The Ladies’ Secrets: A Historical Regency Romance Box Set Read online

  Most people preferred Whitefern. The history, the vast lands, the artwork and ostentatious designs… those suited the idea of what people thought a noble’s house should look like. But Thomas preferred something simpler. This house suited him just fine.

  It was rather nice to find someone who finally appreciated the house the way that he did. Regina had been a delight to show around.

  If she was so appreciative, Thomas was sure that Bridget would be as well. Regina had said that Bridget had been more like a mother to her than a sister. He hoped that meant their tastes were similar.

  He couldn’t deny that he was excited about the prospect of winning Bridget’s hand. He knew that it was selfish of him. Theoretically he should have helped Regina no matter what. She was in need of him. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.

  But he was also a bit of a selfish man. He wanted Bridget and now he could have her. Call him a cad for it but it was far less than what some other men had done. And he hadn’t even asked. Regina had offered the idea up willingly.

  He would help her and he would win the hand of the woman he loved. It sounded like a win-win situation to him.

  If only Regina could pull off the card playing.

  Chapter Ten

  The first and biggest hurdle for Regina was figuring out a way to see Lord Harrison without causing a scandal. She had to meet with him regularly to practice. The masquerade was only a month away, after all. But she couldn’t be seen stopping by his house every day.

  Fortunately, their precarious situation worked to her advantage. Louisa was accompanying Elizabeth to visit Mr. Denny’s estate up north. Mr. Fairchild would by fortunate coincidence also be there. Louisa and Mr. Fairchild could have some time together to discuss matters. And meantime, Elizabeth could get to know Mr. Denny better.

  Bridget had made it clear that Elizabeth was to accept Mr. Denny’s proposal. Regina wasn’t so sure. Elizabeth was stubborn. Mr. Denny would have to prove himself a man that could stand up to her without belittling her. Regina was a little doubtful of Mr. Denny’s ability to manage that.

  While Louisa and Elizabeth were gone, Bridget and Natalie would receive suitors for Natalie. Bridget would help Natalie to settle upon one. At the same time, Bridget would be helping Father handle the handover of the estate to Lord Pettifer.

  The thought of Bridget dealing with Lord Pettifer made Regina’s stomach churn. But what else was there for it? Father was all muddled over the legalities. And even if he wasn’t, he was in a state of despair.

  That was the hardest part about all of this. Regina had never seen her father like this. He hardly ate. He seemed to have sunk into himself. He was like a husk of a man.

  Bridget had determined that Father go to Bath. It was the best place to heal and rest up. The Morrisons were staying there and had happily agreed to take him in. Father would be in good hands with them. And, even better, he wouldn’t have to be there to watch his home handed over.

  That just left Regina.

  She waited until it was late in the evening. Bridget was in Father’s study going over the accounts. The candlelight showed the lines of exhaustion on her face.

  For a moment Regina simply stood in the doorway, watching. It made her heart ache to see her sister like this. There was so much to do in preparation for the hand over. Not for the first time she felt a spike of hot anger in her chest at Lord Pettifer.

  How dare he do this to her family. He knew the situation that she and her sisters were in. It would have been bad enough had one or two of them been married. But all of them single? All of them without home or honor? All of them women unable to enter the navy or the clergy to save themselves?

  It was the lowest. Regina would have slapped him if she could. She relished the thought of seeing his rat face go red from the palm of her hand. She wanted to see those beady eyes go wide with shock and fear. She wanted him to cower in front of her.

  But there were few circumstances under which she could slap him and escape with her reputation. She would have to settle for beating him at cards. She quite looked forward to the look on his face when she bested him. She knew it would be something to behold.

  That is, if she won. And she would have to win. There would be no second chance. The masquerade ball was where the Morrisons got to break all the rules of society. Nobody could say for certain that Eliza McAvoy and Edmund Branson had been passionate in the third guest room last year. Nobody could claim for certain that it was Lucas DeWitt who’d had too much to drink and splashed about in the fountain.

