Love in the Moonlight: A Regency Romance All Hallows' Eve Collection: 7 Delightful Regency Romance All Hallows' Eve Stories (Regency Collections Book 6)

by Arietta Richmond

  He gazed at Madalene, raising an eyebrow so that she blushed.

  “Was Alice the reason you have not married before now?” she asked.

  Gabriel paused.

  “Only partly. The other reason was my father. He insisted that I should never have children. That his… ailment, or whatever he thought it was, that caused Alice to be, shall we say, intellectually very limited, was a family curse and part of what he had likely passed on to me. I have sought the advice of several doctors about the matter, but none can either confirm nor deny whether I could pass a similar fate to my own children.”

  “My lord, our marriage is not contingent on our having children.” Madalene knew at that moment in her heart that she loved Gabriel and would be happy as his wife, regardless of whether they ever had a family of their own.

  “The last doctor to whom I spoke reminded me of one very important fact,” said Gabriel, chuckling as he considered the absurdity of it. “My father had me, and some would say that I turned out normal.”

  Madalene laughed aloud.

  “Some would say, my Lord. Some would say. But perhaps not all.”

  She giggled then and Gabriel reached for her hands and drew her to him.

  Epilogue

  Standing in front of Vicar Fabens, Madalene and Gabriel exchanged vows, surrounded by their small but loving family. Hester stood beside her friend, holding a bouquet of flowers, while the two mothers stood arm-in-arm, heads tipped together as they watched their children start a life together. Alice was also in attendance, seated next to Mrs. Perkins.

  Alice had calmed down considerably after meeting Madalene. It seemed to Gabriel that all Alice needed was to feel secure and to know that she was safe with all of the occupants of the manor, that she need not fear being abandoned. Madalene insisted that Alice remain with them and spent hours reading to her, not only in her lovely suite but also in the garden. After some time, Alice joined them for breakfast and dinner on occasion.

  The week following the wedding, Vicar Fabens gave a poignant sermon about the evils of gossip, and the virtue of kindness, particularly to one’s neighbours. The point was not lost on Isabelle Newton and her parents, as they sat near the front of the congregation, and afterwards they congratulated the Earl and Countess on their nuptials.

  “There is still one secret that you have not shared with me, Gabriel,” said Madalene, as they strolled through the gardens after church. Madalene was still getting accustomed to calling her husband by his Christian name, but she rather liked it.

  “And what is that, my darling?” he asked, smiling down at the woman who had captured his heart, and brought hope to his future.

  “What did you learn from your visit to Miss Pennywright?”

  Madalene glanced at her husband sideways, her smile sly.

  “The astrologer?”

  “Yes, the astrologer.”

  “I’m not sure you are ready to hear that secret, my love.” His voice was serious and for a moment Madalene was concerned. But when Gabriel could not hide a smirk, she squeezed his arm to coax it out of him. “Miss Pennywright told me that she saw many healthy, happy children in my future. Do you think you can manage that, Countess?”

  “I think I can manage that just fine, my Lord.”

  The End

  Continue reading after the ‘About the Author’ section for a preview of ‘The Earl’s Desire’

  About the Author

  Catherine Windsor was born in Cambridge, England and raised in upstate New York. She enjoys reading both historical and contemporary romance and has written short stories and novellas for her own enjoyment for years. Encouraged by her teenage daughter, she now publishes her Regency romance for the enjoyment of fans of the genre

  Catherine, with her husband and daughter, lives on an acreage which is reminiscent of her native England. In addition to writing fiction, she loves to cook with fresh herbs and vegetables from her own garden.

  Other Books by Catherine Windsor

  The Duke’s Deception

  The Earl’s Desire

  Trusting the Earl

  The Duke and the Lady’s Maid

  The Duke’s Gamble

  Here is Your Preview of

  The Earl’s

  Desire

  Regency Romance

  Catherine Windsor

  Prologue

  “You can’t catch me! Not with those big feet!”

  Thirteen-year-old Isabel Wyndham ran along the path, dodging roots that stuck out from the trees as she attempted to be as surefooted as possible. Alexander’s footsteps grew louder behind her, gaining on her, and she thought, for a moment, about teasing him further. Normally, he was faster, beating her to the tree fort they had secretly fashioned, deep in the woods on his father’s property. But, today, she had managed to trick him and had gained an advantage.

  As the fort came into sight, she slowed her pace, reaching out to touch the rough bark that signalled that she was victorious. Alexander arrived mere moments later, his breath harsh to her ears.

  “You beat me.”

  He exhaled loudly and filled his lungs with a gasping breath.

  She turned to see him red faced, despite the coolness of the morning air, and she offered him a satisfied grin.

  “I did, and I will do it again tomorrow!”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth she wanted to force them back in, pain immediately filling her chest at the reality of what the following day would bring. After her entire thirteen years of having Alexander only a short walk away, he would not be there tomorrow.

  “Tis fine,” Alexander replied, leaning up against the tree with a huff. “I have been reminded all morning that I am to depart for Eton as soon as the sun rises. I should just run away tonight so that they are unable to find me in the morning.”

