Fated Love E-Book

Sandy Raven

• Herausgeber: WS
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Caversham Chronicles
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 834

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Lady Adina, Countess Rathcavan, thinks it’s time her grandson took a bride, not just because there was no heir to the crumbling pile of stones that was her home, but since the explosion at his mill, their finances were strapped even further. The young man needed an heiress, but he had only one lady in mind, and she was as elusive as the sun in winter.

With Adina’s seventy-fifth birthday approaching, she decided to help her grandson by bringing his chosen lass, Lady Isabel Halden, to Rathcavan. And, since the lady was friends with her great-niece, Penelope, Adina could reunite her favorite relative with the man who unwillingly broke her heart when he was sent on a mission to Afghanistan. Lastly, if she could match that soft-hearted giant, Eamon Gowrey with the statuesque Brightman lass, Adina would be extra pleased with herself.

All three ladies come from good families and had more than sufficient dowries. But more importantly for Adina, they would appreciate and continue her stud long after she was gone.

A month-long house party with a ball, a fox hunt, moonlit walks in the garden and more, all bring the three couples closer. After an accident almost takes the life of one heiress, the three ladies vow to do everything in their power to stay together always. And the way they wished to start this new life was by sharing their wedding day with each other—if they can convince their new husbands of it!

Leseprobe

Isabel dropped her plaid onto the settee, and went to stand before Laethan in the silk peignoir her mother and the modiste chose for her trousseau. Even though Isabel was freezing cold, and thought it revealed too much, the appreciation in her husband's eyes was blatantly evident and it stirred a desire in her that could only be satisfied by his touch.

"The night we met, I knew there would be some sort of fireworks between us," she said. "Only I wasn't sure if they were going to be this kind."

With just inches between them, Isabel gazed into Laethan’s crystalline dark blue eyes. The gold flecks in them glowed from his inner warmth, and beckoned her even closer.

She watched him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbed slowly as a lazy grin spread across his face. "What kind of fireworks do we have?"

Laethan's stare unnerved her. The man was going to make her tell him, was going to make her ask for his attention.

Isabel was shivering. If he didn't hold her soon, her teeth would begin chattering… and that wasn't very romantic was it? She also wasn't too proud to beg for his warmth when she was about to die from frostbite in her new rooms. But it was more than just his warmth she wanted. She wanted his touch. Wanted him to touch her all over. Craved it, in fact, because she suspected it might be as combustible as a spark on tinder.

FATED LOVE

THE TITANS OF THE REVOLUTION, BOOK 1

SANDY RAVEN

CONTENTS

Teaser Scene

Family Tree

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Putting our work out there

About the Author

Other Books by This Author

Acknowledgments

Dear Reader

1

So close as to be almost sisters

October, 1842, Scottish Lowlands

Miss Penelope Fenwicke, daughter and only child of the Viscount and Viscountess Huddleston, fought the rising panic in her belly as she held the door to her room open for one of her two best friends in the entire world to enter.

“Well... If that wasn’t the most awkward welcome we’ve ever received, I don’t know what is,” whispered Lady Charlotte Brightman, only daughter of the Earl and Countess of Camden, as she swept into Penelope’s suite of rooms at Lyden Castle, home of Penny’s great-aunt, Lady Adina, the Countess of Rathcavan. “Emphasis on awkward.”

Penelope nodded in agreement. Placing a finger over her closed lips, she shut the door behind Charlotte. She pressed her hand to her belly, hoping to stop the butterflies from bursting forth. Penny never showed nerves on the outside. She kept them bottled within, releasing her anxieties in the privacy of her own bedchamber. It was something she’d had to learn early in her life. If her mother saw her upset, she would fret over her. And her mother had enough of her own worries with Penny’s father off somewhere in the northern territories of India. Penny didn’t want to add to her mother’s concerns.

Even before Penelope could reply, a second knock, just moments from the first, brought their friend Isabel into the room.

“I rushed right over after tossing my hat on the bed,” Lady Isabel Halden whispered. “I can’t believe what we just heard.”

“Same here.” Charlotte gave Penelope an expectant gaze. “What on earth is going on?”

“You’re asking me as if I know.” Penelope felt herself trembling, as though her heart was given a new reason to have hope. “My great-aunt just said that my cousin is not engaged to marry anyone, much less Mr. Santiago. But I read the letter Lady Edgar sent to my mother. She is planning to announce the betrothal during this house party, and…” Penny swallowed past the knot tightening in her breast. According to her great-aunt, Penny’s cousin would not be marrying the man she, Penelope Fenwicke, had fallen in love with the year before—the same man Penny had feared might be dead because he’d not written to her since his abrupt disappearance from London on the same day he’d said he wanted to ask her father for permission to court her. She’d mourned his disappearance at first. Then after learning he’d been up in Scotland and engaged to marry her cousin, she’d been heartsick and furious.

“Since the earl and his friends aren’t here, there is no way of asking is there?” Charlotte said.

“If there’s been a breakup Miss Olivia might not wish to talk about it,” Isabel offered. “It would be nice if we could discover what happened without appearing the worst sort of gossips.”

“No,” Penny whispered, trying to regain what strength she’d thought she had before she arrived at Lyden Castle a mere hour ago. One short conversation with Lady Adina had her belly tumbling inside her like a circus performer. “As much as I may have wished at one time that Mr. Santiago realized his folly, begged my forgiveness, and asked my father for my hand in marriage, the man has not contacted me in any way, for over a year.”

“Well,” said Charlotte, “chances are he likely won’t be coming to the house party because of this new development.”

“Right,” said Isabel. “I mean, who would want to be in the same vicinity as someone you’ve broken a betrothal to?”

Penny went to the window and pulled back the curtain to look at her view. Rolling hills, lush and green, spread out before her far off into the distance. Glancing down, she saw her rooms were above the flagstone terrace with steps leading to a path that wound around the side of the house. She’d stayed in this room once before, several years ago, before she’d come out, and long before she’d fallen in love with that feckless man who stole her heart. “We won’t know for certain what the truth is, or if there ever was an… understanding between them until my cousin and Lady Edgar return from shopping in the village which could be any minute.”

“You don’t sound as though you believe what Lady Edgar wrote in the letter to your mother,” Isabel said.

