His Reluctant Lady

  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.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please do. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Cover Photo images Copyright Dreamstime. www.dreamstime.com All rights reserved – used with permission.

  Table of Contents

  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

  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.

  Ethan strode over to them, and she couldn’t help but notice the wide smile on his face. “You’re unusually happy,” she commented, continuing to lower her voice for Mister Robinson’s benefit.

  “It’s a pleasant day,” he replied with a shrug. “The sun’s out, people are smiling, colors are more vibrant—”

  Mister Robinson laughed. “Colors are more vibrant?”

  “They are,” Ethan insisted, looking as serious as a gentleman could be.

  Amused, the corners of her lips turned up. “I think your wife has something to do with that ridiculous grin on your face.”

  “And to think that just two months ago, you were bemoaning the fact that you had to go to the church to read the Banns,” Mister Robinson continued.

  “He was bemoaning it?” she asked.

  “His bride was crying, his father-in-law was glowering at him, and he kept wincing as if he were in pain.”

  She joined Mister Robinson in laughing. “That must have been a sight! I’m sorry I missed it.” And truly, she was. Not that she wanted to see Ethan suffer, but since neither the bride nor the groom wanted to get married, it had to have been funny to watch the ordeal taking place.

  To his credit, Ethan gave a nonchalant shrug. “There might have been a little uncertainty going in.”

  “Your bride sobbed through the whole thing,” Mister Robinson added, which made her laugh harder than before.

  “Tears of joy…at least as time went on,” Ethan replied. “However, I’m not here to discuss my marriage.” He turned to her. “I hear you have a manuscript for me.”

  She immediately sobered. Perhaps laughing at the way Ethan’s wedding played out wasn’t a good idea since he could easily let it slip she wasn’t really Gilbert. “Yes. I appreciate you taking the time to do this.”

  “Do what?” Mister Robinson asked as she handed the manuscript to Ethan.

  She hesitated to speak, but Ethan answered for her. “I know the publisher of Minerva Press and told him I knew a talented author whose manuscript I’d deliver to him.”

  “Just because he knows the publisher, it doesn’t mean he’ll accept my manuscript,” she clarified. “He rejected the other manuscripts I wrote.”

  “If you don’t mind my being so bold, what do you write?” Mister Robinson asked her.

  Though her face warmed, she admitted, “Gothic fiction with some,” she lowered her voice, “romance in it.”

  “Some what?”

  She glanced at Ethan who didn’t seem to mind the fact that Mister Robinson was making her uncomfortable. Well, it was payback for the way she laughed about his crying bride. Taking a deep breath, she forced out, “It has romance in it.” There. Now he could judge her in the same way others judged all authors who dared to write such novels.

  To her surprise, he didn’t seem appalled. Instead, he looked intrigued. “What is that book about?”

  “The usual. A castle reported to be haunted, a heroine whose life is in danger, a hero who saves her,” she mumbled. “Things you wouldn’t be interested in.” Before he could express his disgust, she added, “I must take my leave. Thank you, Lord Edon,” she told Ethan. Bowing to them, she wished them a good day and hurried back to her townhouse.

  Chapter Two

  “Isn’t it splendid?” Sophie asked in excitement as Agatha entered Lord Roderick’s ballroom. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “I suppose this is doable,” Agatha relented.

  “Doable? It’s grand!”

  Turning her attention from the enormous chandelier to her sister, Agatha smiled. “I meant that being here isn’t as dreadful as I thought it’d be. You know I don’t care much for the marriage mart, but there are enough married couples here so it’s bearable.”

  “There are married couples at every ball.”

  Agatha was tempted to argue that this one seemed to have more than others but decided to let the comment go. “Is there anyone in particular who strikes your fancy?”

  Sophie scanned the room. “Lord Dabney is rather fetching.”

  She followed her sister’s gaze and saw a blonde gentleman who was talking to Mister Robinson. She recognized Mister Robinson from when she met him earlier that day in her disguise. He’d be much more suited for her sister, considering he was probably twenty. Plus, he had dark hair. Agatha always fancied dark hair on a gentleman. Too bad he didn’t have a title.

  “I enjoyed dancing with Lord Dabney last time I went to a ball,” her sister said, interrupting her thoughts. “He tells magnificent stories.”

  “What kind of stories?”

  “Stories he’s read. He loves to read. Take me over there, Agatha! Maybe he’ll ask me to dance.”

  Clasping her hands together, Agatha tried to de
termine the likelihood that Mister Robinson would recognize her. She thought her disguise was good, but she didn’t think it was so good that he wouldn’t figure out her real identity if he saw her again so soon—even if she was now dressed as a lady. “Maybe we should wait. You don’t want to seem too eager.”

  “Please, Agatha,” her sister pressed. “I’d be ever so grateful.”

  “If you are too eager, he’ll lose interest. Gentlemen prefer to pursue rather than be pursued.”

  “But if he must pursue too much, he’s bound to lose interest.”

  “You are determined to do this, aren’t you?” Sophie offered a hopeful smile, and despite her better judgment, Agatha felt her resolve crumbling. “Very well. We’ll stroll by the gentlemen and let them notice us.”

  She got ready to cheer, but when Agatha shot her a warning look, she restrained her enthusiasm. Agatha casually made her way around the room, exchanging pleasantries with others as she and her sister passed them by. To her sister’s credit, she followed suit and lingered a bit when Agatha stopped to engage in small talk.

  When they finally reached Mister Robinson and Lord Dabney, Agatha slowed her steps. She tapped her sister’s arm so she wouldn’t go running into Lord Dabney’s arms since Sophie had quickened her pace. She gave her sister a slight shake of her head, and her sister stopped.

  “I believe the particular book you’re looking for is at the Subscription Library,” Agatha said in a voice loud enough to catch the gentlemen’s attention. When they paused to glance her way, she offered an apologetic smile. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to speak so loudly.”

  “No apologies are necessary,” Lord Dabney replied, turning to them. “You’re familiar with the Subscription Library?”

  “Yes.” She made it her business to know everything about places that sold books, but he didn’t need to know this. Instead, she motioned to Sophie. “This is my sister’s first Season, and I’m afraid her time in London has been limited mostly to social pursuits rather than reading.”