by Georgie Lee
Facing the past...
To build a future together!
Part of Secrets of a Victorian Household. Silas Fairclough’s new life in America is dramatically changed when he learns his mentor’s dying wish is for him to wed his ward. Silas’s marriage to beautiful, quiet Lady Mary Weddell will be a practical, sensible arrangement. But now his family in England needs him—and that means taking his bride back to the land of scandal and ruin she’d left behind...
Secrets of a Victorian Household
One family. Four unexpected romances!
The Fairclough Foundation, situated in the backstreets of Westminster in London, has become a vital safe haven for women down on their luck. At the helm is resilient widow Lilian Fairclough. But now Lilian and her two daughters, Millie and Lottie, find themselves in trouble, having not heard from Millie’s twin brother, Silas, for over six months...
With their dwindling funds threatening the foundation, the urgency to find out where exactly Silas is is greater than ever. And as they fight to save their livelihood, each family member is about to uncover scandalous, dangerous secrets...and find unexpected romance along the way!
Discover more in
Miss Lottie’s Christmas Protector by Sophia James
November 2019
Miss Amelia’s Mistletoe Marquess by Jenni Fletcher
December 2019
Mr. Fairclough’s Inherited Bride by Georgie Lee
January 2020
Lilian and the Irresistible Duke by Virginia Heath
February 2020
Georgie Lee
Mr. Fairclough’s
Inherited Bride
A lifelong history buff, Georgie Lee hasn’t given up hope that she will one day inherit a title and a manor house. Until then, she fulfills her dreams of lords, ladies and a Season in London through her stories. When not writing, she can be found reading nonfiction history or watching any film with a costume and an accent. Please visit georgie-lee.com to learn more about Georgie and her books.
Books by Georgie Lee
Harlequin Historical
Engagement of Convenience
The Courtesan’s Book of Secrets
The Captain’s Frozen Dream
Captain Rose’s Redemption
His Mistletoe Marchioness
Secrets of a Victorian Household
Mr. Fairclough’s Inherited Bride
The Business of Marriage
A Debt Paid in Marriage
A Too Convenient Marriage
The Secret Marriage Pact
The Governess Tales
The Cinderella Governess
Scandal and Disgrace
Rescued from Ruin
Miss Marianne’s Disgrace
Courting Danger with Mr. Dyer
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Anne, always in our hearts.
To Grandma, thank you.
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
Excerpt from The Secrets of Lord Lynford by Bronwyn Scott
Chapter One
Baltimore—September 1842
‘Gentlemen, listen.’ Silas rapped his knuckles on the polished top of the rosewood dining table, bringing the boisterous men in their black dinner jackets and white waistcoats surrounding it to attention. ‘If we can manufacture iron rails in America instead of relying on England, we could dominate the competition.’
‘But the English rails are far superior to ours,’ Mr Penniman answered, resting his hands on his round stomach. ‘As are their engines.’
‘They’re cheaper, too,’ Mr Baxter added, flicking away a small crumb sitting beside his plate.
‘The prices will shoot up if the government changes the tariff rates or something interrupts the English supply,’ Silas reminded them, determined to win these investors over to his idea. ‘If we build our own foundries and hire the best iron workers, buy from the best domestic suppliers, we can produce our own rails and lay them ten times quicker than the competition. It’ll ensure that the Baltimore Southern Railroad is the most impressive in America and at the forefront of innovation and development. We could even manufacture our own locomotives.’
The table erupted in a cacophony of disbelief and amazement with Mr Penniman and Mr Baxter astounded by the idea while Mr Wilson and Mr Farrow marvelled at the possibility.
At the far end of the table, Richard Jackson, Silas’s business partner and mentor, remained silent where he sat beside Lady Mary Weddell, his ward and hostess for tonight. He allowed the men to argue among themselves and left it to Silas to convince the wealthy investors to part with more money than they’d already supplied to the Baltimore Southern. Silas would not disappoint Richard or himself or allow other men’s lack of vision to dry up his income and keep him from sending home the money his family relied on for their upkeep. The Baltimore Southern would grow and succeed. He’d make damn sure of it.
‘America is heading west, gentleman.’ Silas raised his voice to gather the men’s attention. ‘When her boundaries reach the Pacific Ocean, new ports and trade routes with South America and the east will open up and provide untold opportunities. The railroads will be key to bridging the continent and reaping the benefits of those new opportunities.’
‘You can’t imagine the railways will stretch that far?’ Mr Penniman leaned forward to see past the other men to Silas. ‘It would take an engineering feat of immense proportions to traverse the Sierra Nevada.’
‘In time we’ll have those engineers and the equipment capable of conquering mountains. Already we’ve made it so that a man travelling from Kentucky to Washington, D.C. can do it in four days by rail instead of three weeks on horseback. Imagine being able to cross the county in a matter of weeks, of goods and raw materials reaching factories and markets as quickly. With your investment in the foundry we can take the first steps towards claiming this magnificent future.’
