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A Gift for Fiona
Love Letters Series Book Two
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Suzanne G. Rogers
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Idunn Court Publishing
Copyright Information
A Gift for Fiona, Copyright © 2015 by Suzanne G. Rogers
All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.
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This book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.
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Idunn Court Publishing
7 Ramshorn Court
Savannah, GA 31411
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Published by Idunn Court Publishing, March 2015
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This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this book can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
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Published in the United States of America
Editor: Kathryn Riley Miller
Cover Design: Suzanne G. Rogers
Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna
Dedication
To Robert, my Hero.
Chapter One
Challenges
June, 1876. London
WAS TONIGHT THE NIGHT Fiona Robinson would get engaged to a viscount? She could almost taste triumph on the tip of her tongue. As she arrived at Bowerhaven Hall with her sister, Lara, and Lara’s escort, Miles Greystoke, the very atmosphere was filled with expectation. In the imposingly large foyer, matrons had donned the latest Parisian fashions along with their finest jewels, and gentlemen wore meticulously tailored evening clothes and scrupulously polished shoes. The younger ladies were displaying their physical charms as advantageously as possible; sometimes scandalously so, since a revealing décolletage was always in demand. Cheeks bloomed with rosy hues brought about by surreptitious pinches, and eyes sparkled with hope. The delicate fragrance of expensive perfumes competed with the many floral arrangements set out here and there, and a string quartet was seated in an alcove, producing unobtrusive music to set the mood.
Fiona and Lara passed through the receiving line, followed by Miles. After they’d exchanged greetings and pleasantries with their hostess, Lady Quarterbury, the trio moved to the far end of the foyer to make way for newcomers. Miles craned his neck as he scanned the crowd.
“Are you looking for someone in particular?” Fiona asked.
“Actually, yes. I talked my good friend Rory into coming tonight, but I don’t think I’ll find him if I’m standing in a corner. If you’ll forgive me, I’m going to leave you ladies for a short while to search.”
“We’ll endeavor to stay out of trouble,” Lara said.
As Miles strode off, Fiona gave her sister a teasing glance. “I’m glad you’re the one who promised to stay out of trouble because I could never manage it.”
“You haven’t fallen into the punchbowl even once this Season.”
“Let tonight not be the first.”
When Fiona glanced at her sister, she was struck by how truly stunning she looked. Her fair complexion, paired with dainty features and dazzling golden tresses, gave her the appearance of an exquisite porcelain figurine. Fiona’s heart swelled with pride.
“You’re so beautiful tonight, Lara, just like an angel. And your gown suits you so well. I do wish I could wear pink, but it clashes dreadfully with my hair.”
“Thank you, but I’ve never seen you look better,” Lara said. “In fact, standing by your side, I feel washed out.”
Fiona was grateful for her sister’s kindness, but she couldn’t have disagreed more. Although the two girls were twins, the differences between them were striking.
“Now you’re being silly, but you’re sweet to say that.”
“I mean it, too. And as to our gowns, mint is definitely more fashionable than pink this year.”
“Possibly…but I wore it because Lord Moordale mentioned green was his favorite color.”
“Aha! Most certainly he won’t fail to notice.”
A feminine voice lanced through the air like an arrow. “If it isn’t the Misses Robinson.”
Iris Braithwaite, clad in an off-the-shoulder gown, joined them. She was a tall, handsome woman with dark honey blond hair and blue eyes, but her somewhat self-satisfied and superior expression detracted greatly from her beauty. Fiona’s gaze was drawn to Iris’s ostentatious diamond necklace sparkling under the light of the chandelier. In her opinion, such jewels would be more appropriate on a far older woman.
“Good evening, Miss Braithwaite.” Fiona and Lara spoke at the same time.
“Good evening. Your gown is very plucky, Miss Fiona. Although mint is all the rage in Paris, I’ve not yet seen a woman in London sufficiently fashionable to pull it off.”
Fiona bristled, but Lara’s face became a polite mask. “Have you recently been to Paris, Miss Braithwaite? Your gown is lovely.”
“Thank you, yes. It’s a Worth original.”
“Oh, my!” Fiona exclaimed. “A Worth original, did you say? I wonder that you chose to pair a couture gown with heavy diamonds. It seems to me flamboyant jewelry competes with the dress for attention, but then I’m not sufficiently fashionable to comment, I suppose.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but before she could reply, a glossy dark-haired gentleman appeared at Fiona’s elbow. Although his clothes were largely the same as every other gentleman at the ball, he seemed to wear them with extra panache.
“Good evening, ladies.” He sketched an exaggerated bow.
Lara and Iris murmured greetings and curtsied, but Fiona dipped into a deep curtsy—the better to show her décolleté. As she rose, she held the man’s gaze.
“Good evening, Lord Moordale.”
He smiled. “Before I’m outdone by another fortunate fellow, may I have the pleasure of escorting you in to dinner later this evening, Miss Fiona?”
