The Smithfield Market Romances: A Sweet Regency Romance Boxset

by Rose Pearson

  “No, Miss, they are of my own devising. After your long journey, I thought you might be hungry. It is not my place to question her ladyship’s decisions or the request of the young sir, even if I disagree with them. It is not my habit to state it, yet I have done so. I do not think you should have this room, it is too rich for the likes of you. That is what I think but it does not mean that I am without a woman’s heart. I know you are poor and without means. I do not know if they feed you well at the vicarage but here you shall enjoy the hospitality of the house. There, now, you are on your own.”

  Sarah smiled at the prickly old woman, “Thank you, Mrs. Dunbar. The tea and sandwiches are as welcome to me as the fire. That was a very kind gesture on your part.”

  “Hmmp!” Mrs. Dunbar snorted as she turned to leave, “That was no kindness. It was the duty of a good housekeeper to see to all the guests of the house, even those like you.”

  Sarah watched as the servant followed Mrs. Dunbar, leaving Sarah all alone. With the door closing behind them, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs. Dunbar spoke without regard to Sarah’s feelings but then she saw to it that Sarah had tea waiting for her in her room, the same room she did not deserve. How strange, she thought, but oh how delicious. Eyeing the sandwiches, she quickly forgot about unpacking or dressing for dinner. She was starved! She could not remember when she had last been this hungry. Pouring the steaming hot tea into a bone china cup, she glanced around the room once more.

  This room was fit for a princess. Maybe Jane was in the tower room and playing the role of an archer? Sarah laughed to herself as she thought of the housekeeper’s words while she ate the first bite of sandwich. Savoring the flavors of the simple fare, she could almost forget that she did not belong in that part of the house, with the wealthier, titled guests. With every bite, she let her distress and vexation at Mrs. Dunbar’s words disappear as she enjoyed the slabs of bread, butter, and a salt-cured ham. Mrs. Dunbar was not wrong. Sarah did not rank high enough in society to deserve a room as opulent as the one she found herself in but that did not mean that she did not deserve to enjoy this privilege while it lasted.

  An hour later, Sarah waited in Katie’s bedroom as the younger woman finished dressing for the evening. Or as Jane succinctly said, her sister was being dressed by the maid.

  “Do go and find my ruby earrings, I want to wear them tonight,” Katie asked the maid as Jane sighed and slumped against the bedpost of the four-poster bed.

  “Katie, you look well enough, make haste with your jewelry. I am impatient to see who has arrived. Henry was due this evening. It’s been a long time since we saw him,” Jane complained.

  “I am nearly dressed. I want to look my best. It is the Christmas season. Where are your ruby earrings father gave us last year?” Katie asked as she faced her sister.

  “They are in my jewelry box, I suppose.”

  Sarah listened as her cousins argued about the exact location of a pair of expensive ruby earrings and why Jane was not wearing them. It was strange to think that Jane and Katie were the daughters of a vicar to hear them talk about silk, satin, and rubies. Yet, they were not the average daughters of a clergyman. Their father, Howard Brookes was the second son of a viscount. He inherited a comfortable annuity. His wife, Prudence, was the eldest daughter of a successful merchant. When she married, she supplied her husband with a sizeable dowry. That money allowed the Brookes to live well above the means of the average family of a village vicar. It was often said among the daughters that their father was a vicar entirely by choice as he did not have to hold a position to make his living, although that made him all the more wonderful to his parish.

  The family lived in the vicarage at Cheltham. They lived in grand style which at times seemed at odds with their modest two-story residence and the profession of Mr. Brookes. Sarah was certain that other vicars did not live as her uncle, but his modesty and his devotion to his duties seem to overshadow any criticism he may have received for his wife’s lavish mode of living which she bestowed particularly on Katie. As it was often observed among the villagers of Cheltham, the Brookes were a generous sort. In particular, Jane’s charity was much appreciated by the parishioners of their congregation.

