A Mysterious Governess for the Reluctant Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Ayles, Abby

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  Turn on the next page to read the first chapters of my best-selling novels: Portrait of Love & The Tales of Haskett’s Manor!

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  Portrait of Love

  The Duke of Norrend, Arthur Cain Cartwright moved his newspaper down just enough to look over it at his wife and the girls. He caught the eye of his eldest daughter, Lady Annabelle. She looked back, somewhat amused by the situation.

  The Duchess, Louise Ann Cartwright was red in the face but silent. She seemed to be having a staring contest with one of the twin sisters she was mentoring. The indignant girl stared back without fear.

  “Joanna, you cannot go against the rules simply because you want to. It is not done that way.”

  “I can,” Joanna replied, shaking her blond hair back and forth. “I like my hair down and I want to keep it that way.”

  “A lady does not wear her hair down around her shoulders.”

  Joanna gave her a cold look. “I am not going to put my hair up, my lady. You are not my mother. I do not have to do what you say.”

  “I am afraid you do, young lady. You were entrusted in my care by your mother and your father and I will do my best to see that you are raised properly. You will not go to the ball if you do not put your hair up in a style similar to your sister’s.”

  Joanna’s frown deepened. “I do not want to look like her!” she cried.

  “You do not look like her,” the Duchess of Norrend’s voice was filled with confusion and exasperation. “You do not look alike. I was merely suggesting that you wear a similar style. I did not say the exact same style. Sometimes, young lady, I am beside myself with worry for you. Your future does not look prosperous to me.”

  Annabelle watched the exchange between her mother and Joanna, standing to the side with Julia, her best friend and Joanna’s fraternal twin. Annabelle and Julia had been friends since they were in nappies. Their parents had always been good friends. Lord and Lady Rickman were fine people.

  When Julia and Joanna were twelve years old, six years previous, their brother Luke, who was only seven, fell into a pond and drowned.

  Unable to get over the loss of her precious only son, Lady Rickman isolated herself from society, withdrawing into a state of near despair. She asked her closest friend, Louise Cartwright, to care for her two daughters and raise them as her own until her depression broke.

  So Julia and Joanna lived with their mother and father but did all social events the ton had to offer with the Cartwrights and under the close, watchful eye of the Duchess.

  “That is not fair,” Joanna said. Annabelle thought for an eighteen-year-old young woman, Joanna did not act like she had the sense God gave her. After six years of this, she should know that the Duchess always got her way.

  She glanced over at Julia as Joanna and her mother continued bickering. She was tired of it and only wanted to sit down. She caught her father’s eye and begged him with her mind to beckon to her. She would gladly go and sit with him and chat.

  Her father was a personable man. He was strong, intelligent, quiet, and reserved. Very unlike his excitable wife, who was outspoken and sometimes loud.

  He was looking over at them and caught her eye. He did not beckon to her. He merely shook his head and lifted his paper. Annabelle knew a disappointed look had to have covered her face. She sighed.

  “Mother, I do not wish to stand here any longer,” she said. “I know Julia and I have things to do before the ball tonight and I do not wish to waste any more of my time. I know between the three of us girls, and Cecilia, too, we can find a hairstyle that will both be appropriate and approved by you and Joanna.”

  The Duchess looked at her daughter, surprised. Annabelle only spoke out when she was saying something logical. She nodded curtly, a frown still plastered on her once-beautiful face.

  “Yes. You three go upstairs. Annabelle, take your sister with you. She needs to prepare, even if she has not yet reached the age of courtship.”

  “Of course, Mother,” Annabelle replied, curtsying slightly. “I planned to take her with us.” It was only a little lie. She thought her mother would tell her to take Cecilia with them but did not bring it up, just in case her mother did not say it.

  Annabelle nodded at Cecilia, who smiled as she walked to them from across the room. Annabelle and Julia went through the parlor door and into the foyer. The three older girls went through the door and to the curving stairwell to go upstairs.

  Joanna pulled away from the other two quickly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She picked up her skirts and was at the top long before her sister and Annabelle. Julia shook her head and murmured to her friend.

  “I tell you, Annabelle, she is getting worse every year. Though I try so hard to teach her and show her.”

  “You two are nothing alike,” Annabelle said confidently. “Nothing.”

  “I know. It is hard to believe we are sisters, let alone twins.”

  “I do not know where she gets such spark!” Cecilia exclaimed. “I would never speak to Mother the way she does. Never, ever.”

  “She is only speaking her mind,” Julia said. “But sometimes I do wish she would say things a little more politely.”

  “Perhaps time will help,” Annabelle suggested.

  “One can only hope,” Cecilia said, shaking her pretty head.

  Her hair was piled up on her head, hanging in beautiful ringlets around her pale cheeks. She had no face paint on yet but planned to add a little rouge and some color to her lips before the ball.

  She was only sixteen and not allowed to do some of the things her eighteen-year-old sister could do.

  That was not one of the things her mother insisted on, so she took advantage of it to give herself some color. She detested the gown she would be wearing that night.

