The Duke's Unexpected Love

Book 1: The Strongs of Shadowcrest

by Alexa Aston

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

Synopsis

Welcome to USA Today bestselling author Alexa Aston’s new Regency world—The Strongs of Shadowcrest—her first time to spotlight the love stories of a family of siblings since her popular St. Clairs series.

A virgin widow running her own company. A man who returns home after years at sea. An oddly-matched couple—who may not be so incompatible after all . . .

James Jones recalls little of his past, only remembering being taken as a young boy and growing up on the Seven Seas. Rising from cabin boy to captain of a ship, a chance encounter with a drunken stranger leads James back to his family, where he discovers he is the heir to the dying Duke of Seaton.

Sophie Grant, daughter of a viscount, never made her come-out, thanks to her father’s bad investments, which were paid off by Josiah Grant, owner of one of the leading shipping lines in Great Britain. As part of the arrangement, the shy Sophie is given to Josiah in marriage. Her new, much older husband helps Sophie to gain confidence in herself by teaching her all about how to run his shipping empire.

James, a former captain for one of Grant’s vessels, encounters the now-widowed Sophie and feels a connection with the efficient, intelligent woman. Rebelling against his new role as a leading member of the ton, he spurns Polite Society and its expectation that he wed some titled gentleman’s bird-witted daughter—because James is increasingly drawn to the gossiped-about, independent Sophie Grant.

Will a newly-minted duke be able to win the heart of a woman who spurs the ton and has built a satisfying life for herself?

Find the answer in bestselling author Alexa Aston’s The Duke’s Unexpected Love, Book 1 of The Strongs of Shadowcrest.

* Each book in The Strongs of Shadowcrest is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order.

Series Order:
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

Release date: February 2, 2024

Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing

Print pages: 261

Sample

PROLOGUE

London—September 1792

 

James Strong finished dressing and went to the schoolroom, where he took all his meals. Nanny was already there, fussy over the stupid twins.

It used to be James she fussed over. Not anymore. Instead, all her time and attention were devoted to his two half-sisters. Even worse, he had overheard the butler inform their housekeeper that his two cousins, also babies, were coming to live here next week since their father didn’t want them.

He didn’t even think of these girls or his stepmother as being part of his family. His family had been Mama. And his brother. They had been gone four years now, and he missed her every day. She had died giving birth to his little brother, what he had heard the servants referred to as the spare.

At eight years of age, James was the heir apparent to the Duke of Seaton. His father had wanted more boys, and his duchess had tried to give them to her husband. The problem was that she couldn’t.

He only knew the stories from listening to their servants gossip. That there had been many attempts on the duchess’ part to have another babe. How she had lost too many to count—both before and after James’ birth—and how the last one had been what Cook called stillborn. From what he could understand, it meant that the babe had been born but never took a breath.

Having that babe had cost Mama her life.

He had sneaked into the parlor downstairs after Nanny had put him to bed, and gone to see Mama and the little boy who would have been his younger brother. Mama’s appearance had frightened him, and James had hurried away, not wanting to remember her looking so awful. But the babe looked absolutely perfect, as if he were only sleeping. He’d had fair hair and lips that were shaped like a bow. Only when James had touched his brother’s cheek and found it ice-cold did he realize the babe was truly dead. He had hurried upstairs to his bed, but he had told himself he would never forget the little boy who would have been both brother and friend to him.

His mother had been James’ entire world. It troubled him because it was getting harder to remember what Mama looked like. She had been gone half his life now, and James could only see fleeting images of her in his mind. Still, he could recall the love she blanketed him with. Mama had read to him and played with him.

And then she was gone.

His father had remarried, seeking more sons from a new woman. James thought it was funny that the new duchess had given birth to two girls instead of a boy. She was going to have another baby in two months. Out of spite, he hoped it would also be a girl.

He sat at the table, where his breakfast awaited him, glancing at the two chairs in which Philippa and Georgina sat. Twins ran in the Strong family. His father was a twin to Uncle Adolphus, who had two sons, Theodore and Caleb. It was his uncle’s twin daughters, Allegra and Lyric, who would be coming to live with them permanently soon, meaning James would get even less attention than he now did. His cousins had spent this first year of their life mostly in this house, and James knew his uncle didn’t like girls. The new duchess seemed to love babies, though, and he had heard her say to their housekeeper that it was a good thing the twins would be left in her care from now on.

His half-sisters were a year old now, and though they favored each other, James could easily tell them apart. Mostly because they acted so distinctly from one another. Eating was a huge way in which the girls differed.

He looked as Georgie delicately picked up each morsel of food on the tray before her, holding it up and studying it from every angle before she thoughtfully put it into her mouth to chew. On the other hand, Pippa joyfully played with her food and then greedily downed each bite after doing so.

