An Unforeseen Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance
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Synopsis
Valentinian Worthington, a carefree charmer, finds himself the Duke of Millbrooke after his father's sudden death. The lighthearted bachelor must quickly assume his responsibilities as head of the family, caring for his widowed mother and two younger sisters.
Miss Eden Snow lost her father in a riding accident, and her mother's death followed shortly thereafter. The new Viscount Brownley orders her off his estate, and she becomes a governess, dismissed from her first post because she refuses to become intimate with her employer. Now, she is happy employed, spending the past five years educating Lady Traywick's daughters, Verina and Justina.
Accompanying her charges to visit their cousin, a duke, Eden hopes to escape the duke's notice, but Val is drawn to the attractive, intelligent woman. He convinces her they can be friends, and a strong bond forms between them, as they grow comfortable in one another's company. Val needs a duchess—and he believes Eden is the only one for him.
Will Val convince Eden that a governess can make for a wonderful duchess?
Tropes/Themes:
✅ Inherited title / Sudden inheritance
✅ Governess heroine
✅ Class difference / Across the social divide
✅ Friends to lovers
✅ Hero falls first
✅ Strong, independent heroine
✅ Charming rake turned responsible duke
✅ Slow burn romance
✅ Cinderella vibes / Commoner to duchess
✅ Protective hero
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: August 1, 2025
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Print pages: 250
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An Unforeseen Kiss: A Regency Historical Romance
Alexa Aston
PROLOGUE
Brownstone—March 1800
Eden Snow sat in bed, nibbling on the toast points her maid had brought for breakfast. She was rarely hungry in the mornings and alternated between a single poached egg or a few toast points, accompanied by a cup of tea.
She took the last sip of her tea before setting the tray aside, ready to dress for the day. Polly helped her from her night rail and into a riding habit, taking time to braid Eden’s hair in a long, single braid.
“There you go, Miss Eden,” the servant said. “Are you off to visit your mother?”
She nodded, sadness filling her. Within a week, Eden and her father would be leaving for town in order to attend the upcoming Season. Her mother, who was bedridden, would remain behind at Brownstone. She had never been separated from her mother and while she looked forward to attending the various social events, Eden knew how much she would miss her guidance as she navigated the waters of the Marriage Mart during her come-out.
Still, Papa would be there to help advise her. Eden was as close to her father as she was her mother. Being an only child, she had gravitated to her parents and spent a huge portion of her day with one or both.
While she was eager to get to know some of the other young ladies making their come-outs, she wasn’t sure exactly how to go about making friends. She had never had any previously. Because of her mother’s health, Eden had always chosen to keep close to Brownstone, only venturing into the village with her father upon occasion or for church on Sundays. Her world had been a very small one compared to what would await her in town.
Miss Barnes, her governess, had left them at the beginning of the new year. She had said she was no longer needed since Eden was now grown, and Miss Barnes had taken a new position with a family with two little girls, ages four and six. Eden still missed her former governess terribly and wrote to Miss Barnes once a week. She doubted she would be able to keep up with that correspondence, though, because Mama said Eden would be too busy once the Season began.
She left her bedchamber and headed toward her mother’s rooms, entering the small sitting room which was never used since Mama never left her bed. The door to the bedchamber was slightly ajar. As Eden started to open it, she heard Mama’s voice mention her name. Something caused her to wait a moment, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.
“You must speak with Eden today, John,” her mother said firmly. “She must understand it is imperative that she wed by the end of the Season.”
“I think you are worried for nothing. Eden has plenty of time to choose a husband. If none of the gentlemen are to her liking this year, why, she can do a second Season as she looks for a husband.”
A long pause sounded, and she felt guilty for eavesdropping on her parents, but she wondered what her mother was talking about and decided to keep her presence unknown for the time being.
“You, of all people, John, know how life can change in an instant. I would not see our only daughter left unprotected.”
She leaned around and saw her father’s head fall into his wife’s lap. Mama stroked his hair tenderly.
“I will never forgive myself for what I did to you, Mary,” Papa said, raising his head, tears staining his cheeks.
Mama cupped his cheek, her thumb wiping away his tears. “How many times have I told you, my darling, that it was not your fault what happened to me?”