“Do not be swayed by his sweet words again Penny, if he comes here,” Charlotte warned. “Do not melt if you see his handsome face and do not give in to his passionate Spanish nature. He would use your emotions against you.”

“Yes, Penny,” Isabel said. “You have recovered and have become a stronger woman because of his cruel actions.”

“Remember,” Charlotte added, “Mr. Santiago promised he would write, and he never did. Over a year without a single word, and these past months he’s been here in Scotland. Why did he never come to you, or write to you?”

In the distance Penelope watched a young lad, a groom likely, riding one horse in the front, center position, leading about eight other horses behind him up the narrow lane from a distant pasture. They looked well-behaved, following him with no halters or ropes on their heads. Likely he was bringing in horses for the guests that had already arrived, or were still en route to Lyden Castle.

She turned to face her friends. How could she explain without making her cousin seem truly horrid? “I have told you both before that my cousin Olivia is a bumble-head,” Penny whispered. “And that was being… kind. You will find she’s… an… exaggerator.”

“She’s a liar?” Charlotte sounded surprised.

“In a way… Yes. I suppose,” Penelope tried to find the correct way to describe her vacuous, self-absorbed cousin without being cruel. “She wants desperately to be liked. And to that end, she will say and do almost anything to gain your amity, or affection. Her mother died when she was a small girl.”

“I will not feel sorry for the girl who tells her aunt that Mr. Santiago wants to marry her,” Charlotte said, “when, according to Lady Adina, he’s said no such thing.” Charlotte would be the least of the three of them to be forgiving or accepting—especially when a wrong was done to one of the three of them.

“I am in no way giving Olivia a pass on her behavior, but as she isn’t here—and neither is Mr. Santiago—I don’t know what the real story is.” Before walking into Lyden, Penelope had hardened her heart such that she was almost as strong as Charlotte. But with what her great-aunt had just shared with their party, Penny’s heart was taking flight again—she could feel it. And, after what had occurred during the year and a half that he had been gone, she wasn’t certain she could let her heart get carried away by Mr. Nathaniel Santiago again.

Charlotte might be right. He likely wasn’t even going to be here if there was no announcement of a marriage to be made. That would suit Penelope just fine.

There was still the very real possibility that if Olivia knew Penelope had had her heart set on him at one time, Olivia would browbeat her with her perceived win, demonstrably rubbing said victory in Penny’s face. Penny long ago realized her cousin was not her biggest fan. Likely because she had both parents and she was jealous of that.

From the letters that her mother received from Lady Adina, it seemed as though Lady Edgar’s vulgar influence had already been established in her cousin’s behavior. It might not hurt to prepare her friends, away from Penny’s mother as they were now, to what Olivia’s nature might be.

“After Olivia’s mother died, she was sent here to live with Lady Adina first, and… well, you’ve met her.”

Charlotte grinned. “She doesn’t appear the type to tolerate fools.”

Penelope nodded, Charlotte was right about that. “My great-aunt can be brusque with people she deems frivolous, weak, or whiny. Olivia is the only girl in a family filled with male offspring. Her parents treated her like a fragile little princess. They positively doted on her.

“First her mother died of a fever when Olivia was two. At eight, when Olivia’s father died, Lady Adina was… unprepared to raise a little girl, so she sent Olivia to Lady Edgar—the widow of her firstborn son—a woman who had never had a child herself. Lady Edgar then sent Olivia away to boarding school in Switzerland because she didn’t know what to do with Olivia either.”

“With the portrait of your cousin that you are painting,” Isabel said, “I almost feel sorry for her.”

“Don’t,” Penelope warned. “She was a spoiled and manipulative brat as a child, and I doubt she’s changed. It’s something I believe she learned at Lady Edgar’s side.”

“I believe I understand,” Isabel said. “Though, one would think she’d grow up eventually and learn right from wrong.”

Penelope agreed with her friend, then added, “Just… be wary of her.”

Her friends left to nap before dressing for dinner. As Penelope lay on the bed trying to force herself to fall asleep she heard carriages clattering up the front drive. She knew from this room she wouldn’t see the arrivals. Besides, they were likely more guests, or the return of the group that had gone shopping in the village.

An hour and a half later, Annie woke her to dress for dinner. As her maid placed the last of the pins in her up-swept straight blonde locks, a knock sounded at her door. Certain it was Charlotte or Isabel, she called for the person to come in.

Penelope wasn’t prepared to see her cousin.

Olivia had grown a few inches taller since the last time she’d seen her three years earlier when Penny’s family had come for a visit. Her artfully designed coif was similar in color to Penny’s, a shade of blonde particular to the Fenwicke side of the family, only God had seen fit to grant Olivia pretty curls.

And that wasn’t the only thing he’d given her more of. The girl’s bodice revealed an indecent amount of flesh for one so young—barely seventeen. Or maybe it was just the illusion from a daringly low cut dress and an over-tight corset. Either way, it was an inappropriate dress for an unmarried young lady her age, even if she was out.

Penelope tried not to stare at her cousin’s breasts and forced herself to look instead at the sleeves and skirts. The cerulean velvet bordered with gold piping was beautiful, and the cream-colored hand-woven lace underskirts peeking out at the scalloped hem, and the bell sleeves perfectly complimented Olivia’s complexion, her eyes, and her hair. The dress had surely cost someone a fortune. Her jewels had to cost even more.

For a jealous moment Penelope wondered if the sapphires and diamonds were a gift from Nathaniel. But then Penelope remembered he’d said he was planning for a life in the church when she met him. Besides, Olivia was no longer betrothed to him. Had she ever really been?

Perhaps the jewels were her mother’s, or borrowed from Lady Edgar. That had to be it.

“Cousin Penelope!” The attractive blonde swept into the room with a cool smile. “It is wonderful to see you!” She glided over to Penny, graceful in her movements. Olivia wore a hint of rouge on her lips, but it didn’t detract from her natural beauty. Penny wanted to hate her, but couldn’t. Yet. She had to keep that in mind. Dismissing Annie, Penny said she would call for her in a few minutes.

Olivia gave her a welcoming hug and immediately began rattling about things Penny didn’t care about. If she knew her cousin as well as she thought she did, the real reason for her coming to Penny’s room would be hiding in this idle chatter. It was Olivia’s way of revealing, in that covert way that was her habit, what her true intent was.

