The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

Caught with a sudden fear, Elsbeth looked up at him in fright. “Do you mean to….?”

  He leaned forward, his eyes warm in the firelight. “Do not concern yourself in that regard, my dear lady. I have no thought of returning you there. In fact, I was battling between throwing it in the fire and ignoring it altogether or allowing it to be your decision.” He gave her a small smile, which calmed her frantic nerves. “It appears that you are to make the choice yourself.”

  The thought of returning to the Smithfield House for Girls made her almost queasy, her stomach tightening as she clung to the arm of the chair with one hand as though to steady herself.

  “My offer to have you as governess to Miss Amy still stands, Miss Blakely,” Lord Radford murmured. “You have no requirement to do as they ask since you are no longer their charge. The moment you left the premises, you became your own person.”

  It did not feel like that, however, and Elsbeth was forced to battle her doubts, suddenly worried that there was something wrong with Mrs. Banks or the like.

  “I should also tell you that one of my friends, Lord Watson, had heard some news about your House for Girls.”

  She looked up at him, seeing his concern.

  “There is more?”

  Shrugging, he let his eyes drift to the letter. “Perhaps I should have told you this first. My friend, Lord Watson, told me that he heard a Duke had visited Smithfield House. I’m afraid he could not quite remember the name – one of the consequences of too much brandy, I’m afraid – but he did remember that there had been a constable called to the House.”

  Gripped by terror, she leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Do tell me that nothing is wrong with Mrs. Banks?”

  He frowned, reaching forward to take her hand in his warm one. “No, my dear Miss Blakely, there is nothing about her as far as I know.”

  She let out a long, shaky breath, feeling tears prick at the corner of her eyes. For a moment, she had been convinced that something dreadful had happened to Mrs. Banks, her one steadfast friend, and given Miss Skelton’s threats as regarded her, it was nothing but sheer relief to know that she was not involved in anything.

  “No, Miss Blakely, you need not worry about her,” Lord Radford continued, gently. “My friend, Lord Watson, said that a constable had been called due to all the screaming that was coming from the place. There was no one hurt, you understand, but it was, in fact, a shouting match between this Duke and Miss Skelton.”

  “An argument?” Elsbeth repeated, blinking in confusion. “They were shouting so loudly that someone thought there was a beating or the like?”

  “Something like that, yes,” Lord Radford replied, with a rueful smile. “The constable did not say what the argument was about, but truth be told, Miss Blakely, I am concerned that this letter arriving so soon after this incident means that the two are tied together.”

  A stone dropped into her belly. She had not thought to make the connection, having been overwhelmed with thoughts of the letter, but Lord Radford was quite right to suggest such a thing.

  “Do you wish to return to Smithfield House, Miss Blakely?” Lord Radford asked, gently. “I will do whatever it is you require of me, for this must be your choice.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat, terror filling her. She did not know what this letter meant, for it gave no indication as to why she was required back there, but she knew she could not return. As much as she loved Mrs. Banks and missed her terribly, there was nothing that could induce her to return to Miss Skelton.

  “No, Lord Radford, I do not wish to return,” she replied firmly, looking at him. “In fact, I would be glad if you would throw this letter into the flames and let it burn. Let it be as though it was never delivered, as though we have never read the words contained within. I cannot imagine going back there again.” She set her shoulders, feeling a great deal more at rest now that she had made her decision. “I am, as you say, a free person and can choose not to go when I am summoned,” she finished, suddenly aware that their hands were still joined. “Thank you for reminding me of that, Lord Radford.”

  Letting go of his hand, she handed him back the letter and, as he took it, she felt herself caught by the look in his eyes. He was simply watching her, taking her in, but there was such a tenderness about his expression that she found she could not look away. She did not know what to make of it, nor of the way her heart began to quicken as though delighted with his attentions.

