Regency Romance: The Rake's Fake Marriage (Historical Arranged Marriage Romance) (19th Century Victorian Romance)

by Sarah Thorn

  By the time he got to the ballroom, he had made a solid case for Rose in his own mind. He would begin to talk to her more. He wanted to get to know her better.

  He immediately got a drink and sat down at a table in the corner. If he wasn’t spotted by too many, he stood less of a chance having to do anything he didn’t want to do. He kept his eyes open for Elizabeth. She was coming late, and he wanted to talk to her about Rose. He knew they spent a lot of time together, and he valued her opinion. He also knew she would gladly give it.

  He looked around at all of the masked people, Lords and Ladies that he knew but didn’t know and wondered how he would spot Elizabeth. Had he told her what his mask looked like? He couldn’t remember. He sighed. Maybe he would recognize her by the way she walked.

  He focused on several women, wondering if she was Elizabeth each time. He nearly jumped out of his seat when a hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up at the woman who had touched him, hoping it was his sister.

  “Richard.” He was relieved to hear Elizabeth’s voice.

  “How did you know?” He asked.

  “You told me, remember?” Elizabeth laughed and shook her head. “Over there. See her? Go ask her to dance. No one is asking her. She looks lonely.”

  “How can you tell?” The woman’s mask was a dark velvet purple and covered most of her slender face.

  Elizabeth laughed.

  “Who is she? What’s her name?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Just go ask her to dance. I was talking to her, and she seems very nice.”

  “Has she been here before? Have I danced with her before?”

  “Will you just go over there? Don’t make me take you by the hand and lead you, brother, that would look very strange, I think.”

  Richard sighed. This was the Elizabeth he was used to. It appeared he’d gotten a short reprieve from her nagging.

  “All right, all right.” He stood up and crossed the room, moving around people politely. When he reached her, he leaned over and held out his hand.

  “Would you like to dance, my lady?”

  Without a word, the woman smiled and gave him her hand. He led her onto the dance floor, where they waited a few seconds for the song to begin. Richard’s first thought when they began to dance was that the woman felt very comfortable in his arms. He wondered about her silence but was enjoying the dance too much to say anything about it. It was the first time he had danced in comfortable silence with a woman. His arm felt good around her waist.

  He was surprised when the song was over. He didn’t want to stop dancing with the silent woman. Unable to contain himself, he bowed low to her and said, “That was a lovely dance, my lady. May I have your name?”

  She smiled and laughed softly. She had been nervous the entire time but had enjoyed the dance more than she ever would have imagined. Now she would have to tell him who she was and had no idea how he would react.

  “Please?” He prompted with a laugh of his own.

  “It’s Rose,” she said softly.

  He stared at her from behind his own mask. “Rose? My Rose?”

  His use of the word “my” delighted her. She giggled and lifted her mask slightly so he could see who she was.

  “Rose!” The way he said her name made it clear he was not unhappy that she was here. “I thought there was something familiar about you! I am glad you are here. I suppose Elizabeth brought you?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “We must dance again, Rose. Would you like that?”

  “I would very much like to.”

  When the music started, they began to dance, his arm around her waist again. She thought she enjoyed that more than anything else.

  “I have been thinking about you, Rose,” he said.

  “Have you?”

  “Yes. You are…you’ve been so good to me and my children. I wish I had seen it before. I wouldn’t have…wasted much of the time I have spent looking…” He stopped talking, and she felt his hand on her waist gripping her a bit tighter. It made her heart skip a beat. “You’re lovely, Rose. I would like to spend more time talking to you.”

  “I would like that, too.”

  He leaned down and when he whispered to her, his lips brushed her ear lightly, sending chills over her arms.

  “The children will be delighted.”

  They both laughed.

