She also has a standalone longer novel shortly to be released, and two other series of novels in development.
She lives in Australia, and when not reading or writing, likes to travel, and to see in person the places where history happened.
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His Majesty’s Hounds – Book 10
Sweet and Clean Regency Romance
Arietta Richmond
“Perfect! You look wonderful, and Mistral is carrying herself so well.”
Miss Isabella Morton immediately spoiled the perfect seat and movement that she was being praised for by turning to her companion with a happy smile, allowing her mare to fall back into a lazy walk as she did so.
“Oh! I just lost that, didn’t I? Wait a moment, let me see if I can do that again – it felt lovely when everything was working properly.” She concentrated, and adjusted her seat and hands, gently, until the mare came back to the elegant gliding slow trot that she had been doing before. “This is so much more comfortable than the bumpy trot she was doing before you taught me how to do things correctly.”
Lady Harriet Clarence laughed, delighted that her friend was doing so well. She had feared, when they started, that Bella’s propensity for extravagant movement when she talked might make it rather difficult to teach her to ride well.
After all, every movement would be interpreted, by the horse, as a command – with potentially alarming results. But things were working out well. Bella was clever – far more than she seemed at first meeting, and capable of being utterly focused on a task, if she cared about it. And it seemed that she cared about riding.
“You really are doing well. Soon all of the gentlemen will be watching you, admiring your style. Not many young ladies actually ride well.”
“I know. I have seen some of them, they sit like this…” Bella attempted to demonstrate, and destabilised herself completely, losing the beautiful trot and bumping about. “Bother! Let me get that back. I must remember not to demonstrate. But now that I have tried to, when actually on a horse, I am even more amazed that they don’t all just fall off, to land in inelegant heaps in the middle of Rotten Row.”
“Perhaps you have noticed that they spend rather a lot of their time at the walk?”
Harriet’s voice was full of cynical amusement.
“But surely they would get more notice from the gentlemen if they could do more?”
“Well, yes. But you have just demonstrated how hard it is to concentrate on two things at once. And most of them are rather focused on studying the gentlemen around them – which leaves them little attention to focus upon their riding.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
They let the conversation lapse for a while, as Bella concentrated on her riding.
The late July heat surrounded them, and they knew that soon, most of the ton would depart Town for a month or two, to escape the heat and the stink of London in summer. But many were still here, and Bella had to consider that there was some entertainment value in watching them.
All of those who thought themselves important came here, to see, and be seen. Bella had very rapidly discovered that they were most likely to ignore her. She was, after all, not noble born. That her brother, Raphael, had recently been granted the title of Earl of Porthaven had only marginally improved her status, as he had been, and still was, a merchant. The ton had little tolerance for those that they saw as upstarts, especially those whose hands were sullied with trade. It had, at least, made them be polite to her face.
Lady Harriet was different, her brother was one of Raphael’s closest friends, and she had always been nice to Bella. She rode, and drove, better than any other woman that Bella had met. When Bella had finally raised the courage to ask for her assistance, she had been thrilled to help. So now, most days, they rode through Hyde Park as Bella learned. She was learning more than riding, as well, for Harriet could tell her who all of the important personages were, as well as much of the gossip about them. Bella liked to be well prepared for the moments when she entered Balls or soirees, and was faced with a sea of potentially hostile faces.
Finally settling into the slow gliding trot without it taking every ounce of her concentration, she turned her attention to the group of gentlemen riding ahead of them. There were a few that she had seen before, men of little conversation and too much self-importance. But one, she had not seen before.
He was tall, and lean, and he rode with the kind of casual fluid elegance that only came with much practice, and a superb awareness of one’s own body. His hair was blond, tied back with a plain black ribbon, where it fell below his hat. It glinted in the sun, a rich pale gold colour, similar to the unusual colour of his horse, which was the palest chestnut she had ever seen. He rode beside two other men, and, whilst the other two were talking, he seemed to be silent, watching his surroundings with what might be affected ennui, or might be actual boredom – she could not tell. He was, she thought, not simply handsome, but also beautiful, in the way that a cat could be beautiful – danger sheathed in languid relaxation. He attracted her, as other men did not, for he was interesting, in a way that most would never be. She wondered who he was.
“Harriet… that man, the blond one, on the pale chestnut horse, do you know who he is? I don’t think that I have seen him before.”
Harriet looked at the men, considering, then shook her head.
“The other two are amongst the crowd who are a little disreputable – prone to gamble, but not to extremes, and thinking themselves more appealing than they are. But him – no, I don’t know him, which is odd – I know most people, at least by sight. I will attempt to find out, before we next meet.”
With that, Isabella had to be content, but his image stayed in her mind, long after he had ridden away from her sight.
~~~~~
Lucian Merryhew, the Duke of Hartswood, was bored. Again. He stood with Edgar Holborn, Viscount Hailfort, the only man he truly regarded as a friend, at the side of a ballroom. Even though this might be their last chance to talk, before Edgar departed for the jungles of South America tomorrow, they had given up on conversation for the nonce. They sipped cups of insipid punch, and attempted to maintain the farce of politeness to the fluttering flock of society misses that surrounded them.
