The Duke’s Guide to Winning a Lady: A Regency Historical Romance

Book 7: The Strongs of Shadowcrest

by Alexa Aston

Genres: Historical Romance; Regency Romance; Regency romance; duke; strong heroines; 1800s; Regency Historical Romance; Alexa Aston; The Strongs of Shadowcrest

Synopsis

An independent woman making her come-out . . . A widowed duke seeking a second marriage . . . A love match that is meant to be . . .

Malcolm Ware, the widowed Duke of Waterbury, accepted a marriage of convenience the first time around, which caused him much regret. He attends the Season with his sister Ada, who is making her debut into Polite Society, hoping he will find a lady who can be an acceptable duchess and not bore him to tears. Always the best at everything he’s attempted and not used to ever hearing no, Malcolm is stunned when Ada’s new friend blithely ignores him.

Lady Euphemia Strong comes from a family known for making love matches. The trouble is, Effie doesn’t want to wed at all and is only making her come-out to please her mother. She hopes to make a friend or two during her Season but when it ends, she plans to return to Shadowcrest, her home in Kent, and revert to wearing breeches and tending to her animals, happily unwed.

At first, she looks upon Lady Ada’s brother as a silent, brooding, pesky chaperone—but then she becomes aware of him as a man. Effie falls in love with the handsome duke but knows the life of a duchess is not one meant for her. When she discovers Waterbury has consulted the men in her family—who have drawn up a list of guidelines for the duke to use to win Effie’s heart—she is mortified and appalled.

Will Malcolm convince Effie that his love knows no bounds and he accepts her as the tomboy she is, or will the final love match in the Strong family fall flat as these two go their separate ways?

*Each book in The Strongs of Shadowcrest is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order and read in Kindle Unlimited!


The Strongs of Shadowcrest
Book #1: The Duke’s Unexpected Love
Book #2: The Perks of Loving a Viscount
Book #3: Falling for the Marquess
Book #4: The Captain and the Duchess
Book #5: Courtship at Shadowcrest (Regency Duet – includes Tempted by the Earl and The Viscount’s Heart)
Book #6: The Marquess’ Quest for Love
Book #7: The Duke’s Guide to Winning a Lady

 

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Release date: October 18, 2024

Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

Print pages: 264

Sample

PROLOGUE

Waterside, Kent—June 1810

 

Malcolm Ware, Duke of Waterbury, rose, not having gotten much sleep, thanks to his wife’s caterwauling while having her babe. He hadn’t realized it took so long to produce a child. Mama had Ada while he was away at school, or else he might have had an idea about the length of the birth process.

He rang for his valet, and Barker appeared with hot water, shaving Malcolm and helping him to dress. As he opened his door to go down to breakfast, he paused in the corridor and listened a moment.

Silence.

Perhaps Imogen had finally had the babe. Malcolm hoped it was a boy because he wanted to get his heir and spare off his wife as quickly as possible. His father had not even wed until his mid-thirties, and Malcolm had wondered if his father’s advanced age had anything to do with the trouble Mama had birthing children. He had come along quickly enough after their marriage, but a decade stood between him and Ada, his younger sister. That was why he had wed Imogen as early as he had. The sooner he could get sons from her, the better.

The door opened to the duchess’ rooms, and a woman stepped out. For a moment, before she closed the door, he caught sight of Imogen in her bed, the sheets tangled and bloody. Malcolm recoiled seeing the glimpse of his exhausted wife.

“Ah, Your Grace,” said the woman, stepping toward him, tears swimming in her eyes. “I am Her Grace’s midwife.”

“How is her labor progressing?” he asked, frightened to hear the answer.

Wearily, the woman shook her head. “Not well, I am afraid. The poor thing has screamed and cried herself hoarse—and still the babe has not come.” The midwife paused. “It is because it is a breech birth, Your Grace.”

She looked at him as if he was supposed to know what she meant. “Does that make it . . . difficult?”

“Almost impossible,” the midwife admitted. “You see, a babe is meant to come out head-first. Most all of them turn in the womb when it is time, and that is how they exit the birth canal. Your child . . . well, its feet are now first.”

