An accomplished beauty...
But a most unsuitable match!
Natalya Fairchild can’t help but be drawn to Tristan Quintrell, Lord Dalmorren, with his effortless charisma, even if he’s not her intended bridegroom. Tristan is an eligible society catch...whereas Natalya’s unknown heritage could label her ruined. As Tristan helps Natalya investigate her mysterious past, she starts to hope the truth of her conception won’t destroy her prospects...of a life with Tristan!
“You have spoken to my uncle,” Natalya said. “What did he tell you about me?”
“Nothing.”
“Then you know as much as I.” Suddenly she was tired of the pretense. “I have no idea who my mother or father was. I am accepted in Bath because the Pridhams are rich and claim me as their kin, but I am not considered a suitable match...for anyone. You would be advised to stay away from me.”
“Why? I am responsible to no one for my actions. If I ride beside you it is because I want to do so. I enjoy the company and conversation of an intelligent woman. Many men do, you know, Miss Fairchild.”
She stared straight ahead, blinking away a sudden rush of tears.
“Now, what have I said to make you cry?”
“Why, nothing. I am merely being foolish.”
She forced a smile. Tristan’s words confirmed her fears. She had read of girls being educated to a high standard and given all the accomplishments to amuse a rich and powerful man. Not with the aim of becoming his wife, but his courtesan.
Author Note
Genealogy is very popular at the moment. Many of us are keen to learn more about our history, who we are, where we came from. Today we can even find out most of this information without ever leaving the house. For a small fee we can delve into the records online and even take a DNA test to discover more about our ancestors. For a young lady in Regency England, things were much more difficult.
At the start of this story Natalya, “the mysterious Miss Fairchild,” knows nothing about her parents and her questions are met with silence. Growing up, her fertile imagination has imagined all kinds of scenarios, but as she nears her twenty-first birthday, she has no idea if she is the daughter of a countess or a courtesan and it begins to worry her. Because until she knows about her past, she can make no decisions about her future.
I hope you will enjoy Natalya’s journey, with its twists and turns. It was a joy to write, and I admit to giving a little sigh of satisfaction when she finally discovers who she is, what she is and, more important, what she wants.
Happy reading!
SARAH MALLORY
The Mysterious
Miss Fairchild
Sarah Mallory grew up in the West Country, England, telling stories. She moved to Yorkshire with her young family, but after nearly thirty years living in a farmhouse on the Pennines, she has now moved to live by the sea in Scotland. Sarah is an award-winning novelist with more than twenty books published by Harlequin Historical. She loves to hear from readers; you can reach her via her website at sarahmallory.com.
Books by Sarah Mallory
Harlequin Historical
The Scarlet Gown
Never Trust a Rebel
The Duke’s Secret Heir
Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance
His Countess for a Week
The Mysterious Miss Fairchild
Saved from Disgrace
The Ton’s Most Notorious Rake
Beauty and the Brooding Lord
The Highborn Housekeeper
The Infamous Arrandales
The Chaperon’s Seduction
Temptation of a Governess
Return of the Runaway
The Outcast’s Redemption
Brides of Waterloo
A Lady for Lord Randall
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com for more titles.
For my family. All of them.
Wherever they are.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Excerpt from The Master’s New Governess by Eliza Redgold
Chapter One
‘Tristan, I want to take a wife!’
Tristan Quintrell, Lord Dalmorren, paused a moment before replying to the young man standing on the other side of the desk.
‘Well, that has surprised me,’ he said at last. ‘I knew you wanted something, Freddie, but I thought you needed me to bail you out.’
‘Good God, no!’ Young Mr Erwin looked aggrieved at the suggestion. ‘I ain’t always in dun territory, you know.’
‘Forgive me,’ murmured his host drily, ‘but it has been the reason for all your other visits to Dalmorren this past year.’
The young man flushed slightly. ‘Well, a fellow has to kick up a bit of a dust when he is first on the town, you know. And besides, you told me to come to you rather than Mama if I needed funds. But that’s not why I am here, Tristan. I am in love!’
This statement, delivered in ecstatic accents, did not impress his host. It was on the tip of Tristan’s tongue to retort that, having not yet reached one-and-twenty, Freddie would fall in and out of love a dozen times before settling down, but he held back. The glowing look in the young man’s eyes and his beatific smile persuaded him that Freddie was well and truly smitten.
A mere eight years separated the two men. Freddie was the son of Tristan’s sister. She was sixteen years older than he and his only remaining sibling, the others having failed to survive beyond the nursery years. Her late spouse had taken the precaution of making his brother-in-law joint guardian of his only child. Tristan had barely reached his majority when his own father died and that circumstance, together with the responsibility for his widowed sister and her son three years later, had weighed heavily upon the young Lord Dalmorren, giving him a maturity well beyond his years. He therefore did not mock Freddie for his infatuation. Instead he got up from his desk and walked across his study to the side table, where he poured two glasses of Madeira.
‘Here.’ He handed one to Freddie. ‘I think you had best sit down and tell me all about it.’
