Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters
Samantha Holt
Copyright © 2018 by Samantha Holt
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
www.samanthaholtromance.com
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
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
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Lulworth, Dorset 1817
“I always thought you far too logical to believe in curses.” Arabella leaned over to snatch up a slice of shortbread, popped it into her mouth, then declared, “I am giving up all things sweet, I swear. They are going straight to my hips.”
Merry shook her head with a smile. Arabella had been saying that for the past decade, since she realized she had hips. The curvy figure of her friend had them all quite envious and Merry recalled the time they had all stuffed themselves for at least a week to try to emulate Arabella’s hips and breasts. Merry had finally grown into her body only a few years ago but she never garnered any attention from menfolk—unlike Arabella.
“Why have I never heard of this curse?” Sophia asked, drifting over from the bookcase and coming to sit on the chaise longue opposite Merry.
Merry eyed her two friends. Sophia was the opposite of Arabella, despite being her older sister. Short and delicate, her dark hair contrasted with Arabella’s honey tones and her features were stronger.
“Because it is nonsense,” Merry answered, lifting her chin.
Sophia frowned at her. “And yet, you still fear for Daniel’s marriage?”
Merry sighed. It sounded ridiculous. Even she questioned herself whenever the thought popped into her mind—what if all the terrible marriages in her family were due to the family curse?
“I just wish to give Daniel and Isabel a little space.”
Arabella shook her head. “By moving into the old dower house?” She wrinkled her nose. “No one has set foot in it for a good twenty years.”
“I know.” Merry traced the lace edging of her sleeve with one finger. “If not longer. But I cannot stay here while my brother and his new wife try to adjust to married life. Father is never around, and it shall just be me.” She looked up at her friends. “Can you imagine it? Me sitting at the large dining table whilst they are looking lovingly at each other? I should rather take up residence in the dower house than be the awkward relative no one wants around.”
“I very much doubt your brother would not want you around,” Sophia said. “He loves you dearly. Besides, what does your father have to say about you moving into the dower house? He cannot like the idea, surely?”
Merry shrugged. “He does not care either way. You know what he is like.”
Her friends nodded sadly.
“What is this so-called curse anyway?” demanded Sophia.
Merry grimaced. She didn’t believe in curses, really she did not. But the story of the family curse had plagued their family for hundreds of years. She drew in a breath. “Apparently in the 16th Century, one of my ancestors seduced a gypsy. When he left her to marry a noblewoman, the gypsy cursed him and his family.”
“And?” Sophia pressed, a piece of shortbread lifted to her mouth.
“Our family and all our ancestors would never have a happy marriage,” Merry said simply.
“Goodness.” Sophia took a bite of shortbread and spoke through the mouthful. “So there was no way of lifting the curse?”
Merry sent her a look. “There is no curse.”
Sophie leaned forward. “But if there were, is there any way of lifting it?”
Shaking her head, Merry lifted the teapot and poured another cup of tea, dropping in two sugars and adding a dash of milk. All the while she could feel Sophia’s gaze on her. She met her friend’s eager gaze. “There is really no curse, Sophia.”
“So why do you feel the need to give Daniel and Isabel the best chance?” Arabella asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“It’s only fair.” Merry took a sip of tea and savored the sweet warmth. She should have never mentioned the curse. It was ridiculous. Curses were not real and even if they were, it was only a silly story, probably made up hundreds of years ago and passed down by each generation since. “But, you must admit, our family does not have a reputation for making the best matches.”
“So the curse is real,” Sophia said, awe tinging her voice.
“Of course it isn’t,” Merry snapped. “Unfortunately, us Bradfords just seem to make terrible husbands and wives. Remember my Aunt May. She got...” Merry lowered her voice and glanced around, “divorced.”
Sophia put a hand to her mouth. “Goodness. And everyone else’s marriages?”
“There isn’t a single happy one between them. My cousin Geoffrey does not even see his wife. He spends his time in Scotland while she lives in Europe for the most part. And my cousins’ parents are no better.” She lifted her hands. “For some reason, we are all terrible at marriage.”
“Well, I am certain Daniel will be different,” Sophia declared. “He’s a fine man and will treat Isabel beautifully.”
Merry could not disagree there. It had been clear since his engagement to her that he adored her endlessly and they made a wonderful couple. However, that niggling thought would not leave her. She could not bear it if her brother ended up miserable in his marriage.
So, it was best she move out of the main house and into the dower house that had not been used since her great-grandma’s time. She had yet to even step foot in the place, so goodness knows what state it was in.
“Anyway, once Daniel sends word he is on his way home from his honeymoon, I shall make preparations to move into the house.” Merry glanced at the bookcase behind Sophia. She didn’t think there would be too much to do, just a little dusting and moving around of furniture, but she would need to take her books.
