Amanda StoNeS
Historical Regency Romance Author
The Sworn Bachelor
On The List
First Chapters
Prologue
“Could you repeat that?” The dowager duchess asked with a strained voice the solicitor, who was mopping his brow in nervousness. “You have made a mistake, certainly. My husband – may he rest peacefully in his grave – would not have put such instructions in his will. It is absurd!”
Lady Clare, the Dowager Duchess of Tanmere, sat back in her chair with a huff, crossing her arms but not breaking eye contact with him.
Her son, Lord Douglas Merriton, Marquess of Tanmere, naturally the heir to the Dukedom of Redditch, felt hot and bothered and quite uncomfortable in the solicitor’s office. Apart from the case that there were no windows, it did not help his feeling of horror and his father’s injustice after hearing the will.
He stared at the man before him, who looked as old as seven and zero with tufts of white hair sitting on the top of his head and on the sides. He was perspiring considerably in the warm office. Douglas half smiled, thinking the solicitor wished his office had windows indeed!
“Please, will you reread the will,” Douglas asked, even though he knew in his heart what he heard was correct. “For Mother’s sake, perhaps there is a leeway somewhere. This cannot be it.”
“I am afraid to say that your father’s will is evident, Lord Tanmere. Lord Merriton had been a good friend of mine and a long-standing customer of this firm. I was the one who drew the will up, and therefore everything is correct. Your father has set an ultimatum that you must marry within thirty days to inherit his fortunes and estate. There is no mistake.”
“To inherit the dukedom, you must find a respectable lady of the ton and marry her of her own free will. And your father has given you only one month to do it,” the solicitor said.
Douglas stood up from his chair and held on to his chair, his knuckles entirely white by holding on too tightly. What would this mean to his two younger sisters if he did not find a wife in time? Hermoine, who was one and eight, was engaged to his best friend, Lord Martin Walker, Marquess of Quillery.
Penelope, who was seventeen, had just had her coming out ball. What future could he provide as a brother if he could not inherit the dukedom?
What a calamity it was; the ton would certainly laugh at his circumstance if this got out. But it should not, and he would assure it did not if only his mother could keep her mouth closed until matters were resolved, which would be until he found a wife. That seemed like an impossible task.
But why did his father put such a clause in his will? The old duke and he did not mainly get on, and nearly every few days, there would be some argument. He was called unreliable, unappreciative, lazy, and quite unconcerned about work. Was it only last week, just before he died, that they had argued?
“My health is failing, Douglas,” the duke said with contempt while Douglas was sitting at the dining table at breakfast with his mother and sisters. “The estate and my fortune will be yours, and you will have the responsibility to look after your mother and your sisters. Yet, you play around with unworthy women, do not seem to want to work or learn our business, and you are reckless with money. This will not do!” The duke coughed, and his wife patted his back quickly, giving her son unfavourable looks.
“Look at what you have done to your father, Douglas. He is concerned about your future, as we all are. You must be a man worthy of a good woman, a Lady to be your wife. Listen to your father, for I do not want him to fall ill anymore. I fear for his health.”
The Duchess wiped a tear away with her handkerchief.
“Father, I am sorry to be a disappointment to you. I do not mean to be frivolous with money. But neither do I want to be married yet. I am still youthful and wish to enjoy my life before I am bound by a marriage. I wish you would see that.”
The Duke laughed. “One day, when I am gone, you will find life is not as easy as you have it now.” He turned to his wife. “Now, my dear, I feel I need to rest. Please be a dear and help me to our bedchamber.”
“I will help, Papa,” Penelope said, casting dark glares at Douglas. He stared back as if to say, What have I done?
That night, the duke suffered a heart attack. His mother and sisters blamed his death on Douglas. Of course, he felt guilty. His father could still be alive today if he had not had that argument. But the doctor told him it was not the argument that caused the heart attack but his appetite for food. His heart could not stand the strain. He had been warned, but he did not listen.
Douglas still felt it was his fault. But today, instead of guilt, he felt anger. His old father had been talking about this clause in his will that morning, and he knew he was to die soon.