  It was into this world that Sarah was thrust when her position as a governess ended. The family she served abruptly announced that they were moving to Ireland. She was given a small sum for the trouble of finding another position as the family wished to engage a governess upon their arrival in Dublin. Sarah detested being a governess, especially to the five sons of the Reardon family, who were her previous employers. It was a relief when she was released from their service although she was certain she might starve. Fortunately, her aunt had reluctantly come to her rescue.

  By her aunt’s generosity, she was now enjoying a Christmas season among titled nobility and the local gentry of the Cotswolds. The Baron Carmody hosted a week of dinners, cards, and a ball every year at the start of the Christmas season. It was the highlight of the social calendar for the Brookes since their father did not wish to travel to London. Sarah was looking forward to enjoying the festivities. If she must endure her aunt’s spite, her cousin’s foibles of being rich, and perhaps the occasional censure by a well-meaning housekeeper, then so be it.

  “I seem to recall your earrings being packed for the journey. I know where I placed them in the trunk. Shall I search for them?” asked Sarah.

  “There is no need, I am already dressed and ready to go down to the drawing room if Katie would come along,” Jane stated impatiently with a groan. “Besides, it is well known that it is not I who shall be seeking the gentlemen’s attention this evening.” A slight twitch of sadness caught her mouth as she looked away, reminding Sarah of how often Mrs. Brookes had told Jane in no uncertain terms, that she was rather plain and without any discernible beauty.

  With a curtsy, the maid stepped back, evidently finished with her work, as Katie exclaimed her satisfaction with the result in the mirror, “My hair is perfect! I will be afraid to move, lest I spoil it.”

  “You are in no danger of ruining it. I watched as it was pinned into place using every hairpin you possess. You could go riding without a hat and your hair will stay just as it is. Come on, I do not want to be late.”

  “I am never late to anything,” Katie stated as she reached for her gloves. With a glance towards Sarah, Katie was quick with a compliment, “How well you look in that dress. Is that one of mine from last season?”

  Katie, in her naïve way, meant to be kind. If anyone else said those exact words, Sarah would have been convinced that it was meant as a slight. But not Katie. Katie was young, sweet in nature and spoke without thinking most of the time. It was not in her temperament to be cruel. She stated the world how it was, even it did sometimes sound terribly insensitive.

  “Yes, this is your own dress from last season,” Sarah answered as she smiled at her cousin.

  It was no secret among the cousins that Jane and Katie often supplied Sarah with a wardrobe far superior to her plain and unassuming dresses. She could scarcely afford a new bonnet and if it were not for their kindness, Sarah would have been wearing her finest dress, a simple tailored gown that was a boring ivory hue without any hint of ribbons for trim or lace. Instead, she was wearing a vision of lavender that was trimmed with expensive ribbons and rosettes at the waist. The bottom was festooned by embroidered roses that matched the lavender silk blooms and ribbons in her blonde hair.

  “The color is becoming,” Katie said as she slid her gloves on her slender hands and past her wrists, “You should wear that color more often.”

  “Yes, she should. Let us go before Mother comes searching for us,” warned Jane.

  With the reminder that Mrs. Brookes may appear at any moment, Sarah, Jane, and Katie made their way down a wide hall, lit by candles in wall sconces. From the corridor, they walked along a balcony that overlooked the great hall. Descending the grand staircase, Sarah tried not to gawk at the tapestries on display hanging f
rom the walls. The great hall at Hatherley never ceased to impress her. A fire burned brightly in the cavernous fireplace that dominated the hall. The crest of the Baron Carmody hung prominently over the mantle adorned by scabbards and swords.

  From the base of the staircase, she followed her cousins into the drawing room where the wealth of the Grainger family was on display. The drawing room, like the rest of the house, was a testament to the longevity and immense prosperity of the Graingers. The room with its polished wood and gleaming brass and crystal was worthy of a Baron and his family. From the deeply hued crimson carpets underneath Sarah’s feet to the tufted and upholstered chairs and couches, the room set the mood of the house and the evening. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the impressive collection of oil paintings but she paid little attention to the art on the walls. She was far too busy searching the room for the one gentleman she wished she may never see again.