  “A very good choice, Miss Blakely,” Lord Radford murmured, crumpling the letter up into his hand before throwing it into the flames. “I know that I would have missed your presence should you have chosen to return.”

  There was nothing she could say in response, astonished at the openness of both his voice and his words. They had not spent a great deal of time together and yet, here he was telling her that he would find her absence to be something of a trial to him! Seeing him watch the letter being licked up by the flames, Elsbeth let her gaze travel over him for a few moments longer, seeing him in such a different light from before. It was a transformation that was taking place before her very eyes. Here she was beginning to feel safe and secure, allowing herself to trust him little by little.

  “I think perhaps we should travel to the Estate tomorrow, Miss Blakely,” he said, as he turned his head to smile at her. “What say you to that?”

  She could not help but smile back at him, her heart lifting with relief. “I think that a very good notion, Lord Radford,” she replied, gently. “The less time I have to spend in London, the better, I think.”

  He chuckled. “I could not agree more, Miss Blakely. Tomorrow it is.”

  Walking back to her room, her mind still full and her hands still empty of the book she had gone in search of, Elsbeth was forced to reflect on the man who was her employer. She had not expected such kindness from him, such understanding, but yet here he was, doing more for her than she had ever expected. Recalling how Lord Radford had been grasping, arrogant and entirely self-centered, Elsbeth found that she could not reconcile that with the man she knew now. It had not yet been a fortnight since she had reprimanded him so fiercely and yet she was convinced that the change in him was a genuine one.

  Opening her door and stepping into her room, Elsbeth let out a long breath of relief, a small smile touching her lips. She felt as though she had achieved something of great importance in asking Lord Radford to throw the letter onto the fire, seeing the words Miss Skelton had written being licked up by the flames. She would not be summoned as though she belonged to Miss Skelton, as though she were a servant who could be treated with such disdain.

  “I do not have to think of her again,” she murmured to herself, walking to the window and looking out at the quiet London streets, seeing the way the moonlight bounced off the cobbles. “Never again.”

  The happiness in her soul was suddenly pulled from her as a figure detached itself from the shadows that clung to the side of the street and ambled towards the house, a small lamp in one hand. Her breath caught, even though she had no reason to fear that this figure was in any way threatening. A feeling of unease began to settle over her as she continued to look out of the window, seeing the figure stop only a few feet away from the house. Not quite certain what to make of the shadowy figure who appeared to be watching the house, Elsbeth made to move away from the window, only for the figure to lift his lantern high into the air, as though to attempt to see what she was doing.

  Stumbling away from the window, Elsbeth pressed one hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding rapidly. This was no coincidence, she was sure of it. That man, whoever he was, had been watching the house – perhaps even watching her room to see where she went and what she was doing. With no drapes on her window, which was not a surprise given her position here, she had no way of hiding herself from him.

  “But why?” she breathed, her legs trembling and forcing her to sit down on her bed. “Why is someone watching me?”

  Putting her head in her hands, Elsbeth tried to
make sense of it all, but found herself pulled lower and lower into the mire of confusion. A Duke at Smithfield House for Girls, an argument between him and Miss Skelton, the letter demanding her return to the House and now a man watching Lord Radford’s home, watching her window?

  For a moment, Elsbeth fought the urge to get out of her chair and make her way straight to the House for Girls, the desperation to know what it was all about almost possessing her completely. She did not like being kept in the dark; she wanted to know why Miss Skelton had demanded her return, yet found herself recoiling from the very idea.

  “If I go back there, I might never come out again,” she said softly, her hands slowly loosening as she sat back up again. She could not return. She would do as she had said and go with Lord Radford to his estate to meet her new charge. That would satisfy her completely, even if she never learned why Miss Skelton had demanded her return. In a few years’ time, she would have her freedom and she could put all this behind her.