James wanted to like his half-sisters and secretly suspected he did, but he would never consider them family. Nor would he ever call the new duchess Mama, no matter how many times she asked him to do so.

He ate his porridge and ham, daydreaming as he did so. He would be leaving for school in a few days’ time and was eager to go. His tutor, Mr. Timmons, had told him all about school. What his classes would be like. How he would live in a dormitory. When meals were served and what they consisted of. James couldn’t wait to begin his new life.

Even if it did mean he would have to see Cousin Theodore.

Movement caught his eye, and he saw his father and the duchess enter the schoolroom. It irked James that they did so. He could never recall a time when his Papa had come to the nursery or visited at mealtime to see him, though Mama had visited him in both places frequently. This new wife must encourage the practice, though, and it made James dislike her even more than he already did.

“Good morning, my angels,” the duchess declared. She glanced to him. “And good morning to you, as well, James.”

Not wanting to be berated by his father for ignoring her, James inclined his head and neutrally said, “Good morning, Your Grace.”

She frowned slightly but did not correct him. He had told her that he only had one mother and that she wasn’t it. He had seen how his words stung by the pain reflected in her eyes, but James didn’t care. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone.

The duchess began talking to her daughters in a sing-song voice as the duke looked fondly upon the pair. His father had yet to acknowledge James’ presence in the schoolroom, so he returned to his food, finishing the final bits of his porridge.

Then, surprising him, his father came and stood next to James.

Scrambling to his feet, he said, “Good morning, Papa. It is good to see you.”

“Mr. Timmons tells me that you will be leaving for school early next week, James.”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir. I am eager to go and learn.”

Going away to school meant not having to be around the twins and his stepmother. James also loved learning, and he couldn’t wait to see what his classes might be like.

The only cloud on that horizon was cast by Cousin Theodore. Teddy, as Uncle Adolphus called his boy, was a year older than James and bullied his younger cousin unmercifully. Although they would attend the same school, he hoped he wouldn’t see Teddy often and that he could make friends on his own with boys in his own class.

“Mr. Timmons thinks it might be good for you to go and see the office and warehouse, before you go,” the duke continued.

He glowed with enthusiasm, glad his tutor had brought up the matter with Papa and thrilled that it might actually come to pass. James had never been to the place near the river where the office and warehouse were located. All he knew was that they received quite a bit of income from their ships, which traded around the world, and that Papa was loath to even mention the shipping line.

“Yes, Father, I would enjoy that very much. Mr. Timmons and I have been working quite a bit on geography lately. He went and retrieved manifests from the company offices, and we have been tracking various ships around the world. I have learned what cargo they deliver and pick up in exchange. Why, I’ve even learned—”

“That is all well and good, James,” his father said, cutting him off. “You will go with your tutor then today and see the premises.”

The duke’s lips pursed in displeasure. “It is not a place you will frequent, however. The Strong family are not tradesmen. The shipping line is merely one avenue of revenue for us which my grandfather began. Why he placed our family name on it is a mystery. I warn you now, James—do not mention it to your schoolmates. We Strongs might profit from it, but it is not something to ever mention to anyone outside our family.”

Papa paused. “You will also need to begin learning about Stonecrest and my other estates since you will one day be the Duke of Seaton.”

Emboldened, James asked, “Will you teach me about Stonecrest and the tenants, Father? Or take me to these other estates? I have never visited any of them before.”

The duke frowned deeply. “That is for others to do,” he said dismissively. “I suppose the next time we are at Shadowcrest you can meet with the steward there. For now, go see Mr. Timmons. He is in the drawing room waiting for you.”

He turned away from his son, and disappointment flooded James. He should have known better. His father never seemed to want to spend any time with him.

The duke ruffled Philippa’s hair, smiling indulgently at her. He did the same to Georgina and then turned to his wife.

“Come. We have spent long enough here. You need to get off your feet.”

The couple exited the room, and James looked to Nanny. “May I please be excused? I have finished my breakfast. Mr. Timmons and I are going to the waterfront today.”

He refused to let his Father dampen the enthusiasm he felt regarding this special outing.

“Very well, my lord,” Nanny said.

James raced down the stairs to the drawing room, where Mr. Timmons stood beside a large globe.

Hurrying toward the tutor, he said, “I hear we are taking a trip to the waterfront today.”

“Yes, my lord. I discussed this with His Grace. I think it is important that you begin to understand more about your place in the world and the responsibilities you will hold one day when you claim your title.”

The tutor spun the globe and then smiled. “Shall we go? His Grace suggested we walk to the offices in order to get our exercise. It is a long way, so we’d best get started.”

