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Overview
The countryside of England provided an idyllic backdrop for Charles Brumley’s and Leah Hastings’s childhood. Neighbors and best friends, the pair passed many happy days racing through the rolling hills of Derbyshire. Everything was perfect—until Charles ruined it all and abandoned Leah for university. Six years later, the former friends are thrust into each other’s paths once more. Leah had been looking forward to the ball, an opportunity to further her acquaintance with the handsome Mr. Wilkins—but when she sees Charles’s familiar face through the crowd, her traitorous heart leaps. Charles faces his own struggle: he has loved Leah since he was fifteen years old, yet it seems he is too late—it appears that her affections are otherwise engaged. As the pair tentatively renews their friendship, the spark between them is undeniable. After so many years apart, Leah endeavors to reconcile her feelings toward her once cherished companion. But when a conniving rival for Charles’s attention approaches Leah, the threat is clear: give up her association with Charles or a devastating secret about her family will be revealed. Faced with an impossible decision, Leah must make a choice—the ruin of her family or the ruin of her heart?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781524402327 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Deseret Book Company |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2017 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| File size: | 1 MB |
Read an Excerpt
An Inconvenient Romance
A Regency Romance
By Chalon Linton
Covenant Communications, Inc.
Copyright © 2017 Chalon LintonAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5244-0026-2
CHAPTER 1
Mr. Charles Brumley
* * *
Derbyshire, England, Early Fall 1817
My mind swayed with the carriage while I thought back on the day my heart changed. My chest had ached, which I first attributed to my sprint across the meadow. Then I realized that the aching didn't begin or end with my exertion. Instead, the pain was burning from the inside out and really was not painful at all.
My revelation occurred almost six years ago when I looked back at Leah, tendrils of brown hair cascading over her shoulders, free from their regular braids. In the moment I took to look at her, my feet tangled, and she leapt swiftly past me to claim victory. She reached the garden path, and in those mere seconds, in that mere glance, from her smile through her ragged breath, I knew. Though I was only fifteen, I realized I did not want to be without her — ever.
Thinking back on that day provided a mixture of happiness and nostalgic longing. I leaned my head back on the plush seat of the carriage.
"What are you smiling about?" my sister, Rachel, asked.
"I was simply wondering how you could be so excited for a simple country ball," I lied.
"Don't tease me, Charles." Rachel clasped her hands together, holding them to her chest and offering a starry-eyed gaze into the distant nowhere. "It may not compare to the grand routs in London to which you are accustomed, but you know I've dreamt of this night my entire childhood."
Rachel's dramatics made me chuckle. She dropped her hands to her lap and shot me a disparaging look.
"You found out only yesterday that you would be able to attend," I reminded her.
"Yes, well, that's because Mother didn't realize you would be home to escort me, and she was not feeling well enough to come herself." She jutted out her chin, and her soft curls bounced around on the back of her head.
"So despite the teasing, you are grateful I'm here?" I asked with a grin and raised eyebrows. She allowed her eyes to dart towards me for a quick second then resumed her defiant posture. "Otherwise, all of your childhood dreams would have come to naught. And at the tender age of fifteen, it would have been such a pity." I looked at her with mock solemnity. "And now you are in my debt, seeing as how I rode into town on my white stallion just in time to take you to the ball."
Rachel pressed her lips together, exhaled through her nose, and said, "Your horse is brown, Charles. And I am not a character from the Brothers Grimm. But, yes, I suppose I can endure your incorrigible behavior and even," she paused, raising her chin a little higher, "acknowledge that I am grateful."
"Well, well, Rachel, perhaps you are ready to be whisked around the dance floor." I had come as a favor to Rachel, but I had also come as a favor to myself. It had been far too long since I'd been home.
At Cambridge, I had immersed myself in school, only returning home for Christmas holiday. There were frequent thoughts of Leah and our days spent in the sun. I'd memorized every freckle on her face and every errant curl on her head. The memories brought comfort when I was studying for an especially hard exam or when the wind in the trees taunted me to come run in the clean air. The pains of homesickness never hit, yet often there was a nagging pain in my chest — right over my heart — and I knew I felt sick for her.
Leah should, and I most ardently hoped would, be in attendance tonight. Surprising Rachel had been enjoyable, but I longed to see Leah's face when I asked her to dance.
The carriage stopped then lurched again as we continued forward, awaiting our turn to disembark.
Rachel's eyes were wide, and she wrung her gloved hands in her lap. My lips curved as I observed her youthful innocence, at the same time acknowledging the havoc my nerves were inflicting on me. My stomach tightened, and in response I flexed my muscles, hoping to control the knots that were forming.
We finally pulled to a complete stop in front of the entrance and waited for the footman to lower the step. After a deep breath, I exited and turned back to offer a hand to Rachel. She gathered her skirts and gave me a weak smile. Looking at her, I wondered what I had to fear. This was far from the first ball I had attended, and a simple country gathering could in no way compete with the grand crush of London. But neither could the cold and distant ton compare to the eager company flooding into the Assembly Hall.
