Nicola Cornick - An Unlikely Suitor

Lavender glared at him. “It was not my intention to bribe or to blackmail. You know that.”

Barnabas laughed. “Do I? It seems that I do not know you quite as well as I had imagined. But that can be remedied….”

Lavender realized that he was about to kiss her. Yet she did not draw back from him. She felt him pull her against him. His hands were hard on her slender frame, but when his lips touched hers they were gentle. Lavender felt her bones melt.

When he let her go, the sensual excitement was fizzing through her blood like wine. For a moment she could remember nothing of where she was. She put out a hand to him and he pressed a kiss on the back before letting it go.

“I must go. Forgive me….”

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Nicola Cornick for her contribution to THE STEEPWOOD SCANDAL series.

became fascinated with history when she was a child and spent hours poring over historical novels and watching costume drama. She still does! She has worked in a variety of jobs, from serving refreshments on a steam train to arranging university graduation ceremonies. When she is not writing, she enjoys walking in the English countryside, taking her husband, dog and even her cats with her. Nicola loves to hear from readers and can be contacted by e-mail at ncornick@madasafish.com and via her Web site at www.nicolacornick.co.uk.

Lord Ravensden’s Marriage, by Anne Herries

An Innocent Miss, by Elizabeth Bailey

The Reluctant Bride, by Meg Alexander

A Companion of Quality, by Nicola Cornick

A Most Improper Proposal, by Gail Whitiker

A Noble Man, by Anne Ashley

An Unreasonable Match, by Sylvia Andrew

An Unconventional Duenna, by Paula Marshall

Counterfeit Earl, by Anne Herries

The Captain’s Return, by Elizabeth Bailey

The Guardian’s Dilemma, by Gail Whitiker

Lord Exmouth’s Intentions, by Anne Ashley

Mr. Rushford’s Honor, by Meg Alexander

An Unlikely Suitor, by Nicola Cornick

An Inescapable Match, by Sylvia Andrew

The Missing Marchioness, by Paula Marshall

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

September 1812

‘Just how many pairs of gloves does a lady need, Lavender?’ Caroline Brabant asked her sister-in-law.

The two of them were sitting in the library at Hewly Manor, a long elegant room lined with walnut bookshelves that the Admiral, Lavender’s father, had stocked with all manner of fascinating collections from his travels abroad. Caroline was reclining on the sofa and Lavender had just finished reading aloud to her from Sense and Sensibility, a novel of manners and morals that they were both enjoying.

Lavender looked up from the book. Caroline’s query sounded idle but Lavender knew that she seldom asked pointless questions. Nor, being a lady of quality, did Caroline need Lavender’s advice on matters of elegance. There had to be another reason for the question…

‘I am not sure, Caro,’ she began carefully. ‘Three or four, perhaps? A best and second best pair and a pair for evenings—’

Caroline sighed and put aside her magazine. ‘Hammonds the drapers must find you quite their best customer then,’ she observed gently, ‘for by my calculations, you have bought no less than six pairs of gloves in the last quarter alone!’

Lavender avoided her eyes. Caroline was disconcertingly shrewd.

‘If not gloves then bonnets, scarves or materials…’ Caroline was saying now. ‘Have all your clothes worn out at the same time, Lavender?’

Lavender jumped up and crossed to the library window. Dusk was falling across Hewly Manor gardens and it was time to light the candles. She kept her back to Caroline and tried to speak casually.

‘You know how it may be, Caro…’ She was proud of the lightness of her tone. ‘Sometimes everything seems to need replacing at once! Now that it is autumn again I find I have a need for some new items, warmer clothes to suit the weather—’ She broke off, aware that she was starting to ramble and sure that she could feel Caroline’s intent gaze riveted on the back of her head. Usually she was delighted to have Caroline’s companionship and felt that her brother Lewis could not have made a better match. Usually, but not today. Not when Caroline was in the kind of mood to press her on her new-found interest in drapery.

‘I think I shall take a walk before dark,’ she said hastily, feeling the need to escape Caroline’s shrewd eye. ‘I have the headache and a brisk stroll around the gardens may help…’

Caroline picked up the needlework that lay beside her on the rose brocade sofa. ‘Very well. I shall not offer to accompany you, for I find I tire so easily these days.’ She tilted her head to consider the baby clothes that she was embroidering with such enviable skill. ‘I believe I shall be in need of some more thread tomorrow. Perhaps you would be so good as to walk into Abbot Quincey and purchase some for me, Lavender?’

Lavender shot her a suspicious look, but Caroline’s face was serene as she bent over her work. Now that she was increasing, there was an air of contentment about her that Lavender thought was even more marked than in the first days of her marriage to Lewis. Unfortunately for Lavender, Caroline’s pregnancy had affected neither the quickness of her mind nor her powers of observation.

Lavender closed the library door softly behind her. She could hear a bell ringing in the depths of the house as Caroline called for the candles to be lit, and a housemaid scurried out of the servants’ quarters, dropped Lavender a curtsey and gave her a smile, before hastening to do the mistress’s bidding. Lavender had been quick to see that all the servants liked Caroline. There was such an air of peace about Hewly these days, though Caroline joked that all that would be ruined once the baby was born.

Lavender went to fetch her coat and boots from the garden room. The house was spick and span, though giving the impression of being a little frayed at the edges. There was little spare money for refurbishment, for Lewis was ploughing it all back into the estate in order to repair the neglect of the last few years. Lavender did not mind—she found Hewly’s worn elegance comforting and tasteful, and besides, she knew that whilst they were still in mourning for her father it would not be appropriate to begin a major restoration. Lewis had hinted that they might go up to Town the following autumn, but Lavender hoped that they would not. She had endured one tedious London Season four years before and had no wish to be bored by another. Yet it did raise the spectre of her future, for now that Lewis was married and with a family on the way she did not wish to hang on his coat-tails. Neither he nor Caroline would ever give the impression that she was an unwelcome third, but even so…

Lavender went out of the front door and paused for a moment on the gravel path, trying to decide which way to go. Before her, the formal parterre led to the walled gardens and beyond that to the orchard. She could see the moon rising through the branches of the apple trees. She drew on one of the many pairs of gloves that Caroline had referred to, and started to walk along the path.

Perhaps, Lavender thought as she walked, she could become one of those redoubtable maiden aunts upon whom every family depended. As Lewis and Caroline’s brood expanded she could be an additional nursery nurse and governess, indispensable to servants and family alike. Everyone would remark on how good she was with the children and how they doted on her. As she grew older she could become eccentric, buy herself a cottage and keep cats. She would have her painting and her botany…