“Of course, I blame you,” his mother said, bringing his thoughts back to the solicitor’s office and the current situation. “You have endangered our family’s future! Did not your father insist you heed his good words to become responsible? Your father foresaw what your future would look like, and as much as I am astounded by his actions, I am certain it will make you take heed now. Now, find a wife and begin producing an heir. It is your obligation to carry on the family line. Hurry and find a suitable wife. I command it!”
“Madam, I would appreciate it if you and Lord Tanmere could discuss this at your residence. I do have another appointment to attend to in the next few minutes,” the solicitor said.
“Do not fret, Mr. Jenkins, my mother and I are leaving. And Mama, I refuse to be thrown into an impossible situation! The institution of marriage is one I am afraid I have to disagree with!”
Douglas, shaking with fury, stormed out, absolutely furious with his father for robbing him of his entitlement and his life.
Chapter One
Douglas stared at the grounds from his bedchamber. It was nine in the morning. He had not noticed before how vast the gardens were. The flowers and hedges were kept pruned to perfection, and the grass was cut to a specific length by the several garden keepers they hired. It was not a one-person job. His father had a stable on the estate and had a fountain built in the middle of the yard. But his estate did not stop there; the old duke also built two lakes, an indoor garden centre for his own use, and he also kept deer.
But Douglas was not interested in that and sometimes wondered why that was. Did he not like the things his father wanted? And why was he not concerned about his future welfare as he should be? Had he thought his father would live forever, thus he would not have to worry about financing the estate and looking after his sisters and mother?
He certainly felt a fool; perhaps he should have ignored his father’s words and not aggravated his condition. He did feel the guilt. But alas, there was nothing he could do now, and he knew he would have to carry that for the rest of his life.
His thoughts carried him on the journey home from the solicitor’s office. His mother refused to speak to him, and he did not feel like talking to her either. The atmosphere was certainly tense, which carried on until they reached the entrance to the house.
“We must speak to your sisters about this, Douglas, for it concerns their welfare now. Your father may have given them some money, but you will have to provide for them until they are both married. Douglas, I sincerely hope you will take your future seriously and do what is right for this family and yourself.”
The dowager duchess went into the house without a backward glance at her only son, leaving him entirely alone. He did not feel like going inside and facing the situation again with his sisters this time around and went for a promenade around the gardens. Although, nothing had changed, it was the very same area he was now looking from his bedchamber. He still had to find a wife, as impossible as it was. It was nearly impossible to find a suitable lady in thirty days and convince her to marry him. But he knew if he did not, he would not have a penny to his name, no title, and no dukedom. Somehow, he had to find a wife, and fast.
“Oh, how I wish I had listened to Papa and worked hard for him to put his trust in me.” He would not then put such a clause in his will. If only he could go back to that time! But what should he do now?
There was a knock on the door, “Brother, may we come in?”
Douglas sighed. “Yes, you may.”
Hermoine and Penelope came in and closed the door behind them. They did not seem to be their usual cheerful self.
“What is it? Pray, do tell,” he almost barked but reigned himself in to be calm. It was not their fault that their welfare was at stake. “I apologise. I do not mean to be rude.”
“Mama told us what happened at the solicitor’s office,” Penelope began.
“Of course, she did. And I would not be wrong in assuming she did not make excuses for me for being so flippant about it all?” Douglas raised his eyebrows.
“It is not your fault,” Hermoine said.
“Some of it is!” whispered Penelope, which Douglas heard clearly.
“Shhh!” Hermoine nudged her little sister.
“Do not rebuke her, Hermoine. She is right. It is all my fault that this happened. Father was right in doing what he did. I have no angst towards it.” That was a lie, of course, but he didn’t want his sisters to know how sorry he felt for himself.
“Is there anything we can do, Brother?” Hermoine asked.
She was the most sensible out of the three siblings, she cared for their parents, and for Douglas and Penelope too, almost like she was their mother. The dowager duchess doted on Hermoine and thought she were the perfect daughter whereas Penelope was too mischievous and impossible to handle. And now she refused to speak with Douglas until he showed his determination to find a wife.
“No, I am afraid there is not. But if you know anyone who would be willing to marry me… Perhaps make a list of anyone you know?” He laughed at his own humour. “I appreciate your help; it will not be easy to find that one special lady. It will all be fine. I will find a wife and I will inherit the estate and none of us will be desolate. Now leave me be while I think of a solution.”