  *****

  THE END

  CLEAN REGENCY Romance - A Sister’s Plan

  Chapter One

  Marie Downing glanced at herself in the mirror, pushing her dark hair back and away from her forehead. She looked with disappointment at her face and sighed. She had seen no improvement with the makeup her sisters wore to hide their flaws so she chose to wear very little of it. The blush only made her washed out face look like she’d just been slapped on both sides and lipstick only brought attention to the fact that her lips were thin and her mouth wide.

  Marie painted a picture of herself in her mind as a side show clown and felt very heavy in her heart. She could hear her sisters upstairs. It was time for her to get ready, as well, but she was delaying it. Her sisters took a lot longer than she did, with all of their lace and layers. They did their hair up in fancy dos and painted their faces. Marie didn’t do those things. It was a waste of time. She kept her dark hair back in a bun and only used a bit of powder to add color to her whole face and some pencil around her eyes at the insistence of her older sister, Lucinda.

  Marie began to take the stairs up to the room where her sisters were talking and laughing. She wished she could get in on the fun but had felt like the odd girl out since the beginning. She had one younger sister, and her four other sisters were older than she. They were all beautiful girls, with slender bodies and pretty smiles. They wore the nicest clothes their father, the Earl of Weatherton, could supply. He had offered her the same opportunities, but she had chosen more practical wear and was less enthusiastic about the Season when it came around. She had found no interesting men to come courting her and would rather have played the piano and sang for the guests than dance with them.

  Her father had given her permission to do just that before the Season started. It was her second time around, and she had spent several miserable weeks during the first one being forced to fill up her card every time she went to a ball and dance with some decent and some hideous men.

  She reached out and turned to the knob to enter the room where her sisters were readying themselves for the ball.

  “I suppose we will all have to dance with Duke Arlington and that deplorable Earl George.” She heard Angela saying.

  “George Wright?” Lucinda asked, pulling on the ties to Angela’s corset to tighten them.

  “Yes, that’s just who I mean,” Angela confirmed.

  “He’s not a bad sort.” Lucinda continued. “I won’t mind dancing with him. At least, he doesn’t step on your toes!”

  “It’s simply amazing how many men have no clue about dancing!” Another sister, Caroline, standing by the window looking out, said to no one in particular.

  Marie took her spot in the corner, where her dress was hanging. She pulled it down from the hook and held it out in front of her to scan it. It was new, something her father had picked up for her while abroad in the Americas. He had picked up similar dresses for each of her sisters and had each of them styled slightly differently so they would have their own unique look.

  She liked hers. It was a deep, rich purple that offset the color of her eyes, which had a slight purple tint mixed in with the blue. Her pale skin and indigo eyes were in sharp contrast with her almost-black hair. She felt like it made her look like a ghost.

  Her younger sister, Jenny, was watching her and approached from a few feet away. “Do you like the dress papa bought for you, Marie?”

  Marie looked up at her. Jenny was smiling at her, which prompted her to smile back. “I do.” Marie nodded. “I like it very much. It’s very pretty.”

  “It is pretty.” Jenny reached out an
d stroked the fabric. “Papa always picks the best fabrics for us, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  A voice from behind her made Marie turn. “I don’t know why he bought you a dress at all.” It was her second- to-oldest sister, Madeline. Madeline was due to be married off this year. If she weren't soon, she would be considered a spinster, not just to the masses but in her own mind. Marie was aware that Madeline was unhappy about that situation and confused as to why it was happening at all. Marie wasn’t surprised. Madeline had the personality of a coiled snake about to strike. She had learned nothing in finishing school and insisted that everything be her way or no way. That didn’t go over well with the men that Marie had met so far.

  “Why would you say that?” Jenny asked before Marie could say anything. Not that Marie would say anything. She was used to Madeline’s word jabs.

  “Because all she’s going to do is sit behind the piano and play, making eyes at all the men around her instead of actually dancing with them and attracting one.”

  “I don’t think you are one to talk about attracting men, Maddie.” Jenny took a step so that she was in between Madeline and Marie. “You have not been very successful at that yourself.”

  Madeline huffed and put her nose in the air before turning to pull on a small waist jacket. “At least, I put some effort into it.”