Tears began to flow down her cheeks. “One foot has appeared. The babe is stuck. I did my best to turn it before that happened. That is why Her Grace was in so much pain.”

“What are you saying?” Malcolm asked, cold fear pooling in his belly.

“I cannot push the babe back, Your Grace,” the woman explained wearily. “Most likely, the babe has already suffocated.” She shook her head sadly. “And Her Grace will soon be gone. I came to look for you. So that you might tell her goodbye.”

He heard the words and yet could make no sense of them.

“She is only turned nine and ten,” he said, as if her youth protected her from such things.

“I am sorry, Your Grace. Please. Go to her. Offer what comfort you can,” begged the woman.

Though it was the last thing Malcolm wanted to do, he nodded in agreement, following the midwife as she returned to the door and opened it.

Malcolm eased inside, treading lightly as he moved toward the bed. Imogen looked completely worn out, so small and frail. Her hair was damp with sweat and matted terribly. A sour smell lingered in the air. For the moment, her eyes were closed, and he looked at her as if looking at a stranger. That’s how he truly saw her.

Imogen had made her come-out last Season, when he had decided it was time to take a bride. She was quiet, elegant, and incredibly boring. His duchess was also thick as two short planks, having no conversation. She was like a pretty flower, opening to her peak at the Season, and then withering and dying once they had wed. Malcolm had avoided her as much as possible after the first month of marriage because he had gotten her with child. Imogen had been sick the entire time, vomiting with great regularity, keeping mostly to her rooms.

He had spoken to the village doctor about it, learning that while most women experienced some degree of nausea, it usually subsided after a few months. In rare cases, a woman might be ill throughout the time of her increasing.

That had been Imogen.

Looking at her, so tiny and exhausted, he could not recall the last time they had even spoken. And now, they never would after the conversation they would now hold.

She must have sensed his presence because she opened her eyes. Pity moved him, and Malcolm removed his handkerchief, dabbing the tears from her pale cheeks.

“How are you?” he asked, immediately wishing he could withdraw the question.

“Not well, Your Grace,” she responded, pain in her eyes. “I am sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Imogen,” he said softly, taking her hand for the first time in months. Had he even held it any time after their marriage ceremony?

He couldn’t recall doing so—and guilt filled him.

Brushing her hair from her brow, he forced a smile. “Trust in your midwife. You will be fine.”

“You think so?” she asked hopefully.

Malcolm hadn’t the heart to tell her the truth. “Of course, my lady. Close your eyes now and get some rest. Your babe will be here soon enough.”

His duchess did as directed, having faith in him.

Turning to the midwife, he asked her a silent question, wanting to know how much longer his young wife had. No words passed between them as she shrugged.

He could do nothing further and decided to leave the room. As he did, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing the midwife had raised the sheet covering Imogen’s body. A tiny foot protruded from her body.

His child’s foot . . .

Yet Malcolm felt no connection to it or the mother. He blamed his father for that. The previous duke had been cold and distant, rarely engaging with his family. Once, when Malcolm had been feeling especially brave, he asked his father why the duke never bothered talking to him. His father had seemed stumped by the question and had impatiently flicked his wrist, indicating for his son to leave with receiving an answer.

He went downstairs, forcing one foot in front of the other, knowing he had no appetite. It would be important to prepare his family for the events which would soon come.

Mama and Ada were already at breakfast. Both looked up expectantly. Seeing his face, his mother’s mouth tightened. His sister bit her lip, looking distressed.

Looking to Calley, Malcolm said, “Clear the room.”

The butler did not have to utter a word as the footmen on duty quickly exited. Calley followed them out, shooting a sympathetic look at Malcolm before closing the door.

Taking a seat, he said, “Imogen and the babe will not make it. The midwife said the babe is breech.”

Mama sucked in a quick breath. “Oh, no!”

“That is bad?” his sister asked. “They will die?”

“Yes.”

“But surely she can—”

“No,” he replied, cutting Ada off. “There is nothing to be done. Most likely, the babe has already died. That is what Imogen is doing now.”

Ada began weeping softly. She pulled her napkin from her lap and buried her face in it.

Mama’s gaze met his. “This is my fault.”

He frowned. “How so?”

