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An Unexpected Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance
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Synopsis
Three families—the Worthingtons, Alingtons, and Fultons. Ten cousins named for Roman and Byzantine rulers and their spouses. And ten occasions when a kiss which will change everything for the couple involved.
Welcome to the new Regency world created by best-selling author Alexa Aston in Captivating Kisses!
A common laborer who becomes a marquess. A caring debutante who wants to be more than a pretty face in a pretty gown. An unexpected kiss, which changes the course of their lives . . .
London dockworker Julian Watts was born out of wedlock. Raised by his seamstress mother, he has only known gnawing poverty. Through a remarkable discovery, he morphs into Julian Barrington, Marquess of Aldridge. Thrust into a world he never imagined, Julian grapples with his newfound status and the weight of the responsibilities that come with it.
Lady Ariadne Worthington is on the verge of making her come-out when she meets her family’s new neighbor, a titled gentleman that she is inexplicably drawn to. Lord Aldridge becomes friendly with her brother and cousin, and the more time she spends in the marquess’ company, the more their attraction grows.
An unexpected kiss from Julian leads Ariadne to believe he will pursue her, but once the Season begins, he dashes her hopes, ignoring her and dancing with nothing but wallflowers. As a diamond of the first water, Ariadne has her pick of suitors, yet the come-out Season she had long looked forward to now holds no appeal because of her broken heart.
Will Julian find the courage to conquer his self-doubts and court the love he so desperately desires, or will he allow his feelings of inadequacy to prevent him—and Ariadne—from finding lasting love?
Each book in Captivating Kisses is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order.
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
Release date: February 4, 2025
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Print pages: 247
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Behind the book
This is the beginning of my Captivating Kisses series. Julian and Ariadne will serve as an anchor couple and appear in the other 9 romances in this series.
Captivating Kisses features three families. All ten cousins will find their soulmates.
Author updates
An Unexpected Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance
Alexa Aston
PROLOGUE
London—July 1805
Julian Watts pressed a cold compress to his mother’s brow. He felt the heat of her fever through the cloth, singeing his fingers. She had been ill for close to two months now, the cough worsening, and the weight falling off her. Weight she didn’t have to spare.
“I will stay home with you,” he said gently.
“No,” she protested weakly. “Mr. Piper is expecting you. You don’t want to ruin your chances of working for him full-time. He is your way out of poverty, Julian.”
He hoped she was right.
At seven and a score, he had worked on the London docks and in one of its warehouse for over a dozen years now, moving heavy cargo, and had the muscles and calluses to show for it. A year ago, however, his mother had sewn a few gowns for a Mrs. Piper, whose husband was a solicitor. Somehow, Mother had convinced Mr. Piper that Julian was the clerk he was looking for, though Mr. Piper already had two clerks working for him. Still, the solicitor had met with Julian and had been impressed, hiring him on as a night clerk.
Nowadays, after putting in a full day laboring with his muscles, Julian reported to Mr. Piper’s offices. Most of the work he did in his second job was reproducing legal documents, such as marriage settlements, in order for all parties involved to have their own copy of the agreements. Mr. Piper thought Julian’s handwriting impeccable, and he’d begun staying late, teaching Julian various things about his business. One of Mr. Piper’s clerks was close to retiring, and the solicitor had told Julian if he were interested, he could assume that position.
Eager to do anything to better himself and help his mother, he had agreed to wait for the slot to open. In the meantime, he worked his usual backbreaking job, grabbing a meal of meat pies from a street vendor before heading to Mr. Piper’s offices. He would get home shortly before midnight and fall into bed, only to repeat the long day after a few hours of sleep.
He didn’t often see his mother due to his long hours, but she left him sweet notes and set out food for him. Despite their infrequent encounters, he saw how rapidly she was declining. Fear of losing her filled him. Instead of reporting to Mr. Piper’s office tonight, he had come home to check on her and found her in terrible shape.
“I could leave you for a while and tell Mr. Piper you are unwell,” he told her. “Then come home and sit with you.”
Her gaze met his. “No,” she said firmly. “I am done, my boy. You must look to your future without me.”
Taking her hand in both of his, he brought it to his heart. “I cannot lose you.”
She shook her head. “I am so tired,” she admitted. “I have felt death coming for me. I am ready for it. You must promise me, Julian, that you will continue with Mr. Piper. Do all you can to move up in the world.”
Suddenly, a choking sound came from her. Alarm filled him. He squeezed her hand tightly, not wanting to ever let go. She was all he knew. The only friend he had. It had always been the two of them against the world.
“I am sorry I could not do more for you,” she apologized, trying to catch her breath.
“Never say that,” he said fiercely. “You sacrificed everything for me.”
A sad smile crossed her face. “You were always my world, Julian. I love you so very much.”
Her eyes closed. He sat on the bed next to her, hearing her labored breathing, knowing no doctor could help her. Not that they could afford one. The poor did without many things, and that included medical assistance.
