by Wolf, Bree
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Book
Free gift
Prologue
Chapter One − Returning Home
Chapter Two − A Fateful Day
Chapter Three − London Awaits
Chapter Four − The Far Reaches of the Past
Chapter Five − Friends Reunited
Chapter Six − Hiding in Plain Sight
Chapter Seven − An Echo of the Past
Chapter Eight − Turning Over a New Page
Chapter Nine − Not in the Nick of Time
Chapter Ten − The Fittings of an Old Life
Chapter Eleven − A Word Given
Chapter Twelve − Happiness Awaits
Chapter Thirteen − A Wrong Step
Chapter Fourteen − A Natural Consequence
Chapter Fifteen − One Day in Paris
Chapter Sixteen − A Wicked Curse
Chapter Seventeen − Grandmamma Clarice
Chapter Eighteen − Whose Wedding Day?
Epilogue
Overview A Forbidden Love Novella Series
Also By Bree
Overview Love's Second Chance Series
Read a Sneak-Peek of
Prologue
About Bree
The Spinster
(#4 Ladies of Miss Bell's Finishing School)
by Bree Wolf
The Spinster
by Bree Wolf
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, brands, media, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Art by Victoria Cooper
Copyright © 2019 Sabrina Wolf
www.breewolf.com
All Rights Reserved
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To Friendship
Friends come and go
But true friends are like family
Acknowledgements
A great, big thank-you to my dedicated beta readers and proofreaders, Eris Hydras, Michelle Chenoweth, Monique Takens and Kim Bougher, who read the rough draft and help me make it better.
Also a heartfelt thank-you to all my wonderful readers who pick up book after book and follow me on these exciting adventures of love and family. I love your company and savor every word of your amazing reviews! Thank you so much! There are no words!
About the Book
A wild lady. A wicked curse.
And a love torn apart by tragedy.
MISS JOHANNA GREY's wild youth ends abruptly when her best friend−and betrothed−falls to his death upon climbing the tree outside her window. Heartbroken and unable to forgive herself, she retreats to Miss Bell's Finishing School for Young Ladies.
Until London calls four years later, and Johanna finds herself swept into a world of matchmakers and schemers, pressured to find a husband. Will it be kind-hearted Lord Kenwood, a man who reminds her of the friend she lost that fateful day long ago? Or perhaps COLIN GRENVILLE, a young man from her past, who has loved her for as long as he can remember?
For years, Colin stayed away, travelling the world, but now that Johanna has returned to London, he finds himself drawn back to England. Will he reach her in time before she chooses the wrong man? Or will fate never be on their side?
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Prologue
Bath, England 1814 (or a variation thereof)
Leaving the grounds of Miss Bell’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, Miss Johanna Grey, daughter to Baron Rawdon, and her three friends walked down the street and towards Sydney Gardens. As their last day in Bath was fast approaching, they were all torn between eagerness to begin a new chapter in their lives as well as utter sadness to leave behind those who had become more than friends in the past four years.
“You seem quiet, Jo,” Penelope observed, her blue eyes narrowing as her gaze swept over her. “Is something wrong?”
Johanna sighed, “I’m not certain how I feel about returning home. I don’t know what…to do. A London season seems less desirable than it did a year ago.”
“Oh, it’s only nerves,” Caroline interjected reasonably, her soft, yet watchful eyes assessing the situation. “It’s the unknown.”
Jo shrugged. “I’m not sure I even want to get married.”
All three girls drew to an abrupt halt, the looks on their faces suggesting that Jo had lost her mind.
“What?” Adelaide exclaimed, brushing a raven-black strand behind her ear.
“Why ever not?” Penelope demanded. “That was the plan. We all agreed, remember?”
Nodding, Jo sighed.
Indeed, they had all agreed to marry for love. At the time, it had seemed like such a life-changing declaration as though they were indeed masters of their own fate. All they had to do was decide what they wanted. Now, however, doubts had begun to creep into Jo’s thoughts as she reminded herself that if Owen had lived, she would never have been in any position to choose.
Was she supposed to feel sad that he had died? Was it all right to feel relieved that his death had freed her from a promise her parents had made for her? Could she possibly feel both?
“You don’t have to decide now,” Caroline counselled, her dark, gentle eyes watching Jo carefully. “Take your time and see where it leads you.”
Penelope nodded in agreement. “And you won’t be alone,” she reminded her. “We may part ways now, but soon we shall see each other again in London.”
Adelaide’s eyes darkened, and Jo detected a slight quiver in her chin. “I’m sorry, Addy,” Jo said, pulling her friend’s arm through the crook of hers. “I’m sure you’ll be able to come visit us in London.” Unlike the other three, Adelaide had no family or fortune to assure her a place among London society. In fact, about a month ago, she had announced that she had accepted a governess position in Yorkshire.