“But I knew you were timid around horses. You only agreed to learn how to ride in order to please me, and look what that got you. If I hadn’t made you go out that day . . .” His voice trailed off.
Eden knew about the accident. How her mother’s horse had bolted with an inexperienced rider on its back, racing across a field and jumping a fence. Mama had been thrown from the horse, her spine severely injured in the fall as she hit the ground. She had lost all feeling from her waist down.
Eden had only been six months old.
Despite Mama’s disability, Eden had never lacked for attention from her mother. Mama remained a bright light in both her and her father’s lives. She chose to be happy that she had only hurt her spine and not died in the fall. She always told Eden to cherish each day, saying that no matter how sad you might feel, there was always someone else with deeper, more serious problems, and that Eden should always be grateful for what she had.
“If you wish, I will speak with her this morning before the two of you ride,” Mama said.
“How I wish you could come to town with us, Mary,” Papa said, the anguish obvious in his voice.
“You know travel is impossible for me. You will need to write to me every day. Tell me of Eden’s suitors and all the events you escort her to.”
“It will be so very hard to be parted from you, my love. We have spent every night of our marriage together under this roof. To be apart for months and months is almost more than I can bear.”
“You will be doing it for our Eden, John. For her future happiness.”
“You are right, as always,” he said, resignation in his voice. “I will leave you now so that the two of you might chat. I will reiterate to Eden what you tell her today.”
She watched her father place a tender kiss upon Mama’s brow, and Eden quietly slipped from the sitting room, heading back into the corridor, where she gathered her thoughts.
Why did she need to wed during her first Season? Even Mama had told her that some girls, including herself, took more than one Season before they settled into marriage. Mama had seemed adamant, however, that her daughter wed.
She reentered the sitting room just as Papa came through the bedchamber door.
He smiled at her. “I will head to my study. When you and your mother have finished your visit, come and get me. We will go for our daily ride.”
In spite of her injuries, Mama had insisted that Eden learn how to ride. From a young age, she had been placed in the saddle and never showed any fear of horses, thanks to her parents keeping the precise nature of her mother’s accident from her until she was older and already an experienced rider. She grew to love her hours in the saddle. Even her father said she rode superbly, and he was known as the best rider in the area.
“All right, Papa. I will see you soon.”
Entering the bedchamber, she went to Mama’s side, kissing her cheek before taking the chair next to the bed. She had spent so many hours in this room because Mama never left it. Even afternoon tea was served here so that the three of them might be together.
“Well, it is less than a week until you leave for town,” Mama said brightly. “Do you have any more questions about the Season?”
“I cannot think of a one,” she said honestly. “You have told me about so many of the different kinds of affairs which are held. You have explained the social rules and how I must follow them to the letter. I only wish you could come with us, Mama,” she said fervently.
“You know that is not possible, my child. My condition has deteriorated over the years. You probably do not recall, but I used to be carried downstairs for tea and dinner.”
That surprised her. “You did?”
“Yes. You were still very young then. Your father would lift and carry me. I even had a bath chair he would set me in on the terrace so I could enjoy a nice day. It came to be too much for me, however. It is easier to remain in this bed.”
Mama took Eden’s hand. “But how I wish I could go to town with you. See all the beautiful gowns you will wear. Meet the men who will woo you.” She squeezed Eden’s hand and released it. “There is something important we must discuss, Eden. I know you will write to me of what you do in town and the gentlemen you are interested in. I will do my best to give you advice from a distance, but you will need to choose a gentleman to wed by Season’s end. It is imperative that you do so.”
“Why, Mama?” she asked, perplexed. “You and Papa were a love match. I would seek that for myself, and it might take some time. Papa has been so devoted to you all these years, never leaving your side. I want a man who also would be that faithful to me.”
Her mother’s face grew stern. “Love matches are rare, Eden. Very few exist in Polite Society. I would tell you not to fill your head with ideas of love. Instead, look for a good man. A kind one. He may not be the most handsome or possess the most wealth, but character is what is important. In fact, many men are overlooked because young ladies are ore dazzled by titles and riches.”
“I will give every gentleman fair consideration, Mama.” She covered her mother’s hand with her own. “Why do you feel I must wed this first Season when you did not?”
