His Majesty’s Hounds – Book 6
Sweet and Clean Regency Romance
Arietta Richmond
Dreamstone Publishing © 2017
www.dreamstonepublishing.com
Copyright © 2017 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond
All rights reserved.
No parts of this work may be copied without the author’s permission.
ISBN-13: 978-1-925499-68-1
This story is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales or actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Some actual historical events of the period may be referenced in passing.
Books by Arietta Richmond
His Majesty’s Hounds
Claiming the Heart of a Duke
Intriguing the Viscount
Giving a Heart of Lace
(a prequel to Winning the Merchant Earl)
Being Lady Harriet’s Hero
Enchanting the Duke
Redeeming the Marquess
Finding the Duke’s Heir
Winning the Merchant Earl (coming soon)
Healing Lord Barton (coming soon)
Loving the Bitter Baron (coming soon)
Rescuing the Countess (coming soon)
Attracting the Spymaster (coming soon)
The Derbyshire Set
A Gift of Love (Prequel short story)
A Devil’s Bargain (Prequel short story - coming soon)
The Earl’s Unexpected Bride
The Captain’s Compromised Heiress
The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair
The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 1
(contains the first three books in a single volume.)
The Count’s Impetuous Seduction
The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption
The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress
The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 2
(contains the second three books in a single volume.)
A Remembered Face (Bonus short story – coming soon)
The Marchioness’ Second Chance (coming soon)
A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion (coming soon)
Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish
The Duke’s Improper Love (coming soon)
Other Books
The Scottish Governess (coming soon)
The Earl’s Reluctant Fiancée (coming soon)
The Crew of the Seadragon’s Soul Series,
(coming soon - a set of 10 linked novels)
For everyone who had the grace to be patient while this book, and every other book that I have written, was coming into existence, who provided cups of tea, and food, when the writing would not let me go, and endured countless times being asked for opinions.
For the readers who inspire me to continue writing, by buying my books! Especially for those of you who have taken the time to email me, or to leave reviews, and tell me what you love about these books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening, I promise to write more about your favourite characters.
For my growing team of beta readers and advance reviewers – it’s thanks to you that others can enjoy these books in the best presentation possible!
And for all the writers of Regency Historical Romance, whose books I read, who inspired me to write in this fascinating period.
Dedication
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Here is Your Preview of 'Finding the Duke's Heir'
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Books in the His Majesty's Hounds Series
Books in the Derbyshire Set Series
Regency Collections with Other Authors
Other Books from Dreamstone Publishing
The Berkshire countryside, England, April 1816
Philip Canterwood, Duke of Rotherhithe, surveyed his drawing room with some displeasure.
It was full of a mixed collection of young men, all happy to consume his food, and his excellent wines. He sighed. This was, like it or not, the best to be found as far as eligible young men of noble blood. The ending of the war may have eased things somewhat, but the impact of 20 years of fighting was clearly to be seen. Why was it that it seemed always the best men were the ones to die, and the fools the ones who survived?
He had to hope that at least one of these men was going to suit young Georgiana. They were all of impeccable breeding, titled and supposedly wealthy (although one could never be entirely sure). It was only the quality of their behaviour that gave him concern.
He had promised his bride-to-be’s father, on his deathbed, that he would see his younger daughter successfully wed to a man of quality. He intended to fulfil that promise. Unfortunately, she was intelligent, and stubborn – he suspected that, to actually get her to wed, unless a miracle happened, he might have to force her hand. It was not an idea he liked.
Still, a month of these rapacious young men eating his food, and drinking his wine, should give them a suitable chance to impress her – surely, surely, one would take her fancy?
Ah well, he would see soon enough. Cordelia and Georgiana would arrive this evening. He could barely wait to see Cordelia again. He still could not quite believe how lucky he was, to have found love a second time in his life, and with such a beautiful young woman.
He left the young men to their wine and conversation, and went to ensure that all arrangements were in place for his Lady’s arrival.
~~~~~
Oliver Kentworthy, Marquess of Dartworth, was equally unhappy with the company he found himself in, in the Duke of Rotherhithe’s drawing room. Had the opportunity for discussion arisen, the two men would have been surprised to find themselves so much in agreement.
Oliver found the young noblemen who surrounded him to be remarkably shallow and opinionated, without any substance to support those opinions. He felt, unsurprisingly after his last few years, utterly out of place.
He had been surprised to be invited, and was not at all sure that attending had been a wise choice. Time would tell. Given that they were all ignoring him, he suspected that the weeks ahead would not be enjoyable.
At the earliest opportunity, he removed himself to the peace of the library.
~~~~~
The mud was thick and wet and stuck to the carriage wheels like sticky, dark molasses.