“Aunt Edgar says you have had another successful season. The newspapers in Edinburgh say nothing but intriguing things about you. There’s always speculation over who might ask for your hand, or that of your friends, and every week it’s a different man. A girl up here should be so lucky to have half as many fawning beaus.”

Penny wanted to laugh at this, but couldn’t. Every week a different man? She’d not shown any partiality toward a young man at all for the past two seasons. Partly because her heart had not yet healed to the point where she could allow another man in. Penny told herself that this was partly why she was here in Scotland. To put Mr. Nathaniel Santiago del Andaluz behind her. Permanently.

“I asked Aunt Edgar earlier this year if we could go to London so I might have one season there, and well…” She blushed as she smiled, revealing dimples that made her incredibly, disgustingly, pretty. Dimples that Penny never got from her father’s family. “Aunt Edgar said that’s no longer necessary because I will soon be a married woman, but…”

Penny’s heart slid to a stop, much like a horse refusing a jump at the last possible moment, then slamming into the obstacle. She had given herself a tiny bit of hope based on the fact that Lady Adina said there was no betrothal between Olivia and Mr. Santiago, so to hear her cousin say those words caused her world to stop spinning.

Her cousin leaned in closer to Penny and gripped her shoulders as she whispered, “I wish Aunt Edgar would drop that entire debacle. Neither one of us wishes to wed the other. Just because she walked in on me and Nate—er, Mr. Santiago—kissing, doesn’t mean we have to wed. His kiss wasn’t even that good. It was very much like kissing a rock, and… well… I cannot possibly marry someone who cannot kiss.”

Penny stepped away from Olivia’s grip. She was about to be ill. Nathaniel had kissed Olivia. He’d kissed her cousin, and the only thing Penny could think was Nathaniel had kissed her as well. For the past year and a half, she’d cherished the one and only kiss she’d shared with Nathaniel, remembering it fondly as a tender display of the affection they’d had for each other.

“Now, Mr. Carswell, or Mr. Timmons, back in Edinburgh, they can kiss and make a girl feel the most delicious things. As can Lord Blackmon.” Olivia shivered and fanned herself hurriedly with her gloved hand. “But, Mr. Santiago? The poor man doesn’t know what to do.”

“Excuse me, please,” Penny turned away. She forced herself to keep her composure. She couldn’t show weakness to her cousin, for who knew how she would use that against her. “I must finish readying myself for the evening. We can talk about this more later.”

Only there would be no later. If she could make it until her mother planned to go to Edinburgh to visit her friends, Penelope was leaving.

Olivia must have sensed Penny’s upset because her expression quickly changed to one of concern. “I’m sorry,” the younger girl said, with a false, apologetic tone. “I assumed you would have kissed men before. All the girls in my set of friends have kissed men. Some, many men. I’ve only kissed a handful and found it⁠—”

Penny felt light-headed and somewhat ill, then excused herself to rush to the dressing room before she vomited in front of her cousin. Olivia continued chattering behind her, having now taken a seat at her dressing table, though Penny couldn’t hear a word of what her cousin was saying. The image of Olivia and Mr. Santiago in a romantic embrace was now forever burned into her brain, and the thought that he might have enjoyed Olivia’s kiss was causing her to breathe too rapidly. If she wasn’t careful, Penny thought she would faint. She could not let that happen. Not in front of Olivia who would then make use of it by embarrassing Penny in public with her exaggerating recitation of events.

Her cousin continued her idle chatter while Penny waited for her maid. Olivia went on and on about kissing, and how unhappy she was about being forced to wed. “He is handsome and has a modest inheritance—though he’s now partnered with Laethan in his rail-making business,” her cousin said, “so hopefully he’ll be incredibly rich one day. And if that’s the case then I suppose I could do worse.”

Olivia spoke of things Penelope would never speak of to someone she was only passing acquainted with—which was what Penny considered their relationship. She knew they were cousins, but they were not friends. She’d only met the girl maybe three times in her entire life. How on earth did Olivia know how much his inheritance was? Or who his relations were?

It broke her heart that she and Mr. Santiago had rarely spoken of his relations. Penny knew his uncle was the Earl of Chawsbridge, and that he was the one who’d helped him secure a job translating for a diplomat. But mostly what they spoke about during their rides in the park usually related to horses, and what he’d studied in Barcelona at university, and what he’d done since bringing his recently-widowed mother to England for an extended stay with her sister, also a widow.

Penny thought she nodded at her cousin’s nonsense, she wasn’t sure. She thought she smiled, but she wasn’t certain of that either. Only one thing rang clear in Penelope’s head and heart—Mr. Santiago had kissed Olivia.

Penny had been such a fool. Such a hopeful and blind fool. She never questioned his explanation of going on a job to another country as a translator for a diplomat. And, if he’d lied about caring for her, his job was probably a lie as well.

Olivia was obviously intimate enough with the man as she called him by a name Penny would never have presumed to call him. Penny had only known him for all of five weeks. At this point, Olivia had known him longer than she had. She’d likely been intimate with him in ways that Penelope had wanted to share with her Mr. Santiago—and that made her even more sick. Nathaniel wasn’t even Olivia’s first kiss, as she’d admittedly kissed at least three other men. Now she understood why Lady Adina didn’t believe there to be an understanding between the two. Lady Edgar believed her charge to be compromised, and the honorable thing for the gentleman to do was to marry the girl whose reputation he sullied. He likely wasn’t the first to ’sully’ her cousin, but he was the one who got caught.

Penelope was about to be ill. She wanted out of this conversation as quickly as possible before she humiliated herself in front of her cousin by bursting into tears.

Her maid, Annie, entered carrying the jeweled pins to finish styling Penny’s hair, and right then decided she couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t sit through dinner, and the conversation to go with it, in the company of her cousin or her Aunt Edgar. Penny begged her cousin’s pardon and understanding. “I think I’m more exhausted than I first believed, and need to rest. Traveling over several days is exhausting.” She took a pin from her hair and handed it to Annie.

