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Synopsis
As a boy, Seth Atwell falls in love with the sea. His uncle, Lord Hopewell, arranges for Seth to become a cabin boy, and over the years, Seth works his way up to the position of captain of a trading vessel. On a return trip home to England, he is shocked to learn that he is the new Viscount Hopewell—and must give up his seafaring ways.
Lady Philippa Strong has a zest for life and is always in motion. Curious about everything, with a love of languages and geography, Pippa doesn’t want to make her come-out with her twin. Though she adores Georgina, Pippa knows when the ton compares the two Strong twins, she will come up lacking.
Seth retreats to Hopewood, his country estate, where he encounters his ducal neighbor’s sister. Seth is drawn to Pippa’s free spirit and inquisitive nature, and she agrees to give him riding lessons since he has never been atop a horse. The pair grow close, but friendship is not enough for this viscount. He wants to claim Pippa as his viscountess.
Can Seth convince Pippa that friends can become lovers—and that love does not limit a woman’s opportunities?
*Each book in The Strongs of Shadowcrest is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order and can be read free with Kinde 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
Release date: March 13, 2024
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Print pages: 256
* BingeBooks earns revenue from qualifying purchases as an Amazon Associate as well as from other retail partners.
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The Perks of Loving a Viscount
Alexa Aston
PROLOGUE
London—August 1790
“Hold still, Seth,” his father admonished as he tied the cravat around Seth’s neck. “There. That will do nicely.”
Seth reached for the small hand mirror and held it up, seeing the cravat perfectly knotted. He also wore a new coat, a little too large for him, but his father always purchased his son’s clothes with plenty of room so that Seth would be able to take his time growing into them and wear them for a good, long while.
They were going to visit Lord Hopewell today, a man who was Seth’s uncle. Father said Hopewell had seen Seth shortly after his birth, having come to the funeral of Seth’s mother, who died giving birth to her firstborn. Father said the viscount rarely came to London, and so this was a special occasion, getting to meet his uncle.
Father finished dressing himself, and then they set out for Mayfair, a part of London which was quite exclusive. Father and son walked all areas of town because his father enjoyed getting out and seeing people. He worked long hours at a solicitor’s office, coming home extremely tired, but saying that walking and being with Seth energized him.
Seth vowed never to work in an office. He enjoyed the outdoors and was happiest when his school day ended, and he was able to walk home each day. Many days, he walked down to London’s waterfront area, watching the great sailing ships come in from around the world. He could think of no life better than one lived outdoors, especially as a sailor on the seas.
Father hailed a hansom cab, surprising Seth. They rarely rode in one, saving their coin and walking everywhere. Even at eight years of age, he understood that his father wanted them to look their best when they arrived at Lord Hopewell’s townhouse.
Seth only knew bits and pieces about his father’s family and nothing of his mother’s. He knew this uncle they visited today was a viscount, which meant people addressed him as my lord, and he had received property and money when his own father died. The other three sons in the family had to make their own way in the world. One uncle was in the military. Another was a vicar in the country. Father constantly reminded Seth that he would also need to earn a living, encouraging him to work hard in school. Father had told him if he did so, there would be a place for him at Mr. Peabody’s office. Seth merely smiled, knowing he would never want to be a clerk and toil at a desk over papers every day.
They reached Mayfair, and the hansom cab pulled up in front of a beautiful stone townhouse. Several carriages sat nearby, lining the street, their coachmen waiting for the passengers to return.
As they disembarked from the vehicle, Father reminded Seth, “You will bow to Hopewell. Always address him as my lord—and never uncle. He may extend his hand and if he does so, shake it firmly but briefly.”
His eyes looked over the large townhouse. “He lives here all by himself?”
“Hopewell resides in the country. In Kent. He rarely comes to town, but when he does, he stays here at the Atwell townhouse. It belongs to whoever is the current viscount. Because he comes to town so infrequently, most of the furniture will be covered in sheets to keep away the dust. Only a skeleton staff operates it. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Hopewell has chosen to keep no servants at the townhouse and merely brings a few from the country with him on the rare occasions he is in town.”
Father ruffled Seth’s hair. “You will be fine, my boy. Do not speak unless spoken to. I doubt we will be here for very long. Just remember that it is a great honor to have been invited.”
A butler admitted them, and Seth gazed about in wonder at the grandeur of the foyer. They were encouraged to mount the stairs, where a footman escorted them to a drawing room. He had never seen such a large room in his entire life and marveled that a handful of people lived this way since he and Father lived in two small rooms.