Iris made an angry noise deep in her throat and hastened off with a swish of her lavishly trimmed silk skirts. If Lord Moordale noticed her reaction, his expression didn’t reveal it. Fiona gave the handsome viscount a dimpled smile.
“I’m happy to accept, sir, and look forward to it with anticipation.”
He beamed. “Good. Excellent.”
A newly arrived gentleman called out Lord Moordale’s name just then, and the viscount excused himself. After he was out of earshot, Fiona permitted herself a giggle.
“I’m to dine with Lord Moordale…yet again!”
“What a coup. I’m thrilled for you!”
“Did you see how his invitation put Miss Braithwaite’s nose out of joint?”
“Indeed, I did. She certainly made no secret of her feelings on the matter.”
“I’m sorry, but if anyone deserves comeuppance, it’s her. Every time she crosses my path these days, she thinks of something increasingly evil to say. I’m not easily intimidated, but her campaign of insults is beginning to take its toll.”
“I don’t wish to take pleasure in anyone’s unhappiness, but I admit s
he has always been extremely uncivil to you. I’ve heard whispers that she’d had her hopes pinned on Lord Moordale until you came along.”
“I’ve heard the same thing, but it’s not my fault he prefers me. I only hope I’ll be the one to secure him before long. Perhaps a walk in the moonlight after dinner will do the trick?”
“He seems quite smitten with you, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed anyway.” Lara leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Don’t look now, but our neighbor, Sir Harry, has just arrived.”
Fiona moaned. “Not him again! He’s been following me around all Season like a puppy. You’re lucky the old fellow decided you were a lost cause.” She took her sister by the arm and propelled her down the hallway. “Let’s slip inside the ballroom before he sees us.”
The twins stepped into the ballroom, which resembled the inside of a jewelry box. Overhead, crystal gaslit chandeliers provided sparkling illumination flattering to every complexion. The gleaming inlaid wood floor spread out in dazzling splendor, as if in invitation to dance. Although the dancing had not yet commenced, guests were already filtering into the room and settling into the chairs pushed against the walls. Gentlemen were crossing over to ladies and scribbling their names on their dance cards, and musicians were tuning their instruments in the corner, awaiting the signal to begin from the manager of the ball.
Over Lara’s shoulder, Fiona noticed Miles appear in the doorway along with a fair-haired gentleman in tow. Her jaw dropped open slightly, which caused her sister to follow her glance.
“That must be Miles’s friend?” Lara murmured.
Unable to respond, Fiona could only nod. She’d met many handsome and debonair gentlemen during her time in London, but she’d never seen one quite so…manly. He moved with athletic grace, his gaze scanning young women like a lion on the prowl. When his eyes found hers, the resulting shock made her jump. Her pulse began to race, and as he and Miles approached, she prayed she could speak without mangling her words. The man’s eyes rested on Lara momentarily, but returned almost immediately to Fiona. She was so flustered by his frank admiration, she barely listened to Miles’s introduction.
“Miss Lara Robinson, and Miss Fiona Robinson, I’m pleased to introduce Rory Braithwaite,” Miles said. “Rory, these are the Misses Robinson I’ve been telling you about. My brother William is married to their elder sister, Angelica.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Fiona managed.
“Likewise.” His voice had a deep, purring quality that weakened her knees.
Lara gave the man a warm smile. “Are you any relation to Miss Iris Braithwaite, perchance?”
“Iris is my twin sister.”
“Another pair of twins, then,” Lara said. “We’re in good company.”
As if the man had cracked a whip next to her ear, Fiona snapped out of whatever momentary emotional stupor she’d fallen into. Indeed, she could see the family resemblance now, although the strong nose, square jaw and chiseled cheekbones found more favor on Rory’s face than his sister’s. Nevertheless, the man might as well have sprouted hair from his ears and clusters of warts from his chin for all the appeal he held for her now.
“Miss Fiona, may I reserve the first dance this evening?” he asked.
“I’m afraid it’s already taken.” Her tone was as cool as she could muster without being overtly rude.
“The second, then.”
“That’s taken, too.”
Iris appeared, sliding her hand around her brother’s arm in a possessive manner. “I see you’ve met Rory.”
“Yes, indeed. Mr. Braithwaite, how have we never managed to see you in town before now?” Lara asked.
“I’ve spent the last year in India, working with missionaries.”
“Are you pursuing the church as a profession, then?” Lara asked.
Iris laughed. “Heaven’s no! Rory studied engineering at Cambridge.”
“That’s where he and I met,” Miles said. “He was very kind to an underclassman.”
“You’ve graduated then, Mr. Braithwaite?” Lara asked.
“Yes, and thereafter accompanied missionaries to India to help with the construction of wells,” Rory said. “You can’t imagine how a simple thing like clean drinking water can improve the quality of life in one village.”
“What an admirable and worthy occupation,” Lara said. “Although your presence in London has surely been missed, your work in India has been a blessing.”