“Will you not get lonely, Merry?” Arabella took another slice of shortbread, eyeing it with annoyance before taking a bite.
“Why would I? Are you all going to abandon me as soon as I move in?” Merry teased.
“It does seem like a bit of a spinster aunt thing to do,” Sophia said cautiously.
“Well, I am not yet an aunt, but truthfully, I am looking forward to the solitude. I can work on my translation in peace then.” Merry gave her friends a reassuring smile.
In many ways, Daniel marrying had given her the perfect excuse to leave the big house. Even though most of the time it was just her and Daniel, the house was a constant bustle of people. If tenants were not visiting, then servants were sweeping through or friends were visiting her brother. She needed complete solitude
to concentrate on her translation, and the dower house would provide that.
“People are going to think you are awfully strange,” Arabella cautioned.
“Do people not already think I am strange? Do they not think that of all of us?” Merry asked.
Sophia nodded, and Arabella gave a defeated shrug. Since their younger years, they had all been known as wallflowers. Their friendship group had formed out of necessity when it had become apparent that all of them were terrible at the things which young ladies should be excellent—none of them were particularly refined or accomplished in the traditional manner, and they all loathed balls and polite conversation.
Merry was no stranger to gossip, having overheard many a conversation about what a shame it was that the daughter of the viscount was not prettier or more sociable or more inclined to dancing with eligible gentleman. Her propensity for tucking herself away with books had never been looked upon favorably by others.
“I—”
The door to the drawing room burst open. A flurry of skirts and red hair paused in front of them. The footman barreled in after her, looking disconcerted. “Uh, Miss Arabella Ryder to see you, my lady.”
“Thank you, Hughes.” Merry dismissed the footman and eyed her friend who was currently bent double, sucking in breaths of air.
Though she shared the same name as Arabella, this Arabella could not be more different. While the seated Arabella tended to act with caution, Merry doubted this Arabella had ever acted with caution in her entire life. When they had all first met, she and Sophia used to tease the Arabellas, calling them one and two but had tired of that quickly, so now Arabella Two was known as Bella.
Bella sucked in a breath. “Have you heard the news?” She straightened. “Goodness, I sprinted all the way here and nearly knocked into Mr. Gainsborough and tripped over a sheep.”
Sophia giggled. “Poor sheep.”
Bella shot her a glare. “Poor me, I nearly died trying to jump over him.”
“Sit down, Bella,” Arabella ordered. “You look as though you are going to pass out any moment.”
Bella pressed a hand to her stomach and drew in another long breath. “Have you heard the news?”
Merry glanced at her friend’s blank faces and shook her head. “What news?”
“Miss Lucy Gable...oh poor Lucy...was discovered.” Bella hissed the last word.
“Discovered how?” Sophia asked.
“With a man.” Bella finally slumped down on the chaise next to Sophia. “Completely and utterly ruined. Her family sent her away to Ireland. We shall never see her again.”
Merry winced and swung a look at Arabella. Her cheeks had already paled and Merry noticed the cup shook slightly in her hand. If anyone understood ruination, it was Arabella. A few years ago, she had been promised marriage by an eligible man, but he had run off to America after taking her innocence. Fortunately for Arabella, few people knew what had happened, so she never had to hide in Ireland, but Merry knew Arabella still nursed heartbreak over it, and Merry suspected she had always secretly hoped the man would return for her one day.
“Poor Lucy,” murmured Arabella.
Silence fell over the room as they contemplated their friend’s fate. Merry had known Lucy since they were little girls. She had come from a respectable family and Lucy was sweet and funny. Had she remained untouched, she would have likely married well. Merry curled her fists. How dare one man ruin it all for her? It was so unfair. She peered at each of her friends and she had no doubt they were thinking similarly.
“What is it with these men?” The words tumbled from Merry’s mouth.
Their heads snapped up, mouths dropping open at her sudden declaration.
“You know what I mean.” Merry stood. “Your late husband was an absolute beast,” she said to Sophia who shrugged and nodded. “You were treated abominably, Arabella.” She turned to Bella. “And we all know your brothers and father are vile to you. Not one of us has had a good experience with men.”
“I cannot deny that,” Sophia agreed.
Merry huffed. “I would quite happily never set eyes on another man and I swear I shall never marry. Never, ever.”
“Hear, hear.” Bella lifted her cup and giggled.
“I say we make a vow,” Merry declared.
Arabella lifted a brow. “A vow?”
“Yes, a vow. We swear to remain spinsters for all our lives. Instead of worrying about men, we shall occupy ourselves with our hobbies, our friends, and our families.” She paused and glanced at Bella. “That is, if we wish,” she added. Bella’s five brothers tormented her to no end and were notoriously awful people. No doubt she would not wish to devote any more time to them than she had to. Sophia had married young to escape them, but her marriage had been no better.
