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Triana's Spring Seduction

Page 1

by Tabetha Waite




  Triana’s Spring Seduction

  (Season of the Spinster — Book 1)

  by Tabetha Waite

  Copyright © 2020 Tabetha Waite

  Cover Art Design by PI Cover Market and the Midnight Muse

  Also by Tabetha Waite

  Ways of Love Historical Romance Series

  How it All Began for the Baron (Christmas prequel novella)

  Why the Earl is After the Girl (Book 1)

  Where the Viscount Met His Match (Book 2)

  When a Duke Pursues a Lady (Book 3)

  Who the Marquess Dares to Desire (Book 4)

  What a Gentleman Does for Love (Book 5)

  Season of the Spinster Series

  Triana’s Spring Seduction (Book 1)

  Novellas

  Twelve Gifts by Christmas

  Lord Castleford’s Fortunate Folly (Fortunes of Fate #1)

  A Lady’s Guide to Marriage

  A Promise Beneath the Kissing Bough

  Miss Pageant’s Christmas Proposal

  Novels

  Behind a Moonlit Veil

  The Secrets of Shadows

  The Piper's Paramour

  AnthologiesHeyer Society (non-fiction essays)

  Wrapped Up in Love (Breast Cancer Charity – Contemporary)

  Lords, Ladies & Babies –Little Consequences (Regency)

  Rogues On My Mind (Regency)

  Some Wallflowers Do (Regency)

  Take Two: A Collection of Second Chance Stories (Thistle Farms WOTR Charity – Various Genres)

  Short Stories

  Love’s Frozen Kiss

  Love Out of the Ashes

  Acclaim for Tabetha Waite

  Why the Earl is After the Girl

  *BIBA Winner for Romance – 2017

  *Feathered Quill Book Award – Second Place in Romance – 2018

  “…for a debut novel Ms. Waite painted the heroine to the canvas with in depth emotional pull…a fun read.” – Romance Reviews Magazine

  “This regency novel is filled with passion, lies and mystery.” 4 Stars! – InD’tale Magazine

  “Really enjoyed this book!” 5 Stars – Sissy’s Romance Book Review

  Where the Viscount Met His Match

  *International Book Club Finalist in Fictional Romance – 2019

  *Book Excellence Awards Finalist in Fictional Romance – 2019

  “…gains a 4 out of 4 star rating from me. Not only did I laugh and cry like a fool while reading the story but also feel thrilled.” – Online Book Club Reviewer

  “Felt like watching a movie while reading it. This book deserves a movie adaptation!! I’m sure it would be a big hit!!” – Online Book Club Reviewer

  When a Duke Pursues a Lady

  *Book Talk Radio Club Finalist in Romance – 2018

  5 stars Top Pick! – The Romance Review

  “I really truly loved this book! It was a perfect historical romance story with a touch of suspense. I was completely hooked from beginning to end.” – 3 Degrees of Fiction Book Blog

  “If you are looking for a historical romance that has murder, mayhem, and a bit of political intrigue then you will not be disappointed with (this book)!” – The Genre Minx Book Reviews

  Who the Marquess Dares to Desire

  *Raven Awards Finalist in Regency/Victorian/Western Romance – 2019

  “The characters are well flushed out and likeable, the romance is allowed to brew and the storyline with the suspense is just enough to keep your interest.” – Cyrene with Uncaged Book Reviews

  What a Gentleman Does for Love

  “This book is the last in the series and what a page turner.” – Goodreads Reviewer

  “I love this series! It was so nicely done you just got right into the story and couldn’t put them down. I know I’ll be rereading these again!!!!” – Amazon Reviewer

  Behind a Moonlit Veil

  5 Cup Review! – Coffee Time Romance

  Table of Content

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Dedication

  For all my wonderful Teapot Tattlers. Thank you for all of your positive energy and kind words. I couldn’t do this without you. And I would be remiss if I didn’t give a special shout out “Squee!” to Lady Estela.

  Chapter One

  London, England

  April 1812By all accounts, being invited to the crush of the season would have been revered, or, at the very least, celebrated. Lord and Lady Kensington’s ballroom glittered, as an array of candles reflected in the large, crystal chandeliers hanging overhead. The women of the haute ton, having paid their modistes the highest prices for the right fabric and cut for their shimmering, expensive gowns, flirted shamelessly with the gentlemen, who, themselves, were just as turned out in their fashionable, tailored evening wear, most exuding nothing less than a modest charm. In such an atmosphere, even the toughest matron relented with her young charge.

  It was bound to be a splendid evening.

  But not everyone shared in the merriment.

  Lady Triana Abernathy rotated her neck to remove the kinks before risking another glance at the ormolu clock on the ornate, marble mantel. Twelve-thirty. With an irritated, narrowing of her eyes, for surely the thing was broken, as more than five minutes must have passed since the last time she looked, she calmly turned back to the multitude of couples before her and did her best to stifle a yawn.