The room currently held about two dozen guests, and Father nudged him along to what he called a receiving line. Seth could see a tall, lean man greeting his guests. As they moved up in the line, it struck him at how sad this man appeared. To think he was a viscount and possessed wealth and a house large enough for dozens of families to live in, and yet he looked so very unhappy.
They reached the head of the line, and Father bowed, as did Seth.
“Hopewell, it is good to see you again. This is my boy. Seth.”
The viscount shook hands with his brother and then turned his attention to Seth, giving him a sad smile. “I last saw you when you were but a few days old. How old are you now?”
“I am eight years of age, my lord. It is good to see you again, even if I don’t remember the last time.”
The remark caused Hopewell to chuckle, and Seth felt good he had made the viscount laugh.
“We will talk later,” Hopewell said abruptly, and he understood that meant they were to move on so the viscount could greet his other guests.
He and his father strolled about the room, Father talking to a few people and introducing Seth, who grew increasingly bored. He wandered away, moving to the window and looking outside. He glanced around, seeing his father engaged in conversation, and decided that he might explore just a little bit of the house. He doubted his father would miss him. Father never got to spend time with adults other than at work and never went to social affairs. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Seth slipped out the door and wandered along the corridor. He opened several doors, entering the rooms, seeing furniture covered. The vast rooms seemed a bit forlorn, much as their owner was.
One room was lined with shelves of books, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him, eager to see what lay on those shelves. He ran his fingertip along the spines of books, amazed that one man would have so many books gathered in one place. For his birthday each year, Seth received a book from his father since he loved to read. Father had taught him books were expensive and should be treasured.
He roamed the room, and near the window stood a large globe. Seth began turning it, his finger tracing different countries, faraway places that he vowed to visit one day.
Lost in thought, he didn’t realize someone else had entered the room until he felt a presence beside him and glanced up.
Hopewell smiled down at him. “You enjoy geography, Seth? Are you good at your studies?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “I like geography and history, and I’m very good at maths. What I don’t like is having to sit at a desk so long each day.”
He turned back to the globe, running his finger along the broad Atlantic Ocean. “Someday, I’m going to sail the Seven Seas. I love Father, but I don’t want to be a clerk as he is. I prefer being outside when I can.”
“So, you fancy yourself a sailor?” asked the viscount.
“I do,” he said. “One day, I’ll sign on to a ship’s crew and travel the world. There are so many places I want to see, my lord. I wish to feel the heat of India on my back. Scale a mountain. See the Great Pyramids.”
Seth’s enthusiasm took over. “I go down to the harbor and watch the great ships come in. I thought I could join the navy one day and fight for England on the waters.”
Hopewell grew thoughtful and then said, “If you truly wish to go to sea, Seth, you should go now, while you are young, and learn all you can.”
He frowned. “And leave my studies? Father would never approve.”
“You already know how to read and write,” the viscount pointed out. “You have told me you are good with numbers. Any learning beyond that, you can do on your own. If you truly wish to go to sea, I can make that happen for you. I invest in numerous businesses, and one of them is a shipping line. Strong Shipping. We could see about getting you onboard as a cabin boy.”
Excitement rippled through him. “Would you really do that for me, my lord?” Then his face fell. “Father would never allow it.”
“I think I might be able to talk him into it.” Hopewell winked. “After all, I am a viscount. I am also the oldest of the four brothers and have always held sway over my younger siblings.”
“Could you, my lord? I would be forever grateful.”
The door opened, and Father rushed in. “There you are, Seth. You vanished, and I have been looking all over for you.”
Father bowed again to Lord Hopewell. “I apologize for my son wandering about, my lord. It was not for you to chase him down.”
“I did not go looking for Seth,” the viscount admitted. “I was merely wishing to escape from all those guests. You know I am not good with people, Atwell, but your son and I have had a most interesting conversation. One thing he told me? He wishes to go away to sea.”
His father frowned deeply. “Seth has talked such nonsense before, but he must stay in school if he is to make anything of himself.”
“The boy has no interest in being like you, Brother,” Hopewell said. “He enjoys the outdoors and has a love for the sea. I have told him he knows how to read and write. Any additional education beyond that would be his dedication to his own learning. Pursuing what interests him and developing those interests. I can arrange for Seth to be a cabin boy. It is well within my grasp to do so.”
Hopewell paused, his gaze searching his brother’s. “You know how unhappy I have been my entire life. Being saddled as the heir apparent and then Viscount Hopewell. Don’t let your son be as miserable as I have been all these years. Allow him to follow his heart’s desire and go to sea.”