Hermoine and Penelope kissed their brother on both cheeks and left as quietly as they came in. Douglas, feeling hopeless, lay down on his bed and closed his eyes briefly, indeed wondering his next move.
The next moment, he had it! Yes, why did he not think of it before? The one person he cared about from his friends, the one who was there for him, Lord Martin Walker.
He would not hesitate to assist him in looking for a wife. He was influential and knew many people of the ton perhaps more than he did, and they would know ladies who would also be looking for dukes and marquesses to marry, certainly. He was not only his friend but also was betrothed to his sister, Hermoine. It was a match that had taken him by surprise, but his sister was of age and she was smitten for him as he was for her. His father and mother were delighted and joyful at the announcement when Hermoine told her parents.
“Are you certain about this, Sister?” Douglas asked. “He is a little older than you. And yes, he is my friend and a respectable gentleman, but I still worry for you. Are you doing the right thing?”
“Yes, Brother. I love Lord Walker and I am assured he loves me too.”
“Then, I am happy for this liaison,” Douglas approved.
Douglas dashed to his writing table and wrote a quick letter asking for his friend to meet him at the gentleman’s club, where they met, had luncheon or dinner, and drank port on several occasions. He rang the bell and a footman appeared.
“I want this letter to be sent to the Marquess of Quillery immediately. And I want an answer straight away. Take a carriage and go at once.”
Douglas smiled and felt light relief now that he had come up with some plan. That should make his mother and sisters content.
***
The gentleman’s club was not so busy at this time of the afternoon. Douglas was grateful for that as he did not want anyone to listen to his problem- and to be secluded from the other men, he asked for a private room.
Martin met Douglas in the main drawing room.
“So, what is the urgency, my good friend?” he asked.
Martin was dressed in his finest charcoal Shaftsbury coat looking the most sophisticated of the men in the club, including himself.
“I have got us a private room where we can talk. It is quite a sensitive subject and I do not want anyone to know about.”
The men sat down opposite each other with a glass of port.
“Pray tell me, the mystery is killing me,” Martin urged his friend.
Douglas explained what happened at the solicitor’s and the clause his father put in his will.
“What a calamity it is!” Martin exclaimed. “This has not happened to anyone I am aware of.”
“Indeed, it is quite shameful for me and my family if anyone found out. We would be jeered at, laughed at. My poor mother cannot be humiliated like this, and I do hope that it will not interfere with your engagement to my sister,” said Douglas. “If I were to be left bereft, will you still marry Hermoine, dear friend?”
“But of course, without hesitation. To me she will still be my love and suitable to marry. My dear old mother and father love her already as a daughter.”
“But would they love her if they found out about my situation, that is what I fret of.”
“Do not worry, Douglas. You will find a wife and all will be well,” Martin said kindly. “Now, how do we solve this dilemma? What can be done?”
“As you know, I need a wife in thirty days. But not any wife, she has to be the perfect one,” Douglas began.
“Certainly,” Martin nodded his head.
More port was consumed and soon they became merry and a little drunk. Douglas was still sober enough to write, he decided.
“We shall make a list!” Douglas ordered some parchment, a quill and some ink. The instruments arrived promptly, he began to write.
“The woman I intend to marry must have certain qualities before I can consider her as a candidate. Now, let us see… She must be not be too short or tall, not too big or too thin. She must be attractive, I would like her to have her own hair and teeth.”
“Do women not have their own teeth now?” asked a bewildered Martin. He hiccuped.
“You would be surprised what they do not have! Now, I want her to have her own money, a comfortable dowry would be better… She must be quiet, not a chatterbox talking about hunting, shooting, shopping, bonnets or Parisian fashion, which I am told is one of the main conversations between women.”
“I believe I am aware of that,” Martin said. “Lady Hermoine does like to talk about that with our friends. I do not find it tolerable and with the other husbands, we walk away to talk about what men should talk about.”
“Quite!” agreed Douglas. “The woman I want must have read three books that are not novels and she must not bore me rigid. She must laugh at my humour, not drink too much at parties and I would prefer she didn’t talk much in the mornings. You know how I like my quiet mornings, Martin. And she must not keep wanting to sing to me or God forbid, want me to sing in public!”
