An Enchanting Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance

Book 5: Captivating Kisses

by Alexa Aston

Genres: Historical Romance; Regency Romance; Regency romance; England; Regency Historical Romance; Alexa Aston; Captivating Kisses

Synopsis

An army officer who becomes a viscount. A lady eager to make her come-out. Two souls who come together as friends . . . and then find love . . .

Rupert Cummings receives a terse message from his estranged brother, ordering him to sell his army officer's commission and return to England. Upon his arrival, he finds Perceval close to death. Rupert soon inherits the viscountcy and discovers he has a niece, a by-blow from one of his brother's many affairs. Celia wriggles her way into his heart, and Rupert knows any wife he takes will have to understand his love for the girl and her place in the family.

Lady Cornelia Worthington's father dies on the eve of the Season, forcing Lia and her twin Tia to delay their come-outs as they go into mourning. To break up the monotony, they are invited to visit her Aunt Agnes in the Lake District for a few months. Lia is excited to travel to a new place and eager to spend time in her three cousins' company.

Once Lia meets Rupert—and Celia—she is drawn to both of them. But Lia's older siblings have made love matches, and she is determined to do the same. Though she knows Viscount Cressley is attracted to her, she refuses to wed without a declaration of love from him.

Will Rupert realize the attraction he feels for Lia goes beyond the physical and admit he loves her, or will he lose the woman who holds his heart?

Find the answer in bestselling author Alexa Aston's An Enchanting Kiss, the fifth book in Captivating Kisses.

Tropes:

✅ Friends to Lovers

✅ Inherited Title (Army officer turned Viscount)

✅ Guardian/Niece Dynamic

✅ Reluctant Nobleman

✅ Love at First Meeting (slow burn development)

✅ Season Debut / Coming Out to Society

✅ Family-Centered Heroine

✅ Twin Sisters

✅ Country House Visit / Away-from-London Romance

✅ Hero Falls First (but doesn't realize it)


Each book in Captivating Kisses is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order. You can also read in Kindle Unlimited!

Captivating Kisses
Book #1: An Unexpected Kiss
Book #2: An Impulsive Kiss
Book #3: An Innocent Kiss
Book #4: An Unforeseen Kiss
Book #5: An Enchanting Kiss
Book #6: An Urgent Kiss
Book #7: An Unforgettable Kiss
Book #8: A Promising Kiss
Book #9: A Possessive Kiss
Book #10: An Irresistible Kiss

Read more

Release date: October 2, 2025

Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

Print pages: 247

Sample

CHAPTER 1

September 1807

 

“Major! Major!”

Rupert Cummings slowed his stride and turned, seeing a soldier chase after him. It surprised him that the lad had recognized him since he wore civilian clothing similar to what a French peasant would wear, and a beard now covered his usually clean-shaven face. His latest spy mission had lasted almost four months, and he was eager to rid himself of the itchy beard, as well as have his hair trimmed to a respectable length.

“What is it?” he asked.

“For you.” The soldier handed a letter to him. “Good day to you, Major.”

He looked at the letter, his name scrawled across it, having no idea who might have written to him. In his eight years serving in His Majesty’s army, this was the first piece of correspondence Rupert had ever received.

Flipping it over, he broke the seal, only to find a single line in the message.

 

Sell your commission. Return home at once.

                                                            Cressley

 

His blood began to boil. Why on earth would his brother demand that he resign from the army and return home? To what? Second sons were destined for the army for life. Nothing awaited Rupert. He had no intention of obeying a command from a man he was, for all intents and purposes, estranged from.

They had never been close, even before he had taken up his commission. Perceval was fifteen years his senior. The only thing they had in common was a father who had been cold to them both, and a mother whom Rupert had never known. She had died giving birth to him. He was raised by servants and could count on one hand the times he had even spoken to his brother. Their father had died during Rupert’s first year at university. No one had thought to inform him, and he only learned of the death when he came home at the end of the first term. He remained year-round at Oxford after that, not wishing to be alone in an empty house at Crestbrook. Perceval preferred town to country and was never in residence at his country estate in Cumberland. He also had never invited Rupert to visit him in London.