Hope spring within Seth as he saw his father consider the idea.
Father placed his hands on Seth’s shoulders. “Is this truly something you wish for, Seth?”
“It is, Father!” he exclaimed. “I want to seek adventure. Travel to new lands. Get to know all kinds of people and learn about their cultures.”
“All right, Hopewell. Arrange it. I would see my boy happy.”
Seth threw his arms around his father, hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Father. Thank you so much.”
He released his hold and gazed up at his uncle. “And thank you, my lord, for making this happen.”
“All I ask is that you do as your captain says and learn as much as you can. Not just from the other sailors but from books that I will send to you. You will read these books, and we will correspond about them.”
“Yes, my lord,” Seth agreed enthusiastically, knowing his love of reading would always be a part of him and that he would be happy to read whatever books his uncle gave to him.
“I will send word to you when the arrangements have been made,” the viscount told his brother. “Thank you for coming today. I know these are not your people, so feel free to leave now.”
They took their leave, walking to Hyde Park. Occasionally, his father brought Seth here to sail a toy boat along the Serpentine. Today, they merely walked the path beside it.
“I will miss you, Seth,” Father said. “But you have that sense of adventure which your mother had.” He smiled gently. “Her spirit was one of the things I loved most about her. I see so much of her in you.”
“Do you miss her, Father?”
“Every minute of every day,” Father said quietly.
Having never known a mother, Seth could only guess at what it might be like to lose someone you loved. He realized that in a way, his father would also be losing him now—to the sea.
“If you don’t wish me to go away, Father, I will stay with you in London. I don’t want you to be lonely.”
His father smoothed Seth’s hair. “I would not keep you from your dreams, my dear boy. More than anything, you should follow your heart. Your mother would want that for you.” He gave Seth a bright smile. “And you can always come and visit me when your ship returns each time.”
“I promise I will do so, Father. Every single time. And I will write to you, so you will know everywhere I have gone or will be going.”
“I will cherish each and every letter from you, Seth.”
Two days later, a message arrived from Lord Hopewell. It asked for Seth and his father to be at the docks early the next morning, where Seth would be sailing on his first voyage.
He barely slept because of his excitement.
They arrived at the docks, having indulged in the luxury of hiring a hansom cab. Seth had a haversack holding his clothes and a few books which had accompanied yesterday’s message, books which Lord Hopewell wanted him to read while he was at sea.
Surprisingly, the viscount himself was standing next to the ship, and they made their way to him. The pair bowed to the viscount and then shook hands with Hopewell.
“You must complete this voyage in its entirety, Seth,” his uncle told him. “The ship will be gone close to two years. By then, you should have a good idea whether you want to remain at sea or not. If you decide the life is not for you, you have only to tell the captain, and we can see you return to school. If you choose to stay a sailor, that will be your decision and no one else’s.”
“Can we go aboard so I might see where he will live?” his father asked.
Hopewell chuckled. “I thought you might ask that. The captain has given us permission to board. We will use this gangplank.” The viscount indicated a wide length of board which men were going up and down.
They boarded the ship, and Lord Hopewell introduced them to the captain. He seemed a bit gruff, but Seth supposed all men in charge must act that way and keep their distance, not wanting to get too close to their men.
The time came for him to say goodbye, and Seth hugged his father tightly.
“Be a good boy,” Father said. “Do everything your captain and those above ask of you.”
It surprised him when Lord Hopewell also hugged him briefly. “Read those books and write to me, Nephew.”
He handed Seth a slip of paper with an address on it in Kent.
“I will write to both of you,” he promised.
The brothers walked down the gangplank. Once they were back on the docks, two sailors hoisted up the gangplank, returning it to the ship. The ship became busy with activity as it prepared to leave port. Seth had been given no instructions yet, so he stood out of the way, watching everything happen, excitement growing within him.
The sails were raised and the anchor lifted, and the ship began to move. He turned and waved to his father and uncle for as long as he could see them, London receding from view.
Then a sailor appeared before him.
“Come along, Atwell. It’s time to start your duties.” The sailor slapped Seth on the back. “Welcome to the Seven Seas, lad.”
CHAPTER 1
London—Late October 1809
Captain Seth Atwell’s belly churned uncomfortably, causing him to wonder if he would even keep down his most recent meal. It had been so ever since they left Bristol a few days ago.
He would be bringing in Odyssey for the second time as a captain. All his life, Seth had envisioned himself in charge of a great sailing vessel, and it had finally come to pass. He had risen through the ranks for two decades as he sailed for Strong Shipping Lines, finally attaining his current position.
