by Bree Wolf
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About the Book
Prologue
Chapter One – A Hard Look in the Mirror
Chapter Two – Welcome Home
Chapter Three – A Gentleman & a Lady
Chapter Four – What to Look for in a Husband
Chapter Five – The Wrong Man
Chapter Six − Passion
Chapter Seven – Waltzing with the Enemy
Chapter Eight – A Sensible Match
Chapter Nine – Untoward Intentions
Chapter Ten – Being Nonsensical
Chapter Eleven – A Happy Couple
Chapter Twelve – No Reasonable Objection
Chapter Thirteen – Far From Sensible
Epilogue
About Bree
Also By Bree
Read a Sneak-peek
Prologue
#1 Forgotten & Remembered
Overview Love's Second Chance Series
Love's Second Chance Series 1-10
Box Sets
Bree's Belles of the Ball
Winning her Hand
(#7 A Forbidden Love Novella Series)
by Bree Wolf
Winning her Hand
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 © 2018 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 Our Families
On occasion they drive us crazy
but who would we be without them?
Acknowledgments
A great big thank-you to all those who inspire me daily, those who tell me to keep writing, those who laugh and cry with my characters and me. I love being a writer, and I could never sit down every day to do what I love without all of you. Thank you.
About the Book
A list of suitors. A rational-minded lady. And a gentleman who vows to win her hand.
When it comes to choosing a husband, LADY WINIFRED is at a loss. The only man who constantly occupies her thoughts is her brother’s oldest friend. However, Trent Henwood, Earl of Chadwick, could not be more unsuitable…at least for her.
Although he may be titled, wealthy and handsome, his personality constantly clashes with hers. And Winifred is much too reasonable to choose a match based on love alone.
TRENT HENWOOD, EARL OF CHADWICK, has been in love for as long as he can remember. Equally long has he been aware of the fact that Winifred would never accept him.
Settling for being her friend, Trent finds his worst nightmares realised when the woman he loves starts to look for her future husband…anyone but him.
Desperate, Trent turns to her brother for help, and Griffin actually has an idea.
However, Trent will have to risk losing her in order to win her hand.
Prologue
Stanhope Grove 1819 (or a variation thereof)
Winifred sighed as her eyes beheld the newly-wed couple across the room.
“They look happy, do they not?” her brother Griffin, the Earl of Amberly, observed, his dark brown eyes shifting to her, a touch of confusion resting in them.
“I suppose so.”
Griffin frowned. “Then why do you look so glum? Is Eleanor not your friend? Are you not happy to see her happy?”
Taking a deep breath, Winifred tried to sort through the contrasting emotions coursing through her body. “Of course, I’m happy for her,” she defended herself, her voice a tad harsher than intended. “I hope you do not believe me to be someone who wishes others ill?”
“Not at all.” Retreating somewhat from the joyous festivities, Griffin urged her to the side and out of earshot of the nearest guests in attendance. “However, you have to admit that your outlook on marriage is rather…what shall we call it?…bleak.”
Enraged, Winifred fixed her brother with a stern look, her hands coming to rest on her sides. “How can you say that, Griffin? You know as well as I do that marriage for the right reasons is a most sensible constitution. I’ve always said so.”
A grin came to Griffin’s face. That man had the audacity to grin at her! Oh, if he weren’t her brother…! “Sensible?” he asked, eyebrows raised in question. “I admit you’re the only young woman I’ve ever met−or heard of, for that matter−who does not at least hope for a love match.”
Winifred scoffed, “Why is it that you think women ought to hope for a love match while men can consider a sensible marriage?”
Again, a wide grin split his face. “Don’t start with me, Winifred. You know as well as I do that your objections have nothing to do with the rights of women.” He stood up straight, and his dark brown eyes rested on her face for a long moment. Then he sighed and leaned toward her, all humour gone from his face. “I believe you’re simply afraid to have your heart broken.”
Winifred’s mouth fell open.
“Although I cannot see why,” her brother continued. “Growing up the way we did, I always assumed you’d wish for a relationship like our parents’.”
Riled from her brother’s words, Winifred tried to maintain her composure. After all, a lady did not strike her brother.
An earl.
Well, at least not in public.
Inhaling another deep breath, Winifred waited for her pulse to cease its frantic pace before she met her brother’s enquiring gaze. “Whether you know it or not,” she began, doing her best to speak slowly, lest her words tumbled about one another as they sometimes did when she was agitated, “our parents’ union is the very reason for my outlook on marriage.”
Griffin’s forehead creased into a frown. “But they were happy.”
“Precisely.”
Shaking his head, Griffin lowered his voice as he grew more and more impatient. “You’re not making any sense!”
