Lord James and his bride (The Duke's Brothers Book 1)

by Fiona Miers

  With a weary sigh she approached the wooden table in the hallway, close to the front door of the townhouse. There, she noticed a small stack of letters that had obviously been delivered. Most of the messages were addressed to Mrs. Roth. Abigail assumed they were either from her physician or concerned friends and distant relatives wishing to know how she was faring.

  But one letter in particular looked different from the rest. Her hand reached for it, and amazingly, it was addressed to her.

  She turned to Dotty, who happened to pass her by in the hallway at that moment. “Dotty, were these letters delivered this morning?”

  “Indeed, they were. Is something the matter?”

  “No, everything is fine. Thank you, Dotty.”

  The maid nodded and continued along the hallway.

  Abigail picked the letter up slowly. She didn’t recognise the penmanship and turned it over. Her fingertip lightly grazed over the blue seal, with an unknown crest embedded in the hard wax.

  Her interest piqued, she glanced at her mother through the open door, who was still seated at the breakfast table, sipping her tea, seemingly lost in thought.

  Abigail stepped away, out of her mother’s line of sight. She opened the letter and her eyes widened as she saw the name at the bottom of the invitation.

  Lord James Melton.

  Her heart began to pound wildly in her chest as she read his words. He had started the letter by apologising once more for the manner in which they had met one another, adding that he did not make a habit of rescuing women in the nude. His words made Abigail smile and her stomach fluttered with every sentence she finished.

  Her eyes widened once more and her jaw dropped. James had invited her to join him for a soiree. One that his brother, the Duke of Waign, was hosting at his estate several days later. Abigail blinked once then twice, certain her eyes played tricks on her.

  What possible reason was there behind this invitation? Was James inviting her because he felt guilty and this was a means to apologise properly to her?

  She couldn’t accept the invitation. The duke was a noble man, of an aristocratic family. His guests would be of similar social standing.

  She couldn’t go into the duke’s home with a group of nobles. They would make her feel totally inadequate. It had happened before in the past, and she’d vowed she’d never place herself willingly into such a situation again.

  “Abigail?”

  The sound of her mother’s voice behind her made her jump, and she quickly closed the letter. She didn’t wish for her mother to see it, as she would force Abigail to accept James’ invitation.

  She attempted to hide the letter from Mrs. Roth in the folds of her skirts.

  “Yes, Mother?”

  “What do you have there?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed, and her brows drew together.

  “Nothing at —”

  Before she was even able to complete her sentence, Mrs. Roth pointed to the corner of the letter, which protruded from her skirt. “I am not blind, Abigail.”

  She sighed but kept a grip on the paper, unwilling to relinquish it. “It is a letter.”

  “I can see that.”

  “It is addressed to me.”

  “And who sent it?”

  When Abigail hesitated, her mother reached over and retrieved it from the folds of her skirt and opened it. Her mother’s face lit up and her eyes sparkled with excitement.

  “Oh, how wonderful,” Mrs. Roth said, and a smile formed on her lips. “Why in heavens did you think to hide this from me?”

  “I was not certain whether you would allow me to attend. In fact, I am not even certain I wish to attend,” Abigail said.

  Her mother stared at her, then shook her head. “Nonsense. Why would you wish to reject his invitation? He is the brother of the Duke of Waign, a very influential and important man in these parts. It is an honour to be in the presence of him and his lovely wife.”

  Abigail sighed. “I do realise this, mother, but I’m not certain I’m in the right frame of mind to be around people of such status. I don’t wish for them to look down on me and think I am trying to be someone I’m not. I will feel out of place there.”

  “Nonsense. You possess as much grace and poise as any noblewoman,” Mrs. Roth said as she fobbed off Abigail’s worries, then gently nudged her up the stairs. “Dotty!”

  Dotty appeared in the hall, her brow furrowed. “Yes, Mrs. Roth? Is everything all right?”

  “Everything is more than all right, but I require your assistance in Abigail’s bedchamber,” her mother said.

  Abigail trudged into her room, followed closely by a panicked Dotty. Mrs. Roth immediately started rummaging through her wardrobe.

  “Mother, what in heaven’s name are you doing?”

  Her mother began to place Abigail’s gowns on her bed, muttering to herself in disapproval. Abigail and Dotty simply stared at her, and Abigail wondered whether her mother had lost her mind.

  “None of these will do.”

  “Mother?”

  Mrs. Roth glanced at Abigail and pursed her lips briefly. “The blue one will work the best. It will bring out your eyes. We must simply alter it accordingly, to show off your best features. Dotty, please do assist Abigail into the blue gown.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Roth,” Dotty said.

  Abigail sighed and let Dotty help her change dresses. Her mother was on a mission to ensure that she would look her absolute best for not only James, but for the Duke and Duchess, as well as their guests at the soiree.

  There was no point in fighting her mother on this. She would not win.

  But that didn’t stop Abigail from feeling nervous. She hadn’t attended a formal gathering, or any social gathering for that matter, in more than a year. She did not wish to be reminded of that time either.

