Regency Romances for the Ages

by Grace Fletcher

  “Take it easy, sister. It’s me.”

  Christabel’s heart hammered in her chest. Thank God. She had thought she had been caught by someone else, and she had no explanation. The hand lowered from her mouth and Christabel turned. A tall, dark-haired man stood in front of her, giving her a lopsided smile. Christabel hissed and flung her arms around him.

  “God, James! Don’t do that. You nearly made my heart stop.”

  “Apologies. I thought you heard me.” Her brother pulled back and cupped her jaw. “You weren’t followed out? I don’t want you to get into trouble with Baron and Baroness Laurie.”

  “I wasn’t followed.” Christabel rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry so much. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

  James grunted. “With all these men around, I wouldn’t say that out loud. They don’t like women not wanting a man to guide them.”

  “I’ve had my fair share trying to keep up with your demands.”

  James raised his eyebrows. Then he chuckled. “Did you get what I asked for?”

  Christabel reached into the folds of her skirts. She was wearing a slightly heavier skirt than usual so she could use the pockets that her maid had sewn in it to hide the money. She passed it across to James. “Here. I had to pawn the jewellery all over London.”

  “Thank you, Chrissie. You’re a darling.”

  James stuffed the money into his jacket. Christabel glanced in the direction of the house. She was going to be missed if she stayed any longer.

  “I won’t be able to help you with money for much longer, James.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve sold practically all the jewellery Mother and Father left me, apart from a couple of special things I can’t bear to part with.” Christabel’s hand went to the necklace hanging around her throat. “And unless you want me to steal from the people who took me in, I can’t sell anything else.”

  James’ expression softened, and he squeezed her shoulder. “I know, Chrissie. I shouldn’t have to put this on you, but I don’t have anyone else to turn to.” He drew her closer and kissed her forehead. “I love you, sister. You’ve always been there for me.”

  “Of course.” Christabel hugged him around his waist, her head on his chest. “You’re my brother. I’ll always be there for you.”

  James embraced her in return. “You are a wonderful sister.”

  Christabel held back a giggle. James was a cad and a bit of a brute but he was still her brother. He could click his fingers and she would do his bidding even if it meant getting herself into trouble.

  But she didn’t like James being on the run. He was in trouble and he needed to prove his innocence, but nobody was paying attention to him. Christabel knew if he told the authorities what happened and admitted his fault in it, they would go easy on him. But James wasn’t levelheaded like that. He had panicked and fled. Now he was in even deeper trouble.

  Christabel hated seeing him like this.

  “How long do you think you’ll have to be on the run for?”

  James sighed and eased back, running his hands through his hair. “Until they find out that I was telling the truth.”

  “How can they find that out unless you go to them and tell them?”

  “You know they’re not going to listen to me.” James scowled. “Money talks, remember, and I don’t have any.”

  “But I can speak for your character,” Christabel protested but James shook his head.

  “I don’t want you to do that, Chrissie. Something might happen to you. I’ll figure it out. I just need to lie low and figure out what to do.”

  Christabel wanted to say more, try to persuade him to go to the local constable and tell him everything. But James was right. The man who had died had been rich, much richer than James would ever be. He wouldn’t have a chance.

  She swallowed back her frustration and nodded, trying not to cry. “Please stay safe, James.”

  “I will.” James’s expression softened, and he tapped her nose with his finger, the way he used to do to her when she was a child. “I love you, Chrissie.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Christabel watched as her brother hurried through the maze and disappeared around the corner. Smoothing her hands on her skirts, Christabel checked that nobody was watching her and hurried back to the ballroom. Hopefully, she could slip back in and say she took a long walk alone and nobody would be any the wiser.

  She was known to wander off on her own at times during gatherings. Christabel might as well go on keeping up the appearance.

  Chapter 3

  Setting up for

  Competition

  P ortsmouth groaned and stood, pacing across to the desk. “Come on, Albie, are you going to get out of this mood?”

  Albie looked up. He had been staring at the paperweight perched on the edge of his blotter and had almost forgotten that his friend was in the room. “What mood?”

  “The mood that you’ve been in for the past week.”

  Albie scowled. He knew he was in a mood but he hadn’t realized it was that noticeable. Nobody else had commented on it.

  He just couldn’t take his mind off that evening where he first saw Christabel Townshend. She was like a breath of fresh air. Albie had wanted to go over to her and introduce himself. Maybe even have a dance, downing brandy with Portsmouth pushed aside. But she had escaped into the garden and met a man by the maze. Someone Albie didn’t recognize. They hadn’t kissed, but they had been close, Christabel willingly embracing the man. It looked like an intimate meeting, especially with Christabel giving him money.

  Albie had gone back to the ball in a mood. He had walked straight out to his carriage, almost forgetting Portsmouth on the way. His chances with Christabel Townshend seemed to have been stopped before they even started. Albie hadn’t realized until he woke up the next morning with the worst hangover in his life that he had finished off two large decanters.

  The woman had him knotted up, and Albie had no idea how to deal with it.