“She was too small for birthing babes,” Mama said dismissively. “I let my head be turned by her beauty and family’s name. The next time we will—”

“The next time?” he asked, his tone low and deadly. “My first wife has yet to expire, and you are already planning for a new one to take her place?”

Mama glared daggers at him. “It is not as if you are attached to the girl, Waterbury. I cannot recall the last time I have even seen the two of you together. Yes, she was beautiful but lacked for conversation. You need someone more lively. I will find you a better bride next Season.”

Malcolm couldn’t begin to think of attending the whirl of social events. He had been grateful of his babe’s upcoming birth conflicting with the Season, giving him an excuse to remain in the country.

“I will find my own bride, Mama. In my own time,” he said, his tone brokering no questions. “Make yourself useful and plan Imogen’s funeral.”

Ada burst into tears. “I never thought you cruel, Waterbury, but that is a horrible thing to say.”

“Life is not always easy,” he told his sister. “Death is a part of it.”

He pushed to his feet and exited the breakfast room, finding the footmen waiting outside. He gestured for them to return to their posts, as Calley approached him.

“Your Grace, I just received word that Her Grace passed while delivering her child,” the butler said solemnly. “The babe is also gone.”

“Thank you,” he said brusquely. “Send for the clergyman. He can meet with the dowager duchess and discuss the service to be held.”

“I shall have the staff wear mourning bands,” Calley said.

Malcolm recalled the black bands worn about the servants’ upper arms after the death of his father.

“Yes, see to it. Inform Cook that mourners will be returning to Waterside after the burial. She will know what to do.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He walked woodenly to his study, locking himself in. Seating himself behind the desk, he wondered what was wrong with him. Surely, this feeling of detachment was wrong. He had just lost his wife and child.

And felt nothing.

He cursed softly. His father had been an unfeeling man, remote, withdrawn from his family, even aloof with his friends. Malcolm was repeating those same mistakes. He had wed Imogen because his mother had told him she would make for an excellent duchess with her looks and breeding. Instead, he had gotten her with child and Imogen had retreated even further within herself as she spent the majority of her time in the duchess’ rooms. Malcolm had gone days—even weeks—without thinking of her or remembering that he was married.

Now, he was a widower at six and twenty.

He knew he would shed no tears for his wife and child. It struck him he did not know what gender the babe had been. He sat for hours, his thoughts drifting, knowing he was unhappy and yet not having a clue what might make him so.

When he finally emerged, Calley informed him that his mother had asked to see him. He found Mama in her sitting room, as dry-eyed as he was.

“Sit, Waterbury,” she said, so he did so.

“I have met with the clergyman and Cook. The service for Her Grace will be held tomorrow afternoon, with mourners being allowed to call upon us after the burial.”

“Thank you for handling the matter,” he told her.

She sniffed. “It was the least I could do. I know her death has not truly affected you, but it has your sister. She spent hours each day with Her Grace. Reading to her. Talking. Doing her hair.”

“I was not aware of that,” he admitted.

She studied him a moment. Malcolm refused to flinch under her scrutiny.

“You were not aware of a great many things regarding your wife,” Mama said bluntly. “Not that it would have prevented her tragic death and that of her child. In that regard, you remind me of your father.”

“I am not Father,” he quickly protested, ignoring the truth.

“Not yet. But you are growing wintry and distant as he was. Oh, I am not saying you must make a love match the next time around, but it would not hurt to take some interest in your next wife, Waterbury.”

“That will be a while,” he told her. “But I am not like him.”

Yet Malcolm knew his denial rang hollow, like the Apostle Peter denying the Christ three times before the cock crowed.

Her mouth trembled. “I hope that is not the case. While I always knew a typical ton marriage meant a couple usually going their own ways, your father took it to the extreme. Each time I lost a child, I thought perhaps this would be the time he offered comfort to me.” She paused. “He never did.”

“Each time?” Malcolm asked. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head, impatience in her tone as she said, “You are oblivious to anything that does not revolve around you, Waterbury. In that respect, you are exactly like him. Surely, you do not believe that when Ada arrived, it was the first time I had been with child since you?”

“Actually, I did,” he said. “How would I know differently?”

Her mouth thinned. “I suppose you are right. Suffice it to say there were several babes. None of them survived. Some, I lost after only a few months. Twice, I gave birth to stillborn ones.”