  However, thinking of James made this looming ordeal seem less than terrible.

  It would be lovely to see him again, and she was certain he would make her feel as comfortable as he possibly could. It was a rather strange thing for her to feel such hope towards a man she had only met once. But as she thought back to the brief moments when they had stared at one another while in the water, the waves lapping around them, she recalled the scintillating attraction between them.

  She turned her attention to her reflection in the mirror and a small smile formed on her lips. A sparkle appeared in her eyes and her heart began to pound in her chest once more, the same way it had when James stared intently at her.

  “What do you think, Abigail?” Mrs. Roth asked, wrapping soft blue fabric around Abigail’s shoulders.

  “It is perfect, Mother. Simply perfect,” Abigail answered.

  Chapter Seven

  James narrowed his eyes as he stared at the papers sprawled across the Duke’s desk. Upon his brother’s insistence, James had decided to research Abigail’s lineage. Charles was well connected with people who were able to track down documents of nobility, and the information had arrived that morning, the morning of the soiree at the estate.

  However, the Duke’s unofficial informant had told James a tale of Abigail, which was not cited in the documents on the desk.

  Of course, James had understood why his brother insisted upon the research. Charles wished him to be informed as to the kind of woman Abigail was, and what type of family had raised her. Although James had found it rather intrusive, he agreed with his brother. He knew nothing of this young woman, and he did not wish to bring someone to his brother’s home who was not a good fit.

  A good fit according to society, and a good fit according to James were most certainly not the same thing. James had gotten used to a different way of life when he was in the service, and he didn’t rate a person’s integrity and intellect by the title or the wealth of his family. There were much more important things about a person to focus on, such as character. But he did understand Charles’ need to protect his family.

  She was indeed the niece of the Earl of Somerset, and her mother had received r
egular financial donations from the earl since Mr. Roth passed, which was understandable. Her grandfather had been tied to numerous wealthy and influential families, which included the Duchess of Canterbury and the Marquess of Delmont.

  While not very prestigiously placed with respect to lineage, Abigail’s family was well-respected. Her four sisters were all married to lords, barons, and earls, and initially James found it odd that she was not married herself. She was the middle daughter, and from what he’d been taught, daughters usually married in the order in which they were born, unless there were extenuating circumstances.

  James suspected there was nothing “usual” about Abigail.

  What he did not expect were the words of the duke’s investigator, Benedict, who told a more heartbreaking tale. Benedict spoke of Abigail’s engagement to Lord Timothy, an earl who resided in Bath and how he had ended their engagement.

  Furthermore, he spoke tales of Abigail that not only tainted her perfect reputation but also ruined her chances of ever being accepted into polite society again. She was shunned from her social circles and people whispered to one another as she passed them in the streets.

  There had been terrible things said of the lovely Abigail, and the jilted engagement had occurred when she was only twenty years of age. Whether the tales were true or not, he was unsure.

  He had been surprisingly happy when he received a letter from her mother, Mrs. Roth, stating they would accept his invitation to attend this evening. He also anticipated she would be even more beautiful than the last time he had seen her.

  Drenched in the ocean, wearing an unflattering bathing dress, she’d still been lovely. He suspected dressed in a lovely gown, she would be stunning.

  Which begged the question, why would the Earl break off their engagement? There had to be a reason other than the heinous things of which he’d accused her.

  A soft knock on the study’s door drew him back to the present and he glanced up from the documents. In the doorway, his youngest brother Thomas stood, bearing a bright grin.

  “Thomas,” James said and rose to his feet to greet his brother.

  “Am I interrupting?” Thomas asked.

  “Not in the least. I was merely...” James looked over his shoulder briefly at the desk but shook his head. “Nothing of importance. I was starting to think you would never arrive.”

  “Charles pointed out the same thing,” Thomas said before they embraced briefly.

  “You know Charles,” James said with a grin, a stickler for a schedule if there ever was one.

  “Indeed.” Thomas sighed, almost theatrically. “There was a bit of a delay in my travels.”

  “Who is she?”

  Thomas shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and shook his head. “No one worthy of mentioning.”

  James cringed and stepped away. “Nonetheless, I am delighted you arrived in time for this evening’s festivities. It would not have been the same without you.”

  “It would have been perfectly fine,” Thomas said, droll as ever. “But Charles would have given me an earful, that is for certain.”

  “Again, you know Charles.”

  “And I know you as well. You’re frowning and your jaw is clenched. What is bothering you?”

  James smiled at the concern in his brother’s voice. “Am I that transparent?”

  Thomas chuckled and shook his head. “I have known you my entire life, James. I know when there is something on your mind.”

  James sighed and approached that desk. “I met a delightful young woman on the beach a few days ago. Her mother was in distress and I went to their aid. She left a rather sizable impression on me, and I invited her to the estate this evening.”

  “And your concern is what, exactly?” Thomas asked, brushing his dark curls away from his face.

  “Charles insisted I research her lineage, not that it matters to me, but I found a few things that concerned me. Tales I heard of her from Benedict.”

  “And you will believe an investigator above the word of this young woman?”