Although they ought to have expected such a development, neither one of them had been happy to hear that Adelaide would not accompany them to London.
“I suppose you’re right, Caroline,” Jo finally said, unable to explain the feeling of dread that had grown in the pit of her stomach for the past few weeks. With each day that brought her closer to the moment she would once more set foot in Holten Park, Jo had begun to dream of the day that had ended her youth and seen her banished to Miss Bell’s Finishing School for Young Ladies.
Four years had passed since then.
But to Jo, it still seemed like only yesterday.
Chapter One − Returning Home
Bundled up in her warmest coat, Jo touched her forehead to the chilled window of the carriage that was to take her home.
Home to Holten Park.
Her family’s country estate.
The place of a happy childhood.
As well as the greatest tragedy of Jo’s young life.
Snow swirled through the air and lay in heaps and mounds all around her as the carriage fought its way onward. Heaving a deep sigh, Jo glanced at the dim outlines of a world that had once been as familiar to her as the back of her hand. Countless days, her feet had carried her through
the tall-stemmed grass in summer and across the iced-over lake in winter. She had climbed trees and found her way through thorny bushes. On rare occasions, she had even dared to swim in the lake, enjoying the cooling water against her heated skin.
Wild, her grandmother had called her, an amused twinkle in the old lady’s eyes.
Johanna’s mother had preferred the term unruly, her straight nose rising in haughty displeasure whenever she’d caught her daughter in a less than lady-like situation.
Still, to this day, Lady Rawdon was not aware of even half of the unsuitable activities Johanna had undertaken whenever she had climbed out of her window and run off to find another adventure. Jo much preferred it this way.
Four years had passed since the day of the tragedy.
Four years that Jo had spent away from home and at school where she was to learn suitable behaviour fit for a young lady as her mother had phrased it. The tragedy had been the final straw, and so Lady Rawdon had sent her fourteen-year-old daughter to Miss Bell’s Finishing School for Young Ladies, hoping and praying that for once Johanna would do as she was told.
Four years had passed since then, and Johanna had done her utmost to please her mother and become the accomplished, young woman Lady Rawdon had always wanted her to be. After all, if she had been that young woman from the first, Owen would still be alive today.
Out of the corner of her eye, Jo caught sight of Holten Park, a stately manor with the old charm of an ancient castle. Snow covered its roof and lay draped over the grounds like a blanket. Ice crystals grew at the edges of the many windows allowing in the sparkling light of a sunny winter’s day. It was a peaceful sight, always had been, and yet, Jo could not keep a painful knot from forming in her belly.
Glancing across the seat at the rotund and currently-snoring woman Lady Rawdon had sent to escort her daughter from Bath back to Holten Park, Jo smiled, feeling a renewed sense of adventure stir in her blood.
In the past four years, she had barely felt it. Perhaps it was this place that reminded her of the young girl she had once been. The young girl she had buried with Owen.
The young girl that seemed to have survived somewhere deep inside her.
The moment the carriage pulled to a halt outside the snow-covered front steps, Jo pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders and then opened the door before the footman had any chance of approaching. Feeling the cold winter’s air touch her cheeks, she breathed in deeply and then hopped to the ground in a very unlady-like fashion, her booted feet sinking into the snow.
Excitement bubbled up in her blood, and a familiar smile claimed her features.
“Miss−”
Spinning around to face Mr. Carter, the coachman, Jo put a finger to her lips, bidding him to remain silent.
All but rolling his eyes, Mr. Carter looked at her, the faint traces of a smile coming to his face as he sighed. His hair had gone grey since she had last seen him, but his blue eyes still twinkled with the same understanding Jo had often seen there before.
After giving him a quick smile, Jo dashed away, rounding the house from the west, her feet carrying her through the deep snow. With each step, her limbs grew heavier and wetness seeped through the skirts. Still, Jo’s cheeks shone with eagerness, and she could not remember having felt this alive in the past four years.
Craning her head, Jo looked over her shoulder before she stepped onto the terrace, carefully picking her way across the frozen ground to the double-winged doors. Her heart beat fast in her chest, and old memories stirred, urging her on. Her fingers reached out to touch the silver handle, and she held her breath as her hand closed around it, pushing it downward.
With a silent creak, the door slid open and a welcoming warmth washed over Johanna’s chilled skin. Quickly, she cast a look around the empty drawing room, then stepped inside, her heart delighting in the small puddles her feet left behind on the hardwood floor.
Jo knew that her mother would be in fits once she found out that her daughter had sneaked into the house like a common thief instead of entering through the front door and greeting her parents as any good daughter would. Still, in that moment, Jo could not deny the little girl she had kept silent for four long years.
