by Ayles, Abby
Loving A Lady
A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Book
Abby Ayles
Copyright © 2018 by Abby Ayles
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
The Extended Epilogue
A Message from Abby
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Introduction
Noelle is the daughter of the Duke of Salisbury. As the eldest daughter, she is expected to marry a titled man of status and fulfill her duty. In fact, her parents plan for her to marry the Marquess of Fairfax. An eligible suitor but a dashing rogue of a man in reality.
Rodrick Edwards is a gentleman of means who lives on his wealthy uncle's estate. He has no title or high status, but none of it seem to be important in his life. He has all he needs next to his mother and cousin James - the Viscount of Easton - who dote on him dearly.
When Rodrick and Lady Noelle meet at a ball at the Duke of Salisbury's London home, they feel as if they've found their equal. However, it’s completely inappropriate, especially since Noelle is supposed to meet the Marquess of Fairfax for the first time there.
But what happens when the Marquess is nowhere to be seen? And how will Noelle react when she finds out that Rodrick is mysteriously connected with the Marquess of Fairfax, the man she is supposed to marry? Surely it is a coincidence…Or is it not?
Chapter 1
“May I borrow your gown?” Catherine asked Noelle, already standing in front of Noelle’s wardrobe, holding a lilac dress in front of herself. Being the eldest, Noelle had the largest bedchamber of the five Fletcher sisters. Also, being the eldest, Noelle had the most pressure thrust upon her.
She was the daughter for whom her parents worked the hardest. She was the daughter whose task it was to find a husband worthy of being the son-in-law to the Duke of Salisbury.
Her sister borrowing her dress was the least of her worries. Noelle nodded her head at Catherine. “See that you don’t ruin it,” she said with a playful, dimpled smile.
She envied Catherine – also known to her as Kitty – who was still young enough to be able to go off to balls just for fun. Ever since Noelle had reached her twenty-first birthday, her parents had been giving her looks that they never used to give her.
The Duke and Duchess of Salisbury were loving, caring parents who wanted their daughters to all marry well. Noelle knew that, and she knew who they had their eyes on, too.
Practically everyone in their social circle knew that her mother, in particular, admired a handsome and dashing young gentleman named Lord Alphonse Drake, the Marquess of Fairfax, for her daughter. Lord Drake was the son of the Duke of Cumberland, and as such, it was believed that he and Noelle would make a perfect match.
Her sisters, of course, all thought that it was terribly exciting. She, on the other hand, greatly disliked the idea of marrying some rich Lord So-And-So just for the sake of status and appearances. What Noelle truly wanted in her heart of hearts was to meet a gentleman in a proper way and fall in love.
Like Catherine very well might do. She had the freedom to do so.
Edith suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking quite shocked to find Kitty in the room, rummaging through Noelle’s wardrobe. The lady’s maid rushed right over and closed things back up.
“Milady,” she said to Noelle rather breathlessly, noticing that her lady was still lounging on her dais rather than getting ready for the ball. “The guests will be arriving in only a few hours. We can’t have you still sitting about and not in your gown.”
The maid was a short, slightly plump young woman with hair the color of wet straw worn up in a tight bun on her head. She wore a bourbon-colored frock with a white apron and matching white cap.
She’d been Noelle’s maid ever since the lady had come of age, so the two of them had been through many a London Season. “Really, Edith, I find the whole thing quite dull,” Noelle opined.
Edith gently shooed Catherine out of Noelle’s room, closing the door behind her. Kitty was so gleeful at securing her favorite gown that she didn’t mind being removed from the bedchamber. She got what she’d been after.
Noelle did her best not to smirk too noticeably as Edith rounded on her with another frazzled expression.
“Your mother is quite vexed,” she said, going back to the wardrobe and opening it up again, searching through the dresses for a suitable one. “The Viscount of Kent will be here any moment with your father. They’ve been out riding all morning.”
Pulling out a mint green gown with white lace on the sleeves and collar, she held it up for Noelle’s approval. The lady rolled her eyes and stood up from her dais. It didn’t matter which dress she wore; it wasn’t going to change the ball for her.
The men she met were all the same. Oh, how charming is Lady Noelle! How witty, gay, and amiable! A lot of good it ever did her. The sorts of men she met at these fetes were always pompous, arrogant, and older than her.
She stood still and let Edith undress her and put on the clean, fresh gown. This involved much loosening and then tightening of corsets. Noelle gazed at her reflection in the looking glass inside the tall, mahogany wardrobe.
