A Season For Romance
A "Tales From Seldon Park" Christmas Novella
By Bethany M. Sefchick
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017
Bethany M. Sefchick
All rights reserved
Table Of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Coming Soon
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For all of those in love this holiday season…
Chapter One
Mid-December 1820
Suffolk
Allowing the curtain to fall closed, Lady Dinah Crestfield huddled deeper into the corner of the Duke of Ryfell’s ancient, rickety traveling coach. Outside, the wind roared fiercely and whipped the snow into thick, white clouds around the vehicle, pushing it violently from side to side. Her single, previously tepid brick had gone cold hours ago and night was nearly upon them again. Dinah was cold and hungry and praying that the coach would stop soon for the evening, though she knew such a hope was likely in vain. The duke had sent the oldest possible coach he owned – and the one with the worst possible springs – to fetch her from her home in Bedfordshire. While the coach stopped long enough each day for the driver to procure a fresh team and for her to snatch something quick to eat, the duke had hardly provided anything close to luxury or comfort for her travels across the wilds of England in winter.
Then again, Dinah was to be a paid employee of the duke. More if he was happy with her. Happy with her. If only she could be certain what that odd phrase meant. Closing her eyes, she could still see the ad in the local paper that her caught her attention a month ago.
Duke seeks governess for his six children. Must be intelligent, pretty, and willing to live on the coast of Norfolk year ‘round.
Must be of excellent, irreproachable character.
Must come alone. A maid will be provided, if necessary.
Possible upgrade in position if duke is pleased with results.
Will cover all traveling expenses.
Possible upgrade in position if pleased.
Dinah hadn’t known what that odd phrase meant when she took the bold step of writing directly to the duke’s solicitor in London and inquiring about the advertised job. She still didn’t know. Then again, she hadn’t really cared back then either. She was in desperate straights and could not exactly afford to be overly choosy.
Growing up, Dinah had known her father gambled. A lot. She hadn’t thought his vices mattered overmuch, however. She had believed that her father was careful with his coin and never took foolish risks he could not afford. After all, he was a prosperous viscount in the little village of Westbrook-on-Green. His estate boasted more than a handful of tenants, a mill, and a well-appointed home in the form of Canton Hall. While he had no son and his wife - Dinah’s mother - had passed away years ago while attempting to birth an heir, he still had a daughter he doted upon with pleasure.
Dinah was, as far as she knew, the apple of her father’s eye, and at least part of the reason why he made certain Canton Hall remained prosperous. After all, she was a rather remarkable daughter, or so she had always believed.
That was what she had always been told, anyway.
To be fair, Dinah knew she was accounted to be extraordinarily lovely, a classic English beauty with thick, blonde curling hair and striking, china blue eyes framed by enviably lush, dark lashes. Her figure was delightful – or so she had been told, as well – and her wit sparkling and merry. She was known far and wide as “The Beauty of Bedfordshire,” and everyone had assumed she would marry well about her station.
That had, unfortunately, included her father.
For as luminescent as Dinah was in smaller, country gatherings, she lacked the true sophistication found in London debutantes. Surprisingly Dinah’s single London Season had been fairly unremarkable with only a scant few mentions in the gossip rags, and she also hadn’t managed to garner even a single marriage proposal. Much to her father’s chagrin as well. Especially since he had banked heavily on the fact that Dinah would marry wealthy, well, and quickly. By the time father and daughter returned home to Canton Hall for Christmastide after her failed Season, Dinah’s beloved father was massively in debt. A wet, rainy fall had not helped matters, either. Nor had a fire that had ripped through three tenant cottages over the summer.
By the time spring came around again, her father had landed in debtor’s prison. All of Dinah’s pretty gowns and trinkets were gone, snatched away by his numerous creditors. In fact, every single item in the Hall that wasn’t entailed had been sold to pay off debts. That money still hadn’t been enough. So Dinah had swallowed some of her pride and gone to work as a seamstress for a time, expecting that she might still marry well. After all, she still had a roof over her head in the form of Canton Hall, and the foolish notion in her heart that somehow, someway, her beloved papa would make things right in the end.
Then summer had come, and Papa had fallen ill in prison, his debts still unpaid. Fall arrived, cold and swift, and his health declined further. Just before Christmastide the previous year, Dinah’s father had passed away, leaving lingering debts and no heir, save for a distant cousin.
An extremely wealthy distant cousin named Edward Marshton who had been only too happy to allow Dinah to remain at Canton Hall – not to mention pay off the remaining debts - as long as Dinah agreed to marry him after her period of mourning ended. Dinah, of course, hadn’t thought the man serious. She had laughed at him – actually laughed! She cringed now when she remembered her past actions, how callously she had behaved towards Edward the first time they had met. He had deserved better from her. He was hardly the handsome sort, which was certainly not his fault. And while obviously not hideous, he was just a bit on the plain side. Not at all the sort of man Dinah had pictured herself wedded to back in those days.
