A Season of Romance

by Wendy Soliman

  Downsizing

  Topspin

  The Name of the Game

  The Deadline Series Boxset

  A Date to Die For/ A Contest to Kill For

  English Contemporary Romance Boxset

  Reinventing Radleigh/ Shalimar/Silver Lining

  The Hunter Files

  Unfinished Business

  Risky Business

  Lethal Business

  Lord Sawsbury Seeks a Bride

  By

  Fenella J Miller

  Chapter One

  Suffolk, February 1814.

  'My lord, you have no other option. Unless you marry money, your estate will be forfeit and your brother and sister destitute.'

  Simon was tempted to throw the nearest book at his lawyer but restrained the impulse. 'Foster, is there nothing else I can sell?'

  'No, sir, there is not. Your father borrowed heavily against the estate and his debts must be paid by the summer.'

  'Then I have no recourse but to open the house in Grosvenor Square and set things in motion. Emily can have her come-out ball at the same time.'

  His lawyer was about to protest at this suggestion but Simon raised his hand. 'This is the last chance she might have to find herself a husband before we lose everything. I thank God that Richard is safe at school and knows nothing of this disaster.'

  'On consideration, my lord, I think your suggestion to be sensible. There is more chance of you acquiring yourself an heiress if you do not look too desperate. At least your estates are in good heart and have been managed well despite the depredations that your father made to fund his gambling.'

  'I shall need to borrow more in order to bring this off, Foster, can you obtain the wherewithal to fund this final throw of the dice?'

  'I can, my lord, the bank would prefer you to pay your debts rather than take your estate from you. However, Lady Emily will not be able to purchase a new wardrobe but will have to manage with what she has. I think it unlikely there will be more than just enough to open the house and hold a ball.'

  Simon surged to his feet indicating the meeting was over. He rang the bell placed on the side of his desk and the waiting footman appeared ready to escort his lawyer out.

  It was a damnable business and he blamed himself for not realising sooner that his father had gambled away the family fortune. He suspected now that the accident with the pistol had been suicide. No point in repining over what was done. He must now do everything he could to rectify matters.

  He was about to go in search of his sister when she burst into the study. 'What did he say? Is it as bad as you feared?'

  'It is, Emily, and we must both parade in London this Season in order to find ourselves a rich partner.'

  She seemed unbothered by his comment. 'Then it's fortunate I can design my own gowns and that Molly and I can sew them. All I need is the latest fashion plates and I can assure you I will be in the first stare of fashion.'

  'Gentlemen's attire does not change so rapidly so I've no need to replace anything of mine. I take it there's still a plentiful supply of the Indian materials our grandfather brought back with him?'

  'There is indeed. If we are to hold a ball in my honour then we must set a date and send out invitations in the next week or two. The beginning of May is the best time as the weather won't be too hot and our guests won't yet be jaded from attending too many routs, soirées and balls.'

  'Then I'll leave those arrangements in your capable hands, sweetheart, and go to Town and see what needs doing at the house. I thought we could transfer the staff from here and not employ fresh for our stay in London.'

  She took his place at the desk and was busy scribbling down the families they must invite to the ball. Emily was six years his junior and at nineteen might be considered a little old to be a debutante. However, the fact that they had been in mourning for a year was explanation enough for her late arrival on the marriage mart.

  His sister was above average height, slender and shared the same colouring as him. Her eyes were a dark blue and her hair a rich, nut-brown. She had fashionable ringlets and he was certain with her wit and beauty she would have no difficulty finding herself a suitable husband.

  She glanced up and smiled. 'Do I pass muster, brother? Brunettes are not de rigeur this year but I hope my impeccable pedigree will compensate for that.'

  'I am the Earl of Sawsbury. That will have to be sufficient as I have nothing else to offer.'

  She laughed. 'Good heavens, brother, have you looked in the glass recently? You're a veritable Adonis, young ladies will be swooning at your feet. The only reason you've not been snapped up before now is because you've avoided London during the Season.'

  'I've not been snapped up as you so politely put it because matrimony does not interest me. Having watched our parents destroy each other, and our grandparents before that, I've been in no hurry to put my head in parson's mousetrap.'

  'Both our grandparents and parents married for love and we intend to do so for pragmatic reasons. Neither of us believe in romantic love – we know that doesn't last. However, I'm certain a business arrangement will work splendidly for both of us.' She held up her hand and counted on her fingers. 'These are the things that we need to find in the one we choose. One, respect, two, liking, three, intelligence, four, a sense of humour. If whoever we choose has these attributes I'm certain we will be content.'

  There was something else he wanted but he could hardly add this to her list. Mentioning physical desire to his younger sister would not be appropriate.

  'There's one essential you neglected to mention, whoever we choose must have deep pockets. Another thing, I don't think we both need to make this sacrifice. Shall we agree that if one of us meets someone who fits our list of requirements the other can then withdraw?'

