Regency Brides Series: A Historical Regency Romance Box Set

by Laura Locke

  But she could not forget. And when she returned home, feeling broken, shocked and confused, she went straight upstairs to her bedchamber, closed the door and cried.

  Oh, lieutenant. I don't want to believe it. But what if it were to be true?

  After crying for a long while, Pauline sat and dried her face. She felt a new resolve flow in. She tucked her dark, curly hair behind her ear and gave herself a firm look.

  “Pauline, you need to find out the truth.”

  She refused to believe this without more evidence.

  “Pauline?” a voice called from outside the door.

  It was Cornelia. Pauline sighed. “Yes, cousin?”

  “Oh! You are here. I'm so pleased. I wanted to ask you about my new ballgown...I say short sleeves and an oval neck, but Mama has her heart set on draped sleeves, and I don't think it would suit. Come and advise me?”

  Pauline sighed and checked her face quickly once more to make sure there was no sign she had been crying. A pale-skinned oval face looked back, black eyes only damp, not swollen, the red bow of her mouth turned down.

  She made herself smile and then headed out to see her cousin.

  “Do you have the cloth in the drawing-room?”

  “Oh, yes!” Cornelia nodded. “I was just setting it out to discuss with Mrs. Pearson.”

  “Well, good that I arrived in time. Now, I think a cap sleeve would suit you. Perhaps with scalloping?”

  “Ooh!” Cornelia looked excited.

  As Pauline got absorbed in the details of the dress, she let herself forget about the awful thing Cornelius had said. There were so many possibilities there: Cornelius being misinformed, the story being untrue, there being some other reason why he might choose to lie. Only one thing was certain, and that was that there was something to find out.

  She would find out the truth.

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, Pauline found herself convinced to join her mother, aunt and cousin on a jaunt to Braxley. She had not wished to go – her mind was whirling with all that she had to think about. A day of peace and quiet to try and make sense of it all would have been welcome. But it seemed she was not to be granted such a thing.

  “Don't you think it'll be a fine day today?” Lady Braxton said bracingly from the seat beside Pauline as they sped toward the village. Pauline blinked, roused from being lost in thought.

  “Probably,” she murmured, gazing out mildly at the green fields, the sky above clear but for pale clouds dotting it here and there.

  “We should have brought parasols,” Allectia said briskly. Lady Braxton sighed.

  “If we need parasols, we shall have to resort to purchasing them. Besides, the wind's to high,” she added.

  “Why buy another when you could bring your own?” Allectia asked. Pauline privately agreed, but she saw her mother's eye-rolling expression and decided it would be better not to comment.

  “Oh, look! Horsemen!” Cornelia said, distracting all of them from their minor disagreement. Pauline smiled.

  “Oh, yes,” Lady Braxton murmured, looking out of the window, head on one side, as the troop of cavalry passed them with their uniforms impeccable in the bright sunlight.

  “They look quite dashing,” Allectia commented. Cornelia giggled.

  “A uniform does that for men,” Lady Braxton said ironically. Pauline grinned.

  I think Lieutenant Harrington would look just as good without his. She blushed when she caught herself thinking it. Her mind filled in a picture of him standing before her, his blue eyes shining. She quickly erased it as she felt heat flood her cheeks. Someone was bound to notice and ask her what she was thinking about. And then what could she say? She looked quickly away.

  “I wonder where they're going?” Cornelia questioned.

  “Probably the same place we are,” Pauline's mother said pragmatically. “Doing some shopping, taking tea...Braxley's a good place for that.”

  “It is,” Pauline agreed.

  Before long, they were rolling past the gates. The other good thing about Braxley was the proximity to the manor. Once the houses of their tenants and now a thriving settlement in itself, Braxley had more good shops, inns and coffee-houses than many small villages.

  “Here we are,” her mother murmured, echoing Pauline's thoughts as they halted outside the largest inn, the Snow Goose. The owner knew the earl and his wife and loaned them the space round the back of the inn for the coach whenever they were in town. The horses were watered in the inn stables and when they came back from their shopping trip they could move on at once.