His anger simmered as he jammed the note into his pocket and headed to his commanding officer’s tent. The sentry took a moment to study him, and Rupert quickly gave his name and rank. Only after hearing his voice did the sentry seem to relax, allowing him to pass. Grime still clung to him, thanks to weeks without a decent bath, but he knew Bond would want a full report immediately. His commanding officer had become not only a mentor, but also the kind of older brother Rupert had always hoped to have, and he did everything he could to please the man. That had meant going on one dangerous assignment after another, but the information he brought back was vital to Britain’s war effort.

He stepped inside the tent, where another sentry stood, and he nodded to the soldier. Bond was deep in thought, focused on what he wrote, and Rupert held back until the officer set down his quill. Only then did he step forward.

“Lieutenant-General Bond.” He saluted the officer, and Bond returned the salute. The older man looked to the sentry and nodded curtly, causing him to step out of the tent.

“You look a bit haggard, Major Cummings,” Bond observed.

“I am sorry I did not pretty myself up for you, but I do have news.”

For the next half-hour, Rupert gave his report, Bond taking copious notes as Rupert did so. This would be the written record of his most recent espionage activities. For his safety, he never committed anything to paper, relying on his keen memory. The decision to do so had saved his hide on more than one occasion, along with his excellent command of French and exceptional forged papers.

Bond asked him several clarifying questions, and then he sat back, looking satisfied.

“It is as I feared, Major,” his superior confided. “Britain held Bonaparte off at Trafalgar two years ago, and that lulled us into a false sense of security, thinking our superior navy would protect us from invasion. Bonaparte is far from finished with us—or the rest of Europe. The information you gleaned in your recent mission tells me as much.”

The lieutenant-general shook his head sadly. “I fear from other reports we have received, ones which have been shared at the highest of levels, that we are in for many more years at war.”

Rupert believed the same, which led him to remember Perceval’s note. He withdrew it and said, “Might I ask some advice of you, Lieutenant-General?”

He handed over the folded page, watching as Bond opened it and read the sparse message within. Then their gazes met.

“I assume Cressley is the brother whom you have mentioned to me.”

“It is. We have had no communication in all my years serving in the military. I saw Cressley the day he authorized my commission to be purchased through the family solicitor. There has been no contact since them. Until this.” Frustrated, he asked, “Why should I act upon some order from someone who is practically a stranger to me?”

“It is terse,” Bond agreed. “Ironically, to me, that speaks volumes.” He paused, collecting his thoughts for a moment. “If your brother wishes for you to sell out, there is good reason for you to do so. My gut tells me Cressley is dying—and needs you at home.”

Rupert’s thoughts had only been concerned with himself and how he resented the notion of being told to sell out. He had taken Cressley’s note literally, not reading anything into it. He had learned, however, that Bond’s gut feelings proved accurate a majority of the time.

“How old are your brother’s children now?” Bond asked.

He shrugged. “How should I know? When I joined the army, I had no idea if Cressley had ever wed, much less had children. That is how little I knew about him even then.”

“In my opinion, a man does not write this kind of note unless he is desperate. I believe your brother is dying, Major Cummings, and it is your duty to go home and become the guardian to his children. Run his country estate. Manage his holdings until his heir is of legal age to do so himself.”

Ire filled him. “Why should I have to give up the life I have built for myself for someone I have only seen a handful of times?”

“Because he is family—and he is asking for you to do so. We cannot choose our family, Major. We can, however, act as men of honor when called upon.”

Bond rose and began pacing about the tent. Rupert had never seen his commanding officer agitated.

“Your report is one of several we have gathered over the last few months. The war is going to accelerate considerably, as early as next year. Englishmen will die by the thousands until this conflict is over. The Little Corporal is a greedy bastard. He is not satisfied with what he has already taken.”

Bond returned to his seat. “I share this with you in confidence. Intelligence we have received has caused a decision to be made. The bulk of the British army will soon travel to Spain.”

“Spain? Why Spain?”

“The Spanish government is headed for disaster. Our reports tell of immense corruption, and King Charles IV’s leadership is questionable, at best. All indications point to Bonaparte’s plans to remove the Spanish king and his son and install his brother Joseph on the throne. Naturally, this will lead to civil unrest. Even war. Britain will not stand for this. The battles will be bloody. Frankly, your brother’s message may be a blessing in disguise.”

“But I want to fight for my king and country,” he insisted.