“I did not want to have to say this to you, Eden, but life can change in an instant. I am the best example of that. One day, I was a young woman, practically a newlywed. In love with my husband and the mother of our first child. The next, I could not stand on my own two feet, much less take a single step. I could not give your father the heir he deserved. Because of that, you know his title will go to your cousin.”
Eden shivered involuntarily. Cousin Edgar was selfish and rude. He was an only child and had been spoiled from the moment of his birth. Her uncle had lost his wife in childbirth and because of that, Uncle Snow focused every minute of each day on his only son. She hated that Edgar would one day assume her father’s title as Viscount Brownley.
“While your father remains in excellent health, you never know when an accident or sudden death might occur. That would leave Edgar as the viscount, and he has only been interested in himself. Though he would be charged to care for the two of us once he becomes the viscount, I doubt he would do so in a proper fashion, Eden. Because of that, I want you protected. If you are wed, you will have your husband to look after you and your interests. Then it will not matter who the viscount is once your father is gone.”
“But you said so yourself, Mama. Papa has robust health.”
Her mother’s expression grew solemn. “As I did before I took that fall from my horse.”
She gazed at her mother, who suddenly appeared more fragile than she had only yesterday.
“Mama, are you well?”
Mama gave her a rueful smile. “As well as one who is bedridden can be, my dearest. But I am serious. Do this for me. Find yourself a husband. Marry him. And then bring him here to Brownstone to meet me.”
Eden swallowed. It hurt to know that her mother would not be able to attend her only child’s wedding. That her world was confined to this one room.
“I will do as you ask, Mama. I will be diligent in regard to finding a husband, and I will have Papa get to know the gentlemen I am especially interested in. He can help guide me through the Season and into a marriage.”
Her mother took Eden’s hands, kissing them tenderly. “Thank you for doing this, dearest.” Her eyes bright with tears, sparkled. “Oh, I cannot wait to receive letters from you, telling me of all the wonderful balls and garden parties.”
“Do not forget card parties,” she said, smiling.
Her mother had taught her how to play various card games, as well as chess, and they had passed many hours engaged in both.
“You are rather clever when it comes to games,” Mama praised. “Gentlemen will be flocking to partner with you. Go. Your father is waiting for you.”
She rose, brushing a kiss against her mother’s cheek. “Rest for now, Mama. I will be back to see you soon.”
Eden went downstairs and claimed her father, thinking over what Mama had said. If Cousin Edgar could not be trusted to look after her, she worried about what might happen to Mama. She determined to find a generous man who would allow Mama to be brought into their household once her father passed.
They headed to the stables, where a groom saddled their horses for them.
“Where shall we ride today?” Papa asked.
“Let us go to the top of the ridge,” she suggested.
They did as she requested and dismounted, walking to the edge and gazing out over Brownstone.
“I will miss home and the country while we are in town,” she said wistfully. “And Mama.”
Papa’s fingers closed around hers. “We both will be a little bit lonely without your mother’s calming presence in our lives.”
After several minutes spent in peaceful silence, looking over the land, they returned to their horses. Papa tossed her into the saddle and mounted himself.
They cantered down the hill and through a valley, and Eden cried, “I will race you!”
She took off, tearing across the field, Papa’s horse galloping close behind. Then she heard a sudden cry and wheeled about. Her father’s horse was collapsing, and Papa sailed over the horse. Her heart was in her throat as he hit the ground hard. The horse was in distress, making terrible noises, but Eden blocked out the sounds, leaping from her horse and racing to her father.
He lay at an awkward angle, his neck twisted. She turned him over gently and saw his eyes wild with fright. His breath rattled loudly.
“Papa!” she cried, clasping his shoulders, feeling helpless.
The light began fading from his eyes, and she begged, “Papa. Please. Don’t leave me. Please.”
With his dying breath, he managed to say, “Tell Mary . . . I . . . love her.”
Then he ceased breathing.
Eden let out a howl of hurt, falling atop his prostrate body, clutching him, pleading for him to open his eyes. To come back to her.
She pushed to her feet, hearing the weak cries of his mount. Going to the animal, she stroked the horse’s side, seeing that its leg was broken, its eyes full of pain.
