A Worthington Wedding

Book 1: Here Come the Grooms

by Ella Quinn

Genres: Regency Romance

Synopsis

Three dashing heroes of the ton search for their perfect matches in this delightful new series set in the world of bestselling author Ella Quinn’s beloved Worthingtons and their extended family, where there’s never a dull moment—or a lack of tempting romance . . .

Charlie, Earl of Stanwood, is at his gentleman’s club when he overhears from a nearby card game that the Viscount Ognon plans to gamble away a property in which some of his family live. Charlie takes a dim view of those who mistreat their dependents, and though he rarely gambles, he always wins. This time is no different. Triumphant, Charlie is determined to sign the property over to the appropriate family member . . .

Miss Oriana Ognon comes from a family in which the men are incorrigible gamblers, while the women mitigate the losses. Fortunately, she inherited her estate from a maternal aunt and is independent of her cousin, who repeatedly attempts to gamble it away. Needless to say, when the Earl of Stanwood comes to call, he is promptly presented with proof of Oriana’s homeownership—and no offer of refreshment. . . . Even if he was the handsomest man she’d ever seen . . .

Intrigued by headstrong Oriana, Charles sets out to discover more about her—and concludes she may be exactly the wife he’s looking for. Meanwhile, Oriana learns more about Charles, and her interest is piqued. But as saboteurs and rivals compromise their possible future together, they just might find themselves in an irresistibly compromising position of their own . . .

Release date: November 26, 2024

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 384

Sample

Brooks’s Gentlemen’s Club, London, June 1823

Accompanied by his two best friends, Leo, Duke of Chandos, and Bennet, Earl of Rochford, Charles, the Earl of Stanwood, lounged on one of the red velvet sofas in Brooks’s subscription room. The club was the refuge used mainly by Whigs. Unlike White’s, which was frequented by Tories. Charlie admired the vaulted ceiling and muted blue-green walls. It was a respite from the crowded ballrooms and assembly rooms he’d been subject to all Season. It was also not as empty as his town house on Berkeley Square. Although generally reserved for reading, the subscription room had tables available for gambling. A glass of brandy swung gently from Charlie’s two fingers as he watched a game of whist taking place.

In front of him, between where he and his friends were seated and the table, two other gentlemen stood by watching the play as well.

“I say, is Ognon about to wager his house?” the taller of the two men, Sir Raymond Shields said.

His companion, Lord Westerly, took a pinch of snuff. “I believe he is.”

“I thought he had a sister or cousin living there,” Shields commented.

“I wonder if she comes with the property.” Westerly barked a laugh.

“That would only be worth it if she was comely.” Shields smirked.

Charlie’s grip on his glass tightened. Disgusting rips. How they could call themselves gentlemen was beyond his comprehension.

“She won’t be living there long. Look at the way Ognon is playing,” Westerly said.

Charlie never understood—would never understand—how men who called themselves gentlemen could put their dependents in danger. Especially their female relatives. He placed his glass on the table in front of him.

Rochford laid a hand on Charlie’s arm. “You can’t save everyone.”

“No, but I can save this one.” And he would.

“Stanwood, you don’t gamble.” A sense of urgency entered Rochford’s voice.

Charlie placed his hands on the chair arms. “Simply because I usually do not doesn’t mean I cannot.”

“You have obviously never played whist with his family,” Chandos drawled. “If it hadn’t been for penny stakes, I would have been going to the money lenders.” Charlie rose. “Stanwood, who is that sister of yours who would have bankrupted me?”

“Theo.” He stepped over to the game and glanced at the gentleman acting as the bank. “Be a good fellow and deal me in.”

“I’ll need your note for four thousand quid.”

He took out a small pocketbook, wrote the chit, and handed it to the bank. After shuffling the cards, the man acting as the bank turned to the player on his right to cut the cards. The bank delt the cards and placed three cards face up on the table. Charlie collected his cards, arranged them, and picked one card from those on the table. He studied the number of cards the others took. Seven rounds later, only he and Ognon were left. Charlie laid down his hand. The king, queen, and jack of hearts. He’d won, but that was no surprise. He might not gamble often, but he’d been taught by the best.

