Regina Scott - The Heiress's Homecoming

Terms of the Will

To keep her cherished childhood home, Samantha Everard must marry by her twenty-fifth birthday. Yet she refuses to marry on a whim, not even to save her fortune. When she returns to Dallsten Manor to say goodbye, the last person she expects to see is her handsome, disapproving neighbor William Wentworth, Earl of Kendrick.

Will is certain the scandalous Everard family is nothing but trouble. He shouldn’t care about Samantha’s predicament, but her feistiness and kindheartedness intrigue him—as does her refusal to wed. He wants to help, especially when he perceives the threat that surrounds her. Soon his greatest wish is to persuade Samantha that her true home is with him.

“You did not favor me with a dance last night. I hope you’ll save one for me at the party,” Lord Kendrick said.

“I will certainly see if I can find time for a dance,” Samantha promised. “But I expect to be very busy, my lord.”

“I thought all young ladies wished to dance with eligible earls.”

Did he consider himself eligible? She thought every lady within miles must be setting her cap at him. Given his history, she’d somehow considered him immune.

“I suppose they do,” she acknowledged. “But I have no interest in attaching eligible gentlemen. Thank you for your company, my lord. I should return home.”

He looked ready to protest, eyes narrowed, head high. But he nodded a farewell, and she turned the horse. She tried to look calm, but she couldn’t keep herself from looking back. Once more he was watching her leave, but this time the determination on his face told her that he intended to learn her secrets, whether she wished it or not.

REGINA SCOTT

started writing novels in the third grade. Thankfully for literature as we know it, she didn’t actually sell her first novel until she had learned a bit more about writing. Since her first book was published in 1998, her stories have traveled the globe, with translations in many languages including Dutch, German, Italian and Portuguese.

She and her husband of more than twenty years reside in southeast Washington State with their overactive Irish terrier. Regina is a decent fencer, owns a historical costume collection that takes up over a third of her large closet and is an active member of the Church of the Nazarene. You can find her online blogging at www.nineteenteen.blogspot.com. Learn more about her at www.reginascott.com.

The Heiress’s Homecoming

Regina Scott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways acknowledge Him,

and He will make your paths straight.

—Proverbs 3:5,6

To my mother, who carries her burdens with love, grace and determination; and to my

heavenly Father, who can carry all our burdens

in His capable hands, if only we remember to ask.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Cumberland, England

June 1813

Oh, but he needed a diversion.

William Wentworth, Earl of Kendrick, gazed about the crowded hall of his ancestral estate. Every member of the gentry for miles around had come to celebrate his son’s birthday with dinner and dancing. All but one member of the local aristocracy had also graced Kendrick Hall with their presence. Even though he had never met the missing Lady Everard, he was fairly certain she knew that any Everard was forever unwelcome in his home.

But his other guests did not seem distressed by her absence. They promenaded along the gilded walls, wandered out the three glass-paned doors to the terrace that ran along the back of the house and danced to the strains of a string quartet. The glow from the twin crystal chandeliers glinted off velvet, reflected off satin. Voices rose in conversation and good cheer. Yet Will kept remembering other balls, other dinners, some held far away, where jasmine scented the air. The memories made him long to pull off his dramatically tied cravat and dive into the pond behind the house to escape.

But tonight he must play host. After all, he had only a borrowed hostess. With a remarkable dearth of females in his family, he had had to prevail upon the kindness of his nearest respectable neighbor. He was merely glad that the elderly Mrs. Dallsten Walcott, who had known him since he was born, had been willing to help.

Still, he felt the breeze of fans plying as he gazed around the room, noted the speculative glances of a dozen ladies. They thought his long-awaited step into Society meant he was seeking to marry again. No chance of that. No reason. He had an heir, even if watching his seventeen-year-old son dance with Mrs. Dallsten Walcott made Will feel a great deal older than his thirty-five years.

Another reason he so badly needed a diversion.

Perhaps he should dance as well. Mrs. Dallsten Walcott was looking in his direction, lips pursed in determination. As the highest-ranking gentleman present, he supposed dancing was expected of him. But he had never done things simply because they were expected. Promenading held as little interest, and he knew engaging his neighbors in conversation was dangerous. After nearly a decade on the diplomatic circuit beyond the safe confines of Cumberland, Will had too many opinions that didn’t align with theirs.

So he held up the wall, arms crossed over his green wool coat, and watched as his fifty-some guests thoroughly enjoyed themselves. The gold candle sconce beside him gave back a warped picture of his face—dark wavy hair, thick slash of brows, forest-green eyes. He thought the frown was the most accurate.

He shook it off, forced a smile. He ought to be proud of this evening. Mrs. Dallsten Walcott had done a fine job. The music was elegant, the menu for the supper to come equally sophisticated. The parquet floor gave back a shine under the dancing slippers of his guests. Along each wall and the mantel of the marble fireplace, jade vases held gardenias from his conservatory, their perfume drifting through the hall.

But the fairest blossom was strolling down the opposite wall from him, her lithe figure reflected in the windows overlooking the terrace.

She had hair like the burnished gold of Egypt tumbling in curls behind her; skin like the palest ivory from Africa. In her cerulean satin gown, she reminded Will of sunlight on the Aegean Sea. She moved with the energy of sunlight, too, her steps sure and swift. The turn of her head told him she was looking for someone.

Will straightened off the wall. Who was she? He’d grown up knowing half the people in this room. The other half had either married into the Evendale valley or been born after Will had left at eighteen. Oh, how he hoped she wasn’t married. She was exactly the kind of diversion he needed.

He took a step forward, then stopped himself. What was he thinking? A lady should not be used as a diversion. How many times had he watched his brother make that mistake? A lady was meant to befriend, to serenade, to court. He never planned on courting again. He should allow her to find the person she was seeking and stop wishing it was him.