Knowing she needed to put the horse out of its misery, she returned to Papa. He always carried a pistol with him when he left the house, a habit he had picked up from his own father.
Eden’s fingers found the weapon, and with tears streaming down her face, she went to his horse. Bending, she kissed its snout.
“I am so sorry. So very sorry.”
The single gunshot erupted, disturbing the peace of the country day. She knew it would bring others to them. She stroked the horse a final time, the pistol falling from her hand. Returning to her father, she lifted his head and placed it in her lap, sobbing quietly.
A few minutes later, their steward and one of their tenants arrived on horseback. The two men quickly assessed the situation, and the steward asked her to come with him, saying that her father’s body would be cared for.
“No,” she said resolutely. “I must stay with him. Place him atop my horse. I will take Papa home.”
She lifted her father’s head and eased away from him, placing his head back on the ground. Eden watched as the two men lifted him and placed Papa face down over her saddle. She took up the reins and slowly walked the horse back to the stables. The tenant rode ahead to let others know to expect her.
And their dead master.
By the time she entered the house, the doctor met her. She had forgotten this was his usual day to call upon her mother and supposed he had come from upstairs.
“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked, concern in his voice.
She shrugged, feeling all the life had gone out of her, as well.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Papa’s horse suffered a broken leg,” she said dully. “It stumbled, and Papa was unexpectedly thrown from the saddle. I think . . . his neck was broken.” She began weeping, adding, “I had to shoot the horse. It was suffering so much.”
“I will go and examine his lordship,” the doctor said gently. “I would like to give you something to help you sleep.”
“Not yet. I must go and tell Mama what has happened.”
Feeling ancient, Eden climbed the stairs slowly, wondering how she would break the news to Mama. She couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that both her parents had suffered falls from their horses. One had been left unable to use her legs, while the other had lost his life.
A sudden fear seized her. Only this morning, Mama had voiced her worries regarding the death of her husband—and what it would mean for her and Eden. Her cousin Edgar would now become Viscount Brownley. Would he turn her and Mama out? And what about her come-out?
Her heart pounding, she pushed open the door to her mother’s bedchamber and found Mama sleeping. Eden took the chair beside the bed, worry filling her.
After sitting for some minutes, she could wait no longer and gently shook her mother.
Mama stirred, opening her eyes. “Eden, darling.” She frowned. “What is wrong? You have been crying.”
Her tears had ceased once the dread filled her, but she had always looked terrible for hours after she cried.
“I have some bad news, Mama,” she said quietly. “It is about Papa.”
Her mother sucked in a quick breath. “Oh!” she cried, as understanding clearly filled her. “He is gone, isn’t he? How?”
She nodded. “His horse broke its leg. Papa was not prepared for the suddenness of it. He fell from the horse.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Mama, he broke his neck in the fall. He is . . . no more.”
Mama turned white and began to tremble all over. “My worst fears have come to pass. Edgar is now Lord Brownley.”
“You do not think he would turn us out, do you?” she asked, afraid of the answer her mother would give.
“I cannot predict what evils lurk in his mind, Eden. But he must be notified at once.”
After her uncle’s death two years ago, Edgar had left Cambridge, where Eden gathered he had not met with much academic success. Edgar had gone to London and taken over his father’s rented rooms. Her cousin had even made a trip to Brownstone, encouraging his uncle to reopen his shuttered townhouse so he might live there. It had remained unused in all the years after her mother’s accident. Papa had refused Cousin Edgar’s request, telling him that the townhouse would come to him in good time.
The townhouse had remained closed until only yesterday, when some of their staff had traveled to town in order to prepare for her and Papa’s arrival next week. They were to air out the place, remove the dustcovers from furniture, and clean everything from windows and rugs to linens.
Now, Edgar would get his wish. He would have the London townhouse and everything else that belonged to the viscountcy.
“I will write to him now and send the message at once,” she told her mother. Kissing her brow, she added, “Try to get some rest.” Then she remembered something important.
“Mama, Papa lived for a few seconds after the fall. He told me to tell you that he loved you. His last thoughts were of you.”
She left the room as her mother began to wail, the news of her husband’s death finally sinking in. Though Eden, too, wished to give in to her own sorrow, she must be the strong one now. Papa had always taken care of her and Mama. It was now up to her to care for her mother.
