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When A Marquis Chooses a Bride
By Ella Quinn KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
Copyright © 2016 Ella Quinn
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3958-7
CHAPTER 1
Early afternoon sun poured through the windows of the large airy schoolroom in Stern Manor. The space was filled with bookcases, four desks, two sofas, and sundry toys.
Miss Dorothea Stern sat on the larger of the much-used sofas, threading a strand of rose silk through her embroidery needle. She had one more Damask rose to complete before the slippers she was making for her mother were finished.
But no matter how hard she tried, she could not escape the fact that the neighborhood was sadly flat now that her best friend, Lady Charlotte Carpenter, was gone. For years, they had planned to come out together, just as they had done everything else since they were in leading strings.
In the meantime, there was a great deal to keep Dotty busy. Since her mother's accident, she had taken up Mama's duties. Dotty enjoyed visiting their tenants, talking to the children and their mothers, and finding ways to help them.
"Dotty," her six-year-old sister, Martha, whined, "Scruffy won't stay still."
Scruffy, a three-legged dog Dotty had saved from a hunter's trap, was resisting Martha's efforts to tie a ribbon on him. "Sweetie, boys don't like frills. Put it on your doll instead."
Fifteen-year-old Henrietta glanced up from the book she was reading. "She took it off the doll."
"Henny," Dotty asked, "aren't you supposed to be practicing your harp?"
Her sister stuck her tongue out. "No, I'm supposed to be reading Ovid in Greek."
Their father, Sir Henry, was a classical scholar and had been a rector before his older brother's death a few years ago. Much to Henny's dismay, he had decided to teach all the children Latin and Greek.
Dotty took in the book her sister held. The marble cover was a trademark of the Minerva Press novels. "That is not Ovid."
Puffing out a breath of air, Henny rolled her eyes. "Aren't ladies supposed to be fashionably stupid?"
"No, they are supposed to appear stupid," Dotty replied tartly. "Which is completely ridiculous. I refuse to marry a gentleman who thinks women should not have brains."
"If that's the case, you may become a spinster," Henny shot back.
"Lord Worthington likes that Grace is clever." Dotty resisted a smug smile. "I'm sure there must be other gentlemen who believe as he does."
Charlotte's older sister, Grace, was now the Countess of Worthington. She had taken all five of the younger children with her to London for Charlotte's come out. Shortly after arriving in Town, Grace had met and fallen in love with Mattheus, Earl of Worthington. They had wed three weeks later.
Not long ago, Grace and her new husband had returned to Stanwood Hall for a few days so that Lord Worthington, who was now guardian to her brothers and sisters, as well as his own sisters, could inspect the property.
Before Henny could retort, the door opened. "Miss" — Dotty's maid, Polly, glanced around the room, her gaze settling on Dotty — "Her Ladyship asked me to come fetch you."
Dotty pulled the thread through, secured the needle, and set the slipper down. "Is she all right?"
"Oh yes, miss." Polly bounced from foot to foot. "She got a letter from London and sent for you straightaway."
Dotty hurried to the door. "I hope everything is all right." There was nothing wonderful in receiving a letter from London. Practically everyone they knew was in Town for the Season. Mama and Dotty should have been there as well, yet the day before their planned departure her mother had slipped and broken her leg.
"No, miss," the maid said as she hurried after her. "Her ladyship was smiling."
"Well, I suppose the sooner I get to her, the sooner I shall find out what she wants." A minute later, she knocked on the door to her mother's parlor and entered. "Mama, what is it?"
Waving a sheet of paper in her hand, her mother smiled broadly. "Unexpected and wonderful news. You shall have your Season after all!"
Dotty's jaw dropped. She snapped it shut and made her way over to a chair next to her mother. "I don't understand. I thought Grandmamma Bristol couldn't sponsor me because of Aunt Mary's confinement."
"This" — Mama waved the letter through the air again — "is from Grace."
Dotty's heart began to beat faster, and she clasped her hands together. "What — what does she say?"
"After dear Charlotte received your missive telling her you could not come to Town for your Season, she prevailed upon Grace to invite you. She says" — Mama adjusted her spectacles — "having you would be no bother at all. She is bringing out Charlotte and Lady Louisa Vivers, Worthington's sister, you know, and one more in a household of ten children will hardly be remarkable. She comments that your good sense will be very welcome." Mama glanced up. "Not that I disagree with her. You do have a great deal of sagacity, but I am sure Grace said that for Papa's benefit. You know how he does not like to be obliged to anyone." Mama went back to the letter. "And it would be a great shame for you not to come out with Charlotte as you girls have planned for years." Mama set the paper down with a flourish and grinned. "What do you think of that?"
