Regency Fire
A REGENCY ROMANCE SERIES
BRIDGET BARTON
Contents
Copyright
Free Exclusive Gift
The Duke and the Stolen Bride
The Lord she could not Trust
The Lord and the Attorney’s Niece
The Lord, The Lady, and a Time to Choose
The Descendants and a Time of Hope
A Governess for the Brooding Duke
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Bridget Barton
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The Duke and the Stolen Bride
Book 1
Introduction
Upon the death of his father, Gabriel Farrington finds himself suddenly the new Duke of Calgarth. And filling his father’s shoes will be no simple task. The family has been at war with Cornelius Cunningham, the Duke of Horndean, for three decades, and it was the old Duke’s dying wish that Gabriel continue the feud with ever more enthusiasm.
Still, Gabriel has four brothers to help keep the flag of the Duchy of Calgarth flying high, and he expects each and every one of them to take his part.
Keen to lead the way, Gabriel determines to steal away the fiancé of Lord Richard Cunningham, the son of the Earl of Horndean. Lady Evelyn Godfrey, daughter of the Earl of Gorton, is beautiful and intelligent and only marrying Lord Cunningham to save her family’s floundering estate.
Initially cynical in his approach to Evelyn, Gabriel soon finds himself falling for her. As Evelyn finds her attraction to the Duke of Calgarth growing, she begins to wonder at his motives. With the flames of the feud burning ever brighter, Evelyn must decide whether she should trust Gabriel or follow the wishes of her father. And Gabriel must decide which is more important to him; the feud or his own happiness.
Chapter One
“I really wish you would be serious about these things, brother.” Gabriel Farrington, the Duke of Calgarth, strode over to the drinks trolley and poured himself a large brandy.
“Oh, I’m serious enough about it, Gabriel, but I really do not think a wedding is the time and place to stoke the fires of a feud. We have had many years before now, and we have many years into the future if that is what we wish to do. It is my opinion that it might be rather fun to simply attend the wedding for the sake of it and to hell with the Cunninghams.” Hugh Farrington, Gabriel’s younger brother, sighed with exasperation.
“That is the thing with feuds, Hugh. They do not take rests, brother. And I am certain that the Cunninghams shall not be talking in such a defeated manner.” Gabriel drained his brandy in two large gulps, put the empty glass down onto the drinks trolley with a thump, and continued to pace the room.
“I just do not understand quite what evil manoeuvre the Cunninghams might make at the wedding of Lord and Lady Borden’s eldest daughter.” Hugh spread his hands wide and shook his head slowly. “I am not suggesting you should take your eye off them, Gabriel, I am simply saying that I do not see that there is any real plan for us to make in this instance. Would it not be wiser to simply attend the wedding, wish the happy couple all the best in the world, eat copious amounts of food, and finally return home? After all, might that not be just exactly what the Cunninghams intend to do?”
“They never sit idle, Hugh,” Gabriel said, his pale blue-grey eyes narrowing to slits as he regarded his brother. “And you make it sound like open warfare. It is very much more subtle than that, my dear chap.”
“Do tell,” Hugh said, giving every appearance of growing bored with the subject.
“There will be great swathes of society in attendance at this wedding, Hugh, and the Cunninghams will no doubt see it as an opportunity to strengthen their connections with other aristocratic families and spread lies and rumours as they have done in the past. It all makes a difference, Hugh, and one can never look away from them, not even for a moment. Let us not forget poor dear Aunt Verity.”
Gabriel knew it was a stretch. Poor dear Aunt Verity had died before any of them were born. Over the years, she had become less of a person and more of a mascot. She had become the justification for the continuation of hostilities between two of the most powerful families in the rugged landscape of the North of England.
“Gabriel, what happened to Aunt Verity was, without a doubt, a terrible tragedy.”
“It was not a tragedy, Hugh. It was tantamount to murder. Have you already forgotten everything that father taught us?” In truth, Gabriel felt no more for the loss of Aunt Verity than his brother. She was simply a part of the tale that had been told to them over and over again. She was a part of their story rather than a part of their hearts.
“No, I have not,” Hugh said, his voice low and his head bowed. He sat back in his chair, seemingly determined to say not one more word.
“Let us not argue about it, brother.” Gabriel forced a more convivial tone. He had insulted his younger brother unnecessarily, and he knew it. They had all been raised with the same values by the same father, and Gabriel knew that his pale suggestion that Hugh had disrespected the last Duke of Calgarth had been unjustified.