He listened as her breathing slowed, his heart aching, and then it ceased. For a moment, all seemed well. She looked at peace. It was almost as if the corners of her mouth turned up in a slight smile. While she was still warm, he kissed her brow, then he took her hands and placed them atop one another on her chest.
“I love you,” he said, grief sweeping through him, mingled with frustration, knowing he had not been able to save her. “I will do my all to be the best person I can be. For you.”
Rising, he felt hot tears spill down his cheeks. Already, an emptiness filled him, knowing how alone he now was. He would go directly to Mr. Piper and explain what had happened. He knew the solicitor would allow him to miss work for a few days in order to handle the burial arrangements and mourn his mother’s passing.
Before he left, though, he went to the chest his mother called a bottom drawer. In it, she kept a few treasured mementos from her girlhood, along with her sewing patterns and lists of clients, including their measurements. Inside it was a small, lidded box that contained their combined earnings. He hadn’t a clue how much it would cost to bury her and worried what he would do if the box did not contain enough coin to do so.
She was the one who always put aside their meager earnings. Julian almost felt as if he invaded her personal property as he opened the chest. He found the box and removed it but noticed a small bundle of parchment tied together with a ribbon. Curious, he pulled it out as well, wondering whom his mother might have corresponded with. From the little he knew, her family had disowned her when she became with child, tossing her out on the street. Julian had never asked who his father might be, and she had never revealed the name to him. He had supposed either the man was already married or that when she told him of the coming child, he had abandoned her.
Opening the box first, he counted what was within, knowing how careful she had been with their savings. His gut told him it wasn’t enough. Anger simmered through him, knowing how hard the both of them worked and how little they received for their efforts. Julian refused to put her in a pauper’s grave. Perhaps Mr. Piper might give him an advancement on his salary so that he might bury his mother in a proper fashion.
Setting aside the box, he picked up the bundle and untied the ribbon. Though it seemed wrong to read what was there, he hoped it might give him insight into her past—and where he came from.
As he read the first letter, his belly twisted.
Miss Watts –
I cannot have you come here again to my parents’ house, even to pass along a letter. You could cost me everything. I regret to hear there is to be a child. It is most unfortunate.
I will meet you in the usual place tomorrow afternoon at three o’clock to discuss this matter.
The brief note was unsigned, but Julian knew his father had written it.
Who had he been? What had he been like? From the wording, he gathered his father had been of a different, better class than his mother, who had been a tailor’s daughter.
Hesitating a moment, he set aside the note and opened the second one, wondering what it might reveal. This time, it bore no declaration or signature, but he assumed it was for his mother since she had kept it. He recognized the same hand that had written this note.
You have what you want. The marriage will allow you not to bear a bastard, but you know I can never claim him, much less you. Speak of it to no one. I advise you to call yourself Mrs. Watts and style yourself a widow.
I have paid three months’ rent on the place I took you to after the ceremony. It is all I can give you. I leave now for my Grand Tour and expect to be gone the requisite three to four years. When I return, I will live my life—and expect never to see nor hear from you again.
The coldness in the tone struck Julian more than anything. Obviously, his mother had somehow met a young man from the aristocracy, and they had engaged in a brief affair. He was the result of their liaison. How heartless, though, for his father to have brushed aside his mother, leaving her alone, soon to bear a child, without family or even a single friend to aid her.
The last piece of parchment was larger. He unfolded it and saw it was, indeed, a marriage certificate. His mother’s name was displayed, as well as that of Henry Barrington. The name meant nothing to him, but it gave him slight satisfaction to know he was not the bastard he had always thought he was. Still, he wanted nothing to do with the stranger who had gotten his mother with child and then blithely went off to sow his wild oats in Europe.
Julian left their rented room and hurried to Mr. Piper’s offices. Using his key, he let himself in since he arrived long after the other two clerks had ended their day. He did spy a light coming from his employer’s office, though, and made his way there, hesitating a moment at the open door.
Looking up, Mr. Piper said, “Ah, Julian. Do come in. I have some—”
“My mother is dead,” he said flatly.
The solicitor’s concern for him was immediately obvious. Mr. Piper rose. “My dear boy. I am so sorry to hear of your loss.” He patted Julian on the back. “How can I help?”
“I don’t know if I have enough to cover the costs of her burial,” he admitted. “Is it possible to receive an advance on my salary? I won’t place her in a pauper’s grave.”
“No, you cannot do so. I agree. Tell me what you have done so far.”
He raked his hands through his hair. “Nothing. I arrived home, going there instead of straight here, because she had been so poorly yesterday. She was quite ill, Mr. Piper, but ready to meet her Maker. I have no idea what to do next.”
“I can help with things, Julian,” Mr. Piper said in a soothing tone.
“She was married,” he blurted out, surprising himself. “I mean, she pretended to be a widow. Mrs. Watts. But there never was a Mr. Watts.”