  It was a dull brown color, almost a tan with dull dark yellow soft fabric around the collar, wrists and hem of the skirt. It was pretty but the color took away any vibrance she could have hoped to achieve.

  She wanted to wear something bright pink, blue, green, red, something that would make her sparkle.

  Her hair was a pale color of yellow, but it was pretty.

  She had no eyebrows to speak of and her eyelashes could not be seen, though they were quite long.

  The only thing she could use was rouge and lipstick. She did not need face powder with smooth skin like hers.

  Annabelle looked similar to her sister but her features were more prominent. Her dark blond hair was double braided and pulled to the back.

  She was wearing a pale red dress with gold trimmings around the collar, wrists, and hem. There was a small line of pearls going down the front of it, just between her breasts. It made her look beautiful and she knew it.

  She had the perfect necklace to go with it, a row of pearls her father had bought her for her last birthday. They were the same exact size as the pearls on the dress.

  “We still have several hours for the party. We do not need to get dressed yet. Let us go out and enjoy the sunshine for a while,” Annabelle said in a low, conspiratorial voice.

  Cecilia’s hand went immediately to her mouth and she giggled behind it. Julia raised her eyebrows, a small grin fighting for the ends of her lips.

  “Annabelle, are you hatching a plot?” she asked, her voice very curious.

  Annabelle grinned. “Whatever do you mean? Of course not.”

  She turned to the stairs and jogged up them. “Come, let us change into the clothes to go outside. It may be muddy from recent rains.”

  “I think it has
been sunny enough to dry the earth, though,” Julia said, following behind her friend.

  She had a lot of clothes at the Cartwrights’ home. She had no problem fitting into them, as she was of average height and slender as could be.

  “Well, we shall see. I am going to err on the side of caution and at least bring my boots. Then if I do not need them, I will leave them on the porch.”

  Julia nodded. “That is a good idea, Annabelle. Shall I ask Joanna to come?”

  “If you wish to, of course,” Annabelle replied. “But I do not think she will want to.”

  “Probably not but I will ask.”

  Julia went to the room she shared with her sister when they visited Norrend, the name of the mansion in which Annabelle’s family lived. The other two went hurriedly to Annabelle’s room.

  * * *

  “I just do not know what to do with my sister,” Julia said, aggravated, as they walked down the pathway toward town.

  “I try so hard to encourage her to come out with me. It is not just today but it seems so often now! And do you know she has told me that she will wear the style your mother suggested to her after all? All that arguing for nothing! I do not understand the girl! Why do I feel so awful?”

  “Because you have a soft heart and she’s your sister. That’s as it should be,” Annabelle said, firmly.

  “I do not know where she gets that behavior from,” Julia sighed. “I want her to be happy but sometimes it is very difficult for me.”

  “You are a good sister, Julia,” Cecilia said. “I have seen her act younger than I am. And you defend her still. I applaud you for your patience and understanding. Whenever it gets difficult, you know we will be here to help you however we can.”

  “Thank you so much,” Julia replied in a soft voice. “I wish to see her happy and successful. Yet she seems so miserable all the time!”

  The three fell silent, knowing why Joanna was miserable. She, like her mother, could not get over the death of Luke.

  That trauma had caused Joanna to retain a resentful attitude toward the world and anything in it. Her mother’s retreat from society was another blow to Joanna that she was having a hard time handling.

  Julia accepted the Duchess as a substitute mother and Annabelle as a new sister, along with Cecilia. They were family to her.

  Joanna felt as though she had been abandoned, when in actuality, she was given a new family in addition to the one she already had.

  Joanna did not see it that way and it only caused conflict. She did not act like a lady of eighteen, the way Julia and Annabelle did.

  “I feel sorry for her.” Annabelle put one arm around her friend and grasped her by the hand.

  “It will be all right, Julia. You’ll see.”

  Cecilia giggled. “Annabelle is usually right about these things, you know,” she said in an amused voice, her pretty eyes crinkling at the ends when she smiled.

  “I truly do feel sorry for her.” Annabelle lifted one hand and placed it on her chest. “She is such a sad girl inside, so lonely and depressed, even though she is with others who love her.”

  Julia shook her head. “She is lonely in a room filled with people.”

  “We must speak about something else!” Annabelle exclaimed. “We will do our best with her and be patient! She is your sister, after all. We must come to her defense.”

  “She is not so bad, Julia,” Cecilia said, finally adding her two cents.

  Julia lifted one hand to giggle behind it. “I have two of the best friends a girl could ever ask for!”

  The three of them gathered together in a free-for-all hug, laughing softly.

  “Next time, she will come,” Annabelle said as they separated. She rested her head briefly against Julia’s head and smiled wide.

  “I hope so.” Julia sounded positive. She grinned at them.

  “It is quite warm out here, is it not? I should have brought along my fan.” Annabelle spotted a bench and made a bee line for it.

  “Let us sit in the sun for a spot and then return to our duties. What do you say?”

  “Jolly good idea, Annabelle,” Julia was on her heels. “Jolly good.”

