“Lady Camellia, might I offer my congratulations? And, I might add, I congratulate you not only on your betrothal, but on your very astute choice for the manner of investing your funds. I salute your wish to help those who help themselves out of poverty. Should you, in the future, ever be considering an investment, and wish… ahh… more information… shall we say, on the business, do let me know, and I will source the necessary knowledge for you.”
Camellia felt herself waver on the spot, his words were such a shock. After all the years of carefully hiding her investing, out of fear of being disparaged for it by men, to have the support she now had made her feel beyond lucky in her life.
“Thank you, Lord Setford. I will most definitely bear that in mind.”
<<<
Primrose sat beside Camellia in the parlour, as Camellia went through her mother’s interminable lists.
Weddings, it seemed, required an enormous number of lists. The one which she was going through at that moment was a list of guests who should be invited to the Wedding Breakfast – an alarmingly long list. Camellia sighed.
“I think that Mother has decided to invite the entire ton, and more.”
“More?”
“Well, we must have Mr Black and Lady Prunella there, and given all of this, I wouldn’t be surprised if Blackwater didn’t also want others there, who helped sort out the blackmail affair. And, of course, we must have all of Bella’s family – including her mother, and Mr Gabriel Morton. I don’t care if they are of the merchant class, they are our friends, and the high sticklers of the ton can simply cope. I would far rather have friends around me, than a collection of important people whom I barely know.”
“Oh, you are right. Even after Bella’s older brother was ennobled, and she became Duchess of Hartswood when she married Lucien, everyone has mostly ignored Mr Gabriel Morton, as if they don’t know how to deal with a merchant who has noble close family. Silly, really. I have always found him a pleasant gentleman…”
Camellia heard a note in Primrose’s voice which she had not heard before, and glanced at her sister curiously, to discover that Primrose had her eyes shut and a dreamy expression on her face.
Well, that was interesting, very interesting indeed. Camellia went back to checking her mother’s guest list, carefully pretending that she had noticed nothing out of the ordinary in Primrose’s manner.
<<<
Four weeks passed as London bloomed with the spring, and April became May. In the first week, Bella came to visit Camellia one day, and swept her out the door, refusing to say where they were going. Surprisingly, Camellia’s mother simply waved them off without a word.
The carriage rolled through London, and Camellia watched the city as they went, admiring the window boxes of bright flowers and the blooming bushes in the parks. Soon, as they turned down familiar streets, she began to have a suspicion about where they were going. Bella just smiled, and told her to wait.
Eventually, they stepped down from the carriage, and set off down the street, trailed by a footman. When they turned in at the door of Madame Beaumarais’ shop, Camellia looked at Bella.
“What…?”
“Shhh. Wait.”
They were shown up the stairs, and into Madame’s private workrooms, given tea and cakes, and left there.
“Bella, why are we here?”
The door into the back room of the area opened, and Madame came out, her smile wide.
“You are here, ma cherie, because your friend is wise and generous, and because I cannot have this year’s Diamond of the ton get married in a gown made by anyone but me. That would be inconceivable!”
Camellia turned to Bella, her jaw falling open.
“But Bella, I can’t afford… Father…”
“Isn’t paying for it. I am, and Madame. It is our wedding present to you. Now, come into the fitting area, and see what Madame is making – for now, you must decide if you like it, or if we need to make changes. Even a genius can go only so far with a gown without at least one fitting!”
Stunned, Camellia stood, and allowed them to lead her through into the other room. On a wicker form, shaped as a woman, a half-made gown was pinned, where the light through the large window beside it caught sparks from the hundreds of tiny diamonds and crystals sewn onto its delicate translucent net outer layer. Beneath that, satin of a delicate pale caramel gold fell in a flowing wave to where its hem was just visible below the edge of the net. That hem was also encrusted in sparkling crystal, of white, and green and yellow in places, all placed so that the hem was encircled by a twining band of camellia flowers and their leaves.
Camellia simply stood there, almost unable to take in what she saw, then burst into tears. Bella hugged her, and Madame watched with happiness.
“I knew you would like it, cherie, it is something that few women could wear well, but you will shine, more than you ever have before. Now come, ma cherie, dry your tears, and let me pin it onto you – for we must be sure that the fit is perfect, perfect.”
Epilogue
Damien had always thought St George’s was quite large inside, but now, as family and friends crowded the church to see him wed, it seemed somehow small. Not that he cared one whit about anything but the fact that, within the hour, Camellia would be his wife.
A rustle went through the crowd, and he turned to look at the door. All breath left him. In the rainbow light cast by the high stained-glass windows stood an angel bathed in fire. Then she moved, coming slowly towards him, and his mind understood that he saw Camellia, her gown completely covered in gems, which caught sparks of fire from the brilliant light, reflecting flickers of colour with every movement she made.
