Overview
Gerald, Earl Elliott, has finally decided to marry. Unfortunately, he seems only to fall for a lady once she is engaged to another. When his close friend, the Duke of Rothwell, asks him to look out for his sister, Lady Lucinda Hughlot, during her first London Season, Gerald is happy to oblige. After all, it will put him even more conveniently in the way of eligible ladies. Yet he’s completely oblivious to Lucinda’s growing attraction
to him . . .
Lucinda is thrilled to finally be having her Season. Her mother would be thrilled as well except for the scandal the late duke caused before his death. To avoid gossip, the dowager duchess has decided an arranged match will cover her chaperoning duties. Lucinda, however, is far from pleased with her mother’s choice of the Marquis of Quorndon—especially with her heart set on Lord Elliott. There is only one solution: Lucinda will find a lady for Quorndon. Then she will convince Lord Elliott of their love—and together they will convince her mother. All it will require are good theatrical skills—and a very genuine kiss . . .
Praise for Ella Quinn’s The Marquis and I
“Romance builds in this satisfying, memorable read, perfect for fans of Grace Burrowes and Tessa Dare.”
—Booklist
“A surprising Regency romance that combines intelligence and intrigue for satisfying results.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Full of payoffs for longtime readers while welcoming the new.”
—Publishers Weekly
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781420148541 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Kensington |
| Publication date: | 11/27/2018 |
| Series: | The Worthingtons |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 112 |
| Sales rank: | 220,442 |
| File size: | 665 KB |
About the Author
After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat cruising the Caribbean and North America. Europe is next!
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Website: www.ellaquinnauthor.com
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Blog: ellaquinnauthor.wordpress.com
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Late March 1816
Rothwell Abbey
Lady Lucinda Hughlot, daughter of the former Duke of Rothwell and sister of the current duke, listened at the not-quite-closed door to her brother's study.
"Really, Rothwell." Her mother's exasperation resonated in every word. "I do not understand why Louisa cannot simply sponsor Lucinda herself."
"Mother, we have had this discussion before." Silence fell, and Lucinda knew he was trying to find another way of making the argument. "As you are well aware, Louisa gave birth not a month ago." Well, that wasn't new. Of course Mama knew. She'd been there. "I will not have her fagged to death trotting all over Town escorting Lucinda to entertainments. You will have to do your bit as well."
"Aside from that," Louisa said in a weary tone, "it would appear odd if you did not."
"I agree with Louisa," Rothwell said. "You are not at death's door, or even slightly ill."
"I could become so." Mama's dry tone would have been funny if Lucinda's Season were not at stake.
"In that event, we would not be able to go to Town," — Louisa was beginning to sound as frustrated as Rothwell — "and that would end this argument about Lucinda's Season."
Lucinda bit down hard on her lip. Her mother had not been in society of any sort since Papa died. Although she had not been told the whole story — of that she was certain — there appeared to have been a scandal of some sort.
Unfortunately, there was little she could do about the decision. Rothwell was right. It was not fair for his wife to do everything for her when Mama was perfectly capable of doing her share.
"Are they still at it?" Her brother Anthony whispered, making Lucinda jump.
"Yes. Mama is still refusing to go to Town, and Rothwell is refusing to allow Louisa to be dragged all around chaperoning me."
Tony put a hand on her shoulder. "It will come out all right in the end. Rothwell and Louisa will get their way. But if you don't want to get in trouble for eavesdropping, you'd better come away from here."
Lucinda did not understand what made Tony so sure. Neither of them had had an opportunity to come to know their sister-in-law well. Shortly after Rothwell's marriage, Mama had insisted they repair to The Roses, her dower property, about a day's drive away. The whole family had spent Christmas at the abbey, and Lucinda had enjoyed seeing Louisa and her brother together, but there was not much time to actually speak with her.