After composing the brief letter informing Cousin Edgar of her father’s untimely death, she found their butler and asked that a footman ride to town to deliver the note in person.
“Of course, my lady,” the butler said, pity in his eyes.
The doctor entered the house again and asked, “Might we speak in private, Miss Snow?”
“Yes,” she said, leading him to what had once been her mother’s parlor. The room now sat unused.
After they were seated, the physician said, “You were correct. Lord Brownley did break his neck. I do not believe he suffered, though.”
She kept quiet about the last half-minute of her father’s life. Let the man think her father had died instantly. It would do no good to say otherwise.
“My lady?” the doctor asked, looking mournfully at her. “I must share something with you.” He hesitated. “It is not good news.”
A coldness swept through her. Stiffly, she said, “Tell me. Now.”
“Your mother has lost weight recently. I have been worried about her. I have discovered that . . . well, I will not go into complicated medical terms, but you must be made aware that she hasn’t long to live.”
Her throat tightened, even as acid filled her belly. “How long?” she demanded.
“I would venture between three and six months.”
“I see.”
“I will share this with the new Lord Brownley. Once he takes up his position.”
“Do not do that,” she said firmly. “He may have inherited my father’s title, but he is not family. I do not wish for him to be privy to such information. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“What can be done for her?”
He shrugged. “We can keep her comfortable. Your mother has never been one to complain, but I fear the pain will grow great.”
“You must teach me to do whatever else must be done to care for her,” she said.
“A few drops of laudanum will help ease Lady Brownley’s suffering when the time comes. It can be placed in a drink or soup.” The physician hesitated. “A time will come when she may refuse to eat or drink, yet she will still be experiencing pain. Only then will you need to place a drop directly upon her tongue.”
Eden thought she would ask Cousin Edgar if they might move to the dower house. It would give her mother privacy in which to spend her final days. In fact, she decided to have the servants ready the dower house immediately. That way, the manor house would be vacated by the time her cousin arrived at Brownstone. Surely, Edgar would not toss them from the dower house. This way, she and Mama would be out of his way. Out of sight, out of mind.
At least Eden told herself that would be the case.
“I will also call every week, as I have. More often if she needs to see me.”
“Thank you. Come to the dower house in the future. I will care for Mama there.”
After he left, she found their butler. The housekeeper had been among those servants who had gone to town to ready the townhouse. Eden explained how she wished for the dower house to be cleaned and readied so that she and her mother might move in promptly.
“I am guessing that my cousin will prefer his privacy,” she explained, but she saw the butler knew why she did what she did.
“I will see to it at once, my lady. As well as to Lord Brownley. I have sent for the vicar. He should be arriving shortly.”
She realized she would need to be the one who planned Papa’s funeral service. It would simply be too much for Mama to handle.
“That was quite thoughtful. Thank you.”
As Eden waited for the clergyman to arrive, she decided to cherish the days she had left with her mother.
And try not to worry about her own future.
CHAPTER 1
Millvale, Kent—May 1807
Valentinian Worthington, the former Marquess of Claibourne, watched as his father’s coffin was lowered into the ground in the Willowshire churchyard. He was now the Duke of Millbrooke.
And totally unprepared to fulfill his ducal responsibilities.
It wasn’t that he did not possess the intelligence or that he lacked empathy for his tenants. Val had simply been prevented from ever having anything to do with his future, thanks to his father’s iron grip on the dukedom. While he had never sought to usurp his father’s authority, Val would have liked to have become involved to some extent with the various properties owned by the Worthington family. He had longed to be made aware of their investments, as well as to have a clear picture of the financial situation he would one day inherit when the title fell to him.
He wasn’t a fool, having moved in Polite Society for several years now after leaving university. He knew sometimes the heads of families made unwise business decisions or even gambled away family fortunes. To the world of the ton, these matters could be hidden. Bills from tradesmen would go unpaid. Food and wine merchants might be left in the lurch. Sometimes, years could go by without entitled noblemen paying for any goods and services, the head of the family simply ignoring a downward financial spiral.
What would he find now that he had access to any secrets his father might have kept?