He had never seen anything more beautiful.
Soon, she stood by his side, and the priest began to speak. He barely heard the words, responding as required, when required, but truly only aware of the vision at his side, the woman he loved beyond anything he had ever imagined possible.
Once they were pronounced man and wife, they walked out through the throng of those who had come to wish them well, into the bright light of the beautiful spring morning, where a cascade of thrown flower petals greeted them.
Passers-by stopped to watch, and the whole scene felt impossibly sharp and clear. She was his wife. His wife.
Love without betrayal was possible, and he was lucky enough to have been granted this chance. He would not recreate the mistakes of his parents – instead, he would treasure her until the day he died. There was no longer any room for bitterness in his heart.
Camellia looked up at him, gems and flower petals tangled in her hair, and he knew that this was the beginning of a completely new life – a life based on love and kindness, at every turn.
<<<
Camellia sank onto the couch at the side of the ballroom in Elbury House, watching the dancers. Beside her, Blackwater – Damien, she had discovered to be his forename – slipped his arm around her, and she allowed her head to fall onto his shoulder, stifling a yawn. Gently, he kissed her brow.
On the floor, a waltz had just begun, and Camellia watched with interest as Primrose was swept about by Mr Gabriel Morton. Where might that go, she wondered? Would her parents approve, if that was what Primrose wanted? She suspected that they would, even though it would shock the ton.
Another kiss arrived on her brow, and another, trailing down the side of her face. She turned, and tilted her face up to meet his lips.
“We shouldn’t… not here, at least.”
“Very true. But… I want to kiss you, and more. Can we, do you think, escape, and go to Blackwater House? Will the guests, and your parents, be offended if we leave so early?”
“My mother will be annoyed, but not surprised – I seem to remember all three of my older sisters escaping their Wedding Breakfasts as soon as they could.”
“Then let us escape. We have waited long enough to be alone.”
“We have indeed. Let us go home, and fill Blackwater House with happiness, to wash a
way the sadness of the past.”
He bent and kissed her again, softly, yet a kiss full of the promise of passion, then they rose, and went, hand in hand, to bid good evening to her parents and their guests.
The End
I hope that you enjoyed ‘A Diamond for a Duke’
After the ‘About the Author’ Section of this book, you’ll find a preview of the next book in the series – ‘A Minx for a Merchant’.
About the Author
Arietta Richmond has been a compulsive reader and writer all her life. Whilst her reading has covered an enormous range of topics, history has always fascinated her, and historical novels have been amongst her favourite reading.
She has written a wide range of work, from business articles and other non-fiction works (published under a pen name) but fiction has always been a major part of her life. Now, her Regency Historical Romance books are finally being released. The Derbyshire Set is comprised of 10 novels (9 released so far). The ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ series is comprised of 17 novels, with the last having just been released.
She also has a standalone longer novel shortly to be released, and four other series of novels in development. She lives in Australia, and when not reading or writing, likes to travel, and to see in person the places where history happened.
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Here is your preview of
A Minx for a Merchant
A Duke’s Daughters –
The Elbury Bouquet - Book 5 - Primrose
Arietta Richmond
Chapter One
“Gabriel, stop adjusting your cravat. You will ruin your valet’s skilful work! You managed to dance quite successfully at your sister’s wedding, and that was more than a year ago now. You will do perfectly well – just go and ask her, if that is what you want.”
Mr Gabriel Morton turned eyes as dark as a midnight sea upon his mother, Mrs Sophia Morton, and swallowed the retort which rose to his lips. Annoying as it was, she was right. But the issue was only partly the fact that he had only learnt these dances, which the aristocracy had all know since they were children, in the last two years. The far bigger thing which held him back had everything to do with the fact of his birth.
It did not matter that his brother had been ennobled, and his sister had married a Duke – he, himself, was still a commoner, a man born of the merchant classes, who actually worked in his family business. The fact that they were the wealthiest merchants in London did not change anything, in the eyes of the ton.
“Mother, she is the daughter of a Duke – why would she consider granting me a dance, then there are so many men who are infinitely more her social equals, all clamouring for her attention?”
“Because she is a sensible young woman, from a family of sensible people, none of whom care all that much for the class distinctions which the rest of the ton hold dear. But regardless of why, if you do not ask, you are guaranteed never to dance with her. If you ask, then the possibility exists. Sometimes, you are so like your brother…”
Gabriel grinned ruefully. She was right again, much though he was loath to admit it. Yet to be like his brother, who was now the Earl of Porthaven, was no bad thing – mostly. He turned back to watching the room, considering what he would do. The orchestra had not long struck up, and couples had formed a line for the next dance set, and were now moving through the patterns of the dance.
