Annabelle: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters' Series Book 2)

by Audrey Harrison

  Grace

  Chapter 1

  1819

  Four days! Four days in a carriage and four horses, and still they had not arrived at Sudworth Hall. Grace Johnson stared out the window of the coach listlessly. The coach was fine; one would expect nothing else from the Duke of Sudworth. The horses throughout each change were of the highest calibre, but she had been stuck inside the carriage for four long days. It was torture, for anyone loving the outdoors as she did, seeing greenery whip past the window as the coachman chivvied the horses along.

  Grace mulled over the fact that, for most of her life, she had been largely ignored by those who supposedly had her best interests at heart. No one had actually asked her opinion about the journey she was now utterly sick of; hence she was travelling across country, albeit in style, thanks to the Duke and Duchess of Sudworth sending one of their new carriages for her transportation. The carriages had actually been provided by her father as he handed over a huge dowry when her sister, Rosalind, married the Duke of Sudworth. The crest blazoned across the carriage doors ensured they received the finest service at each stop, but a carriage-full of crests could not make a tedious journey quicker.

  Her head rested on the deep, plush, blue material of the cushioned insides. She sighed softly; she was not alone in the carriage, and there was no point in her sighs drawing the attention of her maid. She should be happier; she knew that, which made her current mood even more perverse. Her eldest sister was now happily married and increasing, although the letters she had sent at the start of her marriage expressed the difficulties the husband and wife had suffered before reaching their present happiness. Grace was excited about soon having a niece or nephew to make a fuss of, but there was something else affecting her usually buoyant mood she could not shake off.

  She was one of four sisters, the second youngest, and very often the one overlooked. She usually preferred it that way; if she was forgotten about she could do as she pleased without too many questions being asked. Her eldest sister, Rosalind, at only five and twenty, had been more than a sister; she had been forced to be substitute mother as well as older sibling. Their mother cared for fashion and very little else, so Rosalind had stepped in and cared for her younger sisters. Grace loved Rosalind for it. It was a sacrifice Rosalind had seemed willing to make, but other families would not have allowed a young girl to take on such a role. As well as being neglected by their parents, Grace had sometimes felt that everything else had seemed out of sync somehow, but during those times Rosalind understood what her younger sister needed in order to feel better.

  Annabelle, at two and twenty the next oldest to Rosalind, had gone to stay with Rosalind a few months ago and, as a result of the visit, she had made a good match with a peer—Lord Stannage, Earl of Garston. Grace was slightly curious about Annabelle’s marriage; her letters were more formal than Rosalind’s had been. Annabelle spent more time talking about the scenery of her wedding trip than her husband. Grace wondered what sort of a marriage it was; Annabelle was usually such an extroverted person it was unusual to receive correspondence that was so reticent.

  Mr Johnson was happy two of his daughters had titles. None of them could ignore that their father had some strange ideas. He was a highly successful businessman, going from almost nothing to one of the richest men in their social circle. The family had moved a great deal; each time more money came in, he bought a bigger house. He spoiled his girls with dresses, jewellery and any frippery their hearts desired. With material things they were spoiled, but each daughter would have willingly swapped some of the finery for more attention from either parent.

  Mr Johnson had decided years ago he wanted his daughters to marry some of the highest titles in the country. He provided them with obscenely large dowries to ensure his idea worked. His plan to buy what he thought they deserved was coming to fruition easier than he had anticipated. One daughter married a Duke, another now married to an Earl. As with all of his ideas though, he had changed his mind some months ago. He had always regretted not having a son to hand the business over to when he was too old to work. The problem niggled at him, but soon after Rosalind married her Duke, a gentleman who had been previously unknown to the sisters had been introduced by their father. Only Annabelle and Grace had been in residence at the time, so they were the first to realise the implications of the stranger who had been inserted into their midst.

  Their father had announced to Mr Wadeson, while his daughters stood before him, and stated that the man could have the choice of whichever daughter he wished as a bride. Mr Johnson would then have the pleasure of knowing his business was still within the family. Neither daughter had been told of the scheme before being introduced to Mr Wadeson. The gentleman in question had looked at the two young women standing before him and announced he would defer making a decision until he met the youngest sister Eleanor.

  Annabelle had been particularly horrified at her father’s words, disliking the gentleman on sight. “Grace, I never thought that I would willingly seek out a title, but Father has just given me the motivation to do so,” she said, flopping down on the sofa when their father left the room.

  “I didn’t expect such a change in sentiments from him,” Grace acknowledged. “I can’t say I relished having a title, but that was so embarrassing.”

  “I suppose it shows just how much he wants to keep the business in the family, but I’m having no part of it!” Annabelle was the feisty one of the four girls, more inclined to argue against something she strongly disagreed with.

  “So, it is down to me to marry him?” Grace asked teasingly.

  “Good grief, no!” Annabelle responded forcefully. “You will have to set your mind to the task of finding a husband the moment you visit Rosalind; that’s all.”

  “That’s all,” Grace mumbled. She would much rather be left alone to spend time in the garden, but Annabelle would never have understood that.