Frustration filled him, and the story spilled from him. The discovery of the two letters. The marriage certificate.
“I hate him,” he said. “My father. He was in a position to help her. Instead, he ignored her.”
Mr. Piper looked thoughtful. “But you say he wed her? There is proof of that?”
“Yes. Much good it’ll do her now. She struggled her entire life. Cut off from her family for the transgression of bearing a child out of wedlock. Worked her fingers to the bone, especially when she sent me to school. She insisted I go. That I must learn to read and write and grasp maths.”
“She was right to do so, Julian. I know you have done physical labor your entire life, but you have a fine mind, especially for numbers. I am happy your mother and my wife came into contact, else I would never have met you. I was going to tell you I am ready to hire you on permanently, beginning next week, but I am curious now as to your parentage.”
He glared at the solicitor. “I want nothing to do with my birth father,” he said angrily.
“Calm yourself,” instructed Mr. Piper. “Let me come home with you now. I will assist you in handling matters.”
Regret filled him, seeing how kind his employer was being. “I apologize for my outburst, sir. I was taught better manners than that.”
The solicitor placed a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “You have just lost your beloved mother. No apologies are necessary.”
They returned to the tiny flat. Mr. Piper had assured Julian during the hansom cab ride over that the burial costs would be handled. When the solicitor looked over the marriage license and notes, he nodded to himself.
“We should summon the undertaker now. Do you have a gown you’d like for your mother to be buried in?”
Mr. Piper left Julian, saying he would see that the undertaker arrived shortly, and took the correspondence and license with him, instructing Julian to go to the docks first thing in the morning to quit his job.
“With no notice?” he asked.
“Tell them your mother has passed,” the solicitor advised. “Ask for any wages due you. If those in authority are reluctant to give those to you, use my name. When you have done so, come to my offices afterward.”
An hour later, the undertaker arrived, taking with him the gown Julian had set aside for the burial. He mentioned to Julian that Mr. Piper would help to arrange services for Mrs. Watts on the morrow.
Julian fell into a restless sleep, awakening at his usual hour of four. The room was silent except for the squeaking of a small mouse, which he chased away. It was the first day of his life without his mother in it, and sadness permeated him.
He did as his employer had requested, however, explaining his mother had passed the previous evening and asking for the wages due him. When the dock foreman tried to put him off, Julian tossed in Mr. Piper’s name. Apparently, the solicitor was known to the man. Miraculously, he was told to report to the warehouse offices, where he received what he was owed.
That took a few hours, however, and by the time he reported to Mr. Piper’s offices, it was half-past nine. The solicitor was out on business, and Julian was told by his clerk to wait.
When Mr. Piper arrived, he was in good spirits, asking for Julian to accompany him to his office. There, the solicitor explained he had been to the parish church listed on the certificate and had asked to see their registry.
“I found the lawful marriage recorded between your mother and Mr. Henry Barrington.”
Puzzled, he asked, “Why would you do so?”
Eyes gleaming, Mr. Piper said, “We are going to right a terrible wrong today, Julian. We are going to see your father.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I want nothing to do with him.”
“Ah, but I think you will,” Mr. Piper said mysteriously. “Humor me. But first, we shall call upon a colleague of mine.”
Knowing he had quit his job and that his only one would be with Mr. Piper, Julian decided to go along. It didn’t mean they would actually see his father. The man had never wanted contact with his son, and he doubted they would be able to see this Barrington.
They called at the offices of a Mr. Welby. Mr. Piper asked Julian to wait in the hansom cab, and a quarter-hour later, both men returned. Mr. Piper introduced Julian, and he noted the other solicitor studied him with open curiosity.
“The very image,” Welby muttered, and nodded to himself. “Well, let us do this.”
They went to an area of London Julian had never seen before. Elegant homes lined the streets. Mr. Welby mentioned the area was called Mayfair, and Julian knew this was where the wealthiest of London’s citizens resided.
The cab turned into a large square. Three huge townhouses sat on it, two opposite one another with a small park in between, and another at the far corner. The driver drove to that residence, where Mr. Piper paid the driver but asked him to wait for them.
Feeling terribly out of place as they moved to the door, Julian wanted to return to the hansom cab. He wore his usual clothes, that of a dock worker, and saw the odd look the butler gave him as he spoke with Mr. Welby.
The butler admitted them, however, and led them up a grand staircase. Julian clamped his mouth shut to keep from gaping at the marble floor and beautiful paintings on the wall. They moved along a corridor with thick carpeting and furnishings the likes he had never seen. When they reached the end, the butler had them wait inside an anteroom.
“Are we going to see him?” he asked nervously, wishing he were back outside. Or back unloading a ship. Anywhere but here, a world so unfamiliar to him.
“Yes. It is important you do this, Julian,” Mr. Piper said firmly.