The duke had always brushed off Val’s concerns when he voiced them, telling his son and heir apparent to simply enjoy the bachelor life. Millbrooke had held strong opinions and even stronger convictions, and Val knew there would be no going against his father. So, he did as requested.
He enjoyed himself. Probably more than he should have.
His reputation was that of a charmer. Val Worthington was downright irresistible, to both men and women. He had an aura about him which drew others to him like a moth drawn to a flame. Everything came easily to him, from academics to sports. His school chums were merely acquaintances, though. He never let any of them get too close to him, except for his cousin. Con was like a brother to Val, and they had been close for almost twenty years. They had gone away to school together. Even shared rooms during university and even afterward in town. They had also made their way through women of the ton, albeit with discretion.
Family was important to him, though, and he was close to his three sisters. Ariadne had made her come-out last Season, wedding the Marquess of Aldridge. She now lived at Aldridge Manor in Surrey and had given birth to their first child last week. Val had yet to meet little Penelope. With his father’s recent death, he wasn’t certain when he might be able to do so.
Not only would he need to learn everything about being a duke, he would also need to prioritize the wellbeing of his mother and sisters. Mama had taken her husband’s death hard. Thankfully, Aunt Agnes had been with them in town before the start of the Season when his father had died suddenly. She had accompanied them back to Millvale. As his mother’s closest friend, Mama would lean on Aunt Agnes in the coming days and weeks.
He was more concerned about the twins. Lia and Tia were meant to make their come-outs next month. Obviously, that would not occur since their house was in mourning. He knew how much the pair had looked forward to the Season and hopefully finding their husbands. They would most likely mourn the loss of a year away from Polite Society more than the death of their father. Millbrooke had been cold to all three of his daughters.
While the duke favored his son and heir apparent, Millbrooke was a man who kept everyone at a distance, other than his sister. Val’s Aunt Charlotte, mother to Con, Lucy, and Dru, always had a special closeness with her brother, and the family joked how Aunt Charlotte was even more formidable and stubborn than the duke himself. Lucy would make her own come-out this Season. He supposed Dru would do so the following year. At least Tia and Lia would have that cousin to share in the social whirl.
The vicar finished his prayer, indicating the service was all but concluded. He nodded to Val, who went and scooped a handful of dirt, tossing it atop the coffin now resting in the ground. As he moved away, others in attendance did the same. He moved toward the carriage and entered it, the coachman taking him back to Millvale. He had called for his horse to be readied to ride to the funeral service, but Quigby, Millvale’s longtime butler, had pulled Val aside, telling him it would be more fitting for a duke to arrive in his ducal carriage for the service.
To him, hearing that felt like the last of his freedom slipping away. From now on, he would be judged differently because he was a duke. He must maintain a certain standard. Be a leader in Polite Society. Even take on a bride. After all, a duke needed an heir—and hopefully, a spare—to keep order in the family. He had thought he had years before he would need to wed. Now that, too, was something pressing upon him.
As he returned to Millvale, he knew to prepare himself for the onslaught which would follow. Neighbors from the area, along with various residents of Willowshire, would soon be descending upon the house to offer their condolences to the family. Cook and her staff had been busy the past two days, preparing for the numerous guests.
He arrived home and entered the house. The twins met him. Women rarely attended funeral services, and he had asked them their preference. Both had admitted that they wished to remain home, with Tia, as usual, being the most vocal. She had confessed that she did not want to go to the church and graveyard because she would have to muster tears. She said their father had rarely spoken a word to either her or Lia, and she did not feel any sadness at his passing. Though left unsaid, it was obvious that Tia was resentful in having to postpone the Season she had looked forward to, all because of their father’s untimely passing. Lia had silently nodded, agreeing with her sister, so Val had not pressed them to accompany him.
Mama, who was visibly upset, had been in no condition to go with him. He only hoped she might rally and be able to receive their guests.
“Did everything go well?” Tia asked him.
“Yes. Mr. Clarke did a nice job with the eulogy. A good number of others were present. We need to prepare for a large crowd to arrive soon.”
Lia touched his sleeve. “How are you, Val?”
She was the more intuitive of the two, so he wasn’t surprised by her question.
“I am still in a bit of shock,” he admitted. “Things will change quickly now. I know that I have much to learn.”