  4

  In a sea of fashionable ladies, gentlemen dressed in dark coats and polished boots, Sarah was glad that Jane loaned her a dress that was stylish, even if it was last season’s color and design. There were nods of acknowledgment to the daughters of the vicar and looks of jealousy and interest aimed towards Katie, the comeliest woman in the room. Sarah did not see Mr. Grainger but she did her see her Aunt hurtling straight towards their little group as if she had been standing sentinel waiting for them to appear.

  “There’s my daughter, Katie, looking lovely as ever,” Mrs. Brookes spoke her approval of her youngest daughter as she spirited her away from Jane and Sarah without a word of greeting to either of them.

  Jane made a slight disgusted sound as she remarked, “Sarah, my dear, you never have to concern yourself with being dismissed as my companion. If it was not for you, I should be alone and have no one to talk to in a room filled with people.”

  “Not for long, cousin. Is not Miss Grainger to be with you this evening?”

  “Miss Grainger? No, indeed not. She is to reside in London for the festive season, I believe, now that she is Lady Harrows.” A small sigh escaped Jane as she thought of her dear friend, whom she very clearly missed.

  “I am sorry for her absence. I know she is a very dear friend,” Sarah answered as her eyes locked on the gentleman who made her think about running away to hide. Gasping, she reached for Jane’s arm to steady herself, “Oh Jane, there he is.”

  Mr. Grainger was standing not far from his sister. He was dressed in the deep red regimentals that made his ginger hair nearly golden in the candlelight. In a flash of memories from the Summer, Sarah recalled his stories of the continent, of the war as they strolled along the garden paths of the vicarage and here at Hatherley. He never revealed anything truly shocking, but he made the battles glorious and the sacrifices of the men valiant. She enjoyed his company, not because he was the son of a Baron but because his dark eyes sparkled when he spoke to her. Her stomach knotted at the sight of him, but she remained upright. Her cousin studied her, seeing her mortification as clearly as if she was speaking about it aloud.

  “Sarah. He is not a villain, you will see that in time.”

  “I know he is not a terrible person. You should see the fine room I have been given. The housekeeper nearly had a fit when she escorted me to it. She told me it was at his request that I should be treated above my station.”

  “I presumed he would try to make amends for causing you any embarrassment, and he has. I wager you a sovereign your room is far superior to my own.”

  “How silly of you, you know I am not in possession of a sovereign I can wager. Did you manage the tower room, so that you may play an archer?”

  “Not this time and I am sorely disappointed,” Jane’s voice trailed away as she was surprised by a gentleman who had surreptitiously snuck behind her.

  “Do not scream. It is not proper in a drawing room,” the young man said as he made a show of covering Jane’s eyes.

  The young man shared the same shade of brown hair and the same hazel eyes as Jane; he was taller than her but not by much. He acted as though he was at home in his own drawing room rather than at the stately home of a Baron. Sarah was grateful for the distraction of her cousin, Henry, who had arrived at Hatherley in time for dinner.

  “Henry, I would recognize your antics anywhere,” Jane said as she greeted her eldest brother.

  “You both recall that you are standing in the middle of Hatherley, in the company of the Baron,” Sarah reminded her cousins as she nervously looked around the room.

  “Let them have their fun. What is the harm?” a gentleman said from the other side of Jane.

  Sarah did not know how he appeared without her notice. In the crowded drawing room, perhaps she was distracted by Henry’s lack of decorum. Studying the man who cheerfully chastised her, she did not recognize him, nor was she sure she wanted to be introduced. He was forward, speaking to her as if he knew her. She narrowed her eyes as she stated, “Do I know you, sir?”

  “I doubt it, but I feel I already know who you are. You must be Henry’s younger sister, Miss Brookes.”