“You do look rather peaked. Perhaps I should send for Doctor Gowrey. He’s a guest here for the party as he is my brother’s maternal cousin, and he has just finished his exams and is now a practicing doctor in Edinburgh. He’s rather handsome as well, but he’s in trade, and⁠—”

“If he’s a doctor then he’s a professional,” Penny corrected, “and an educated man.” Her cousin was such a peabrain she couldn’t even differentiate between the two.

“Oh, well… No matter, Aunt Edgar looks down on men who are in trade.” She backed toward the door. “I’ll send the man right up.”

Penelope stopped her. “No, please. All I need is my maid to help me out of this dress. I’m suddenly not feeling the thing. Please send my regrets to those joining you all for dinner. I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow if I am up to it.”

Olivia nodded and hurried into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Annie removed the rest of the pins in Penny’s hair as tears began to fall down her cheeks. She should never have come. Never agreed to this harebrained idea of making him jealous.

Once Penny had her nightdress and warm robe on, she sat in front of the fire and waited for her friends to come get her for dinner. She didn’t have to wait for long.

Charlotte arrived first, Isabel being notorious for taking longer to ready herself for anything, even a ride in the park. They each hugged her when she’d told them about the conversation she had with her cousin. Penelope tried to compose herself as she spoke, but was in tears again before she was finished.

“I’m not sure I can do this. I think it was a mistake for me to come here. If I could…” Penny sniffled back the tears. “If I could find a good enough reason to leave here now, I would.” She wiped her face with the back of her hands.

A few months ago, when she’d learned that he was back from his assignment, and in Scotland, she’d spent six days sick to her stomach that he had returned and not notified her. Upon waking on the seventh day, she vowed she would not go backwards in her emotions.

Her heart had mostly healed. Or, at least that’s what she’d told herself every day since the day she learned he was betrothed to mutton-brained Olivia. This was supposed to be the perfect opportunity to prove to herself that she’d been wrong about Mr. Nathaniel Gregorio Santiago del Andaluz. That he was not the man she’d thought. That he was, in fact, a scoundrel and a horrible blackguard. A man who stole a lady’s affections, and kisses, and said things to soften her to his ideas and plans.

“Penelope, I have to ask…”

It had been a glorious morning in the park, one she had planned to treasure always.

She would never forget the bashful grin on his face, the way the gold flecks in his coffee-colored eyes glowed from the sunshine breaking through the morning cloud cover. It had been after their usual brisk ride through the park, at a time when there were perhaps a handful of grooms out exercising their masters’ mounts, and the week before London was overrun by the families of the members of parliament and the official start of the season. Penny had been staying with Charlotte in London for several weeks as her father was working to get an agenda change for the upcoming session of parliament. Isabel joined them two weeks before the season began.

Nathaniel’s voice had trembled, much as her entire body had each time she was in his presence. His English, while grammatically perfect, was spoken with his native Spanish accent. The timbre was deep, warm, sensual. It had enveloped her heart, and she’d fallen for him so quickly that it defied all logic.

She and Nathaniel walked side by side, leading their horses and cooling them after a vigorous ride, with Charlotte and Isabel still mounted on their geldings. Her friends blocked their guards’ view of Penny and Nathaniel, and the two of them kept far enough ahead that her friends could not hear their conversation.

“Would you be amenable to me… asking your father… for permission to court you? With the eventual outcome being… ?”

He had lifted her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist above her riding glove, on her naked skin. To this day, Penelope still felt the quivering low in her belly just thinking about the feel of his hot, wet lips on the sensitive flesh above her palm.

“I understand we haven’t been acquainted long, and, while I might not know what this assignment is that I’ll be taking, or when I’m leaving, I know I want you as my wife. That is if you would also want me as your husband, because if you say yes, I will come back as soon as possible. And… The only woman I want in my life is you. Please… Would you do me the honor of marrying me upon my return?”

He’d been so nervous that she could hear the vibration in his lightly accented English.

More tears spilled over and tracked their paths down her cheek. When Isabel hugged her, it brought her out of the past and back to her room at Lyden Castle.

“Your mother said she would take us to Edinburgh with her next week if we wanted to go,” Isabel said.

“I may take her up on that, for this may be more than I can bear, even if he doesn’t come to Lyden,” Penny replied. “Though if you and Charlotte are enjoying yourselves, you should certainly stay. Do not let me be the one to end your party.”

“Let’s not think of that just yet,” Isabel said.

“Isa’s right. Any thought of leaving early is premature,” Charlotte added. “We’ll know more after dinner with Olivia and Lady Edgar.”

“I wish I knew when the earl was arriving with his friends. They will likely arrive together. And if I could leave with mother without having to see Mr. Santiago, I believe I will,” Penelope said. “The countess, my great-aunt Adina, said she didn’t know when they would return because the men were installing new equipment at the earl’s mill. I believe he purchased it before he came into the title, and is reluctant to give it up.”

Her maid entered the room from the connecting dressing area and stood silently a moment. “Yes, Annie?”

“I was sent to notify you that the family has gathered in the great hall.”

“Will there be anyone other than family?” Charlotte asked.

“Tonight? No, my lady,” replied her dutiful maid. “From what I’ve gathered, there are no other guests staying at the castle but family. Everyone who is invited to the birthday celebration on Saturday and next week’s hunt are neighbors and friends of the countess. We are the only guests for the duration.”

Penny exchanged curious glances with Charlotte and Isabel. “Thank you, Annie,” Charlotte said. “Isabel and I will be down shortly.”

After her maid left the room, Penny exhaled. As though an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. “Even though he is not here tonight, I am still not feeling up to snuff, and if you wouldn’t mind—” She pressed her hands together, bringing her fingertips to her chin. “Please inform my mother that I am claiming exhaustion from travel, and will decline going below for tonight. Annie can bring me a tray later.”

“Does Olivia know about you and Mr. Santiago?” This came from Isabel as she sat next to Charlotte on the edge of the bed.

“Lady Edgar does. She is the one who wrote to my mother when she recognized the name. Whether she told Olivia of the connection, I am unsure.”

“The best thing to do is to stick as close to the plan we decided on before we left London,” said Charlotte. “That is, if he even comes to Lyden.”

Isabel agreed. “Just pretend he wasn’t important to you at all. Act as though we don’t even remember him.”