But how long would he hold it?
News had awaited him when they landed in Bristol to unload a portion of their cargo. His father had known of that stop, and Seth was not surprised to find a letter waiting for him upon his arrival. When he had opened it, however, it had rocked his world.
Seth removed that letter from his inner coat pocket, unfolding it once more, wishing its contents could be magically changed. Unfolding it, he glanced at the familiar handwriting and read through it for what had to be the hundredth time.
My dearest son Seth –
Something incredible has come to pass, an event which has changed my life—and yours.
Hopewell is dead. I know that news will jar you since you and he have grown close over the many years you have corresponded. From what I have learned, he did not suffer. He went quietly in his sleep, simply not opening his eyes one morning.
What is so remarkable about his death is that it will mean a new life for the both of us.
You see, Seth, my other two brothers are also gone, one lost in the war with the Little Corporal, and the other passing from a bad heart. Both those deaths came close together, only a week apart. In fact, it was Hopewell who wrote to me of them, asking if I might come to Hopewood for their burials.
I did so, seeing my brother for a last time, observing how thin and weary he appeared, but never guessing he would soon be dead himself.
I returned to town and received news of Hopewell’s death less than a week later. You know what that means now, Seth.
I am Viscount Hopewell.
As I write to you of this news, I am about to forever leave the two rooms I have spent so many years living in, the rooms I brought my lovely bride to. I regret that you never knew your mother, Seth. She looked at everything in life with such gusto, and she could find happiness in even the direst situation. I only hope we shall be reunited when I pass from this life into the next.
Of course, this means a change of life for me. I have spent my last hour at Mr. Peabody’s office, making copies of wills and marriage contracts. I will never again have to carefully watch each farthing. I can once more dress as a gentleman and move among the ton because I am a part of it again.
I know you will be home soon from your latest voyage, and we will have much to discuss. The sea claimed you long ago, Seth, but she has had you two decades now. You will need to prepare for a different kind of life, one of ease and freedom. I came from it and know it well, but I will have much to teach you until it is time for you to take on the mantle of Viscount Hopewell yourself.
I will meet Odyssey when it sails into London, the first time I will have had the luxury of being on the docks when you arrive.
Take care, my wonderful boy. A new and exciting life awaits you.
With much love.
Father
Seth resisted the urge to tear the letter into a thousand pieces. He did not want to leave the life he had built for himself. His father may have missed being a part of Polite Society, but Seth had never been a member of it. He would have to find a way to refuse this eventual title and all that came with it. It would be imperative to quickly seek out a clever solicitor to learn what steps he must take in order for the title and estates to pass from his father to some other relative. The problem was, he knew of no other such relatives.
Years ago, he had finally met his uncle, a second son, who at that time was a colonel in the British army. The last he knew, his uncle had worked his way up to the rank of major-general and had never wed. His other uncle, playing out the role of a typical third son, had become a country vicar whose wife had died giving birth to their first child, and he had never married again, telling Seth’s father he could not be disloyal to his loving wife’s memory.
Seth would have to find a way to locate some relative and see how he could have the title skip over him and be awarded to some other male in the Atwell family. If no relative could be found to take it on, then perhaps both title and lands could revert to the crown. With Britain at war with France, he thought the royal treasury would appreciate gaining back the wealth and could put it to good use.
His temper under control now, Seth refolded the letter and slipped it into his coat pocket once more. He had always been nothing but honest with his father, but he believed he would need to seek a remedy to this problem and not involve his father in it until a solution had been found. It would greatly disappoint the new viscount that his son wanted to wash his hands of being an heir apparent. He could only imagine how proud Father was, a fourth son finally holding the title of Viscount Hopewell, and wanting to pass it on to his only son.
As far as Seth was concerned, though, he wanted no part of a system which favored only sons to begin with and only the eldest one, at that. Why should a man inherit wealth, lands, and a lofty title, while his siblings had to work for their living? He believed things should be earned by hard work, not due to the whim of birth order.
He entered a final entry into his captain’s log and then made his way up to the deck. They were on the Thames now, and London soon came into view. He could put a smile on his face because he would be happy to see his father again after a long couple of years at sea. Odyssey would need a few repairs done before she could be taken out again, but Seth planned to be the captain who did so. He would not be giving up anything because he was supposed to inherit some worthless title, and he was far too active to become a gentleman of leisure.