  “Well, it is mild outside,” Lady Braxton commented as the coachman helped her down to the cobbled yard. “You might be right about those parasols, Allectia.”

  “I probably am,” Allectia said darkly. “If I forget something, you can bet it will be exactly what we need.”

  “Oh, come,” Lady Braxton murmured lightly. “Let's not be morose...it's a lovely day.”

  Pauline nodded as she followed her mother and aunt up the main street and to their first stop – the fabric shop.

  “Oh!” Cornelia exclaimed, staring in at the window. “Oh! What lovely things. We must have a look.” She bustled ahead and Pauline had to smile.

  While they were in the shop, Cornelia draping herself in muslin and linen while Pauline chose ribbons from the selection by the window, Pauline felt eyes on her. She tensed.

  She noticed a man in the street, watching her. She looked out.

  “Cornelius?” it was him, she noticed, feeling abruptly cornered. She looked away, but she knew he had seen her. She made her selection distractedly and went to pay for it.

  When the family exited the shop, he walked up.

  “My lady! Lady Braxton! Well met,” he said, raising his hat and bowing low. He had impeccable manners when he chose to, Pauline noted absently. She felt a pulse throb in her temple and realized she was tense.

  “Lord Stanmore,” Lady Braxton said warmly. “A pleasure.” She dropped a curtsey in response to his mannerly greeting. “I must introduce you to my relations. This is my cousin, Allectia, Lady Winthrop – she is more Pauline's aunt than cousin, you understand? And this is my second cousin, her daughter Lady Cornelia.”

  “Enchanted,” Cornelius bowed to Cornelia and her mother, raising Cornelia's hand to his lips. “I think we met?”

  “Yes,” Cornelia nodded firmly. “At a ball a few months previous.”

  “Yes, that's right,” he nodded thoughtfully. “Well, delighted to renew the acquaintance. Lady Winthrop. Lady Cornelia.” He bobbed his head in a sort of secondary bow, then turned to Pauline. “My lady.”

  He bowed extravagantly low and pressed her hand to his lips. Pauline had to fight the slightly queasy feeling it awoke in her. She was having trouble knowing what to think of Cornelius in any case...seeing him here and now, being charming to her family made it harder.

  I know what he is truly like. Charming, affable and mannerly is not what he is.

  “You made some purchases?” he asked solicitously, drawing her a little away from the group.

  “I did, Cornelius,” she said tightly.

  “Something pretty for a ballgown?” he inquired. Pauline felt slightly uncomfortable with that query, though she could not exactly have said why. On the surface he was just being mannerly.

  “No, just ribbon,” she replied.

  “Ah. A pity. Though it allows me to offer you a gift of your next purchase.”

  No. No gifts: I do not want anything from you.

  Pauline surprised herself by how radical her thoughts were on that subject. Gifts from Cornelius did not come without obligation, she was realizing. And the last man to whom she wished to be obliged was this man. “Thank you, my lord,” she said.

  He chuckled. “Well, now that we have met, would you not wish to join me at the Tysdale Inn? I had planned to stop there for their morning tea. If you'd wish..?” He turned to the rest of the group, repeating his offer

  “Oh!�
� Lady Braxton replied happily. “Oh, that is gallant. A spot of morning tea is just what I need. What say you?” she asked the group.

  “Yes!” Cornelia effused.

  “I think that sounds charming,” Allectia agreed.

  Lady Braxton looked pointedly at Pauline, as if to say: see, isn't that good? Even Allectia wants to join in.

  Pauline nodded. Cornelia looked happy, her mother had that intent look on her face that defied argument and even Allectia looked pleased. She could not refuse. “Yes, Cornelius.”

  “Well, then,” Cornelius said happily. “Let's go.”

  While they stood before the glass counter and chatted about the selection of pastries and flans, Pauline found her attention wandering to studying Cornelius. He stood a little away from the rest and he had a sort of smug smile as if he had just succeeded in outwitting a rival in business. She felt profoundly uncomfortable.

  “My lady?” he said, catching her gaze. She blushed and looked at her hands in their white gloves.