“Do that,” Charlotte said, “and if you still feel you cannot face him, then you can say you are unwell⁠—”

“Until next week,” Isabel added, “when we can leave for Edinburgh with your mother.”

Charlotte gave Isabel a look that made Penny want to laugh. Or, she would have if she were in a better mood.

“I thought you were staying here, with me, to hunt with Lady Adina,” Charlotte said. “I wanted…”

“As much as I wish to hunt next week, the right thing to do is go with Penelope and Aunt Beverly if they leave,” Isabel admonished.

“Go enjoy dinner,” Penny said. “And if you can learn anything new and interesting, I would love to hear it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Isabel asked.

“Not tonight.” Penelope had to, simply had to, grow a backbone between now and the next morning or her mother was sure to know she was still carrying a tendre for Mr. Santiago.

* * *

Isabel linked arms with Charlotte after closing Penelope’s door. She leaned in to speak to her cousin in a whisper. “She will have to find again the resolve she had before we walked into this castle.”

“Certainly before Mr. Santiago arrives,” Charlotte whispered back.

“It might be a good idea to find out if he is attending the party, and if so when he and the earl will get here.” Isabel wondered how it would look if her friend left with her mother, and she and Charlotte were to remain here. She didn’t think it would be good.

Charlotte leaned close and whispered, “How many house parties have you heard of that were this… intimate?” They continued down the long forest-green-patterned, carpeted hallway toward the main stairway. “And we are here for one whole month.”

“I want you to consider something,” Isabel began, “that if Penny wishes to go with her mother to Edinburgh, I think we should go with them. Especially if a betrothal between her cousin and Mr. Santiago will take place. It might be unbearable for her, to see her cousin enter into a marriage, whether it’s by force or free will, with the man our Penelope had fallen in love with. In that case, I think I will want to go with Aunt Beverly.”

Isabel knew how much Charlotte wanted to ride with the hunt next week, and so did she. But, where it felt to her that Charlotte wanted the hunt even at the expense of her friend’s happiness, Isabel just wanted Penelope to lay this issue with Mr. Santiago to rest. The past year and a half had been difficult for them all—first with him away on a secret assignment, then learning of his return and his betrothal to Penelope’s cousin. It had taken everything Isabel and Charlotte had to keep Penny from sending the man a letter. She’d reminded Penelope that Mr. Santiago hadn’t been in London long, and perhaps he’d had a change of heart while he was away.

But that didn’t explain what he was doing in Scotland. Clearly these next few days would be difficult, though how difficult would depend on Olivia’s actions, and on Mr. Santiago’s explanation.

She and Charlotte reached the sprawling, wide staircase at the end of their hall and when they stepped onto the landing mid-way down, Charlotte looked up, over Isabel’s shoulder, to make sure no one could hear what she wanted to say. “Certainly I will go if Aunt Beverly says I must,” she whispered. “But I am finally at Lyden, and I will not have that fickle Spaniard ruin my hunt.”

“Charlotte!” Isabel hissed.

“I’m sorry, but that man will hear a piece of my mind as soon as I can get him alone. What he did, leading my friend to believe he wanted to marry her, then disappearing, was despicable. If there was any proof besides Penny’s word, why, she could sue him for breach of promise. I’ve heard my father talk of it before.”

“She would never want her pain on display for men to judge. Doing that would ruin her.”

“But Mr. Santiago needs to know that he cannot go around playing free with a lady’s affections. There are repercussions for men who make a habit of it.”

“While I feel very much the same as you,” Isabel said, “I care more about Penelope’s happiness than I do telling Mr. Santiago what a—” She scanned the area around them to make sure no one could hear her “—What a horse’s arse he is.”

A footman at the bottom of the steps glanced toward them, likely waiting to escort the two ladies to where the others gathered. Charlotte took the opportunity to end the discussion by saying, “I care about both. Very much. He hurt our friend.”

When they landed on the main level the footman, as Isabel guessed, waited to lead her and Charlotte to where the family gathered before going in to dinner. Isabel stopped before stepping off the main staircase in the foyer. Lively conversation echoed through the cavernous addition, originating from the great hall below them. Voices echoed through the centuries-old original portion of the castle, telling Isabel where the family waited.

Massive thick oak doors that almost reached the ceiling, were lovingly oiled and heavily scarred from centuries of use. They were propped open to the foyer and Isabel could hear her brother entertaining someone with the tale of one of his recent outings in London. Her brother was charming when he wanted to be—usually when there were pretty girls around. Since there were no other masculine voices, she wondered if there were any other men here besides Marcus.

She glanced up at Charlotte, who stood several inches taller than she did. When Charlotte nodded, the two of them turned the corner and descended into the great hall.

Isabel took in the grand medieval room and the enormous cut stones that comprised the walls, and massive beams overhead which supported the slate roof she’d seen when their carriages arrived. This part of the castle, while ancient, was clean and in good repair, and as with the rest of the castle, still lit with candles in massive iron-forged chandeliers hanging from the center rafter that bisected the length of the hall. Gas lighting had not yet come to these rural areas, she was sure.

She saw her brother standing with two women, and a man Isabel did not know. Lady Adina and Aunt Beverly were seated before the fire deep in their private conversation. The man next to her brother looked to be a few years older than Marcus, and they entertained the two unknown ladies with tales of their adventures.

The grand hearth where they all congregated had a welcoming fire blazing inside an opening big enough for Isabel to stand inside. She could almost envision rushes on the floor and giant Scottish hounds lying next to the laird of the estate, seated upon a throne. The mantle above the fire was a massive hand-hewn solid log that was built into the stone surround. On the wall opposite the hearth hung a very large tapestry featuring the colors and coat-of-arms for the earldom of Rathcavan—a golden dragon rampant on a vertically split background half red, half black.

As Isabel and Charlotte drew closer to the cluster of people near the hearth, she grinned at her Aunt Beverly and Lady Adina. The ladies standing with her brother turned and smiled when Marcus gestured toward her and Charlotte. The petite blonde, Isabel concluded, was pretty. Very pretty. Her golden blonde hair was done in an elaborate chignon atop her head, and wisps of curls slipped her knot which gave her an attractive, romantic look.