He gave several orders as they approached London’s waterfront, and men scurried about the deck. They pulled into a slip owned by Strong Shipping Lines and dropped anchor, lowering their sails. Seth scanned the wharf, looking for his father and not seeing him. He turned and spoke to his first mate, relaying a few more instructions, and then went downstairs to claim his captain’s log to turn over after he went to the Strong Shipping offices to report in on Odyssey’s time at sea.
By the time he arrived on deck again, the gangplank had been lowered, and cargo was already being unloaded from Odyssey. Descending the gangplank, Seth saw the supervisor of Strong’s warehouse, stopping to visit with him for a minute.
“A good trip, Captain?” the man asked genially.
“Everything was smooth sailing,” he shared. “It is nice to set foot upon British soil again, however. I am headed to the Strong offices now.”
“During your absence, there have been some changes, Captain Atwell. The Strong heir turned up. He was none other than a ship’s captain for Neptune Shipping.”
“What?” he asked, having been familiar with the story of the Duke of Seaton’s heir apparent vanishing at London’s waterfront years ago, never to be heard from again.
“No one knows the full story, Captain, but apparently the boy was taken and sailed on Neptune ships all these years, working his way up to captain.”
“How did Josiah Grant react?” Seth asked, referring to the owner of Neptune Shipping, Strong’s chief rival.
“Grant passed away in his offices back in August. Mrs. Grant took over in his stead.”
That did not surprise him, knowing that Mrs. Grant had been running Neptune Shipping alongside her husband since their marriage several years ago.
“I’m sorry to hear of his passing, but Mrs. Grant should do a fine job. I have heard she is a most clever woman.”
“Clever enough to have snagged a duke,” the supervisor said. “She is supposed to wed the former captain of Vesta. The announcement was in the newspapers this week. I suppose it will mean that Strong and Neptune will merge into one line.”
Seth rubbed his chin in thought. “You’re most likely right. The duke will control Neptune once the vows are spoken. It would only make sense to fold Mrs. Grant’s shipping line into that of Strong. Thanks for letting me know of the situation. Good seeing you.”
He turned and headed in the direction of Strong Shipping, which was but a short distance from the Thames. Then someone called his name.
“Captain Atwell? Captain Atwell? Is that you?”
He found a stranger standing there, a nondescript man in his mid-twenties, with brown hair and brown eyes, dressed much as Seth’s own father had dressed as a clerk.
“Yes, I’m Captain Atwell.”
The man handed him a letter. “This is for you, sir.”
“All right,” he said, accepting it, starting to slip the letter into his coat’s pocket.
“Mr. Peabody said for you to read it immediately, Captain,” the man said nervously.
Peabody was the solicitor Seth’s father had worked for all these years.
“You work for Peabody?”
“I do.” The clerk paused. “Good day, Captain.” He scurried from sight.
His curiosity raised, he broke the seal on the letter and opened it, glancing to the bottom and seeing Peabody’s signature there. His eyes drifted to the top, and he began reading.
Dear Captain Atwell –
I regret to inform you of the passing of Viscount Hopewell. I know this will be a surprise to you, and I am most sorry for your loss.
If you will go with my clerk, he will bring you to my offices, where we can discuss the matter further.
Sincerely yours,
Arthur Peabody
Confusion filled Seth. Why would Peabody wish to speak to him about his uncle’s death—unless he had served as Hopewell’s attorney. Then again, he and Hopewell had grown close over the years, their correspondence covering a wide variety of topics, ranging from politics to history to literature. Seth had never seen his uncle again in person once he went to sea since Hopewell had been such a recluse and was never in London. Still, they had a close relationship and a deep respect for one another, achieved through two decades of correspondence. Perhaps his uncle had left Seth something in his will, a small item in which to remember him by.
He folded the letter and glanced up, seeing the clerk hovering nearby.
“I have a hansom cab waiting for us,” the man said. “If you will come with me.”
He looked about the docks a final time, not seeing his father, thinking he must had been delayed or called to the country and had not been able to greet Seth upon Odyssey’s arrival. He supposed it would all be sorted out soon. He would see this solicitor first and then go to the Hopewell townhouse in Mayfair.
Neither man spoke during the ride to Mr. Peabody’s offices, which suited him. Seth had been a small boy when he had last visited the premises, but things seemed remarkably the same as they entered the office and he looked about. The clerk asked him to wait a moment, and within a minute, Mr. Peabody himself appeared.
Offering his hand, the solicitor said, “It has been many years, my lord. You have grown into a man, a fine man, according to your father. Then again, that does not surprise me, knowing what a good soul he was. Would you accompany me to my office?” Peabody asked.
