A Lady's Prerogative Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  A Lady’s Prerogative

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  SURPRISE BONUS CHAPTER!

  A word from the author…

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Also available from The Wild Rose Press, Inc. and other major retailers

  The windows glowed,

  and piano music drifted out into the night. Natalie stopped and let out a wistful sigh.

  “You are very lucky, you know.” She sounded serious again.

  Garrett thought he’d misheard her for a moment. “Pardon?”

  “I said you are really quite lucky.”

  He had not misheard. “How is that?”

  “If you were a woman and you acted with such disregard toward society”—she slanted him a sideways and disapproving glance—“as you have, there would be no second chances for you. A lady could never act as a rake and be forgiven.” She slipped his jacket off and handed it back to him. He looked down at the jacket, not sure what she expected him to do with it.

  “Take it. I am fine now. I will enter through the back, and you may use the front door. It is best nobody knows we spent so much time together, alone.”

  He took the jacket, not bothering to slip it back on. He just stood there dumbfounded, watching her. “Why would a lady wish to play the part of a rake?” he couldn’t help asking. Was she referring to herself?

  The girlish sparkle disappeared from her eyes, and a bleak longing replaced it.

  A Lady’s Prerogative

  by

  Annabelle Anders

  Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 2

  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 actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Lady’s Prerogative

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 by Annabelle Anders

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Tea Rose Edition, 2018

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-2069-4

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-2070-0

  Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 2

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To my husband,

  who reads my work (under duress)

  but provides suggestions and encouragement.

  And to my mom,

  who is my best beta reader and cheerleader!

  Chapter One

  May 1824

  Less than twenty-four hours ago, Lady Natalie Spencer had been an engaged lady—a future duchess. Today she was the object of London’s latest scandal. And on this particular morning, the esteemed daughter of the Earl of Ravensdale was like any other girl, awaiting her father’s punishment and the lecture he was sure to dole out.

  For yesterday, only one week before the wedding, she’d broken off her engagement to the Duke of Cortland. Despite the extenuating circumstances, she was a jilt. It was time to face the music. Her parents had demanded her presence in the study first thing this morning. After handpicking and then practically courting the duke himself, her father was none too happy.

  Natalie’s maid, Mrs. Tinsdale, helped her dress for the occasion with care, admonishing her to not appear overly pleased nor terribly distraught. The day dress they settled on was well cut but unimaginative, fashioned from a dull lavender muslin. It was a gown a lady might wear if she were in half-mourning. Natalie’s blonde hair was pulled back from her face, braided tightly, and wound about her head. With the accentuated paleness of her face and the circles under her eyes, Natalie felt her appearance was appropriate for the solemn mood the occasion demanded. Over and over, Tinsdale urged Natalie to try to be demure. “For your own sake, dearie,” she said.

  And so Natalie sat straight backed, with her feet flat on the floor and her knees pressed together. Twisting her hands in her lap, she took a deep breath when Lord and Lady Ravensdale stepped in and quietly closed the door behind them.

  Her father’s presence filled the room. He did not sit but stood behind his imposing desk, hands clasped behind his back. Her mother dropped into the chair adjacent to Natalie’s. Thank heaven her mother was not the vaporish sort! Her father did not require further aggravation.

  Following Natalie’s emotional outburst the previous day, his lordship had promised she would be held accountable this morning. Her mother shrugged and smiled tentatively in encouragement. Her father cast his eyes downwards and scowled.

  “Well, my girl,” her father began, using his very serious voice (the one he used when he wished to inflict the greatest amount of guilt on one of his children). “I am none too pleased at the disgrace you’ve brought upon your family. What in God’s name were you thinking? You promised yourself to the duke! I expect a daughter of mine to keep her promises.” With a quick glance at her mother, he asked, “Has notice of the broken engagement been sent to all the papers?”

  In her normal calm and efficient manner, Mama responded, “First thing this morning, dear.”

  Lord Ravensdale nodded before turning his attention back to his daughter. “We will remove you from society for what remains of the Season and then confine you at Raven’s Park for the summer. There will be no house parties for you, young lady. No traveling. No suitors and no balls—not even country assemblies.”

  “But Papa—”

  Her mother broke in to reassure her, “But it is believed, Natalie, by Aunt Eleanor and me, that if you remain above reproach this summer, you may participate in the Little Season this autumn. Then, assuming you behave properly of course, you may take up your position, once again, in society next spring. With your dowry, there will be no shortage of suitors, darling. I have no concerns on that point.”