Edgar had likened the girls to the flocks of butterflies found in some forests – beautiful when seen together, clothed in delightful colours, but utterly unintelligent in their movement, fluttering about together, hoping to accidentally come upon a source of food. Except that this flock of young women were looking for husbands, not something as simple as food. But their behaviour was otherwise as unintelligent as could be.
He bowed to the relevant ladies, made polite rejoinders to their rather stupidly inane discussion of the weather, and steadfastly refused to ask any of them to dance. Their mothers glared at him across the room, and he took delight in ruining their hopes of making their daughters a Duchess. It did no good, of course. No matter what he did, they still flocked around him. His reputation as a rake and a gambler did not deter them.
He knew that, amongst the women, and even amongst some of the young men who envied him, he was referred to as ‘the Duke of Hearts’, a play on his name, in ‘tribute’ to the number of women who had supposedly succumbed to his charms. At first, he had been almost flattered, but now, like everything else about society life, he had ceased to find it amusing. But they persisted with it. He had heard it whispered upon his arrival tonight, a susurration behind fluttering fans.<
br />
He had only come this evening for a chance to catch up with his friend, before Edgar’s departure to pursue his naturalist interests on the other side of the world. Even that was failing, he thought morosely. How he had ever found these events entertaining, a few years ago, he did not know – perhaps he was becoming jaded. He glared at the girl in front of him, and she fluttered her fan, attempting to look enticing. Damn! Was there no expression which would drive them away?
As he was about to lose his temper completely, and push his way rudely through the young women to escape to the card room, he caught a glimpse of a girl, across the room. She was dressed elegantly, with a heart shaped face, surmounted by hair so dark as to be almost black. There was a continental look about her, yet her skin was English fair. It made her striking, and she moved with elegance, even though she seemed quite young. That she was talking quietly with someone, rather than immediately joining the flutterers around him, made her stand out as well. Briefly he wondered who she was, and was grateful that the sight of her had reminded him that some women were not throwing themselves at him – that some might even be potentially intelligent. No, that was probably too much to hope for.
He turned back to Edgar, and Edgar nodded, understanding his intent. They moved.
“Excuse me Ladies. So sorry, but we have an appointment in the card room.”
The relief as he exited the room was extreme.
~~~~~
Bella stood with Lady Harriet, and Lady Serafine, her sister-in-law, watching the room as they talked. She was nervous, as she always was at events like these. She hoped that, in time, she would get used to it – to the disdain of the ton for her ‘merchant class origins’ and to their frosty politeness. She understood that the fact that the Prince Regent had favoured her family was the only thing which ensured even that frosty politeness.
Across the room, a flock of young women clustered around two men, shamelessly attempting to attract their attention, competing with each other in a way which reminded Bella of the seabirds on the docks, fighting over scraps of food when the ships came in. She would never lower herself to that kind of behaviour.
The crowd of women parted for a moment, as the two men pushed their way through them. Her breath caught. It was him, she was sure of it. The man she had seen only once before, yet who was imprinted on her mind. He moved, on foot, with the same casually lethal assurance with which he had moved on horseback. He was just as beautiful now, as he had been then.
Suddenly, she had an insane impulse to run forward, to throw herself in his path, to discover who he was. The impulse was gone as soon as it came – had she not just said that she would never indulge in that sort of behaviour? Still, she wanted to know who he was, even if she never had the chance to speak to him face to face.
She touched Sera’s arm.
“Sera, who is…” Sera turned to her, but it was too late, he was gone through the door towards the card room. “never mind, I can’t see the person I was going to ask about anymore.”
They went back to their conversation, but to Bella, the room seemed somehow duller, dimmer, without his presence in it. The disconsolate flock of husband hunting young women had scattered, and were seeking other prey. It made her wonder again who he was, what title or wealth he had, that made him hold so much fascination for them. They were shallow like that.
They moved into the room further themselves, Sera and Harriet introducing her to people as they went, and she steeled herself to the experience of being disregarded, over and over again. A few of the young men did ask her to dance, but they were ungainly and inelegant in their movements compared to the unknown man with the golden hair. And their conversation soon proved that they were interested in nothing but the size of her dowry.
Disgusted, and feeling disenchanted with the whole concept of Balls, she eventually claimed a megrim, and asked that they go home.
But when she closed her eyes in the carriage, his image was there, burned into her memory.
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Claiming the Heart of a Duke
Intriguing the Viscount
Giving a Heart of Lace
Being Lady Harriet’s Hero
Enchanting the Duke
Redeeming the Marquess
Finding the Duke’s Heir
Winning the Merchant Earl
Healing Lord Barton
Kissing the Duke of Hearts (coming soon)
Loving the Bitter Baron (coming soon)
Rescuing the Countess (coming soon)
Attracting the Spymaster (coming soon)
Restoring the Earl’s Honour (coming soon)
The Earl’s Unexpected Bride
The Captain’s Compromised Heiress
The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair
The Count’s Impetuous Seduction
The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption
The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress
The Marchioness’ Second Chance (Coming Soon!)
Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish
The Derbyshire Set Omnibus Edition Vol. 1 (the first three books all in one)
The Derbyshire Set Omnibus Edition Vol. 2 (the second three books all in one)
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Healing Lord Barton: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 9) Page 15