  Portsmouth scowled and shook his head. “I’ve been patient with you, but it’s not any fun sitting around with that black cloud over your head. This is worse than when Clarissa dropped you for the Earl of Norwich.”

  “You think so?”

  “I was there, remember? I swear every time I see you, you’re talking about Christabel Townshend like she’s the last woman on earth.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Portsmouth leant both hands on the desk as he stared at his friend. “I’ve never known you to be so fixated on someone before. And you certainly weren’t like this with Clarissa.”

  “Was I not?”

  “No, you weren’t. Which makes me think that this girl is special.”

  Albie was now feeling foolish. He knew he had been in a bit of a low mood but hadn’t realized how bad it had been getting. And he didn’t like Portsmouth prodding him like this. Albie scowled and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be daft, Portsmouth. I’ve had enough of women for now. Once bitten, twice shy, and all that.”

  “Oh, really? Then why did I hear one of your footmen giving you some news on Miss Townshend when I came in?”

  Albie flushed. He stood and stalked to the window, hoping that Portsmouth didn’t see his red face. “Because I was curious. I’m bored. I need to keep my interest on something.”

  “Yes. With a woman.”

  “Enough!”

  Portsmouth smirked and pushed off the desk. He joined his friend at the window, sitting on the window seat. “So, do tell.”

  “What?”

  “What did you learn about her?”

  Albie raised his eyebrows. “Why do you want to know? Moments ago you were complaining that I was spending too much time talking about her and thinking about a woman I saw in the gardens with someone else.”

  Portsmouth grinned. “Let’s just say life can get very boring, and it’s fun seeing you all in a fluster about a woman. Now I’d
like to hear about the girl who’s special enough to get a duke’s attention.”

  Albie knew Portsmouth was just humouring him. It was unlikely that he would be of any use. He leant against the window frame. “Her parents were friends of the Baron Laurie. No status at all for the Townshends but they were childhood friends of the Baron. They both died of scarlet fever when Miss Townshend was fifteen and Baron Laurie took her in.” Albie rubbed at his eyes. He was feeling exhausted just thinking about it all. “From what I can gather, it’s always been just Christabel.”

  “And apart from the man you saw her with in the garden the other week, no sign of a man on the horizon?”

  “Not that I could find. It’s only her first Season. Baron Laurie hasn’t had any offers to court her yet.” Albie frowned. “So, why did I see her with a man in the Duke of Buckingham’s garden? Who was he?”

  “Did you recognize him?”

  “I was too far away, and it was dark.” Albie scowled. “But she did act very affectionate towards him, that much I did see.”

  And that had left a nasty taste in his stomach. Just his luck that someone would get there before him.

  “She probably has him as her suitor.” Portsmouth shrugged. “If he’s from a lower class, it would explain why she’s very secretive. Even Baron Laurie would object to her having a suitor who’s from a lower class than them.”

  “But it doesn’t make any sense. She could have any man she wanted.”

  “Including you.” Portsmouth was giving Albie a knowing look.

  Albie shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He stared out into the street, watching people go about their business. None of them looked like they were having any problems. “I wonder who that man is.”

  “Well, why don’t you ask her?”

  “What?”

  “Why don’t you ask her? Instead of hovering around at a distance asking all around the houses.” Portsmouth folded his arms. “You always say you don’t like doing that and what are you doing now?”

  Albie gritted his teeth. Portsmouth was right, he was avoiding going to the person at the heart of the matter. And that wasn’t how he liked to do things at all.

  He was such a hypocrite.

  “Maybe I should do that,” he admitted. He scratched the back of his neck. “But how do I know she’ll give me a straight answer?”

  “You don’t know until you find out.” Portsmouth sighed heavily. “Just do it, Albie, for crying out loud. I’m getting sick of your chattering about her and doing absolutely s…”

  “I don’t chatter about her all the time.”

  Portsmouth rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m going to be next in line to the throne.”

  “I don’t know. Considering King George is out of his mind, he could put anybody to be the next king.”

  Chapter 4

  Their First Meeting

  “A re you well, Christabel?”

  Christabel jumped and spun around. A handsome woman in her early forties was standing behind her, her raven hair coiled up on her head, her light brown skin making her red dress even more striking in its colour. She was looking at Christabel strangely.

  Christabel bit her lip and tried to get her thoughts in order. “Forgive me, Baroness. I didn’t hear you.”

  “I can tell.” Baroness Laurie frowned. “You’re not yourself tonight, Chrissie. You’re very jumpy.”

  Christabel flushed. There was a reason for that. She was waiting for the right moment to sneak out and see James. He had sent a message to her through the boot boy earlier that day, asking to see her that evening. There was no mention of money, which Christabel was relieved about. There was barely anything for her to sell to give to her brother.

  It had been nearly two weeks since she had seen him. Hopefully, he had made the money stretch better than he had before. James wasn’t known for looking after his money. That was the reason their parents disowned him. He could not watch his spending and after wasting his entire inheritance gambling and drinking, their father had cut James off and banned him from coming to the house again. It had been two years before Christabel managed to get hold of James again.