James accompanied his tutor as they set out for an area of London they had never visited. He and Mr. Timmons walked the city every day when they were in town for the Season. His family arrived in town each spring and stayed through the summer, with his father and the duchess going to many social events. While James enjoyed spending time at Shadowcrest, the home ducal estate in Kent, he truly loved the hustle and bustle of the streets of London.

As they walked, Mr. Timmons pointed out various things to him. James had found he had an interest in architecture, and he and the tutor enjoyed studying various structures they passed.

“I believe when you leave for school next week that I will be returning to Shadowcrest, this time to assume the living,” Mr. Timmons informed him.

“Father has agreed?”

His tutor nodded. “His Grace knows that I have been interested in the living there for a good while now. Assuming it will allow me to continue my studies independently, while also helping others in the neighborhood.” Smiling, Mr. Timmons added, “I had to find something to do after you left for school.”

“That means I will always get to see you when I come home on holiday.”

“You will indeed, my lord. We will be able to continue our conversations on those occasions. In fact, you can share with me all that you have learned at school, and I will do the same with you. I will be free to pursue whatever I wish to learn in my post as vicar. As you, I am fond of architecture, but my true love is history and literature.”

Mr. Timmons smiled mischievously. “Who knows? I may even try my hand at writing a novel.”

“That would be wonderful, sir,” declared James. “You are so smart and know so much. Write it—and I will be your first reader.”

The tutor laughed. “That sounds like an excellent plan, Lord James.”

James could smell the water the closer they came to the Thames. At one point, Mr. Timmons cautioned him, saying, “Stay close, my lord. Unfortunately, we are in an area of town where many despicable characters lurk. We wouldn’t want anything happening to you, would we?”

He stuck close to Mr. Timmons’ side, looking at his surroundings carefully and seeing the seediness surrounding them. People were dressed meanly and had a wariness about them he wasn’t used to seeing. Some of them even gave him looks which frightened him.

They came upon a large building, and Mr. Timmons said, “This is the warehouse and offices for Strong Shipping. As you can see, it is close to the waterfront. The offices are on the top floor of the building. We shall visit them first.”

As they entered the warehouse, his tutor added, “You will most likely not come here often, my lord. It is a peculiarity of the ton. They don’t wish to have others think they dirty their hands in making money. That is why they look down at those in trade. You will own all this one day, of course, and that is why I wanted you to be able to see the operation and learn something about it. Perhaps you can visit once a year. I think it would be a good idea to make your presence known to the staff who manage things and the workers in the warehouse. After all, you are responsible for their livelihood, the same as you will be for the tenants at Shadowcrest and the other properties owned by the Duke of Seaton.”

As they walked through the warehouse, James saw the vast stacks of crates, knowing what was contained in many of them because of his studies with Mr. Timmons. Everyone eyed him with curiosity, and he nodded in a friendly fashion to those whom they passed.

Mr. Timmons led them up a set of stairs, and they entered the shipping offices which bore his family’s surname. He met a clerk who took them to the office of Mr. Stanley, who ushered them inside.

“Welcome, my lord, Mr. Timmons. It is good to finally meet you, Lord James.”

“It is nice to meet you, Mr. Stanley. Thank you for running our family’s business.”

Mr. Stanley laughed heartily. “Don’t let His Grace catch you mentioning business and the Strong name in the same sentence, my lord. His Grace may earn many pounds from the fleet of ships he owns and the cargo which is traded, but he would never acknowledge that to others in Polite Society.”

James thought that ridiculous and said, “When I am the Duke of Seaton, I will be proud to be the owner of Strong Shipping, Mr. Stanley.”

The manager roared with laughter. “You can do things your own way when you become a duke,” he told James. “Dukes are a law unto themselves, the pinnacle of members of the ton. Come, let me show you around.”

Mr. Stanley gave them a tour of the offices, and James met the rest of the staff. He asked numerous questions about what they did, surprising everyone.

“Perhaps you will be more hands on than the previous Dukes of Seaton have been,” Mr. Stanley said appreciatively. “Shall we go downstairs to the warehouse now?”

They toured the entire warehouse, with Mr. Stanley telling them what goods had been brought in on recently arrived ships.

“The Zephyr came in only yesterday. We are still unloading it today. Would you like to walk to the harbor and see it?”

James replied with unbridled enthusiasm. “Yes, Mr. Stanley.”

The trio went to the wharf, and for the first time, he saw a grand ship in person. A sense of pride filled him, knowing it was but one of the ships in the fleet owned by his family. He saw workers unloading the ship’s cargo and became curious.

“Might we go on board?” he asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Mr. Stanley said, and the three of them boarded Zephyr.