Yet it was not the ball that caused this uneasiness to engulf me. Rather it was the prospective company. Though I had no right to think of Leah as mine, I did. We had seen each other sporadically over the past six years — when I would return for holiday or, most recently, when I returned to bury my father. But I had thought of her every day. From my moment of enlightenment on that summer afternoon, Leah had consumed my spare thoughts, and to be honest, she consumed more than that. I thought of her when I studied poetry and when I walked the banks of the Thames. I thought of her when I attended the theater, remembering the makebelieve stories we used to enact on the bluff near her home. I thought of her always — waiting, anticipating the time when I could confess all the feelings of my heart and ask her to be mine.
Rachel tugged on my arm, bringing my attention back to her. The doors of the Assembly Hall taunted me. The volume of the gathering crowd intensified and washed like a wave through the mass of attendees.
My last trip home had been ten months ago. As soon as Father's funeral had concluded, I left. I could not stomach the gossip, the stares, the sympathy, nor the pain. But Mother had written once again, urging me to return and tend to the estate, and my excuses had run thin.
Mother had also informed me that she was unwell and that Rachel, my only sibling, desperately wanted to attend this, her first ball. It was not the first time Mother had asked me to come home, but something in this particular letter urged me forward. Perhaps the mention of a certain handsome captain who seemed set on courting Leah. Mother did not mince words. I rode home immediately.
Rachel stood on her tiptoes and whispered near my ear. "See, they are all eager to see you."
"Don't be ridiculous," I scolded her, flexing my arm to play with her further. "They are merely in awe of your beauty, for you look very lovely tonight."
Rachel's cheeks burned bright, and she looked at her feet as we entered the hall.
The happy murmur of voices quickly returned to a lull, and my eyes scanned the exterior walls, searching for the face that filled my dreams.
"Mr. Brumley!" a deep voice boomed. My attention turned from the borders of the room to focus on Mr. Harrison, who was suddenly much too close.
Rachel tugged again on my arm. "Oh, Charles, there is Gwendolyn. She looks divine! May I please go join her?" "Yes, if you promise to save me the first dance."
Rachel agreed and scampered away, and I resigned myself to limit my search for Leah to what I could see over Mr. Harrison's shoulder.
The man provided a detailed update on the state of Mrs. Harrison's health, complete with an in-depth description of Dr. Hutchins's most recent diagnosis.
Thankfully, the musicians took their seats and the next dance was called. After extricating myself from Mr. Harrison, I turned to retrieve Rachel. I pushed through the crowd, and while everything was familiar, it was crushing. Mothers seeking introductions for their daughters, old friends wanting to reacquaint, and I had already lost sight of my sister, the sole reason I had come — or so I claimed. In my continuous search for Rachel, I made excuses all around and pushed through the crowd.
After wedging myself through a boisterous group of women, I emerged to find a rainbow. Laughing — and somehow I knew it was at me — was Leah.
A smile, reserved for a long time, erupted, and I immediately crossed to her. My initial instinct was to sweep her into a hug, as I had my sister when I had arrived home the day before. It seemed the natural thing to do. But my arms stiffened at my side, and instead of an embrace, I bowed.
Leah matched my smile and curtsied in return.
To see those eyes — her bewitching brown eyes smiling back at me — I lived that blessed epiphany all over again.
I had imagined this moment so many times, played it out in my head — how natural the conversation would flow, like all those years ago. I opened my mouth, waiting for the words to form.
"Miss Leah, I believe you have promised me this dance."
Only the words weren't mine.
A stranger, an officer in uniform, extended his hand, and with a slight blush, Leah placed her gloved fingers in his.
Leah bowed her head towards me again. "Excuse me, Mr. Brumley," she said with a smile and walked to the dance floor.
"I have the worst timing ever," I whispered under my breath. My heart felt like a horse had trampled every pulsing vein. I watched the blond soldier smile at Leah, and she coyly returned his gaze.
Rachel's sudden appearance at my side ended my subjugation. I had promised my sister a dance.
CHAPTER 2Miss Leah Hastings
* * *
I had been looking forward to the ball at the Assembly Hall for some time. Never in my dreams, or at least my recent ones, did I imagine Charles would be in attendance.
I had heard that Mrs. Brumley was unwell. Perhaps it was more serious than I had been led to believe. Aunt Evelyn had called at Riverton Park yesterday. Surely she would have mentioned if Mrs. Brumley was on her deathbed, for it would take such an extreme circumstance to bring Charles back to Derbyshire.
He hadn't been home since his father's sudden passing nearly ten months ago, and even then I had only spoken with him long enough to offer my condolences. I had wanted to offer more, but he was cold and distant. When his father died, so did Charles's carefree innocence. He wouldn't humor me in my attempts to lighten the moment or smile when I referenced some prank we had pulled years ago. His brown eyes had pulled back into their depths and turned cold; he returned to Town as soon as he was able, leaving the affairs of the estate to his father's former steward.