The boy needed no second bidding. He pulled a chair close to the desk and sat down, saying eagerly, ‘We met in Bath, in February. Do you recall I told you I was going there with Gore Conyer? His family lives there. I never expected to like the place above half, but then I saw Her.’
‘And does the lady have a name?’
Freddie put down his glass and clasped his hands together. He said ecstatically. ‘Miss Fairchild, but she allows me to call her Lya!’
‘Leah, the name of Jacob’s wife, in the Bible?’ Tristan raised an eyebrow and said drily, ‘I believe that means weary, in Hebrew.’
Freddie shook his head, saying impatiently, ‘No, no, that’s not it at all. Quite absurd. Her name is Natalya, but those close to her use the shortened form.’ His face relaxed into another blissful smile. ‘Lya.’
With a great effort of will Tristan forbore to tease him. ‘You had best tell me where it was you fi
rst saw the lady.’
‘It was just as we were leaving the theatre. Gore’s parents had hired a box for us to see Macbeth. I am not a lover of Shakespeare, but it would have been churlish not to go. At the end, Gore and I waited in the foyer for Mr and Mrs Conyer to join us. They know everyone in Bath, you see, and it took them an age to make their way to the door. But that’s by the bye! I happened to look round and there she was, making her way out of the theatre with an old lady wearing the most outmoded fashions!’
He noted Tristan’s look of surprise and laughed. ‘No, it wasn’t Natalya in the odd clothes. She was looking very elegant in cream muslin, but her companion was dressed in the most shocking bright green creation and a headpiece bedecked with any number of feathers and ribbons. That’s what attracted my attention, to begin with, until I saw Miss Fairchild. Our eyes met and...that was it. I knew I was in love—’ He broke off and gave a loud sigh. ‘Oh, Tristan, if you could only have been there.’
‘I am glad I was not,’ retorted his uncle, grimacing. ‘I think I might have been very unwell!’
Freddie waved this aside. ‘I mean I wish you could have seen her. Then you would understand. She is the most beautiful creature! Face and figure quite perfect. Dark hair, coal-black eyes, an ivory complexion—exquisite!’
‘So what did you do?’
‘What could I do? I touched my hat as she went past.’
‘You disappoint me. I thought you would have immediately stepped up and demanded an introduction.’
‘If only I could have done so! Good God, Tris, I am not so lost to all good manners, you know. As it happens, it was a good thing I didn’t jump in. Mrs Conyer told me the old lady is Mrs Ancrum, one of Bath’s most respected residents and a stickler for propriety. Fortunately, the Conyers are acquainted with her and they presented me when we...er...happened to meet in the Pump Room.’
Tristan felt a smile tugging at his lips. ‘Goodness me. Shakespeare, the Pump Room—you grow old before your time, Nevvy.’
Freddie grinned. ‘I am merely getting in practice for when I have to take you there, my aged guardian! But enough funning.’ He put down his empty glass and leaned forward, fixing Tristan with his trusting blue eyes. ‘Tris, I am serious about this, I want to make her an offer, but I need to make sure I have your permission, first.’
‘And your mother’s agreement. She is your guardian, too, remember.’
‘Yes, yes, but Mama will not be a problem. She would never deny me my happiness. But that is not the only thing, I do not gain control of my inheritance until I reach five-and-twenty, so, until that time, I shall need an increase in my allowance, if I am to set up my own establishment.’
‘Naturally,’ murmured Tristan. ‘What do we know of Miss Fairchild, save that she is the most beautiful female you have ever clapped eyes on? What relation is she to this Mrs Ancrum?’
‘None. Natalya is an orphan. She lives in Sydney Place with her aunt and uncle. Mr and Mrs Pridham. They live very quietly, but they are perfectly respectable. And you are not to be thinking they have been putting Natalya in my way. Quite the opposite, in fact. She is closely chaperoned whenever she goes abroad, at balls she is permitted no more than two dances with any gentleman, and whenever I have called at the house Mrs Pridham ensures we are never alone. They never give one the least encouragement.’ His cheerful, open countenance clouded slightly. ‘To be frank, they are downright discouraging! That is why I want to make sure I have your blessing before I proceed.’
‘And have you mentioned it to your mother?’
‘Not yet. She has been in London with Grandmama, did you know?’
‘Yes. She wrote to tell me she had watched the procession of King Louis from Hyde Park to Grillon’s.’ Tristan’s mouth turned down. ‘I have no doubt the crowds will be even worse when the rest of the Allied Sovereigns arrive in June.’
Freddie waved this aside as an irrelevance. ‘She should be back at Frimley any day now, so I am on my way there to see her.’ He gave Tristan a boyish smile. ‘I thought I would stop off first and talk to you. I know that if you do not object, Mama will be happy.’
‘And how long do you plan to remain at Frimley?’
‘Oh, a week, perhaps two.’ He added, shyly, ‘I thought, when I return to Bath, I might take with me an invitation from Mama for Natalya to visit her at Frimley.’