  Apparently, it was going to be a long night, but then, when was it ever not?

  She noticed a wayward strand of hair out of the corner of her eye, so she attempted to tuck it back into her elegant coiffure, succeeding only in having it fall right back into her face.

  With a disgusted sigh, she blew at it from the side of her mouth, not caring whether she was displaying unladylike behavior or not. After all, what did it truly matter? Her dance card was empty and would likely remain so for the entirety of the evening, but such was the fate of a spinster. After four unsuccessful seasons, she should be used to sitting at the edge of a ballroom, and yet her mother continued to drag her to every event they could gain a coveted invitation to, all in the chance that someone might actually forget the torrid scandal surrounding the Earl of Trenton — Triana’s errant father.

  “Might I have the pleasure of the next set, my lady?”

  At the sound of the deep, cordial voice, Triana glanced at the sandy-haired, Viscount Wistenberry, wincing when his gracious offer was accepted by a breathless and almost thankful reply from the red-haired woman sitting on her left. Lady Isabella’s face split into a brilliant smile as she was gallantly led away on his arm.

  Triana’s mother would say that any young lady with no marriage prospects should appropriately jump at the chance to dance with such a suave, eligible gentleman in the slight hope that he might become enamored enough to propose at some point, but to Triana, if said gentleman were also a notorious libertine, what kind of life could a young lady expect once the deal was made? But then, Triana knew the purpose of polite society was to make the arrangement, not to promise happily ever afte
r.

  “Would you look at that?” Triana’s gaze shifted to the blond who sat to her right. Korina gave a shake of her head as she watched the latest couple take to the floor. “That has to be some sort of record for Lady Greenville. While I knew she was an old prude, I never imagined that she could move her fan to cover her gossiping mouth that fast.”

  Triana’s lips twitched, as she was inclined to agree, for she’d always thought Lady Greenville was rather abominable, but she decided it would be in the other girl’s best interest if she offered a friendly warning. “You should be cautious what you say, should the wrong person hear you. I know things are different in New York, but that particular lady is cousin to the king.”

  Korina snorted. “I’m not impressed. Besides, it’s not as if my behavior is any worse than Wistenberry and his false attentions toward Izzy.” She waved a hand toward the dance floor where they had taken their places for the next set.

  Triana glanced at her curiously. “You don’t think his intentions are sincere?” “Hardly.” Korina rolled her eyes. “Either Wistenberry is truly dense, or he has been fully aware of Isabella’s fascination for him. If you ask me…” She stuck out her fan to make her point. “…his sudden attentiveness has more to do with his fear of being disinherited for not producing a legitimate heir, rather than his having had a sudden change of heart. Not to mention that none of the other debutantes will go within a mile of him, so I think the conclusion to be drawn is fairly simple. What easier prey for an unrepentant rake than a dusty spinster who worships the ground he walks on?”

  Triana gave a heavy sigh, for even though Korina had been raised in America, she tended to see more in English society than most. And while her rather outspoken opinions were generally less than complimentary, Triana had to admit that they were usually correct.

  After a moment, Korina lifted a delicate brow and asked, “I think I’ll head over to the refreshment table to see what I can stir up. Care to join me?”

  Giving a small smile, Triana shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll stay here and keep vigil for Eastbury.”

  “A full time occupation, to be sure,” Korina murmured with a wink before taking her leave.

  As she walked off, Triana overheard a conversation between two elderly matrons that were passing by.

  “I don’t know what Lord Wistenberry was thinking to ask that girl to partner him for the waltz!”

  The second woman nodded in agreement, her fleshy chin bouncing animatedly, as her mouth pinched in disapproval. “I agree. Even with his sordid reputation, he could do much better than that shy wallflower! But what can one expect? She’s been chasing after him for years. Such shameful behavior. One can only hope Lord Ashfield takes his daughter to task after this. What a disgrace!”

  As the rest of their conversation dwindled away, it was all Triana could do to hold her tongue, resisting the urge to chase those horrible biddies down and defend her friend. While it might have been true that Isabella had long held a tendre for the viscount, she had never gone so far as to blatantly chase after him! But, as usual, it was the men of the ton that were spared those vicious tongues — when they were more than deserving of such scorn!

  Gentlemen, indeed…

  Just recalling all the lurid offers Triana had been approached with in the past year alone made her stomach roll. Esteemed members of society? Ha! To think that she’d believed most of her father’s former acquaintances to possess an actual, beating heart, only to grow up and find the smiling, grandfather figure that had patted her on the head as a child had all the characteristics of a slithering snake!