  “Oh, posh, Alexander,” Isabel replied, swallowing hard at the thought of her best friend not being there with her in the morning, or any morning afterward for quite some time. She and Alexander, Viscount St. John, only son of the Earl of Hertford, had been friends since the cradle. Their families’ estates bordered each other. With neither having any other siblings to play with, it seemed natural that they had forged a bond. But now, that bond was about to be broken, and Isabel could almost not bear it. Who would she spend her days with now? And Alexander? He would meet new and exciting friends at Eton, and forget all about her. She met his gaze and tried to hide the sadness that had crept in.

  “You are positively dreadful for leaving me,” she finally said, her lower lip jutting forward in a pout, while knowing that it truthfully wasn’t his fault.

  “I find no pleasure in leaving,” he admitted in a huff. “I do not wish to receive a gentleman’s education, as my father calls it. I want to learn the land, ride my horse, sail the seas, and—”

  “Spend time with me?” Isabel finished with a smile.

  Alexander grinned and nudged her lightly on the shoulder.

  “Of course, silly. Who else would I spend time with? You are the only one who I can talk to.”

  Isabel walked around the tree, noting the makeshift fort where they had played for years. Her own mother had started to discuss the need to send Isabel to finishing school so that she could learn to be a Lady and not run around in the woods with a boy. Isabel detested the thought of having to learn to dance or how to curtsey properly. She had no need for that.

  “Perhaps I shall run away as well,” she announced, coming full circle around the tree to once more stand beside Alexander who was still leaning against the tree. “I shall run away to London and become a courtesan to the royal court.”

  “That is preposterous, Isabel, and you know it,” Alexander answered with a laugh. “You would never shame your family by doing such.”

  Isabel sighed, knowing that Alexander was right. She would never do something so rash, but the thought of being able to control her own destiny was so alluring. They both wished to do different things from what their parents had laid
out for them. Why must they follow in those footsteps? Why couldn’t they do something completely unorthodox?

  “Besides,” Alexander continued, pulling a leaf from a nearby tree branch and busying his hands by tearing it into little pieces. “I have no other option but to journey to Eton and become the gentleman my father expects me to be. You will learn to be a Lady while I am away and when I return, we shall marry. You shall be my Countess.”

  “Marry?” Isabel asked, surprise in her voice. Surely, she held a great affection for Alexander, but she hadn’t thought about marriage between the two of them… until now. He was her best friend, the one person who knew her better than anyone on earth. Thus, upon her thinking of it, it did seem only natural that they marry. “Is that your desire?”

  “Of course,” he replied, pushing away from the tree and brushing his hands together, the pieces of the leaf falling to the ground. “We enjoy each other’s company and I can tolerate you longer than any boy in the village. Besides, I know all of your favorite things.”

  She pushed at him, knowing it would illicit his smirk.

  “You will be lost without me, Alexander, admit as much.”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him. Isabel squeaked as her free hand collided with his chest. She’d never been so close to him, close enough to feel his heartbeat under her fingertips. It was beating erratically and she was suddenly unsure of what to think or say.

  “I have always wanted to be a Countess,” she said. Her lips turned up at the edges in a sly smile as she curtsied and announced, “Lady Isabel, Countess of Hertford.”

  Her voice was wistful as she twirled in front of the future Earl.

  “So that is all I am to you? A title?”

  Alexander’s hurt expression had almost tricked Isabel to thinking she had truly wounded her friend, when he broke into a broad smile.

  “You are correct, Isabel. I shall be lost without you,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers. “So, you will become my wife.”

  Without warning, Alexander’s lips touched hers gently.

  Isabel’s mind barely registered that Alexander was kissing her before he pulled away, his cheeks stained red. She brought her fingers up to her lips and looked at him, her own cheeks flushing with surprise.

  “Oh,” she gasped.

  A sly grin formed over his lips and he shrugged before he turned, taking off down the path.

  “I will also beat you back!” he called as he disappeared around the bend. Isabel straightened, the feel of Alexander’s kiss still on her lips, the brief contact still tingling on her skin. She had been kissed. Her first kiss and it was from Alexander. There was no other boy that she would want to kiss her. With a soft sigh, she smiled and started down the path, intent to catch him before he reached the house.

  Continue reading at

  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01LVY4DH2/

  Regency Romance

  The Devil’s Book

  Isabella Thorne

  The Devil’s Book

  A Regency Romance Short Story

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The Devil’s Book Copyright © 2017 by Isabella Thorne and Mikita Associates

  Cover Art by Mary Lepiane

  Website: www.isabellathorne.com

  Chapter One

  Miss Ruby Barnet was not the first to rise. The girls who lit the fires were first, and then the cooks and the kitchen maids, but Ruby was early enough. She had dressed in a clean uniform, in the near dark, just as the sun was peeking through the clouds, giving her a bit of light to make out the fastenings so that she did not have to feel her way through it. She donned her apron and cap and hurried down the narrow steps to get her dusting clothes and furniture polish. Missus McTavish hated when she was late and she had been late twice last week because she was talking with Putnam in the corridor. Missus McTavish must never find out. Clarissa had been sacked for just such innocent dalliance. Ruby needed to get back in Missus McTavish’s good graces. She was lucky to have this position.