Both men laughed at that last criteria for neither of them could sing at all. Douglas picked up the parchment and looked at it for a long time. “You do not think this is being unreasonable, do you?” He hiccuped now too, feeling the effect of the port taking over him.
“Not at all, it is the perfect list to find the woman you want as a wife. It is your right to declare what qualities you want in the one you choose. After all, you will be the one bound in a long marriage.”
“How do we do this?” Douglas realised he had a criteria for the perfect woman but had not got the foggiest idea on how to attract a lady.
“I believe the best strategy would be to attend as many balls and parties of the new Season, which fortunately for you, has already begun. Have you had any invitations as yet?”
“We have had several. My mother has replied to each of them of our confirmed attendance.”
“Excellent!” Martin clapped his hands in delight. “This will increase your chances to find a beautiful lady just as you wish.” He then smiled wickedly. “I do recall that you vowed to stay unmarried, did you not?”
“Oh, do stop!” Douglas frowned, feeling annoyed suddenly. “I would like to stay unmarried still if it were not my father’s clause. And I do not want to be a penniless miser.”
“Please do not take offence, I was only teasing you. But I will tell you one thing, my good friend. I will always be by your side. I will assure you that you will not be a pitiful and penniless old miser on my count.”
The men cheered to that.
“I am fortunate to have you as a friend, Martin. Between you and my sisters, who are helping me by coming up with a list of names of single ladies, I am certain to find her.”
With Douglas’ and his family’s future in the balance, he was sure everyone was desperate for him to succeed. Douglas & Martin wound up their meeting with another few drinks. Soon it was evening and time to go home.
“Now remember, Douglas, tomorrow evening is the first big ball of the Season. I shall see you there. Dress to please the women and they will come to you. You will see.”
Chapter Two
Ginette hummed to herself as she embroidered a sunflower into the canvas cloth. It was the middle of the afternoon and very peaceful sitting by herself in the drawing room. She and her family had arrived in London just a few days ago in time for the Season, which Ginette was looking forward to very much. Her first Season had been fabulous and she loved every minute of it.
The ton were talking about it too, and many eligible ladies had already set their eyes on who they wanted to dance with. They discussed Parisian fashion, something Ginette was curious about too. She had seen the dresses from Europe, which were worn widely among the wealthiest. She hoped to own a few dresses too. Perhaps she would ask her father about it. He never let her down as a child and gifted her beautiful dresses for her coming out ball. They were doing well financially, he had assured her.
Pausing briefly with her sewing, she daydreamed of her walking along the streets of Paris in a flowing, blue dress low cut just above the bosom. She was wearing the prettiest bonnet and lace gloves, holding an umbrella to shield the hot sun. Besides her, was a man worthy to be her husband one day.
She came back to the present with a sigh, it was a beautiful dream. One day she hoped to marry someone, a duke or a marquess perhaps who would take her on the Grand Tour. It was indeed a fashion to be seen in such high places. Some of her friends had already been on such journeys, which they could not stop talking about after their return. It made her feel quite envious. Still, she was only nineteen and she was certain she would marry soon and quite well.
Ginette’s peace was broken then when her mother, Lady Jean Saunders, Viscountess of Maybury, and her father, Lord Henry Saunders, Viscount of Maybury, arrived.
“There you are, dearest. I told you she would be here, Henry,” the viscountess said.
She sat opposite Ginette who knew quickly that something was not right. Her parents did not use the drawing room much these days as they preferred to visit their friends or people of the ton.
“Goodness gracious, are you feeling all right?” she asked.
“What do you mean by that?” her mother asked. She was a thin woman of fifty-five, and quite tall.
Ginette looked nothing like her who was of a slender build, with a small waist. Her hair was auburn with hints of the sun, and her complexion light and fresh.
“Do you not have any engagements today?” Ginette remarked. “It is not like you to be at home at this hour.”
“Not today,” her father spoke. He was a tall man with lots of hair on his head. Some say he looked stern, but to Ginette he was a loving and kind father, who would do anything for her. But his face seemed to be grave.
“What is the matter?” she asked cautiously.
“I am afraid we have some news that you will find unfavourable, my dear. And we are very sorry,” her mother said. “What we are about to say… I hope you will understand.”
“Pray, what could be so awful? Has someone died, has there been an accident?”