“Our parents did not marry for love,” Winifred said, unable to suppress a hint of triumph in her voice. “Theirs was an arranged match. In fact,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, “a few years ago, Mother confided in me and told me that before their marriage she had been taken with another man. However, in the end she chose to marry Father because he was the more sensible choice. An infatuation offers a few blissful moments, nothing more. A union based on deeper attributes, however, ensures a lifetime of happiness.” With a satisfied smile on her face, she held her brother’s eyes, pleased to have made her point.
Unfortunately, Griffin seemed far from impressed. Quite on the contrary, the corners of his mouth drew upward into that annoyingly superior grin of his and his eyes lit up with mischief. “I, too, have heard that story,” he laughed. “However, dear Sister, in the version I heard, it was our dear grandfather who persuaded Mother to accept the earl’s proposal instead of that of a penniless solicitor.” His gaze held hers, a challenging glow in them. “I suppose the deeper attributes you’re referring to are fortune and family name. Nothing else. Do you truly believe those will ensure future happiness more reliably than love and affection?”
Feeling the blood drain from her face, Winifred stared at her brother. “How do you know this?”
Griffin shrugged. “Grandfather mentioned it. He seemed rather pleased with himself.”
Gritting her teeth,
Winifred turned to the window, forcing her gaze to focus on the lush green gardens, currently topped off with a thin layer of ice crystals.
“I apologise for speaking so bluntly,” Griffin whispered into her ear. “I never meant to upset you. However, I admit that your outlook on marriage frightens me sometimes.” His hand settled on her arm, and he urged her to turn and look at him. “I love you dearly,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked into her eyes, “and I wish for nothing more but to see you happy.” He drew in a deep breath. “And while I do not wish to undermine your own capabilities, I feel compelled to tell you that your sensible way of thinking of marriage will not accomplish that task.”
Winifred swallowed, her limbs suddenly feeling heavy as lead. “But they were a good match, were they not? They were so much alike. They laughed together. Read together. Rode out together. Even if they were not deeply in love, they cared about one another, did they not?” Remembering her parents, Winifred could not believe that the life she had led had been nothing but a lie, a well-hidden secret.
“They did care about each other,” Griffin said, nodding his head when she turned doubtful eyes to him. “However, their feelings developed over time. They came to care for one another. It was nothing more but…a fortunate coincidence. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Some people are fortunate to find love in an arranged marriage. But most do not.” His hands tightened on hers. “I cannot stand the thought that you might end up in a marriage without love.” A soft chuckle escaped him. “For despite your insistence to be rational and sensible always, your heart loves with such fierceness and devotion rarely found in people. It deserves its perfect match.”
Emotionally exhausted, Winifred did not know what to think. She loved her brother dearly. Always had he been by her side, looking out for her, protecting her, guarding her happiness. Only three years her senior, he had often acted like a man far beyond his years. Especially since the day they had lost their parents in a carriage accident.
At the thought of their parents’ loss, old pain flooded Winifred’s heart and her eyes misted with tears. Oh, how much she wished to have her mother by her side! She would understand, would she not? At the very least, she would be able to explain the choices she had made in her life. Had she truly chosen to marry their father due to their grandfather’s insistence? Or had she simply allowed him to believe so while choosing Father for her own reasons?
More than anything, Winifred remembered her mother’s warm eyes, steady and unwavering as though nothing could surprise her, as though she had all the answers. Had she not promised Winifred to aid her when the time came to choose a husband? Had she not told her that impartial eyes might judge more reliably than those blinded by infatuation? Had she not spoken to her of the need for common ground? Shared interests? Expectations? Dispositions?
But now she was gone.
And Winifred was alone in her choice.
Still, walking in her mother’s footsteps made her feel connected to the woman who had always known the right course. Somehow, it made her feel closer to her as though her mother was still watching over her, guiding her hand. In any case, Winifred felt less likely to disappoint…after all, was she not heeding her mother’s advice?
Chapter One – A Hard Look in the Mirror
The fortnight after Eleanor’s wedding was a blur to Winifred; her thoughts were directed inward. Her friend’s marriage had dragged something out into the light of day, something that Winifred had ignored for a long time.
For too long.
“I’m two-and-twenty,” she mumbled as she stood in the drawing room of Atherton House, her breath misting over the window pane for a moment before it disappeared. “I’m two-and-twenty.”
After their parents’ death, her brother, who had just been of age at the time, had inherited his father’s title and taken over guardianship of his sister. For a few weeks, they had remained at Atherton House, trying to go on with their lives before one day Griffin had come to her with an idea.