The other man threw down his cards. “Damn your luck, Stanwood.”

“Ognon, I’ll take your note for the property and meet with you tomorrow at my house at one o’clock to effect the transfer.” Standing, he executed a short bow. “Gentlemen, have a good evening.”

“I’ll have the balsam by then,” Ognon objected.

“In that case, you should not have made the wager.” Charlie raised his quizzer and focused it on the other man. “No, thank you. You wagered the house, and I find I have a fancy for another property. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ognon’s face turned as white as a ghost’s, then flushed deep red. “As you wish.”

“If that isn’t just like Stanwood,” Sir Raymond said. “Don’t play for the whole Season, then takes the pot.”

“Damn good thing he doesn’t do it regular,” Lord Westerly said with feeling. “None of us would have a feather to fly.”

“Congratulations.” Rochford slapped Charlie’s back as he rejoined his friends.

He folded the note and tucked it into his waistcoat pocket. “I’ll be leaving for Stanwood in a few days if you’d like to join me. The family will be there in about three or four weeks.”

“What are you going to do about the house?” Rochford asked.

“Sign it over to the lady who is living there. She should not again be put in danger of losing her home.”

“She wouldn’t be if you owned it,” Chandos commented as he got to his feet.

“Absent her relative’s behavior, it would never have come into my hands. It will go to her.”

His friend nodded. “As I thought. Do you have any idea where it’s located?”

Charlie had a vague idea. Ognon’s main estate was not more than a day’s ride from Stanwood. “I believe so. I’ll know more tomorrow.”

“I’ll come with you to Stanwood.” Rochford finished his brandy. “I’m getting tired of Town.”

“I’ll join you as well.” Chandos tossed off his wine. “My mistress is becoming a bit too grasping.”

Charlie almost rolled his eyes. The duke was famous for choosing a different mistress every Season and flaunting her. He’d never seen one last until the end. “You can use the time to select a parting gift for her.”

“I’ll send my secretary. I never know what to buy. He does a much better job than I do.”

After collecting their hats and canes from the porter, they stepped onto the pavement. Chandos bid them a good night and strolled toward his house on St. James Square, while Rochford and Charlie continued down St. James Street toward Piccadilly.

The following afternoon, a soberly dressed man was shown into Charlie’s study at Stanwood House.

His butler bowed. “My lord, Mr. Withers to see you on behalf of Lord Ognon.”

“Mr. Withers, please, have a seat. The first thing I’d like to know is why Ognon isn’t here.”

The man sat in one of the chairs in front of Charlie’s desk. “As to that I do not know, my lord. I arrived at my office this morning to find a missive from Lord Ognon giving me a brief idea of what happened last evening and asking that I attempt to convince you to accept funds in lieu of the property.”

Charlie stifled a sigh. “I joined the game because I wanted the house. Ergo, I will only accept the house.”

The man nodded several times before taking a breath. “As to that, I have never represented his lordship in any property matters. You have his note. And I assume you are aware that the transfer must be properly done.”

Charlie inclined his head. “You will have to gather the particulars from his lordship and return with the transfer legally written.” Withers started to rise and stopped. “May I ask why you wish to have the house?”

Not that it was the solicitor’s business, but Charlie decided to answer his question. “I do not approve of wagering the homes of one’s dependents. I will transfer the house to the lady whose home it is.”

A tight smile, actually more of a grimace, appeared on the other man’s face. “I understand. I will bring you the documents tomorrow if that is convenient for you, my lord.”

“I prefer you take them to my solicitor, Mr. Throckmorton of Throckmorton and Throckmorton. I assume you know of them.”

This time the man rose. “I do, my lord. I wish you a good day.”