“He must see you,” Mr. Welby agreed. “Your future depends upon it.”
Before he could question what that meant, the butler appeared again, grim-faced. “You may come in. Dr. Wheeler is with him.” He opened the door and stepped inside the bedchamber, ushering them inside a bedchamber four times the size of the room Julian and his mother had lived in.
The two solicitors entered first, with Julian bringing up the rear. Immediately, the stench of death hit him, and he thought of the irony of both his parents passing within a day of one another.
Yet glancing at the bed, he saw the man in it—and he was alive. Barely. Propped up with pillows behind him, his skin was sallow, his eyes burning bright from fever.
Julian’s feet propelled him closer, and his gaze locked on that of a man he had only just learned about and yet despised with every fiber of his being. Henry Barrington, a name he would never forget.
“Bloody hell . . .”
Though the words he rasped were weak, Julian heard the wonder in the man’s tone.
He stopped next to the bed, rage filling him. “I have no sympathy for you,” he uttered. “I only learned of you because my mother just passed.”
Barrington winced. “Ah, so she is gone.” He swallowed. “Your mother was an angel.”
“She was,” he agreed. “Far too good for the likes of you.”
“I see you inherited none of her gentleness. Nor her looks.” Barrington paused. “Do not look so surprised. You are obviously my son. I was hale and hardy as you thirty years ago. Saw your mother when I visited my tailor and wanted her from that very moment. She was so beautiful. Kind. Unassuming.”
“You put a babe in her belly and then ran off like a coward,” Julian accused, not mincing words.
Sighing, the man in the bed nodded. “I agree. I am despicable. I was young. Foolish. Cowed by my own father. He never would have accepted such a woman as my wife.”
“And yet you wed her,” he said.
Barrington closed his eyes for a long moment. Julian thought he might be dead. Then he opened them again.
“I did. It was important to her. She wanted none of my wealth. Only a name for you. Even then, I advised her to use her own.”
“She did. I am a Watts. And proud of it. We did just fine without you.”
“I had three other wives,” Barrington lamented. “None of them legal marriages, of course, but they were none the wiser. All barren. That was my punishment for leaving your mother. For not standing up to my father and making things right. At least you found me. I was too spineless to ever seek you out.”
Mr. Welby stepped forward. “My lord, the moment I saw this young man, I knew he was yours.” He indicated his fellow solicitor. “Mr. Piper has shown me the marriage certificate, and the marriage has been confirmed by the church registry. Julian is your legal heir.”
Barrington sighed. “I affirm everything. The marriage. The birth. My heir.”
Julian’s mind whirled. “What . . . what do you mean?”
“Too tired,” Barrington murmured. “Tell him . . . everything.”
With that, his father took a final breath and fell still.
The doctor stepped forward, checking his patient. “I am afraid his lordship is no longer with us.”
“You will attest to his deathbed confession if we have need of your testimony?” asked Mr. Piper.
“Of course.” Dr. Wheeler looked at the butler. “Grigsby here will do so, as well.”
Julian stared open-mouthed, no words coming to him.
Mr. Welby said, “You are now Julian Barrington, only heir to the Marquess of Aldridge. You will inherit his lordship’s title and holdings.”
Dumbfounded, he could only stare at Welby.
Mr. Piper clasped Julian’s elbow. “I know this is a lot to take in, my lord.”
Shrugging off the man, he said, “I am not a lord. Not a marquess. I refuse to take part in such a sham.”
Mr. Welby cleared his throat. “I am afraid there is no choice in the matter, my lord. I knew the minute I saw you that you were the marquess’ son. With the proof in hand, not to mention Lord Aldridge’s acknowledgment, you are the recognized heir. This disclosure will be made public, and you will need to take your seat in the House of Lords.”
“House of Lords! This is balderdash,” Julian declared.
Sympathy filled Mr. Piper’s eyes. “This is who you are, my lord. Though it is difficult for you to understand, you are the rightful heir.”
“But he never acknowledged me. Or Mother,” he protested. “I can’t take anything from a man I despised.”
“Whether you loathe him or not, you are still the Marquess of Aldridge, my lord,” Mr. Welby insisted. “And you wouldn’t be the first member of the ton to despise his father.”
“No more struggling,” Mr. Piper said gently. “You have a title. Property. Wealth.”
“Yes, all of that,” Mr. Welby encouraged. “This London townhouse. Aldridge Park in Surrey, which is south of Guildford, about thirty-five miles from town. I can meet with you to discuss your investments. Your holdings.”
“This is madness!” cried Julian. “Why, I am wearing one of two sets of clothing I possess. I rarely eat enough to fill my belly. I can’t be a lord.”
“But you are,” Mr. Piper insisted. “I will, along with Mr. Welby, guide you, but you have responsibilities now, my lord.”
“Yes,” Mr. Welby insisted. “Aldridge Hall has a good number of tenants you’ll need to look after.”