“I . . . never knew,” he said, feeling terrible.

“I tried my bloody best to give that man another son,” Mama said bitterly. “Over and over, I allowed him to come to my bed. To touch me. To give me hope when he planted his seed. And time and again, I was sorely disappointed.” She swallowed. “After Ada came, the doctor said there could be no more attempts.”

Malcolm took her hand. “I wish I had known, Mama. That must have been lonely for you.”

“As lonely as it was for that poor girl you wed,” she snapped, yanking her hand from his. “She was as abandoned as I was. I am sorry she did not challenge you enough, Waterbury. Try harder with the next one. At least share tea with her. Or dinner. Attempt to see her some each day. It is not much to ask.”

Guilt weighed heavily in him now. He had spent far too little time with Imogen. No wonder he felt so disconnected to her death and that of their child’s. Their child. A babe which the two of them had created. He had forgotten about both mother and child for most of the time Imogen had lived at Waterside.

He could not do the same the next time around.

Malcolm vowed to be a better man—a better husband—when he finally did decide to take another wife.

“Excuse me,” he said, leaving his mother and heading to the duchess’ rooms.

The midwife was long gone. The bloody sheets, as well. The bed had been made up with fresh linens. A lone maid was tidying the place.

“Where is Her Grace and the babe?” he asked.

The maid looked at him nervously. “We washed them and dressed them, Your Grace. They are in the library now. Mr. Calley had them taken there.”

“Thank you.”

He passed through the hallways, heading straight for the library before he lost the courage to do so. Opening the door, he saw a footman standing nearby, while his sister sat next to a long table in the center of the room. Imogen was laid out on the table.

“Wait outside,” he ordered the footman, who exited, closing the door behind him.

Crossing the room, he placed a hand on Ada’s shoulder. “You are sitting vigil?”

She nodded. “I was too young to do so when Papa passed. It is the least I can do for Imogen.”

“Mama tells me you spent quite a bit of time with the duchess.”

“I did. She was not very bright, Waterbury, but she was sweet.” Ada’s lips trembled. “She was also frightened about giving birth. Since her mother died when Imogen was twelve, she had known nothing about her wedding night or how a babe was made or born.”

Ada brushed tears from her cheeks with her fingers. “She was afraid of you. She said you hurt her that first time you came to her.”

Regret filled him. “I did not know she had no knowledge, Ada. Yes, the first time a man and woman come together, it does hurt the woman. Not for long and only the one time, but I wish I had known. I tried to be as gentle as possible with her.”

His sister nodded. “She said you did. That you talked to her and tried to help her relax. But she did not like what you did to her, Waterbury. It makes me afraid of what is to come when I wed.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms about her. “You are but ten and six, Ada. You have a couple of more years before you make your come-out. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

Gently, he stroked her hair as she wept.

“Will Mama tell me more about what happens?” she asked.

“If she does not, then I shall tell you what you need to know myself.”

“Thank you,” she said meekly.

Malcolm released her, retrieving another chair and placing it beside Ada’s.

“We will sit vigil together,” he told her.

“All night?” she asked.

“If that is what you wish.”

Ada took her seat again, while Malcolm went to view his wife and child. Imogen looked as if she slept. The babe was nestled against her, Imogen’s arm about it.

“Do you know if it was a boy or girl?” he asked.

“A girl,” she replied. “She does not have a name, though, Waterbury. And she should have one.”

“I agree.”

Malcolm leaned down and kissed the babe’s brow. He placed his hand on her head.

“You are Eunice,” he said. “That was your grandmother’s name. Your mother missed her own mother a great deal. I think calling you Eunice would have pleased her very much.”

He went to the chair and sat, taking Ada’s hand in his.

His heart might be one of stone, but he did care for his sister’s feelings. She had lost a sister-in-law and friend, and he wanted to bring comfort to her.

“Thank you, Malcolm,” she said, calling him by his given name for the first time since he had taken the title five years ago.

“You are welcome.”

The next day, he watched as the coffin was sealed and taken to the Ware crypt. He would not come and visit this wife and child of his. They were his past.