  'Absolutely not. I wish to be married and have children of my own to love – and it's high time you set up your own nursery.' She tapped the paper in front of her. 'Go away, Simon, and leave me to compile my list. You have to go to Town immediately and discover what dates have already been taken. It would be an absolute disaster to hold our ball on the same day as someone else. Another thing, we shall require tickets for Almack's.'

  He was unable to prevent his look of horror at the thought of attending such a dismal place. Her laughter followed him out. Fortunately, it was no more than a few hours' journey to Town and if he set off at first light tomorrow he could be there before dark.

  *

  'Miss Annabel Burgoyne, if you don't come down from the tree this instant I shall insist that your father takes a birch to you when you do descend.'

  Bella smiled at her irate mama. 'We both know he'll do no such thing. Anyway, Papa has never raised a hand to me and is unlikely to do so now that I'm full-grown.'

  Her mother put her hands on her hips and glared up into the bare branches of the massive oak tree. 'Why must you be so perverse? I cannot think of another young lady who has just been told they are to have a London Season, that their papa has taken a house in the most prestigious part of Town, that they are to have an entirely new wardrobe and…'

  'Mama, all that would be delightful if I didn't know you expected me to choose an aristocratic husband by the end of it.' With a sigh of resignation, she dropped to the lower branches and then swung to the ground. If she'd been wearing a gown and not men's breeches this would have been impossible.

  'Here I am, I apologise for upsetting you. I know that you and Papa wish for me to marry well and I give you my word I'll do my best. Have you considered that although I'm considered beautiful and am most likely the young lady with the biggest dowry, these things might not compensate for my ancestry.'

  'I know, I know, my love, being the daughter of a gentleman who made his fortune in trade, whose grandfather was a groom, is not something to be proud of…'

  'Enough of that, Mama. I refuse to be ashamed that I have not a drop of aristocratic blood in my body. There are bound to be impoverished aristocrats desperate to marry an heires
s, even one like me, and I shall do my best to entice one of them to offer for me.'

  Her mother's anger melted like snow in the sunshine and she was embraced. 'We shall leave the choice to you as you have a sensible head on your shoulders. There's no rush, you're only nineteen years of age, you can have two further Seasons before you will be considered on the shelf. Your father and I have no wish for you to marry anyone you cannot like.'

  'I've no intention of doing so. I'm not sure what I want in a husband but I'm absolutely certain what I don't want. I shall not look in the direction of a dissolute gentleman, a gambler, a drinker or a violent man. He must be kind, personable and reasonably intelligent – apart from that I've no preferences.'

  'Will you not be curious as to why he might be impecunious?'

  'I'm assuming that his father will have ruined the family finances and the son is now doing what he can to put matters right.'

  Her father was waiting inside to speak to her. 'Bella, I have here a list of possible candidates. I've had them vetted so you can be assured they're not vicious in any way.' He handed her two sheets of closely written paper.

  'Good heavens! I'd no idea there would be so many for me to choose from. I'm going to change and will then peruse this with interest. I won't ask how your man obtained this information.'

  Her maid, Annie, had hot water and clean clothes awaiting her arrival. It took less than half an hour to restore her appearance from disgraceful to acceptable. She viewed herself in the long glass and nodded.

  Chestnut hair and vivid green eyes were not to everybody's taste, but they made her stand out in a crowd. Her features were regular, she had curves in all the expected places and a perfect set of teeth. She was sanguine that if her beloved papa managed to obtain vouchers for Almack's assembly rooms she would turn a few heads.

  Fortunately, he had one or two prestigious connections, members of the ton that he had lent money to at an advantageous rate, and both gentlemen had promised to get her name on the list and also have them included in all the important invitations. From then on it would be up to her to find herself a husband she could be happy with.

  'I don't remember wearing this gown before, Annie.'

  'You have so many, miss, I doubt that you'll ever wear them all. Pale green velvet is perfect with your colouring.'

  She supposed that if she spent more time correctly dressed and less raking around the place in men's clothing, riding astride, behaving as if she was the son of the house and not a daughter, more of her extensive wardrobe would be worn.

  With the list in her hand she headed for her sitting room and curled up on the window seat where one found the best light. February could be unpleasant but the weather had been remarkably clement and the weak, winter sunshine was sufficient for her to be able to read the interesting information on the sheets of paper.

  As she read she understood that another requirement for her future husband was his age. She scrambled from her perch and sat at her desk. Picking up a pen, she trimmed it, uncorked the ink and was ready to slash a line through those over thirty-five. Sixteen years older than her was more than enough.

  This left a dozen and she decided to remove widowers as well. She had no wish to be mama to someone else's children – the only reason she'd agreed to marry was because she wanted babies of her own.

  Papa had not thought to include any physical description of the gentlemen, just their ages, locations and their reasons for being available to a hopeful debutante. There were now only seven to consider which would make things easier.

  Her smile was rueful as she read the pages again. No doubt these aristocratic, would-be bridegrooms were also studying a similar list with the names of heiresses on it. She rather thought she would come at the bottom of the list because of her family – any of them would prefer a young lady who was gently born.