He grew nauseous. “So, I’m to sweep away the past. Forget where I came from. This is my world now?”
“Yes, my lord,” both solicitors replied in unison.
Head spinning, Julian asked, “Where is he to be buried?”
“Why, in Surrey,” Mr. Welby said. “All Barringtons are buried in the churchyard there.”
Determination filled him. “Then I want both my parents buried there, side-by-side. And Mother’s tombstone will be engraved with Lady Barrington on it,” he demanded. “She might not have lived the life of a marchioness, but she deserves what is rightfully hers.”
“I will see that happens, my lord,” Mr. Welby said. Looking to the butler, the solicitor said, “Grigsby, gather the staff. It is time they met the new Lord Aldridge.”
From that moment, Julian knew his life was divided—into before he had become a marquess...
And what came from now on.
CHAPTER 1
Millvale, Kent—March 1806
Lady Ariadne Worthington looked around the dinner table. Her father and older brother were engaged in conversation, Val probably trying to talk over estate business, something their father had told his son over and over was no concern of his until he became the Duke of Millbrooke. Val argued that he could be his father’s eyes and ears and visit the other ducal properties beyond Millvale, helping to prepare for the day when he did come into the title. Her brother had told Ariadne he did not wish to be completely unprepared when that time came, yet their father kept all matters of business private, frustrating Val to no end.
She turned to her left, where her younger sister Tia was complaining to their mother, begging to go to London.
“You always make us stay in the country, Mama. Why can’t we go to town with Ariadne this year? Lia and I will be making our come-outs next year. We should see something of what it is like so we can be ready.”
The duchess sniffed and looked to Lia, Tia’s twin. “Do you feel the same as Thermantia, Cornelia?”
Her parents always referred to their children by their full Christian names. While Ariadne liked the name she had been given and hadn’t wanted it shortened, her three siblings had all gone for a more diminutive form.
Lia, always a peacemaker, diplomatically said, “While it would be lovely to go to town and see more of it, I am content to stay at Millvale. There is so much to be done here.”
“Lia!” Tia said, her exasperation evident. “What happened to a united front?”
She couldn’t help but laugh. Her twin sisters favored one another in the face, but everything else about them was different.
“I mean it,” Lia insisted. “I can always help on the estate while Mama and Papa are gone.”
“But in town, we could go to the parks. The museums. Gunter’s!” Tia countered.
They had only been to town as a family once, many years ago, when they met all their cousins. Aunt Charlotte, her father’s sister, had three children of her own, as did Uncle George, their cousin who also had three children. Uncle George was deceased now, but she knew his widow continued to come to town each spring. The ten cousins had enjoyed being around one another, but they lived too far apart to get together on a regular basis.
The only cousins in the group who saw one another were Val and Constantine, Viscount Dyer. Her brother and Con were the same age and had attended school together, even sharing rooms at university. Ariadne looked forward to getting to know Con better when she made her come-out.
“It will be enough to manage your sister’s come-out without having to worry about the two of you,” Mama said. “Your governess will keep you occupied. It is your last year to have a governess, Thermantia, and you still have much to learn from Miss Nixon.”
Tia sighed dramatically. “I suppose I shall have to settle for letters.” She looked to Ariadne. “You had better write. In detail. Of all the balls and parties and what your gowns look like. The gentlemen you are interested in. The ones you kiss.”
“Thermantia!” roared the duke. “That will be enough from you.”
“Yes, Papa,” Tia said meekly, turning her interest to the plate in front of her.
Dinner finished without any more drama. Val and their father remained at the table with brandy and cigars, while the twins accompanied their mother and sister to the drawing room.
Sitting next to Ariadne, Tia said, “I mean it. You do not have to write the both of us. You can address letters to one or the other, and you know we will share.” More quietly, she said, “I want to know what kissing is all about.”
“I will write when I can,” she promised, avoiding the topic of kissing.
Her mother overheard that remark. “Ariadne will be too busy for much correspondence, Thermantia. You girls may write to her, but do not expect answers to your letters. The social calendar fills up quickly, and I assume that Ariadne will prove to be quite popular with her looks.”
She knew she was pretty, but she did worry about her hair. It was copper, an interesting blend of red and bronze. Somewhere, she had heard red hair was not considered fashionable, and men did not like it much. If so, all three Worthington sisters would be in trouble during their come-outs since they all got their varying shades of red hair from their father. Lia’s was a lovely shade of auburn, more red than brown, while Tia’s was a beautiful strawberry blond. Even Val’s hair, while appearing brown indoors, was russet, and shone red in the sunlight. Of course, he was a man and the Marquess of Claibourne, heir to a dukedom. It didn’t matter what color of hair he had. When he decided to wed, Val would easily have his choice of ladies.
Papa and Val joined them. The twins begged off, promising to get up early to see her off tomorrow morning. Val took her aside, and they went to sit in chairs by the window.