Instead, Malcolm would look to his future—and hope he could become a better duke and better man than his father.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

Shadowcrest, Kent—March 1812

 

Lady Euphemia Strong awoke, a sense of dread filling her.

Today would be her last day at Shadowcrest.

In the morning, Effie would leave Kent for town—and her come-out. She was the last of the six Strong girls to make her debut into Polite Society, and she was only doing so to please her mother. Effie had never really considered marriage. She enjoyed life in the country, wearing her breeches, and taking care of her many animals. Her cousin Caleb, who was the steward at Shadowcrest, had also taught Effie quite a bit about estate management, and she would be content remaining here forever, assisting him in the running of the estate.

She was making her come-out this spring because it was important to Mama that she do so. Her mother had given everything to her four daughters and two nieces, whom she had raised, living for them and not herself. Thank goodness, after her mother was widowed, Captain Andrews came into her life. The former sea captain—and best friend of Effie’s brother James—had swept Mama off her feet. It had been good to see her mother giddy with happiness, especially now that she had a new babe. James—or Jamie, as the family called him—had been born last September and would be the only child Mama and the captain had, thanks to her age. They lived in town for the most part because the captain helped run Neptune Shipping Lines, the business owned by Effie’s sister-in-law Sophie.

Daffodil, her cat, nudged Effie, wanting attention, and she stroked her, scratching Daffy between her ears and watching bliss fill the animal’s face. Her cat would be the only one of her pets which would accompany her to town. Daffy was her constant companion, and it would break the cat’s heart—and Effie’s—if she were left behind at Shadowcrest.

Rising, she rang for a maid, washing and dressing for the day before heading to the breakfast room. She entered, seeing James, Sophie, and Caleb. The only one missing was Aunt Matty. Her aunt had been away from Shadowcrest for a month, helping to care for Mirella and her newborn, Daniel. Aunt Matty was like a second mother to all the Strong girls, having never wed. Instead, she had remained at Shadowcrest and helped Mama in raising them.

“Good morning,” Effie greeted, being seated by a footman, who then poured her a cup of tea.

Caleb dabbed his lips with a napkin. “I must be off. Will I see you later today, Effie?”

“Of course,” she promised her cousin.

She tucked into the eggs and rasher of ham brought to her by a footman as Sophie said, “I hope you do not mind that we will not be leaving with you tomorrow. The captain is coming to talk over business with me today, however, and so he will be the one to escort you back to town.”

“It will be good to see him,” she said, happy she would spend the carriage ride to town with her stepfather. He had taken all Mama’s ducklings under his own wing and was very protective of them.

“I am certain your mother has already scheduled appointments with Madame Dumas,” Sophie continued. “She is the modiste we have all used for the Season.”

“Yes, I am familiar with her work. She has made up gowns for me the last several years when I have come to town for visits.”

“This will be different, Effie,” her sister-in-law said. “You will wear more gowns and change outfits more time in a single day than you ever have.”

She tried to hide her displeasure, but James caught her eye and started laughing.

“I know you are not happy about making this come-out, Effie. I am glad you agreed to it, though, because it will make Dinah happy. I will repeat what I have told those before you, though. If you do not fall head over heels in love with a gentleman this Season and wish to wed him, you are welcome back at Shadowcrest for as long as you like. No more Seasons required of you.”

“Thank you, James,” she replied, knowing he truly meant it.

All five of Effie’s sisters and cousins had wed in the last couple of years, with all now having children. Some of them had missed the Season because they were increasing or had just had a child. This spring would mark the first time the six of them would be in town at the same time. She felt immense pressure, knowing they would be there, cheering her on as she made her debut. Effie also knew her entire family hoped she would make the love match they all had.

Strongs were known for their love matches, something almost unheard of in Polite Society. Most marriages were strictly business arrangements between a couple, with dowries being handed over and families using marriage as an opportunity to join together for prestige.

Effie liked her life the way it was, helping Caleb on the estate and caring for the strays she brought home, as well as the injured animals she nursed back to health. Daffy had been one of those strays, severely underweight and her fur matted, but Effie had taken time and patience to bring the kitten back to good health. Now Daffy was sleek and loving. Truly, Effie did not wish for any man to be her husband, someone who would tell her what to do.