Royston, Charlie’s butler, was standing by to show the man out. Charlie leaned back against the chair and tapped a pencil on his desk. Why the devil would Ognon offer the house when he could access the funds? Something wasn’t right.

A knock came on the door and Augusta Carter-Woods, more properly known as Lady Phineas Carter-Woods, his sister by marriage, who along with her husband and small son was living with him, entered. “Phinn and I would like to know when you are planning to quit Town.”

“In just a few days. Do you wish to remain here?” Before Charlie had finished his sentence, he’d seen the relief in her eyes.

“Not at all. We would like to go with you, at least as far as Stanwood.” A frown marred her brow. “I might as well tell you the whole thing.” He waved her to a seat, and she gracefully lowered herself onto it. “We had luncheon with his brother and sister-in-law.” The Marquess and Marchioness of Dorchester. The couple had tried for years to have a son, to no avail. Augusta and Phinn had had a son who was now almost two years old. “Everything was going well until we were getting ready to leave and one of their younger daughters asked when Anthony was going to come live with them. I told them that had not been decided.” She glanced down at her hands. “Indeed, I really had no idea where she had got the idea my son would live with them at all.”

“Did you discover that it has been mentioned to Phinn?”

A decidedly militant look appeared on Augusta’s face. “I did. Apparently, this is not the first time the idea has come up. Can you imagine? His sister-in-law wanted to take him when he was six months old. She had even hired a wet nurse!”

Charlie could see from where the idea sprang. Anthony, after Phinn of course, was heir to the marquisate. However, Charlie had enough trust in Matt Worthington, his eldest sister Grace’s husband, earl, head of their sprawling family, his former guardian, and Augusta’s brother and former guardian, to know he would have had the foresight to add something to the settlement agreements with Dorchester in the event Phinn and Augusta had a son. “Where is Phinn now?”

“With Matt.” Augusta worriedly picked at the fringe of her brightly colored shawl.

“I’d be shocked if he hasn’t already taken care of any problems.”

“Yes.” She nodded, but her lips had formed a thin line. “I would simply feel better if we were out of Town. Aside from that, we plan to go to Scotland this summer to conduct some research.”

“Very well. Be ready to leave in two to three days.” Having traveled with his sister and her husband, Charlie knew she was quite capable of organizing his entire household for the journey.

She glanced from her shawl to him. “I will take care of all the arrangements, shall I?”

One less thing for him to do. “Yes, please.”

Augusta rose. “I’ll see you at dinner if you plan to dine at home.”

Before he could answer she was out of the room. He stared at the door. “I will be here, along with two friends.”

The next afternoon, Throckmorton arrived at Stanwood House. “My lord, this property transfer is most irregular. I do not like it at all.”

Royston arrived with tea, and Charlie poured two cups. That wasn’t surprising. Ognon seemed to be a much looser fish than Charlie had originally thought. “How so?”

“There is no accurate description of the property, only the name and location.”

That was odd. “On the transfer document?” His solicitor nodded. “Is it legal?”

“As it identifies the property it is, but there is no title. As I said, I don’t like it.” Throckmorton sipped his tea. “It is more than that as well. I just cannot put my finger on it.”

“Where is the house?” Charlie hoped he wouldn’t have to travel half the country to go there.

“Not at all far from Stanwood. In fact, the next village over.”

Strange. He didn’t remember Ognon’s lands being so close. “What is the name?”

“Rose Hill, in the village of Liliford.”

Liliford was quite close. In fact, Charlie, as his father and grandfather and so on before him, considered it his to look after. “I’m leaving Town the day after tomorrow. I’ll take the document with me and find out what the status is when I get there.”

His solicitor finished his tea and placed the papers on the desk before rising. “Thank you, my lord. I would appreciate being apprised of what happens.”

“Yes, of course.” He didn’t think the man’s lawyer was any better than Ognon. “I’ll walk you out.”

Throckmorton stood and bowed. “Thank you, my lord.”

