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

  “King James would surely have been killed,” said Beatrice. She moved her face closer to Nathaniel’s, staring intently into his eyes. “That man surely saved King James’s life.”

  Nathaniel paused momentarily, focusing on her eyes.

  “And you have saved mine, my dear lady, in ways you cannot possibly comprehend.”

  It was one of those moments where the tension between them was nearly unbearable, where they seemed in imminent danger of collapsing into each other’s arms. Had it not been for Wilson’s presence that surely would have happened.

  ~~~~~

  The rest of their friends and relations had noticed the unspoken tension between Nathaniel and Beatrice, and were beginning to wonder aloud when they would become officially engaged.

  “You’d have to be an idiot not to see the way that she looks at you sometimes,” said Wilson during one of their trips back from East Acton. “You’ve become the centre of her world, and she of yours. It’s a joy to see two people who delight so much in each other, and yet the relationship moves along at a glacial pace. Neither of you seems keen to express your true feelings to the other.”

  “I suppose I must have thought she was just being friendly,” said Nathaniel.

  “No one who was just ‘being friendly’ would look at you the way she does,” replied Wilson, “or tease you the way she does — or insist on your staying at the house long after you had planned to leave — like she does. If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what love looks like.”

  Nathaniel considered this for a moment in silence. Although his affection for Beatrice was rapidly blossoming into love, he had somehow missed all of the hints, as described by Wilson, that she reciprocated his feelings. Not knowing whether she fancied him or not, he had intended to keep the relationship in its current state of ambiguity indefinitely. But if what Wilson and his parents and his other friends were saying was true...

  ~~~~~

  Two weeks after their first meeting, Slade returned to Nathaniel with one hundred and fifty pounds in cash, citing a fifty percent profit in his investment in that short period of time. This excited Nathaniel, who expressed a wish to invest again.

  “If you truly wish to invest,” Slade said, wiping his eyes, “I could accommodate a minimum of 10,000 pounds and up to a maximum of 25,000 pounds.”

  Nathaniel fell back as if struck by a blow to the chest. This was nearly the current net worth of the estate.

  “Let me discuss the matter with my friends and family,” he said, “and I will get back to you shortly.”

  “This has an excellent investment potential, Salborne. Between you and I, I expect this to double my own investment in two months’ time.” Slade stroked his moustache, then added, “I must tell you, however, that there is a short window of opportunity, for commitments are about to be made, and contracts must be signed. Don’t wait too long if you’re truly serious. You’ll miss out.”

  Although taken aback by the sheer amount of the financial commitment, Nathaniel was nevertheless sold on the prospect. But, to his own disappointment, no one else seemed as interested in this plan as Nathaniel himself was. Wilson told him in the plainest matter that he felt there was some tomfoolery involved.

  “I don’t pretend to be an expert on business matters,” he said, “but I know in my heart there’s something not right about this.”

  “But the investment was recommended by no less an authority than Benjamin Franklin,” Nathaniel pointed out.

  Wilson grimaced uncertainly.

  “Like I said, I’m no expert, but I’m not sure that it’s wise to make life-altering financial decisions based on the advice of a dead American.”

  Rationally Nathaniel was forced to admit that his friend had a point. Yet he had felt so sure that he was called to this, that this was the investment of which the prophecy had spoken, and it seemed that heaven itself had ordained great things for him.

  His father did not prove to be of any help. He was suffering through one of his bad spells and suggested that Nathaniel use the money to buy a castle in Spain. However, Nathaniel came away from their meeting with a new plan, which he discussed with his mother the next morning, over a breakfast of hot kidney pudding and yams.

  “Here’s what I propose,” he said. “I think that the investment is a sound one, and we would be able to make it without difficulty if we arranged to have Papa declared incompetent to manage the estate. Then the rights to managing his affairs would be handed over to me — a bit like having a Regent acting in a king’s stead.”

  The Duchess brooded uncertainly over a steaming cup of chestnut tea.

  “I do think I would prefer having someone else handling his affairs, especially given the way that his mind has been receding lately. And yet…”

  She paused, as if not wanting to say what she clearly wanted to say.

  “And yet what?” Nathaniel prompted.

  “And yet if someone else is going to be managing the estate, I am not sure it should be you,” she said with a pained look.

  It was one of the most hurtful things she could have said, and Nathaniel averted his eyes with a feeling of deep disappointment.

  “You know that I shall inherit the estate someday?” he asked, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

  “I do, and I am certain that, when the time comes, you will manage it well. However, that day is not today. And it may be some time before you are ready.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I simply think that you are prone to making hasty decisions — decisions that require more wisdom and common sense than you currently possess.”

  “And how, pray tell, do you suggest I achieve that level of acumen — shall I return to school?”

  “Nothing so earth-shattering,” said his mother with a slight smile. “I believe that marrying the right woman would be a significant step in the right direction. You would have a companion with whom you could confer at all times.”

  “And where do you think I would find such a paragon of women?”

  “I think you already know. I am referring to Lady Beatrice Stewart.”

  “What — you, too?” Nathaniel replied, remembering the lecture he had recently received from Wilson.