Then again, Strong women were strong—and she did not see any of her sisters or cousins being ordered about by their spouses. Instead, they were partners to these unique men.

James was the best example. As the Duke of Seaton, he had inherited Strong Shipping, the family business and rival to Neptune Shipping, which had been owned by Sophie. Not only had her sister-in-law owned the shipping empire, Sophie had also run it on her own.

When James and Sophie wed, her brother made certain in the marriage contracts to allow Sophie to maintain sole ownership of the company, something unheard of, which had shocked the ton. Their son George, who was the heir apparent to the dukedom, would not only inherit his father’s title but also Strong Shipping, while their other children—male and female—would have ownership in Neptune Shipping and run it.

“I thought you were always eager to return to town, James,” she commented, slathering blackberry jam on another toast point.

“I am fond of town simply because it is where Strong Shipping is located. When I am there, I am able to go into the office daily.”

He reached for his wife’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “But I have come to enjoy the country immensely and want George and Ida to spend as much time at Shadowcrest as possible.”

“Do you ever miss being at sea?” she asked.

Her brother grew thoughtful. “Yes and no,” he finally said. “Having spent my life at sea, working my way up from cabin boy to the captain of a ship, it was the only life I ever knew. Yes, I miss leading a crew of men and the camaraderie I experienced being on a vessel for long stretches. At the same time, I exercise my leadership in Polite Society as the Duke of Seaton and am head of the Strong family. The new friendships which I have formed with Caleb and all my brothers-in-law more than suffice. Why, I see Seth almost daily, since he is our neighbor, and you know that we visit with August, Sterling, and Silas as often as possible. Drake is still my closest friend of all, and seeing him wed to your mother warms my heart.”

James got a faraway look in his eyes. “While I enjoyed going up on deck at night and staring out into the vastness of both sea and sky, I can do the same thing here when I ride out at Shadowcrest and view all my land.”

She grinned. “I told you those riding lessons I gave you would come in handy.”

He chuckled. “You are an excellent riding instructor, Effie. Yes, it is far easier getting about the estate having become comfortable on the back of a horse. For those lessons and the patience you showed while teaching me to ride, I am grateful.”

“What do you have planned today?” Sophie asked her.

“I will be checking on all my animals a final time. One of our grooms has promised to take over for me in their care, especially that goat whose leg is broken. He is on the mend, however. The next time I see him, I hope he will be running freely about.”

“I assume Daffy will travel to town with you,” her brother said.

“I never leave Daffy,” Effie declared. “Why, not only does she accompany me anytime I journey to town, but remember that I took her to our tour of the Lake District.”

She had accompanied Aunt Matty, along with Mirella and Miss Feathers, her governess, to the Lake District a year and a half ago while Mama hosted a house party for Allegra and Lyric at Shadowcrest. Not only had her cousins found their husbands at this house party, Mirella had met Byron, the man destined to be her husband.

A moment of sadness filled her. Miss Feathers had searched for new employment with Effie ready to make her come-out. The governess had departed from Shadowcrest a week ago, headed for York and a new position with two young boys, aged five and six. It had been hard seeing Miss Feathers go since she had been such a part of Effie’s life for so many years.

“I thought I would ride over to see Pippa today,” she said, sharing what she planned to do first on this cold March day.

Of all the Strong women, Effie was closest to Pippa. They were both tomboys, and Pippa had taught Effie how to ride, hunt, shoot, swim, and fish. It had been hard to picture Pippa wed and as a mother. But now that she was, Effie could see how easily her sister had made the transition, and how comfortable she was in her role as Viscountess Hopewell and mother to Adam and Louise.

“I am glad you will go and see her and the children,” Sophie said. “And one last ride through the countryside will do you a world of good.”

“I also want to go to the nursery and play with George and hold Ida sometime today,” she said.

Sophie’s face softened at the mention of her two children. “They will be coming with us when we go to town.”

Effie knew that a majority of married couples in the ton left their children at their country estates, not seeing them for months while the Season went on. Mama had never done that, insisting all her girls come to town so she could spend time with them. Effie believed she would see just how different her family was when she made her come-out, but she was grateful the Strongs were a close, loving group. She looked upon their spouses as her own brothers and sister, as well.