When Hugh remained silent, Gabriel stopped his determined pacing and finally took a seat. The drawing room at Calgarth Hall was likely the most well-appointed in the Duchy. The entire room had a wonderful light all day long, due largely to the immense arched windows which fully lined two of the walls. The windows were almost floor to ceiling height and afforded an uninterrupted view of the grounds of their vast estate.
The drapes were made from sumptuous golden coloured velvet, and the great scalloped pelmets ran the full length of the windowed walls. The wooden window frames were painted so very white that they stood out in bright contrast to the gold of the drapes and the pale lemon of the walls.
The room was so vast that it was possible for a number of conversations to take place without any party feeling interrupted by another. There were couches and beautifully upholstered chairs set about in groups, creating areas of separation which the family had found very useful over the years.
On that day, Gabriel and his brother had been occupying the far end of the sitting room, entirely out of earshot of their mother who was arranging an enormous vase of flowers on a table at the other end. For all she could have heard of the conversation of her sons, she might as well have been in another room altogether.
Hugh was sitting in the chair closest to the fire, and finally, Gabriel took to the couch facing him. It was clear to anyone who cared to look that the two men were brothers, so alike were they. In fact, all five of the old Duke of Calgarth’s sons were very similarly
handsome. They all had pale hair and eyes, but tanned skins which spoke greatly of outdoor pursuits.
But perhaps Gabriel Farrington was the most intense looking of the five brothers. Of course, he had always been set to succeed his father as the Duke of Calgarth one day, and the importance of such a title had been impressed upon him almost from the moment he had begun to understand speech.
Gabriel had been quietly devastated by the death of his father just six months before and had taken on his new role with staid pride and deep solemnity. So keen was Gabriel to honour his father in all ways, it often seemed as if the great man were still alive and watching.
Wentworth Farrington had died suddenly at just five and fifty years, making Gabriel the Duke of Calgarth at only thirty. Something about his father’s sudden demise had made Gabriel keener than ever to throw fire into the long-standing feud between the Farringtons and the Cunninghams, and keener still to find victories for his father in all his dealings with them.
Whilst the feud itself had been bloodless, it had always been most bitter.
“Hugh, I should not have said what I said. I know you honour our dear father every day, and it was wrong of me to suggest otherwise.” Finally, Gabriel had to give in. If he did not, he would find himself the enemy of his younger brother for many weeks to come. Being so close in age, the two had always been close allies. But it was the sort of closeness that could end in deep disagreements and bitterness that carried on far beyond its natural life.
“Yes, Gabriel, it was wrong of you,” Hugh said, and for a moment, Gabriel thought they would get nowhere. “But I accept your apology, brother.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said. He rose from his seat and stretched to his full height before sweeping the great tails of his black coat out to the side and sitting down again.
“So, you believe that the Cunninghams are going to use the Borden wedding as a means of securing support?” Hugh said, playing his part in things.
“I do. It is a constant battle, is it not?”
“Indeed,” Hugh said, flatly. “And what is it that you propose we ourselves do at this wedding?”
“We need to simply keep a watch on them. Particularly since there will be several bankers in attendance.”
“What have bankers to do with the thing?” Hugh said, screwing his face up a little as he thought.
“We need to see which of them the Cunninghams spend the most time with. If, indeed, they spend any at all.”
“But why?”
“I am keen to get a good map of which banks the Cunninghams are using. I want to find out who they keep money with and who they borrow money from. I want to know where their weaknesses lie.” Gabriel seemed suddenly more intense than ever, perching on the edge of his seat, every muscle in his body taut.
“Right, I see,” Hugh said, clearly unable to see the real point of it all.
“Because, Hugh, that is exactly what they will be doing to us.” Gabriel relaxed again. “They will be gathering whatever information they can about us. We use a number of banks, of course, and they all promise discretion. And yet, there is not one among them who can be trusted. It is time for us to gather the same amount of information on the Cunninghams as they undoubtedly have been gathering on us.” Gabriel looked at Hugh and could see that he still could find little object in the exercise. “Hugh, I do not yet know what we shall do with that information. It is just better that we have it. It is better that we know all we should know about our enemy. Perhaps then we shall know when they are ready to strike.”
“But they haven’t in years, Gabriel. Why this sudden resurrection of things? I mean, I know the two families are sworn enemies, but the fight seems to have lain dormant for so long.”
“Yes, it has.” Their mother appeared suddenly, startling both young men. “And I would wish it to remain so,” she said, sadly.
Daphne Farrington, the Dowager Duchess of Calgarth, had seen more than enough of the feud between the families over the years. As her husband lay on his death bed, Daphne had privately urged him to release his five sons from the burden of so destructive a legacy and let them get on with happy lives in a well-run Duchy. However, his bitterness ran so deep that he had refused to relinquish it, even in his final hours, and even at the pleading of a most beloved wife.