For what seemed like a long time, Dotty could think of nothing. Her mind had never gone blank before. It was almost too good to be true. She shook her head, and finally managed to find an answer. "I never thought ... Well, I mean I knew Charlotte was going to ask Grace, but I never even imagined that Lord Worthington would agree. Although her last letter said she missed me dreadfully. Lady Louisa, Worthington's sister, even wrote to me saying she had heard so much about me that she felt as if she already knew me and wished I was going to be in Town."
Suddenly, the fact that Dotty was actually going to Town hit her. "I really am going to have a Season!" She jumped up, rushed to her mother, and hugged her. "I wish you could be there as well."
Mama patted Dotty's back. "Yes, my dear. I wish I could go too, but Grace will take good care of you."
"When shall we tell Papa of Grace's offer?" What if her father refused to allow her to go? That would be horrible. "I'm not sure he will be as happy as we are."
Her mother glanced briefly at the ceiling and let out a sigh of long-suffering. "If he had his way, you would not come out until you were at least twenty. He has gone somewhere. I left a message to have him attend me as soon as he returns." She pushed herself up against the pillows. "We have no time to lose. There is so much to discuss. Polly," Mama said to Dotty's maid hovering in the door, "have the trunks brought down from the attic and start getting Miss Dotty's clothes together."
"Yes, your ladyship."
Once the door closed, Mama leaned forward a little and lowered her voice. "Papa will dislike the idea of you going to London without me at first, but don't worry, dear, I'll talk him round."
Dotty sat back down and folded her hands in her lap. They trembled a little with excitement. She was really going to be able to come out with her best friend in the whole world! "I should write to Charlotte and Grace to thank them."
"Yes, after it is all settled." Mama opened her pocketbook and wet the tip of the pencil with her tongue. "We must think of who will accompany you. Papa will not allow you to travel with only Polly to look after you. I believe Mrs. Parks said her sister was going to Town to visit a friend. I shall ask if she will look after you. After all, it will save her the trouble of booking and paying for another coach."
Dotty nodded. "Yes, Mama. I believe Miss Brownly is leaving in a few days. She planned to take the mail."
"Then she will be glad for a chance to ride in a private coach and break the journey at a good hostelry. Run along now and help Polly. I shall send for you after I have spoken with Papa."
Dotty kissed her mother before running in a very unladylike fashion up the stairs to her room. Four trunks already stood open and her wardrobe cabinet was empty. She started folding the clothes she found on her bed. "Polly, I do hope Mama prevails."
The maid paused to think for a moment. "I don't think Sir Henry has a hope against her ladyship." She gave a decisive nod. "She'll get her way."
Dotty smiled. Her mother usually did. "Still ... I'll feel much better when I know for sure that I'll be going."
* * *
Two hours later, Sir Henry Stern frowned at the letter in his hand as he ambled into his wife's parlor. "This is from Lord Worthington. I suppose you have one from Grace."
Lady Stern smiled. She loved her husband dearly, but there were times his self-sufficiency went too far. She had no intention of allowing him to spoil Dotty's Season. "I do indeed. I do not think I have ever been so pleased for Dorothea. She and Charlotte have dreamed of their come out for years, and all the new gowns we bought for her ... Well, I would hate for them to go to waste."
Her husband appeared unconvinced. "Worthington promises to take care of Dotty as he would his sister Lady Louisa and Charlotte" — his scowl deepened — "but, Cordelia, we would be entrusting her to his care. In London. And we do not know him that well."
"Henry" — Cordelia used her most patient tone — "we know Grace, and Worthington was perfectly amiable when she invited us to Stanwood Hall to dine during the few days they were here. He has a good reputation. Nothing smoky about him at all, as Harry would say." Her husband's lips folded together, and Cordelia rushed on. "Besides, Grace would not have trusted him with her brothers and sisters if he were not a good man."
"But looking after three young ladies?"
She almost laughed at the look of horror on his face.
"You forget Jane Carpenter, Grace's cousin, is still with them, and the Dowager Lady Worthington as well. The girls will be well chaperoned, and Grace commented on Dotty's good sense."
"Yes, well." He glanced at the missive and drew his brows together so that they touched. "As the Season is well under way, Lord Worthington asks for an immediate reply. I suppose I should write to him."
Cordelia smiled again. "Does that mean you'll allow Dorothea to go?" A bit of humor entered her husband's eyes. "I know you, my love. If I say no, I will never hear the end of it. You are every bit as determined as your mother. How do you propose Dotty make the journey?"
"You cannot complain about that, my dear. If we were not strong-willed, you and I would never have been allowed to marry." Cordelia struggled to keep the triumph out of her voice. It was fortunate that the Sterns had been friends with the Carpenters for generations. "I shall make all the arrangements."
"Very well, then. I know you'll send Dotty off as soon as possible. I do want a word with her."
"Of course, my love." Cordelia tugged the bell pull and called for her daughter.