They reached the hall, and Charlie bid his solicitor farewell. Around him, servants dashed around carrying objects, cleaning, and putting thick coats of wax on wooden surfaces. At some point he’d have to hire more staff to remain in Town. He’d thought to leave it to a wife, but after two years of searching for one, he was still unmarried. He started up the stairs to his chambers. Yet this was not the time to worry about his bachelor state. As Grace always said, things come in their own time and way. He’d see her this evening, along with the rest of the family, for one of their many dinners together. She would already know they were departing Town. In this family, there were no secrets.

A deep bark echoed from the upper floor. Minerva. Augusta’s Great Dane. It was answered by an even deeper one. Apollo. His Dane, who had been born just after Augusta had given birth to Anthony. The pair were fast friends. Anthony and Apollo, that was. Minerva acted like a nurse to both of them. What were the dogs arguing about?

One of the nursemaids came flying down the stairs.

“Why are the dogs barking?”

“Apollo tried to crawl into bed with Master Anthony as he was waking up from his nap, and Minerva made him leave. He’s got too big. Apollo, that is.”

“Thank you.” Perhaps Anthony needed a larger bed. That, then, begged the question of how much longer Augusta and her family would be residing with Charlie.

The maid bobbed a curtsey and continued her journey.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost time to get ready to cross the square to Worthington House for dinner.

When he arrived, he found his entire family present. All his sisters, both by birth and by marriage, their husbands and older children, his nieces and nephews, as well as his cousins by marriage and their children. Even the babies were present. As he was greeting everyone, the nursemaids came for the infants.

He pulled one of his two elder sisters, Charlotte, Marchioness of Kenilworth, aside. “I will need a hostess for the entertainments I must hold when we all gather this summer, and for the neighbors. Will you help me?”

She laid her hand on his arm and smiled. “Of course.” She glanced around the room at their other sisters. “I expect I will have a great deal of assistance.”

“No doubt.” His gaze landed on Theo, Lady Theodora Vivers, age seventeen, and his youngest sister by marriage, who was speaking with Mary, Lady Mary Carpenter, age fourteen, his youngest sister. Theo would be coming out next year and would be glad of the practice. Mary had a few years yet, but she’d assist as well. Even though there was a three-year age difference, they had formed a fast bond even before Grace married Matt. Charlie, as well as his brothers and sisters and Matt’s sisters, had all agreed to be one family. Charlie felt the same sisterly love for Louisa, Augusta, Madeline, and Theo Vivers as he felt for Charlotte, Alice, Eleanor, and Mary. His sisters, with the exception of the two youngest, had wed gentlemen he greatly respected and liked. And in three weeks or so, they would all descend upon Charlie’s main estate, Stanwood Place, for the yearly family gathering.

“I have decided to depart in two days if anyone wishes to travel north with me,” he said to the room in general.

Mary glanced at Theo, who nodded. “We would like to come, if Grace agrees.”

“Yes, of course,” Grace said. “It will give you time with your friends in the area before the rest of us arrive.”

“Phinn, Anthony, and I are departing with Charlie as well,” Augusta said.

Matt, a concerned look on his face, glanced at Phinn and nodded. Charlie would have to speak with Phinn as well to find out what he and Matt had decided to do about any possible problems concerning Anthony.

The butler announced dinner, and Dotty, the Marchioness of Merton, his friend and cousin by marriage, linked her arm with his. “Dom and I will be in the area soon as well. We need to spend time with my parents as well as Madeline and Harry.” Dotty’s brother and his wife, Madeline, Charlie’s sister by marriage.

He grinned to himself. Rochford and Chandos had never been subjected to his whole family at one time. It should be interesting. Actually, Rochford would be fine. Chandos on the other hand . . .

Miss Oriana Ognon paced the floor of her study, stopping occasionally to scowl at the crumpled letter in her hand. If her cousin had been present, she would have hit him over the head with the fireplace poker and shoved the paper down his throat. The worthless here-and-therein.

She perused the missive again.

