by Rose Pearson
“However,” she continued, her fingers tightening together as she held her hands in her lap. “I have only just begun an endeavour that I could use your help with. It may take some time to complete but that would give us the time required to reacquaint ourselves with one another. It would also give me the opportunity to study my own heart and to consider the feelings that dwell within it.”
It did not surprise her that Lord Havisham began to nod fervently, clearly more than willing to do whatever it was she asked. That in itself brought a small smile to her face.
“What say you, Lord Havisham?” she asked gently. “Are you willing to aid me in this?”
“Of course I am!” he exclaimed, sitting forward in his seat with such earnestness on his face that she was forced to hide her smile. “I can only thank you for such a consideration, Lady Smithton, for I well understand that what I did was almost entirely unforgivable. You cannot know the joy that this has brought me.” He took a breath, closing his eyes so as to calm himself somewhat. “I would welcome the chance to prove that my heart is still true to you, Lady Smithton. To show you that I have thought of no other and that my only desire is to have you as my own.”
Emily nodded slowly, her heart picking up its pace just a little as her eyes caught his, seeing how they almost glowed with an earnest affection.
“Very well, Lord Havisham,” she said, softly. “I thank you for your willingness in this. I suppose then, that it is time to introduce you to the others.” Rising from her chair, she waited for him to do the same, finding the confused expression on his face to be a little humorous.
“The others?” he asked, slowly getting to his feet. “I did not understand that this endeavour of yours involved any other persons.”
Walking to the door, she walked through and back towards the drawing room, with Lord Havisham following closely behind. Coming to a stop just at the door, she placed one hand on the door handle and looked up into his face. He was looking down at her with confusion written into every line of his expression, his brows knotting as she smiled at him.
“Lord Havisham,” she said, in a rather grand voice. “Permit me to introduce you to ‘The Spinsters Guild’.”
Thanks for reading this story! This is just the beginning of a fun journey with the four slightly imperfect ladies who are looking for husbands! Emily has to figure out how to help them and Lord Havisham is going to have to really work to help her!
The Disgraced Bride
Miss Emma Bavidge can barely make her way through society without someone whispering about her.
Her father’s disgrace has ruined her reputation and left her struggling in society. Her one hope is Lady Emily Smithton, who leads ‘The Spinsters Guild’ and has promised to help. When questioned, however, Emma cannot pretend that she is immune to the charms of one gentleman in particular – Viscount Morton.
Viscount Nathaniel Morton cannot help but feel sorry for Miss Bavidge. Knowing her father as well as he does, he is well aware that her reputation bears no stain other than that of her father’s disgrace. He wishes to help her in some way, wanting to encourage her back into society’s good graces, but does not quite know how to go about it.
One thing is for certain – he cannot allow her to know the truth about the part he played in bringing about her father’s fall from grace, not even if he begins to find his heart yearning for no one but her!
Can Emma and Nathaniel find love and happiness despite the secrets between them?
Prologue
“I hardly think that this is the right time to go about such an endeavor.”
Miss Emma Bavidge looked down at her hands, her heart twisting in her chest.
“I must have her married off,” she heard her father, Viscount Hawkridge, state. “She must be able to have some sort of future.”
“And just who would look at her?” came the sharp, shrill voice of her spinster aunt, Lady Mitchell. “There is very little chance that even a single gentleman will so much as glance at her. No, you are asking me too much, brother.”
A long silence followed. Emma twisted her fingers together, breathing slowly and carefully as she fought to keep her composure. She knew full well that to go to society now would be rather difficult after what had occurred only last year, but if she did not go now, then her chances of remaining a spinster increased dramatically. She did not have the beauty of face that captured every gentleman’s attention and had her declared a ‘diamond of the first water.’ Nor did she have a large dowry with which to entice a gentleman, for her father had made certain of that. There was, as her aunt had suggested, very little chance that Emma would be able to find a suitor, but surely, she had to be given the opportunity to try? It had to be better than remaining at home, whiling away the days of summer and feeling as though her life were slipping away from her, fearing that she would be as she was now for the rest of her days.
Closing her eyes, Emma let out her breath slowly, her hands suddenly tightening into fists as a spike of anger slammed painfully into her heart. None of this was her doing. This was all entirely her father’s mistake, and now she had to bear the consequences of it. It felt most unfair, for why should the shame of her father’s behavior cling to her? She had done nothing wrong, for she had always made certain to keep herself within the realms of propriety, but regardless of that, it seemed that she too was to be washed with the dirt that now clung to her father.
“I should have found a way to keep her in London last season.”
Her father’s voice was low and muffled, and Emma had to strain to hear, knowing that she ought not to be eavesdropping outside her father’s study but finding it impossible to step away. She had to know what was being said.
“You did what you could,” replied Lady Mitchell in a tired fashion. “You had responsibilities here.”
“No,” Lord Hawkridge replied angrily, a sudden thump making Emma’s heart jump in her chest. Had her father slammed a hand onto the desk in frustration?