The men nodded and mumbled their agreement. Even those who’d been hesitant tilted their heads in thought at Silas’s proposal. Silas shifted in his chair, determined not to betray the excitement surging inside him. He’d won them over. He could feel it.
‘You do dream big, Mr Fairclough,’ the balding Mr Penniman said before leaning over to take the last sweet from the platter in the centre of the table.
‘His big dreams will overshadow all of us one of these days,’ Richard added, finally making his presence as the senior partner and the owner of this house felt. He held a handkerchief to his mouth and coughed as quietly as he could before sliding it back into his pocket. ‘The smart man would buy into the future while it’s still affordable.’
‘I assure you, gentleman, we aren’t the only ones having this discussion, but we must be the first to put our plans into action.’ Silas motioned for his valet, Tibbs, to instruct the footmen silently waiting alon
g the periphery of the dining room to refill the brandy glasses with the fine vintage Silas had procured from one of his best English sources. None of the servers made a move to top up Silas’s glass, though. Tonight required a clear head.
Mr Penniman covered the top of his crystal glass with his hand, glancing at Lady Mary Weddell to say that it was in deference to her that he exercised restraint. ‘No, thank you, I think I’ve had enough for the evening.’
‘Don’t deny yourself the pleasures of Mr Fairclough and Mr Jackson’s generosity on my account, Mr Penniman,’ Lady Mary encouraged, offering him and a number of the other gentlemen a smile that saw them sit back and allow their glasses to be refilled. ‘I refuse to let my presence parch a gentleman, especially while discussing matters that require a robust thirst.’
She motioned for a footman to place a new tray of sweets on the table in front of Mr Penniman. She’d been so sly in her ordering of the extra treats that not even Silas had noticed their arrival in the dining room. Clever girl.
Mr Penniman didn’t hesitate to select the largest chocolate dusted with white sugar. ‘You’re a very smart woman, Lady Mary. You’ll make some man very lucky one day.’
Lady Mary’s smile remained as beguiling as before but the sparkle she’d turned on Mr Penniman dulled. He was oblivious to the change in her as he savoured the chocolate, but Silas noticed it. It was the same painful regret that used to mar the drawn faces of the women who regularly appeared on the doorstep of the Fairclough Foundation, begging for help. He doubted Lady Mary shared that sort of misery, but the nagging feeling that something unpleasant had brought her to America was as difficult to ignore as her help in wooing the investors.
Silas motioned for Tibbs, who leaned down beside him. ‘Send Lady Mary a nice gift, something to thank her for her assistance tonight.’
‘How nice a gift, sir?’ The mental tally of Tibbs’s contacts at various Baltimore shops and goldsmiths was almost visible in his light grey eyes.
‘Ladylike exquisite.’ Silas raised his half-drunk glass of brandy to Lady Mary, who nodded serenely. She was a plain young woman he guessed to be about three or four years younger than his twenty-five, with lively and intelligent brown eyes which seemed to miss nothing about her surroundings. She wore her blonde hair in a more mature fashion without the barrel curls most young women preferred. Her slender waist and stomach were accentuated by full breasts that were well hidden beneath a high-necked and far too plain dark grey gown. Despite the puritan simplicity of her attire, she sat with the poise of a queen, seeing over the table and the dinner arrangements with the panache of an experienced hostess. If she wore better dresses and did her hair in a more becoming fashion, she would be striking, but standing out, as Silas had learned during the three months that she’d lived with Richard, was not her habit. Instead, she remained discreetly present, understanding the gravity of what Richard and Silas were trying to accomplish and coyly doing all she could to help them achieve it.
‘Yes, sir.’ Tibbs straightened and Silas was certain Lady Mary would like whatever Tibbs selected for her. Silas couldn’t speak to her tastes for he’d never enjoyed a private conversation with her beyond the weather. Despite them both being from England, she didn’t hail from the same barely respectable part of London that Silas did. Thankfully, most Yanks didn’t recognise the subtle difference in their accents, all to Silas’s benefit. The higher up the social ladder they believed him to be, the more favourably they viewed him and his wild ideas.
‘Gentlemen, here’s to us and the future success of the Baltimore Southern’s expansion.’ Richard raised his brandy glass, the level of the liquid inside of it as unchanged as Silas’s glass. The guests raised their drinks in answer, offering up a supportive cheer that made Silas smile. They’d secured the investors, even Mr Penniman who smiled at Lady Mary as widely as he did whenever his horse placed first in a race. Silas drained his brandy and motioned for Tibbs to refill it, ready to celebrate before tomorrow and the hard work began.
* * *
‘We did it.’ Silas relaxed into the leather wing-backed chair in Richard’s study and stretched his feet towards the roaring fire in the grate. The study was an impressive room full of fine wood furniture and leather chairs where Richard had spent years building up his wealth through various business ventures, though it was the railroads that were closest to his heart, as they were to Silas’s. Silas had been speechless the first time he’d stood in here, having stepped off the boat from England the day before, and he’d promised himself that one day he’d have a room like this. It was a pleasure to sit in this chair tonight and think of his study at home and how he’d achieved almost every goal he’d set for himself since leaving Liverpool nearly five years ago.