  “I merely suggest that Lady Beatrice would make a fine match, and for several reasons.”

  “But...”

  “Please allow me to finish.” Nathaniel folded his arms as his mother continued. “She is clever, she is kind, and she is quick thinking. Do you remember when I walked out of the room in distress during ‘The Franklin incident’?”

  Nathaniel nodded, dreading what he might hear next.

  “I was beside myself. Yet, moments later, Lady Beatrice found me and bade me sit down and relax. She placed her hand on my arm in a soothing fashion to calm me.”

  She noticed Nathaniel’s restlessness and continued before he could interrupt. “Further, she reached into her reticule and drew out a bit of valerian root, from which she had Alice brew a drink. At first I wondered how I would ever calm down after the upset of the incident. Yet after consuming the drink I soon fell asleep in my chair!”

  “Yes, she is clever. I must admit that. Wilson claims she plays the pianoforte with great skill as well.”

  “There is more. As the daughter of the Earl of Blakely, her marriage would bring a significant dowry, which would be quite welcome at this time. She is also very lovely,” his mother continued pointedly, “and any man would find himself fortunate to call her his wife.” She paused before saying, “You are most definitely in love with her, are you not?”

  His mother’s latest remark caught Nathaniel unaware. After a few moments, he was taken aback by his own honest answer.

  “I have tried to prevent myself from being so, but it seems that I have failed miserably.” Nathaniel stared dreamily through the sitting-room window. “I love the music that is her voice. The time I spend with her evaporates in an instant, yet not being with her is an eternity.” He paused, then looked
directly into his mother’s eyes. “Yes, I do love her. Most assuredly so.”

  “Then you should tell her, posthaste.”