  Her employer, Mister Gerard Hobson, had made a fortune in shipping in his youth. Mister Hobson was the second son of the Earl of Bain and although his father had supposedly disowned him for his vulgar involvement in trade, when both his father and his elder brother had died unexpectedly, in a routine crossing of the channel, Mister Hobson was named the Earl, no matter his rocky relationship with his father when his father had lived. His youngest brother, who was still in their father’s good graces at the time of his death, was understandably incensed.

  The fact that the new Earl had rebuilt this fine house from money earned in shipping was a boon to the entire community; even if it was terribly improper, according to the gentry.

  It was a new world, and Gerard Hobson, or the Earl of Bain, as was his proper title now, was certainly rich. Such finery was not often found outside of the gentry and such wealth was certainly not to be scoffed at, even by the Peerage who tolerated Lord Bain at first for his money, and then because he had succeeded his father as the Earl, and finally because he had married a Baron’s daughter. Some said he bewitched her with his suave manners. Some said his life was charmed. Others said that he had killed a man, and there was a rumour that his wife’s previous suitor had met with an untimely end, but Ruby was grateful for his money and her own employment. She did not care where Lord Bain’s money came from. The money could be spent; the same as any other, and she was not one to condemn a man without proof.

  This day, Ruby had work to do. She looked outside at the gloom as she hurried downstairs. It had been raining for days, and the windows were spotted with the moisture. It was a grey day outside, but there was a promise of brightness where the clouds parted in the distance and the clouds were a vivid pink. She hoped that the showers would let up somewhat, so that she could visit with her young man, Mister Thomas Putnam, in the village tomorrow. The thought brought a smile to her lips. It was seldom that she and Putnam had the day off together, other than Sunday when they could meet after church services.

  Stolen moments were rare enough in the big house, and every time Putnam passed her in some corridor, and they took a moment to talk, Ruby prayed that they did not get caught speaking; she an unmarried woman, and he an unmarried man. It would be scandalous, and Missus McTavish would not have it. Ruby, of course, would never agree to anything as sordid as a private tryst, but it was hard to wait when she loved Putnam so.

  Ruby paused on her way to collect her dust cloths, thinking of his dark handsome looks; remembering the scent of him. She wanted to run her hands through his dark curls with abandon, but they had barely touched. They had held hands once at the village fair and she wondered what it would be like to kiss him, but such things were a long way away. On occasion, when he was in a passion, Putnam had suggested that they just run away together, and be married in Scotland. He was always in a passion, she thought with a smile. It was tempting; she wanted to be his wife.

  When the autumn air ruffled his hair, and made it so very touchable, she thought there was nothing more beautiful in all the world. The sun caught it sometimes, and she saw just a bit of ginger highlights, much like her own. She wondered if their children would have red hair. Oh, the thought!

  “Marry me, Miss Barnet. Run away with me,” he had urged, but she was more sensible than that, with him having not two shillings to scratch with.

  “And do what?” she had argued. “And live on what? Your job and mine are here at Hobson Reach. We would be penniless in the street.”

  “I would still love you,” he professed, and she scoffed.

  “You would not.”

  He had laughed then, and the sound of it was glorious. How she loved the sound of his laugh. He was so carefree and gay. She could not capture such sentiment. He
r own practical nature held her down, and kept her from soaring.

  “You worry too much,” Putnam said. His brown eyes sparkled and he laughed again for the sheer joy of living, and then he had almost kissed her, there under the stair, but Missus McTavish had interrupted them, dried up old biddy that she was. She had scolded Ruby, who swore she was only searching under the stair for clean cloths to dust with.

  Mister Putnam had left her to Missus McTavish, with a wink behind the old lady’s head, but even Putnam had to eventually agree. They could not live on kisses. It was best to wait. Their love would survive.

  Putnam was one of Lord Bain’s footmen, but he had also been taught to do accounts. Ruby had a good position at Hobson’s Reach too, moving up from the scullery to a house maid; Hobson took care of most of their needs. Between them, they had enough money to save when they were frugal. It made perfect sense when they were in a sedate and sensible mood; they would save their money. When they had enough, they dreamed together, they would marry and buy a cottage by the sea with a bit of land big enough to sustain them.

  Putnam complained that they would both be old and grey by that time, but Ruby promised she would love him still.

  She remembered the first time she saw him. She thought she had loved him from that very moment. He had come into the kitchen for a quick drink of water. He seemed so suave and debonair even though he had just spent the morning running after Lord Bain’s carriage. Putnam was tall and fit and quite the talk of the housemaids, though he paid them no mind. Ruby had just been hired at the manor. She was working in scullery back then, and was positive that the handsome footman would not give her a second look. He was so sure of himself; she was certain that some of the less virtuous housemaids had already caught his eye. He certainly would not look at her, with her hands deep in suds and her face flushed with the heat of the kitchen, she must look a wreck, but he had winked at her. She had blushed furiously, but they had not spoken.