Bond shook his head sadly. “That is no longer possible. You are an honorable man, Major Cummings. It seems your brother’s character is less than exemplary. If you can guide the family in the right fashion and assist his sons in developing integrity, you will make your mark on the next generation of Englishmen.” He smiled. “Not to mention the fact that you could wed and start a family of your own.”

The idea of marriage and children seemed foreign to him. He had known, going into the army as a second son, that this would be his adult life.

“I can handle the sale of your commission for you if you would like me to do so. Give me the name of your family’s solicitor and his address, and I will see the funds from the sale sent to him. Arrange for transportation for yourself to leave camp as soon as possible.”

Bond rose and came to him. Rupert also stood as the older man offered his hand.

“It has been a pleasure serving with you, Major Cummings. I wish you all the best.” Bond paused. “I would ask that you write to me. Not when you reach home and learn of the situation. Wait a year and then write to me. By then, you will have settled into whatever role has been designated for you. I would like to know where you land and how you are. Will you do this for me?”

His throat swelled with emotion, and he swallowed it down. “I will do so, sir. Thank you. For everything. Your leadership and guidance have been inspiring. I hope I can emulate the lessons you have passed on to me.”

Rupert left the tent, the life he had known and loved abruptly coming to an end. He returned to his quarters to pack and knew he would need to seek transportation to London, all the while wondering what his future might hold.

***

He left the bustling London docks and decided to stretch his legs for a few minutes before hailing a hansom cab. As he walked, it struck him that he did not even know where his brother’s townhouse was located. His father had never brought him to town. The only time he had visited London was when he had come to meet his brother at Mr. Ousley’s offices. The solicitor had handled the purchase of Rupert’s commission. He supposed he would go there now and discover the lay of the land and ask for his brother’s address.

After walking for several blocks and having no clue where he was, he signaled a hansom cab driver and gave him Ousley’s address.

“I’ll get you there in no time, Major,” the man told him.

Rupert sat back, taking in all the sights until they pulled up in front of a building. When he tried to pay the driver, the man waved him off.

“My own boy is in uniform, Major. Left us a year ago. We are terribly proud of him. It’s the least I can do, giving you a ride.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He entered the building and went to the desk where a clerk sat, announcing, “I am Major Rupert Cummings. I wish to speak with Mr. Ousley at his earliest convenience.”

“Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“I do not. I am willing to wait for as long as it takes.”

“One moment, please.”

The clerk vanished and then returned in less than a minute, looking a bit sheepish.

“Mr. Ousley is most eager to meet with you, Major Cummings. If you will follow me.”

He was taken to a large office and recognized the solicitor, now a man in his late forties, with graying hair and wearing a dark gray suit. Ousley rose and greeted him.

“Ah, Major Cummings. What has it been—six—seven years?”

“Eight, actually, Mr. Ousley.”

“May I have my clerk bring you anything? Tea or coffee, perhaps?”

Though he was both hungry and thirsty, Rupert did not wish to delay matters. “None for me, thank you.”

The solicitor nodded brusquely to his clerk, who left them, closing the door behind him.

“Have a seat,” Ousley offered, and he took one in front of the desk as the solicitor sat behind it.

He removed his brother’s note from his pocket and set it on the desk. “Open it.”

The older man did so, shaking his head. “It is just like Lord Cressley. Not revealing a thing to you. Frankly, I am surprised you did as he asked with so little information provided to you.”

“I am walking into this situation blind, Mr. Ousley. In fact, I came to you simply because I haven’t a clue as to where my brother even lives. You have to know that we have never been close. Over the years, we have barely spoken to one another, much less been in one another’s presence for any length of time. I suspect he is gravely ill, and that is why he has asked me to come home. Do you know if he is dying? Am I to be named a guardian to his children?”

“You are right about the dying, Major. Lord Cressley is grievously ill. Reaping what he has sown.”

Rupert thought the solicitor’s words cryptic, but did not interrupt.

“The viscount never wed,” Ousley explained. “I will be brutally honest with you, Major, and tell you that Lord Cressley has one of the worst reputations in all of Polite Society. He has always run with a fast group of friends. Gambling. Drinking. Wenching. This is common knowledge.”

He winced involuntarily. “You are telling me that I am his heir apparent.”

“That is correct,” the solicitor confirmed. “Men such as Cressley eventually wed and produce an heir. In this case, it is too late for him to do so, which is why he has summoned you home.” The solicitor cleared his throat. “Since you are the heir apparent, I am treating you accordingly now. I would like to give you a full accounting of the estate you will shortly inherit, as well as your other holdings.”

