followed. “I’m not a horrible person. If I’ve given that impression by not accepting your invitations over the years, then I apologize. Truth is, I have a select group of friends I favor.” When Lord Roxley merely raised an eyebrow, Matthew said, “I’ve been watching your daughter a great deal lately.”

 

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