A Spinster for a Spy: Book 1: Lily - Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters: The Elbury Bouquet) Read online

  A Duke’s Daughters –

  The Elbury Bouquet - Book 1

  Clean Regency Romance

  A Spinster for a Spy

  Arietta Richmond

  Dreamstone Publishing © 2019

  www.dreamstonepublishing.com

  Copyright © 2019 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond,

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this work may be copied without the author’s permission.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-925915-13-6

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organisations, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Dedication

  For everyone who had the grace to be patient while this book, and every other book that I have written, was coming into existence, who provided cups of tea, and food, when the writing would not let me go, and endured countless times being asked for opinions.

  For the readers who inspire me to continue writing, by buying my books! Especially for those of you who have taken the time to email me, or to leave reviews, and tell me what you love about my books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening. I hope that you enjoy this new series (which features some appearances by old favourite characters from the His Majesty’s Hounds series), just as much as my other books.

  For my growing team of beta readers and advance reviewers – it’s thanks to you that others can enjoy these books in the best presentation possible!

  And for all the writers of Regency Historical Romance, whose books I read, who inspired me to write in this fascinating period.

  Table of Contents

  A Spinster for a Spy

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Here is your preview of A Vixen for a Viscount

  Chapter One

  Books in the ‘His Majesty’s Hounds’ Series

  Books in ‘The Derbyshire Set’

  Regency Collections with Other Authors

  Books in the Nettlefold Chronicles

  Other Books from Dreamstone Publishing

  Books by Arietta Richmond

  His Majesty’s Hounds

  Claiming the Heart of a Duke

  Intriguing the Viscount

  Giving a Heart of Lace

  From Soldier Spy to Lord (contains the first three books in one volume)

  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

  Loving the Bitter Baron

  Falling for the Earl

  Rescuing the Countess

  Betting on a Lady’s Heart

  Attracting the Spymaster

  Courting a Spinster for Christmas

  Restoring the Earl’s Honour

  The Regency Scandals Series

  The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

  Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love (coming soon)

  Christmas with That Duke (coming soon)

  The Nettlefold Chronicles

  The Duke and the Spinster

  To Dance with the Dangerous Duke

  A Duke in Autumn (coming soon)

  A Christmas Bride for the Duke (coming soon)

  A Duke’s Daughters – The Elbury Bouquet

  A Spinster for a Spy (Lily)

  A Vixen for a Viscount (Hyacinth) (coming soon)

  A Bluestocking for a Baron (Rose) (coming soon)

  A Diamond for a Duke (Camellia) (coming soon)

  A Minx for a Merchant (Primrose) (coming soon)

  An Enchantress for an Earl (Violet) (coming soon)

  A Maiden for a Marquess (Iris) (coming soon)

  A Heart for an Heir (Thorne) (coming soon)

  The Derbyshire Set

  A Gift of Love (Prequel short story)

  A Devil’s Bargain (Prequel short story - coming soon)

  The Earl’s Unexpected Bride

  The Captain’s Compromised Heiress

  The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair

  The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 1

  (contains the first three books in a single volume.)

  The Count’s Impetuous Seduction

  The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption

  The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress

  The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 2

  (contains the second three books in a single volume.)

  A Remembered Face (Bonus short story – coming soon)

  The Marchioness’ Second Chance

  A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion (coming soon)

  Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish

  The Duke’s Improper Love (coming soon)

  Other Books

  The Scottish Governess (coming soon)

  The Earl’s Reluctant Fiancée (coming soon)

  The Crew of the Seadragon’s Soul Series,

  (coming soon - a set of 10 linked novels)

  Chapter One

  “You, my dear sister, are a spinster. You cannot deny it any longer.”

  Thorne Gardenbrook, Marquess of Wildenhall, smiled smugly at his sister as he spoke.

  “I am not a spinster! Certainly, I may be older than the age at which most girls marry… but I simply have not yet found a man that I care to marry.”

  Lady Lily Gardenbrook glared at her brother. He shook his head sadly.

  “You delude yourself, Lily. You are two and twenty, and this will be your fourth Season – why do you not choose a man – it’s not as if you have no suitors. I have introduced you to half the ton, in this last few years!”

  “I do not choose any of them, because they are all horrible! They care nothing for me, for who I am – all they see is a Duke’s daughter with a large dowry, and a figure which is not unappealing.”

  Thorne laughed, but his expression was serious when he spoke next.

  “You may well be right, but I do not know that you can hope for the sort of love that our parents have – and you have been hoping for that, haven’t you? Very few are lucky enough to marry someone that they love. And, in the end, better a marriage based on simple liking, than a lifetime alone and lonely.”