Yer servant, Ognon

“You, you dirty scoundrel!” She scowled at the note. “Marrying you would only ensure I lost my house for good.”

She crumpled the letter again, and just as she was about to throw it against the wall the door opened.

Aunt Prudence, more properly Lady Prudence Atherton, looked in the room. “I heard you yelling at someone.” She glanced around. “But no one appears to be here. Is anything the matter?”

Oriana threw the paper. It hit the window. “After he promised he would stop playing his stupid game, Ognon’s gambled away the house again.”

“Oh dear.” Her aunt frowned slightly. “That is unfortunate.”

Oriana went to her desk, unlocked it, took out a document, and assured herself it was a copy of her deed to the house and land. “I have to think of a way to stop him.”

Her aunt went to the window, picked up the paper, and flattened it out. “It does say he tried to offer the gentleman the funds. Oh!” One hand flew to her mouth. “I cannot believe he proposed again!” She dropped her hand. “Honestly, my dear. I know your mother loved your father, but his extended family leave much to be desired.”

“Gamblers, the lot of them. Even Papa had a tendency to gamble.”

“But he loved your mother enough to stop.”

Until her death.

“And he made certain you have nothing to worry about,” Aunt Prue said gently.

“That is true. Even if I had not inherited the house, I would have been quite well off.” Which might be one of the reasons her cousin was always looking for money. No. He was a gambler. He would always be in financial difficulty.

A knock came on the front door, and after several seconds another knock sounded. Oriana strode from her study on the first floor to the stairs to the hall, but no one came to answer it. Where was Figgs, her majordomo, or one of the footwomen? Just as Oriana was about to descend the stairs, Damry, the youngest and newest maid, dashed to the door, threw back the bolts, and opened it, bobbing a curtsey.

“Yes, sir?”

Oriana stepped back so that she could see who was there, but he could not see her. A gentleman handed the maid his card. “Please tell your mistress I would like to speak with her.”

“Yes, sir.” Damry closed the door and started to walk away, then went back and opened it again. “I’ll put you in the front parlor.”

What would the gentleman think of having the door slammed in his face, then be told he’d be “put” in the parlor, as if he was a piece of furniture? Oriana suppressed the laughter bubbling up inside her. At least the maid had had the presence of mind to lead him to the room off the hall reserved for visitors who would not be there very long. Once Damry had closed the door of the parlor, she started up the stairs, holding the card.

Oriana met her at the first landing and the maid handed her the card. “He’s the most handsomest man I ever did see.”

She ignored the remark and read the card.

Earl of Stanwood

That was it. Her rage rose again. She was done. It was time to take her worthless cousin to court.

“Thank you, Damry.” Oriana took a step and stopped. “Where is Figgs?”

“Polishing the silver below, miss. Mrs. Kerby is out shopping and needed both the footwomen to help her. It were faster for me to come.”

“You did a very good job.” Oriana smiled at the girl. She would have to remind her majordomo to spend some time teaching the maid to answer the door. She almost chuckled again at what the man had thought of having the door closed in his face.

“I’ll fetch Lady Prudence.” Before Oriana could tell her not to bother her aunt, that the gentleman would not be there long, the maid was scurrying down the corridor.

She descended the stairs and opened the parlor door. “I am Miss Ognon. I understand you came to see me.” She held out her hand. “Let me see the deed.”

His forehead wrinkled. If she did not know better, she would think he was concerned. “How did you know—” She motioned with her hand again, and he did as she asked.

“I understand you expect this house and the property are now yours; however, this deed is worthless. I already own them both. They came to me by my grandmother on my mother’s side and thus have never been part of the Ognon estate or entail. I can show you a copy of the deed”—she stressed the word “copy”—“if you do not wish to take my word. I will give you the direction of my solicitor.”