When the following summer arrived, Edward had ventured to Westbrook-on-Green to take measure of his prospective bride. Shortly thereafter, Edward had discovered Dinah kissing the son of a local baron beneath a tree. Edward had been enraged and, looking back, Dinah understood rightly so. She had promised herself to Edward, even though she never had any real intention of keeping that promise. She had thought herself better than him, even though she no longer was. Perhaps she had never been.
Dinah had assumed –again incorrectly – that once Edward laid eyes upon her, he would understand that she was far too pretty and too lively to be wed to a man like him. Whether he was newly minted Viscount Gilrod and had paid off her family’s debts or not.
He hadn’t understood. In fact, Edward had tossed the baron’s son off of what was now his land arse first and demanded that Dinah choose. The handsome baron’s son or Edward himself. Dinah had chosen the handsome baron’s son, which had been an extremely poor decision on her part. Like father, like daughter, she supposed. The wretched youth had no intention of marrying her. He never had. Now, neither did Edward.
Still, Edward must have felt something for Dinah, even if it was only pity, for he had
been kind enough to grant her enough time to make other arrangements. He had purchased subscriptions to the London papers in her name and was willing to provide her with a reference when she found employment. However, he had been very clear that since she had chosen another over him, there would be no forgiveness for that betrayal from his quarter. Dinah had made her choice, and it was not him. Now she had to live with the consequences.
Edward had informed Dinah that he hadn’t expected her to love him. He had, however, hoped that she might at least find him tolerable enough to lie with him and beget an heir or two. After that? She could have lived her life as she pleased. She could have even taken a lover if she had so desired, so long as she was discreet. After Edward had his heir, of course. He simply hadn’t made his offer to Dinah at the very beginning for he had been hoping to judge her character. Not to put too fine of a point on things, he said, but he had his doubts about her suitability as a wife as well.
For the first time ever, the realization had dawned on Dinah that not everyone believed her to be perfection incarnate. That she, too, was being judged, just as she judged others. And London-born Edward had not been at all certain he wanted a slightly provincial country miss as his bride, no matter how beautiful she was.
She had been an idiot, Dinah now realized. Even after all she had been through – including her brief time as a seamstress – she still viewed herself as the Beauty of Bedfordshire and beyond reproach. The prettiest girl in all the land, comparable to none. Better than everyone she met, no matter their station in life.
Dinah had been a fool. Worse, she had been an arrogant fool.
That was how she had come to stumble upon the duke’s ad in the Town Tattler, one of the more reputable London gossip sheets – and one that had never printed a single word about her in the past. Dinah had written immediately to the duke’s solicitor with her qualifications – such as they were. Then she had waited.
Dinah had been shocked when the solicitor replied just as quickly, saying that he thought she would suit the duke’s needs rather well. The man was willing to make the arrangements for her travel immediately, which suited Edward rather well, too. In the months between, he had taken a strong liking to Miss Lavina Appleton, the daughter of that same baron whose son had made all of those delightful – and yet still very empty in the end – promises to Dinah. Edward also needed Dinah out of his house with all due haste if he was going to wed Miss Appleton as soon as possible. And given that the baron’s daughter might already be increasing with Edward’s first child, immediately would be preferable.
For Dinah, the offer of employment from the duke seemed like the best possible solution for everyone – but especially her. Well, at the time it had seemed so anyway. Why, the man’s solicitor had even hinted that Dinah might become the nobleman’s bride someday, at least if the duke was pleased with her work with his children! She! Dinah Crestfield! A duchess! And there was still just enough of her old pride left within her that she very much wished to be a duchess, even one exiled to the drafty, cold far corner of England. Well, wished it more than becoming a seamstress again, at any rate.
Not to mention that at two and twenty, Dinah’s best days were likely behind her.
Sooner rather than later, her beauty would begin to fade and other, far more biddable young ladies would fill the Marriage Mart. Debutantes who had far more sophistication and man-hunting skills than Dinah ever would, as well.
Becoming the duchess to a doddering old duke in Norfolk really didn’t sound that bad in comparison.
After this wretched coach trip, however, Dinah was beginning to wonder if she would ever learn. For after three slow, torturous days on the road, she had come to the conclusion that the duke’s offer of employment was not all his solicitor had made it out to be.
Several days prior, the coach that had pulled up to the massive stone front of Canton Hall had been faded and warped, the gold leaf on the crest long gone and a rather visible patch on the door. The conveyance had creaked and groaned with each roll of its many-times-repaired wheels and the horses looked as if they were not even fit for farm work. They were old animals and had clearly seen better days, even though their eyes were still bright.
There was also no maid waiting in the carriage, even though Dinah had made it a point to inform the solicitor that she would require one, as she had no lady’s maid of her own. That meant that she would be traveling over the wilds of England without a chaperone. Something that would ruin her reputation just as surely as being found in a man’s bed if anyone discovered the truth.
