The Second Time Around

Book 0: Worthingtons

by Ella Quinn

Genres: Historical Fiction; Regency Romance

Synopsis

In this entry of the USA Today–bestselling Regency romance series, a widow gets a second chance at love when reunited with a dashing viscount.

Patience was the second wife of the Earl of Worthington before he died. So why shouldn’t Patience be allowed a second chance at marriage, too? Of course, finding a new husband was not something the mother of four had ever planned on. But a surprise encounter with her first love has suddenly made the impossible seem possible all over again…

It seems like a lifetime ago that Richard, Viscount Wolverton, was halfway around the world, looking for adventure…while Patience, at her coming-out, was left with no choice but to take old Worthington’s hand. Richard never forgot the woman whose heart he yearned for—and now that he’s back, he’s not going to let her slip away again…

Praise for The Worthingtons series

“A classic Regency romp! Perfect for fans of Grace Burrowes.”—Caroline Linden, USA Today–bestselling author on When a Marquis Chooses a Bride

“Three Weeks to Wed is a delightfully heartwarming escape into the sparkling world of the Regency. Ella Quinn weaves magic.”—Cathy Maxwell, New York Times–bestselling author

Release date: February 28, 2017

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 85

Sample

Pulteney Hotel, London, 1815

“And this is Viscount Wolverton.” Patience Worthington watched as Almeria, Lady Bellamny, smiled as she introduced the gentleman to the Duchess of Bristol. Almeria turned her black eyes on Patience. The smile didn’t fade at all as she said, “Wolverton, I believe you have already met the Dowager Countess of Worthington.”

What in God’s name is he doing here? Patience inclined her head and held out her hand. “Indeed. The years have treated you well, my lord.”

Bowing, he took her fingers in his. “As they have done to you, my lady.”

His lips hovered over her hand and prayed he would do nothing more than kiss the air above them, but no. The devil pressed his warm, firm lips to her knuckles; even through her gloves she could feel his touch and fought the urge to suck in a breath. “Thank you, my lord.”

One would think after all these years and his betrayal she would be immune to him. And one would be wrong. She held her breath, counting—One, two, three, four, five. Thank God—until he finally straightened and returned her hand to her. Patience let out the breath, yet she could not control the pounding in her breast. It took all the control she had not to make an excuse and leave the room. Yet, she could not do that to Dotty Stern, soon to be the Marchioness of Merton.

“He has been a friend for a very long time,” Almeria continued, as if she had no idea of the havoc she had created by inviting Wolverton. “Though he hardly ever comes to Town.”

“Well, my dear,” Lord Bellamny said, “you couldn’t be here so often if it wasn’t for the help he gives me. Someone must assist me in my experiments.”

“Very true, my dear.”

Patience made the mistake of glancing up at the same moment Richard Wolverton stared down at her. His amber eyes smoldered as they had the last time she had seen him, only days before her marriage to the old Earl of Worthington.

Had he finally decided to take a wife? If so, it was about time. Her throat tightened as she thought of the young ladies who’d be happy to snatch up a handsome viscount. Well, it was no bread and butter of hers. He could wed whomever he wanted.

Well-bred chuckles by the other guests distracted her enough to drag her gaze from Wolverton’s. She had to get away from him. Fortunately, the next guests to arrive were Lord and Lady Thornhill. Dressed for once as if they actually belonged in England. Normally, they wore the raiment of the places they had visited.

Drat him. He’d stopped kissing her fingers but still had not let them go. Patience jerked her hand out of Wolverton’s grip and hastily made her way to her friends. “I am so glad to see you here.” Her voice sounded as if she had been running for miles. “What a lovely gown.”

“It is not in my usual mode, but I quite like it.” A faint line appeared between Lady Thornhill’s brows. “You seem a little out of sorts. Chaperoning young ladies can be very tiring, I’m sure.”

“Not at all.” Really, Patience had to calm herself. If only she had known he would be present, she could have prepared to see him again. “In truth, Worthington and his wife have taken them in hand. Which is a great relief to me as you must imagine.”

Lady Thornhill’s gaze did not leave Patience’s face. “I had wondered how you would like their marriage. It must be a huge change for you. All of you.”

“It is working out exceedingly well.” She flashed the other woman a smile. “Particularly for the children.” Her four girls and Grace’s seven brothers and sisters had taken to one another like ducks to water. Patience had heard stories of children not getting on with each other. Then again, they had all been properly raised, and wanted the best for their elder brother and sister.

“The numbers are not even,” the duchess announced, thankfully cutting short any further inquiries. Patience had barely had an opportunity to fully adjust to her new living arrangements in Stanwood House when Miss Dorothea Stern, the duchess’s granddaughter and a friend of Grace’s family, had come to visit for the Season. This evening was the betrothal ball for Dotty and the Marquis of Merton.

The duchess waved an imperious hand. “Some of you gentlemen will have to escort two of the ladies.” Focusing on Patience’s daughter Louisa, age eighteen, and Grace’s oldest sister, Lady Charlotte Carpenter, also eighteen, her grace raised a brow. “I did not wish to give any of the young gentlemen the idea they were being singled out for you younger ladies. Make them work for your affections. It is never good for a gentleman to be too sure of himself.”

Merton made his way quickly to his betrothed. Although he was a cousin of Worthington’s, Patience had not cared at all for the young man until he had met Dotty. Perhaps in some cases it was true that the woman made the man.

Not that Patience would know about that. Nevertheless, the pair was obviously in love, and it had turned out to be a good match.

She shifted her gaze to her stepson, Mattheus, Earl of Worthington, only to find him staring at Wolverton then at her.

Well, fiddlesticks! There was no hope now that Matt would not ask about the man. She would love to be able to tell him it was none of his business, but that was not and would never be the truth. Not only was he the sole guardian of her daughters, his half sisters, but she was living under his roof, or rather Grace’s. Which was the only way she could remain close to her children. Patience would never be allowed to remove the girls from his home.

Sometimes she wondered if her late husband had left the girls as wards of Matt so that Patience could never remarry. Yet, she doubted her late husband would have been deliberately cruel. His unkindness had been one of benign neglect, and an inability to love a woman other than his late wife, Matt’s mother. If only she had known that before she had wed him her life would have been much easier.

The duchess’s personal butler announced dinner, and Matt strode to his wife, who was standing not far from her. He took Grace’s arm, and was about to offer Patience his other arm when Wolverton appeared next to her. “Allow me, my lady.”

She could have screamed with frustration. His only purpose could be to complicate her life. “Thank you, my lord.” She was going to murder Almeria. “What brings you to Town?”

He must have slid a glance at her because the side of Patience’s face began to burn. As it had always done when he was staring at her. “You.”

Patience gasped. Not loudly, she was much too self-contained to draw attention to herself. But Richard could feel her pulse jump, and he was pleased that he still had the ability to shake her calm, to make her react to him. He wondered if her old husband had been able to command her attention in the same way. The corner. . .