The Brynthwaite Boys: Season Two - Part One

by Farmer, Merry

  The Brynthwaite Boys

  Season Two - Part One

  Merry Farmer

  THE BRYNTHWAITE BOYS

  SEASON TWO

  VOLUME ONE

  Copyright ©2018 by Merry Farmer

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the retailer where it was purchased and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

  Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill (the miracle-worker)

  Episode One – A New Day

  Episode Two – A String of Consequences

  Episode Three – A Happy Discovery

  Episode Four – A Parting of Ways

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Episode One - A New Day

  Untitled

  Episode Two - A String of Consequences

  Untitled

  Episode Three - A Happy Discovery

  Untitled

  Episode Four - A Parting of Ways

  Untitled

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Episode One - A New Day

  Brynthwaite, Cumbria - 1895

  Flossie

  Flossie Stowe let out a long, satisfied sigh as her lover, the preeminent hotelier, Jason Throckmorton, collapsed beside her, his passion spent at last. “Good morning,” she murmured, a hint of teasing in her voice. Every morning was a good morning when it involved waking up in such a delicious way.

  Jason hummed as he rolled to his side and pulled her into his arms. His body was still hot from love-making, his well-defined muscles relaxed after the release of orgasm. She knew every inch of him like she knew her own soul, but it still felt wonderful to have him wrapped around her. “Good morning yourself.” He buried his face in her dark hair, and, by all appearances, fell back into a cozy slumber.

  Flossie giggled to herself as she smoothed her hand along his side and hip. That morning, like every morning for the past month since they’d returned from Silecroft, where they’d gone to discuss the choices facing them, had been greeted with comfort and desire without a thing between them, not even a French letter. Flossie closed her eyes and breathed a silent prayer that the hoped-for outcome of their morning activity—and their evening and occasional afternoon activities as well—would bless them with a baby soon. Then at least something would go the way they’d expected it to.

  It had been a trying month, with more twists and turns than a gothic novel. Everyone and everything at The Dragon’s Head Inn had been turned upside down after Jason made adjustments to his business plans—adjustments that he insisted would make the massive changes to their personal plans possible. The staff had been turned over, troublemakers sent off to London, Manchester, or the new hotels in Winchester and York. New people had been brought in and interviewed meticulously to make certain they were a good fit for the wildly unusual goings-on that were about to happen in Brynthwaite. The ability to be discreet had become the number one skill to recommend new employees, but the same skills couldn’t necessarily be counted on in friends, which presented a whole other problem.

  All in all, it made Flossie want to close her eyes again, like Jason had, and snuggle against him as though they were the only two people in the world. As if the things they wanted were all that mattered. But in the other room of Jason’s suite, the clock struck the hour of six.

  “No,” Jason grumbled as Flossie began the always entertaining process of extracting herself from his arms. “Just a little longer. You can be late for once.”

  “I can’t,” she giggled, prying his hands from her sides and wriggling away from him. They had repeated the same mock struggle for more than a fortnight. Silly as it was, she rather liked the idea that he didn’t want to let her go. It made the rest bearable. “You know how Mr. Perry fusses when I’m not at the front desk by half-six sharp to relieve him.”

  “And what about me?” Jason asked with a lazy grin. “What if I need relief?”

  Flossie let out a wry laugh and gave up her struggle, leaning closer to him and kissing him deeply. “You always need relief,” she teased him. But at heart, it was no joke. She’d been convinced their change in circumstances and the decision to make no secret of their connection would lessen his peculiar affliction—she still thought “satyriasis” was a devilish term for it—but, in fact, it had grown slightly worse in the last few weeks. Although, if she were honest, that was partially to be expected, what with everything that loomed before them.

  “I have a meeting with Lady E at ten,” she said at last, sighing. “And then there’s the wedding.”

  Jason grew serious, the tension in his arms lessening. “Oh yes. The wedding.”

  Flossie pulled away from him and climbed out of bed. She threw on the robe she kept draped over the chair in the corner of the room before heading toward the door. “I know you have your reservations about the wedding,” she said, opening the door and pausing before moving on to the bathroom, “but we talked about this, and we agreed it’s for the best. It’s the only way for everyone to get what they want.”

  “I know.” Jason flopped to his back. “It just seems so….” He pushed a hand through his hair and let out a breath. A smile touched Flossie’s lips in spite of herself. Jason was deliciously handsome lying on his back in bed, the sheet bunched at his waist, exposing his chest, and doing little to hide the shape of his hips and legs underneath. “It just seems so hasty,” he finished at last.

  “Hasty or not,” she told him, “it’s for the best.” Before he could drag her into another debate on the topic, she sped through the door and across the main room of the suite to the bathroom.