  Steeling her resolve, Elsbeth rose to her feet, found an old bedraggled blanket that lay in the corner by her bed and, her heart beating in her throat, threw it over the top of the old curtain rail that sat above the window. It would not give her much protection from the man’s view when the sun came up, but it would be better than nothing. Lifting a corner of the blanket, she looked out of the window once more, seeing the small flickering light that glowed in the middle of the street. He was still there. Still watching. Still as troubling as before.

  Swallowing hard, Elsbeth drew in a long breath and tried to calm her anxiety. The man could not get into Lord Radford’s home, and she would speak to him about it as soon as she could.

  Lying down on her bed, Elsbeth tried to close her eyes and drift off to sleep, tugging the blankets up to her chin. Drawing in a long breath, she let it out slowly, trying to force herself to relax. She was safe here, she told herself, safe in Lord Radford’s home and under his protection – although not in the way he had anticipated! She allowed herself a small smile as she thought of how carefully he had held her hand, how he had tried so hard to reassure her. He had been her anchor as she’d been tossed here and there, confused as to what Miss Skelton was doing. Despite her worries, she knew that he would protect her for as long as she was willing to remain in his employment. Even that, she knew, was her choice, for Lord Radford would not demand her presence as he had done before. Even though she was to be the governess for his ward, Elsbeth knew that she still had the freedom to either stay or to leave whenever she felt the time was right. In that way he had ensured her independence, and Elsbeth felt herself growing all the more grateful for that.

  10

  “Finally,” Andrew muttered to himself as he kicked his horse into a gallop up the driveway, his heart lifting to see his home once more. It was vastly unusual for him to feel such delight over his estate, when he was usually much more at home in London, but for whatever reason, knowing that Miss Blakely was to be in his home alongside him brought him such happiness that he could not feel even a modicum of discontent.

  Glancing behind him, he saw the carriage turn in, his lips lifting with the smallest of smiles as he thought of Miss Blakely kept within. She had turned out to be a rather interesting companion, for he had asked to sit with her in the carriage during their long journey to the Radford Estate when his horse had grown tired, and she had been more than obliging. Of course, he had ensured there was a maid in the carriage also – but she was asleep for most of their conversations and so Andrew had barely noticed her.

  However, one thing troubled him immensely. The fact that Miss Blakely had been certain there had been a man watching her window. It was not that he did not believe her, for he was quite sure that the lady would not lie about something so grave, but his heart grew worried over the reason for such a strange presence to be watching Miss Blakely. He had offered to send a man to London in order to find out and, after a moment of hesitation, she had agreed. Andrew was to write to his London steward almost the moment he returned to the estate, determined to put an end to the confusion and worry that wrapped itself around Miss Blakely’s shoulders. He himself could make no sense of it, his mind scrambling between ideas as he tried to find some simple conclusion to explain it away. However, the only conclusion he could come to was that the Duke, the House for Girls and Miss Blakely were all, somehow, tied together, but that he did not particularly want to find out why. As far as he was concerned, Miss Blakely now belonged here and that was all that mattered.

  Jumping down from his horse, Andrew tossed the reins to the waiting groom before letting out a long sigh of relief.

  He was home. Miss Blakely would be more than safe here.

  “Radford?”

  Turning around to the front door, Andrew bit back a gasp of surprise to see his mother, Lady Agatha Radford, standing with her hands on her hips. Her grey hair was piled neatly on her head, with one delicate peacock feather rising from the back of it, giving her an almost regal appearance. Her face was sheet white, making Andrew wonder whether or not she was altogether well.

  “Mother,” he managed to say, just as the carriage rolled up the driveway. “How good to see you. I didn’t expect…”

  “No, I know you did not, but I came regardless,” she replied, coming down the stairs towards him. “Your brother has told me everything.”

  He swallowed hard, the reason for her pallor suddenly obvious.

  “I – I do not know what to say, Andrew.”

  There was a softness in her voice, a look in her eyes that took Andrew by surprise. She had not spoken to him with such tenderness in a long time, leaving him with a surprising sense of warmth towards her.

