Chapter One
London, March 1815
‘The London Season is abominably dull,’ Lady Frederica Stringham said, to no one in particular.
Her mother had once again refused to let her go to the factory with her that morning. It was scandalous enough that a duchess owned a perfumery and actually oversaw its day-to-day dealings. But working there or at the fashionable shop on Bond Street was quite out of the question for an unmarried debutante of theton.
Frederica stood next to a window as tall as a person and three times as wide. She stared at the rain pouring on the cobblestone street of the exclusive Berkley Square—brick and stone mansions in the best part of London. Wishing instead that she was in Greece with her sisters and their father. Papa had accompanied them on their journey, but only planned to stay for a month or two to get them established in a good place. Frederica had spent over a year with her married sister Mantheria in Italy, but Mama now insisted that she attend the London Season. She was one and twenty after all andunmarried.
Perish the thought.
And whilst flirting with dandies was delightful and playing cards with Corinthians was charming, no suitor had captured her heart. Although, she did enjoy kissing several of them. Another thing debutantes werenotsupposed to do.
Frederica yawned, walked back to the sofa, and slouched down in her seat. Stacked beside her on the side table were all the Maria Edgeworth books from the lending library. Picking them up, she saw the titlesBelinda,Castle Rackrent, andTales of Fashionable Life. She had read them all. If only she could return them and select more without her mother coming with her. Debutantes in London were guarded more closely than treasure. Listening to the raindrops pelt against the window, she let out another sigh.
A footman with a white-powdered wig opened the door for her mother, the Duchess of Hampford. Her mother was an older version of herself, with the same hazel eyes and brown hair, although showing some grey now. She was an inch or so shorter than her daughter, yet her figure was still trim where it ought to be and generous where she would wish it to be. The fragrant smell of lilacs and rock rose clung to her. She gave her favourite daughter a look of reproach.
‘Lawson, you may shut the door,’ the Duchess said majestically. ‘Frederica, sit up at once. I will not have you slouching like a hoyden. You would think you were a chit out of the schoolroom, instead of a young lady in her twenties.’
Frederica sat up stiffly. All right then. This was going to be a business meeting. ‘Yes, Mama.’
Her mother sat on a chair beside her and said in a more coaxing tone, ‘My nerves have been in shreds these last few weeks, but at last, all of my worries for you are over.’
Stretching out her arms, she smiled. ‘I do not think I am about to die. In fact, I am in perfect health.’
‘Stop it, Frederica,’ Mama said in a sharp tone. ‘This is no time for funning, Samuel is finally coming up to scratch.’
That wiped the smirk off her face and she lightly touched her throat. ‘But his father only died less than a month ago.’
Mama brushed a finite piece of lint off her beautiful pink morning dress in what appeared to be silent frustration. ‘Lord Pelford will be arriving this afternoon to make you an offer of marriage.’
Frederica’s mouth fell open. ‘I cannot believe it! He has not seen me in seven years and he did not like me much then. He was always criticising me and prosing on about proper behaviour.’
Her mother sighed and folded her arms. ‘You are acting like this is a surprise. You were named after his mother and a union has been planned between our two families for years.’
Squeezing her hands into fists, Frederica stood up and walked to the window. Her heart palpitated and black spots blocked her vision. ‘I thought... I thought after Mantheria’s disastrous marriage to a duke, that you would have changed your mind. Glastonbury was not faithful to my sister for even six months.’
Dropping her eyes to her folded arms, her mother sniffed. ‘Samuel is not like Glastonbury. I have known him his entire life and he is a steady, intelligent young man. He would never be unfaithful to you. Glastonbury was too old for Mantheria and I was too foolish to realise what a mismatch it would be. I admit that I was blinded to his many weaknesses by his wealth and position.’
‘Including Lady Dutton?’ Frederica asked, knowing full well that her mother knew about Glastonbury’s long-time mistress before he married her sister.
Mama closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. ‘We assumed wrongly that he would give her up. You have no idea how much both your father and I regret giving our consent to the match. We resolved to not bring out a daughter at seventeen again, deeming it too young to make a good choice for a spouse. You are more mature at one and twenty. You are well-educated and well-travelled. I believe you will make the right choice.’
Her blood boiling, Frederica threw her hands up in the air. ‘But you are not giving me a choice! You are marrying me to a man who will disapprove of everything I say and do.’
‘If you had found another young man who caught your fancy when you debuted at nineteen, we would have supported you,’ she said slowly as if Frederica was still a small child. ‘But after two years, you have not. And I will not attempt to deny that I did everything in my power to secure for my daughter a husband of the highest rank.’
Frederica’s hands shook and fluttered. ‘Have you bought me a husband?’
‘I bought you a title—the husband comes with it.’
A giggle escaped Frederica’s lips. Drat her mother for making her laugh when she was trying to throw a proper tantrum. ‘It is all about town that Samuel inherited very little beside debts and mortgages from his father, besides a younger brother and mother to keep.’
Mama got up and walked to where Frederica stood by the windows. ‘A union between our two families was planned almost from the day of your christening. Lady Pelford has been just as determined as myself for this day to come. She has invited us to stay countless times at Farleigh Palace to improve your acquaintance with her son.’
‘Little good it has done either,’ Frederica said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘I was eight years of age and he eleven, when Samuel and I learned that we could not endure each other’s company. And since then when forced together, we have done our very best to make each other miserable.’
‘Well, I suggest that you stop trying to make him miserable when he is your husband.’