Her thick, cinnamon hair was pinned up on her head in a high, curly presentation. It wouldn’t be coming down until the evening was at an end. She always felt that she was an artwork in a museum when she had her hair all done up like that.
Her blue eyes looked back at her, sad and a trifle nervous. It amazes me that I still get nervous about these situations, she thought. I could practically be the hostess at one of these balls myself.
Satisfied with her dress, Noelle gave a little nod to Edith and then the maid carefully applied some rouge and lip salve to her lady’s face, finishing it off with a few puffs of powder. “You’re a vision, milady,” she said with a smile. “The marquess won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.”
Noelle blushed a little, hoping that the rouge hid it somewhat. But Edith was her closest confidante. Surely the maid knew her feelings on the matter.
“I’ve never met the ma
n before,” she said. “I don’t know what he likes or what he’s like. So, I shan’t be getting my hopes up for this evening. Even if Mother does insist upon it.”
The Marquess of Fairfax knew Lady Noelle’s father. Everyone knew her father, it seemed. It was a wonder he hadn’t been placed in Parliament by virtue of his being everyone’s friend.
‘It’s not about who I know,’ he oft said. ‘It’s who knows who I know.’
Noelle didn’t know if it was going to matter that he knew the marquess. Lord Drake was known to many ladies and went to many balls each Season. How could she possibly be worth his attention when he already clearly had so many lady admirers?
“Don’t put yourself down, milady,” Edith said to her supportively. “I know that I’m biased, but you’re sure to be the loveliest lady there. I fully anticipate his enthusiasm for your meeting.”
Noelle smiled another dimpled smile at her. Edith carefully placed a cameo necklace around her slender neck, fastening the chain in place. This small gesture gave her a bit more confidence.
One thing that aided the situation for her was that the ball was to take place at her own house. The Fletchers were staying at their London townhouse for the Season, as they always did now that the elder daughters were of age.
As soon as Noelle and Edith left the room, they found Kitty twirling around in the lilac gown, practically buzzing. It was as if this was her first ball.
“What are you so excited about?” Noelle asked her sister. “Can’t wait to see the old viscount again?”
“Oh no, no,” Kitty said with a giggle. “Haven’t you heard? Mr. Charles Ingram is going to be here tonight!”
Noelle blinked at her. “Ah… Mr. Charles Ingram.” She gave Edith a look and the maid surreptitiously shook her head.
It was impossible to keep up with Kitty’s ever-expanding list of gentlemen admirers – quite often she was the one who was really doing the admiring. Just the other day, she’d been fixated on a gentleman by the name of Mr. Edgar Chase. Noelle wished that she’d make up her mind, because it wouldn’t do for her to have too many suitors.
“You look lovely,” Anna, their sixteen-year-old sister complimented Noelle. She smiled at her with a look of respect and admiration. “I’m sure all the gentlemen will want to dance with you tonight.”
Anna was wearing a sweet pink gown with little fuchsia flowers all over it. She looked as sweet as a just-bloomed flower herself.
Noelle smiled back at her. It was amazing to her how much her little sister had grown. Anna and Beth – who was fifteen years old – were still so sweet and innocent, not at all like their overly-flirtatious elder sister Catherine.
The Duchess of Salisbury took great pride in her daughters’ beauty and decorum, though Noelle knew that whenever they were going to attend a ball she became rather nervous. “Where are Beth and Emily?” Noelle asked her sisters.
“Beth is finishing up getting ready and Emily is reading in the library,” Anna replied as if she knew this question would be asked.
It was no surprise at all that Emily was off reading. She cared far more about the characters in books than she ever did about things that were happening in real life.
Suddenly, their mother came huffing up the steps, fanning herself with a large, white feather fan. She was wearing a beautiful honey-colored gown with a shimmering gold ornament carefully placed in her deep-brown curls. Though a woman of forty-one, the Duchess of Salisbury was every bit as beautiful as her daughters still.
Though perhaps less so when she is out of breath, Noelle thought to herself as she smiled at her mother.
“Oh, good, you’re all ready,” the duchess said to them, looking Noelle, Catherine, and Anna over each briefly in turn. “Your father and the viscount are here. They’re drinking port in the sitting room. Where’s Beth?”
As if on cue, Beth hobbled out of the bedchamber that she shared with Anna, stepping into her left slipper. She wore a modest blue gown with a little bonnet on her head. Whenever Noelle looked at her, she could still imagine the little baby that Beth used to be.
It gave her a queer feeling. She could only imagine how their mother must feel.