  She washed and dressed as fast as she could, thoughts of the changes her life had undergone in less than a year swirling around her. At the same time the year before, she had existed in a state of utter misery, used and insulted by the men around her at Crestmont Grange. Now, her world was so different that she could barely comprehend it. She dressed in a modest, yet fashionable, skirt and blouse ensemble instead of a dowdy maid’s uniform, fixed her hair in a stylish bun instead of wearing a frilly cap, and pinned an expensive brooch containing a ticking watch to her chest before leaving Jason’s suite and heading downstairs.

  “Good morning, Miss Stowe,” one of the new maids, Norma, greeted her with a curtsy and wide eyes.

  “Good morning, Miss Stowe,” the greeting was repeated by Reggie, the new porter, who had taken up his position by the hotel door a full five minutes before he was scheduled to.

  “Good morning,” Flossie greeted both of them as she marched across the hall, giving Reggie an extra nod and smile of approval. “Good morning, Mr. Perry.” She smiled at the night concierge as she walked behind the counter. “Did we have a smooth evening?”

  “We did, Miss Stowe,” the grey-haired man informed her with a sober nod. “Two late arrivals, but other than that, things were quiet.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Perry.”

  With one more smile, Flossie turned and headed into her office, which, up until three weeks ago, had been Jason’s office. It was hers now, with a brass plaque on the door that declared as much: “Florence Stowe: Hotel Mana
ger.” Jason had handed over control of The Dragon’s Head along with the office, telling her she could rearrange the furnishings however she saw fit, both for the office and the hotel in general. His efforts were now turned toward launching the two new hotels. As it turned out, Flossie hadn’t had to rearrange anything. The Dragon’s Head ran according to her preferences anyhow.

  She sat at the desk and pored over the books from the previous week, checking bookings, glancing at finances, and making mental calculations and plans for the future. Anyone who questioned the ability of a woman to run a hotel—and questions were raised nearly every day by those who failed to understand how Flossie had come by her position—was quickly set straight when it came to Flossie’s competence. Granted, it would have been impossible for her to manage a hotel in London or any of the larger cities, but Brynthwaite was far enough out of the way for the guests who arrived with more cosmopolitan attitudes to brush off her authority as the eccentricity of northerners.

  Flossie was finishing up an inventory report from the laundry when there was a soft knock at her door. She glanced up to find Dora, the new head maid, one of the few staff members who hadn’t been shipped off to another of Jason’s hotels, and her friend, hovering in the doorway.

  “Good morning, Dora,” Flossie greeted her with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

  Dora inched into the room with an air of deference that made Flossie cringe. “Good morning, Miss Stowe.” Dora curtsied.

  Flossie winced and stood. “Dora, for the last time, you don’t have to call me Miss Stowe. We’re still friends.”

  “I couldn’t,” Dora insisted, shaking her head. “You’re the manager. You’re...you’re practically—”

  “The queen?” Flossie teased.

  Dora lowered her eyes in embarrassment, and Flossie’s heart sank. “You know what I mean,” Dora said.

  In fact, Flossie did know what she meant. She meant that, like it or not, when she’d stepped over the gaping chasm into a grander social position by making her relationship with Jason known, she’d left every friend she had on the other side.

  “What can I do for you?” Flossie repeated with more kindness, and more authority.

  Dora recovered from one kind of embarrassment and shifted into another. “The honeymoon suite is ready for this evening, as you requested,” she said, not quite able to meet Flossie’s eyes.

  “Already?” Flossie pretended to be pleased with the speed of Dora’s work rather than wary of why it had been necessary.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Dora nodded. “Oh, and Cook wants to know if you’d like a special meal prepared for…for the newlyweds to be sent up later.”

  Flossie paused to think. She had her reservations about the whole thing. It wouldn’t exactly be a romantic wedding. But everyone deserved something special from time to time. “I’ll go speak to Cook,” she decided, heading out of the office. “In the meantime, how are the new maids coming along?”

  “Well enough,” Dora said. She gave a full report on the army of young girls who had been brought up from unlikely circumstances, such as orphanages, as Jason had instructed. Flossie was pleased that Jason was so socially-minded when it came to helping young men and women who came from the same sort of lowly background as he had, but the step up had been a steep learning curve for some of the young people.

  By the time she finished speaking to Cook and addressing the new maids, bellboys, and porters who needed a talking to, it was nearly ten o’clock.

  “Is Lady E here yet?” Jason asked as he came down the stairs to the lobby at last, just as Flossie was returning from a visit to the laundry. They met halfway through the lobby, and although both of them were fully engaged in their business selves, Flossie felt the familiar pull in her heart that met her every time she and Jason were near.

  “She should be here any moment,” she answered, looking at her watch brooch.

  “She’s here now,” Lady E herself announced as she swept through the hotel’s front door, like an ingénue taking the stage for her first, triumphant performance. Flossie’s old friend, Polly Penrose followed her, far more stylishly dressed and turned out than an ordinary lady’s maid should look. Instantly, Lady E had the full attention of every member of staff and guest in the lobby. She used it to the full as she glided closer to Jason and Flossie. “And how is my dashing fiancé this morning?” she asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. Polly followed, sending Flossie a friendly nod and a grin, which Flossie returned.