  Both sisters might have been able to joke about the situation they were faced with, but the reality was they were unanimous in wishing for a love match rather than the arranged marriage Rosalind had had to endure.

  So Grace was now in the process of travelling half way across country to join her eldest sister. She was to stay at Sudworth Hall and be introduced to the local society before going to London when Rosalind was once more able to travel after the baby was delivered. It was the thought of socialising and going to London that made Grace sigh; the idea filled her with dread.

  She was looking forward to seeing Rosalind again and Annabelle when she returned from her wedding trip. She loved her two elder sisters; they were beautiful, funny and kind. The locality they now resided in had not been unanimous in welcoming the sisters to the area; after all they came from a ‘cit’, a man in trade. Her father, in his quest to obtain titles for his daughters, had not considered the animosity shown by some of the ton who did not welcome those who came from outside their tight circle.

  With regards to Rosalind and Annabelle, at least, their dowries had helped to overcome any obstacles their backgrounds might have created with the gentlemen they married. Although, to be fair to the gentlemen in question, only one had desperately needed money; the other had been found in a compromising situation with her sister. Now it seemed it was her turn to find a husband, hopefully without the compromising aspect.

  The sigh threatened again; she just wanted to be left alone to live her life how she wanted not how her father wanted. Although in that she was no different than her sisters. None had understood the need to marry out of their social sphere, but they had had little choice in the matter. If anyone had asked her, she would have been clear and to the point: she wanted to be independent, to grow her flowers and potter in her garden. The idea of marrying either a man with a title or Mr Wadeson filled her with absolute dread, something she was sure no one else realised.

  The only time she ever felt at peace with the world was when she was cultivating something from seed. She never failed to experience the rush
of wonder that occurred every time the green shoot of a seedling peeped through the soil at the start of its life.

  Rosalind understood her passion to some extent: she had encouraged Grace to grow plants in a small hothouse that had been built in their garden. The problem with city living was the gardens were relatively small, so Grace had been limited in what she could do. The garden had to provide space that her mother could take the air in on the few times she ventured outside. She was more likely to be parading in the parks close to their home in order to keep abreast as to what everyone was wearing but was unwilling to allow all the garden to be converted into a working area for her daughter.

  Grace had poured over books day and night to compensate for not having a large garden. She read about plant varieties and what were the best possible growing conditions. She made copious notes, which she hoped someday would be used in a garden of her own.

  No one actually asked her opinion on marriage; she did not live in the type of family where the thoughts and feelings of the children mattered. Her father was determined his money would be used in the best way possible: obtaining a husband, but it did not necessarily bode well for the chances of a happy marriage. Rosalind had been forced to marry a man she had met only once. The other sisters had been horrified about what had happened, but somehow Rosalind had managed to find a love match after all.

  Her letters were full of her husband and his attributes. She had also been honest about the struggles they had faced; in fact that they were still going through. A woman had arrived on their doorstep declaring she had been married to the previous Duke and had a son by him. If it were proved to be correct, Rosalind would lose the title of Duchess and lose her position in society. She, along with her husband would revert back to his title before he had inherited the Duchy of Sudworth. Grace had tried to use the unfortunate events as an excuse as to why she should not visit at this time but, when her father had started discussing the merits of Mr Wadeson and suggesting she would benefit from becoming more acquainted with him, she decided a visit to Rosalind was in order after all.

  She was actually the last daughter at home. Eleanor was staying with a school friend whom she had met at the finishing school all the girls had attended. Lady Lydia Moore was visiting Bath with her parents and needed company, so she had invited Eleanor along for the trip. Mr Wadeson appeared content to meet Eleanor at the end of her trip, which allowed Rosalind to send for Grace to visit in the meantime. So here Grace was, trundling across country with her maid under no doubt about what waited for her at home if Eleanor did not tempt Mr Wadeson and, in the meantime, she did not marry a titled gentleman.

  Grace gazed unseeingly out of the window. She had no idea how she was going to achieve her father’s wish; she had no idea how to speak to men, let alone titled gentlemen. Added to the fact that a connection to a ‘cit’ was looked down upon, it all just seemed like a little too much for her. She enjoyed peace and solitude, but instead needed charm and sophistication, something she had failed to learn while digging in soil.

  She had always been the quietest of the four girls. Rosalind was the practical one, the mother to them all. Annabelle had been the feisty one, always up to mischief; Eleanor was the most intelligent of the four. She would say it was because they were all prettier than she was so she had to work harder than they did, but her sisters would all refute the fact that she was not pretty. Grace was the shy one, the one who was happiest alone tending her garden.

  When Rosalind left on the day of her marriage, the remaining sisters felt her loss. Rosalind had offered guidance and encouragement and been the buffer between the girls and two selfish parents. Without her the others had floundered. Grace had particularly missed Rosalind in the evenings. Rosalind would often brush out Grace’s hair while they talked. They would chat about the garden and plants usually; it would be the only time Grace was happily the centre of attention. Rosalind seemed to think the time alone with her quiet sister was important.