“I have no desire to marry again anyway. One arranged match is enough for me, and I can look after myself now that I am independently wealthy.” Sophia stood. “I’m willing to take that vow.” She looked at Arabella. “And you know I can look after you too. You need never marry.”
“I shall inherit a small sum one day,” Merry confirmed. “I have no need of a husband if I live frugally.” They all looked to Bella.
She swung her gaze between them then stood. “Well, I am not so sure how I shall look after myself, but I’ll figure it out.”
“It’s a deal then.” Merry put out her hand. “We will remain spinsters, no matter what life puts in our way. Should any of us ever be tempted by men, we vow to protect each other.”
Everyone nodded and thrust out their hands. Bella paused and drew back her hand. “We should make a blood oath.”
Arabella scowled. “A blood oath? I am certainly not slicing open my hand.”
“Very well, we shall spit on our hands then. Seal the deal like men.” Bella spat on her hand and thrust it out.
With a shrug, Sophia did the same. Merry rolled her eyes and followed suit, eyeing Arabella. “Well?”
“Oh, very well then.” Arabella spat on her hand and thrust it into the middle. They placed their hands one on top of the other. Arabella made a sound of disgust.
Merry wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore the rather wet sensation. “We do solemnly vow to remain spinsters, and to protect one another from anything or anyone who might cause us physical or emotional harm. We shall ignore the opposite sex and devote our time to our own passions and sisterhood.” She looked around at her friends. “Will that do?”
“Yes.” Arabella tugged her hand away and pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve to wipe her hand. “If you ever tell anyone we did that, I shall disown you all as friends.”
Bella chuckled and sat. “You wouldn’t dare. You love us too much.”
“Perhaps,” Arabella conceded, lowering herself onto the chair.
“Arabella has a point though. We must keep these vows a secret. No one can know of our Spinster Club,” Merry ordered.
“Is that what we are now? A spinster club?” Sophia asked.
“Yes.” Merry gave a decisive nod. “We are the Spinster Club. And we do not talk about the Spinster Club to anyone, do we all understand?”
Chapter One
Smiling to himself, Harcourt took long strides up toward the large expanse of grassland that surrounded Whitely Grange. Trees dotted the land at random intervals, but he was only interested in one tree.
Or to be more precise, one woman who happened to be sitting underneath said tree. She did not notice him approach even though he made no secret of striding up the slope to join her. Merry’s head was dipped low, a book clasped in her hands, her knees drawn up to act as a book rest. He had no doubt there would be furrows between her brows as she studied the words with precision. He’d never met a woman who could get so lost in books.
He came to a stop only a few feet from her. Sure enough, there were the furrows. He grinned to himself. Her lips were pursed, and she chewed on the end of her thumb. He could not make out the title of the book but no doubt it was some Greek myth
or tragedy. If he did not know better, he’d have assumed Merry was born with a book in hand. Her obsession with Greek myths had given him plenty to tease her over these past years.
When she did not lift her head, he moved himself deliberately, sidestepping until his body blocked the sun and cast a shadow across her book. She ignored him, her focus entirely on the book. He studied her boldly, hands clasped behind his back.
At around eighteen, Merry had grown into a fully-fledged woman. He still recalled her birthday and the strange awakening it created in him. Merry was no longer his closest friend’s sister. She was a woman. The realization had sent him reeling. He’d grown a little more accustomed to it now and at the age of twenty, so had she. Gone were the awkward braids that made her look like a child, and she dressed with a subtle feminine flair that he doubted was deliberate. With her inky black hair twisted up, delicate curls escaped and touched her neck. When she unpinned it, it would be a riot of curls—something she complained about frequently. His fingers twitched. What would she do if he just leaned in and plucked those pins away to send it spilling all over?
Shoot him a look that would kill probably.
He coughed and rocked on his heels. Merry flicked a page and he saw her gaze whisk over the words. He pressed his lips together. She must have seen him by now. Even she could not be that absorbed in a book. The minx was simply playing with him. He coughed again.
Her gaze remained on the book. “That’s a terrible cough you have there, Harry. I think you should see a doctor.”
“I could probably drop dead right here, and you would not notice.”
She lifted a finger for silence, read for a few more moments, then snapped shut the book. “What do you want, Harry?”
“I was thinking the fine company of a friend, but from that tone, it seems there is no fine company to be had.”
Merry stood and brushed down her skirt. “Forgive me, I was determined to finish that chapter. The housekeeper has insisted that every ounce of silverware must be polished today and there wasn’t a single room that was not occupied.”
Gentlemen Prefer Spinsters (Spinsters Club Book 1) Page 1