“No,” Lord Hawkridge said again. “I have been selfish. I did not take Emma to town when she was first of age. Instead, I told myself that I could not afford it, what with the state of my home and estate. That was naught more than a lie, sister.” His voice dropped low, clearly upset. “I wanted to keep as much of my wealth for my own purposes; that is the truth of it. I did not want to spend money on my daughter, for I knew she would need new gowns and the like in order to make her debut in London. And then, last year, when I took her with me to make her debut, I chose instead to bring such shame upon the family name that I had no other recourse but to remove both myself and her from London before only a fortnight had passed. What a cruel, selfish father I have been!”
Emma pressed one hand to her mouth, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. Her father had never once admitted to any such thing to her, and she was quite certain that, had she been in the room, he would not have said anything of the sort. However, to hear it from him, to know that he was aware of his wrongdoing and just how it now affected him, brought her heart a good deal of sorrow. It was too late for apologies. Time had marched past them both, leaving her older and all the more afraid that she would become a spinster, forced to remain with her father until his last days and then to seek out charity from amongst her relatives. What had been done by Lord Hawkridge had left a heavy load upon her back, and words of regret did not take any of her burden away.
“Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself?”
The brash words of her aunt pulled Emma from her sorrow, making her blink rapidly until all her tears had disappeared.
“You have behaved foolishly and left the burden of responsibility upon your daughter,” Emma’s aunt continued. “And now you seek out my help to try to ensure that your daughter finds a suitor after all—which is an unenviable task, I assure you!” She tutted, clearly still displeased with being asked to do so. “Quite how I am meant to hold my head up in society when you are known to be my brother is going to be quite another matter, h
owever.”
“Then you will come to our aid?” Lord Hawkridge asked, sounding hopeful. “You will do as I have asked of you?”
Emma held her breath, waiting for her aunt’s response. She bit her lip, closing her eyes tightly as the seconds dragged out before her. Her aunt was obviously still considering what would be best to do—not best for Emma but rather for herself. It would be difficult for Lady Mitchell to appear in London society also, for people would whisper about her and her association with Lord Hawkridge.
“Oh, very well,” Lady Mitchell sighed, sounding exasperated. “I shall take Emma to town with me and ensure she is chaperoned and the like.”
The sound of a scraping chair told Emma that her father had gotten to his feet, perhaps grasping her aunt’s hands to thank her.
“You are truly one of the kindest ladies I know,” Lord Hawkridge said, his voice filled with relief. “Thank you, dear sister. I know that Emma will appreciate your willingness even more than I.”
Emma did not hear her aunt’s response. She was battling tears, tears of relief that threatened to run down her cheeks and sobs that stuck in her throat. Turning away from the door of her father’s study, she moved quickly, but as quietly as she could, hurrying away to her rooms where she might find solitude.
She was to go to London after all. She was to have the chance to find a suitor, to make a match that would bring her happiness and a future worthy of a gentleman’s daughter. Yes, it would be difficult, and yes, she would have to deal with many people questioning whether or not she ought to even be stepping into society again, but Emma was determined to make the most of her time in London. She would hold her head high, she told herself, pushing open the door of her bedchamber. She would ignore the whispers, ignore the dark looks and the rumors that would swirl about her, safe in the knowledge that she had done nothing wrong. Surely, somewhere, there had to be even one gentleman who would not count her father’s sins against her? One gentleman who would look at her with an unhindered gaze, who would consider her for who she was and not what her father had done. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Emma closed her eyes and pressed her hands together as though in prayer.
“Let me be able to find such a gentleman,” she whispered aloud, her eyes brimming with tears all over again. “I do not ask for love nor affection, but only for a kindness of heart and a joy of spirit that will be contented with someone such as me.”
Surely, that was not too much to ask.
Chapter One
“I fear my aunt has quite given up on me.”
Miss Sarah Crosby linked arms with Emma and sighed heavily. “I am sorry for that, Emma.”
Emma tried to shrug off such a thing with an easy smile and a lift of her shoulders, but neither came without difficulty. The truth was, the way that her aunt had treated her this last fortnight had made things all the more difficult for Emma, instead of aiding her in what was already a hard situation.
“She wished to remove herself from the…” Miss Crosby frowned, trying to find the words. “The rumors that seem to cling to you,” she finished, still frowning. “Is that not so?”
Knowing that it was simply the way of Miss Crosby to be blunt in her speech and manner, Emma gave her a slightly rueful nod. “My aunt agreed to help me, agreed to ensure that I managed to traverse society without too much difficulty, but I believe the idea seemed easier than actually being amongst the beau monde and seeing how they treat me.” She shook her head, a lump beginning to form in her throat. “When I arrived back in London, whispers began from the very moment I set foot within society.” Swallowing hard, she tried to smile, but the corner of her lips did not even quirk. “The ton is a cruel creature, Sarah.”
Her friend sighed heavily and nodded. “Indeed it is,” she agreed, softly. “I am sorry to hear that you have had such trouble.”