He hated already being addressed as my lord and supposed the heir to the viscountcy held some minor title. It made him all the more determined to seek a remedy to this nonsense.
Seth followed the older man, and he took the seat indicated. Peabody went behind his desk and sat, moving a few papers around.
“This is Lord Hopewell’s will. It was written recently, as you might guess.”
Seth had no clue why that would be the case, but he merely nodded.
“I know you have limited knowledge of the properties held by Lord Hopewell since you have been away at sea. I will be more than happy to go over everything with you, my lord. I know this must be a very difficult time for you.”
He froze, understanding washing over him. “You . . . you are referring to my father, aren’t you?”
“Why, yes, I am. Did you not read the letter I sent? I instructed my clerk to have you read it the moment you came ashore.”
Shaking his head in denial, he said, “You talked of . . . you wrote of Lord Hopewell’s death. I thought you meant . . . my uncle.”
“No, my lord,” the solicitor said quietly. “I referred to your father, the Mr. Atwell whom I employed for many years. Didn’t you receive his letter when you came ashore at Bristol? Lord Hopewell told me he was writing to you, breaking the news before you saw him here in London.”
Tears welled in Seth’s eyes. “Yes, Mr. Peabody. I did receive that letter. Father said he would meet my ship on the docks today. When I didn’t see him, I merely thought he’d been delayed. I had no idea when I read your letter that you referred to my own father’s death. I supposed you had been my uncle’s solicitor, and that he had left me something to remember him by.”
“I regret I did not make that clear to you in my brief note, my lord. I didn’t wish to elaborate on something so personal, thinking it better to visit with you in person regarding the passing of your father.”
“How did Father die?” he asked, removing his handkerchief and mopping his eyes.
“It was remarkably similar to the previous viscount’s passing,” Peabody said. “Your father had taken up residence in the Atwell townhouse in Mayfair. He and I had spent two full days together, going over what he, as Viscount Hopewell, now owned. We were to meet again for a third and final day when I received word yesterday morning that Lord Hopewell had passed away in his sleep. Knowing you would be home in the next day or so, no burial arrangements have been made. However, all three of your uncles are buried at Crestview, the nearest village to Hopewood, the country seat of your family. It is in Kent.”
Sympathy filled the solicitor’s eyes. “I am sorry to be the bearer of such bad news, my lord.”
Hearing himself continually addressed in such a manner riled Seth. “I have no wish to be a viscount. I don’t want the title. Or Hopewood. Give it to someone else. Find my closest relative, Peabody. I will see Father buried alongside his siblings, but I plan to take Odyssey back to sea as soon as possible.”
Peabody shook his head. “Things do not work that way, my lord. There is no rejecting the title and passing it on to someone else. Like it or not, you are—and will be—Lord Hopewell until your own death. You have a townhouse in Mayfair, as well as Hopewood in the country and all its tenants, which you are now responsible for. Hopewood is entailed, so there can be no selling of it. It is meant for your son, the next Viscount Hopewell. You also have investments in several companies, and I will be glad to share all that with you. The fact remains, my lord, that you will always be Viscount Hopewell. Until your death.”
Seth felt as if he’d been laid flat with the blows. First, learning of his father’s recent death. Second, hearing he was permanently saddled with a title he never wished for, and not one but two places to live. He would have too many people depending upon him. He must take up the mantle of responsibility, one which he had never wished to hold.
To think he’d spent his last voyage at sea and not known it almost caused him to break down, especially knowing he would never sail the seven seas again as a captain for Strong Shipping. In the blink of an eye, his life had forever changed.
And not for the better.
“I must see Father properly buried, Mr. Peabody. Would you accompany me to Kent for this? Then I will need to learn everything I can from you.”
“I would be happy to accompany you to Hopewood, my lord. Simply tell your staff you wish to leave for the country tomorrow morning, and they will make it happen. I can ride down in the carriage with you if you wish. It should take about three hours to reach your new home.”
Home was the water. Not land. And certainly not a large estate. Home wasn’t Polite Society. It was his crew.
Worse, he would now have to shackle himself to some emptyheaded woman and produce an heir, forcing his oldest son into a life Seth didn’t want to be a part of and would never care about.
“I must meet with the head of Strong Shipping and let him know I will no longer be in their service,” he said stoically. “Can you be at my . . . townhouse tomorrow morning? We can ride down to Hopewood together then. After breakfast.”
“Of course,” Peabody agreed. He rose. “I will see you in the morning, my lord.”
Seth left the solicitor’s office without a word. He couldn’t speak, his voice thick with emotion.