She was dancing, as of course she would be – dancing with Lord James Dillingham, who was heir to a Marquess. His hands fisted at his side – watching her looking happy with another man was challenging, when he desperately wanted to be in that man’s place. Seeing it drove him to a decision. He would ask her – if she refused him, so be it, but he would ask. He lost nothing by hoping.
Slowly, as the dance progressed, he moved around the edge of the ballroom, towards where her family stood, ensuring that he would be well placed to approach her when Dillingham returned her to her family at the end of the set. He felt completely out of place at these gatherings, still, but he supposed that they would come to seem more natural over time.
This particular event was the Wedding Breakfast for one of her sisters – Lady Camellia, the one who was the closest friend of his own sister, Bella. A swirling gathering of most of the ton, all well used to each other, and all regarding him as barely tolerable, for the sin of being a merchant.
Was he foolish to even consider caring for one of them? What did he have to offer her, besides money - which was something she did not require, given the wealth of her family? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The moment gave him a deep understanding of why his brother had run off to America for months when he had thought that there was no hope of being with the Lady he had fallen in love with.
The idea of simply boarding one of his ships, and leaving, of going somewhere exotic, and interesting, somewhere full of distractions, and where he would have power and authority, seemed dramatically appealing in that instant. But he knew, from his brother’s experience, that the actuality was not as appealing as the idea, and that love did not wane with distance, but rather grew stronger.
He nodded to men he knew as he moved around the room – men whose cargoes he carried on his ships, men whose funds were sometimes invested in his, and his brother’s, mercantile ventures. Men who pretended, for the sake of the occasion, that he belonged here. Eventually, as the set was finishing, he reached her family. The Duke turned to him, greeting him with genuine cheer.
“Mr Morton, you are looking well. Thank you for joining us to celebrate my daughter’s wedding. You haven’t, perchance, had one of your Captains bring back any new plants for me…?”
The Duke of Elbury was an avid horticulturalist, and was fascinated by the exotic flowers of the tropics.
“Sadly, Your Grace, no. There are no ships due for some months yet, which have been to places where they may have obtained anything of interest to you. All of our recent cargoes have been rather dull, from your point of view – fabrics, spices, wines and exotic timbers, mostly.”
“Ah well, a man can hope. Do, please, bring any exotic plant which might eventually arrive to me, before offering it to anyone else.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
Gabriel found the Duke’s choice of words rather ironic, so closely did they echo his own thoughts about hope, just a few minutes earlier. They lapsed into silence as Dillingham arrived, escorting Lady Primrose back to her family. Gabriel watched as Dillingham bowed, and politely thanked her, before turning away in search of his friends. Lady Primrose smiled at the man, making Gabriel clench his teeth, but once Dillingham had gone, she turned to her father and sisters, the smile vanishing.
“Why do they all think that I care anything for how clever they think they are? That man has no conversation worth considering. He knows nothing about art, and has no interest in ever travelling beyond England’s shores – can you imagine how dull his life must be?”
Gab
riel felt his heart lurch – he did not think that he would necessarily stand up all that well to her high expectations – clever conversation was not his strong point – he was far more prone to being unforgivably blunt.
Still, he had committed to asking, so he would. He did not go back on his word, even to himself. He swallowed, clearing his throat, and Lady Primrose turned to him.
“Good evening Lady Primrose.”
He bowed, hoping that it was well enough done. Her eyes softened, meeting his, and she smiled again – a genuine smile, which warmed him like the rays of the summer sun.
“Oh, Mr Morton, I am so sorry that I have been remiss enough not to greet you! I hope that you will forgive my… aah… opinions, on Lord James. I tend to speak my thoughts all too easily.”
She blushed, and dropped her eyes from his for a moment. He felt the loss of that connection sharply. Then she looked up again, and he knew that he must speak now, or lose the chance.
“Lady Primrose, might I hope that you have a dance unclaimed? That, if it is so, I might have the honour of dancing with you?”
There, it was said. Would she reject him? He waited, heart pounding, finding it suddenly difficult to breathe. Her eyes widened, and then her smile broadened, her eyes sparkling.
“I do, indeed, have a dance available. This one, in fact.”
The first strains of music reached his ears as she spoke, and unable to believe his luck, he offered her his arm. She placed her hand upon it, and he led her away. It was a waltz, he realised, startled, and very pleased. They took their place amongst the other couples, and he turned her into his arms, feeling as if he moved in a dream – a very pleasant dream.
Behind them, Lady Violet Gardenbrook turned to Lady Iris Gardenbrook with a raised eyebrow, then leant to whisper in her sister’s ear.
“Did you see Lord Helmcot’s face just then? I am quite sure that Primrose had actually promised this dance to him. But she just threw him over for Mr Morton, without a second glance. Surely she didn’t forget? It must have been intentional… which means…”
A Diamond for a Duke : Book 4: Camellia: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 18