“We’re thrilled you’re here.” Eleanor squeezed her gloved hands. “You know, this evening is only possible because of your house party five years ago.”
“Oh! How lovely to think we had anything to do with it.” Lillian winked at Eleanor before she and Burbridge continued into the ballroom. Lillian had given birth to a baby girl earlier in the summer, much to the delight of both parents.
“Thank you for having us.” Violet Adley, another of Lettie’s sisters, squeezed Eleanor’s hands.
“We’re so pleased you’re here.” Eleanor loved how she and her husband, Baxter, had met when Violet was helping his parents re-create a Christmas from their past.
“This is a splendid way to celebrate the year,” Baxter added. “So much has been accomplished, and we’re both excited about the new ideas for expanding the charities.”
Mr. Adley had spent many years in India earning a fortune and had proven indispensable in helping to manage the financial aspects of the charities.
“As are we.” Gideon de Wolfe, the Earl of Warenton’s younger brother, and his wife, Ruby, joined them. “So many ideas to implement in the coming months.”
“I’m so glad we can still be involved despite living in Northumberland.” Mrs. De Wolfe tightened her hold on her husband’s arm. “We have decided to extend our stay here another week before returning home.”
Before the two were married, they’d stumbled upon an unfair gambling scheme meant to take advantage of the little money people in the rougher areas of the city had. Gideon was adamant the charities do what they could to work with law enforcement to put an end to similar schemes that frequently popped up.
“I’m pleased you did.” Christopher Easton, Viscount Beaumont, slapped Gideon on the shoulder. “There are more ploys to be uncovered.”
That was an element that concerned the viscount and his wife, Amelia Beaumont, as well. They’d ended another gambling ploy that had indirectly resulted in an accident that had taken the life of Beaumont’s sister and brother-in-law.
Next came Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Sloane. Samantha positively glowed as she leaned close to Eleanor. “We’re expecting again.”
“Congratulations.” Eleanor squeezed her hand. “I’m so happy for you both.”
“Thank you,” Mr. Sloane said with a grin.
“Will we be able to meet next week?” Douglas asked. “The financial reports on a few of the more questionable charities should be available then.”
“Perfect.” Mr. Sloane nodded.
Both Gabriel and Samantha had discovered that some of the charities were little more than social organizations that didn’t truly distribute the funds they raised to the charities they were supposedly helping. They had worked to make the organizations follow through with their promises.
Additional guests continued filing past Eleanor and Douglas until at last everyone had been welcomed.
Douglas turned to Eleanor. “I believe you promised me the first waltz.”
“Absolutely.” She signaled for the musicians to begin then looked at her husband as they walked to the dance floor. “I know we are exchanging our gifts on the morrow, but there is one I’d like to share with you this evening.”
“Oh?” Douglas took her into his arms and they glided with the music. “What might that be?”
“Archie is going to be a big brother.”
Douglas halted in the middle of the floor to stare at her nonplussed, ignoring the other dancers around them. “Truly?”
“Truly.” She blinked back happy tears at the joy that swept over Douglas’s expression.
“That is wonderful news.” He glanced about then guided her off the floor to a nearby column. “You are well?”
“I am.” She nodded. “And so very happy.”
“As am I.” Douglas kissed her briefly. “Christmas is always a special time of year since you entered my life. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too. So very much. Happy Christmas, my love.”
###
Turn the page for a preview of Romancing the Rogue, Book 1 of The Rogue Chronicles, available on Amazon!
Chapter One
London, May 1814
Caroline Gold was the captain of a sinking ship with little hope of finding safe harbor in a desperate storm. The message that had arrived from her father’s doctor amounted to one more hole in the hull when the winds of despair were already pummeling from all sides.
With a heavy sigh, she selected a sausage, coddled eggs, and a half piece of toast from the sideboard then took her chair at the dining room table, doing her best to hide her worry.
Doctor Smithson had apologized but advised he “couldn’t possibly pay a call until payment was made on their account.”
Her father’s failing physical and mental health over the past eighteen months had created difficulties in every area of her family’s life, most of which she felt ill-equipped to manage. Between significant losses on investments and poor business decisions, their wealth had quickly dwindled until they were reduced to worrying about having enough money to purchase food each week.
As the eldest of three daughters, Caroline still berated herself for not watching him more closely, when she’d first noted his confusion. She hadn’t realized he was making so many unwise decisions with the money he’d worked so hard to earn.
She focused on what could be changed and pasted on an encouraging smile as her sisters and mother settled into their chairs at the table for their weekly Monday meeting. “Good morning.”
With her mother busy caring for her father, Caroline had stepped forward to rally her sisters in whatever manner they could think of to support their parents, save money where they could, and earn some if possible.
“How is Father this morning?” she asked her mother. His nagging cough the past few days had prompted their request for the doctor to pay a call.
If Caroline hadn’t been watching, she might not have noticed the slight tightening of her mother’s mouth. Her worry deepened as her mother smiled—no doubt as false as the one that graced her own lips moments ago. “He slept fairly well.”