“If this road becomes any rougher, I am entirely convinced that we shall break a wheel and be stuck in the mud for days and days to come.”
Lady Cordelia Branley sighed deeply and looked more than a little seasick as she perched unsteadily inside the rolling carriage and wondered how her beautiful younger sister could so easily endure the constant jostling and jarring discomfort.
Even more so, she envied Miss Millpost, their long-term companion, her ability to actually sleep under such conditions.
“It can’t be much further, Cordelia. An hour at most and we should be at Canterwood Park. I’m sure the road will improve as we get closer.” Georgiana drew a strand
of fine blond hair from across her face and smiled at her sister, hoping to cheer her up when she felt no joy herself at leaving her beloved family home.
“I know it’s been terribly hard since Papa passed away, dear Cordelia.”
The carriage lurched in and out of a deep rut and the two Ladies nearly fell off their seats. After taking a moment to regain her balance, Georgiana continued speaking.
“And now we have to leave our lovely house so that you can marry the Duke and I can find a husband.”
She frowned and pursed her full lips.
“But why on earth did Papa arrange things in such a way? I would never have left the estate if Papa had not placed that annoying clause in his will. It is entirely vexatious to have to marry before I may come into my inheritance fully!”
“Oh, Georgiana. Don’t speak of Papa in such a way. He was only thinking of our happiness. He knew it would be difficult for us to manage on our own and only wanted to be sure that we both found good husbands.”
The evening was drawing in and a shadow fell across the delicate curve of Georgiana’s fine cheekbones. Cordelia gasped as the carriage lurched once again. She was feeling tired and was worried about her appearance after the arduous coach journey. She wanted to look her best for her future husband.
“I, for one, am grateful for my good fortune. I have not only found love, but I am to be the Duchess of Rotherhithe. You know that the Duke is a very kind and wealthy man. He will take very good care of your inheritance until such time as you are married.”
Georgiana pulled the carriage blanket about her and shook her head.
“I know I could have taken care of everything myself. With or without a husband!”
Cordelia was slightly shocked at her sister’s unladylike sense of independence.
Whilst she had to admit that Georgiana had shown remarkable dedication to learning everything that she could about estate management in the months since their father’s death, she still could not quite comprehend why Georgiana would want to do everything herself.
“Papa only wanted the best for you, Georgie, and you know that you can return to the house whenever you want, once you have a new husband - just as soon as you’ve spoken your wedding vows.”
“But your dear Duke has already appointed a farm manager to help the estate manager run Casterfield Grange in our absence and he’s even sent over another gardener to look after the grounds. I only hope that they know enough between them to make sure that my flower beds are properly tended. I’ve worked so hard to cultivate the rose bushes and now a pair of complete strangers are trampling all over my precious flowers in their muddy boots. It just isn’t fair!”
“Philip is more than a Duke, Georgiana. Unlike many titled men, he actually cares about his lands and people, just like Papa did. He understands these things. He knows how to run an estate. He’s been doing it for years.”
“Well, he’s certainly had enough years of practice.” There was a slightly hard, sulky edge to Georgiana’s voice.
Philip Canterwood, the Duke of Rotherhithe, was nearly twenty-five summers older than Cordelia, and Georgiana, in her tiredness, was not so subtly referring to that fact.
A silence fell between the two sisters as the cool, damp air pinched at their cheeks and made them pull their carriage blankets closer to their chins.
“Oh Delia, I do worry about you sometimes. I know that you say you love the Duke, and I’m sure you do, but really, are you quite sure about marrying a man so much older than you?”
“Of course, silly. I do love him, very much, and he loves me. And he’s such a sweet and kind gentleman - I just know in my heart that I’m going to be happy with him.”
“But he’s already an old man, dearest sister. Doesn’t that concern you in any way?”
Cordelia laughed. “He’s not so old you know. Forty-two isn’t really old. He’s in the prime of life – he’s strong and handsome, and well respected. Why would that worry me? And… younger men are somehow better? Is that what you’re implying?”
Georgiana had no practical experience on the subject of the quality of men, so she simply looked down at the carriage floor. The carriage bounced and shuddered along the rutted, muddy highway. Miss Millpost snored gently, propped against the corner of the seat.
“Papa said it was always better to be an old man’s sweetheart than a young man’s plaything!”