  Jane hid a smile. Henry laughed as he said, “No, Charles, this is my cousin, Miss Powell. You recall I told you she may be joining us at Hatherley. She and my sister are quite similar in appearance but there the similarity ends.”

  “Your cousin, and not your sister? You said she was fair of hair and appearance. I am certain this is a mistake often made by gentlemen such as myself,” the man said as his gaze never left Sarah.

  She had never beheld anyone as bold and daring as this man. Sarah wanted to reach out, to strike the look of confidence from his face but she could not. Whoever he was, this gentleman with his lack of decorum and his arrogance obviously was acquainted with her cousin, Henry. He was handsome, his dark blonde hair cut into fashionable waves around his face, his jacket, and waistcoat made of an expensive material that shone in the light. His starched white cravat looked as sumptuous as his jacket. His boots were polished and fitted his muscular legs well. He was a fine figure of a man, but it was his icy blue eyes that were his best feature. In Sarah’s opinion, his eyes matched the winter weather outside as they sparkled when he looked at her.

  “Where are my manners. I humbly apologize,” Henry said as he bowed and then said with a broad smile on his face, “Jane, my dear cousin Sarah Powell, permit me to introduce you to my peer. This gentleman is Mr. Charles Langford of London.”

  Jane acted appalled as she replied to Henry before turning her attention to his companion, “This is the Mr. Langford who I have read about in your letters? Does the Baron know you have invited your mischievous cohort to his Christmas ball? Your exploits, sir, are enviable although I daresay I am surprised to see you in the flesh. I assumed Henry created you as a fictional character.”

  “Mischievous? Fictional? Henry, what have you been writing to your sisters? I was counting on making a good impression,” Mr. Langford said with mock indignation.

  “Oh Mr. Langford, I feel that I know you already. If I were to tell you what my brother has written about you, you would know that I feel that there are no formalities left between us,” replied Jane flippantly.

  “Jane!” Sarah gulped in shock.

  “It is true,” Jane said.

  Mr. Langford did not appear to be insulted by Jane’s sudden familiarity with him, a breach of manners Sarah could not understand as he inquired, “If you know me so well, Miss Brookes, I wonder if you might tell me if we shall be seated together at dinner. I know so few people here at Hatherley as Henry has been delinquent in his duties to introduce me around the room.”

  “Charles, we have just arrived but judging by the number of peers of the realm and titled personages here, I would have to recommend you treat my cousin Sarah with utmost respect as I think you two may be seated together. It is not my responsibility to be hostess and to pair you by rank, but that is my estimation of the situation.”

  “My brother is correct, Mr. Langford. You will be undoubtedly seated
by our cousin Sarah.”

  “Miss Powell, was it?” Mr. Langford asked as his gaze fell on Sarah once more.

  “Yes, Mr. Langford. I am addressed as Miss Powell.”

  “If your cousins know anything about how to properly pair a couple at dinner, we may be together for the remainder of the evening.”

  “How delightful,” Sarah said as she realized that she was likely the lowest ranking woman in the room.

  Unmarried, she was the daughter of a lieutenant. To that, she also added that she born without a title and she was a former governess to her list, as if she was planning the seating chart. There could be no doubt that she would be seated last. She wondered what Henry knew about his companion that allowed for the same assumption about him? From Mr. Langford’s attire, she assumed he was in possession of wealth to purchase fashionable clothing. If he attended the university with Henry, he must have the funds required for an education. Clearly, he was not as poor as she, but he was lacking in rank, in a way she was not aware. Lady Carmody breezily came to speak to the gentlemen as she prepared her guests to make their entrance into the dining room. Under Henry and Jane’s gentle faces and watchful eyes, Sarah was paired with Mr. Langford. It was a fate she privately lamented as he smiled at her in a way that reminded her of the five Reardon boys, all naughty and terrible.

  What happens next with Sarah and Mr. Langford? Check it out on the Kindle Store!

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