The duchess smiled at Beth approvingly. “Splendid,” she said to the young ladies who now stood in a row before her. Then, noticing Edith there, she frowned a little. “Edith, be a dear and see if Collette needs any help in the drawing room.”
“Oh, yes, my lady,” Edith said with a quick, awkward curtsy. She gave Noelle one last smile of encouragement before going down the staircase as she was ordered.
Now that the ladies of the house were all dressed and ready, it was time for them to go downstairs and wait for the arrivals of the guests.
Chapter 2
Mr. Rodrick Edwards threw a forest green, velour jacket onto his shoulders and examined his expression in the looking glass. The jacket did well to highlight the olive green in his eyes, and his gold-brown waistcoat did the same to the thin ring of gold around his pupils. He didn’t notice this as much as he noticed the intensity and the determination that his eyes also conveyed.
He knew that his cousin, James Edwards, the Viscount of Easton, was due to arrive any moment. They were to be guests at the Duke of Salisbury’s ball that evening and as such he wanted to look his best.
He ran his hands through his short black curls, mussing them up a bit in a way that managed somehow to look even more pleasing than they had a moment before. He smirked. “That will certainly do,” he said to himself.
If the duke’s ball was to be like the usual parties in the London ton, then it was hoped – at least by Rodrick’s mother – that it would be a veritable marriage mart. Such events were usually teeming with fine young ladies … the trouble for Rodrick was always that none of them seemed to be the right lady for him, or he the right man for them.
James was always held in a much higher regard, both because he was titled and destined to be an earl someday and also because he was a great deal more amiable than Rodrick, who was more brash and had a bit of a sharp tongue. If he was ever to find a bride at one of these balls, he hoped that he’d find someone who was genuine and not in it for the glitz and glamour of a title that he couldn’t bestow.
The nephew of an earl was not destined for much, but Rodrick was guaranteed a comfortable and wealthy life for the rest of his days. In his heart of hearts, he longed to share that life with a loving wife. But he would not voice this desire, because his mother would never let him hear the end of it. She hardly did as it was.
Smyth, their butler, knocked lightly upon the open door before coming into the room. He bowed low. “Sir, you have a guest downstairs in the lounge.”
Rodrick turned from the mirror, a surprised smile on his face. “Lord Edwards?”
The butler shook his head. “No, sir. It is Lord Drake. I have already requested some tea for the man. Though I daresay he doesn’t intend to stay long …”
Right, Rodrick thought. He intends to go to the ball as well, surely.
“Very well, thank you, Smyth,” he said. “Please do inform him that I shall be right down. And let me know when James arrives.”
Bowing again, Smyth then left the room.
Rodrick hoped that he might greet the Marquess of Fairfax downstairs before his mother got to him. Alphonse Drake was a good-natured fellow who wouldn’t mind chatting up Mrs. Edwards if given the opportunity.
The trouble was that he didn’t wish his mother to become too chatty with him. Giving his reflection one final look of appraisal, he left his bedchamber and walked down the staircase at great speed.
He could hear his mother’s giggle before he could see her. “Oh, Lord Drake, you are too kind. And too silly.”
Rodrick rolled his eyes a bit before straightening his posture and entering the lounge. His mother caught his eye and beamed back at him. She was wearing an elegant, gold-colored dress with little dark green ribbons tied about her waist and the bottoms of her short sleeves.
She a
lso wore long, shimmering gold gloves. She was dressed as if she was going to be on the marriage mart herself, though she was a woman of sixty years, and a widow to boot. Mrs. Eleanor Edwards was a lady who loved a good ball, even if she was past the prime of life when men might ask to dance with her.
She never seemed the least bit discomfited by this, however, choosing to enjoy herself rather than worrying about her age. Normally, Rodrick was happy that his mother got on well at parties, though there was also often a lingering fear that she was setting out to embarrass him. She was fond of boasting about him to anyone who would listen.
“Rodrick!” she exalted as if she was surprised to see him in his own house. “You look well, my darling son. Very well indeed. I was just telling Fairfax here that we couldn’t wait to attend the Duke of Salisbury’s ball.”
Lord Drake turned at once the moment that Mrs. Edwards announced that her son was in the room. He grinned a perfect, white smile at his friend.
The Marquess of Fairfax was a tall and debonair gentleman. He was dressed in a fine, black jacket with long tails, white breeches, and a crimson waistcoat. His hair was the color of straw and he wore closely-cropped sideburns of the same color down the side of his face and resting upon his cheeks, framing his grin quite neatly.