“Are you excited about taking part in the upcoming Season?” he asked.
“A part of me is. It will be fun to make new friends and wear pretty gowns. Go to the different events. But I worry about disappointing Mama and Papa.”
He frowned. “How so?”
She shook her head. “It is different from you. You aren’t expected to wed right away, while I will be looked upon as a failure if I do not. After all, I am the daughter of a duke, with fair looks and a hefty dowry.” She hesitated. “What if I cannot find a gentleman I like?”
Val smiled. “You don’t have to worry, Sis. I guarantee there are plenty of eligible bachelors who will vie to meet you. I will personally find out everything I can about the ones interested in you and inform you of all you need to know about them. Just tell me which ones you fancy, and I’ll make certain they are good enough for you. I won’t have you wedding someone irresponsible or a man who will treat you unfairly.”
She took his hand, squeezing it. “I am grateful you will be looking out for me. I fear Mama will push me toward men who possess the highest titles or those with the greatest wealth. Papa will be just as bad.” In a gruff voice, imitating the duke, she said, “A man must be worthy to wed my Ariadne.”
They both laughed, and Val said, “His Grace is intimidating. That will cause some to shy away. Others will also learn how protective I am of you. That might frighten a few more away.”
Laughing, she said, “Will there be anyone left to woo me?”
“Only those brave enough to face the wrath of the Duke of Millbrooke and the Marquis of Claibourne. If they can, they may be found suitable.” His gaze met hers. “Do not be in a rush, Ariadne. If you find no one to your liking this first Season, regardless of how Mama pushes you, then wait for the next. Not every girl weds after her come-out Season. You want to be certain you have found the right husband.”
“I fear my inexperience will lead me to the wrong person,” she said worriedly. “I do not want to make a mistake. Marriage is for life.”
“True,” Val said, his brows knitting together. “But you aren’t looking for love, are you?”
“Goodness, no,” she said quickly. “Even I am not foolish enough to think I would make a love match. Do they really even exist?”
“Not that I know of,” he said breezily. “Still, I believe you can find a man who will treat you kindly. One who will be generous toward you. I would never allow you to be stuck with someone who is cruel or overbearing. Just take each event one at a time. Meet as many people as you can. And do not merely search for a husband. Have fun. Make new friends. Live a little. I believe if you do, your path will cross with the man meant for you.”
Ariadne hugged her brother. “I am so glad you will be there. Con, too. I am looking forward to getting to know him better. It seems so odd that we have so many cousins, yet we have only been in their presence that one week.”
“Con is reliable. You will not find a more dependable man in the city. I will have him help me to scrutinize your beaux.”
“Ah, so now I have the two of you looking after me. What more could a girl wish for?”
Shortly after, Ariadne retired to her bedchamber, where her maid helped her to undress.
“Ready to go to town, Tally?” she asked.
“Yes, my lady. I’ve been a country girl all my life. It’s exciting to get to go to town.” The servant paused. “And hopefully, we can stay together.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” She hugged the maid. “I assumed you wished to go with me whenever I wed. Of course, it might not be a ducal household. I know some servants are very conscious about their employer’s status.”
“Oh, no, my lady. I don’t care a thing about that. I just want to serve you. If you and your husband want me, that is.”
“Tally, I will refuse to marry any man who would dictate to me who I can have for my maid. My husband will not even care about household matters. Those will be left up to me, his wife. I shall be in charge of hiring and firing staff. You will always have a place with me.”
“Thank you, my lady,” the maid said, tears swimming in her eyes. “You’ve put my mind at ease.”
After Tally left and Ariadne lay in bed, she found her mind whirling and sleep impossible.
What would her life in town be like? What would the Season truly entail? She hoped she would make new friends and enjoy the social gatherings. Once the Season ended, she might well be engaged. Then the ceremony would take place, and she’d be off to her new home.
A wave of sadness passed over her. Kent had always been home. What if she wed a man who lived far away from Millvale? She might only see her brother and sisters each year during the Season. If they came. Not everyone in Polite Society participated in the Season. Some lived far from town and did not come often. Women, in particular, skipped the Season if they were increasing. It was hard to imagine not seeing Tia and Lia on a daily basis, something she had always taken for granted.
She wished now that she had fought to have her sisters accompany her to London. Maybe after they had been there a few weeks, she might tell her mother she missed her siblings and ask if they could join them. Yes, that was definitely a good plan. It would certainly please Tia, and Lia would happily accompany her twin to town. That decided, Ariadne dropped off to sleep easily.
In the morning, she rang for Tally and dressed quickly before going downstairs for breakfast.
Pulling Tia aside, she said, “Do not react to what I say, but I am going to ask Mama to send for you and Tia after the Season has started. You are right. I feel a bit ill-prepared, and I want better next year for you and Lia. While you will not be able to attend any social events, I can tell you about them. You can also help me choose what to wear on different occasions.”