For the next hour, Ousley walked Rupert through the financial situation of the viscountcy. Besides Crestbrook, which was a profitable estate, his brother had investments in everything from coal to shipping to silk.

“You mentioned gambling,” he said when the solicitor finally came to a close. “How large are Cressley’s debts?”

“I cannot say for certain, Major. Those who hold his markers will come out of the woodwork upon Cressley’s death. I will say that your brother’s reputation is one of a winner, however. It seems he has won much more over the years than he ever lost. Even after you pay off any debts he may have, you will be in excellent financial shape.”

Everything he had heard during this past hour had changed his life radically. Instead of helping to manage Crestbrook and his brother’s investments, along with seeing to the care and education of his nieces and nephews, Rupert would be the only Cummings left standing once Perceval passed.

“I suppose it is time I go to see Lord Cressley. Might you provide his address to me?”

Ousley did so and encouraged Rupert to let him know when the viscount was gone. Then, he said, “I am here for you, Major Cummings. That is, if you wish to retain my services.”

“I will most certainly do so. You have been a faithful retainer to my family for years. I appreciate how you have looked after our interests, and I look forward to working closely with you in the future.”

He left the solicitor’s offices and hailed another hansom cab, giving the driver an address in Mayfair. As they came closer to his final destination, he could see this area was most likely the most desirable in London. His mind swirled at everything he had been told. One thing Rupert was certain of, however, was that he would not squander his life the way his brother had. He was obliged to wed and provide an heir and keep the family holdings secure for all future Viscount Cressleys.

When they arrived, he paid his driver and then approached the door to the large townhouse. Knocking briskly, he was faced with a footman who answered his knock.

“I am Major Cummings, here to see my brother. Lord Cressley,” he added, watching the footman’s eyes go wide.

“C-Come in, Major,” he said, clearly thrown by Rupert’s sudden appearance.

Rupert stepped inside, looking about the foyer, seeing nothing had changed. He had been a different man when he last set foot here.

The footman closed the door, still looking a bit flustered.  “Please wait in the foyer a moment if you would, Major.”

He gazed about the foyer, seeing two beautiful paintings hanging on the wall. One was a landscape. The other was of a woman, richly dressed. He wondered if she might be his mother.

“All this will be mine,” he said in wonder, still finding it hard to comprehend how quickly things were changing in his life.

The footman appeared with an older man in tow, and he gave them his attention.

“Good day, Major. I am Bowers, Lord Cressley’s butler. His lordship is with his physician now. If you will accompany me to the drawing room, I will let Dr. Thayer know you are here and wish to speak with him.” The butler paused. “Will you be staying with us?”

“I will. Lord Cressley asked that I sell my commission and come to him. I assume with him being ill that he needs my assistance.”

A shadow crossed the butler’s face. “His lordship is gravely ill, Major. I will have a room made up for you. Now, if you would follow me.”

Rupert was taken to a drawing room. He wandered about it for a few minutes, taking in the furnishings, and then turning his gaze out the window, which overlooked the square the house sat upon. Then he sensed a presence and glanced toward the door, seeing a thin, tall man entering. He moved toward him.

“I am Dr. Thayer, Major Cummings. Might we sit?”

“Of course.”

Once they were situated, the physician said, “Lord Cressley is suffering from venereal distemper.”

Immediately, he asked, “Is it the pox? Or the clap?” The two diseases ran rampant in London, which was why many titled gentlemen preferred taking one mistress rather than risking their health with infected partners.

Dr. Thayer frowned. “The pox, I am afraid. The clap would have been much easier to treat. His lordship had the typical signs of discomfort at the beginning. Pain during urination. A slight rash. Foolishly, he did not come to me and instead bought some pills and potions a friend of his recommended. There is a huge market for these so-called remedies.” Thayer snorted. “They do absolutely nothing.”

“By the time I was called in, Lord Cressley had begun suffering from high fevers and debilitating pain. He begged me for something to help ease his pain. After examining him, I realized what he suffered from and could offer him no hope of recovery.” The doctor paused. “That is when he begged me for the mercury treatment.”

Rupert frowned. “I am unfamiliar with this.”

“It simply does not work,” the physician said emphatically. “It is hogwash, and I refused to put Lord Cressley through it. He took it anyway, against my advice.”