Naturally, Mama had come for the birth of Rothwell and Louisa's daughter, Lady Alexandria Charlotte Hughlot, but Lucinda had been left at The Roses. Yet despite not having spent much time with Louisa, Lucinda thought her sister-in-law had a great deal of sense. And even though she and Louisa were the same age, she seemed much more mature — that might have come from having had a Season — and was a force to be reckoned with. She had even saved hers and Rothwell's lives.
"You would deny your sister a Season?" Mama asked.
"No, you would deny her a Season." Rothwell's hard tone made Lucinda's heart drop. "What is it to be?"
The silence seemed to stretch into hours. "Very well. I shall go, but if the gossip starts up again because I am present, it will be on your head."
Lucinda glanced at Tony. "Gossip? Because of the scandal?"
"Go." He turned her around and gave her a push. "They are coming out."
She dashed off to the morning room. By the time the sound of padding feet could be heard down the corridor, and her brother and sister-in-law entered the room, she had an open book in her hands. Not that she had read any of it. At least her breathing had stilled.
Rothwell stood in the doorway. "It's done. Mama is not happy about it, but she will accompany us to Town."
"Thank you." Lucinda set the book aside, then rushed to her brother and hugged him. "There are two things I do not understand. Why is Mama so reluctant to go to London? And is the Season truly that busy?"
"To one who has not had a Season, it does not seem possible, but yes." Louisa pulled a face. "Balls, dinners, breakfasts, morning visits, picnics, the theater and opera, Almack's ... and those are just the most common entertainments. When I came out last year, it took me more than two weeks to get used to it all."
"Not only that." Rothwell led Louisa to the sofa. "Worthington" — Louisa's brother — "insisted that she and her sister leave after supper because the younger children rose early in the morning. So, they weren't even up all night."
"Very true. I am not sure I could stay up all night. Especially now."
Her brother grinned. "In any event, we leave in a few days."
"But how will we manage it all? There is packing to do, and the servants to arrange, and —"
"Done, all of it." Rothwell patted his wife's knee. "Louisa was convinced Mama would change her mind. She put it all in motion over a week ago."
"Your mother does not know," Louisa said. "And please do not tell her."
"That brings me back to my first question. Why does Mama not wish to go to London? She used to like it a great deal."
Rothwell glanced at Louisa, who nodded. "When I returned last year, I discovered Father had suffered from dementia. Consequently, he forgot he had a wife and family. That not only embarrassed our mother — she didn't even tell me until I had started asking questions about the finances — but it caused her to feel ashamed that she'd done nothing." He shrugged. "Not that there was much she could have done with me in Canada."
"Your brother and I feel that she needs to go back into Polite Society, and the only way we could think of doing it was to insist she be present for your Season. It is also true that I cannot, with a new baby, do all the entertaining and gadding about that will be required to fire you off successfully. Aside from that, she loves you and wants to see you settled. That said, she does not understand — or, rather, agree — with my decision to nurse Alexandria. She would much rather I hand my child over to Nurse." Louisa chuckled. "In some ways, Nurse would like that as well. But I was not raised that way, and neither will my children be."
Well, that was more than anyone had told Lucinda before. "She almost never mentions Papa anymore. Do you think there will be gossip?"
Louisa exchanged a glance with Rothwell, then said, "No. There have been other events that have overshadowed your father's behavior before he died."
"His friends," Rothwell said, taking up the story, "know what happened, and they do not blame him for excesses over which he had no control. I think all will be fine, and Mama will enjoy being back in London."
"What would you have done if she had not agreed?"
"I had one more card to play." Her brother's lips twisted into a grim smile. "I would have told her Louisa was not up to holding a ball in your honor if she had to escort you everywhere."
Louisa's eyes widened in shock. "I can see how that would work. Although, I never actually had a ball in my honor. None of us did. Grace had no time to plan one because of all the weddings."
"Just as well." Rothwell put his arm around Louisa and pulled her closer. "Some other gentleman might have found you."
She smiled lovingly at him. "I think I was waiting for you and did not know it."
Love was grand, but they seemed to have forgotten Lucinda was in the room. She cleared her throat. "Should I go to Mama?"