  “Mother,” he said softly, coming closer to her. “It was a burden you did not have to carry. It was for the best. I am only sorry that you had to find out in such an abrupt fashion.”

  The lady swallowed hard, her eyes shining with sparkling tears and yet a small smile lingered on her lips. “I did not think there was that kind of good in you, Andrew. Forgive me for being so disillusioned with you.”

  He shook his head, just as the footman moved to open the carriage door. “Mother, you have every right to think of me as you do – or as you did. I only did this in order to spare the family shame, and not because I truly had any interest in helping my brother. However, I would like to tell you now that I have seen myself for who I truly am and that the reflection that peered back at me was one that I disliked intensely.” His throat suddenly ached and he shook his head, finding it difficult to speak for a moment, such was the intensity of his emotions. “Miss Blakely has been the one to show me my character for what it truly is, and I want you to greet her with all kindness and favor, Mother. She is to be Miss Amy’s governess.”

  His mother took his hand and held it tightly, not looking towards Miss Blakely as she descended from the carriage. “This governess has brought about such a change in you, Radford?” Her lips thinned and Andrew could see the worry in her eyes. “And now you have brought her here?”

  Andrew gave his mother a half smile, aware of what she thought of him. “Miss Blakely is nothing more than a well-respected young lady, Mother. In fact, you might be glad to know that it is because she would not do as I wished that I was first shown my true self. I realized that I was selfish and arrogant, expecting everyone to do as I wanted and as I asked without a thought for their own wellbeing. Her character is one of pure gold, Mother, and I am sure you will see that for yourself.”

  “But as a governess, it is not as though we will see much of her,” his mother protested, her standing as a Dowager Viscountess coming into play as she considered the gap between their stations. “Surely, Radford –”

  Patting her hand, Andrew cut her off. “Mother, this will be a strange situation for you, but I fully intend to have Miss Blakely dine with us, sit with us and be treated as a guest in our home, despite the fact that she will have duties and responsibilities as a hired member of my staff. There is something more to her,
something that I have not yet worked out nor understand, but believe me, there is a need for her to be treated with friendship and compassion.” He kept his voice low, aware that Miss Blakely was still standing by the carriage, waiting to be summoned. “She comes from the Smithfield House for Girls, Mother, but there is more to her story than meets the eye. A Duke may be searching for her, as may the lady who runs the House for Girls, but for whatever reason, we cannot be sure. Miss Blakely is aware of this and has chosen to come here, to turn her back on the House for Girls and this potential Duke. There was someone watching her, Mother, and for that reason, I cannot help but feel the need to protect her.”

  His mother looked back at him steadily, her green eyes as sharp as they had ever been – to the point that Andrew felt as though they were looking into his very soul.

  “I have never heard you speak of another living soul with such concern, Radford,” she said eventually, her words slow and careful. “Whether or not this is a genuine change, I cannot help but be grateful for it. I will be glad to meet Miss Blakely and, regardless of whether or not I feel comfortable with the situation you propose, I will go along with it. You are, after all, the lord of this estate now and as such, I will defer to your judgment.”

  Andrew swallowed the lump in his throat, aware that his mother had not shown him this kind of respect before. Not that he had ever deserved it before, of course, but this was more than he had ever expected, or had ever merited.

  “Thank you, Mother,” he murmured, before turning towards Miss Blakely. “Miss Blakely, might you come over here, please? I would like to introduce you to my mother, the Dowager Lady Radford.”

  Miss Blakely blushed as she came over to greet Lady Radford, her eyes on the ground as she curtsied beautifully, murmuring a word of greeting. Andrew could not help but feel a curl of tension in his belly as he looked at his mother, wondering what her reaction would be to Miss Blakely.

  “You have had a great influence on my son, I hear, Miss Blakely,” Lady Radford replied, as Miss Blakely stood up again. “And are to be governess to Miss Amy.”