Was this Olivia? She could see the familial resemblance to Penelope in coloring. But that was the only common thing. The other girl had curls where Penny did not. The other girl was also petite, curvy, and had abundant cleavage, much like Isabel herself, while Penelope and Charlotte were both tall and willowy.

She and Charlotte greeted Aunt Beverly, and Charlotte made her excuses for Penelope, saying she was still tired from the trip, but was sure to be fine tomorrow.

“Gowrey,” Lady Adina said, “If my great-niece is still not feeling well after a night’s rest, you must make her well. We hunt next week and I know she’s a game lass and has likely been looking forward to the hunt as much as these other two young ladies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young man Isabel didn’t know said through a smile after giving her a mock bow. Isabel thought he was very handsome. Tall and lean like her brother, he had dark auburn curls, worn unfashionably short. His striking silvery-blue eyes were warm and friendly, softening the brow, and his wide, square jaw made that smile feel genuine to her.

Gowrey? He was going to make this an interesting stay in the country. But how was he going to make Penelope better? As the introductions continued, Isabel learned that Gowrey was Doctor Alain Wallace Gowrey, physician at the Royal Hospital in Edinburgh, and maternal cousin to the earl of Rathcavan, whose castle this was.

They were then introduced to Lady Edgar Gordon and Miss Olivia Gordon. The older woman was the countess’ daughter-in-law, aunt to Miss Olivia.

“I am more than just her aunt,” Lady Edgar intoned in a voice that was most irritating to the ears. A more high-pitched, scratchy whine Isabel had never heard in her life. “Aren’t I, my darling girl?” Turning to Isabel and Charlotte she added, “I’ve raised her from the time her father died. And, for the past two years, Olivia has been my solitary focus, as I prepared her for society much as her mother, God rest her, would have done had she survived. I am also introducing her to all the proper families now that she is out.”

Olivia was behind Lady Edgar, standing next to Marcus, and she rolled her eyes at the girls so her aunts and grandmother could not see. The act caused a tiny giggle to escape Isabel, which she immediately covered with a cough. She shouldn’t laugh at such childish actions but it was so perfectly timed that she couldn’t help herself.

Isabel glanced up at her brother, almost a foot taller than she, and she noticed something different about him. He stood a little straighter and—oh, goodness!—he stared at the bosomy petite blonde with a soft smile she’d not seen on his face since… since he fancied himself in love with Miss Anne Tipton.

And that was when Isabel realized Marcus was smitten by the little vixen. She was likely betrothed to another man, and her very own brother was charmed by her. Oh, this really was going to be a very interesting month.

While Lady Adina, Aunt Beverly, and Charlotte discussed next week’s hunts, Isabel tried to keep up with both groups of conversations. The more she listened to Miss Olivia speak, the more Isabel thought she sounded incredibly self-centered and vain—which begged the question… what was wrong with her brother?

She would have to take a moment to speak privately with him later, after dinner perhaps, and remind him of Olivia’s possible future marital status. If she really was betrothed, it was as good as being married. While Isabel didn’t know if any contracts were signed, just the fact that Lady Edgar had assumed it was a true betrothal meant that the girl was as good as wed.

A footman called for dinner and, being the only titled gentleman in the building, Marcus offered Lady Adina his arm and escorted their hostess into the dining hall. Lady Edgar and Aunt Beverly followed close behind them. Charlotte followed on the arm of Doctor Gowrey. Isabel and Miss Olivia walked behind them to the room across the foyer where an opulent display of china, crystal, and gold flatware was set at one end of a table that was easily forty feet long.

“I’m so glad you were all able to make grandmother’s birthday celebration,” the young miss said. “And you shouldn’t feel obliged to hunt if you’d rather not. I don’t. Can’t abide it myself.”

“Thank you, but my friends and I…”

“I know my cousin Penelope is mad for the hunt, as is her mother, and Lady Camden is renowned for her skills with a horse, so I assume Lady Charlotte is as well. But I was hoping I would find a kindred soul with Lord Glencairn’s sister.”

Isabel wanted to say something to correct the chit, but her upbringing, and her years out in society taught her well how to refrain from expressing the first thoughts that came to mind.

“I am very much excited for the opportunity to ride with your grandmother during this month. My aunts have revered her for years, praising her longevity with our favorite sport.”

“I didn’t know my Aunt Beverly was also your aunt.”

“She is my godmother,” Isabel said. “Aunt Beverly is as close to our family as any beloved aunt.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware.” The other girl looked like a puppy that had been scolded? Had Isabel been curt in her explanation? She didn’t intend to be.

“I’m sorry, Miss Olivia,” Isabel said, “if I sounded terse. Perhaps I, too, am more tired than I thought after several long days of travel.”

“That is completely understandable, Lady Isabel,” Miss Olivia said. “Why just traveling by coach from Edinburgh is enough to exhaust me!”

They arrived to their seats and Isabel discovered she was seated next to Lady Adina, with Miss Gordon on her left, and next to Miss Gordon was Doctor Gowrey. Across from them, Marcus was seated on Aunt Beverly’s right, as she shared the head of the table with Lady Adina. Next to Marcus sat Charlotte, and next to her was Lady Edgar. Lady Adina conversed with Aunt Beverly, and the two were deep into their discussion of her husband, Lord Huddleston, and his whereabouts in his latest letter to her.

Lady Edgar, seated at the end of the table, brought up the subject that had been on Isabel, Charlotte, and Penelope’s mind since their arrival.

Addressing the countess, Lady Edgar asked, “When is Rathcavan due to return? And will Mr. Santiago be with him?”

Lady Adina passed a pointed glance from Lady Edgar to Miss Olivia. “The men will return as soon as they are able, Margaret.” She then gave Isabel a grin. “They are installing new equipment in the mill.” Lady Adina sipped from her crystal wine goblet. Her expression one of pride as she spoke of her grandson, the new earl. “My grandson is a charming rake with a singular obsession—industrialization of the country. Several years ago, before he inherited the title, he and his cousin purchased a copper foundry in Glasgow and converted it to a rail-producing mill for the expansion of the railroads across the country. They have recently taken a third partner in their endeavor, Mr. Santiago, freeing my nephew up to focus on growth and expansion.”