“What does it involve?”

“The purpose is to stimulate the patient to salivate to excess, which supposedly rids the body of the impurities of the pox. The treatments can last for well over a month. Lord Cressley made it through three weeks and by the time he returned home, he was suffering from brutal side effects. Loss of a good number of his teeth. Painful mouth ulcers. Extreme fatigue and weight loss.”

“What is his prognosis?” Rupert asked.

“Death,” the physician said bluntly. “At any time now. His hair has fallen out. He suffers from constant fever and muscle aches. He is almost totally blind. His heart has been damaged beyond repair. Frankly, I am surprised Lord Cressley has managed to last as long as he has.”

Shock filled him, but he reined in his feelings. “Might I see him?” It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he felt he owed it to Perceval.

“Of course. I will go with you. The moment I heard you had returned home, I knew I must speak candidly with you so that you were to understand the severity of the situation.”

They left the drawing room and went down the corridor to its end, entering without knocking. The drapes were pulled, and the room was quite dark, save for a lone candle burning. A servant sat by the bed, and he rose as they entered.

“Damsley, this is Major Cummings, Lord Cressley’s brother,” Dr. Thayer said. He turned to Rupert. “Damsley is the viscount’s valet and most faithful attendant.”

“I do my best to keep Lord Cressley comfortable,” Damsley said.

“Thank you for all you have done for my brother,” he told the valet.

“Leave,” a weak voice said from the bed.

Rupert had avoided looking there and forced himself to do so now. His eyes took in the frail frame of his once vibrant brother. Perceval was ghostly white, his eyes sunk far into his skull. He looked as someone who might have been starved for weeks. As he gave Rupert a tentative smile, Rupert could see the gaps where teeth had once been.

Leaning toward the bed, he asked, “Do you want all of us to leave, Cressley?”

“You. Stay.”

He straightened. “If you would please leave us.” When Damsley looked upset, he added, “Just for a few minutes. I will spend a brief time with my brother and then leave to allow him to get some rest.”

The physician and valet exited the room, and Rupert took the chair Damsley had vacated, scooting it closer to the bed. He took one of his brother’s hands, which looked as if it belonged to a man of eighty.

“I would ask how you are, but I can tell you are in no shape to speak much,” he began. “I have done what you asked, Cressley. My commission is being sold. I have returned to take care of you and Crestbrook.”

Perceval wheezed and then made a gurgling sound. Rupert felt so helpless. He watched in horror as his brother finally gained control once more.

“They say . . . a night with Venus . . . a lifetime . . . with mercury.”

“Why did you not take a mistress, Perceval?” he asked. “At least when you are with but a single woman, you have a better chance of not contracting disease.”

One corner of his brother’s mouth turned up in an attempt to smile. “And leave all . . . those women untouched?” Perceval coughed, the strain of such a simple act looking like agony on his face. “I was foolish, Rupert. So . . . so foolish. And those whom I called friends? They . . . abandoned me long ago.”

They sat in silence a few minutes. He doubted Perceval had the strength to continue their conversation.

Then his brother rallied. “You are . . . my heir. No wife or sons from me. Dr. Thayer . . . says not long now.” His eyes cut to a table on the bedside. “Some of . . . the laudanum. Now.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Drops. On . . . my tongue. Helps.”

Picking up the bottle, he squeezed the dropper, bringing the laudanum into it. Rupert brought it to his brother’s mouth. Perceval opened his lips, and he placed a drop on his brother’s tongue.

“More.”

He added two additional drops before returning the dropper to the bottle. Then he waited.

Finally, Perceval said, “Be better than I was. Be . . . strong. Kind. Not like . . . me.”

He took the bony hand. “I will. I promise.” He remained standing, watching over his brother, feeling absolutely helpless because he could do nothing. Then the wheezing began again.

“I will fetch Dr. Thayer.”

Rupert rushed to the door and opened it, finding both Thayer and Damsley outside the door.

“Lord Cressley’s breathing is labored. Come quickly.”

Both men rushed past him, and Rupert followed. The doctor lifted Perceval’s wrist, pressing a finger to it.

“His pulse is weak. Barely fluttering. Administer a drop of the laudanum, Damsley.”

“I have already done so,” he informed them, worried that he had given Perceval three drops, while the doctor called for only one. “He asked for me to do so.”