He tilted his head and had a perplexed look on his . . . oh, very well, his very handsome face. But no one who gambled could ever interest her. “No. No, thank you. Your word is sufficient. I had planned to sign the deed over to you so that this can’t happen again. But—”

She did not let him finish his sentence. “It is extremely unfortunate that none of you gentlemen bother to discover if the property actually belongs to the person gambling it away.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Often enough.” She looked up at him. “You are taking this quite well. Better than the last one.”

He shrugged. “I had no plans to keep it.”

“So you say. Have a nice trip back to Town. Damry will show you out.” Oriana opened the document and glanced at it. “This isn’t a deed.”

“I am aware.” Frowning, his lordship glanced out the window. “He offered to pay me the worth of the house, but I refused. I dislike intensely the idea that anyone would gamble or sell a property and deprive his dependents of their home. I thought to discover what needed to be done when I got here.”

That was a different tact. However, she still did not believe him. “There is nothing to be done. I keep my holdings in excellent order. As I said, my cousin does not own the property and never has. It was not part of his inheritance.”

Lord Stanwood’s frown deepened. “Isn’t there a way to stop this from happening?”

“The only way would be for me to wed, and I have no prospects here. I will probably take him to court. Goodbye, my lord.” She opened the door, and the maid appeared.

“This way, my lord.”

He followed the servant to the door, then turned to Oriana. “Farewell.”

His blue eyes seemed to draw her to him. He needed to leave. Now. “Have a good trip to wherever you are going.”

Fortunately, he, again, did not argue. After bowing, he strolled out the door and the door closed. Severing any connection.

“My dear,” Aunt Prue was just coming down the stairs. Her light blue eyes filled with confusion. “Has your visitor left so soon?”

“He was another one who ‘won the house’ from my cousin.”

“Oh dear. Damry said he was quite handsome and an earl. I had thought . . .”

Oriana really wished everyone would stop mentioning how good-looking the earl was. “No. I do not expect to see him again.” She took her aunt’s arm. “I am sorry. I know you wish to see me settled, but I have given up hope of it occurring.”

“Did he cause a fuss like the last one?”

She really did not wish to have this discussion, but her aunt would insist, and she might as well get it over with. “Not at all. In fact, he claimed he was going to deed the house and property to me and see if it needed any repairs or improvements.”

Aunt Prue made a show of casually glancing around the landing. “How horrible. Handsome, a peer, kind, and responsible. He must be a dreadful person.”

Oriana pressed her lips together and breathed deeply through her nose. “He got here by gambling a large amount of money. I will not be drawn in by a gambler no matter his rank, how handsome he is, or how kind and responsible he seems. Now, if you will excuse me. I have accounts to see to.”

“If you say so, dear.” Her aunt pressed her index finger to her lips. “What did you say his name was?”

“I did not mention his name.” Her aunt gave Oriana a look, and she sighed. “Stanwood. Earl of. Now I must go. The accounts will not do themselves.” Before Aunt Prue could speak again, Oriana scurried off to her study and firmly shut the door.

“Stanwood,” her aunt said loudly enough for Oriana to hear her. “I knew a family by the name of Stanwood. They lived not far from here. I wonder if he could be related.”

She leaned against the door, trying to keep her temper in check. At this rate, she would be dodging her aunt’s matchmaking attempts until the irritating man left the area. She hoped it would be soon. It must be soon. After all, there was no real gambling around here, making it rather flat for gentlemen. Oriana went to her desk and sat in the blue leather chair that had been especially designed for a lady. She picked up the first of several receipts to be entered.

Farr’s Butcher Shop, Stanwood town.

Good Lord! Was he that Lord Stanwood? No. He could not be. That Lord Stanwood was gone. Traveling the Continent. She had heard that someone called Lord Worthington was taking care of the estate until Lord Stanwood’s return.

Unless he has returned.

Well, it did not matter. She would simply have to avoid the man. Oriana entered the receipt. Avoiding him should not be difficult. He appeared to be unmarried, which meant he would not be able to hold entertainments. She would simply refuse any invitations to dinner or dances she received from others i. . .