Lady Edgar, apparently unsatisfied by her mother-in-law’s reply, pushed the matter again. “Well, surely they will arrive before the festivities are to begin on Saturday? Mr. Santiago has a betrothed here whom he abandoned almost immediately after their agreement⁠—”

Lady Adina didn’t miss a beat. She jumped into Lady Edgar’s display of temper. “They will get here when they get here, Margaret, and cease with this betrothal nonsense now. We both know neither one wants to marry the other.”

An awkward moment of silence hung over the party as several footmen cleared the soup dishes and others brought in the next course—a pâté of some sort on a bed of seasoned vegetables. When discussion resumed, talk had changed to horses, hounds, and hunting. Isabel wished dinner would end quickly so they could claim exhaustion and go back to their rooms. There was much to discuss with Penelope. Isabel was certain their friend waited for them to return and get the gossip from their dinner conversation.

* * *

Charlotte closed the door behind Isabel when they had both entered Penelope’s room after dinner. The two had begged to be excused from the evening’s after-dinner entertainments because of lingering fatigue. And, while they were truly tired, they also wanted to be spared Penelope’s cousin’s singing and pianoforte playing. She was sure the girl was satisfactory at both, but Charlotte had no desire to listen.

And her cousin Marcus was acting strange—as though he was interested in the chit. Yes, the girl was passably pretty. But it didn’t warrant paying her that much attention. Marcus couldn’t take his eyes off her abundant cleavage when he thought no one was looking. To make things even more strange, the betrothed miss was acting just as besotted with Marcus. The hussy! They just met that very evening.

Charlotte could not envision Olivia as Marcus’ marchioness and forced the image trying to form out of her head. She’d have to talk to him, maybe shake some sense into him, or do something to get him to see through the chit’s helpless miss act. Because Charlotte got the feeling that Miss Gordon was a manipulative little brat. One who’d set her sights on the fortune, title, or both.

But first she had to share with Penny the interesting behavior of everyone else at dinner—not herself or Isabel, of course. Then she’d tell her friend about the handsome doctor. The cousin to the new earl.

“I find it interesting that the very morning after he decided he would marry Miss Olivia, Mr. Santiago left Lyden for Glasgow with the new earl.” Isabel spoke in a hushed tone as she sat opposite Charlotte on Penny’s bed. “And Miss Olivia! Her behavior all through dinner!”

“You noticed, too?” Charlotte whispered. “I was hoping I wasn’t the only one who saw that. Your brother must be careful, because I sense that one is trouble.”

“I was thinking that same thing,” Isabel replied. “I’m planning to talk to him.”

“Miss Olivia is a prodigious flirt,” Charlotte added. “Indeed, she is a flirt of the first order. I know she is your cousin, Penny, but she is unlike anything I’ve ever encountered.”

“I’m relieved to know that there is no betrothal,” Penny replied. “But why didn’t he write?” she mused, more to herself than to Charlotte or Isabel. Charlotte wondered if Penelope was well because she looked as though she was in a fog.

“From what I overheard when Lady Adina was talking to your mother,” Isabel said, “the earl received new equipment at his mill and he and Mr. Santiago left immediately to supervise the installation and the start of production using this new equipment.”

Penny’s gaze snapped to Isabel when she heard Mr. Santiago’s name. Charlotte hoped she wasn’t back sliding into the emotional turmoil that she’d been in during the year she’d not heard from the man. And on top of that, for the past six months Charlotte witnessed her friend’s renascence—a reawakening of her spirit that had been dormant because of her broken heart.

“Then he really went to help his friend, and is not betrothed to Olivia?” Penny asked, the look on her face falling with her spirit.

“I overheard a conversation she was having with Marcus,” Charlotte added, “and she is making it sound as though Mr. Santiago abandoned her after her aunt caught him kissing her.”

Isabel nodded.

“That is suspicious,” Penny said. “Why would she do that?"

“I think,” Isabel said, “Miss Gordon is desperately trying to find a way out from under her aunt’s thumb. And she sees a rich, single young man as the only avenue to her independence.”

She and Isabel both nodded. Then it hit Charlotte, clear as the sun on a summer day. She now understood! There was a pattern here… Mr. Santiago was running from Olivia also—just as he had Penelope. He told Penny he loved her and then disappeared. He probably told Olivia he loved her as well, then disappeared on her. The man truly is fickle and cannot decide if he wishes to get married or not. But Charlotte couldn’t tell Penelope this just yet. She wanted to confront him first, if he even came to Lyden Castle for the party, which Lady Adina expected he would.

Charlotte hoped she was wrong, though she saw the similarities in both stories—a growing affection, a stolen kiss, then the man disappears. She’d always considered herself a fairly good judge of character, whether human or equine. And Mr. Santiago seemed the most respectful, honest, and sincere young man when it came to his affections for Penelope. Could it be because he still cared for Penny? Could that have been why he fled Olivia’s grasp? But if he did still love and desire Penny, then why did he not write to her? That was the thing that boggled Charlotte’s mind. She’d been witness to their blossoming relationship during those weeks before the season started last year when Penny was staying with her.

It had seemed obvious to Charlotte that Mr. Santiago was besotted with Penelope. She and Isabel had been about to press their mothers for invitations for Nathaniel. He was the grandson of a British nobleman, even if his father was in trade. His mother now resided in Bath with his aunt, and both ladies were widowed. His uncle, the earl of Chawsbridge, was the one who’d found Mr. Santiago his position as a translator for some government official in Egypt, India, or some such.

Penny and Isabel were her two best friends. Charlotte would do anything for them, including protect them from men whose only intent was to break their hearts. She wouldn’t even have to ask to know that instinctively they would do the same.

“I don’t know what to make of it,” Penny said, her voice flat and hollow-sounding. When she sat up on the bed, eyes glazed over with shock of the evening’s revelations, Charlotte realized her friend was still in a great deal of pain. Penny’s eyes were swimming in tears, and the dark circles from the previous year had returned. “While I think I’m happy there is no agreement between them, I have many questions for him.”

“I also have questions,” Isabel mused. “But it would be considered ill-mannered of me to ask Miss Olivia directly.”

Charlotte agreed. “Could it be that he is still on his mission, and that is why he hasn’t written to you?”