‘Not we, you.’ Richard removed his handkerchief from his pocket and coughed into it.
‘They wouldn’t have supported me if it weren’t for your influence.’ Silas traced the bottom of his brandy glass, wishing his ideas could stand on his reputation and merit, but he had yet to cultivate that kind of influence. More years in Baltimore establishing roots and a string of successes as long as the Baltimore Southern’s tracks would earn him the respect he craved. Until then, he was thankful for Richard’s influence and every opportunity he’d provided Silas since Silas had arrived in America. Without Richard, Silas would still be the penniless, prospectless nobody he’d been when he’d left Liverpool. Silas tapped his glass with the pad of his finger. He’d never be that man again. ‘I’ve already applied to the English patent owner for permission to build his locomotive here. Given what we’ve already invested in the steam works, it needs to start producing engines as soon as possible.’
The rails manufactured in the new foundry could be sold to other railroads to offset the cost of the Baltimore Southern’s investment, but stronger, faster engines were the real key to railroad’s future. Silas wished there were better American models to be had, but his adopted country had yet to produce a winning design. In time he was sure they would, but at present he needed the rights to the British one.
‘That engine will take the Baltimore Southern to new heights and success.’ Richard inhaled, the air rattling through his chest. ‘But sooner than any of us would like, you’ll have to win over investors without me.’
‘You aren’t thinking of retiring, are you?’ Richard lived for his work.
‘I’m dying, Silas.’
The same tightening of his stomach that’d almost made him retch ten years ago when his mother had stepped out of his father’s sickroom to hand Silas his father’s signet ring hovered about him like the heat from the fire. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I consulted a number of medical men while I was in Philadelphia, the best in the country. They confirmed what I’ve suspect for some time.’
‘That can’t be.’ Silas hadn’t missed the coughing or the gradual thinning of Richard’s body over the last year, but he’d ignored it and everything it meant, hoping it wasn’t true, willing it to not be true. ‘There must be some treatment here or in Europe. They’re more advanced there than most of the quacks here who still think bleeding is the cure for everything.’
‘No, Silas, you and I can struggle and strive against a great many things, but not this.’ Richard sank into his chair, his slender body almost engulfed by the rich leather. ‘I only regret that I won’t be able to see the transcontinental railroad you envision. You’re a dreamer, with a knack for making them come true, and I’m proud of you for it and for everything you’ve done since you first showed up on my doorstep with a letter of introduction from Jasper King and little more than a worn suit and a couple of British pounds. I took a chance that you were worthy of Jasper’s trust and mine, and you’ve proven me right at every turn. You’ve gone from someone with nothing to part-owner of a railroad with a tidy income of your own that will only grow a great deal larger after tonight.’
‘Don’t curse us. All we
have are their promises. We don’t have their money yet or the tracks laid or the patent to the English steam engine.’ Silas took a deep pull of brandy. Apparently, they didn’t have a future together in the venture either. No, many people lived with consumption for years, there was no reason to think Richard couldn’t, too.
‘I don’t mean the railroad. I have no children, no wife, my life spent married to my business and increasing my fortune. There are days when I think that was a mistake, until I see you.’ He reached over and laid a fatherly hand on Silas’s arm. ‘You’re like a son to me, Silas, I don’t want to see the same loneliness befall you.’
‘It won’t. In time, I’ll marry.’ Matrimony was not uppermost in his mind tonight, or any other night as of late.
‘I also don’t want to have what I’ve built up fall to pieces. I’m leaving you not only my share of the railway, but almost all of my estate.’
‘I don’t want it.’
Or deserve it.
He didn’t wish to make his fortune by inheriting it from his mentor.
‘I still insist you have it, at least everything I’m not leaving to Lady Mary. She’ll get the house and a tidy financial settlement. It would mean the world to me if you’d look after her when I’m gone. She may not be related to me by blood, but she did a great deal for my sister in her last years and she’s brought me immense comfort over these past three months. I want to leave her with a secure future so she never has to want or worry about anything.’
‘Of course I’ll make sure she and her investments are well protected.’ Silas watched the flames in the grate leap and fall as they consumed the log. He understood the importance of protecting those he cared about. The cheques he regularly sent home to England supported his mother and sisters so that the donations to the Fairclough Foundation could continue to help the women in need. He threw back the rest of the brandy, the sting to his throat making his eyes water. Yes, he took care of his family with money, but little else. What else could they expect of him? He’d never wanted to be part of the Foundation, and if he hadn’t come here to work with Richard there wouldn’t be money to send home. It was the same circular thinking that plagued him every time he thought about how far away he was from his loved ones. He refilled his empty glass. Tonight, he had no patience for those old regrets.