All three men stood, their gazes on the shriveled form in the bed, what was left of the man Perceval Cummings had once been. Then the labored breathing ceased. Again, the doctor took his patient’s wrist. He frowned. Placed two fingers on Perceval’s throat. Then he nodded slowly.

“He is gone,” Dr. Thayer told them.

Guilt flooded Rupert.

Had he administered the dose which had killed his own brother?

The doctor looked to Damsley. “Go and tell Bowers. He knows what to do.”

Once the valet left, Rupert had to ask, “How much laudanum had you been giving him?”

The physician shrugged. “It varied. Usually, a couple of drops.”

“Would three . . . have been too much?” he asked anxiously.

Dr. Thayer shook his head. “No, my lord. Not at this point.”

He started to correct the man and then it struck him.

He was now Viscount Cressley.

“Thank you for all you did for my brother. While I did not truly know him, I am in anguish, seeing how much he suffered in the end.”

“Lord Cressley told me a week ago that he had no regrets. That he lived his life as he saw fit.” Dr. Thayer paused. “The viscountcy is now yours to do with as you choose, my lord.”

Rupert vowed he would be the best man he could be and restore the reputation of his family’s name.

The doctor left, and he stayed with Perceval until Bowers and Damsley appeared. A woman accompanied them, and he suspected she was the housekeeper.

“We will care for his lordship now, my lord,” the valet assured him.

“Mrs. Bowers has prepared a temporary room for you, my lord,” the butler added, indicating the woman. “Of course, as soon as possible, these rooms will be cleaned and aired for your benefit.”

He couldn’t imagine lying in the same bed where his dead brother now lay.

“There is no rush. I will be happy wherever Mrs. Bowers has placed me. Has the vicar been sent for?”

“Yes. He will wish to discuss the funeral with you,” Bowers said.

He hadn’t a clue what Perceval would have preferred and decided he would let the vicar take the lead. The same went for who should be notified of the death. Rupert had no idea who his brother’s friends were, although from what he had gathered, there were no true friends at all.

“I suppose I will take Lord Cressley back to be buried at Kidsgrove,” he said.

“His lordship made arrangements to be buried here in town,” the butler shared.

“I see. I will stay until the service is held, and then I will go to Crestbrook. I am certain there are things to be seen to there.”

“Good,” Mrs. Bowers said, looking relieved. “Because you will need to see to Miss Celia.”

“Who?” he asked, having never heard the name, wondering if this was some elderly aunt or cousin he had never met, who his brother had taken in.

Mrs. Bowers looked at him almost apologetically. “Miss Celia is Lord Cressley’s bastard daughter.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

Millvale, Kent

 

Lia Worthington sat at breakfast with her brother and new sister-in-law. She would miss Val and Eden terribly, but she was looking forward to visiting the Lake District with Mama and Tia.

Her come-out—and her twin, Tia’s—had not gone as planned. Their father had collapsed on the verge of the Season, dying hours later, and it had plunged their family into mourning. Tia had been vocally resentful, and Lia could not blame her sister. Their father had never valued his three daughters, only paying attention to his heir apparent. Even Val had not garnered much attention from their frequently absent father. She knew Val would make for an excellent Duke of Millbrooke, especially now that he had wed Eden. The former governess would keep her charming brother in line.

They were a love match, just as her older sister Ariadne had made with the Marquess of Aldridge. The couple now had a six-month-old daughter, Penelope, and Val had shared with them how Julian melted at the sight of his wife and daughter.

A love match was something Lia hoped for, but she knew these were rare within the ton. Her practical nature would be quite happy with a kind husband who gave her an abundance of children. She hoped she would grow to love him over time, but that would not be something she needed or expected. She had been brought up to run a household and bear children, and she eagerly looked forward to both once she and her twin made their come-outs next spring.

They were in for a bit of adventure, though, since they departed today for Cumberland. Aunt Agnes, a favorite amongst all the cousins, had been her mother’s closest friend for decades, since they had made their own come-outs together. When Papa had died suddenly, Aunt Agnes had accompanied them back to Millvale. Knowing she would need to stay a while, she had sent for her daughters. Having Verina and Justina here the past few months had made mourning bearable.