“I think he said he was to leave the country,” Penny said. “That he had to go somewhere to do this translation work for the government.”

“Scotland is technically another country,” Charlotte added. “But what is he translating, Gaelic?”

“His specialty is the various dialects of the Arab countries,” Penny said. “I was under the impression that his mission was very secret and dangerous. But that doesn’t explain⁠—”

“—What he’s doing with your cousin in Glasgow,” Charlotte finished.

“Do you think if you went to Lady Adina,” Isabel said, “and asked her what brought Nathaniel to Lyden that she might tell you? It seemed to me that she knew much and intentionally divulged little.”

“I got that same feeling, too,” Charlotte said. She thought about the countess’ treatment of her daughter-in-law and granddaughter, and added, “Did you get the impression that Lady Adina just…” Charlotte struggled for the right word, “that she just tolerates Lady Edgar and Olivia? As though she didn’t seem to take them seriously.”

“I did,” Isabel said. “And it boggles the mind.”

“He’ll be arriving soon. I can feel it.” Penelope’s voice cracked, which meant she was going to cry again. “What do I do if he doesn’t remember me, or care? What if he is returning because he wishes to win Olivia’s hand? She is beautiful and young…”

As her friend began to cry, Charlotte took the kerchief from her pocket and handed it to her weepy friend. Penny was the first of the three of them to experience a broken heart. Charlotte and Isabel had yet to set their hearts on any man. And with the way Penny had been for the past year and a half, Charlotte wasn’t so sure she even wanted to fall in love, much less get married. Eventually she wanted to have a child, but being in the family way meant she’d have to give up riding for the duration and that wasn’t something she wanted to consider just yet. She also didn’t want to ever be the watering can that Penny was right then.

“He cannot possibly want to marry her, Penny,” Isabel said. “I spoke with her, and she has a brain filled with goose feathers. All she spoke about was shopping, her season in Edinburgh and how she wanted to have one in London next, and how handsome Marcus is. Then, she specifically said she was not fond of riding, and your Mr. Santiago sits a horse like he was born on one.”

“What on earth can they possibly have in common?” Charlotte asked.

“I know that I will have to take part in the festivities when they begin,” Penny said, “but until they do, I wish I could stay in my room.”

“We haven’t yet told you about Doctor Gowrey,” Isabel said.

“Oh, Penny,” Charlotte gave her friend a sorrowful stare, suddenly remembering. “Lady Adina has asked him to come see you tomorrow if you are still ill.”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing you know,” said Isabel. “The young doctor from Edinburgh is handsome. And Mr. Santiago just might realize what he’s passing up if he chooses Cousin Goose Feathers over you.”

Penelope laughed—a nervous sounding titter—through the tears. This freed Charlotte to laugh, then Isabel.

Before Charlotte left Penny’s room for her bed, she resolved that she would confront Mr. Santiago for the pain he caused her friend. He owed Penny an explanation and an apology.

And Charlotte was going to make sure he did both!

2

Isabel

“As long as I don't bend over or take a deep breath, I shall be the perfect image of grace and elegance at Lady Adina’s birthday party," Isabel concluded as she turned from the mirror to face her friends and her maid.

"If ye get too uncomf'table come back an’ I'll loosen it up a bit more," her maid said.

"Why didn't we buy new costumes for this party?" Isabel tugged yet again at the top of the bodice of her burgundy dress cut in the medieval style which was her costume for the night. Heaven forbid anyone thought her vulgar because of the abundant display of flesh above the gold piping on her bodice. She regretted not trying the dress on before leaving town, but there was nothing to be done about it now, especially as the bodice had already been let out twice before. There wasn’t enough material remaining to let it out again.

"Because there wasn't enough time to have new ones made," Penelope said. "We didn't learn about Aunt Adina's desire for a costume party until right before we left. Mother suggested these as we wear them at least once a year, and haven't yet this year."

"Ugh," Isabel muttered on a huff. "I think I've grown since I last wore it. It feels like I'm coming out of the top of this square bodice."

"I've seen worse. Remember what Miss Amity Childers wore at the Ambrose masque," Charlotte said. "I swear each time she took a deep breath every man within twenty feet of her got a peek at the crest of her nipples."

"I feel… too exposed now," Isabel said. "It is definitely the last time we go as the Fates, unless I can get another dress made."

"Do that after we return to London," Charlotte said, pacing impatiently in front of the bed in the room Isabel was assigned in Lyden for the duration. "Now, come on, we've hidden in here long enough." Her cream-colored gown swished as she swept toward the door. Charlotte extended her hand to Penny and added, "Your mother went downstairs ages ago."

"I'm not hiding," replied Isabel, "I'm trying to decide whether or not to change dresses."

"No changing dresses," Charlotte said. "I've been listening to the carriages arriving for the past thirty minutes. My room faces the front drive, if you’ll recall."

Penelope pressed her fist into her abdomen—a sign, Isabel knew, of her increased nervousness over her meeting with Mr. Santiago now that they learned the gentlemen had arrived from Isabel’s maid. "I'm not so sure I can—,” Penny began, only to be cut off by Charlotte.

"You can," she said. "We have a plan, remember? And Doctor Gowrey is looking forward to dancing with you. He said so! Didn't he Isabel?"

Isabel stepped away from her maid, finally ready to go below. "Penny," she said, "we will be with you the entire time. You will not be alone with Mr. Santiago at all, unless you want to be." Isabel would make sure of it. That man would never again have the opportunity to charm his way into her heart as he had the year before.

"You cannot hide in your room the entire month," Charlotte added. "Even if we went with your mother next week—assuming she is still going to Edinburgh now—we cannot hide. That is the worst thing you could do."

"Yes," Isabel said. "It tells him that you still mourn your relationship.” Isabel wanted to tell her dearest friend how much she admired her strength and composure in the face of dealing with her cousin Olivia, and now the arrival of Mr. Santiago. But, if she told her now, Penny might think Isabel was just being nice. She loved Penny, and her friend was handling this pain and heartbreak with far more grace than Isabel would if she were in the same position. Isabel, unfortunately, had inherited her mother’s passionate nature, and struggled with it occasionally when there was something she felt strongly about.

"You're right," Penny closed her eyes as she pushed back her shoulders and breathed deeply.