Georgiana looked thoughtful at that, then shrugged. “I don’t think I want to be anyone’s sweetheart or plaything. I just want to go home. How long am I really expected to stay at the Duke’s, Cordelia? It’s such a terrible nuisance to be wrenched away from home like this. Surely, once your wedding is done, I can go home, even if I haven’t found anyone to marry by then?”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone to marry. Papa left the house and the farmlands to you, Georgiana. He was a Baron and you’re a Baron’s daughter. You’re quite the catch, you know – there will be gentlemen falling at your feet, given that you have a rich dowry, and you’re pretty. The house and the lands will be yours as soon as you’re wedded, and, even though they will stay yours, as Papa willed it, your new husband will get the benefit of the good income the property will produce. It really couldn’t be simpler. Your fate, my darling sister, is in your own hands – you just have to get on with choosing a man and marrying him. And Philip will make sure that you make a good match.”
Cordelia smiled, with all the warmth her heart could muster in the cramped conditions of the draughty coach.
The unspoken truth was that so many young men of noble blood had taken service in His Majesty’s forces to fight the French, and never come home, that there was, to some extent, rather a shortage of eligible young men.
The wars had dragged on for nearly twenty years and the Army and Navy had swallowed up a generation of young men, despatching them to fight in so many wars in faraway places. Whilst the war was now ended, over its course it had taken many, many lives - by disease, musket fire, cannon volleys and the cuts and slashes of sabre blades.
Many young women despaired of ever finding a husband at all, especially a man with all his limbs and eyes intact, who was still on the right side of sixty.
Yes, there were still eligible bachelors to be found, but the competition for strong-limbed, blue-blooded and landed young men was fierce indeed.
Too many of the young men from the great houses, who had managed to return from war unscathed, or escaped its touch altogether, were more inclined to squander their fortunes at the gaming tables, drinking and carousing, all too aware of how short and cruel life could be. They preferred to play rather than apply themselves to the arduous business of running their estates.
Georgiana felt instinctively repelled by such callow behaviour. She would much prefer to remain on her own than be saddled with some crowing fool who only sought the pleasures of brandy and cards in the smoke-filled salons of disreputable hostesses. It really was a fate too terrible to contemplate. The thought sometimes made her weep with frustration. There had to be a better way – it was so unfair that women were expected to be ruled in all things by men.
In the growing darkness of the carriage’s cramped interior, Georgiana’s thoughts strayed to the days of her childhood, when life had been far simpler and easier to deal with. She wished things were simple now. She wished she were back at Casterfield Grange, the house she loved and the lands she’d grown up on, the rich agricultural farm lands she’d learned to care for, and manage. All her memories where there – she barely remembered living anywhere else. The girls had lost their mother when they were small children; Georgiana had been only five and her sister barely seven at the time.
Although there had been beautiful portraits of their mother on the walls of Tillingford Castle, which now graced the halls of Casterfield Grange, neither of the girls could really remember her.
The society beauty who had become the dazzling Baroness Tillingford was a faint memory of warm arms and the scent of roses, but little more. They�
��d had nurses, governesses, maids and companions. But no mother.
Yet both girls had been most fortunate to inherit their mother’s fine looks. The early loss of their mother had drawn the two sisters into a close and unbreakable bond of kinship. Cordelia, the taller of the two, had always been deeply fond of her little sister. She’d always felt very protective towards her. She also wondered, sometimes, if the absence of a mother had made Georgiana a little too headstrong and stubborn for a Lady of her rank and position.
But Georgiana was an intelligent young woman with a quick mind and an extremely capable brain. Her father had happily indulged her interest in books by hiring Miss Millpost, a strict but perceptive woman, as governess, and then a tutor to teach her something of the classics. Miss Millpost had spotted a kindred soul in the young child and happily taught her chess, encouraging the curious and critical young mind to flourish and develop in ways that might have shocked the other members of the local aristocracy.
Miss Millpost was a stickler for propriety, but also saw no reason that a girl shouldn’t use her brain. In general, girls were expected to sew and learn domestic arts like embroidery, painting watercolours, playing musical instruments, and managing the day to day activities of a household.
Often, women of rank were not even expected to be able to read, in the more traditional of families.
There were servants and maids and footmen to attend to all of the manual labours, and a Lady was expected to rule her household with firmness and disciplined good order.
She was not expected to get her delicate fingers dirty or spoil her fine gowns in the gardens. Georgiana had always been a poor fit for that image of womanhood.
She had preferred the outdoors, the stables and the gardens, collecting an impressive variety of plants and flowers. She loved to rush into her father’s study with an armful of blooms, mud on her dress and feet, hands grubby from toiling in the soil and place the fragrant petals before him.
He would laugh and kiss her on her forehead and call her his pretty peasant girl, loving her light and energy and indulging her hobbies and interests. She reminded him so much of his deceased wife, who had been just such a bright and intelligent person, if not, perhaps, quite so prone to acquiring a covering of dust or mud on her clothing!
Redeeming the Marquess: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 6) Page 1