  As for marriage… well, Triana wasn’t about to cast aside her freedom, just for the sake of being wed. While becoming some stodgy, lord’s wife would undoubtedly keep her from wasting away as a pitiful relation with a house full of cats for company in her old age, she wasn’t about to jump feet first into a loveless union. She’d heard too many horror stories about women who had become a wife simply because it was their duty — and ended up in a lifetime of misery.

  Her own parents were a prime example and one she didn’t care to duplicate.

  At least Triana had her brother’s support, the one thing that had kept their reputation from completely sinking into the muck. Travell Abernathy, the Viscount of Curdiff, was an up and coming voice in Parliament who had managed to find high favor with the Regent, having been personally invited to Carlton House several times. At only thirty years of age, he had managed to regain a portion of the wealth their father had gambled away, thus, combined with his popularity, many regarded him as quite a catch. Which was why Triana could now venture out into public and remain relatively unscathed, but she knew better than anyone that circumstances could change at any time.

  “If your intention was to hide from Eastbury in plain sight, you’re doing a remarkable job of it.” Triana glanced up to see Korina holding a cup of punch, her hazel eyes dancing with her usual devil-may-care merriment. “I thought I should warn you he’s headed this way.”

  Triana glanced beyond the woman’s shoulder to see that, indeed, the earl was attempting to weave his way through the crowd toward her.

  Drat.

  Standing, Triana quickly said, “Thanks for the warning,” before she rushed off in the opposite direction.

  If anyone could be considered a thorn in Triana’s side — other than her mother — it was Alfred Durning, the Earl of Eastbury. With the least bit of encouragement on her part, Triana had no doubt that he would press his suit, but since she refused to do so, it continuously had Triana and her mother at sixes and sevens. But not only was the man old enough to be her father, plus a few years, with a paunchy exterior, a receding hairline, and breath that smelled like the Thames in summertime, once he put in his appearance at an event she was destined to be plagued for the rest of the evening.

  Thankfully, Travell was sympathetic to her resistance; so he didn’t press the issue, but heaven help her when an actual proposal came, for her mother would become relentless. If that became the case, she feared her brother might actually concede to Lady Trenton’s demands, if nothing else, then just for some peace and quiet around the house.

  Triana kept praying that eventually the earl’s affections would shift elsewhere and he would find one of the fresh debutantes more to his liking before she was forced to the altar. The fact that he had not as yet was more troubling than she liked to admit.

  She suppressed a shudder as she snatched a glass of Madeira from a passing footman, feeling the need for some liquid reinforcement.

  But just as Triana’s gloved hand lifted the delicate stem to her lips, her gaze drifted toward the entrance to the ballroom. Suddenly, every nerve ending abruptly came alive, making her breath catch and her pulse to thunder erratically.

  While he wasn’t turned in her direction, his features in chiseled profile as he spoke to his host and hostess, there was no mistaking that towering stance or the broad shoulders that belonged to Gabriel Wilde, the enigmatic, Duke of Chiltern.

  Triana pressed a hand to her chest, and made a feeble attempt to calm the blood rushing through her veins. She took a sip of her wine with shaking fingers. Compelled to watch him over the rim of her flute, Triana thought that it really wasn’t fair that any one man should be possessed of such a handsome visage. The duke literally exuded a raw magnetism that left very few unaware of his presence in a room.

  Gabriel’s name was whispered past every set of lips in every drawing room in fashionable London — and likely all of England. Having returned to his ancestral soil after living several years abroad (only God knows where, although there had been talk of the Orient), he had become a rather fascinating subject upon his return nearly two weeks ago, and while the ton thrived on a good scandal, a mystery was equally intriguing.

  It was the bits and pieces sent out among the rumor mills that had caused the largest stir. Some gushed about the insane amount of wealth he’d recently inherited, while other talk was more subdue
d, a select few claiming how sad it was that he had not made amends with his father before the man’s untimely death a month ago. And regardless of the fact he had not allotted a proper grievance period for his sire, having been graciously accepted back into society less than a week after the funeral, which he hadn’t even attended, the ton was not so unforgiving as to let a wealthy bachelor — and a duke, no less — slip through their grasp without letting such a “minor” indiscretion become a hindrance.

  While it had all infuriated Triana at first, that it was just like the ton to forgive a man’s impudence, that was all before she’d actually seen him and realized what all the fuss was about. Just a glimpse of that thick, mahogany hair....a glance from that sleek, silver gaze...or a flash of that dazzling, white smile, had reduced Triana (and most of the women of the ton), to a puddle of quivering sighs.

  In short, the man was absolutely sinful.

  In spite of this, naturally, every society hostess was clamoring to gain him on her guest list, and if she had a marriageable daughter, the fight was even more so. But while Gabriel appeared to be unattached at this point, for Triana had yet to see him with any one woman longer than the polite niceties dictated, she would wager a guess that there was a list of possible matches circulating around somewhere, most likely in the betting books at White’s.

 

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