For the next hour, James listened intently, learning about various parts of a ship and seeing where the cargo was stored. He also visited briefly with the captain of Zephyr and learned of the countries the ship had called at before making its way back to England, as well as talking with various crew members. What he learned was fascinating, making him even more determined to continue his visits to Strong Shipping.

Mr. Stanley escorted them back to the offices, and James asked if he might be put to work, helping the dockworkers who were bringing in crates to the warehouse, where a supervisor directed where the crates should go and be unpacked. He’d learned each crate was checked against a list to make certain everything was received.

“I am not certain His Grace would wish you to roll up your sleeves and do manual labor, my lord,” cautioned Mr. Timmons.

“Oh, give the boy a chance to dirty his hands a bit,” encouraged Mr. Stanley. “He’s a boy. A little dirt won’t hurt him.” Smiling at James, the manager added, “It might be good for the little lord to see how hard his workers labor on behalf of the Strong family.”

“I suppose,” Mr. Timmons said reluctantly.

“I will leave you in the hands of our warehouse supervisor,” Mr. Stanley declared. “But first, I would suggest you remove your coat and waistcoat, my lord. Your cravat, too. That way they won’t be dirtied and your housekeeper won’t admonish you or Mr. Timmons too much.”

“Yes, sir!” cried James, ready to join the others.

He stripped off his coat and waistcoat, folding them neatly and giving them to Mr. Timmons to look after.

“I think I’ll keep my cravat, though,” he told the pair, removing and folding it before slipping it into his pocket. “I might need it to wipe away the sweat because it is hot in the warehouse.” He then rolled up his sleeves, wanting to look like the other workers they had seen both in the warehouse and on the docks.

Mr. Stanley found that quite amusing. “I’ll take Lord James downstairs, Mr. Timmons.”

The manager left James in the care of the warehouse’s supervisor, who put James straight to work, removing items from a crate and having him call each one out so it could be logged.

After two hours at that task, he asked if he could try something else, mopping his brow with the cravat and knowing Nanny would have a fit when she saw how dirty it—and James—had gotten. The thought of the servant up in arms had him grinning, though.

“You can take this list to the first mate on Zephyr,” the supervisor said. “You remember your way to the ship?”

Nodding, he replied, “Yes. It’s but two blocks from here.”

“There and back, my lord. No stopping. And the first mate will also give you a list in return. Bring it safely back here.”

“Aye-aye,” James cried, imitating the sailors he had heard on board the ship earlier during his visit to it.

He left the warehouse and ran the entire way, feeling free and alive. Boarding Zephyr, he asked the first sailor he saw where the first mate was, and the sailor pointed to the hold. James descended the rope ladder and hurried toward the ship’s second-in-command, whom he’d met earlier, waiting patiently until the man had finished giving orders to a group of sailors.

“I am to give this to you,” he said proudly, presenting the list.

The first mate frowned at him a moment—and then smiled. “Why, I didn’t recognize you at first, my lord.”

James pushed back his hair, damp with sweat. “I have been helping in the warehouse. I am learning all about Strong Shipping today.”

“Good for you, lad. I mean, my lord,” the first mate corrected. He reached for some papers sitting atop a barrel. “These are to go back with you, my lord.”

“Aye-aye!” James said, causing the first mate to howl with laughter.

He tucked the papers inside his shirt, climbing the rope ladder once more until he reached the ship’s deck. He scampered down the wide gangplank and paused a moment, turning in circles and taking everything in.

This day had been the best of his life.

James moved away from the ship and turned down a street, walking two blocks, but not reaching his destination. Suddenly, things didn’t look familiar at all, and he realized he must have made an incorrect turn and gone down the wrong street. He doubled back to get his bearings, but so many people and carts were in the streets, spinning him around, that it further confused him. He knew if he could simply make his way back to Zephyr, he could find his bearings again and return to the warehouse from his errand.

He fought the panic stirring within him as he moved toward what he hoped was the river. A rider on a horse whizzed by him, causing him to stumble and fall facedown into a mud puddle.

“Oh, no!” he cried, pushing himself to his feet, removing the sheaf of papers and finding them soaked and muddy. He would be in trouble now. He told himself he would accept whatever punishment would occur because of his carelessness, but that didn’t stop the tears from stinging his eyes and pouring down his cheeks.

As he started up again, suddenly a strong hand gripped his shoulder, turning him.

A man with a patch over his eye and missing a few teeth narrowed his one eye, studying James as he wriggled, trying to free himself.

“You’ll do.”

Before James knew what was happening, the stranger grabbed hold of him, tossing James over his shoulder. Suddenly, the world was upside down as he bumped against the stranger’s back.

