by Leenie Brown
Her Secret Beau
Leenie Brown
Leenie B Books
Halifax
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without written permission from its publisher and author.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, events, and places are a product of this author’s imagination. If any name, event and/or place did exist, it is purely by coincidence that it appears in this book.
Cover design by Leenie B Books. Images sourced from Deposit Photos and Period Images.
Her Secret Beau © 2019 Leenie Brown. All Rights Reserved, except where otherwise noted.
ISBN (print) 978-1-989410-48-6; (ebook) mobi: 978-1-989410-49-3
Contents
Dear Reader
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
Before You Go
Other Pens, Mansfield Park Excerpt
Acknowledgements
Other Leenie B Books
About the Author
Connect with Leenie
Dear Reader
This novel is part of my Touches of Austen Collection of Austenesque stories. These stories feature original characters and plots that have been touched in some way by the influence of Jane Austen and her novels.
As you read Her Secret Beau, you may notice nods to Northanger Abbey, Persuasion, Sense and Sensibility, and Emma. For instance, certain aspects of the heroine might make you think of Catherine Morland. Her sister might remind you of Isabella Thorpe. The fact that there is a secret relationship might bring to mind thoughts of Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax. And then, there are the nods to Persuasion and Sense and Sensibility which I will leave for you to discover.
If you would like to share your observations about which elements you thought were Austen-inspired, you can do that in my Touches of Austen Readers Group on Facebook.
Happy Reading!
Chapter 1
Grace Love was not the sort of lady who sat along the wall during dances. She was not the sort of lady who stayed at home when there was an outing to the park. She was not the sort of lady who avoided any sort of fun. Or, at least, she had not been such a lady until now. And all it had taken for Grace’s world to change had been one house party.
Through narrowed eyes, she watched the progress of her sister’s hat as the carriage Felicity was perched in made its way down the street.
“Grace, dear, do not spill your tea on that chair.”
“Of course, Mama.” Grace pulled her attention back to the sitting room in the townhouse they were renting for the season and away from her traitorous sister.
“Is it not wonderful that Mr. Ramsey has followed Felicity to Bath?” Mrs. Love had crossed to the window to almost, but not quite, peek out of the window. She stood so that she was concealed by the drapery while she attempted to look down the street.
“Of course, Mama.” Grace knew that her mother was hopeful that this match would take for Felicity since the last one had not and the circumstances surrounding the dissolution of that match had not placed Grace’s sister in a favourable light.
Therefore, every effort was to be made on Felicity’s behalf. One did not cry off an attachment to very many gentlemen before she was marked as a lady to be avoided at all costs.
The tea in Grace’s hand had lost its appeal. She forced one last sip of it before discarding her cup to the table next to her chair.
Felicity’s reticence to commit to just one gentleman had completely shattered any hope Grace had of a wonderful season, for, to help her sister, Grace had been required to give up half of her new dresses and was to accept only a fraction of the invitations she received. Next year could be hers. Once Felicity was married. Until then, she was relegated to the position of a lesser relation – a toad-eater. Her lips curled in disgust.
She rose from her chair. “I think I shall go up and read.”
“You are a good sister.” Her mother favoured her with a pleased smile from where she still stood, almost peeking out of the window. “Who knows, if this drive goes well, you may have a season after all.”
“Of course, Mama.” Grace forced a smile to her lips. How had she thought her sister was all that was good? How did one live her whole life with another person and not realize that the person sharing your maid was horrid?
Filled with morose thoughts and dashed hopes, she trudged up the stairs to her room. She had thought at one time it would be wonderful to be Felicity, for her sister seemed so cunning, so self-assured, so worldly-wise — and it was not as if her sister was not all those things. She was. It was just that she used them to promote herself at the expense of others – including her own sister.
Grace flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She had very little desire to read. She had only used reading as an excuse to avoid the hopeful effusions of her mother, which she knew would follow Felicity’s departure and would not cease until Felicity returned and could add to the chatter about her good fortune.
Was Mr. Ramsey not the most handsome man ever?Was she not the most fortunate creature in all the world? Grace rolled her eyes at the imagined declarations of her sister. Of course, Felicity would say all this with a sigh and an affected wistful look.
Her sister was fortunate. She was fortunate not to be forcefully betrothed to the man who had taken her for a drive since he and she had been in the garden alone for some time at the Abernathy’s house party. And as far as Mr. Ramsey being handsome was concerned – well, any lady who cared to cast a glance in Mr. Ramsey’s direction could decipher he was an Adonis. In fact, it was Grace who had first pointed that fact out to her sister when they had arrived at the house party.