Now, however, Mama had decided the three of them would accompany Aunt Agnes back to Traywick Manor, where they would stay for a few months. Lia thought it was because Val and Eden were newlyweds, and Mama was trying to give them time together. She had overheard Mama talking to Aunt Agnes, saying that it was important that the servants start looking to Eden as the Duchess of Millbrooke and transfer their loyalties to her, instead of keeping them with Mama, who was now the dowager duchess.

No matter the reason, it would be exciting to travel to the northwestern part of England. Lia had read some of Mr. Wordsworth’s poetry, and he had lived nearby to where Traywick Manor stood. She had always been fond of poetry and couldn’t wait to see in person the places which had inspired the poet. It would be nice to pass some time in Cumberland as they awaited their come-outs.

“Try a little of the scrambled eggs,” Val urged his wife, who shook her head.

“You know I do not like to eat before ten o’clock. Let me sip my tea in peace.”

Eden was in the early stages of increasing. So far, she had trouble keeping food down in the mornings, and she retched several times a day.

“I worry about you,” her brother said, taking his wife’s hand and kissing her fingers tenderly.

“Ariadne—and even your mother—told me that this will not last forever. That I will soon regain my appetite. Before you know it, I will be eating you out of house and home,” Eden teased. She looked to Lia. “Tell him.”

She smiled. “I can tell him all day, but my brother can be stubborn. He will have to see for himself.”

“I will miss your practicality, Lia,” her sister-in-law said. “But I know you will have a wonderful time in Cumberland. It is so scenic. There is such majesty to behold.”

Eden had served as governess to Verina and Justina and had lived at Traywick Manor for five years before coming to Kent and falling in love with the duke.

“Do not tell me you miss it,” Val said.

Eden smiled tenderly at her husband. “How can I miss anything when I only have eyes for you, my darling?”

She decided to slip away, her breakfast finished and leave the two in private. Going up to the bedchamber she shared with Tia, she saw two maids bustling about, adding the last of things to her sister’s trunk. Lia’s trunk had already been packed for two days, which grated on Tia to no end.

“Did you eat?” she asked her twin.

“Bessie brought me some tea and toast points,” Tia said absently, looking about the bedchamber. “I hope I have not forgotten anything.”

“If you have, you may borrow whatever you need from me or our cousins. Or we can stop and purchase it along the way.”

Tia stepped closer to Lia. Throwing her arms around her, she said, “You are right. I need to relax and stop worrying.”

“I am going to see if our cousins are ready,” she said, heading across the hallway and entering the bedchamber since the door was already open.

Everything was neat as a pin, not a trunk in sight. Verina stood gazing out the window, and Lia came to her, slipping her arm about her cousin’s waist.

“Did you enjoy your stay at Millvale?” she asked.

“It was wonderful. It was so good to see you, Tia, and Val after so many years.”

The ten cousins had been brought together in town about a decade ago. While the Worthingtons lived in Kent, the Alingtons resided in Somerset, and the Fultons in Cumberland. Because of the great distance between the three families, that had been the only time everyone in the three related families had been together. Having Aunt Agnes bring Verina and Justina to Millvale had been a terrific treat.

“Well, I cannot wait to see Traywick Manor. And reintroduce myself to Tray.”

Her cousin had become the Earl of Traywick at the tender age of ten when his father and brother had been killed in a carriage accident. Hadrian, as he had been called from birth, changed his name to reflect his title. Justina told Lia that Tray had hated his given name. The ten cousins had all been named for various Roman and Byzantine emperors and empresses. While some of them, such as Verina and Justina, kept their original names, several of the cousins had opted for a more diminutive form. She was Cornelia and Tia was Thermantia, but Val had trouble saying their names, being so young. He was the one who had given them their nicknames, and they had stuck.

“Since I see no baggage, I assume everything has been taken downstairs by our footmen.”

“Yes,” Verina said. “Justina went to supervise them. Not that they needed it, but she likes to assert herself.”

“Come, let us go downstairs. The time to depart grows near.”

They walked, arm-in-arm, down to the foyer. Justina was already there, and Val and Eden joined them. Tia came bounding down the stairs.

“I haven’t missed anything, have I?” her twin asked anxiously.

“We have gossiped about you incessantly,” Eden teased.

Laughing, Tia said, “Then I suppose it will help prepare me for next year’s Season. Mama has warned us that there are vipers within Polite Society who like nothing better than to tear others down, especially attractive young ladies making their come-outs. Lia and I will not let them bother us. Our behavior will be impeccable.”