Rothwell gave a start, which, for some reason, pleased Lucinda to no end. "I did not know you were still here."
Obviously, otherwise he would not have kissed his wife. "I was able to work that out all on my own."
He flushed, and his voice was gruffer when he said, "Yes, well. I would not go to her now, but you may tell your maid to begin packing."
Lucinda had to stop herself from skipping out of the room. She hadn't engaged in such behavior in years, but if she were to do it, now would be the perfect time. Instead, she strode as swiftly as she could, almost racing up the stairs to her chamber.
"Greene, come quickly." Lucinda opened the door to the dressing room. Empty. Where could she be? She reached for the bellpull and tugged it.
Several moments later, her maid entered the room. "My lady?"
"Not a word to anyone yet. The matter has finally been settled. We are going to London in a few days."
"That's what the senior staff thought would happen." Greene nodded. "And a good thing it is too. You deserve to have your come out, and no one could expect her grace to chaperone you all by herself. I'll make sure all the clothes you're taking are ready, then have the trunks brought down."
The clothes I'm taking? "Why wouldn't I bring everything?"
"You'll have new gowns waiting for a final fitting once we get to London." Greene went into the dressing room, as if that answered Lucinda's question.
Not willing to let the comment go, she followed on her maid's heels. "How would I have new garments waiting?"
"I gave her grace's maid your measurements when we were here at Christmas. She sent them to her grace's modiste."
Christmas! Louisa had been that sure Lucinda would have her Season. Her good opinion of her sister-in-law rose even higher. Since Lucinda did not have to worry about garments, she could begin gathering the other things she wished to take. After all, she might not return at the end of the Season.
* * *
Early April 1816
Mayfair, London, England
Gerald, Earl Elliott, strode out of his mother's parlor, up the corridor, into the hall, and out the front door of his house on Mount Street, almost forgetting to take his hat and cane from his butler.
The woman was going to drive him mad with her demands to redecorate every public room in the house. Not that he liked the Egyptian furniture that was there now. But it was his house, and he wished to redecorate it as he liked. And who knew what Mother would select this time. After all, she was the one who chose that horrible Egyptian stuff in the first place. Unfortunately, his mother — as she frequently reminded him — had possession of the town house until he married.
He should have stayed in the country, but Parliament had been called into session last month, and Gerald did not like to be absent in the event something momentous occurred. Yet at this time of year, the Lords mostly dealt with accounts and divorces. Although, if something crucial did happen, he had a list of peers to whom he'd promised to send urgent messages. Those lucky fellows had stayed at home with their families. Perhaps when he wed, he'd remain in the country as well.
Mayhap this was the year he'd find himself enthralled enough by a lady to propose marriage. The problem was, no matter how beautiful, or talented, or desirable a lady was, he never seemed to discover he was intrigued by her until she was betrothed to another.
Was fate playing tricks on him, or was it just poor luck that he had not noticed Ladies Charlotte and Louisa, now the Marchioness of Kenilworth and the Duchess of Rothwell, respectively, until it was too late? Not that he would let anyone know about his lack of perspicacity. Not only was he friends with both of their husbands, he'd seen them spar at Jackson's and had no desire to be on the receiving end of any punishment they might decide was right and honorable. It had also happened with Miss Turley, now the Countess of Harrington. How could Gerald be so blind to a lady's attributes?
Perhaps he simply hadn't met the right woman. That must be it. When the lady he was meant to wed came along, he'd know it immediately. Just as his friends had. He wished his mother could understand that.
He turned onto Carlos Place and skirted Berkeley Square as he headed to Jermyn Street, where his rooms were located. Once he wed, he'd move into his house and send his mother to her dower property, or wherever she decided to go. He could even buy her a house in Mayfair. The only time they didn't rub on well together was during spring and autumn, when the ton was in Town and the young ladies were having their Seasons.
When he reached the corner of Piccadilly and Saint James Street, he decided to go to his club instead of his rooms. Someone must have come to the metropolis in preparation of the Season. He mounted the steps to Brooks in anticipation.