He mentally berated himself because he could have been more prepared. As Marquess of Claibourne, he’d held a small estate of his own. Because of his father’s encouragement, however, he had merely hired a competent steward and let the estate manager deal with all matters. Instead of spending more time at that country estate, preparing himself for the eventual day he would become the duke, he had enjoyed his time in town, carousing as most young men of his social standing did. Regret filled him now for being so shallow.
Lia squeezed his arm. “You will make for a wonderful duke, Val,” she assured him.
“You are very smart—and very stubborn,” Tia teased. “You will learn what you need to and then act accordingly.”
“Where is Mama?” he asked.
“In the drawing room,” Tia told him. “With Aunt Agnes. I am so glad she returned from town with us.”
Val had always liked his aunt Agnes. She had married one of his father’s cousins and had been widowed many years ago by her husband’s early death in a carriage accident. It had also claimed the life of her second son. Lucius had been only eight years of age. The earldom had gone to Aunt Agnes’ older boy. Hadrian was ten when he came into his title. He had learned that Hadrian now went by Tray, being the Earl of Traywick. Val couldn’t blame his cousin. Hadrian wasn’t a modern name. In fact, none of the cousins had fashionable names. All ten of them had been named after Roman and Byzantine emperors and empresses since his father, Aunt Charlotte, and their cousin, his uncle George, had all been fascinated by history. Several of the cousins, including Val himself, went by more diminutive forms of their pompous names.
He noticed Quigby hovering in the foyer and told the butler, “Tell Cook and Mrs. Quigby to get ready. The hordes will descend upon us soon.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Quigby said, making a quick exit.
“Oh, dear,” Lia fretted. “I suppose we are to call you Millbrooke now.”
He touched her cheek. “Only when others are around. I will always be Val to my sisters.”
“I am glad of that,” Tia declared. “I know it defies convention, but I do not think I could ever call you Millbrooke, Val. Millbrooke is Papa.” She frowned. “You are nothing like him.”
He caught her hand and squeezed her fingers. “I hope to be a good duke. Not that our father wasn’t, but I wish to be my own man and cut my own path.”
“You will need to wed now,” Lia said, ever practical. “Perhaps you should return to town and attend the Season. I heard Mama and Aunt Agnes discussing it. They said that men are not bound by the same constraints of mourning as are women.”
“Hah!” Tia said. “I am usually the one eavesdropping and not you, Lia.” She looked to him. “Is that true? Will you leave and go to town without us?”
“No,” he assured them. “I have far too much to learn and do to go gallivanting about at balls and Venetian breakfasts. Besides, the Season is the same each year. I have attended it before and will not miss it. Millvale and my other properties and investments will keep me busy.”
“Until next year’s Season,” Lia said. “Then you must go and find a bride on the Marriage Mart, Val.”
“We will all three do next Season together,” he declared. “Ariadne has already conquered Polite Society. It will be time for the rest of us Worthingtons to do the same.”
He couldn’t help but think as the daughters of a duke, the twins would be in high demand. As much as he had scrutinized gentlemen seeking Ariadne’s favor, he would be twice as busy, responsible for his unwed sisters, as well as perusing the Marriage Mart for a bride for himself.
“I do want to go see Ariadne and Penelope,” Lia said. “Is it possible to visit family while we are in mourning?”
“Yes, but her loyalties now lie with Lord Aldridge. She may grieve for Father some, but most likely, she will go to the Season with the marquess. Perhaps you can visit her and meet Penelope sometime this autumn. We might even ask her to come and spend a quiet Christmas with us.”
“I like that idea,” Tia said. “You should go see Mama before everyone arrives.”
“I will do so now.”
Val made his way upstairs and entered the drawing room. He saw his mother and aunt in quiet conversation. They rose as he approached.
“Oh, Millbrooke, how did the service go?” Mama asked.
He had already tried to convince her to refer to him by his Christian name, but Mama was a stickler for protocol. She had told him he was Millbrooke now and would forever be Millbrooke.
“Everything went smoothly, Mama,” he said, kissing her cheek.
“I am glad to hear that. Mr. Clarke wasn’t too longwinded, was he? He has a tendency to wander with his words.”
“No. It was a lovely service.”
“If you will excuse me, I must go and freshen up before the other mourners arrive.”