Brushing her boots off on the Persian rug, Jo silently crossed the room and leaned her head against the door. When all remained quiet, she stepped out into the hall and did her best to move stealthily as she listened for sounds of someone approaching.
As though to welcome her home, no one crossed her path and Jo hastened up the stairs to her old bedchamber without a look back. Laughter tickled the back of her throat, and she clamped her lips shut, lest it spill forth and alert someone.
Only when the door was firmly closed behind her did Jo exhale the breath she had been holding, a large smile claiming her face as her eyes swept over the room that still looked as it always had, as though she had never been gone from Holten Park.
Her bed had been freshly made, sheets of lilac and violet warming the room, a stark contrast to the snow-covered treetops visible through the three large windows opening to the east. The wood was a dark mahogany, but thin and elegantly carved, giving the room a feminine touch. Two large shelves were filled with books about distant worlds and adventures that could be had for real if only one had not been born a woman.
To Lady Rawdon’s dismay, her daughter much preferred the written word to more lady-like pastimes such as drawing and embroidery. During her stay at Miss Bell’s, Jo had made an honest effort to master these qualities so highly regarded not only by her mother but society at large. Still, to this day, her fingers seemed to be possessed by a will of their own whenever she picked up a brush or a needle. Nothing good had ever resulted from these endeavours, and by now, Jo knew that nothing ever would.
“I thought I’d find you here, my dear.”
Chapter Two − A Fateful Day
At the sound of her beloved grandmother’s voice, Jo spun around, her gaze wide as it fell on the thin, frail-looking woman who had been Jo’s tower of strength all her life. “Grandmamma!” she exclaimed, rushing toward the upholstered armchair where she had spent many rainy days curled up with one of her darling books.
Struggling to her feet, her grandmother stepped toward her, opening her arms. “I admit I half-expected you to climb in through the window.”
Surging into her grandmother’s embrace, Jo felt familiar arms close around her, holding her tightly. “Oh, how I missed you!” Tears stung her eyes, and she held on to the old woman with an almost desperate need.
“I missed you as well, my dear. Now, let me look at you.” Stepping back, her grandmother cupped her wrinkled hands to Jo’s face, her pale blue eyes gliding over every dimple, every furrow, every sign that would speak of her granddaughter’s state of mind. “You look well,” she observed, and yet, the hint of a question clung to her voice.
Johanna cleared her throat and pushed her shoulders back. “I am well, Grandmamma. How are you?” Shrugging out of her coat, Johanna dropped it onto the chair.
“As well as can be expected.” Shrugging, the dowager baroness sighed, her watchful eyes never leaving Johanna’s face. “Are you happy to be home?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Johanna felt her gaze drawn to the window. “I’m not certain,” she whispered as her feet stepped away, carrying her closer to the ice frosted glass.
Outside the window stood the tall ash tree, its branches reaching high up into the sky. Countless times, Jo had used it as a gateway to freedom. Countless times, her mother had threatened to have it chopped down. Countless times, her father had sighed and shaken his head, ignoring his wife’s anger as well as his daughter’s rebellious acts.
“His family has not been back here since…”
Although her grandmother’s voice trailed off, Jo could not help but add, the tragedy. Would she ever be able to look at this tree and not see Owen’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground below?
Jo doubted it. “Sometimes I wonder what he would have looke
d like today,” she whispered, her eyes distant as she remembered the boy she had known. At sixteen, Owen had been almost a man, and yet, to Jo, he would always and forever remain her childhood friend.
Warm hands settled on her arms as her grandmother came to stand beside her. “He was a wonderful boy, and he would have grown up into a good man.”
Johanna nodded, unable to remember a time in her life when Owen had not been by her side.
Their mothers had been close friends since childhood and had found husbands, who coincidentally owned neighbouring estates in the country. Both had given birth to a son within months of one another. However, while Owen had thrived, Johanna’s older brother John had always been sickly. He had passed on not one year after his birth.
When Johanna had come along, hope had returned to their small circle, and determined to cling to happiness as well as one another, their mothers had hedged a plan to see their families united always. From the day she had been born, Johanna had been intended to be Owen’s bride, and they had grown up with the knowledge that they were to be husband and wife.
As young children, they had merely laughed whenever their mothers had raised the topic. As they grew older, there had been a time when they had openly resisted the union, causing their mothers a lot of heartache. Still, it had been that rebellion that had united Johanna and Owen for good.
“In your letters, you never asked about his family,” her grandmother stated, a hint of caution in her voice. “I wasn’t certain if I ought to mention them to you.”
Glancing down at her grandmother, Jo sighed, “I tried not to think about him.” Only too well did she remember the way her heart used to clench painfully whenever her thoughts had strayed to the boy with the easy smile and brilliant blue eyes. Too many days she had spent crying over his loss, reminding herself that nothing would ever bring him back.