  “Marie has plenty of time. She doesn’t have to choose quickly and get it over with. It’s an important decision and must be made wisely.”

  Madeline had turned her back to Jenny, fastening the small buttons on the jacket.

  Jenny turned back to Marie and reached out to help her pull the gown over her head. “You don’t listen to a word Maddie says, Marie. You know what you’re worth. Don’t settle for anything less.”

  Marie nodded, looking at Jenny with a soft smile. “I won’t.”

  Jenny was a year younger than Marie but wiser in many ways. She had already found the man she wanted to marry but was too shy to tell her father. At just 17, she knew he wouldn’t approve of her choices and especially when he knew who it was – Jonathan Bligh, a nearby farmer who was just now trying to put his father’s farm back on its feet. Jonathan was 20, his father had died only months before, and Jonathan was working his fingers to the bone to save the only home he knew.

  Jenny had been in love with Jonathan for as long as she could remember and they had made a pact to get married as soon as she turned 18. Now it was only a few months away, and she was anxious. She was a wise girl, and Marie approved of Jonathan. She hoped their father would, as well, when the time came.

  “Somebody needs to tell Duke Arlington what he’s worth,” Madeline said, joining their sister, Caroline, at the window, where they both looked out over the grounds and at the bright blue sky dotted with just a few white clouds.

  “Are you interested in Duke Arlington??” Caroline stared at her with wide eyes, a shocked expression on her face.

  Madeline screwed up her face in disgust and then laughed abruptly. “No, dear sister. Not at all. The Duke’s problem is that he thinks he’s worth more than he is. Someone needs to bring him down to the ground, in my opinion. A man that ugly shouldn’t be trying to win over the hearts of pretty women.”

  “That’s a cruel thing to say, Madeline,” Marie spoke up.

  Madeline turned to stare at her. “You wouldn’t know a thing about it, little girl. You spend all of your time hiding behind your piano. If you aren’t even going to try, I’m not going to give you any sympathy. And you shouldn’t speak when you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Stop it, Maddie.” Lucinda shook her head at Madeline, sitting to pull on her boots and lace them. “You are being very foul today. What’s wrong?”

  Madeline turned her narrow eyes to Lucinda and shook her head. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me. What’s wrong with her? She is never going to get married at this rate!”

  “Madeline, why does it matter to you when Marie gets married?” Lucinda had stopped in the middle of lacing one boot and was staring at her older sister. “You are not yet there yourself. You should be worrying about what is going on in your own life instead of berating Marie for the lack of action in hers.”

  “Beth was married when she was Marie’s age.” Madeline sniffed.

  Lucinda raised her eyebrows at the mention of their oldest sister and gave Madeline a disgusted look. “Maddie, you are several years older than Marie, and you aren’t married. Please don’t continue. You are only making a fool of yourself.”

  Madeline huffed in embarrassment and stomped out the door, one hand holding on to her skirts so she could walk quicker and the other one clutching her folded fabric fan. Before she reached the door, she had flipped it open and was fanning her heated face. She gave them all one more defiant look before flying out the door and slamming it behind her.

  Jenny turned back to help Marie after watching the scene unfold. She was shaking her head. “I can’t believe that girl sometimes. It seems she is living in her own world most of the time.”

  “And she is the queen there,” Marie added.

  Jenny pulled Marie into a quick hug. “She’s going to be very lonely for a long time if she continues to live there. You’re going to be fine, Marie. God will provide your man in due time.”

  Marie smiled at her. “I know. I’m not worried. I don’t feel sociable most of the time anyway, why would I want to share that with a man? I really don’t feel I need to. At least, not right now.”

  Jenny took her sister’s hand, and the two of them sat on a long cushioned bench so Jenny could apply a bit of makeup to Marie’s eyes and face. “You like to be alone, don’t you, Marie?”

  Marie shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”

  Jenny squeezed her hand. “When you are attracted to a man, and you fall in love, you will feel more sociable, I bet. There’s nothing like love to make you glow like a firefly.”