  And so nobody would be able to say for certain that it was Regina Hartfield that played at cards this year.

  The masks kept everyone anonymous. That meant that the normal rules of society were gone. Or, rather, as gone as they would ever be. The Morrisons had gotten the idea from Carnival down in Italy. It was especially celebrated in Venice, they said.

  If Regina didn’t win on the night of the masquerade, she would have to wait an entire year before trying again. And the next time Lord Pettifer would be ready for her. Regina couldn’t have that. In a year it would be too late.

  She had to act now. This was her one chance.

  With that knowledge in hand, she approached her sister.

  “Bridget?”

  It took Bridget a moment to respond. This was a sure sign of her sister’s exhaustion. She blinked slowly down at the paper in her hand. Then, dragging her head up as if it weighed a ton, she looked at Regina.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” Regina said. “But I had an idea.”

  “You’re never bothering me, darling,” Bridget assured her. She smiled, but Regina could see the exhaustion in it. “Go on then.”

  “You said that I need to practice more at being out in society. And I know that you said I don’t need to worry about marriage. I am the youngest. But I should make a good reputation for myself. For when, you know, the news hits.

  “The Morrisons have a house in London, as you know. I was thinking I could stay there. Mathilda Morrison’s mother is there. She can serve as my escort to balls. And I can call on people more easily there. It will give me a chance to become properly known in society.”

  She added a little shrug. “And who knows? I might even find a suitor.”

  Some of the tightness in Bridget’s face and shoulders seemed to leak out. “Are you sure about this?”

  Regina nodded. “It is up to us to preserve our family’s reputation. I must do my part as well.”

  Bridget set down her pen. “As much as it would pain me to be parted from you… how much it pains me that the entire family must split up… it is a wise decision that you make.”

  She smiled up at Regina. “I’m very proud of you, darling. I know it can’t be easy for you.”

  “It isn’t,” Regina admitted, and it was true. It wasn’t easy to leave Bridget. It wasn’t easy to leave the safety of her home. She had never lived in a city before. And she’d never lived alone without Bridget or Father in charge.

  But what scared her and what she wanted didn’t matter anymore. She didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was her family. What mattered was saving them.

  Bridget held out a hand. “Come here.”

  Regina took her sister’s hand and allowed Bridget to pull her in. She sat down on Bridget’s lap, just like when she was a child. Bridget slowly passed a hand over Regina’s hair.

  “You know no matter how old you get you shall always remain my baby sister,” Bridget said. “It’s hard for me to see you grow up. Almost as hard as it is for you to grow up. And perhaps I’ve babied you too much. But you are a woman. You can make your own decisions. In fact you must. So do what you think is best and don’t let me influence you unduly.”

  Regina nodded. “I won’t. But I shall abide by your council. You raised me well.”

  “I should hope so.” Bridget kept stroking her hair. “London is a busy place. It is also full of temptation. Use your head and do what you know to be right. Don’t let anyone sway yo
u away from that.

  “And,” she laid her hand over Regina’s, “Protect your virtue. There are rakes everywhere but London seems to have an especially high concentration of them. Keep your wits about you. Don’t be swayed by a handsome face or handsome words.”

  Regina nodded.

  Bridget sighed. “I shall hate to see you go. But I think you are wise. London will be good for you. Get out into the world. Establish yourself. You’ve been cooped up in here for too long.”

  Regina nodded again. “You know that you have been the best of sisters to me. I told someone just the other day that you are like a mother to me. I couldn’t have asked for a better guide than you.”

  “I am not without fault.” Bridget gestured at the papers spread out on the desk in front of her. “Look at this. I should have put my foot down long ago. If I had pressed, I could have cut off Father’s gambling.”

  “He is our father,” Regina replied. “And he is the man who owns the land. You couldn’t have truly stopped him. Not if he was determined.”

  “I could have at least tried harder.”