  “Nothing, Cornelius,” she murmured. “I was just lost in thought.”

  “Well, maybe I can advise. I think the peach tarts are the best, though I have yet to try the meringue.”

  “I wasn't thinking about tea,” Pauline said before she had thought about it. The assumption that she was preoccupied with shopping and treats, like a child, irked her.

  “Oh,” he raised a brow. “Well, a penny for your thoughts?”

  “I was wondering what you smiled about,” she risked asking.

  His smile broadened. “Oh!” he seemed uncommonly pleased that she had been thinking of him and for a moment Pauline felt almost sorry for him.

  If the whole population disappeared, Cornelius wouldn't know what to do with himself. I think he lives only for the response he can wring out of others.

  “You really want to know what I was smiling about?” he asked as the rest of their party headed past the counter and toward the table again.

  “I was curious,” Pauline admitted quietly.

  “Well, I was wondering if your handsome lieutenant has left town.”

  Pauline stared at him. “Why, Cornelius?” she asked. Her voice was a strained whisper and the depth of her feeling surprised her.

  “Well, I put a few choice words to the captain about it,” he commented honestly. Pauline stared.

  “But why, Cornelius?”

  He stared at her. “Why not?” he shrugged. “The man has a bad history. A deplorable past. I couldn't have him sneaking above his station, now could I?”

  His eyes on Pauline made her skin crawl. He was referring to the man's closeness to her, she knew that. She looked quickly away.

  “I think the captain will use his discretion,” she said tightly.

  “I sincerely hope so,” he said piously.

  Pauline turned quickly away. She did not want him to see the anger on her face. She went to the table and took a seat beside her aunt, opposite Cornelia. Tried to ignore him throughout the tea.

  It was difficult, and she caught his eye on her more than once. She looked abruptly away each time. The more she saw of him, the more she couldn't help thinking of what he had done to that poor unfortunate man.

  If it is a rumor only, he might have destroyed his career, and all for nothing!

  She could not believe someone could be so cruel.

  After tea, Cornelius bowed and left them.

  “Isn't he charming?” Lady Braxton opined. Pauline set her lips in a line. She didn't want to say anything, lest the depths of her anger show too visibly.

  “Well, where to next?” Allectia inquired.

  They visited the haberdasher, the milliner and the seamstress. Then they returned to the inn and the carriage. As they set off back to the house, Lady Braxton turned to Pauline.

  “I was surprised to see Lord Stanmore there. Such a charming man, and fond of you. He is a grand match, Pauline.”

  Pauline closed her eyes a moment, unsure what to say. “He is...surprising,” she said carefully.

  “Surprising. Yes,” Lady Braxton nodded. “Very direct, for an earl. You know, he came into his title so young. I wonder if it didn't develop that.”

  “True, cousin, very true,” Allectia murmured. “He has a more modern touch than most. A forthrightness.”

  “Yes, but very charming,” Lady Braxton insisted.

  “Oh, yes, very charming.”

  “Well, he ordered meringues instead of cream horns,” Cornelia objected. “So he isn't very good at listening.”

  Pauline felt her heart swell with affection for her practical cousin. “That's true,” she said, smiling warmly.

  “Yes, it is,” Cornelia nodded. “I thought it was very unsubtle of him.”

  Pauline smiled. That was what Cornelius was. Unsubtle in the extreme. But then, she considered, frowning, his schemes to undermine Lieutenant Harrington seemed subtle. Unless he was not undermining him after all?

  It was too horrible to contemplate, but Cornelius didn't seem to have it in him to lie. He was to boorish, too direct, as her mother so carefully put it.

  Pauline closed her eyes. She had no idea what to believe.

  “Well, that was a productive day,” Lady Braxton murmured contentedly as they rolled up the road towards the manor. “All this shopping done, and a chance meeting. How exciting.”

  “It was,” Allectia murmured. “Most enjoyable.”

  Pauline did not wish to upset the contented musing and so she sat, brow furrowed in thought, watching the landscape as it moved past the windows, feeling worry grip her heart.