“Put me down, I say,” he shouted through his tears.

The man ignored him, striding down the street now at a rapid pace.

James began pummeling the stranger’s back. “Let go!” he insisted. “My father will—”

“Will what?” the man demanded, stopping and slamming James to the ground.

The breath rushed from him, and he struggled to breathe. Before he could catch his breath, the man kicked James in the side so hard that he saw stars.

“You’re a scrawny little thing,” the man said. “No father would want a boy like you. Besides, we’re desperate. We’re about to pull away from shore and need a cabin boy and lookout. I was told to find one—and you’re it.”

Finally, air rushed into James’ lungs, but before he could protest, the man picked him up again, this time by the waist, carrying James under his arm. He swung his fists helplessly, trying to kick but his side was so bruised from the blow the man had struck that it pained him to do so.

He watched as the ground beneath him changed into a gangplank and then a ship’s deck. In horror, he realized he had been taken. He must tell this man who he was and get back to Mr. Timmons as quickly as possible.

The man took him below deck and dropped him on the ground, again knocking the breath from him.

“Stop,” he managed to get out. “You can’t take me like this.”

The sailor grinned, and James saw the holes where teeth should have been. “I just did, boy.”

Then he slammed his fist into James’ face.

The pain was white hot. Warm blood gushed from his nose. He thought it might actually be broken. More blows rained down on him, and James curled into a tight ball, trying to protect himself as best as he could.

He didn’t know how long the beating lasted, only that it finally ended after his head had been smashed to the ground. He blacked out and when he came to, the sailor loomed over him, his fist drawn back. James flinched, and the man laughed harshly, lifting him again and opening something, tossing James inside.

“This is the brig, boy. You’ll stay here until we sail.”

Almost broken, he said, “I am James. James—”

“You’re Boy now. You’ll have to earn back your name.” The sailor cackled. “This is your home, Boy. Be glad you have one. And no more blubbering like you were when I found you. You bawl like a babe, and I’ll beat you senseless. You understand?”

Tears blurring his vision, James nodded, terrified of being struck again.

“I didn’t hear you,” the man said.

“Aye-aye,” he muttered.

“Ah, you’re learning, Boy. That’s good. Maybe we’ll make a man of you after all.”

The sailor left, and James lay on the dirty floor. It hurt to breathe, and he wondered if a rib or two had been broken. Once, Teddy had punched James hard in his side, his cousin saying he hoped he had broken one of James’ ribs. His side had been sore for many days, but it hadn’t hurt like it did now, the pain blinding with each shallow breath.

He closed his eyes, willing the nightmare to go away.

When he opened them, he knew time had passed. How he knew this, he wasn’t certain, only that it had. Pushing himself upright, he winced, leaning his back against the wall.

It was then he saw someone sitting outside the cell he’d been locked in, a young man, with dark hair and a thin frame.

“Help me,” he asked, his voice thin and scared.

“We’ve already sailed, Boy,” the new sailor said. “I’m to watch over you. Help you. Your face is a mess. You’ll have bruises for a long time to come, I’m afraid.”

“He hit me over and over. In the nose.” James reached up and touched his face, which was tender. He also felt the dried blood. “He kicked me, too. I think I broke a rib.”

He winced as he touched the back of his head, where a large knot sat. He hurt everywhere, especially his head. His vision was blurry. His memory, too. He only knew someone had brought him here. Beat him viciously.

“I’ll be back,” the sailor said.

James closed his eyes again until the sailor returned. This time, he opened the cell door with a key.

“I’ve brought water to bathe your wounds,” he said. “Strips of cloth to wind about your ribs.”

“I’m so thirsty,” he managed to say, even the few words spoken tiring him. “I want to go home,” he added, his voice breaking because he could no longer remember where home was. His aching head seemed to have erased any memory of it.

The sailor gazed at him with sympathy. “This is home now, Boy.”

“I’m James,” he said stubbornly, the name rising from somewhere within him, and he clung to it.

“You will be one day. Just not today. Not for a while. Flimm has told the other sailors to call you Boy.” The man shook his head. “He’s a bad ’un, that Flimm. Most of the others are frightened of him. He’s quick-tempered and even quicker with his fists.” Smiling ruefully, he said, “Then again, you already know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t belong here.” He knew that innately though he couldn’t explain how or why.

“But you’re here now. It’s happened to many of us before you, Boy. Even me.” He paused. “I’m Drake, by the way.” He smiled. “A drake is a male duck who takes to water. I was also Boy once upon a time.”

“Flimm took you, too?”

“Aye, he and another one. But it was all right. I’d lost both my parents. I was living on the streets. Stealing what I could to eat. Living on a great ship and being a part of the crew? It’s like you’ve a whole family.”