  Jason cleared his throat and darted a suspicious glance around the room, his cheeks pinking. “I’m as well as could be expected.”

  “Aren’t you going to give me a kiss?” Lady E asked, mischief flashing in her eyes.

  Jason cleared his throat again and tugged anxiously at the bottom of his severely-buttoned frock coat. He sent a desperate glance Flossie’s way before leaning in, keeping his hips as far from Lady E as he could, and pecking her on the cheek.

  Flossie crossed her arms, her smirk intended to tell Lady E exactly what she thought of the woman’s antics. In spite of their odd, three-way arrangement, Flossie was technically as far beneath the earl’s daughter as she’d been the day she was born, but the two of them knew the reality of the situation was beyond social rules.

  “Good morning, Lady Elizabeth,” Flossie greeted her with the smallest of curtsies she could manage. “How are you on this fine morning?”

  “Magnificent,” Lady E replied, facing Flossie in a way that shut Jason out of their conversation entirely. “My dear Aunt Charlotte and her new husband are returning home tomorrow, my father is in good spirits, and my cousin Alexandra is on the verge of returning to her beloved Hampshire. Happiness abounds.” She turned to Polly and winked at her.

  “If you will excuse me,” Jason mumbled, stepping to the side. “I have some telegrams I need to send.”

  “Be back here in twenty minutes to walk me home,” Lady E ordered with a smile.

  Flossie’s eyes snapped wide, and she hardened her jaw, furious that the noblewoman would order Jason around. But there was only so much she could say, under the circumstances. “Are you sure our business will only take twenty minutes?” she asked instead.

  “Of course.” Lady E shrugged. “I only wish to tell you the new ideas I’ve had for the engagement party. And you’ve brought samples from The Dragon’s Head’s linen stores, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, my lady,” Flossie said, frustration pumping through her like iron filings in her blood.

  “Then this should take no time at all. Come along.” Lady E gestured for Flossie and Polly to follow her behind the desk and into the office as though it belonged to her instead of Flossie or Jason. “Now, I’ve added a few more people to the guest list,” she said as she crossed to the desk to make herself at home. “I trust that won’t be a problem.”

  “The hotel is already booked to capacity for this weekend, my lady,” Flossie said, fighting not to clench her jaw as she spoke.

  “You’ll just have to cancel the bookings of unimportant people,” Lady E said with a wave of her hand. “Especially since I’ve convinced Lord Porchester and his wife to join us. They’re ever so important, and I want all the finest people in the land here to celebrate my engagement.”

  “Your engagement,” Flossie repeated. Not hers and Jason’s engagement. Jason was an afterthought in the entire scheme. On the one hand, she should have delighted in that. There was no fear at all that Lady E would lure the man she loved away from her, in spite of marrying him. On the other, if Lady E could toss Jason aside so casually this early in the game, what did that say for further down the road?

  “Precisely.” Lady E smiled. “Now come over here and show me what options we have for dinner plates.”

  Flossie sighed inwardly, but did what was asked of her. The paper marriage between Jason and Lady E had its benefits, but she was deeply worried that it would be the death of her.

  Jason

  Telegrams didn’t take that long to send,
but Jason did his best to stay far, far away from the office for the entire time it took Flossie to sort out whatever new demands Lady E was in the midst of making. The deal the three of them had struck would benefit everyone. Lady E would have the prestige of marriage, which would allow her to live in London at whichever of his hotels she chose, he would be introduced into the highest echelons of society and, hopefully, gain the contacts he needed to buy a baronetcy, and Flossie would be able to see her sons raised as the grandsons of an earl. But most importantly of all, Lady E’s connections at the highest levels of society would enable Marshall to win the custody battle for his daughters, which still raged with his deceased wife, Clara’s, family. It would all be worth it if Marshall got his girls back.

  But in the meantime, the whole mess was an increasingly bitter pill to swallow, and they’d hardly begun. He would have avoided Lady E entirely, if he hadn’t already committed to being part of a bigger scheme that day, a scheme which required him to be at Huntingdon Hall shortly. Damn his friends, he thought as he headed back into the lobby in order to catch Lady E. They needed him more than he needed to keep his dignity intact.

  “There you are, Jason,” Lady E snagged him as he crossed through the lobby. “Where are you going looking like a disobedient schoolboy?” She marched out of the office, Polly just a few steps behind her, and Flossie bringing up the rear. From the frown Flossie wore, the meeting had gone just about as badly as they’d both expected.

  “I was just in the middle of…I was about to go….” He could never think of an appropriate lie when he needed one. “I thought perhaps you’d left without giving me the chance to escort you home.” He gave up, put on the bravest smile he could, and offered Lady E his arm. She wasn’t part of the plot for the day, but if escorting her home would make it look like he had a legitimate reason to be at Huntingdon Hall, he’d suffer through.