Caroline waited until her mother’s gaze met hers. She recognized the concern in the depths of her brown eyes. It had been there so often of late.
“Barclay is with him now.” Their loyal butler had been more help with her father’s condition than any of them had expected.
Sir Reginald was slowly losing his grip on reality. Caroline and her mother had noticed inconsequential things at first. The once vigorous, impressive man clever at investments and so helpful to England’s war efforts with his shipping business that he’d been awarded a knighthood nearly two decades ago, had memory lapses. Not terribly surprising given how busy he was.
They’d disregarded it as nothing more than temporary slips. When it became more obvious, occurring so often that even he realized something was amiss, they’d sent for the doctor.
Doctor Smithson was an old family friend and delivered the news as gently as possible, but the diagnosis was devastating. He warned them to expect Sir Reginald’s mental capacity to continue to decline. The worst part of his message was that little could be done to halt it.
Her father was now a shadow of his former self. He couldn’t go to his office at the shipyard without one of them in attendance, nor could he make the decisions required to manage his many investments. His second-in-command at the shipyard attempted to help but didn’t have the business savvy or instincts of Sir Reginald. Nor did Caroline.
She and her mother had made the decision to keep the shipping business open but at this point, it barely paid for itself. Caroline made weekly visits with her father, hoping the occasional sight of him in the shipyard would help keep it afloat. Attempting to insert herself into the business when she was a woman and knew so little about what items were profitable to ship, especially in a time of war, continued to be a struggle.
They all missed their father dearly. His physical self remained with them, but the man he’d been had depa
rted. On bad days, when he forgot how to put on his trousers or where his library was, she wondered if this terrible form of purgatory was worse than death. During his coherent moments, when he realized how much mental fortitude he’d lost, his despair was heart-wrenching.
“A good night is the basis for a good day,” she told her mother.
Her mother reached to squeeze her hand across the table. “You are quite right, my dear. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Caroline dearly wished she could do more.
“Has the doctor responded to our message?” her mother asked with a hopeful tone.
“Unfortunately, he won’t be able to call for a time.” Caroline said nothing further on the topic, certain her mother understood the reason. The lack of money was a constant battle they all fought.
The cost of feeding their household had nearly tripled due to the wars with France and America. Caroline had cut costs where she could, changing their diet significantly. Breakfast was one of the least expensive meals with the price of eggs high but more reasonable than other foods.
“Annabelle, how is the story coming along?” Caroline asked.
“Quite well.” Her sister, two years younger than Caroline’s twenty-three years, dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “A new villain has emerged. He is far worse than the previous one.” The gleam in her eye made Caroline smile.
Annabelle loved to write and her vivid imagination never failed to amaze the family. When Caroline had suggested she attempt to sell a story to the local news sheet, their mother had been appalled, but Annabelle was thrilled. After reassuring their mother that Annabelle could write under a pen name and her identity would be kept a secret, she relented.
Each week, Annabelle wrote a chapter in her ongoing mystery under the name A. Golden. The series had become quite popular. She earned enough that they’d re-hired one of the maids who’d been previously let go.
“I look forward to reading the next installment,” Caroline said. “And you, Margaret?” she asked her youngest sister. “How is your latest creation coming along?”
At age eighteen, Margaret’s cleverness was with needle and thread. Even before the need had arisen, she’d designed several gowns for their mother, creating drawings for the seamstress to follow. Now that their financial circumstances had changed significantly, she did the sewing as well and was brilliant at it.
“I’ve found a way to reuse the seed pearls from Mother’s old pink gown to decorate the bodice of her blue gown. It’s coming along very well.” She poured their mother more tea before adding some to her own cup.
Caroline beamed at her. “Your skills never fail to astonish me, Margaret.”
Caroline pushed aside the wish that she had the ability to earn funds. Her sisters had inherited their mother’s creativity while Caroline had her father’s organizational skills but none of his business knowledge. Planning a ball wasn’t the same as running a business. She briefly closed her eyes, wishing she could return those skills to him. They were of far better use to him.
“And how is the duke coming along?” Her mother’s gentle question had Caroline shifting in her chair.
A proposal from the wealthy Duke of Wayfair, whose eye she’d caught at the end of last Season when she’d unknowingly befriended his shy sister, would certainly save her family, but nothing could be done to force it from him.
If they weren’t so desperate for funds, his pursuit of her would be flattering, especially considering they held a bestowed title rather than an inherited one. But when everything they did revolved around putting food on the table and paying their account with the doctor, her feelings on the situation had changed.
The pressure to think of a way to make certain she appeared charming and friendly with the hope he’d propose was wearing on her. She had no idea what more she could do to convince him to ask for her hand.
The strain made her feel as if she were being squeezed in a vise. Impossible and uncomfortable, regardless of which way she moved.