“Is your name really Drake?” he asked quietly.

“It is now. To be honest, I don’t even remember what it was before they took me.”

Determination filled him. “I’ll never forget my name. I’m James.”

Drake chuckled. “Well, let’s get your face bathed and your ribs seen to, James. I have a feeling you won’t be Boy for long.”

He let Drake tend to him, thinking how he would make his way to the captain as soon as he could. He would tell the captain who he was, and they would have to turn the ship around and take him home.

Little did James know just how foolish that dream was.

 

 

CHAPTER 1

London—August 1809

 

Sophie Grant rose as her maid entered the bedchamber.

“Good morning, Mrs. Grant,” Libby said, setting down the breakfast tray. “I hope you had a pleasant night’s sleep.”

“I did. I hope you did, as well.”

Her maid helped Sophie dress, and then she sat in her favorite chair to drink her morning tea and eat her usual toast points. She liberally spread marmalade across the toast and bit into it, savoring that first bite, the citrus flooding her mouth.

Libby excused herself, and Sophie sipped her tea in solitude, reflecting on the upcoming business transactions for the day. Her husband owned one of the largest fleets in Great Britain.

And Sophie was a vital part of Neptune Shipping Lines.

She had come a long way from being the shy daughter of Viscount Galpin. She had not even wanted to partake in the Season when it came time to make her come-out because of her extreme shyness. When she worked up enough courage to tell her father her wishes, Papa laughed and told her she wouldn’t be able to do so even if she wished. That he had lost too much money on bad investments and gambling debts and was barely hanging on to what they had.

He proceeded to tell her he had rented out their country estate because he was too poor now to keep it up. They would be taking rooms in London because he’d also had to rent their large townhouse. Much to Sophie’s surprise, once they had settled in shabby rooms in a part of town she hadn’t even known existed, her father told her she was to wed the following day. Nervously, she had waited in the parlor to meet her intended, a man called Josiah Grant.

When Grant had entered the room, Sophie had thought some mistake had been made because he looked old enough to be her grandfather. Her father had greeted Mr. Grant warmly, however, and after a few minutes, Papa had excused himself so that the two of them could speak alone for the first time.

Josiah had apologized to Sophie, telling her he knew he wasn’t the groom she had anticipated and that he was assuming a large portion of her father’s debt, when Lord Galpin should actually be bestowing Sophie’s dowry in the marriage settlements. No dowry was left, however. Sophie knew she had no choice in the matter. Mr. Grant seemed kind, however, and she was ready to escape her father’s household, wherever it was.

Little did she know the changes that would come to her upon becoming Mrs. Josiah Grant.

Sophie finished her tea and set the cup on the tray again, thinking of all she had learned since her marriage. While she had learned to run a household from her mother and had taken up that mantle at ten and four when Mama passed away, Sophie was granted entry into a much different world from the one she knew, thanks to her new husband. Mr. Grant wanted to teach her about his business. Since she had always had an affinity for numbers, they started there, with her examining several years’ worth of ledgers for Neptune Shipping Lines. She took to bookkeeping with ease and assumed that position at the company.

That wasn’t enough for her husband, though. He wished for her to learn all aspects of his business. Over the last several years, Sophie had learned about shipbuilding. The kinds of wood it took. What the sails were made of. How long it took to build a ship. She had been instrumental in hiring crews, as well as determining which cargo they would take on and the ports of call their ships would make. She had studied the best trade routes and the times of year which were optimal for voyages. She studied the London newspapers and figured out what goods were needed and which wants were wanted, dividing what their ships brought back into necessities and luxury goods.

Seven years later, Sophie knew as much about shipping as her husband, and he had promised she would run Neptune Shipping once he was gone. She had accompanied Josiah to a solicitor, where the details of his will were clearly spelled out, leaving everything to Sophie and her control upon his death. She went to the office with Josiah each day, assuming more and more tasks and responsibility as time went on.

Being a businesswoman and having to make decisions had brought her out of her shell. She was no longer the timid turtle who would vanish from view when someone looked at her. While she would never be totally comfortable in social settings, Sophie was quite at home in the business world. It had taken years, but those who did business with Neptune Shipping Lines now understood that Mrs. Grant would be present at every meeting, her seat at the table not only guaranteed—but her vote being the deciding factor.

She left her bedchamber, passing Millie in the hall, saying, “You may clean my bedchamber now. Please take my dishes to the kitchen, as well.”

“Yes, Mrs. Grant,” the maid said with a cheery smile.