  “I have, indeed, been hoping for love. I am not sure that I could live with someone I barely liked – and most of the eligible men I don’t like at all. If you are so sure that I should find someone this Season, then you had best introduce me to some new possibilities – for I refuse to contemplate those I already know.”

  Thorne frowned, and Lily knew that he truly did care what happened to her, and to all of her sisters. As brothers went, he was good – generally helpful, protective, and even willing to join in with mischief at times. And, though she would not admit it to him, he was right – she needed to act soon, to find a man to marry – for her sisters were not married either, and she suspected that they were holding back until Lily married. She sighed, and forced a
smile onto her face. Thorne frowned again, shaking his head.

  “I will try – but, truthfully, those you have not met are not of the kind of character that I would have my sister marry. Rakes, gamblers and fortune hunters make up a deplorable amount of society.”

  “Thank you - trying is all that either of us can do.”

  Thorne rose, and left the room.

  Lily leant back into the embrace of the old armchair, staring blankly into the flickering flames in the grate before her. The book of poetry which she had been reading when Thorne came into the room still lay on her lap. Her fingers traced its cover, and her thoughts twisted in the never-ending circle that they had followed for three years now.

  For there was more to her refusal of all suitors than simply the fact that none had inspired her to love. Her refusal was grounded in fear – a fear that her closely guarded secret would be discovered, that a husband would take from her the one thing which she most enjoyed. The thing which was, most certainly, not something which a lady of the ton could do, with the approval of society.

  <<<< O >>>>

  Trent Weatherton, Marquess of Canterford, inhaled deeply as he stepped through the door of Bigglesworth’s Books. There was something about the scent of books which spoke to his soul, which brought to mind winter afternoons ensconced in his library, by the fire, with a volume of poetry, or perhaps a history, or even, though he would not admit it to other gentlemen, a novel.

  Mr Bigglesworth greeted him with a smile.

  “Good day to ye, my Lord. I’ve a few volumes I think you’ll like, if you’ve the time after your meeting?”

  “Excellent, Bigglesworth – I always have the time for books.”

  Bigglesworth waved him past, and he slipped through the dusty curtain behind the counter, and into the dimness of the back corridor.

  The rickety looking stairs were silent beneath his feet, as always, and the ancient looking door at the top was solid beneath his fingers. He knocked.

  “Enter.”

  The room was everything that might not be expected. It was large, clean, and well lit by large glass windows all along one side. A rug of a quality which would not be out of place in a stately home graced the floor, and the couches that surrounded it were exquisitely carved and upholstered. The man who rose from one of them to greet him was of middling height, unremarkable except for his piercing grey eyes. Trent went forward to him.

  “Lord Setford. I trust that your summons does not come due to bad news?”

  “No, no. Nothing difficult this time, m’boy. Although you may not be enthusiastic about it. Do sit – the coffee is on the side table, if you’ve a mind to taste it.”

  “Your coffee is always worth drinking Lord Setford.”

  Trent sank onto the couch, and poured himself a cup of the strong bitter liquid from the pot that sat there. He marvelled, again, at how Setford always managed to have perfect coffee waiting, no matter when a man arrived at his door.

  “Good, Good. Now, let’s to business. You understand the scope of the responsibilities you’ve been granted, I trust?”

  “I do, if that is no more or less than you previously told me.”

  “It is. But what you may not have truly grasped, is the way in which you might best achieve what is needed.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes – if you thought that what I asked would allow you to avoid society events – as I know you’ve had a tendency to do for this last year and more, since your father’s death – then you were mistaken. That’s what I wanted to discuss today. If you are going to serve the Crown by managing and preventing civil unrest and treasonous activities within England, then you will need to be always gathering intelligence – not simply through the men I have assigned you, but yourself. For the greatest threats to England have as often come from amongst our own, as from abroad, and from amongst the aristocracy in particular. The poor rarely have the money or the time to stir up trouble, unlike our peers.”

  Trent studied Setford’s face, wondering where this was going.

  “I can see the truth in that. But… what do you want me to do? I freely admit that I am still learning the techniques which you so effortlessly apply.”

  Setford laughed, a full rich sound, and nodded.

  “And that is exactly why I chose you, Canterford. You are willing to learn – you are astute, and observant – and that is exactly what I am asking you to act on. I need you to get about in society more, to become the man who is invited to all of the major hostesses’ events, who is so well known that no one looks at him twice. For when you achieve that, you can move among them, observing everything, and no one will notice you doing so. If you get it right, half of them will even tell you their secrets voluntarily.”