* * *
Dotty's steps faltered as she entered Papa's study. Her stomach lurched as she took in his grim countenance. He was not going to allow her to go to Town. She may as well make the best of it. Getting into a state would not help. She took a breath and readied herself for the bad news. "Yes?"
"Your father wishes to speak to you." She whipped her head around, seeing her mother lying on a sofa. This must be important if Mama had had herself moved.
Papa came around from behind his desk and took Dotty by her shoulders. "You may join Charlotte for your Season. However, you know my feelings about this. You are still young, and there is no reason you must marry anytime soon."
She kept her face as serious as her father's. "I know, Papa."
He cleared his throat. "If a young man is interested in you, have him apply to Lord Worthington first. He will know best if the gentleman is suitable."
Dotty nodded. Relief and excitement rushed through her. Yet her father wasn't done yet. She waited for him to continue.
"With the number of inhabitants already in Worthington's household, and the dogs, you must promise me not to bring stray animals or people to Stanwood House. They won't appreciate it."
"I promise, Papa."
"Now, I must make sure the coach is ready."
As soon as her father closed the door, she gave a little shriek and hugged her mother. "Oh, Mama! Thank you so much. I shall never be able to repay you."
She patted Dotty's cheek. "Yes, you will, by having fun. Though mind what your father said. With all those children and two Great Danes, the Worthingtons do not need three-legged dogs or half-blind cats, not to mention homeless children."
"Yes, Mama. I'll do my best." Dotty grinned.
Everyone loved Scruffy. The cat was the best mouser they'd ever had, and Benjy was turning into a fine groom. People and animals only needed a chance in life. Nevertheless, her parents had a point. Bringing strays home to Stern Manor was one thing, taking them to someone else's house quite another matter altogether. Dotty said a quick prayer that she would not meet anyone in need of help.
CHAPTER 2
Dominic, Marquis of Merton, settled into his apartment at the Pulteney Hotel. His pride still stung at having been ejected from his cousin, Matt Worthington's, town house. Blowing a cloud was the latest thing. Not that Dom would attempt to smoke in White's, that was not allowed, but he outranked Worthington and should have been treated as an honored guest, not summarily told to leave. Still, it was probably convenient that Dom did not actually enjoy smoking, as he was sure the Pulteney would not allow it either.
He should have gone on his Grand Tour instead of taking a bolt to Town. But his mother had received a letter informing her of his cousin's plans to wed, and he decided starting his own nursery would be the most responsible course. After all, the succession would not look after itself, and he had a duty to his family and dependents. Perhaps he would travel after he married.
Not that Dom truly wished to leave England. He liked an ordered life and travel was sure to disrupt the structure with which he was comfortable. He did not wish to visit France at all. Any land where the inhabitants would murder their betters held little interest for him. It all came back to the proper order of things. Life was much better when everyone followed the rules and knew their places.
He reconsidered opening up Merton House for the Season, but there was really no point when his mother was not here as well. Without her to act as his hostess, he would not be able to plan any entertainments other than for his friends. The hotel would suit for the short time he planned to spend in Town. It should not take him that long to find a wife. He was a marquis. Even without his considerable fortune, he would have been a desirable parti.
"Kimbal," he called to his valet.
"Yes, my lord."
"I shall be dining at White's."
"Yes, my lord."
Dom scribbled a note to his friend Viscount Fotherby asking if he would like to join Dom for dinner. By the time he was dressed and had donned his hat, Fotherby's answer affirming the invitation had arrived.
A short while later, just as a light sprinkle turned into a persistent rain, Dom handed his hat and cane to the footman at White's and found his friend lounging in the room that held the club's famous betting book. William Alvanley, another of Dom's friends, was seated next to the window with another man staring intently at the rain.
He turned to Fotherby. "What are they doing?"
"Five thousand quid on which raindrop will reach the bottom of the sill first."
Despite being close with many of the Prince Regent's circle, Dom could not abide the excessive wagers his friends made. Alvanley would end up ruining himself and his estates at the rate he was going. "Are you ready to dine, or are you awaiting the outcome?"
"Famished." Fotherby tossed off his glass of wine. "Thought you weren't coming to Town this year."
"My plans changed." Dom and Fotherby entered the dining room. "I have decided to take a wife."
"Wife?" Fotherby choked. "Any idea who?"
"Not yet, but I have a list of qualifications. She must be well-bred, not given to fits of temper or strange starts, quiet, biddable, easy to look at — I must get an heir on her after all — know what is expected of a marchioness. And not prone to scandals. You know how my uncle hated them. I think that about covers it."
"A paragon, in other words."
Dom gave a curt nod. "Indeed. I could wed no one less."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from When A Marquis Chooses a Bride by Ella Quinn. Copyright © 2016 Ella Quinn. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP..
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