“Let’s travel the world,” he had said, his eyes aglow for the first time since their parents’ death. “After all, what is left for us here? Sadness? Grief? Sorrow?”
“Will they not follow us wherever we go?” Winifred had objected, her own heart weighed down heavily by their recent loss. “Do you truly think we can outrun them?”
With determination in his eyes, Griffin had shaken his head. “I’m certain we cannot. However, we need something to balance them. Something good. Something that makes us smile and laugh. We have none of that here.”
In a heartbeat, Winifred had agreed, knowing that she would have followed her brother to the end of the world if he had asked. Five years had passed since that day. Five years spent everywhere but here. Five years to come to terms with the loss of their parents.
It still hurt, but they had learnt to live again.
Only now, Winifred was two-and-twenty and still unmarried.
Soon, she would be on the shelf.
Drawing in a deep breath, Winifred remembered the garden party at Stanhope Grove Eleanor had invited them to only a few weeks before her wedding. Her brother and his new wife had been in attendance as well. Diana, the new Lady Stanhope, had a little boy from her first marriage, who had been out in the gardens every day, his explorations leading him through hedges and up trees…with his step-father’s assistance, of course, as he was barely three years old.
The memory brought a smile to Winifred’s lips, and she remembered that it had been that very moment that she had realised what she wanted.
Marriage. Family. Children.
Although a part of her could see herself travelling the world with her brother forever, she could not deny that another part of her craved something more.
Finally, the time had come.
If she truly wanted to be a mother, she would have to find a husband first.
And now, her own mother was not here to guide her hand.
“There’s no putting it off,” Winifred mumbled to her own reflection. Then she stepped away from the window and sat down at the small escritoire, pulling out a sheet of paper. Where was she to begin?
If her mother were here, what would she advise her to do?
“I’ll make a list,” Winifred mumbled. After all, if she was to find a suitable match, she would need to look at herself first and try to judge her character with as much objectivity as she could. Only then could she hope to discover a man among the gentlemen of the ton you would suit her person and share her interests and expectations.
But who was she? What kind of a person?
devoted
loyal
rational
compassionate
Staring at those four attributes, Winifred sighed. Certainly, it was easy to speak well of oneself, was it not? However, everyone−including herself−possessed attributes that others detected with greater ease than one could hope for when looking at oneself, most importantly, because they were far from flattering.
obstinate
Winifred scowled at the word staring back at her from the page. Still, her brother had called her that quite a few times and he knew her well, did he not? Maybe he could help her.
Instantly, Winifred shook her head. No, he would never take this seriously. He would laugh at her, then try to convince her to give up on this endeavour and then he would call her obstinate when she refused.
Despite the rather unflattering word, Winifred felt vindicated. If she only tried, tried to be honest with herself and worked on this as diligently as she could, there was a chance she could accomplish this task on her own.
Good, she thought. What else?
hesitant
As proved by her tendency to ignore even pressing matters, Winifred reluctantly listed yet another unflattering attribute. Still, she had to admit it was fitting. She did take her time making decisions, always worrying that she was about to take a wrong turn, always wanting to be certain that the decision she was about to make was the righ
t one.
Rubbing her temple, Winifred felt the desperate wish to step away from the task at hand. However, if she did so now, she would never finish, never find a suitable match.
What about interests? Her mind suggested, and Winifred welcomed the slight change in direction with open arms. Interests were far less painful, were they not?
Quickly, she jotted down a few things that brought joy to her life.
travelling
painting
dancing
Yes, this was indeed a much safer area. And it would most certainly be much easier to discover whether a gentleman shared any of her interests. Discovering deeper aspects about his personality, however, would prove much more difficult. Who indeed would be a perfect match for her character? Someone like her? Or rather someone who was her opposite? In all ways? Or only in some?
A mild headache began pounding on her left temple, and Winifred leaned back in her chair, stilling her hands for the moment. Unable to keep herself from feeling daunted by this task, she wished her mother were there.
“Ah, there you are.”
Startled by her brother’s voice, Winifred flinched, and her head throbbed painfully. Glancing over her shoulder, she met his gaze.
“Are you all right?” he asked, looking her up and down, a touch of concern in his dark eyes.
“I’m fine,” Winifred lied, carefully placing a hand over the sheet of paper. If her brother were to see it, he would tease her endlessly. “What is that in your hand? An invitation?”
Griffin nodded, his watchful eyes dropping to the envelop in his hand. “It is. To the New Year’s Ball at Stanhope Grove.” Stepping toward her, he frowned, eyes narrowed. “Am I mistaken? Or is this a new event? I cannot recall any such festivity from before we left England.”