  Although they were to reside in Grosvenor Square, the largest square in London where all the houses were of modern construction and quite splendid, there was little point in arranging a ball for herself as no one of importance would accept their invitations. They must rely on smaller events, card parties, musical evenings, that sort of thing.

  Her parents were, as always, sitting together in the study. In the winter they rarely bothered to use the main reception rooms as they were too difficult to heat. They held no parties, received few invitations, so what was the point in wasting fuel?

  'Well, what do you think of the selection I've found for you?'

  'Papa, I removed those I'm not interested in and this leaves just seven possible gentlemen. How do you intend to ensure that I meet them all?' Not waiting for an answer, she continued with the concern that was uppermost in her mind. 'I think the most eligible of these bachelors might well not be available to me as they will naturally select a young lady who not only has money but also a reasonable pedigree. I expect there are several of those…'

  'Annabel, if the girl has money and breeding then she won't be looking at these gentlemen. She will have the pick of the crop. Rest assured, you will be competing with girls from a similar background to yours and I doubt that any of them can compare to you.'

  She dropped into the nearest chair feeling foolish. 'Of course, I really have not thought this through. Those you have on your list will be more desperate to find themselves a wife they can bear to live with than I am to find myself an aristocratic husband. Our wealth comes from shipping and other manufactories but I defy anyone to discern any difference in my behaviour, education or manners to the daughter of a duke.'

  Mama nodded vigorously. 'Indeed, my love, you are right to say so. We spared no expense on your upbringing, you had the best tutors and governesses money could buy. Your papa and I have done our best to improve our own diction and I think we would pass muster in any drawing room.'

  She hated the fact that they had felt obliged to change in order to be accepted by members of a Society who she thoroughly despised. The ladies led a life of idleness, were waited on hand and foot and the gentlemen were no better. The thought of marrying into the ton, being obliged to behave as if she didn't have a sensible thought in her head, filled her with dismay.

  'I've come to a decision – I fear it might be one you disapprove off. However much you wish me to marry an aristocrat I'll not do so unless he accepts you as you are. He must be prepared to welcome you into his family and introduce you to all his friends without hesitation.'

  They exchanged a worried glance. Her father cleared his throat. 'Then I fear the venture is doomed to failure. I cannot imagine there's an aristocrat in the country who would welcome us into their house. No, we are resigned to seeing very little of you or our future grandchildren. Our aim is for you to join the aristocracy.'

  She looked from one to the other in shock. 'That's fustian. I'll not marry anyone who wishes to shun you. You are my beloved parents and you will always be part of my life and that of any children I might be blessed with, and that's an end to the matter.'

  'Darling child, you're well aware that we're somewhat older than most parents with a girl your age. There was no time for children any earlier as we were too busy building up the business. Your papa was travelling abroad with his ships whilst I ran the offices here. It's our dearest wish to see you well settled before we go to meet our maker…'

  'Neither of you have reached your sixtieth year – you're fit and healthy – I'm certain you will both live to be octogenarians so I'll hear no more of that nonsense.'

  'Then are we to proceed with this venture or do you wish us to cancel the arrangements?' Her father waited for her answer.

  'No, we shall continue. I've made my feelings clear and as long as you don't have unrealistic expectations then the whole thing might be quite enjoyable. Something has occurred to me, Mama, if you're so certain you'll not be welcomed into the best drawing rooms or receive invitations to the prestigious parties, who is then to accompany me? I can hardly go on my own.'

  'We have employed the relic of one Sir Humphrey Jones. She
has impeccable breeding but he left her all but destitute. She will be joining us here next week and will oversee the arrangements from then on. I have been reliably informed she is received everywhere.'

  Papa smiled benevolently at mama's comment. 'I intend to provide her with a new wardrobe and sufficient funds to be able to live comfortably for several years – I shall buy her a small estate if she is successful in finding you an aristocrat that you are prepared to marry.'

  Chapter Two

  Simon left Sawsbury Hall at dawn. His valet, Mason, thundered along behind him with his overnight baggage. Their horses were massive, well up to the task of carrying them all the way to Town as long as they were given time to rest on the journey.

  His trunk was following behind in a closed carriage along with a skeleton staff who would be able to cater for his needs at the house in Grosvenor Square. He stopped for refreshments and to give the horses a well-earned breather at the Red Lion in Colchester.

  This town was bustling – it was market day and the main thoroughfare was redolent of cattle and other farm beasts and he decided not to venture from the inn. Two hours later he set off again and arrived in Chelmsford where he allowed the horses to recuperate for a second time at the Saracens Head. Eventually, he reached his overnight destination in Romford and was glad to wash the grime of the long ride from his person and devour a substantial supper.

  'Mason, bring me my shaving water at dawn. I want to be in London by midday.'

  'Yes, my lord. I fear it's going to be raining tomorrow. The skies are black and there's thunder around.'

  'Then we shall get wet.'

  He dismissed his man, who had accommodation somewhere in the attics, and fell into bed to be roused the following morning with the welcome smell of strong, dark coffee. This was his favourite beverage – he much preferred it to the insipid taste of tea that ladies appeared to enjoy.