His Reluctant Lady
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Authors: Ruth Ann Nordin
His
Reluctant
Lady
Ruth Ann Nordin
His Reluctant Lady
- Smashwords Edition
Published by Ruth Ann Nordin at
Smashwords
Copyright © 2013 by Ruth Ann
Nordin
All rights reserved. No part of this
book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in
writing from the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is
entirely coincidental.
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Notes:
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Cover Photo images Copyright
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permission.
Coming Soon: The Earl’s Scandalous
Wife
List of Romances by Ruth Ann
Nordin
Dedication:
To
Tammy Thompson for being so sweet. Thanks for all you
do!
Chapter One
June 1815
“
You have no fun. No fun at
all.”
Agatha Lyons, the Lady of Richfield,
turned from the window of her family’s townhouse so she could face
her younger sister. “I have no need to go to a ball. I have other
matters to tend to.”
And those matters happened to be much
more entertaining than spending the evening exchanging pleasantries
with gentlemen and ladies who pranced about on a floor, trying to
impress others, especially those with influence or
money.
Agatha reluctantly left the window and
sat next to her sister on the settee. “Sophie, I’m a widow. I have
no need to attend a Season.”
“
You’re only
twenty-one.”
“
Can I help it if my husband
died the day after we married?”
Truly, she’d done her duty as his wife
and tried to prevent his death. She told him that riding the horse
when it was raining was a bad idea, but since he considered her
feminine mind much too stupid for common sense, he ran off on the
stallion anyway. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, he rode through
the muddy terrain which was on a slope. Agatha shrugged and picked
up her teacup. Not that she was overly sad by the news of his
passing, but it wasn’t easy to think she’d married such a
dullard.
Sophie groaned and faced her. “Your
husband’s been dead for two years. You’re allowed to marry
again.”
She almost spit out her drink. After
she forced the hot liquid down, she coughed into a cloth napkin.
When she was assured she wouldn’t cough anymore, she shook her
head. “I’m not getting married again.”
“
Why not?”
“
Because I enjoy my freedom.
As a widow, I get to handle money as I see fit, and I don’t need to
be coddled all the time by chaperones. Plus, I get to live in my
own townhouse when I’m in London and at my own estate while in the
country. I don’t have to answer to anyone. I’m free to do what I
want.”
Sophie sighed and placed her hands in
her lap. “I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you get
lonely?”
“
No.” And that was the
truth. She had too many adventures to live out on paper to ever be
lonely…or bored.
“
You must come with me to
Lord Roderick’s ball tonight. Please?”
“
Now we get to the reason
you requested to see me today. Let me guess. You have no chaperone
to go with you?”
Sophie twiddled her thumbs, a nervous
habit she acquired as a child. “All right. I do. But it’s our
second cousin.”
Agatha grimaced. “Not
Bridget.”
“
I’m afraid so.”
“
Oh dear.”
“
Oh dear, indeed!” she
heartily agreed. “I can’t go with her. You know how embarrassing
she is.”
“
She doesn’t mean to be. But
you’re right. It won’t do you any good to go with her.” Between the
snorting laughter and tendency to ramble on about utter nonsense,
gentlemen would be fleeing from Sophie. With a resigned sigh,
Agatha relented. “I’ll act as your chaperone.”
“
Thank you!” Sophie embraced
her.
“
But I’m not going to take
this opportunity to look for a husband, so you better not hint at
it.”
“
I won’t. I
promise.”
“
Good because if you do,
I’ll talk Bridget into chaperoning you at the next
ball.”
Sophie shivered. “There’s no need to
threaten me. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Satisfied, Agatha nodded and finished
her tea. “I suppose in the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt to do a
little shopping.”
“
Where did you want to
go?”
“
I was thinking of going
to
Harding, Howell & Company. I
need
a french clock for my desk. We can get
something for you as well. Would you like a new muslin?”
“
I wouldn’t mind it, if
you’re sure.”
“
Of course, I’m sure. I have
more than enough money, and what good is money if I can’t spend it
on those I love?”
Sophie smiled and set her teacup down.
“You’re the sweetest sister I have.”
With a smile, Agatha said, “I’m the
only sister you have.” She rose to her feet and grabbed her
reticule. “I hope you don’t mind if I stop by The Temple of the
Muses on our way there.”