He was now Viscount Hopewell. No wonder his uncle had appeared to be so unhappy, stuck in a role he never asked for, tied to an estate.
And now Seth shared that unhappiness.
CHAPTER 2
Shadowcrest—Kent
Philippa Strong awoke, feeling Georgie snuggled next to her. Her twin snored slightly. It was the only thing wrong with Georgina. Her sister had a sweet nature and was very feminine. Georgie never rushed in doing anything, preferring to be methodical. While both girls were the same height and had dark brown hair and the cornflower blue Strong eyes, Georgie had ample breasts and wider hips.
Though Pippa thought her sister’s figure beautiful, she preferred her own—long and lean, with small breasts. Aunt Matty had always called Pippa a tomboy, not simply because she enjoyed riding and swimming, but because Pippa liked to dress as a boy whenever they resided in the country. She preferred the freedom that came from wearing breeches and shirts, and she really liked wearing an oversized man’s coat. It was much warmer than what women wore, and dressing in that manner allowed her to roam about Shadowcrest feeling comfortable, no matter what the weather.
She was grateful to finally have returned to the country after three long years of living in London. The usual pattern had been for her family to go to town each spring for the Season and then return to Shadowcrest when it ended. That had changed when Papa had grown ill. Mama called it apoplexy. Pippa only knew that her mean Uncle Adolphus and his sneaky son, Theo, had moved into their London townhouse, changing everything. They bossed the servants about and told Mama and her daughters what they could and could not do. Her two cousins, Lyric and Allegra, already lived with the duke and duchess most of the year, simply because Uncle Adolphus didn’t like having females about.
It was her uncle who had forbid them from seeing Papa. No one dared go against those orders, especially after Aunt Matty did and was banished to the country. None of the duke’s daughters was particularly close to him, but Pippa thought it unfair of her uncle to demand they stay away.
All that had changed when her half-brother had returned. James had been gone seventeen years, vanishing as a boy when Pippa and Georgie were still in leading strings. James had come home finally. She still wasn’t quite clear on all the particulars, but James was now the Duke of Seaton and head of their family since Papa had recently passed. At least she and her sisters had been allowed to see Papa once James returned and took charge of the household. Uncle Adolphus and Cousin Theo had left, and no one had seen—or missed—them.
James had also married the nicest woman three days ago in the Shadowcrest chapel. Sophie was beautiful and intelligent and very different from any woman Pippa had ever met in the ton. She had been married before, to a much older man, and he had left his shipping business to her. Sophie ran it—and would continue to do so, thanks to James being generous and allowing it in the marriage settlements. Frankly, Pippa couldn’t think of one man in Polite Society who might have allowed his new wife to run any business, much less a shipping empire. And Neptune Shipping was Strong Shipping Lines’ competitor, which made it all the more delicious.
Sophie had become Pippa’s new idol. She liked that Sophie used her brain. Maybe her new sister-in-law would help teach Pippa about business so that she, too, might run a company someday.
She snickered. Georgie would laugh at that. Her sister would never have thought such outrageous things. While she adored her twin, Georgie was a typical young woman of the ton, eager to have her first Season next spring and find a husband.
Pippa didn’t want a husband.
She had never liked anyone telling her what to do, and that seemed to be what husbands did best. They bossed about their wives. Their children. Their servants. She had no tolerance for that.
What if she refused to make her come-out?
It would be unheard of, for a duke’s daughter to not make her debut into Polite Society. But if anyone might understand her feelings, it would be Sophie and James.
She glanced at Georgie, who still slept blissfully. Her twin would be upset if Pippa didn’t join her for the Season next spring. Yet they couldn’t always be together. Yes, they had been conceived and grown together in Mama’s womb, born within a few minutes of one another. They had always slept together in the same bed. Shared clothes until their bodies began changing a few years ago. She and Georgie were not only sisters, but also good friends.
Having a husband would change all that, however. A husband told you where and when to go. Georgie might wed someone who lived a hundred miles from Kent. Upon her marriage, Georgie would have to leave Shadowcrest and be with her husband and raise their family. Even if Pippa were to agree to wed some gentleman, his country estate might be at the opposite side of England from her twin’s new home. That would mean the sisters would only see one another during the few months of the Season.
Or worse. What if one of them wed a Scotsman? She had heard sometimes titled lords from Scotland came to London, seeking a bride, and then once they had her?
They stayed home in Scotland!
That would never do. It would be better if Pippa didn’t marry at all. She would be free to come and go as she pleased in a few more years. She could be the kind aunt to Georgie’s children, who spoiled them terribly, just as Aunt Matty was to all the Strong girls.