With a mental shake of her head, she reminded herself none of that mattered. Only the well-being of her family was important. The duke would never be the love of her life, but she no longer believed such a thing was in her future. If she could say she liked the duke and enjoyed his company, that would be more than most members of the ton could claim. Surely, companionship and mutual respect would be enough.
Her previous engagement to David Stouffer, the son of a local country squire near their country home, had ended well over a year ago at his behest, when Caroline had advised him of the drastic change in their financial situation. David had no funds of his own, and he’d told her that while he cared for her, it was impractical for them to marry with her dowry gone.
She’d been shocked at his coldness and disappointed that he could so easily turn away. She thought he’d cared for her in the same manner she’d cared for him. The realization she wasn’t worth fighting for hurt more than she cared to admit.
Caroline lifted her chin, reminding herself that as the eldest, the welfare of her family rested on her shoulders, and she gladly accepted the responsibility. Everyone was doing their part, but their best hope was for her to make a good match. God had blessed her with her mother’s fine bone structure, blonde hair, and alabaster skin along with her father’s jade green eyes.
Using those gifts to attract a wealthy husband was something done by ladies every day. Never mind that doing so made her feel like a pretty shell waiting to be found on the beach, easily tossed aside once the beauty faded.
“I am hopeful the Southby ball tomorrow evening might be when he’ll propose. I have it on good authority he’ll be in attendance.”
“How exciting.” Her mother’s dark eyes lit with relief, making Caroline aware of how much her mother was counting on Caroline making a good match—or rather, this match.
“Isn’t it?” She smiled broadly at her mother and sisters, ignoring the doubt in her heart. Her happiness was of little concern. The duke was truly quite nice from what she knew of him.
“I will have the pale green silk complete,” Margaret said. “You’ll look stunning in it. That ought to encourage him.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
Margaret had reworked last Season’s dresses, giving each an updated look with no one the wiser. The less others knew of their reduced circumstances, the better. Caroline didn’t want any of them to gain the reputation as fortune hunters.
They’d gone to great lengths to conceal her father’s poor health. Revealing his failing mental competence could hurt his business—something they couldn’t risk.
As the conversation drifted to less serious matters, Caroline pondered what more she could do to encourage a proposal from the duke.
“Do not worry so, Caroline,” her mother said quietly with a pat on her hand. “You only need be yourself. You are perfect as you are.”
She turned her hand to squeeze her mother’s. “Thank you.”
Why didn’t it feel like enough?
Read ROMANCING THE ROGUE today, available on Amazon now!
Author’s Note
The Seven Curses of London series came to me like so many ideas do—while I was researching something else. The original book by that same name written by James Greenwood was originally published in 1869. Greenwood is said to have started his writing career a few years before by writing an article entitled A Night in a Workhouse when he disguised himself as a pauper and stayed the night in a workhouse to expose the terrible conditions. He was considered an investigative reporter by many but others suggested he leaned toward the dramatic. At the very least, he started many conversations about the problems the city of London faced but were often ignored. I find it interesting that we have similar issues today.
When so many readers requested one more Seven Curses book, I couldn’t resist writing a Christmas story that gives us a peek at many of the characters we met over the course of the series. You may notice that the epilogue includes each of the couples
from the thirteen books and that they are introduced in the order the books were written. I thought that would be easier on all of us. ☺
It’s been delightful to hear from many of you about how much you’ve enjoyed this series. Thank you for reading my stories, which allows me to continue writing them. I hope you give the next series, The Rogue Chronicles, a try, along with the other books in my backlist.
Happy Reading!
Lana
Other Books By Lana Williams
Victorian Romances
The Seven Curses of London Series:
Trusting the Wolfe, a Novella, Book .5
Loving the Hawke, Book I
Charming the Scholar, Book II
Rescuing the Earl, Book III
Dancing Under the Mistletoe, a Christmas Novella, Book IV
Tempting the Scoundrel, a Novella, Book V
Romancing the Rogue, a Regency Prequel (and the start of The Rogue Chronicles series)
Falling For the Viscount, Book VI
Daring the Duke, Book VII
Wishing Upon A Christmas Star, a Novella
Ruby’s Gamble, a Novella
Gambling for the Governess, Book IX
Redeeming the Lady, Book X
Enchanting the Duke, Book XI
The Secret Trilogy:
Unraveling Secrets, Book I
Passionate Secrets, Book II
Shattered Secrets, Book III
Regency Romances
The Rogue Chronicles:
Romancing the Rogue, Book 1
A Rogue’s Reputation, a Christmas Novella, Book 2
A Rogue No More, Book 3
A Rogue to the Rescue, Book 4
A Rogue and Some Mistletoe, Book 5
More in this series coming soon!
A Match Made in the Highlands, a Novella
Medieval Romances:
Falling for A Knight Series:
A Knight’s Christmas Wish, Novella, Book .5
A Knight’s Quest, Book 1
A Knight’s Temptation, Book 2
A Knight’s Captive, Book 3
The Vengeance Trilogy:
Enchanting the Duke (The Seven Curses of London Book 11) Page 12