  Chapter 2

  The Duke of Cardinal, Stephen William Colbourn, was the youngest duke in South England. He was also the most well-known and well-liked. His reputation was immaculate, despite his young age and the fact that he had taken the title when he was but a mere sixteen-years-old. He was blessed with an uncle on his mother’s side, also a duke, who took him under his wing. He’d noted to dignitaries passing through that his young nephew was the fastest learner in all the Queen’s land and he was extremely proud of the lad’s progress.

  At twenty, Duke Colbourn had solidified his reputation throughout England simply through word of mouth. If he had not met someone in person, they would know of his name all throughout England and in some other parts of the world, as well.

  His father’s estate had been large and he owned many manufacturing businesses, making furniture, clothing and other odds and ends.

  The duke’s one greatest passion, however, had nothing to do with the amount of money in his coffers. He was a lover of the arts, paintings, sculptures, and statues of old.

  He personally owned many masterpieces, which he proudly displayed in what he still considered his father’s mansion. It was difficult to let go of his father’s legacy and presence. It had been domineering and strong. His father had taught him till the age of sixteen and he considered himself a better man because he had listened.

  As he rode in the carriage down the street toward Norrend, he thought about what beauties he was about to see. He was visiting with the duke and duchess to see if they had any paintings or artifacts they wanted to sell.

  Duke Cartwright had spread word of his intention to sell half of his collection. When asked why, his report was that he had not displayed them for a long time and did not want their beauty to remain unseen.

  Duke Colbourn was excited to see what was there. Duke Cartwright had the paintings stacked in the cellar of his mansion, which, by all accounts, was quite vast.

  Duke Colbourn hadn’t been to visit the Cartwrights before. He had heard of them in name only, just as they had heard of him. Their reputation was as solid as his, though the duchess was said to be colder than her husband but amiable enough.

  He was not worried about the duchess. He was not there to talk to her or discuss business with her. As a matter of fact, he doubted he would have two words to say to the woman, other than hello and goodbye. Maybe he would tack on a “your grace” or “madam” to be civil.

  Duke Colbourn did not think of himself as a man who had time for frivolities like females. He saw no need to pursue anything of that nature until he was ready. He did not consider himself ready.

  His mother, the Duchess of Cardinal, still lived, though her countenance was not the same. It had taken a great toll on her when her husband died. She reacted similarly to Lady Rickman, although she was perfectly capable of continuing to make good decisions regarding her children and life.

  She got out of the house, attended balls and parties, socialized often with the people of the ton. They regarded her highly.

  But she was rarely seen with a smile unless she was looking at Duke Colbourn. He was her pride and joy. She expected great things from him and great things was what he had given her. He loved her dearly and vowed to always take care of her.

  His trip to the Norrend mansion was made even more special to him because they owned a valuable piece of artwork by the great Tiziano Vecellio, an Italian painter known for his colorful style and unique brushstrokes. He had created many beautiful paintings in many different styles, including portraits of individuals, landscapes, and mythological subjects. He was very well liked and his mother practically worshipped his work.

  There were three of the sixteenth century Venetian painters’ works of art hanging in the Colbourn mansion already. He was proud of them and hoped to purchase another for his mother
from Duke Cartwright.

  He’d heard the duke had procured the Salome with the Head of John the Baptist or Judith, a religious work that depicted a woman holding the head of John the Baptist while a maiden looked on. His mother considered this to be one of the most beautiful works of art ever to be painted.

  “It’s a portrait of beauty and sadness,” she would say when seeing it in a volume of famous paintings.

  He was excited to get a chance to put his hands on the actual painting, should the duke still have it. He leaned to the window and looked out at the mansion on the hill. It had a winding roadway up to the house. It was lined with trees on both sides but he could see how it wound up the side, following a flowing stream that ran along the right side of it.

  The hill the mansion was sitting on was dotted with sculptures, fountains, shrubs, flowerbeds, and the prettiest green grass the Duke of Cardinal had seen in quite some time.

  The carriage rolled smoothly over the graveled road and he was impressed by the care the duke was taking with his landscaping. It was quite beautiful.

  Duke Colbourn continued admiring the duke’s land until they reached the front doors. He stepped out of the carriage and nodded at the driver, who would stay until Duke Colbourn was ready to leave.

  He went up to the front doors. Before he could knock, it was opened by a young woman in a uniform, carrying a burlap sack. She paled when she saw him and nearly dropped the sack. He reached down and steadied it in her hands.

  “I… I apologize, my lord. I am so very sorry.” She curtsied to him several times.

  “Do not worry yourself, young lady. I am Stephen William Colbourn, the Duke of Cardinal. Your master is expecting me. Will you announce me?” While he spoke, he took the bag from her and placed it to the side. She looked down at it and then back to him, her face red.

  “Yes, your Grace, of course. Please follow me.”

  Duke Colbourn did so after she took his hat, cane, and the light cape he’d been wearing. It was not a cold day but it was somewhat humid and he did not like the feel of it.