How was she to tell Georgie, though, that she didn’t want a Season—or a husband? Her sister would never understand that. It might even drive a wedge between them, which was the last thing Pippa wanted to do.
“Oh, bother!” she said aloud, causing Georgie to stir, but she did not awaken. The Second Coming would occur, with trumpets blaring, and Georgie would sleep through it.
Pippa slipped from the bed, sensing it was still early, but her thoughts were swirling. An idea was already forming. She knew she would never fall asleep. Instead, she gathered her clothes, which had been laid out the previous evening at bedtime. The six girls shared two maids, who helped them to dress and bathe and took care of their clothes. She rang and hoped one of them would be up and about to help her dress. Instead of a shirt and trousers, she would dress in a gown, hoping her attire might soften the blow.
It was Kitty who appeared, quietly entering the room, carrying a jug to fill the basin with fresh water.
“Couldn’t sleep, Lady Philippa?” she whispered.
“No. Would you help me dress, Kitty?”
“Of course, my lady.”
The maid helped Pippa into her layers of clothing and then brushed her hair until it shone, winding it into a chignon.
“Thank you, Kitty. And I am sorry if I roused you too soon.”
“You weren’t too early. I was heading this way to light the fire anyway.”
“Go ahead and do so. Georgie should be up soon.”
She went downstairs to the breakfast room, finding Aunt Matty already there, buttering toast points.
“Good morning, Pippa, my dear,” her aunt said, as one footman seated Pippa and another poured tea for her.
“How are you this morning, Aunt?”
“My knees are creaking a bit more than usual. Other than that, I am fit as a fiddle.”
Pippa asked for eggs and toast and then asked, “Did you do a Season?”
“Oh, my. What a question.” Aunt Matty fell silent, a wistful look on her face.
She watched her aunt, having never seen such a tender look in her eyes. “Aunt Matty?”
Blinking away tears, the older woman cleared her throat. “The answer to your question is yes, I made my come-out at eight and ten. Oh, so many years ago. I was quite the dancer, you know, graceful and light on my feet. And I fell hopelessly in love.”
“You did?” she asked. “I have never heard you talk of this.”
The older woman smiled ruefully. “Because I never have. Until now.”
Her aunt flicked her wrist, and the footmen and butler quickly vacated the breakfast room.
“You see, he was in the military. Or was about to be. His father had already purchased the commission. As a second son, he had little choice. But he had just completed university, and his mother thought attending a few events of the Season would put a bit of polish on him. Make him a better officer.”
Aunt Matty sighed. “He caught my eye right away, as did I his. When we danced together, it was as if we were made for one another. We had many things in common. The only problem was that he would be leaving England soon, with his regiment, bound for the American colonies. Trouble had been brewing with some of the native tribes in the Great Lakes region, led by a chief named Pontiac. I had always been interested in current affairs and read the newspapers voraciously, so I knew what my beloved was being sent to.”
When her aunt didn’t speak, Pippa prompted, “What?”
Tears filled the old woman’s eyes. “War is brutal, Pippa, my dear. English forts were being attacked, along with settlements. Hundreds of colonists were killed or captured. In a desperate attempt to gain an advantage, British officers tried to infect their enemies with smallpox by using blankets which had been exposed to the virus.”
Aunt Matty shuddered. “My beloved left England, bound for the colonies to fight in this rebellion. He refused to offer for me, saying life as a soldier’s wife was no life for a duke’s daughter. I told him that I did not care. That I loved him. But he was firm. He told me he would not write. That I should go on and live my life, merely holding fond memories of him.”
Pippa found herself growing emotional at this tale. “Did you ever see him again, Aunt Matty? Or hear from him?”
“I did,” Aunt Matty confirmed. “My beloved had another officer write to me as he lay on his deathbed, his wounds too severe to survive. He told me that he loved me. He had not done so before because he was afraid I would wait for him.” She wiped away her tears. “And he was right. No man ever caught my interest. I could not give another my heart when I had already given it to him.”
Her aunt fingered the locket she always wore. “I have a lock of his hair inside this. I have never taken it off, not in forty-four years. He is the reason why I never wed.”
Pippa reached and squeezed her aunt’s hand. “Do you regret that decision?”
“No. I have had all you girls to keep me company. You have been more than enough.”
She rose and embraced her aunt. “I am sorry.”
“Don’t be, my sweet. Some women are never lucky enough to find love. I did for a brief time—and I have held it in my heart all these years.”
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