“Well no. No one has died and there has been no accident. This would be much simpler to tell if that were the case,” the viscount said.
“It is all right, I will tell her. Ginette, dear, we are in unfortunate state financially. We do not have much money at this moment and we will have to stop living luxuriously as we have done. I am sorry to tell you but this will be your last Season.”
“But… it is my only second Season!” Ginette exclaimed. She dropped her sewing to the carpeted floor as she stood up, not caring about it now. “Are you certain, Father? How have we come to this? Why have we no money? Please make me understand.”
Her parents looked at each other anxiously.
“One of the banks we do business with has folded. They had underwritten a lot of banknotes it seems and we had a lot of money invested. Thankfully it was not all the money, but a significant amount that has devastated us.”
The viscount looked around the drawing room. “I do not know how we will be able to sustain this house and may have to sell. As for now, we will be letting go of some of the household and we will only be using two floors, closing the third floor and the attic.”
“It will be a big adjustment to our living standards for some time,” her mother continued from her husband. “And we are all affected by it. We will make the money back, darling, but it will take us time. We will not be able to afford any more new dresses for the ball and you will have to make do with what you have already.”
“I have only old ones from last Season, Mama. I will be laughed at if I wear the same gowns!”
“Do not be haste, we have bought you a few new dresses. Yes, I agree it is not enough for the whole Season. You will have to improvise and wear it again,” Lady Saunders said weakly. “Your father and I will also be wearing our old gowns and jackets.”
“Ginette, there is one other thing,” Lord Saunders said. “We want you to find a suitor immediately while we can still guarantee your dowry, otherwise we can find one for you. The choice is there.”
“I cannot and will not accept this. How can I find a suitor so quickly? Is it problematic for me to stay unmarried for a while? I am only nine-and-ten, Father. I wish to not marry yet out of desperation and I prefer to love the man I will eventually be with forever.”
“Sit down dear, we are not proud of this and we too want you to marry out of love. We are just unable to know how long we can hold your dowry and may have to spend it to keep this house running.”
Ginette did not sit down but pursed her lips, trying not to cry. Her parents left after telling her that they have no choice. Ginette watched them walk out of the room, her heart breaking.
How could this happen?
***
The weather turned from sunshine to grey clouds just as she was peaceful one moment, and the next she was distraught and felt utmost despair. The shimmer of a grey lake pleased her as ripples spread from one drop of rain.
The breeze turned slightly cooler as she decided to promenade around the lake. It was not large as most other London estates, but she was content that her home had a lake. In times of inner turmoil, she would often seek solace by taking her boat out onto the water. However, on this occasion, she found herself desiring a leisurely stroll instead, as the rain began to fall lightly, just enough to cause a slight inconvenience to her.
Above her she watched the trees sway and rustle against the wind as she walked wrapping her shawl around her shoulders tightly. Remembering the conversation in the drawing room just a few moments ago caused her pain yet again. Had she been spoilt by her parents to feel this way? Certainly, the poor did not have luxuries and neither did the working class. Yet, they were content and perhaps even happy with what they had. Ginette did not like who she had become, definitely not. But that did not mean she should settle for a husband of her parent’s choosing.
She had dreamt to find a man whom she would love. He had to care for her, be kind, and able to look after her needs financially and personally. She was yet quite young and not in a hurry to marry, at least in her head. Her parents would choose a man who perhaps was quite old in respect to her age. She had heard stories where young women were being married off to old gentlemen who only wanted an heir, not a wife. They had married before and their previous wives had died, and were therefore on the lookout for another. These men had not forgotten their one true love.
How then, could she marry someone like that if her parents indeed found someone as vile as them? Ginette shuddered. No, she would not accept it and she would find a suitable gentleman herself. Taking the route away from the lake, she found her way to the stables. Being near her mare she always felt relief and comforted.
“Bring Lucie out,” she said to the stable boy. “I wish to ride.”
“But Miss Saunders, it is raining and the path will be quite uneven and muddy,” said the stable boy. “I don’t think it would be best…”
“I am not asking your opinion. If you shall not bring her out, I will do it myself.” Ginette didn’t wait for the stable boy’s answer and went straight to her horse.