Tia looked at her without a trace of a smile. “That would be lovely, Ariadne. You are a wonderful sister. I am sorry I have to look at you as if I am bored, because all I want to do is jump up and down and throw my arms about you.”
“Perhaps you should go on the stage,” Ariadne mused. “I never knew your acting skills were so good.”
“There is a lot you do not know about me,” Tia said, sounding as regal as a queen.
She hugged Tia. “I already miss you.”
Once they had breakfasted, she said her goodbyes, both to servants and her sisters. She accompanied Val to the first coach of three, and he handed her up. Mama and Papa joined them. Ariadne leaned out the window as the coach started up, waving the entire way down the lane, until everyone turned to specks.
She settled herself, seeing Mama already leaning against the window, softly snoring. Val and Papa were talking about one of the estates in Essex, so she passed the time staring out the window at the lovely countryside they passed. She wondered when her aunts and uncle would be arriving in town. At least with her being of age now and able to come to London each Season, over the years she might get to know her younger cousins. Besides Con, Aunt Charlotte had two daughters, Lucy and Dru. Uncle George had had a son named Hadrian, who now held the earldom, and two girls, Verina and Justina. From what her mother said, Ariadne gathered Aunt Agnes continued coming to town each spring to see friends, though Mama said she doubted Agnes would ever remarry.
They switched horses halfway through their journey, getting out to stretch their legs a bit. Mama immediately dropped off to sleep again once they were back on the road, her snoring louder this time. Ariadne kept studying the view outside, eager when she caught sight of London. As they approached, she thought it was possible this might be last time she did so as an unmarried lady. By next spring, she could well be a married woman, entering the gates of the city with her husband.
She knew the Worthington townhouse was in Mayfair. Parts of the city seemed familiar to her, and she supposed her one visit years ago had made an impression upon her.
What bothered her, though, was catching sight of the poor as the vehicle moved through London. She had been too young to notice before, but now Ariadne saw children on the streets, many without shoes, though the temperature for March was brisk. Looking with a critical eye, she also saw adults dressed in rags. Her heart ached, thinking of families who went cold or hungry.
Determination filled her. She would do something about this situation. Though she was only one person and her efforts would only touch a few lives, she believed it was her duty to help the less fortunate. How she would go about doing so would be tricky, especially since she was under the impression that her hours would be filled with social activities. Still, she could carve out time for the less fortunate. She could make this happen.
And would.
When they turned into a square, she caught sight of their townhouse. Three houses occupied this square. Two faced one another, with a small park in the middle. Another house sat at the end of the square. Their carriage went down one side, turned, and then went back up the other, coming to a halt.
“We’re here, Mama,” Ariadne said, shaking her mother gently.
Mama blinked. “Already? The drive used to take so much longer.”
She caught Val’s eye and had to turn away, covering her laughter with a cough.
Her brother leaped from the vehicle, assisting his father out. The duke strode into the house without a word to anyone. Val helped Mama out next, with Ariadne coming last. She smiled at the servants, greeting them.
“You are Parsons,” she recalled. “And Mrs. Parsons.”
“Yes, my lady,” the housekeeper said. “We are ever so happy to have you in town for your come-out Season.”
“Tea, Parsons,” Mama commanded, sailing into the house.
Val looked at her. “I’ve had enough of them for now. I will see you at dinner. I am off to my club.”
“Why don’t women have a club to go to?” she called after him, seeing him grin over his shoulder as he hurried away.
She went to her room, happy to see how large it was. Tally unpacked for her, chattering away.
“I had better go have tea with Mama,” she told her maid, traveling downstairs, where Parsons directed her to her mother’s sitting room.
“We shall meet with the modiste tomorrow,” Mama told her. “I have booked her for the entire day.”
“It will take that long?”
Mama smiled. “You will spend more time with her than anyone this Season, Ariadne.”
Once they had a cup of tea, she decided to go and see the park across the street, ready to be outdoors after having been cooped up in the carriage on their drive to town. She went to her room and claimed her cloak, since it was a bit chilly, and a book. Making her way out the front door, she told the footman where she would be.
“Enjoy your reading, my lady,” he told her. “There’s a gate to enter the park. Faces the single house.”
She thanked him and walked directly there, glad he had informed her of where the gate was located. Entering, she decided to explore its entire length before finding a bench to sit upon. When she came to its center, however, she spied a man sitting and stopped in her tracks.
His eyes were closed, his booted feet stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His arms rested against the back of the bench. His face was turned up to the sun, his eyes closed.
Ariadne approached him, not certain how to handle the situation. Mama had told her she was never to speak to any stranger and that at every societal affair, she must be introduced to anyone she did not know by someone she did know. Here, alone in the park, though, it seemed rude if she avoided this man. After all, he must live in one of the two other nearby townhouses, else he wouldn’t be here.