  “Is that so?” Marie smiled at her sister.

  “It is.”

  “That must be why you are always glowing then.”

  Jenny laughed and pulled Marie into another hug. “You are a sweet, sweet sister, Marie. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Do you think you will do any dancing tonight at all?”

  Marie pressed her lips together and looked down. “I…I’m not sure. Maybe with Cornelius, at least.”

  “Well, if you feel like dancing and not playing the piano or singing for everybody, you let me know, and I will find someone for you to dance with.”

  “That feels like cheating.” Marie giggled. “I should be waiting for someone to ask me who hasn’t been encouraged to do so.”

  “Nonsense!” Jenny laughed. “How will they ever know about you from behind that piano? They probably all think you came with it! You have to meet them somehow and what better way than through a recommendation from me? I know everyone!”

  The girls laughed. It was true that Jenny was a social butterfly. But Marie was fairly certain that everyone knew she was betrothed to Jonathan. Everyone except their father.

  Chapter Two

  When she entered the ballroom, Marie felt instantly out of place. She was familiar with many of the men there. They were standing around and sitting at the tables, drinking and talking to all the women. They seemed comfortable and happy. Most of them did, anyway. They were handsome and rich and knew what they wanted.

  She wished she felt that same security.

  She made a beeline for the large piano set apart from the orchestra where she would take her place for the evening. Madeline was right that Marie spent her time there and rarely got up. She danced during her first Season and saw no need to this time. Her sister had been wrong, however, when she said that Marie never got attention behind the piano. Several times, men had come over and offered her a drink and asked to be placed on her dance card. She usually declined, stating that she was here to play the piano and not to dance. The rejection was usually taken
with an air of nonchalance and the men would just nod and go off to find another victim.

  She slid into the piano bench and lifted the cover from the keys. She eyed them lovingly and softly ran one finger over them. She smiled to herself.

  “You have a very nice smile, you know.” She heard and looked up abruptly into the eyes of her good friend, Cornelius Argabright. He was smiling from ear to ear.

  “Cornelius! How are you this evening?” She lifted one hand, which he took and touched with his lips before releasing it.

  “I am good, Marie, thank you. How are you?”

  “I am looking forward to playing some beautiful music tonight.”

  “Oh? So I assume it’s more of the usual for you, then.”

  She caught the compliment and blushed. “Thank you, Cornie.”

  “You do play such beautiful music. I suppose you have plenty of room on your card. Care to dance with me once this evening?”

  She bit her bottom lip and grinned at him. “I would like that. Are you booked much tonight?”

  He laughed. “I have all the ladies after me, Marie. You know that.”

  She eyed him. He was rich and handsome and very popular. The masses had expected her to marry him someday but it wasn’t in the cards, and they both knew it. They were good friends but would never be anything more than that. Cornelius was the only man Marie had ever felt comfortable with but her feelings for him had never grown any further.

  As for him, he knew he was an eligible bachelor in every sense of the word and therefore, kept his options open. He liked Marie, but she was not the woman he would marry. He was still looking for that woman and was confident his choice would be the right one. In the meantime, he enjoyed spending time with his friend.

  “I do.” She finally replied. “So you just let me know when and I will have someone play while I dance.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’ll be back to fetch you for the fifth.”

  “All right.” Marie smiled at him. “I’ll see you then.”

  Cornelius bowed dramatically and took a few steps backward before turning around and disappearing in the crowd. She watched him as he left. Her eyes were diverted to his left, where Duke Arlington had just stepped into the room. His face was distinguishable because of the long scar that traced the side of his face on the left side from his eye down to his chin, where it was buried under a trim dark brown beard. She had been told the scar came from a fencing duel he had been in when he was a younger man in his early 20’s. She wondered if it was true. She watched him eyeing everyone around him. He was standing with a group of men. They were all talking and laughing while he stood with a solemn face, as usual.