Justina laughed. “I think you will have trouble behaving yourself, Tia. And I should know. We are too much alike.”

Her cousin was right. Where Lia and Verina were more soft-spoken and unassuming, Tia and Justina were curious and outgoing. She was glad that she and her twin had such different temperaments. Although they favored one another in the face, she was a few inches shorter than her sister. Tia also had strawberry blond hair, while Lia’s was auburn. Despite being so different from one another, she loved her twin more than anyone in the world.

Finally, Mama and Aunt Agnes made their appearances. Mama, ever dignified, glided down the stairs without effort. Aunt Agnes, who was still girlish at her age, smiled widely at everyone.

“Are we ready to head for Cumberland?” Aunt Agnes asked.

“Yes!” cried all four girls.

Then Eden began weeping. She gathered Justina and Verina to her. “I know these tears are because I am increasing. Everything seems to make me cry these days, but I will miss the two of you so much.”

“We will miss you, too, Miss Snow,” Verina said. “I mean, Your Grace.”

Eden wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It was not that long ago that I was your Miss Snow.”

Val slipped an arm about his wife’s waist. “She is now my Miss Snow. An utter tyrant who orders me about all day long.” He kissed Eden softly. “And I would not have it any other way.”

Eden embraced Aunt Agnes. “I would say I am sorry for abandoning my post, but Val was simply too hard to resist.”

“I am happy for you, my dear. You were an excellent governess, but you will be an even better duchess and mother.”

The dowager duchess hugged her daughter-in-law. “Take good care of Millbrooke, Eden. He is not far removed from being one of London’s rakes.”

Eden smiled. “They do say reformed rakes make for the best husbands.”

Val beamed. “Then I will be the best husband in all of England,” he declared.

The duke and duchess walked them outside. While Val had pressed his mother to take the ducal carriage, she refused, saying it should be for his and his duchess’ use. They were taking the family’s second carriage, which was almost as grand and nearly as large. It was a good thing because there would be six of them inside it. Another carriage would follow with the rest of their trunks and a couple of maids.

A footman opened the coach’s door, and Val handed up each of them. Lia went last.

“Take care of everyone,” her brother urged. “You are the one I trust the most because you have the best head on your shoulders. Enjoy the Lake District and your time away from Millvale.”

“We will be home long before Christmas,” she assured him. “Mama said we will leave in mid-November. I know the roads might not be the best then, but we can take our time.” She looked to Eden. “And I plan to start a journal of my own on this trip. I will record my impressions and everything I see.”

As a governess, Eden had her charges write in a journal. Lia had read some of the entries in both Verina’s and Justina’s and thought it an excellent idea. She would be seeing so many new things and gathering new experiences, both on the journey to and from Cumberland and at Traywick Manor itself. It would be a good way to reflect upon them and have a record of her thoughts and impressions in lasting form.

She settled herself inside the carriage as Val closed the door. He signaled the coachman, and the vehicle began rolling.

Eden ran alongside the coach briefly, shouting, “Write to us! Have fun!”

Then the carriage picked up speed, and she stopped, waving madly at them, Val by her side.

“It is good to know we are leaving Millbrooke in such good hands,” Aunt Agnes said. “Eden is perfect for him.”

She looked at Mama, whose eyes were misted with tears. “I will miss the both of them. Millbrooke is already becoming a better duke than his father ever was. With Eden by his side, he will be a great one.” She smiled. “And I cannot wait to be a grandmother again when they have children.”

Mama’s words surprised Lia. She, like Papa, had not spent much time with her daughters. Polite Society’s view was that first sons were to be exalted and other sons and all daughters, for the most part, ignored. Yet Mama had grown closer to Ariadne during her come-out Season. Perhaps the same would be true when she and Tia made their come-outs. Her mother was usually so stern. If having grandchildren softened her a bit, Lia thought that would be a good thing.

It took almost ten days to reach Traywick Manor. By the time they arrived, Lia was tired of riding in the bumpy carriage, but she had thoroughly enjoyed the scenery during their entire journey. It was fascinating seeing the beauty of different parts of England, and she looked forward to the time they would spend in the Lake District over the next two months, as well as seeing her cousin Tray again.

As she disembarked from the carriage and the housekeeper showed her and Tia to their shared bedchamber, Lia was excited for whatever experiences lay ahead.