  Nathaniel immediately sat down and penned a note to Beatrice, requesting a visit to Hadleigh House the very next morning.

  ~~~~~

  Nathaniel arrived at Kensal Green at ten o’clock the next morning and was invited into the parlour where Beatrice and Margaret, her lady’s maid, awaited him.

  After ordering tea and scones, all sat down.

  “Well, Lord Salborne, what has been occupying your time, since we were last together?”

  With all his heart, he had wanted to tell her how he had fallen in love with her, and that he desired that she would become his wife. To that end, he had even prepared and memorized a speech along those lines. However, when asked the question about his recent activities, he became distracted, and he drifted into other recent topics. It was at that point that he inadvertently mentioned the offer he had been made by Slade.

  Beatrice jumped to her feet.

  “Twenty-five thousand pounds?” she responded, incredulous after the details of the potential business arrangement had been explained to her. “To invest in a company which you literally know nothing about? Can you really be serious?”

  “I’ve never been more serious in my life,” said Nathaniel a bit defensively. “I think that this opportunity has the potential to make such gains that the Warbleton estate can be restored to financial stability.”

  “Or it could break it.” Beatrice sighed and turned to gaze out the frost-rimmed window. Then, turning her eyes back to Nathaniel, she said, “If this investment fails it could be the ruin of you and your whole family. You would be driven into debt. You could lose your estate, and there would certainly be no hope of you ever getting married!”

  There was real fear in her voice as she spoke these last words. She sat down in the padded armchair by the fire and struggled to catch her breath.

  “But heaven itself has endorsed this arrangement,” said Nathaniel in a tone of desperation.

  “Do you really think that Benjamin Franklin went to heaven?” Beatrice replied.

  Nathaniel had never paused to consider whether he had or not. Now that she raised the question, he fell silent for a moment as he pondered.

  “I’ll tell you what I really and truly think,” said Beatrice. “And I hope that my words may mean as much to you as those of a famous man’s spirit. I think that this is the worst idea that I have ever heard, and I think that your hunger to see it prosper has distorted your thinking. You risk throwing away everything that your father — and your forefathers for generations before him — have amassed over lifetimes, for a business deal which, for all you know, could be corrupt and illegal.”

  “But Slade is a man of good character. We have known each other since childhood, and he would certainly never steer me in the wrong direction.”

  “Don’t be too certain,” she replied. “I admit that I have never met this man, but everything you tell me about him leads me to suspect that I would be better off not knowing him. Can it really be legal — or even moral — to purchase silk and then sell it at such exorbitant prices?”

  “I have seen his offices and the superb quality of the product he deals in. Should not those who can afford such quality have the opportunity to purchase it? Is that somehow immoral?”

  “Has the material even been imported legally, or has it been smuggled in? I get the impression that he does not seem to care whether it is or not.”

  Nathaniel had no immediate answer. Beatrice stared at Nathaniel as she weighed what she had learned.

  “Well, my senses tell me that he’s a swindler and a cheat, and that he has clouded your judgement. I don’t know what his end will be, but I fear that it will be ruinous. And the longer you stay with him the more you risk reaching the same destination.”

  With that said, a chilly silence fell between them. She knew that she had risked ruining her relationship with Nathaniel by speaking her mind in this manner, but to keep silent would have been even worse.

  Reaching for her reticule, she rose to her feet and motioned to her maid.

  “I suddenly realise that I have a painful headache, and I must excuse myself. I’m sorry that our visit had to end like this.” She turned to her maid. “Margaret, please show Lord Salborne to the door.”

  “At least take his card,” said Nathaniel in a pleading tone. He approached her and handed her Slade’s business card, which she took in her hands like a diseased thing. “If you or Lord Blakely inquire, I’m certain that you will discover the truth about this business.”

  “Oh, we will certainly look into it,” Beatrice replied, then she turned on her heel and swept out of the room.

  Chapter Eight

  When Beatrice began to calm down, a clear plan of action came to her mind. As Lord and Lady Blakely were travelling and would be in Spain for at least the next fortnight, Beatrice determined that she did not want to wait for their return, and that she and her brother would execute the plan.

  She sat down at her desk and composed a letter to Slade. She wrote it as if from Wilson, reasoning that it would have more credibility.

  Dear Mr. Slade,

  My sister and I have been hearing glowing reports about your business enterprise, J.W. Hunt, Silk Merchants. In addition to the fine silk products you offer, we have learnt that there is a possibility of investing in the business on a short-term basis.

  We are interested in the possibility of making a significant investment in J.W. Hunt, if all details work to everyone’s satisfaction. Should that investment be fruitful, there is a further possibility that our father, the Earl of Blakely, might be interested in an even more substantial investment.

  If this is of interest to you, then my sister and I could meet with you at Hadleigh House at some point in the next week to discuss it further.

  Troutbrook

  She explained the plan to her brother, who immediately agreed and signed the document.

  He then sent the message to Slade’s office, expecting to receive a response within a day or two.

  So it came as a surprise when Slade unexpectedly arrived at the house with his hat in his hands that same afternoon. Beatrice was startled when the footman answered the door, and announced Mr Slade.

  “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Mr. Conolly Slade. I’m here to see about a possible investment in my company,” he said with a low bow. “I would like to speak with Lord Troutbrook if I may.”

  “Yes,” said Beatrice. “I am his sister, Lady Beatrice Stewart.” She turned and threw a significant look at Wilson, who had only minutes before returned from a ride in the park and was standing in the sitting-room, warming himself in front of the fire.

  Slade didn’t appear to notice the exchange of looks that transpired between them. Beatrice turned back to face him with a radiant smile.

  “Won’t you take a seat, Mr. Slade?”

  She introduced Wilson and then called for her maid.

  “Margaret, a pot of coffee please. And bring some biscuits as well.”

  Within the next few minutes, pleasantries were discussed, a serving tray with the coffee arrived, the servant was dismissed, and the door closed behind her. Slade was seated in an armchair in the sitting-room while Beatrice and Wilson sat facing him on a velvet chaise lounge.

  “Do you take cream in your coffee, Mr. Slade?” Beatrice asked, as she poured his cup.

  “Why yes, I do, Lady Beatrice.”

  “And how about you?” she asked, nodding to her brother.

  As Slade turned to look at Wilson, Beatrice surreptitiously added to Slade’s drink a measure of powder from a bottle taken from her reticule.

  “No, thank you,” said Wilson, as he watched his sister return the bottle, then add cream to Slade’s cup and stir it thoroughly.

  “What I’m about to say must be kept strictly between us, Mr. Slade,” said Beatrice. She handed him the cup, leaning forward a
nd flashing him a vulnerable look. “My brother and I have been discussing making an investment on the order of five thousand pounds.”

  Slade choked on his coffee, then pulled a silk handkerchief from his vest pocked and wiped his eyes.

  “I see.” He plucked his moustache several times.

  “Our parents and closest friends have all advised us against an initial investment of this magnitude. In fact, when I revealed this to Lord Salborne we had a bitter row which led us to end our relationship.”

  Everyone in the area, including Slade, was aware of the budding relationship between Beatrice and Nathaniel. The news that the pair had separated acted as a tonic on Slade. A strange light came into his eyes and he smacked his lips in a lascivious manner.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said, unconvincingly.

  “It’s no great loss,” she said with a shrug, her eyes never leaving his. “Not if I can find someone more amenable to my... business interests.”

  Slade giggled weakly like a man who was drunk on sherry.

  Beatrice, sensing her advantage, continued to feign attraction toward him throughout the interview that followed. Staring deep into his eyes, almost but not quite brushing her hand against his as she refilled his cup, addressing him in a soothing and confidential tone as if they were the only two people in the room — or the world, for that matter.

  Slade talked enthusiastically of his business and the quality of material and the clients which it attracted. Within a few minutes, however, Slade began to speak more slowly, slightly slurring his words, his eyes not seeming to focus properly. It was at that point that his tongue began to loosen. Inebriated not only with an unknown substance, but with a sense of his own cleverness and superiority, he began to divulge his innermost thoughts.

  “Ever since I was a child,” he explained in a slurred voice, “I’ve never much cared for Nathaniel Talbot or his high-and-mighty family. It wasn’t just the fact that he had more money, although that was certainly part of it. Everyone loved him more, everyone respected him more, everyone was eager to sing his praises.”