Even Edward had hesitated when he had seen the coachman hop down and open the door quickly as he impatiently gestured for Dinah to climb in at the same time, saying that perhaps he had been too hasty. After all, Canton Hall possessed a dowager house, though the cottage hadn’t been occupied in some time. And that perhaps Dinah might like to stay there while they reconsidered her options for her future.
In that moment, for the first time, Dinah had come to the conclusion – albeit far too late – that Edward Marshton was a far better man than she had ever deserved. She had simply been too stupid to realize it.
It was also not fair to force Edward to continue to support her. He would take a wife just after Twelfth Night and, while his own personal fortune had helped to put the viscountcy to rights, his bank accounts were only just now recovering from the expenditure. Dinah would be an unnecessary burden on Edward and his bride-to-be, and they both knew it. That he was still willing to assist her showed just how much of a true gentleman he was.
And, in the short time since her momentous revelation, Dinah had somehow changed as well. Perhaps it was the idea of leaving the only home she had ever known or perhaps it was the knowledge that she could have enjoyed a much better life if only she would not have been so selfish and self-centered. Whatever the reason, Dinah had tearfully declined Edward’s offer. Instead, she had given him a warm hug and, with more tears in her eyes, also given him what had likely been her first sincere apology in all of her life. For she truly was sorry for the pain and aggravation she had caused this kind and generous man.
Dinah had also wished Edward and Lavinia happy on their wedding day and gave him a light kiss upon his cheek as she pulled away.
If you want to come home, let me know and I shall arrange it post haste. Canton Hall will forever be your home, you know. Say the words, Dinah, and it shall be done.
Edward had whispered those words to her as she had picked up her traveling valise as two of Edward’s footmen lashed her trunks to the back of the carriage. Dinah had wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms and beg forgiveness. She hadn’t. Doing so wouldn’t have been fair to anyone, not even herself. And especially not to Lavinia.
Instead she had kissed him again and promised that if her position with the duke became too miserable to endure that she would write to him immediately. Edward, in turn, had promised that he would send someone to fetch her the moment her letter arrived. No questions asked and that the dower house would be ready for her when she returned. After that? They would work something out, for they were family.
Dinah knew that Edward meant every word, which was why with one last, tearful glance behind her, she had marched down the steps of Canton Hall and closed the coach door behind her just as the vehicle began to roll away from the only life she had ever known.
That had been three days ago and now, Dinah was once more wondering why she could not see with her own eyes what others so easily could. The trip had been miserable, and she should not have come. She wasn’t even certain there was a position to be had with the duke any longer. If he even existed, though she supposed he did – somewhere. In truth, she didn’t know what fate awaited her in Norfolk or ahead on this seemingly endless road, for that matter. There was no provision for her comfort or thought of stopping for the night. The traveling party, such as it was, only stopped by the side of the road when the coach driver needed a rest – which wasn’t often. Dinah had even begu
n to wonder if he was human.
They had changed teams at a coaching inn, The Ruby Rose, about five miles down the road from Canton Hall. That had given Dinah enough time to dash off a note to Edward, begging him to come and rescue the carriage horses that had been left behind. They were thin, bony things, more likely to die as not, and yet, she had the power – little though it was – to save them. To see to it that their final days were spent in the comfort of the Hall’s warm, dry stables and soft, rich pastures.
The innkeeper, a friendly and gregarious man named Mr. Peters, knew Edward well and had promised that Dinah’s message would be delivered with all possible haste. Mr. Peters had also promised that he would keep the horses safe until someone from Canton Hall arrived to fetch them.
That brief interaction with the innkeeper was the last time Dinah had felt truly human. Or as if there was anyone else left alive in the world save for her and her inhuman coach driver. At present, she felt like nothing more than cargo bouncing down a rutted, snow-covered road, the coach sliding about dangerously as darkness fell and the winds continued to pick up rather wickedly.
Dinah also wondered again if the duke’s offer was truly as perfect for her as it had sounded in the advertisement. After all, this coach was hardly the “comfortable conveyance” that had been promised by the duke’s solicitor. Nor had she enjoyed “soft, warm accommodations every evening,” or the “softest of traveling blankets and the warmest of bricks” to keep her cozy, either.
She wasn’t even sure any longer if there was a duke.
Dinah was hungry, tired, and her body ached from the cold and being jostled about inside the coach. She had piled on as many clothes as she possibly could from her valise, for she wasn’t certain her trunks were even attached to the carriage any longer. She felt half frozen and was deeply regretting her decision to leave the comfort and safety of Canton Hall to venture out into the harsh English countryside with only a coach driver as an escort. And a rather questionable looking coach driver at that.
A Season For Romance (The Seldon Park Christmas Novella Book 5) Page 1