In the end, rather than release his sons from the obligation of continuing, he had urged them on in his name. He had, with his last breath, condemned his sons to a lifetime of renewed feuding in the name of a woman they had never known.
“But can you not both see that Father’s death has changed things? The feud is intensified simply because the Duke of Horndean rejoices in the death of his old adversary and thinks I, the new Duke, too young and inexperienced to see the thing through. Cornelius Cunningham likely thinks that we are weakened by our loss and will see this as a chance in which to have victory over us once and for all.” Gabriel had not told them that this was the very sentiment his father had parted with in his final moments. Wentworth Farrington had been determined that the battle go on, and even more determined that his eldest son should do everything in his power to continue on the path of vengeance, never once letting go.
Gabriel could see that he was reaching his younger brother to some degree, but his mother would have none of it.
“If one side would simply refuse to engage, then surely the feud dies,” Daphne said, sadly shaking her head as she knew she was wasting her carefully chosen words.
“Mother, I must carry out Father’s wishes, as well you know,” Gabriel said, almost sadly. His mother was a beloved woman who had raised her sons to be kind and considerate young men of intelligence and wit. She had succeeded in every way but yet could do nothing to dissolve the poison that their father had tipped into their hearts for so long. It was almost as if her sons had no choice in the thing; no will to see things differently. The sad thing was that Daphne strongly suspected that things were little different in the lives of the Cunningham offspring.
Truly boiled down, the feud had been between just two men. Cornelius Cunningham, the Duke of Horndean, and Wentworth Farrington, the Duke of Calgarth. And yet, with one of the protagonists now dead, the feud looked set not only to continue but to rage like the flames of a continually stoked fire.
With a sigh, Daphne smiled sadly and left her two eldest sons to their plots and schemes. Nothing was going to change that day.
Chapter Two
The wedding ceremony of Lord and Lady Borden’s unfortunate looking daughter barely touched Gabriel Farrington. In truth, he had heard not one word that the reverend had uttered in the church. Instead, Gabriel contented himself by staring intently at Richard Cunningham.
Lord Richard Cunningham was the son of the incumbent Earl of Horndean. Being of the same age, and both having attended Eton, there had always been a most particular rivalry between the two men. Both had been raised to despise the other, and there had been not one civil word passed between them throughout all their years of schooling at Eton.
Gabriel had always felt himself to have the upper hand, always having been vastly more popular with the other young men at school. Richard had been seen by many to have a most unusual personality, and his manners certainly did not recommend him to anybody. In many ways, Gabriel had mourned the loss of his school days when they came to an end because the perpetual victory of his popularity was something that had always made his father pleased and proud.
Gabriel also knew himself to be the more handsome of the two men, being as tall and as broad as a farmhand but with the refinement of dress and bearing of the aristocrat. Gabriel’s hair was a most unusual shade of blond, being almost the colour of ash. Although he knew his hair to have already started to gray at the temples, it was certainly well disguised by the already silvery quality of his natural hue.
Gabriel’s eyes were a most unusual blue-grey colour, and he was perfectly well aware that many a young lady had stared hopefully into them over the years, almost mesmerised. His looks and his seemi
ng power over the hearts of young ladies was something that Gabriel had discreetly used to his own advantage over the years, and it had given him little reason, thus far, to wed.
The wedding feast, held in the rather too extravagant home of Lord and Lady Borden, was characteristically overdone. There was table upon table of food that there quite simply was not time, nor enough people, to eat. Of course, Lord and Lady Borden were nothing if not terribly fashionable, and the current fashion was always to display one’s wealth on such occasions. Purposely providing vastly more food than was necessary was simply a facet of that particular fashion.
“Thus far, brother, I have not seen either Richard or Cornelius Cunningham speak to any of the bankers. Have you?” Hugh said and seemed keen suddenly to help his older brother after their disagreement of just days before.
“No, and yet I had very much expected to see such conversations taking place. I have heard whispers of fresh mining seams, you see, and with our lands being so very close to the Duchy of Horndean, I have the greatest interest in it all,” Gabriel said, feeling rather like he had been thwarted in some way by the Cunninghams. Almost as if they knew what he was looking for and were determined that he should not see it. Whatever the reason, it only made Gabriel more determined.
“And in matters of land, brother, we already know the Cunninghams are not to be trusted,” Hugh said, absently following his older brother’s gaze. “I say, I think you make a little too close a study of Richard Cunningham. Sooner or later, it will draw notice.”
Regency Romance Collection: Regency Fire: The Historical Regency Romance Complete Series (Books 1-5) Page 1