She only hoped those who had wed would not urge her to do the same, because although Effie had stated she was going into this Season with an open mind, she could not see herself falling in love, much less marrying. It would be too hard to leave Shadowcrest. The odds against her finding a love match after all her siblings and cousins had were too great. She saw herself returning to the country and devoting her time to Shadowcrest and its people.

Finishing her meal, she left breakfast and headed straight for the stables. Most women would have needed to go and change into their riding habit, but Effie’s daily attire in the country consisted of a coat, shirt, and breeches. It was more comfortable dressing in such a manner with the work that she did on the estate and with her animals.

She rode to the lake which separated Shadowcrest land from that of Hopewood. The two estates had shared the lake as long as anyone could recall, and she had spent many happy hours picnicking by it, swimming in it, and rowing about in a boat, fishing. She supposed she might attend a picnic in town but knew the other activities would not be ones available for her to partake in. She laughed just thinking of asking a suitor to take her fishing in the Serpentine.

More than anything, though, was something she had not confided in anyone about. Effie worried about fitting in with the other girls who would be making their come-outs. The fact that she would have to wear gowns for several months during the Season already bothered her enough as it was. She had no idea how to behave around other young ladies.

At least she would have her sisters and cousins with her, along with Mama. With all of them being wed now and living away from Shadowcrest, she would cherish the time she had together with them this spring and summer.

She reached the Hopewood stables and handed her reins to a groom, cutting through the kitchens, as usual. She was a regular visitor to the viscount’s estate, and no one seemed to blink an eye when she did so. Cook even greeted her, calling out to her by name.

“Lady Effie, it is good to see you. When do you leave for London?”

“Tomorrow, Cook. That is why I have come to say my goodbyes to you and the others at Hopewood.”

Hearing that tickled Cook, and she laughed heartily.

Effie left the kitchens and found Mrs. Robb, the housekeeper, who told her that Lady Hopewell was in her sitting room. She went straight to it, finding her sister at her writing desk. She slipped her arms about Pippa’s neck and kissed her cheek.

“Oh, it is so good to see you, Effie,” Pippa declared, setting aside the letter she worked on. “I am glad you came for a last visit.”

She chuckled as they took a seat on the settee. “It is not as if I will not see you for months. You are coming to town for the Season.”

“You are right. We will arrive in a couple of weeks. I have already written to Madame Dumas so that she will reserve time for me to see her. I will not have nearly the number of gowns made up as you, however. Why, a girl making her come-out has the largest wardrobe of anyone at the Season.”

“You act as if you know all about the Season when you yourself did not make your come-out, Pippa. Why, this will be the first time you have attended a Season, now that I think about it.”

A dreamy expression crossed her sister’s face. “No, I did not. And I am very glad I met Seth here at Hopewood and did not have to go about all that nonsense. Oh, I know I should not voice such opinions to you since you are on the cusp of your own debut into Polite Society, but I find the idea full of nonsense. I only wish that Seth had a brother whom I could introduce you to so the two of you might fall madly in love. Then you wouldn’t have to bother with all this fuss.”

“I am counting on you to help temper the others,” Effie said. “It will be the first time all the Strong women will be together for a Season. I am most worried about Georgie and Mirella. They are the ones who have always enjoyed the company of others and talked about the many social affairs held during the Season. You know me, Pippa. I would rather be around animals than people.”

Pippa reached up and stroked Effie’s hair. “I know that, little sister. I do think, though, that both Georgie and Mirella have changed since they have become mothers and the Season is not as important to them as it once was.” She laughed. “That is because they got out of their Season what they went into it for—a husband!”

They both laughed. Effie only hoped she would not feel bored or stifled by the events she would need to attend.

“Let me go to the nursery and see Adam and Louise now. From what I gather, I will not have much time to play with children because of the large number of scheduled events.”

“You will be busy,” her sister said. “Only as busy as you wish to be, however. I suggest that you only go to the social affairs you are interested in, Effie. It is important to stay true to yourself throughout this entire process. I am certain James has already spoken to you about not worrying whether you find a love match or not.”

“He reminded me of that very thing this morning at breakfast,” she confirmed. “I know they all wish for me to find my soulmate—even you—but I just do not see that happening, Pippa.”