After being greeted by a footman and ordering a glass of claret, Gerald strolled into the morning room to find the Marquis of Quorndon with his nose in a newssheet. Gerald had known Quorndon since Eton, and, although they were not close, they were on good terms.
"Quorndon, what brings you to Town?" Gerald took a seat on a leather chair next to the other man. Light green walls made the room look larger than it was. Various seating areas, all with comfortable dark leather chairs, were grouped around the room.
Lowering his paper, Quorndon replied, "Several things. The Lords." He gave Gerald a slight smile. "I depend on you to tell me what has been going on, if anything. Mainly, I came at my mother's behest. She has found me a lady she believes I would like to marry."
That was not surprising. Mothers always seemed to be finding ladies they would like their sons to wed. "Is she anyone I know?"
"I doubt it." Quorndon flicked open an elegant enameled and jeweled snuff box, took a pinch, and sniffed. Nasty habit, that. "She was meant to come out last year, but her father died. She is the elder of Rothwell's sisters. I believe her name is Lady Lucinda. Yes, I'm certain that must be it. My mother has mentioned it enough for me to remember."
If one were looking strictly at bloodlines, it was an excellent match. "What does Rothwell have to say about it?"
"Why, nothing at all. If he even knows." One of Quorndon's dark blond brows rose. "Strangely enough, the dowager duchess is the lady's sole guardian."
How had that come about? Normally, a lady would have two guardians, and one of them would be her brother. At least in this case. Still, there was nothing objectionable about Quorndon, after all. "I wish you luck."
"Thank you." Quorndon inclined his head. "However, I doubt luck will have anything to do with it. I shall meet the lady to establish if we would get on well enough to produce heirs. If that is determined to my satisfaction, we shall wed." He settled back into the chair. "Now, about the Lords."
Gerald studied the other man as he briefly reviewed what had or had not occurred over the past several weeks; Quorndon didn't appear to care about any of it. His snuff seemed to hold more interest for him than bills that would change the lives of the common people of England. In fact, just about everything seemed to bore him. Gerald hoped Quorndon had more interest in the lady he might be marrying, but even that was doubtful.
Perhaps he might benefit from a change. "Why don't you travel the Continent now that Bony is secured again?"
Quorndon gave an elegant shudder. "My dear Elliott, no thank you. I enjoy my creature-comforts. I have been told the highways in France are worse than our country lanes. Once they have been repaired and the French court has regained its former elegance, I may visit."
Well, there was no pleasing some people. Particularly when they did not wish to be pleased.
When Gerald married, he was determined to take an extended wedding trip to France, and Italy as well. He gave himself a shake. Until recently, he'd not given marriage much thought, but it seemed to be cropping up in his mind a great deal lately. If that was what he wanted, he'd better make sure the lady would like to travel as well. He'd also better hope he recognized the lady. This becoming attracted to ladies who were already attached really wasn't doing him any good.
A breeze moved the air, and he glanced up. Rothwell. Gerald's friend grinned at him, but merely nodded to Quorndon. If that was the way the wind blew, the marquis would have a harder time courting Lady Lucinda than he'd thought. Rothwell might not be his sister's guardian, but Gerald would bet his purse that he had a great deal of influence, and so would the new Duchess of Rothwell.
"Quorndon, I see you made it to Town," Rothwell said rather impatiently as he strode into the morning room.
With a sardonic smile, Quorndon spread out his arms theatrically. "As you see. My mother informed me that my presence is required."
"Matchmaking, is she?" Rothwell signaled to a waiter.
Quorndon's brows snapped together. "You don't know then?"
Shaking his head, Rothwell asked, "Know what?"
"It appears our mothers have decided your sister and I would make a good match." Quorndon took anotherpinch of snuff.
"Hell and damnation!" Several heads in the room turned toward them, and Quorndon's visage became a mask of barely suppressed fury. "Forgive me." Rothwell rubbed one temple. "It has nothing to do with you in particular."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "I'll Always Love You"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Ella Quinn.
Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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