  James shook his head. “I have only spoken to her once, and I don’t intend to ask her intrusive questions about her life. She barely knows me.”

  He couldn’t even imagine asking her such things. If they were false, it would be severely insulting to her.

  “And you barely know her, James.” Thomas reminded him.

  James frowned at his brother.

  Thomas scoffed. “I am certain this young woman has friends who know you, and our family as well. And simply because she may have heard tales of your indiscretions, does not mean she knows you. You should not allow the word of an informant or lineage documents to paint a picture of someone. You should get to know her. There was clearly a reason why you invited her to the estate.”

  “There was. There still is,” James said, nodding his head in agreement with everything his younger brother was saying.

  It was reasonable to assume that the information being given to him was false.

  “Remember the reason you wanted to, and ignore the apparent reasons you should not,” Thomas said and motioned to the documents on the desk.

  James smiled at his brother, love for his sibling filling his chest. “How is it that you are so young, but yet so wise?”

  Thomas shrugged his shoulders and shifted his weight. “Perhaps it is all the time I spend looking at the past and its marvels. My soul is much older than my body.”

  James chuckled, enjoying the levity Thomas brought to the conversation. “It would seem so.”

  Thomas flashed him a grin and nodded. “I do look forward to this evening and meeting this woman you invited.”

  James narrowed his eyes at his charming sibling. “I suggest you keep your distance, little brother.”

  Thomas’s grin was too cocky. “I would not dream of whisking her away, although I am sure I’d make her swoon with my fancy footwork on the dance floor. But that would not be fair, would it?”

  “Do not dare,” James said, because it was indeed true. Thomas was the best dancer of the four brothers and if given the opportunity, he would surely whisk Abigail away from him.

  Thomas’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement and they chuckled together.

  James was grateful that Thomas had encouraged him not to pay too much attention to what he had learned from Benedict. Perhaps it was all untruths.

  As the afternoon passed and the sun lowered in the sky, James, and the rest of the Melton brothers began to prepare for the soiree. Knowing Charles, James expected it to be nothing short of magnificent, as Charles was very particular about events he hosted. Everything had to be more than perfect, and why would it not be? He certainly had the resources to make anything possible.

  That was precisely James’ thought when he stepped into the large ballroom. The room was decorated elegantly with an abundance of white roses from the estate gardens. The terrace doors were open, allowing the cool breeze to freshen the air with the aromas of summer. There was a small orchestra set up in the corner of the room, and the dining table was placed parallel to the back wall, allowing the guests to see the orchestra regardless of where they were seated at the table.

  Emma and Thomas stood beside the terrace doors and motioned to James to join them.

  “Emma, you look magnificent,” James said, stepping up to his sister-in-law and kissing her knuckles briefly.

  “Thank you, James. You do clean up nicely as well,” Emma said with a genuine smile.

  “I take it Charles is still running around ensuring everything is running smoothly?” James asked.

  “Indeed. He looked deranged, dashing around with no rhyme or reason,” Emma said with a sigh.

  “As opposed to any other time?” Thomas chuckled and shook his head. “Pardon me for a moment.”

  Thomas left their side and Emma turned to him. “Are you anxious?”

  “Why on earth would I be anxious?” And why would his sister-in-law ask such a thing?

  “It’s the first social
event you’ve attended since your return from service. Also, you have invited a young woman as well.”

  “To be entirely truthful, I was not anxious until the moment you said those words, Emma,” James said with a cringe.

  The Duchess smiled knowingly. “I do apologise. I didn’t mean to dampen your mood. It is, however, a good thing for you to be among people. Especially now.”

  James narrowed his eyes at her. “The sounds of my nightmares travelled very far down the hallway, did they not?”

  He knew he shouted out in the night. He did not mean to, but he couldn’t control it.

  Emma smiled in reassurance and nodded. “What you are feeling is perfectly normal, James, but do not be afraid to share your horror with people, especially your brothers. They care for you very much.”

  “Thank you for the advice, Emma. And I do apologise if I am loud enough to wake you,” James said, adding the future tense because he almost certain his nightmares were not going away any time soon.

  “It is a welcome distraction from the screams inside my own head,” Emma said with a sadness that tugged at his heart.

  James opened his mouth to respond, but Emma nudged him against the arm and said, “Your guests have arrived.”

  James turned slowly as to not draw attention to himself, but as soon as he saw the lovely Abigail on the opposite side of the ballroom, his jaw dropped.

  The young woman looked even more beautiful than he remembered. In a well-fitting and much more flattering gown of blue that matched her eyes perfectly and her dark hair intricately pinned to the crown of her head, she looked rather extraordinary.

  James stepped forward slowly and realised with a start that his heart was pounding in his chest. His mouth was dry. He was not afraid to speak to women—unlike his younger brother Robert—but there was something about Abigail that made the task of speaking to her much more daunting.

  Was it perhaps the presence of Mrs. Roth, who scanned the ballroom and its guests with vigour?

  James silently scolded himself for the feelings of inadequacy he felt, and instead lifted his chin and marched across the room towards the lovely young woman and her mother.