  Trent sat for a moment, staring out of the windows at the rooftops of London, where dirtied snow slowly melted on soot covered slate. He took a deep breath and turned back to Setford.

  “You, my Lord, are quite the most devious man I have ever met.”

  Setford laughed again, and gave a little seated bow.

  “Glad you’ve realised that, m’boy.”

  “You know full well that if you had spoken of this requirement, when we first discussed me joining the ranks of the King’s spies, I would likely have refused you. Instead you played upon my sense of duty, and my need to do something more than manage my estates, to move past my grief at my father’s death. And now that I have fully committed to you, to serving the Crown in this way, you drop this upon me. I shudder at the very thought of endless evenings spent in the ballrooms and salons of London, eyed off, like a prime piece of horseflesh in the ring at Tattersall’s, by all of those husband-hunting young women.”

  “Which is exactly why you are the right man for the job. You’ll be focussed on what needs to be done, not on carousing and flirting.” Trent winced, but nodded. Setford had the right of it, and he would not attempt to back away from the course he had committed to. Honour demanded that he be true to his word. “I will make it a little easier for you – I can guarantee you invitations from quite a few who also have some… relationship… to our work, to smooth your way into it. But it is up to you to appear as carefree as possible – like a man recently released from mourning who relishes the chance to go about in society.”

  “I can act the part, but I can’t promise not to curse you in the privacy of my mind, if I find it all unutterably tedious!”

  Setford laughed that hearty laugh again.

  “I can’t ask more than that m’boy – and who knows, you might even enjoy some of it.”

  Trent nodded, but his expression was dubious enough that it drew another laugh from Setford. Ruefully, he found himself laughing too.

  “Did I really look that horrified by the idea?”

  “You did, m’boy, you did.”

  “Well then, I will need to practise my dissembling, won’t I? We can’t have the hostesses of society realising just what I really think of their balls and soirees.”

  “You will indeed. And you can start tomorrow.”

  Setford lifted an embossed card from the table beside him, and passed it to Trent. Trent took it, hesitantly, as if it might bite, somehow. He felt, in that instant, as if something portentous would be started, simply by the act of reading that card. He shook the whimsical thought aside, and bent his eyes to the card.

  ‘The Duke and Duchess of Elbury would be pleased to welcome the Marquess of Canterford to a Soiree to be held at Elbury House.’

  The direction followed, and the stated date of the event was, as Setford had said, the following day.

  “What did you tell them of me?”

  Setford smiled.

  “Very little – except that you are a friend, recently out of mourning, and wishing to re-establish himself in society. But Marcus, the Duke, no matter how genially blustering he may appear, is as astute as you are – he will understand that I have a purpose in assisting you with invitations, and he will also know not to ask. Just attend, observe,
and try to enjoy yourself and look natural.”

  Trent could not prevent the snort of laughter that escaped him.

  “Look natural? I have never, in my life, truly been comfortable amongst crowds of my peers – so perhaps natural is the wrong word. But I will try to look as if I actually want to be there.”

  Chapter Two

  Trent stepped down from the carriage and eyed the imposing home before him. Elbury House spoke of wealth, and prosperity, in every line of its façade. A number of other carriages drew up to set down their passengers as he made his way up the steps. He wondered just how large this soiree would be – it was only February, and the Season would not really begin for another month or so – yet it appeared that this might still be a fairly large event.

  He drew a deep breath, his cravat suddenly feeling too tight. He could not hesitate. This was where the rest of his life began. Since his father’s death, he had allowed himself to use mourning as an excuse – an excuse to not step out into society as ‘the Marquess of Canterford’ – to not discover if the cream of society thought him worthy to fill his father’s place in the world.

  That excuse was no longer available, and his commitment to the Crown, via Lord Setford, allowed him no further avoidance. Tonight, he would discover how they had judged him. He was not at all sure that he wanted to know.

  He joined the receiving line, handing off his hat and outer coat to the waiting footman. He was announced, and went forward to be greeted by the Duke and Duchess. The Duke was a kindly looking man, with greying hair that had once been a rich mahogany colour, of which traces remained. Trent bowed, and the Duke looked him up and down, then gave the tiniest nod.

  “It’s good to see you out and about, Canterford. Mourning saps the energy out of a man, after too long. Do let us know,” here he inclined his head in the direction of his Duchess, who was smiling broadly, “if you’d like an introduction to anyone.” He then indicated the young man standing at his other side. “Let’s start that with an introduction to my son. Canterford, may I present Thorne Gardenbrook, Marquess of Wildenhall.”