‘I see.’
Tristan sat back and sipped his wine, digesting all he had heard. He was loath to dash Freddie’s hopes, but he was sure that his sister Katherine would be aghast at the idea of her only son taking a bride about whom they knew nothing.
He said, ‘I think it behoves us to find out a little more about the lady before you ask my sister for her blessing.’
‘Pridham is a gentleman and Lya is accepted everywhere in Bath. I cannot see that anything else is important.’
‘You might not, but you may be damned sure your mother will! What do you know of Miss Fairchild’s parents, or her fortune?’
Freddie jumped to his feet, a mutinous look on his face.
‘Are you forbidding the banns, Tristan? Because, by heaven, if you are—’
‘Oh, sit down, you young hothead, I am not forbidding anything, but your mother will need to be reassured before she will give her permission to your forming an attachment at your age.’
‘But she will come around to it, once she knows Natalya.’
‘I am sure she will, but in the meantime, she could make things very uncomfortable for the lady.’
‘Aye, so she could. Hell and damnation, Tristan, I have already written to Mama and told her I am coming to stay!’
‘Well, that need not change. She will be delighted to see you, I am sure. Only do not mention Miss Fairchild. At least not until I have made a few enquiries of my own.’
‘Oh?’ Freddie looked suspicious. ‘How are you going to do that?’
‘By going to Bath, what else?’ Tristan grinned. ‘At my advanced age, it might benefit me to...er...take the waters.’
* * *
‘Oh, oh, devil take it!’
The pianoforte resounded with an inharmonious discord as Natalya slammed her fingers down upon the keys. It expressed her mood perfectly, but she felt guilty for her outburst and immediately glanced around to make sure she was alone.
She took a deep breath. There was no point in taking her frustration out on the poor instrument. The piece was well within her ability, but she had not touched the pianoforte all week, that was the simple truth. She was tired of spending her time at her studies when other young ladies were out riding and walking and sallying forth for picnics. True, very few of her aunt and uncle’s acquaintances invited her to join such outings—with the exception of the Grishams, most families in Bath kept their distance—but even when she was invited, the Pridhams often refused, saying her studies were more important. Why, it was only this year that she had been allowed to attend the balls at the Assembly Rooms!
Uncle Pridham had assured her everything would change in June, when she reached one-and-twenty, but until then the strict regime of study must be maintained. She could hardly refuse to see the tutors employed by her uncle, but she could spend her time reading or sketching rather than practising at the pianoforte. It was a tiny act of rebellion and she was not particularly proud of it. She was grateful for her aunt and uncle’s efforts on her behalf, but sometimes she wished they would not try quite so hard.
There was a knock at the door and the music teacher was shown in. Natalya turned to him with an apologetic smile.
‘I fear you are going to be very disappointed with me this week, Mr Spark...’
* * *
Later, at the Assembly Rooms, Natalya sought out her friend Miss Grisham, a lively redhead in a gown of lemon muslin. She sat down beside her with an exaggerated sigh.
‘I am late, Jane, I know it. Pray do not scold me, I have
had the...the devil of a day. Aggie is at outs with me because I tore my new muslin gown and forgot to tell her and there is nothing more uncomfortable than a maid’s sulks, you know. Then I had to endure two hours of Italian conversation and, to cap it all, Mr Spark read me a lecture because I had not perfected Mr Handel’s Sarabande.’
‘Much you care for that,’ replied her friend, smiling. ‘But what was it you said about Italian, Lya—has Mr Pridham managed to find you a new teacher?’
‘Yes, we had our first lesson this morning. Although I wonder my uncle should put himself to the trouble. It is little more than a month now until I come of age and he knows I intend to give up my studies then.’
‘And is he young and handsome, this new teacher?’ Jane asked her.
‘He is neither of those things.’ Natalya shuddered. ‘He is very short and very dark, with lascivious eyes and a wet mouth. I fear, if he had the opportunity, the signor would try to make love to me and I should be obliged to stab him with my hatpin. Thankfully, my aunt insists I am never alone with any member of the male sex.’ She giggled. ‘I know I have complained about that in the past, but in this instance, I am extremely grateful.’
‘And so you should be, Lya,’ replied her friend. ‘The Pridhams take extremely good care of you, you know.’
‘Yes, I do know. I am aware how fortunate I am to have such caring guardians, but it is all so, so stifling!’ She sighed. ‘I only wish I knew what they mean by it all.’
‘To keep you safe, of course. To protect your reputation and wrap you in a positive cloud of respectability in order that you can make a most advantageous marriage!’
Natalya shook her head, all desire to laugh gone. ‘I do not think that can be the case. Else why did they discourage Lord Austwick from making me an offer? He is as rich as Croesus and an earl to boot. And why am I to have all these extra lessons? Music, French and Italian. Russian history, to say nothing of the geometry and philosophy and all the other things I studied while at school! No woman is educated to this level merely to become a wife!’
The Mysterious Miss Fairchild (HQR Historical) Page 1