That’s what she enjoyed about living in Josiah’s household. Their two maids always had a pleasant attitude and ready smile. At her father’s establishments, servants were as timid as Sophie herself had once been, not wanting to upset or anger the volatile viscount. While Polite Society viewed her marriage to Josiah Grant as a definite tumble down the social ladder, she couldn’t be happier. She had no fondness for the ton and had as little to do with its members as possible. Though a viscount’s daughter, she and her husband were never invited to any events held during the Season. The few friends she’d had in girlhood had abandoned her once word of her marriage got out. Even if any had stayed by her side to begin with, they would have vanished once it became known that she went to the office each day and conducted business, both with Josiah and on her own.

She reached the foyer, and told the butler, who also served as her husband’s valet, “Please let Mr. Grant know it is time to leave for the office.”

“Yes, Mrs. Grant.”

Two minutes later, Josiah arrived, looking a bit haggard. It worried her that his step had slowed in the last few months, and he did not seem to be the vital man he was when they wed. Then again, he was now past sixty, having recently celebrated his sixty-first birthday. It was time for him to slow down and take on less responsibility, but she did not quite know how to broach the subject.

“How are you this morning, my dear?” he asked, brushing his lips against her cheek.

“I am quite well, but you look tired, Josiah. Did you not sleep well again?”

He shrugged. “They say it is old age. That you don’t need as much sleep as you once did.” He frowned. “Frankly, I would give my right arm for a good night’s sleep, but we shall talk of more interesting things.” He gave her a sly smile. “Such as the new ship I think we should consider building.”

“Oh, so you believe we need to add to our fleet?” she asked, a teasing smile on her own lips. “Escort me to our carriage, and we may discuss the matter.”

On the way to the waterfront, where the office and warehouse of Neptune Shipping Lines were located, Josiah made his case for a new ship to be commissioned.

“Those are all solid reasons,” Sophie agreed. “I will think upon it. Do you know when you wish for a decision to be made?”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “Whenever you think best, my dear. You know I trust your judgment implicitly.”

When they first wed, Sophie had dreaded what would pass between them physically. She only had a vague idea of how a man and woman came together. Her new husband, though, informed her after their wedding breakfast that there would be no physical intimacy between them. He told her that he was too old and no longer interested in that kind of thing. He did say he hoped that a fondness might grow between them, however, and that he hoped she didn’t mind if he used gestures of affection toward her if it did.

Josiah was easy to like, and they fell into a fast friendship. She didn’t mind if he took her hand or kissed her cheek. It was all the affection she needed. Where once she had thought her largest goal in life was to wed a titled gentleman from Polite Society and become a mother, Sophie found she did not miss the idea of children because she was so busy with the company.

They exited the carriage and went to their separate offices. Five years ago, Josiah had given her his own large office, taking a smaller one next to it. He said that she was doing the bulk of the work and would need a larger space. Still, he was in and out of her office multiple times a day as they discussed matters of business.

She reviewed every item that was pressing and took care of it, giving instructions to Mr. Barnes, their secretary and the most trusted employee in the company.

After Mr. Barnes left, she took out parchment and created a list of the advantages and disadvantages of adding a new ship to their line. She played with trade routes, placing a new ship in different rotations, figuring what profit could be made by expanding after they paid for the building of the ship.

In the end, Sophie decided Josiah was right. Now would be an excellent time to make the addition. It would mean several visits to Greenwich, where Neptune vessels were built. Though not far from London, she decided she might make those journeys on her own and leave her husband behind to continue dealing with business at the office. Despite him brushing off her concerns, she was worried about his health. He was slower to move these days. His color did not look good to her. Perhaps it was time to call in Dr. Denney and let him examine Josiah and make a recommendation regarding the level of activity he should pursue or even changing his diet.

Deciding that to be a good course of action, she dashed off a note to the physician, asking him to call upon her at the office at his earliest convenience. She would discuss the matter with Dr. Denney before approaching Josiah.

Sophie took the note and gave it to her secretary, asking that a messenger deliver it immediately.

Returning to her office, she began reading over a new contract when Josiah entered the room.

“Am I interrupting you?” he asked.

“Never,” she assured him. “Please, come and have a seat.”

He took one in front of her desk, and she handed him the list she had composed of reasons why they should or should not add an additional ship to their fleet.

Sophie watched him peruse it, and he said, “Hmm. I see the good far outweighs the bad.”

His gaze met hers, his eyes twinkling. “Does this mean I’ll get my ship?” he asked playfully.

She burst out laughing. “You sound like a little boy wanting a new toy boat to sail along the Serpentine. While this is a much larger undertaking than that, I do believe the cost would be justified by the profit we could make. Yes, Josiah, you will have your new ship.”