Now as he crossed towards me, I recognized all that was familiar, and as I slowly searched him a second time, I took in all that had changed. The boyish fullness of his checks had been replaced with a firm, confident jaw. He held his shoulders back with an air of superiority, one that seemed to fit the precise cut of his jacket. He was dashing to be sure, and while I was not surprised, I felt relieved to find my assessment of him to be so complimentary. The sun was back in his eyes. Gone were the shadows that had stolen his smile, and I knew they would not return tonight because he was smiling at me. Wide and broad and full of a warmth I recognized.
What could be the cause of Charles's evolution? Perhaps he had returned to share news. Could he be engaged? My heart jumped at the thought before I remembered I should not care if he were engaged. He was simply a friend.
I dismissed my folly and returned Charles's smile with one of my own.
He had barely reached me when the musicians completed tuning their instruments and signaled the beginning of the dance. Captain Wilkins came to claim my hand.
Captain Wilkins was the one I had dressed so carefully for tonight. I had wanted him to notice me, to gain some security of his affections. He had called several times at Astoria, but inside the drawing room with my sister and Aunt Evelyn, Captain Wilkins became quiet.
Sarah teased that he would make the perfect husband because my tongue would compensate for the both of us. She didn't know him as I did. Captain Wilkins was soft-spoken, but he was also kind and attentive and very well read. It also didn't hurt that he was an extremely handsome gentleman. His tan skin and golden hair testified of his love for the outdoors — as did his strong, square shoulders and well-tailored uniform.
Captain Wilkins and I had met during my short season in London. He had left for his station with a promise to call at Astoria when leave was granted. He had kept that promise and arrived in Derbyshire four days ago.
His long legs led me around the dance floor, and he showered me with attention and praise beyond what I deserved, but his admiration was nonetheless appreciated. I would need to thank my maid, Gerty, for the extra attention she paid to my hair this evening. Many eyes and whispers were directed towards us.
"You look lovely tonight," Captain Wilkins said. His lips turned into a soft smile, and I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, threatening to turn into a full grin.
"Thank you." I wondered why he kept his enthusiasm under such tight control. I wanted him to unleash, to show himself wholly, to share the secret behind his twinkling blue eyes.
The music dictated our steps, turning us past Charles and Rachel. I tried to catch Charles's attention, to remind him of the many times I made him practice dancing with me, preparing for a night such as this. Mr. Brumley remained focused on his sister, and my eyes returned to my partner.
The dance ended, and Captain Wilkins led me from the floor. The air hung heavy, and although he now held my arm, my skin was warm through my gloves. Heat resonated where our hands had touched.
"Would you care to dance another?" Captain Wilkins asked with such a direct stare that a burning began in my chest and crept up through my neck. He was so very handsome, and the cool blue of his eyes reminded me of an oasis — a reprieve for which I had been searching a long time.
He was waiting for my answer. It was too hot. My body could not carry me through another dance — at least not without cooling off first. "I think I shall step onto the terrace for some fresh air," I said, and Captain Wilkins's disappointment was immediately obvious. "Could I perhaps postpone your invitation until the waltz?" I asked. The waltz was a more intimate dance, and he accepted my suggestion with a suppressed smile and nod of his head.
"I'll get some punch," he said and walked towards the refreshments.
A waltz with Captain Wilkins would allow me to visit that oasis in rhythm to the swaying music, or perhaps it was simply the first thought that popped into my head.
I needed to breathe something cooler than the oppressive heat of the ballroom.
On the terrace, I leaned against the banister, listening to the giggles and declarations of love whispered from a bench tucked away in the shadows. I smiled and tried to conjure a breeze by fanning myself with my hand.
"Would this help?" Charles walked up beside me and proceeded to flap both of his hands near my face.
"Oh, stop!" I laughed and swatted his arm.
His dark eyes grew large in mocked offense; then his lips turned into a grin. We stood there, both of us watching the other, waiting for something to snap. Despite my many questions for Charles, he was the one who left. I would not be the first to begin.
An awkward silence hung in the stagnant air between us.
Finally, Charles cleared his throat. "How are you, Miss Leah?"
My face softened, and the burning in my chest subsided. "I am well, Mr. Brumley. What brings you home?"
"Rachel wanted to dance," he said simply.
"You are determined to be a good brother, then?"
He opened his mouth then closed it again and simply said, "I am."
The silence settled comfortably after letting those first words slide out into the night. Charles leaned his elbows on the railing and clasped his hands.
"Mother had not mentioned any regiments in Paddington," he said.
"There are none."
"And the gentleman you were dancing with?"
"An acquaintance from London," I said, feeling no need to explain to Charles how deep or shallow that acquaintance was.
As expected, he pressed for more. "And he's stationed nearby?"
"No, his unit is in Oxfordshire. Captain Wilkins is on leave."
"On leave? And he chose to come here?"
"Yes. Would you like to see his orders?" I asked curtly.
"No, that won't be necessary," he said casually. His lack of contrition stirred my anger.
"It may seem unfathomable to you, Mr. Brumley, but some people do prefer the country, Derbyshire, in fact, to anywhere else. It really is a delightful place if you recall."
Charles shrugged. "It's adequate."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from An Inconvenient Romance by Chalon Linton. Copyright © 2017 Chalon Linton. Excerpted by permission of Covenant Communications, Inc..
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