Fiona kept her mouth firmly closed. Any admiration she may have felt for Rory’s charitable impulses was blunted by the toxic presence of his wretched sister, who was openly sneering at Fiona’s coiffeur. Her gaze was so critical, Fiona had to stifle the impulse to reach up a hand to see if some strands had come loose.
“Rory visited me in the country after my end of term, and I convinced him to come to town,” Miles said. “Good dance partners are always needed during the Season.”
Rory chuckled. “I believe your exact words were ‘You must do your part for England!’”
Everyone laughed except for Fiona, and Iris took the opportunity to pounce.
“Are you feeling quite well, Miss Fiona? I do believe your pallor is somewhat sickly.”
Rory’s eyebrows drew together, and he gave his sister a sharp glance. “You’re mistaken, Iris. Miss Fiona looks in perfect health.”
Despite the man’s unsolicited defense, Fiona’s dander rose at the woman’s barb.
“I’ve never felt better, Miss Braithwaite.”
“I’m so relieved. You must take every opportunity to secure a husband as soon as possible. With one sister wed and Miss Lara soon to be engaged, you’ll be the last Robinson girl on the shelf. People might think there was something amiss.” Iris snickered. “Too bad there aren’t any spare Greystokes for you to marry.”
Although Fiona tried to keep her temper under control, anger shot down her spine.
“Thank you for your concern, Miss Braithwaite. I’m not quite as desperate as you might imagine, but I do intend to enjoy myself thoroughly tonight. In fact, I’ve just promised the first two dances to your brother.” She curtsied. “If you’ll excuse me.”
Fiona walked toward the open doors of the nearest balcony in as stately a manner as she could manage, considering she was trembling with fury. Furthermore, she was annoyed with her response just now. Why couldn’t she have thought of some other way to irritate Iris than by sacrificing her first two dances to Rory?
As Fiona left, Iris’s lips thinned and her eyes flashed. “If you’ve asked Miss Fiona to dance, I’m afraid you’re off to an inauspicious beginning this evening, brother.” She flounced off.
Puzzled, Rory gave Miles and Lara a quizzical glance. “I must have missed something?”
Lara sighed. “There’s ill will between my sister and yours, I’m afraid.” She cast a worried glance toward the balcony. “I should go talk to Fiona.”
She hastened away, leaving Miles and Rory perplexed.
“I see my sister is in rare form this evening,” Rory said. “I’m awfully sorry to hear she’s failed to endear herself to Miss Fiona, although I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“I’ll be happy to take your two dances with Fiona if you like.”
Rory chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Why would you want to follow through? It’s obvious to me that Fiona’s dislike for Miss Braithwaite extends to you as well.”
“I won’t back away from a challenge. In fact, I look forward to changing Miss Fiona’s opinion of me.”
“She’s not the sort of girl to be easily persuaded. You’ll never win her over.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Miles gave him a pointed look. “See here, Rory. I intend to marry Lara, which makes her sister’s welfare my concern. Despite my regard for you, I won’t have you trifling with Fiona’s affections just to prove a point.”
Rory waved off his concerns. “No need for fisticuffs! As it happens, she intrigues me
to no end. I’ve never met a girl with such fire in her eyes before, and despite my shrew of a sister, I intend to know Miss Fiona better.” He held out his hand. “You have my word as a gentleman, I’ll do her no harm.”
Although he shook Rory’s hand, Miles had one eyebrow raised. “See that you don’t. Now, we have a few minutes before the dancing begins. What would you say to a drink?”
“Not punch.” Rory shuddered. “Too sticky sweet for my taste.”
“No, I think we can find ourselves something stronger.”
“Excellent. I could use a bracing beverage before I throw myself into the fray tonight. In gatherings such as these, there are always skirmishes and conflicts to navigate—as we’ve just had proof.”
Miles laughed. “The smoking room down the hall is equipped with a full bar. I suggest we avail ourselves of it.”
In the cool of the night air, Fiona gripped the stone balustrade and tried to control her emotions. Moments later, Lara joined her.
“Are you all right?”
“I will be, eventually.” Fiona made a sound of exasperation. “I shouldn’t let that woman get under my skin, but she has a talent for it! Because of her, I hate this dress now and I feel like everyone’s laughing at me behind my back. And she’s not wrong about my being the last Robinson sister on the shelf. As soon as you’re engaged, everyone will assume I’m a hopeless case.
“Oh, Fiona, your dress is splendid, and you’ve been receiving only the most admiring glances. Also, consider that this is only our first Season! Angelica didn’t get engaged until her third, and the only reason Miles and I will become engaged soon is because we’ve known each other for so long.”
“No thanks to the trouble I caused between you.”
“That’s all forgotten now.”
Fiona gave her twin a crooked smile. “You and Miles are decent to have forgiven me for my interference, but I’m having a difficult time forgiving myself. To be perfectly honest, I recognize my bad behavior in Miss Braithwaite. I suspect we’re both cut from the same cloth.”
A Gift for Fiona (The Love Letters Series Book 2) Page 1