He must have sensed her presence because his head moved, his eyes coming to rest on her. His dark, thick hair and thick brows were a direct contrast to his pale, blue eyes. His face was handsome, but he had a look about him, as if he were a hungry tiger on the prowl for a meal.
“Excuse me,” she said, taking two more steps toward him. “I did not mean to disturb you.”
“Talking to me disturbs me,” he said bluntly.
His words took her aback. She frowned deeply. “I am Lady Ariadne Worthington. My father is the Duke of Millbrooke. Our family townhouse is next to this park. I assume it is for us and all our neighbors to enjoy.”
An amused look crossed his face. “Not afraid to scold me, are you?” he asked.
She felt her cheeks heat, knowing her tone had been harsh, but she wasn’t going to apologize to this man.
“Just because you hold a title does not mean you have the right to be discourteous,” she countered.
“How do you know I hold a title?”
“First, because you are present here and must live in one of the two other townhouses on this square. Second, you are not a second or third son because they are not nearly as surly. Not all men who hold the rank of peer are uncivil, but I will venture those who are as boorish as you do hold a title and feel entitled. I am sorry I spoke to you, especially since we are strangers. I should have waited for a proper introduction, as is required. I will continue to investigate this small park, and then I shall find a spot to sit, far away from you. I will never speak to you again, my lord. Even if our paths do cross.”
“Assertive,” he said, studying her lazily, making her cheeks burn. “You are entitled yourself, Lady Ariadne, being a duke’s daughter.”
“Others might believe that true, but I value those with good manners who seek to be kind to all. I cannot help my parentage, but I will not apologize for it. Good day, my lord.”
Ariadne forced herself to continue walking to the part of the park she had yet to see, knowing she would eventually have to turn around and come across this man again. Though dreading it, she hoped he would be gone by the time she came around a second time.
Unfortunately, that was not the case. In fact, this time, he stood as she drew near.
“Forgive my insolence, my lady,” he said, surprising her with his gentle tone, as well as the apology. “Though it is not an excuse, I am new to the world of Polite Society and have an innate sense of inferiority.”
His revealing words shocked her—and drew her curiosity.
“Then I would have us start by introducing ourselves again,” she said.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” he said, sounding civil and courteous this time. “Might I introduce myself to you? I am Julian Barrington, the Marquess of Aldridge. My townhouse sits at the bottom of the square. I gather we are neighbors.”
He took her ungloved hand in greeting. Something raced through her, a wild, wonderful feeling that had her catch her breath. She knew he felt it, too, because he looked at her, puzzled, and then released her hand.
Recovering, she said, “I am pleased to meet you, my lord. I am Lady Ariadne Worthington, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Millbrooke.” She paused. “See? Wasn’t that better?”
“Forgive my previous brusqueness. I was a bit out of sorts and took it out on you. It was ungentlemanly of me.”
“I will forgive you. In fact, let us pretend it did not occur and that we met just now.”
Lord Aldridge smiled at her. “I think I will be very happy to be your neighbor, Lady Ariadne.”
“Likewise, my lord. Have you held your title long?”
“I came into it last summer, so I would say almost eight months now.”
She was interested in learning more about him, but said, “I believe I will go and read now, my lord. I hope to see you at the Season. That is, if you are attending it.”
“Yes. Invitations are piling up on my desk as we speak. Even though no one knows me, they all wish for the Marquess of Aldridge to attend their little social affairs.”
“Perhaps you might come to dinner one evening. I will speak to my mother and father about it.”
He studied her. “Have you attended the Season before, my lady?”
“No. I am to make my come-out this spring.”
A knowing look came into his eyes. “That means you are on the hunt for a husband. I have heard it called the Marriage Mart.”
Blushing again, she said, “You need to learn to curb your tongue, my lord, and not speak your every thought aloud. Members of Polite Society do not go about saying such things.”
He shrugged nonchalantly, making him look rather appealing. “I see I have much to learn about this new world. Perhaps you could—"
“It is not my place to teach you of such things, my lord. Find someone at your club to do so.”
“I suppose I have a club. I will have to ask.”
For a moment, it struck her how lonely he looked. Perhaps that was why he acted so disgruntled. Pity moved her to say, “My brother belongs to White’s. I will have him come around and meet you. He is the Marquess of Claibourne.”
“Ah, another marquess. Then we are destined to be friends.”
“Is that sarcasm, my lord?”
His eyes gleamed at her. “You are most perceptive, my lady.”
Irritation filled her. “I am trying to do you a favor by sending Val your way. My brother,” she added when his brows arched in question.
“Then send Claibourne. I fear I am going to need all the help I can get.”
Afraid if she stayed in the park, it might lead to more conversation, she abruptly said, “Good day, my lord,” and hurried away.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know,” he called after her, causing Ariadne to laugh.
She wasn’t afraid of him—but her interest was certainly piqued by him. Ariadne would definitely have Val make Aldridge’s acquaintance.
And find out his story.
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