“My advice to you? Do not look for him. if you seek out love, you will be trying to force something to happen. If fate wishes you to find a husband this Season, it will intervene and guide you. If you finish the Season and have found no one to your taste, you have a home to return to and a loving, supportive family.”

Her sister studied her a moment. “I know you, Effie. All too well. I sense that you will merely go through the motions, and you have no intention of finding a husband.”

She flushed guilty. “Perhaps I am not quite as . . . open-minded about it as I should be. I will do my best to try and enjoy things. Hopefully, I might even like some of the activities. Thank goodness, I do enjoy dancing. Not as much as Mirella, of course, but I will not embarrass myself on the ballroom floor.”

“Go into this Season with the idea that you are going to enjoy new experiences and make new friends. Remember how Georgie and Miss Bancroft became friendly during Georgie’s come-out Season?”

“Yes, I do recall. My family has been my only friends up until this point.” She grinned. “Well, besides my animals.” Sighing, she added, “I will do my best, Pippa, to be open to whatever comes my way. The events. The people.

“Even love.”

Her sister smiled warmly. “That is all any of us will ask from you, Effie. Now, let us go up to the nursery and see Adam and Louise.”

Soon, she was playing with her niece and nephew, feeling the same pull she did when she spent time with George and Ida at Shadowcrest. Perhaps she wouldn’t make a love match as her family members had. It was possible she might find a gentleman who would be a good friend to her and still allow her to be independent, while giving her children. The more Effie was around her various nieces and nephews, the more she realized she would like children of her own.

She took her leave and rode home to Shadowcrest, ready to ride about the estate a final time with Caleb and tell her sweet animals goodbye.

That night at dinner, James and the captain kept them laughing, telling stories of their time at sea. Effie couldn’t recall the last time she had laughed so much.

The next morning, she awoke with trepidation, knowing even though she had been to town many times over the years, she would be going into the unknown, as far as the Season was concerned. She kissed the children and Sophie goodbye, and James enveloped her in a bear hug.

“We will see you in about ten days,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. “And we will stay in town the entire Season with you and escort you to all the events.”

Her eyes misted with tears. “I appreciate that, James. More than you know.”

The captain handed her into the carriage, then gave her the basket which contained Daffy and climbed in himself. They waved goodbye. George kept waving and calling out her name, which tugged at her heart.

The coach drove down the long lane and turned on to the road which would take them to town.

“Are you ready for all this bloody nonsense?” the captain asked.

Effie burst out laughing. “No. Not really. I am already uncomfortable wearing a gown and wishing I were on a horse, going with Caleb to fix a fence or talk to a tenant.”

“No matter how many times Dinah tries to explain it to me, I simply don’t understand this Season. I watched Mirella go through it last year, though, and she was happy enough, especially when it led to Byron offering for her.”

He slipped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Effie leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling safe with him beside her.

“I will not let anything happen to you, sweetheart,” he told her. “You will only go to something if you really want to. Just because an invitation comes doesn’t mean you have to attend every affair. While Mirella was a butterfly, flitting from one event to the next, I think you will be more judicious. Don’t tire yourself out by trying to do too much.”

“I appreciate hearing that, Captain. I suppose I will have to see what invitations come in and discuss them with Mama.”

“These gentlemen will pester you. They’ll come sniffing around every afternoon. Send you flowers. Smile at you and give you pretty compliments. Ignore all that, Effie. Go with your gut. You’re a smart woman with a good head on your shoulders. You have a full life. Only say yes to a proposal if you truly love the man offering for you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “And tell me which ones you wish for me to chase off.”

Effie covered his hand with hers. “Thank you for looking out for me. For taking care of Mama and all of us.”

“I may not have been there when you born or for most of your growing up, but you are my family. My daughter. I would bleed for you. Die for you,” he proclaimed gruffly.

“Well, let us hope it does not come to that, Captain,” she teased.

They changed horses at one point, and finally the great city of London came into view. Effie swallowed, calming herself. She would either find a husband she was mad enough for to wed—or she would return to Shadowcrest. This Season was as if she stood to where a road divided.

It would be up to her to make the choice of which path to follow.