  That had been shortly before James ended up in a fight with a wealthy man in France and killed him in self-defence.

  Christabel knew she should have called off going to the ball, faked an illness, but Baroness Laurie was keen ongoing, and Christabel couldn’t say no to her guardian. Baron and Baroness Laurie had been very kind to her, like second parents, and Christabel found it very difficult to turn down an offer.

  James would know where she was. He followed the Society pages closely, so they knew when they could meet without raising suspicions. If the Lauries knew that Christabel was meeting her brother and giving him money, they could disown her too. Christabel didn’t have enough money to her name to last on her own.

  “I’ve been a little… off today,” she admitted. “It’s been a long day.”

  Baroness Laurie was still looking at her oddly. She touched the younger woman’s arm. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to help you?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Christabel wasn’t, really. Ever since getting back into contact with her brother, Christabel felt edgy. Her stomach was a bundle of nerves. Any second now, James could be found or Christabel would be found out. She didn’t like the fear of being caught. Trying to be her usual self and hide that part of her was really difficult. It took a lot out of her.

  “Baroness?”

  Christabel heard the deep baritone and turned. Her heart stumbled and jumped as she stared at the man approaching them, wearing the finest silks and wearing a smile that had her stomach tightening. Tall, dark, and gorgeous didn’t even cover it. This man exuded wealth, and the charisma seemed to ripple off him, hitting Christabel in the face.

  She swayed and tried to get her focus back. One look from a man who was very high up in the nobility and she was a mess.

  “Oh, Your Grace!” Baroness Laurie beamed and dropped into a deep curtsy. “How nice to see you again.”

  “My dear Baroness.” The newcomer took Baroness Laurie’s hand and bowed over it, giving her a devilish grin. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”

  Baroness Laurie tittered as she straightened up. “A flatterer, as always.”

  “Like father, like son.” Then he turned to Christabel and the smile in his eyes seemed to deepen. “And is this your ward?”

  “Yes, it is.” Christabel was aware of the baroness touching her arm. “This is Christabel Townshend. Christabel, this is Albie. Or, rather, Walter Ridley, Duke of St Albans.”

  A duke? He had to be in his early twenties, only a small handful of years older than Christabel. And he was a duke? Christabel stared at him. There had to be a law against that.

  There also had to be a law against being too handsome at such a young age.

  Realizing that she was supposed to greet him, Christabel dropped her head as her cheeks burned and gave a quick curtsy. “Your Grace.”

  “Miss Townshend.” Albie bowed, giving her a smile that made her weak at the knees. “May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

  Christabel hadn’t realized that the last dance had ended and everyone was taking their places. She had managed to keep away from the dancing, making sure nobody saw her card and marked it. She didn’t want to be too busy to meet her brother in a short while.

  But she could manage one dance.

  “I’d like that, Your Grace. I don’t think my card is marked for this dance.”

  Albie grinned and took her hand. Christabel tried not to shiver as heat travelled up her arm. She was led onto the dance floor and set herself up, Albie opposite her. As they danced, Christabel tried to concentrate on keeping in time to the music, but all she could think of was when would be an ideal time to sneak out and see her brother.

  He wouldn’t mind if he didn’t see her for once—she hadn’t sent a reply, after all—but Christabel hadn’t seen him for a while. She wanted to see him. All s
he had to do now was gracefully excuse herself from the duke.

  It wouldn’t be easy, and Christabel didn’t want to be seen as rude. Then again, he was a very handsome man near her age and he was showing her an interest. James would tell her to make the most of it.

  So Christabel decided to do that.

  At the end of the dance, Albie approached her with a pleased smile. “You dance beautifully, Miss Townshend,” he declared, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

  Christabel could feel herself blushing. “So do you.” It was lame but the best response she could muster.

  Albie’s eyes twinkled. He straightened up and held out an arm. “Please, take a walk around the room with me?”

  Christabel didn’t have to think. She placed her hand on his arm and followed him off the dance floor. “Haven’t you got more conversing to do with everyone else in the room?” she asked. “After all, I am a nobody compared to them.”

  “You’re certainly not a nobody, and I’m quite happy where I am.” Albie chuckled. “Why? Are you that eager to get rid of me?”

  “Yes. No!” Christabel wished she could sink through the floor. “I mean, I’m not exactly high up in Society. You’re a duke. Wouldn’t you want to talk with people who actually have titles?” She had heard that it was possible for a match between a duke and someone as low down on the Society ladder as her, but Christabel didn’t think it could happen for real. Fantasy should stay where it belonged.

  “I prefer to stay here.” Albie gave her a wink. “You’re much more interesting.”

  He had winked at her? Christabel tried to gather her thoughts after that. That action had to be considered salacious, surely? She swallowed and tried to find her quick-witted side, a side she had forgotten about since James had appeared in her life again. “Baroness Laurie did say you were a flatterer. And she was right.”

  “Well, she was always a very astute woman.”

  “Haven’t you ever had a conversation where you weren’t complimenting the woman every five seconds?”

  “You don’t like the compliments?”