“I said it because I was considering him,” she told the orange ball of fluff that curled up at her side. “You know, Philomena, I was also the one to suggest that Mr. Clayton would make a good catch. His living is not small, and he has such a gentle spirit.” She sighed as she ran her hand through her cat’s fur. “I should not have said a word. I should have kept all my thoughts to myself, for if I had not said anything, perhaps, I would be installed in a parsonage or be driving with Mr. Ramsey now.” She huffed. “And I would be riding in Hyde Park, not in Bath, for I would not have put my reputation in danger.”
Philomena mewed her agreement, and Grace rewarded her with a scratch behind her ear.
Before the end of the Abernathy’s house party, everyone had heard of Felicity’s walk to the garden pavilion with Mr. Ramsey and Mr. Carlyle. That bit of interesting and potentially scandalous news had grown in interest once it was discovered that Mr. Clayton had gone home with his hopes dashed. It did not help either when Felicity, who was unaware of the betrothal which had happened in her absence, attempted to begin a rumor about Miss Hamilton’s hair ribbon being in Mr. Carlyle’s possession after they had spent a few private moments together.
“Grace.”
Grace pushed up onto her elbows and looked toward her bedroom door as it opened slowly.
“You are not reading!” her mother cried, coming into the room.
“I could not ignore Philomen
a,” Grace retorted. “No, I could not do that, could I, sweetling?” she said to her cat, who once again mewed in agreement.
Her mother gave her an appraising look. “Your time will come. There is no need to sulk overly much because your sister must be put forward. Indeed, your time might be sooner than expected.” Her eyes lit with excitement.
“I do not see how,” Grace grumbled. “What if Felicity decides someone else is better than Mr. Ramsey as she did with Mr. Clayton?”
Mrs. Love pushed Philomena to the side and took a seat on the bed. “Oh, she will not. She cannot be that stupid.”
Grace was not sure she agreed. Stupid was giving up a kind gentleman like Mr. Everett Clayton for a handsome gent who carried himself with a trifle too much assurance. One could not possibly be so attractive as Mr. Ramsey and not know it. At the thought, it occurred to Grace that perhaps she should be happier that her sister had been stupid, or she might find herself tied to that very Adonis-like gentleman who thought too well of himself.
No, she scolded herself, that was bitterness talking – although — Mr. Ramsey had been willing to sneak away in the garden with Felicity when everyone knew that Felicity and Mr. Clayton were nearly betrothed, so maybe it was not bitterness but truth?
“Have you heard a word I said?”
Grace blinked and looked at her mother. “No?” Had her mother been speaking?
“I thought not, for I expected you to be far more excited than you are at such wonderful news.”
Grace’s brow furrowed. “What wonderful news?”
“You received a letter.”
“You opened it?” Grace cried when her mother handed her an unfolded letter.
“I am your mother.”
“But it was mine.” Just like the three new gowns hanging in Felicity’s wardrobe were supposed to be in her wardrobe but were not.
“And I have given it to you.”
“But you read it first. Now the news is not as special.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
“It cannot be since I did not know of it first,” Grace retorted before turning her eyes to the missive she held.
“The Sheltons are coming to Bath with your cousin, Bea.”
“Mama! You should have let me read it!”
“I am letting you read it, but the news is so exciting. They have asked if you could join them at the house they are renting. It is just outside of town, but not far. You know how Bea is about crowds of people. I suspect that is the reason.”
Grace’s eyebrows rose as she read the invitation. She knew that Mr. Shelton and Miss Hamilton, who was now his wife, liked her despite her “trollop of a sister.” She fought to keep her lips from curling in amusement at Mr. Shelton’s description of Felicity. However, it still surprised her that she would be asked to join them as a special guest. After all, Mr. Graeme Clayton could not much care for the family of the lady who had injured his brother.
“I wonder if Mr. Everett Clayton will be with them?” Part of her hoped he would be, while the less vengeful, more logical side of her brain hoped he was not. While she would find it quite delightful for Felicity to have to wonder about whether Mr. Clayton was sharing his tale with the other gentlemen in Bath, Grace would also feel dreadful about Mr. Clayton having to see her sister flirting with Mr. Ramsey.
“Oh, I should think not. He is not mentioned, and I truly think he would be if he were coming with them.” Her mother shook her head. “He is best off in town, far from here.”
“Far from Felicity,” Grace muttered.
“I would not say such, but yes,” her mother said. “It is better to not be reminded of one’s disappointment.”
“There is that,” Grace agreed.
“And he might harm Felicity’s chances. I cannot believe you hid her behavior from me for so long.”
Grace closed her eyes. She had been through this with her mother more than once already. “I did what Felicity asked. I will not make the same mistake.” Ever. Nor would she lose another gentleman to her sister. Ever.
“I know you will not. You are a good girl.” Mrs. Love patted her youngest daughter’s leg. “And now you will not have to sit around watching your sister have fun. I am not so blind as you might think. I know you are unhappy, and I cannot blame you. But your time will come.”