  Very often Rosalind would compliment Grace; she loved the feel of her sister’s hair. It was a rich auburn colour; Rosalind would complain that hers was just black, whereas Grace’s reflected the light beautifully.

  “I think it is the reason you spend so much time out of doors,” Rosalind would tease. “The sun reflecting on all the different shades definitely shows it to its best effect.”

  Grace would laugh in response, flushing at the compliment and shaking her head at her sister. “I would not spend so much time on my knees if that were the case!”

  Rosalind would kiss the top of Grace’s head, “That’s so, when you look up, we see your beautiful features to their best effect, especially your gorgeous green eyes.”

  Grace never saw what Rosalind professed to see, but she appreciated Rosalind for saying it. It was nice to feel loved knowing your faults were accepted as part of that love. The one good thing out of her current upheaval was that she would be with Rosalind again. Even Annabelle had really missed their elder sister. Usually the one to cause chaos in the house, Annabelle had ceased when Rosalind left. She had complained there was no longer any point with Rosalind away.

  It was true in many respects; unless Annabelle had involved her mother’s huge stock of dresses in some way, their mother would not have noticed or cared what Annabelle was doing. Their father was constantly working, either at home or away at his offices; the only conversations he wanted were around what title they should accept or the positives a match with Mr Wadeson would bring.

  The thought of marrying terrified Grace. She was one and twenty, of the age that really should have seen a wedding already, or at least an engagement. The reality was, though, she avoided contact with men as much as she could. She attended Assemblies, and she did enjoy dancing; but that was very different than forming an attachment with someone. Grace was untouched by love. It was hard for her to deal with her father’s obsession with marrying either a title or his protégé. Did she want to feel love? She supposed so, but she was not convinced it would ever happen to her. She was not in the position Rosalind had been in being forced into a marriage, not yet anyway. If she were eventually forced to marry Mr Wadeson, at least she knew him; although in her opinion, that was not much of an advantage. Before Annabelle left on her own journey to visit Rosalind, she made Grace promise she would not be alone with Mr Wadeson or spend any time with him even in company if she could avoid it. It was a peculiar request from Annabelle, but Grace had agreed to it. She had no desire to seek out the stranger in their midst. In reality, the problem was Grace could never imagine finding someone who would be content to have his wife constantly in the garden, and she could never settle for anyone who could not accept her ways.

  Chapter 2

  Rosalind came rushing down the steps of Sudworth Hall, almost before the footman had opened the carriage door and let down the steps. The footman quickly side-stepped away from the carriage, allowing the Duchess to greet her sister.

  “Oh Grace, I am so happy to see you!” Rosalind exclaimed, wrapping her sister in an embrace. “It may have been only a few months, but I have missed you so much!”

  Grace laughed, “And I have missed you,” she said, returning the embrace. “I am also glad to say goodbye to the carriage. It’s a long journey.”

  “Yes, it’s a tedious trek isn’t it?” Rosalind said, leading her sister into the hallway. “Annie is waiting for us in the morning room; she’s very excited about meeting you.”

  Rosalind had written about her husband’s sister before Grace’s departure. She wanted Grace to be fully aware of Annie’s differences, not wanting anyone to unintentionally upset the girl. Although Annie was two and twenty, she had characteristics that were different than others. She had been born with an unusual appearance and was more childlike for her age. She also struggled with uncertain situations or too many strangers. Rosalind had taken Annie under her wing as was usual for such a maternal person, and she was keen that her sisters loved Annie as she did.

  Annie was standi
ng near her companion, having heard Rosalind rushing out of the entrance door. Her breathing was slightly laboured and her eyes wider than normal as she looked uncertainly at Grace. Rosalind had spoken about Grace often to Annie, but the first meeting would always be a trial for someone who disliked new situations. “Annie, please let me introduce you to my sister, Grace,” Rosalind said, with a smile.

  “Annie, I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Grace said, curtseying.

  “You don’t look like Rosalind or Annabelle,” Annie said with a frown, looking at Grace for a long moment, while she studied the person before her.

  Grace laughed, “No, they are the beauties of the family; I’m afraid I’m nowhere near as pretty.”

  “You are pretty, just in a different way than them,” Annie replied, before moving towards Grace and giving her usual greeting to anyone she decided she liked, which was to throw her arms around them in an all-encompassing embrace.

  Rosalind smiled at Annie; she always spoke the truth as she saw it, and once again she was correct. Grace was pretty; her features were more delicate than either of her older sisters, but she smaller in build was as well. Her auburn waves, green eyes and pale translucent skin always reminded Rosalind of mythical tales of other-world creatures. The fact that her sister loved the outdoors only added to her suspicion that her parents must have found her under a bush, having been left by accident by some careless pixie.

  After Annie had released Grace and she had been introduced to Annie’s companion, Mrs Fisher, they sat to have some refreshments. Annie chatted to Grace about what had happened since Rosalind arrived.

  “If Roberto is the true Duke, we are going to move,” Annie said happily. “I am to have my own house with Mrs Fisher, and I can have whatever furniture I wish.”