“
Don’t you already have
enough books?”
“
I don’t always go to buy a
book. Sometimes I go there to browse what they have.” She led her
sister out of the drawing room and instructed the footman to tell
the coachman they would be going out for the afternoon.
Turning to Agatha, she shook her head.
“I’ll never understand your fascination with books. All you ever do
is read.”
“
I’m not reading now, am
I?”
“
All right, you’re not. I
just meant that you could do more living and less
reading.”
“
Is that why you’re dragging
me to this ball tonight? So I can get my nose out of a
book?”
As the butler handed them their hats,
her sister said, “No. It’s because I don’t want our cousin to be
with me. But getting you away from a book is a good
reason.”
“
Reading is a wonderful
venture, Sophie. You should try it sometime. You can be anyone you
want to be and go anywhere you want to.”
“
You have more than enough
money to travel all over if you desire.”
“
And I do. I choose to do it
through reading.”
Sophie laughed and put her hat on. “The
next thing I know, you’ll be telling me you write them, too. Good
heavens, if you do that, we’ll never get you out of this
townhouse.”
Agatha forced a smile and settled her
hat on her head. Not only would her family be dismayed to learn she
did, indeed, write books, but she also wrote gothic horror which
was even worse in their estimation. At least Agatha knew how to
keep a secret, and her writing was a secret she’d take to her
grave.
***
Agatha adjusted her mustache and
watched her pace as she walked down the street. If she wasn’t
careful, she’d give her enthusiasm away and draw undue attention to
herself. Even if she was disguised as a young gentleman, she’d
never live down the scandal if the Ton found out. But she was
determined to do this. She couldn’t afford to be seen with her
manuscript, nor could she afford to go to Lord Edon’s townhouse for
fear his wife learned about her writing.
No. This must be kept a secret, even if
risking discovery while in disguise was something she was willing
to bear for the chance of publication. She slowed her steps as she
approached the Western Exchange. Ignoring the merchants who stood
at the booths to sell their wares, she scanned the crowd for any
signs of Ethan Silverton, the Earl of Edon. He promised he’d meet
her at two, and she was a few minutes early.
Releasing her breath, she tried to act
as casual as possible as she sauntered by the booths. She had to do
something or else she’d start fretting over all the things that
could go wrong. If the publisher didn’t like the manuscript, he
didn’t like the manuscript. There was little she could do about it
except write another one and see if he’d accept it. She’d been
through the process twice before, but each time still gave her the
same queasy sensation in her stomach.
She scanned the crowd again for Ethan,
and not paying attention to what was in front of her, she bumped
into someone. “Pardon me,” she mumbled, not remembering to lower
her voice.
Her face grew warm and she looked at
the gentleman she’d bumped into. Did she speak loud enough for him
to realize she was a lady?
“
I’m terribly sorry, sir,”
the young gentleman said and bowed. “I wasn’t watching where I was
going.”
After clearing her throat, she lowered
her voice. “I wasn’t either.”
He glanced at the papers in her arms.
“Are you looking for quills and ink? Two booths over that way,
there are some good sets. I bought some from the gentleman in the
past.”
She didn’t bother looking at the booth
he motioned to. “No. I got enough quills and ink.” And that was the
truth. Her desk was full of them…and paper.
“
Before I forget my manners,
I’m Mister Robinson.”
“
Oh, uh, I’m Mister
Horlock.” Gilbert Horlock, to be exact. At least, that was the name
she used on her manuscripts, and since she was disguised as a
gentleman, it only seemed fit to refer to herself as such. Not
wanting a prolonged discussion with him in case he figured out she
wasn’t really a gentleman, she got ready to wish him luck in
whatever he was doing for the day when she caught sight of
Ethan.
Mister Robinson followed her gaze and
gestured a greeting to him.
She glanced from him to Ethan. “Do you
know him?”
“
Yes. That gentleman tells
some of the best jokes.”
“
So I hear.”
She hadn’t been privy to
some of the wild tales Ethan made up since he had a tendency to
only tell them in the company of gentlemen. No. Her thing was to
send anonymous tips to the
Tittletattle
about things Ethan never
did but wanted everyone to think he did. However, since he got
married to Lady Catherine, he hadn’t requested she submit anything
else to the gossip papers on his behalf.