“Of course, Mama.”
“You are a good girl.” Her mother patted her leg once more before rising to leave the room. “I will send your maid to help you pack.”
“Mama, there are yet two days until they say they will call.”
“One cannot be too prepared,” her mother said as she left the room.
Yes, one could be. If one’s clothing was all in a trunk when she needed to wear some of that clothing, one would most definitely be too prepared. Grace flopped back on the bed and reread her letter.
“I wonder if they would allow you to join me?” she asked Philomena. “I will ask.” She sighed and smiled – not just with her lips but with her whole being as she contemplated being in company once again with Miss Hamilton – no, she was Miss Hamilton no longer. She was now Mrs. Shelton.
“It will be delightful,” she said with a sigh. “Two married ladies and their husbands, and not a sister in sight to tell me that the eldest should marry first.” She giggled softly. “Would it not be a lark indeed if I were to marry before Felicity?”
Philomena mewed her agreement before snuggling in for a sleep while Grace stroked her fur and dreamed of handsome gentlemen who only had her with whom to flirt.
Chapter 2
“I do not see why Grace had to come with us.”
Walter Blakesley peeked over his morning paper to see the source of the comment. She was a fair-looking young lady with a pleasing figure and a dignified carriage. Not his sort. Such an air of grandeur was more likely than not accompanied by fits of temper when the chit did not get her way. He turned his attention back to the news from last night’s soirees.
“And leave her at home?”
Walter chuckled. The mother sounded shocked, but he reckoned that an opinionated young miss spouting her opinions should not come as a surprise to the young lady’s mother. He held his paper in place as if he were reading it but turned his attention to what he was certain was going to be an interesting conversation between mother and daughter as they strolled past where he sat in the Sydney Gardens.
“She has enough gowns for the number of soirees she will be attending. There is no need for her to follow us around from shop to shop.”
“I do not believe we are in a shop.”
He peeked around his paper so he could match a face with the voice of the young lady, most likely the aforementioned Grace, who had just spoken. His lips curled up with pleasure. Grace had all the beauty of the first young lady with none of the regal air. However, she looked as if she possessed a good dose of pertness.
“We will be,” the first young lady retorted. “And then you will be bored and saddened.” She wore a forlorn expression. “I am only thinking of your comfort, my dear sister.”
“Are you, indeed?” Grace’s tone spoke of uncertainty, but the manner in which her lashes fluttered spoke of her being wise to the true intent of her sister.
Walter turned his attention back to the sister. She pursed her lips and shrugged.
“I suppose it will be good preparation for when you have a season next year, but do not blame me if you weary of all that needs to be done long before it is complete.”
“Come now, Felicity,” the mother cajoled. “You will be happy to have Grace’s opinion on how well you look. I know you will. She has very good taste.”
Felicity gave Grace an appraising look. “I suppose so,” she agreed and then smiled broadly. “I do hope we see Mr. Ramsey today. I told him we were to go shopping when he asked if he might take me for a drive again this afternoon, but with so much to do before we visit the Upper Rooms tomorrow, I assured him it would not be possible.”
She leaned toward her mother an
d lowered her voice so that Walter had to strain to hear her.
“He made me promise him the first set.”
“Oh, that is delightful!” her mother cried.
The Upper Rooms. Tomorrow. Walter made a mental note of the detail. He would most certainly like to see who this Mr. Ramsey was, for he seemed an excellent choice from how the mother was going on about him at present. He lowered his paper and folded it. Looking up, he caught Grace watching him.
He smiled and nodded. To his great amusement, she flashed a quick smile and then turned away as if she had not seen a thing, only to glance back at him after they had turned down a path away from where he sat. With any luck, tomorrow’s outing to the Upper Rooms would be one of the soirees which Grace would attend.
“What are you about, Blakesley?”
“Just reading my paper and taking in the view, Mr. Norman. Do you have the morning free from patients?”
Mr. Norman was one of the many physicians who made a good living off of the people who came to Bath to take the waters and improve their health.
“I do not need to see anyone for another hour.” Mr. Norman took a seat next to Walter. “The view from here is not without its pleasant aspects.” He cut a sly look at his friend.
“Indeed, it is not. However, I do not think that the mother of those two is looking for a physician either for herself or her daughters.”
Mr. Norman chuckled. “They look a bit young for my liking.”
“Still set on finding a spinster?”
Mr. Norman nodded. “As long as she is not older than thirty or younger than twenty-seven. I think a gap in age of at least four years but not more than seven is ideal.”
“You have very odd notions,” Walter countered. “I dare say that both of those ladies are more than seven years younger than me.”
“A gap of more than seven years is perfectly fine for you. It just is not for me.”
“I do believe the infirmities of your patients have addled your brain. How can it be one thing for you and another for me?” Walter said as he rose.