“I have, at least, received invitations to various events,” Emma replied, trying to find hope and encouragement in even the smallest of things. “However, sometimes I fear that such invitations are given in the knowledge that my presence will only add to the chatter surrounding someone’s soiree or ball.” Sighing, she adjusted her bonnet carefully, even though it already sat perfectly, wanting to cover up her struggle to contain her emotions. “And the same can be said for the gentlemen that seek to dance with me.” Closing her eyes for a moment, Emma took in a gulp of air, steadying her composure. “I was foolish enough to believe that such gentlemen found me engaging enough to seek me out at a ball or the like. Instead, I have come to learn that they want nothing more than the notoriety that comes with dancing with someone such as myself, whose reputation is darkened due to the behavior of my father last season.” The unfairness of it all bit at her hard, but with an effort, Emma pushed such feelings aside. There was no use in lingering on them, for it would do her no good whatsoever.
“There is not even one gentleman who has shown you any genuine interest?” Miss Crosby asked, looking across at Emma as they walked together. “None?”
Emma hesitated before she shook her head. There was one gentleman she had caught watching her on more than one occasion these last two weeks, but he had never approached her, had never sought her out to dance. The way his eyes had lingered on hers as she had looked steadily back at him still took her by surprise whenever she thought of it, for even though he had not introduced himself, there was something about his gaze that would not leave her. Oft times she caught herself thinking of him, not certain what it was about his manner that intrigued her so. Most likely, he was nothing more than any other gentleman had been—interested in her for the sole reason of adding to the whispers and rumors that swirled around her.
Miss Crosby sighed again, bringing Emma out of her confused thoughts. “The ton are not kind,” she muttered, reminding Emma that she was not the only one with difficulties when it came to society as a whole. “What can be done about it?”
Emma bit her lip, not quite certain what she could do. To say she could do nothing would be to make herself quite helpless, to make herself entirely at the ton’s mercy, and she did not want to allow that. But what could she do? She could continue as she was, praying that someone would consider her despite the fact that her reputation was so blackened, or she could attempt to seek out more help from somewhere else. Her aunt clearly was rather displeased that she had agreed to help Emma back into society, perhaps having not expected to find so much difficulty when it came to her niece, and so often kept well away from Emma even when they attended the same event together. She was distancing herself, clearly trying to play the part of a concerned yet unhappy aunt who was doing what she could for her unfortunate niece whilst remaining aloof and cold towards her. It was a strange role to play, but her aunt was doing it very well indeed, which left Emma alone to try to navigate through the icy waters of London high society.
“If only there were someone who had managed to do what I now consider to be almost impossible,” Miss Crosby murmured, speaking aloud but as though she spoke to herself. “If only we had an acquaintance to whom we might turn to for advice and aid.”
Emma’s brow furrowed, her mind suddenly filled with what Miss Crosby had said. “We have no such acquaintance,” she said, slowly, “but what if we could make one?”
Miss Crosby looked at her in surprise, their steps slow as they meandered through the park. “What do you mean, Emma?”
Biting her lip, Emma hesitated and then sat down on a bench, gesturing for her friend to do the same. “Have you heard of Lady Smithton?”
Miss Crosby’s eyes flared in surprise. “Lady Smithton? Yes, I believe so. She has only just returned to town after some time away.”
“Time in mourning, yes,” Emma said, slowly, recalling the first time she had heard about Lady Smithton, although, as yet, she had not been introduced to the lady and did not even know what she looked like. “Her husband died, and she has returned to London, even though there have been whispers that she was involved in his death in some such way.”
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A line formed between Miss Crosby’s brows as she frowned. “I have heard the rumors, of course, but gave them no attention,” she replied, carefully. “Lady Smithton seems to navigate through the ton without any difficulties whatsoever. She brushes aside the gossip and holds her head high.”
“You have seen her?” Emma asked, eagerly. “What does she do that gains the ton’s respect, even though she has so many gossip mongers eager to tear her to pieces?”
Miss Crosby considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “I cannot say precisely, for I have only watched her from afar. It is as though she does not care what ton might say about her; she gives it not even a moment of consideration. In proving this in her demeanor, she seems to float above such things in some way.” She waved a hand, evidently frustrated. “I am not explaining it very well, I know, but she seems untroubled by the rumors, and therefore, there are those who greatly admire her.”
This was precisely what Emma wanted to hear. “Then mayhap she would be inclined to help us, should we ask her.”
Miss Crosby’s frown drew down still further. “But we are not acquainted with her,” she said, stating the obvious difficulty with Emma’s suggestion. “Nor do we know anyone able to introduce her to us.”
“Then we speak to her without introduction,” Emma replied firmly, seeing that this was the only way forward. “It is not the correct way, I grant you, but if we do nothing, then all that will remain is a difficult few months of the continuing season and a creeping despondency that we will be left without any hope whatsoever.” She lifted one brow and held her friend’s gaze. “I do not wish for that to occur, Sarah.”
Miss Crosby considered this for some moments, her eyes searching Emma’s face as she thought.
“I will struggle to do most anything, given that I must be with my cousin most of the time,” she said slowly, her brows still knotted. “I am not certain that Lady Smithton will be able to help me in any way, even if I was to ask her.”