The rain was coming down faster and harder, but she hardly cared. She rode her horse down the path and into the open fields not far from the estate. The truth was that she wasn’t really experienced in horse riding but yet nothing could stop her now. With the wind in her hair, she felt free and wild. She felt water on her face, was it her tears or the sting of the wind with the rain, she was unsure. Urging the horse to go faster, Ginette felt like all her woes had disappeared. But in her heart, she knew it was not so. Turning the horse around, she rode back into London and towards her friend’s house. With the rain, the roads and streets were empty. No one saw her in this state.
“Woah, Lucie.” She commanded her horse to stop. She gave her friend’s stable boy her horse, and then she rang the bell. She shivered on the doorstep dripping.
Moments later, she was dry in her friend’s dress, sitting by the lit fireside drinking a hot beverage.
“What a state to find you in, dear friend,” Lady Masie Burrows, daughter of the Earl of Whitton said and took her hands and rubbed them until they came back from cold to warm. “I cannot believe you rode all the way here and in this rain. What has come over you?”
“Oh, I cannot think where to begin, Masie. Such a terrible thing has befallen on me.”
“I would like to hear it. Perhaps I will be able to help,” Masie said kindly.
“I am hoping you will,” Ginette sniffed feeling sorry for herself.
She told her friend about her parent’s financial situation, making sure not to say too much. She trusted Masie, but she knew the household would hear. They probably were listening now and everything would then spread. She could not take any risks.
“Masie, they have told me this is my last Season and they want me to find a suitor quickly. How is this possible? I am not against marriage and I do want to marry. Only, I thought I would have plenty of time to find my true love.”
“Oh dear, that is a dilemma. What an awful position to be in. However, my dear, do not fret. The Season is just beginning and there are many eligible men to choose from. I believe you can find at least one suitor good enough for you to marry.” Masie smiled at her giving her hope. “Tonight you will stay here. I will send word to your family where you are.”
***
After dinner, the two friends sat in the library. It housed an impressive volume of books and papers, which Masie’s father had collected over the years. In time, he gave her the responsibility to look after his beloved library and she took to finding unusual periodicals. Her father was quite proud of her whereas her mother did not like it at all. It was a waste of time!
Ginette couldn’t enjoy the ambiance of the room this evening though. She still fretted about her immediate future and how badly her life could spiral if she did not find a husband soon. She did not look forward to going back home either tomorrow.
“Are you still worried, Ginette dear?” Masie asked as she took a book down.
“I do feel quite enraged with my parents, but I have been considering something.”
“This sounds intriguing. Pray, do tell me.”
“I plan to find a suitor who would be acceptable to them. The man would only be a ruse until I find someone I really do love. I would court him for a while, and then break up with him,” Ginette declared.
Masie frowned, “Is that wise to hoodwink your own parents? It is unladylike and you would never do such a thing.”
“Indeed, I know. But what else can I do? I do not want to marry someone they choose for me. I am hoping that if my parents saw I have found a suitor, they will leave me in peace and not harass me if only for a little while. It would give me some time to find my true love by the end of the Season.”
“I see that but I also see that your plan may not work and things could go quite badly wrong. You may end up marrying your parent’s choice. I pray that you think about this more before the Season begins,” Masie advised.
“Do not worry, dear Masie. I believe this will work for me. Will you be a dear and help me?”
“Of course, I will,” Masie smiled. Her face brightened in the light. “I have an idea. Will you let me lend you my new dresses for the Season? No one has seen them and I can buy more for myself. I would love to dress you.”
“You are so kind. Of course.” Ginette smiled gratefully at her friend who had come through for her and embraced her. “I do not know what I would have done without you.”
“That is settled then!”
During the next hour, they discussed how to go about finding a suitor.
“I believe the best approach would be to attend as many of the Season’s events as you can. I will ask Mother for a list of names of eligible men to begin with. How amusing that shall prove to be! Now, there is no time left as the first ball is tomorrow. We will go together.”
That night as Ginette settled down to sleep, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. She was not a bad person and under normal circumstances, she would never have thought of such a scheme. She hoped her plan would work for her. If it didn’t… She played Masie’s words in her mind, she may have to marry someone of her parent’s choice. She could not let that happen. She took a deep breath; the next day would be the first day of the Season and she would find a suitor.