  I need to find out more about Lieutenant Harrington. I will not rest until I know the truth of this story. And, until I know the truth, it seems I'm stuck with Cornelius Stanmore.

  Her mother thought him charming, after all.

  Chapter 7

  The whole of the next day Pauline was distracted.

  “...and then I thought we might take Lady Featherston's invitation for morning tea...Pauline, what say you?”

  “Oh!” Pauline jumped and set her teacup down. She regarded her mother across the breakfast dish, surprised she hadn't noticed she was talking. “Sorry? It sounds a capital idea.”

  “Capital! There you go. You will accompany us?” she asked.

  “I...uh, no, Mother. Thank you, but I thought to spend time practicing today. And painting. I haven't done that for so long.”

  “Accomplishments,” her mother said contentedly. “A wonderful thing to have, but you do spend a lot of time on them, dearest.”

  “I like playing the piano,” Pauline said softly. She had no idea where her mother was planning to go, but knew she wanted time alone to think. And it had been too long since she had a proper practice session.

  “Well, then,” Lady Braxton said firmly. “We're decided. We'll go to the village for that muslin you wanted, Allectia. Then we'll drop into Ainsley's for coffee and come home. Husband?”

  “Yes, sweet?” Lord Braxton said absently. He had been reading the paper, Pauline noticed, doing it surreptitiously so as not to appear rude. She hid a smile. She loved her dear, absent-minded, frail father dearly.

  “You will accompany us?”

  “What? Oh, no, dear. You go along with Allectia and Cornelia. I don't want to be a spoke in the wheel.”

  Lady Braxton rolled her eyes. “As if you would be, William.”

  He smiled fondly at his wife. “Oh, I would be. Enjoy it, all of you. Pauline?”

  “Yes?”

  “You're going with them, are you?”

  “No, father,” Pauline said, lifting the delicate china cup and sipping tea from it thoughtfully.

  “Oh, capital. I won't be here alone, then.”

  “No, Father.” Pauline smiled at him fondly. “I'll be in the drawing-room.”

  “I'll listen out for your playing. I do love Chopin, you know.”

  Pauline smiled. “I will have to find the new book you bought from France.”

  The breakfast ensue
d in companionable silence, until Lady Braxton announced she was off to get ready. Everyone drifted to their bedrooms and Pauline finished her tea in silence.

  She sighed with relief. It would be nice to have a day to gather her thoughts on this matter.

  She settled down in the parlor with her embroidery on her knee, but she could not settle to it. She went to the drawing room and tried to finish a painting, but she could not concentrate. At length, feeling restless, she decided to go for a walk.

  “I should have gone this morning,” she thought, looking out at the soft sunlight in the garden. “I wanted to, but Mama needed me to stay to keep an eye on things.”

  Tying her bonnet under her chin, Pauline headed to the stables.

  “Morning, ma'am,” the groom called, waving to her cheekily.

  “Hello, Bert. Saddle Pearl for me, please?”

  “Yes, milady.” He bowed. Pearl was a dapple mare, mostly glowing white with just a hint of dapple about her back and hind legs. Pauline, an estimable horsewoman, loved her.

  At least this should raise my spirits, she thought firmly as she swung her foot into the stirrups and stepped up.

  “Walk on,” she said to Pearl, and trotted briskly to the gates.

  Out on the fells, she let her horse go at a canter, her own mind drifting as the trees and grasslands flashed past, thinking of so many other things. Or just one.

  Valerian.

  She closed her eyes a moment, pain welling up in her heart. She did not believe that Valerian would do...what Cornelius had said he would do. It was a wicked thing to do and it was entirely unlike the man she knew and admired.

  He wouldn't do that! I know it.

  She sighed. She had only known him a week, she reminded herself firmly.

  But I am observant. I notice things. If Valerian were..as monstrous as that would make him be...I would have seen.

  Worse, perhaps, even than the pain of thinking badly of Valerian, was the sudden doubt she felt towards herself. Pauline always had good judgment. Everyone said so, from her sister to cousin Cornelia and their old governess when they were all children together.