“Excellent. I knew you would agree with me. I will leave the details in your capable hands, but I have one request.”

“What is that?” she asked, curious.

“I want it to be christened the Sophie.”

Heat rose in her cheeks at the suggestion. “Why? Don’t you think that is rather . . . forward? Naming a ship after me? Why, you’ll have the ton gossiping even more than they usually do. They will think I am the one who requested it myself.”

Josiah clucked his tongue. “When have either of us ever worried about what Polite Society thought, my dear?”

“Never?” she countered.

He chuckled. “Exactly.” Then he grew serious. “I mean it, Sophie. You have put your heart and soul into Neptune Shipping these past few years. I would like to honor you and name a vessel of beauty after you in tribute to all you have done. I want it to sail fast and have sleek lines—and be the envy of every shipping line in Great Britain. No, in all of Europe.”

She was right in saying that tongues would wag with the ship being named after her, but Sophie decided that she did not care.

“If this pleases you, then I will accept this great honor,” she told him.

He smiled indulgently at her. “I cannot wait to christen it. Why, we could even—”

Then an odd look passed over his face, and Josiah clutched at his chest, where his heart lay.

Panic filled Sophie as she sprang to her feet and rushed from behind the desk, her husband slumping in his chair, moaning softly.

“Mr. Barnes! Get in here!” she cried.

As the secretary raced into the room, she began loosening her husband’s stiffly starched cravat, her fingers trembling.

“Summon Dr. Denney at once,” she said, the order given calmly now as she got control of herself.

“I just arrived, Mrs. Grant,” a voice from the open doorway said, and the physician rushed toward them, obviously seeing Josiah was in distress.

Grateful that he had answered her summons so promptly, she said, “He grabbed at his chest and then collapsed, Doctor.”

She eased the cravat from his neck, and Dr. Denney ripped open Josiah’s shirt. He placed his palm against the shipping magnate’s heart.

Her husband groaned. Sophie’s gaze met that of the physician’s.

“It is his heart, I’m afraid. We must get him prone.”

Mr. Barnes and the doctor eased Josiah from his chair and placed him on the ground. Sophie had already dropped to her knees, and she settled her husband’s head in her lap.

“Fetch a blanket,” she told Mr. Barnes, and the secretary ran from the room, returning with one which was in Josiah’s office for the times he was chilled.

“It is what we term angina pectoris—chest pain,” Dr. Denney said. “Most likely due to insufficient coronary circulation or inflammation surrounding his heart.”

“What can you do for him?” Sophie asked quietly, feeling helpless as the physician merely shrugged, shaking his head.

She held her husband’s hand and stroked his thinning hair with her free hand. He tried to speak, and she shushed him.

“No talking now. You need rest, Josiah. We shall work on getting you home so that you will be more comfortable.”

He shook his head. “No . . . going home. This is . . . the end, Sophie.”

“No!” she cried, tears swimming in her eyes. “I cannot lose you, Josiah. I need you.”

“You . . . have all the tools . . . you need. To run this.”

He glanced up at her, and Sophie saw the pain on his face, but his eyes held acceptance at his fate.

“You have been the best part of my life, Josiah,” she said, tears now blinding her. “You changed everything about me. If not for you, I would never have gained confidence. Never found a purpose. I love you.”

She meant the words, ones she had never spoken to him before. It wasn’t a romantic love between sweethearts, but it was the love of deeply-rooted friendship. Josiah Grant had been her teacher. Her guide. Her confidant. Her companion.

“You are ready,” he said, now wheezing. “You . . . will see my legacy . . . lives . . . on . . .”

Sophie felt the life ebbing from him and knew she was helpless to stop things. She kept her gaze on him, smiling reassuringly, as he groaned again, his body stiffening. His face contorted, and she knew he was in agony.

“Go, my darling,” she told him. “Don’t hold on for my sake. I will be fine. You have prepared me well.”

Her words seemed to calm him, and he gave her a final, weak smile. Josiah closed his eyes and grew still.

She looked down at the best man she had ever known, her throat thick with emotion, tears streaming down her cheeks. She glanced to Mr. Barnes and then Dr. Denney.

The physician said, “It is good that he went quickly, Mrs. Grant. Mr. Grant was always larger than life. If he would have recovered from this heart episode, he would have had to live a very quiet, highly restricted life. Something he would have chomped at the bit about. This way, he went out on his own terms.”

“And he could go because he knew he could entrust everything to you, Mrs. Grant,” Mr. Barnes pointed out. “You will continue managing Neptune Shipping Lines and do the excellent job you always have. Mr. Grant was right. He will live on through what is here—and what you will continue to create.”

While Sophie knew both men spoke the truth, she had never felt more alone in her life.