He watched her go and then turned to his aunt. “How is she?”
“Lost,” Aunt Agnes said. “Alice’s entire world revolved around your father. I fear it will be some time before she finds her footing.”
“I cannot thank you enough for coming to Kent with us. I do not wish to impose upon you, but do you think you could stay a while? Mama is going to need you. As her closest friend, you know her the best.”
“I am glad you brought that up, Millbrooke.”
“Val,” he insisted.
She smiled, her eyes bright. “Val,” she corrected. “I was going to ask you if I might stay for an extended period. I agree that having my company will help your dear Mama.”
He took her hands in his. “You are always welcome at Millvale, Aunt. For as long as you wish.”
“I do not want to impose upon your hospitality, but if I am to be here for any length of time, I wonder if you might allow me to bring Justina and Verina here.”
“I have not seen my cousins in a good many years. Of course, feel free to have them come and stay. I believe it will be good for Lia and Tia to have their cousins’ company.”
“I will write to them and let them know. I had previously written to tell them of your father’s death.” She paused. “Would you mind if their governess accompanies them?”
“Millbrooke is a large household. I think we can find room for my cousins and their governess.”
Aunt Agnes looked relieved. “Miss Snow is a gem. She has been with us for almost five years now. It will be good for the girls to continue their studies while they are here. It would also give them—and my nieces—a chaperone, in case they wished to go riding or call in the village to have tea or do a bit of shopping. I do not know how long it might be before Alice wishes to get out and about.”
“Send the letter at once to inform them we are expecting them at Millbrooke with open arms.” He paused. “Is this Miss Snow chaperone enough to see them here, or should I send someone to accompany them?”
She thought a moment. “Miss Snow is five and twenty, the same as you, Val. Though gently bred, she has a maturity about her. I believe that Miss Snow, along with a maid, would be good enough. I will write to her separately and convey my expectations.”
“What about the cost of undertaking such a journey?” he asked.
“Since I go to town every year for the Season, I have always provided adequate funds if for some reason I might need the girls brought to me. Kent is not that much farther than London. Miss Snow has enough to see to transportation, staying overnight at inns, and the cost of meals.”
“That is good to know.” He had always thought Aunt Agnes both practical and nurturing, and he was happy to have his two cousins join them at Millvale.
Smiling, she enveloped him in an embrace. “Thank you for allowing my girls to come and be with me. It is one thing to leave them behind during the Season, but it is something else altogether to leave them alone for months while I am at Millbrooke.”
Val thought of Ariadne’s idea of bringing children to town. His sister had voiced this to Con and him. All of them had felt neglected, being left in the country each year while their parents left for town for several months. Ariadne said she wished for the Season to be not only about attending social affairs. She wanted it to be time spent with family. The ten cousins had only come together once in all these years, about a decade ago, and Ariadne was of a mind to be close to her own children and have those children be raised, in part, alongside their cousins.
He had thought it a unique idea, and he had readily gone along with it. Now, Ariadne already had her first child, and Val would be looking for a duchess who would give him heirs. Their lives were rapidly changing, but he agreed with Ariadne that family was of utmost importance. He would enjoy spending time with his children. Having watched how little women were valued in Polite Society, he wanted more for his own girls.
The first mourners arrived. Soon, the drawing room was filled with people he had not seen in years. It still seemed odd to hear everyone address him as Your Grace. His carefree bachelor days were at an end. It was time to become a responsible duke and take up the mantle as head of the Worthington family.
Val only wished he had a better grasp on his duties and finances. When their guests left in a few hours, he would write to his father’s solicitor. He wanted a clear picture of where he stood. If he must wed for a dowry—or if he might have the chance to wed for love. He had not been raised in a household where his parents loved one another. Marrying for love was almost unheard of in the ton, but his sister had done that very thing. She and Julian were madly in love, and seeing their happiness made him want the same for himself. Of course, being a duke, every unwed woman in Polite Society would set her cap for him. He would need to fight off the eager mamas thrusting their daughters into his path.
Val hoped his solicitor—and even banker—would have good news for him. He would rather wed a woman of his own choice than be forced to go after the largest dowry available.
He would make his plans on the morrow—and then begin this new chapter in his life.
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