  Hearing mention of the dowry, her father winced. “Cortland won’t sue for breach of contract. A saving grace, for certain.” Lord Ravensdale’s voice was less cajoling than his wife’s. “But you must regain the approval of the ton if we’re ever to land you a husband half as suitable as the duke.” An expression akin to physical pain crossed her father’s features. He was undeniably very sorry to
have lost the Duke of Cortland as a son-in-law. “A perfect match broken—such a shame.” And then recalling his previous train of thought he continued, “Otherwise, I could not care less what those old biddies think.”

  “Broderick.” Her mother shot the earl a warning look.

  Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. “What I would like to know, daughter, is why you consented in the first place. I had always thought you were a young lady who knew her own mind.” Before she could begin to answer, he went right on speaking. “Your indecisiveness has wasted a great deal of time and money for the duke, the solicitors, myself, and your mother. In addition to all of that, you have tarnished your reputation and the good name of this family. I chose a man who would treat you well, a man I could trust. By jilting him, you’ve made me look a fool! What were you thinking, girl?” In the midst of his tirade, he began pacing. And then, clenching his jaw, he ceased moving and fell silent.

  Natalie stared at her father innocently. She did not feel guilty for her decision, only the timing of it.

  “Do you wish for me to answer your questions, Father, or are they rhetorical?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I would have an answer,” he said curtly. Her tone had obviously not pleased him.

  Summoning a meeker countenance, Natalie schooled her features and stared solemnly at the colorful rug upon the floor. “I accepted the duke’s proposal, Father, because I did not wish to disappoint you.” She raised her gaze to his face and pouted. “At the time, it all felt very sensible. Father chooses a governess; I mind my governess. Father says I am to have my come out; I make my entrance in society. Father chooses me a husband; I marry the husband. But a marriage is not the same thing, is it?” She held her eyes wide as she pleaded with her father. “It is not! And the wedding date was getting closer and closer and I…” She swallowed a not entirely feigned sob. “I did not want to disappoint you, but I could not go through with it. Marriage is for life. I want to love my husband, just as you love Mother.” She looked over at her mother. “And just as Mother loves you.”

  She could hardly blame her father for feeling thwarted. She had consented, after all, when the duke proposed—despite her reservations.

  Like a child, she’d been more concerned with pleasing her papa than considering her future as the Duchess of Cortland. The farce of her engagement had proceeded far too long. Any longer and she might have jilted him at the altar. That would not have gone over well.

  And then she thought of Lilly. “Would you have me marry a man who is in love with another woman, Papa?” Natalie dared ask. She was not the only one at fault. Why must she take all the blame?

  Her father’s voice thundered. “He is a man of honor. We had already signed the contracts. It would not have been an issue.” He did not appreciate it when his children challenged his decisions—especially if said child was his only daughter.

  Natalie took a breath to argue further, but her mother put out a hand and interjected.

  “What the duke would or would not have done is not our concern. Our concern is restoring Natalie’s reputation and moving beyond this scandal.” Her mother’s voice had a calming effect on the earl, but Natalie’s eyes still glared defiantly.

  After an uncomfortable silence, her father cleared his throat. “Very well.” But he continued his tirade. “We shall leave for Raven’s Park immediately following Joseph’s nuptials. At least all the money I’ve put out for the ceremony and reception will not go to waste.” Late last night, it had been decided that Natalie’s brother, recently engaged himself, would utilize the church on the date Natalie and the duke were to have been married.

  “Is that all then, Father?” Natalie stood, ready to escape, hoping the interview was concluded.

  “It is not. Sit back down. I’ve a few rules you will follow until we leave London.” Not giving in to the urge to sigh loudly, Natalie dropped back into her seat and made herself comfortable. Demure, be demure.

  Her father and mother then listed a litany of requirements to be adhered to in order to minimize her social fallout.

  She was to remain in the townhouse unseen for the entire week while they awaited Joseph’s wedding, the wedding that was to have been her own.

  She was not to go shopping.

  She was not to go to Gunter’s with her friends.

  She was not to receive any visitors.

  Nor write any letters.

  In no uncertain terms, she was to be kept out of the public eye until they departed for London.

  Surely she could not stay locked inside for the entire week! As her father’s little princess, Natalie usually was able to soften her father up when he was angry. And she needed some sort of freedom for goodness sake! That being said, it took her a considerable amount of beseeching for him to relent. Eventually, he gave her permission to take one thirty-minute walk per day, in Hyde Park, with her chaperone, in the morning hours only.

  She was not to stop.

  She was not to converse with anyone.

  She was not to extend the thirty minutes to thirty-two minutes or even to thirty-one minutes. If she did not follow these rules exactly, she would lose this privilege as well.

  With that settled, Natalie sought one more concession. “May I attend the wedding?” Despite her extreme reluctance to be in the church on that particular day, she could not imagine missing Joseph’s wedding.

  Her father looked to his wife for her opinion.

  “The ceremony, I think,” Mother said, “but not the breakfast.”

  They all sat without speaking for several moments, the rhythmic ticking of the ancient long-case clock the only sound in the room. Containing her desire to escape for as long as possible, Natalie waited two whole minutes before speaking. “May I be excused now, Papa?”

  With narrowed eyes, her father pointed one finger at her. “You had better not disobey me! I will have your complete obedience, Natalie. And lest you find yourself tempted, remember your aunt Mary lives in Scotland and I am not opposed to sending you up there for a year or two, if necessary.”

  Of course he would never do such a thing!

  “Yes, Papa.” Natalie rushed around the desk to kiss her father’s weathered cheek and then dashed from the study. Relief swept through her to be finished with such disagreeable business. She would obey her father’s silly rules, and before she knew it, all this rubbish would be far behind her. She simply needed to avoid trouble until after Joseph’s wedding. That ought not to be so hard. The Season was winding down, after all. How difficult could it be?

  ****

  The newly titled Earl of Hawthorne braced himself as three familiar gentlemen strolled toward him along the walk. They were men with whom he’d broken bread, wagered cards, and practiced fisticuffs at Gentleman Jackson’s. As they neared him, their conversation halted and their countenances transformed from pleasure to distaste. All six eyes focused on some unknown distant object behind him. The only sound was their booted heels and wooden canes tapping along the pavement as they passed. This wasn’t the first time he’d received the cut today.

  Walking aimlessly upon leaving his new office at Whitehall, Garrett Castleton resisted the urge to turn around and call the three of them out. Instead he clenched his fists and increased his pace. News of his father’s crimes had spread quickly, and men he’d considered friends now treated him as though he had the plague. It ought not to bother him.

  Although the morning air was cool, he reached up and tugged at his cravat. Resentment festered in his chest. To avoid any further unpleasant encounters, Garrett crossed the street to Hyde Park and headed down one of its less populated paths. The leaves rustled in the trees as a gentle gust stirred the air. Any breeze this time of year in London was welcome.

  Unfortunately, solitude was not to be his for long. For the fragrant waft of nature carried with it the distinctive scent of ladies’ perfume. Oh, wonderful, Lady Natalie Spencer—diamond of the first water—was just ahead. Careful to avoid soiling her slippers, she dain
tily picked her way toward him with a maid in tow. Just what he needed, another snub by one of London’s elite.

  He slowed his pace and scrutinized her, not bothering to move to one side or the other. By no stretch of the imagination was he feeling amicable in that moment.

  She looked pale and fragile, wearing an icy blue confection of a dress. Of course, she carried the ridiculous ruffles and lace elegantly, not a bit of it hindering her practiced grace. Atop blonde tresses, she wore a jaunty hat, decorated with, of all things, two ladybugs and a butterfly. Ladies of the ton never failed to surprise him in their frivolousness.

  Apparently sensing his presence, she glanced up. Garrett watched her lashes flutter and noted her blue eyes widen before shifting away.

  He halted, opened his stance, and planted his boots on each side of the path. The trail was narrow here. She would be forced to acknowledge his presence if she wished to pass. In no mood to play the gallant, he removed his hat and bowed mockingly.

  “My lady.” His gaze travelled the length of her. He did nothing to hide his appraisal. In fact, he allowed it to linger over her tiny waist, bodice, and exposed décolletage. A flush spread across her creamy skin.

  Hesitating for only a moment, with downcast eyes, the lady dipped into a flawless curtsey. “My lord…” She still had not looked directly at him. “I’ll thank you for permitting my maid and me to pass.” Garrett’s eyes fixed upon a loose curl dangling teasingly over one silken shoulder. His mind conjured up thoughts of how her skin might taste, how it would feel beneath his lips. In another world, she would be his for the taking.

  But not in this one.

  Although acquainted with the girl’s father and brothers, he’d never been allowed an introduction to the delicate flower herself. “We’ve not been introduced, my lady. The Earl of Hawthorne at your service.” His tone made a mockery of his words. Standing before her, he was aggravated to note he suddenly felt coarse and brutish. How could he not? She embodied all of that which polite society esteemed.

  She bit her lip and looked about, as though seeking escape. He could have sworn her sapphire eyes flashed. “You’ll excuse me please, my lord. I haven’t time to converse.” For the first time, he noticed she clutched a timepiece tightly. She glanced at it and frowned.