  “And I think we still would have ended up here.” Regina bit her lip. “Bridget?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you ever loved like Father has?”

  “What do you mean, darling?”

  “Well, after Mother died,” Regina explained, “that’s when the gambling started. Or when it got really bad. I can hardly imagine it. I mean they talk about it in my books. But can you really love someone so much that losing them makes you lose your senses?”

  “When it’s hard for us to accept a bad truth, we delve into distractions,” Bridget said. “And when we lose someone, it is beyond our control. So we try to find things that we can control. Father couldn’t control the loss of Mother. So instead he tried to control the cards.

  “It’s not a bad thing to love someone that much. But I think it’s a bad thing to let that love take away your spine. Love shouldn’t strip away who you are. It should make you more of who you are. It should embolden you.”

  Bridget paused, as if running her words back over through her head. “Does any of that make sense?”

  “A little.”

  “And to answer your question, yes. I loved like that once. Or I thought I did.”

  Regina straightened in her sister’s lap. Bridget had never told her of this before. “What happened?”

  “We could not marry.”

  “Why not?”

  Regina racked her brain but could not recall a time when Bridget had favored anyone. If her sister had loved, she had done it in utmost secrecy.

  Bridget shook her head. “When did you become so curious?”

  It was because she wanted to test the waters of Bridget’s heart. She wanted to see how easy or difficult it would be to turn her affections toward Lord Harrison. But she couldn’t tell Bridget that.

  Instead she said, “With all this talk of you all getting married, it made me curious. I know that things have become such that you cannot even marry for affection. Never mind marrying for love. But I do want to know.”

  Bridget laughed lightly. “I think you have been reading too many of your Gothic stories. But you will deal with marriage soon enough. I suppose it’s only fair that you know a bit.”

  She thought for a moment. Her gaze was far off. Regina waited patiently.

  After a moment or two, Bridget spoke.

  “There were three things standing in our way. Three very sensible things. The first was that we were young. Quite young. Young enough that marriage at such an age was not prudent. It was considered that we did not know our own minds. And I suppose that may be true.

  “The second was that Mother died. And I had a very young, very sweet little sister to raise. Father was beside himself as well. Someone had to look after the household.

  “The third was that the family did not approve of me. My suitor was sent away to live with an uncle for a time. Pains were taken so that our paths should never cross again.

  “And that is all there is to say about it, really. We were young, the family did not approve, and fate was against us.”

  Regina wondered how her sister could speak so plainly about something as deep as love. “I am sorry.”

  “What for?” Bridget looked at her, startled. “None of it is your fault.”

  “But if you hadn’t had to take care of me—”

  “Nothing would have changed the family’s disapproval of me. You had no hand in that. And it was a joy to help raise you. You are my darling sister and I would not take back a second by your side.”

  Regina felt tears welling up and she hugged her sister fiercely. She felt terrible about bargaining for her sister’s hand with Lord Harrison. She had used Bridget in that, used her like property. But there was nothing to be done about it now.

  “You are the most loving sister that ever lived,” Regina promised her. “Not one of us deserves you.”

  Bridget laughed, holding Regina tightly. “Now, now, what brought this on? No tears, darling. I know it all seems very scary right now. But if we hold our heads up high and persevere, this storm will pass. I promise.”

  Regina wanted to explain that wasn’t why she was crying, but she couldn’t. Not without giving the entire game away. Instead she just nodded into the crook of Bridget’s neck.

  “Have you really never seen that suitor again?” She asked. “After all these years?”

  “Never.” Regina could feel Bridget’s shoulders move as she sighed. “But then I might not even recognize him now. So much time has passed. He is probably married by now anyhow.”

  “There are other men out there,” Regina said. She pulled back so that Bridget could see her face. “Good men. I know you’ll find one of them to love.”

  Something pained flashed across Bridget’s face. It was there and gone in the space of a heartbeat—so fast that Regina couldn’t be sure she had read it right. “That is very sweet of you. I appreciate your faith in me and in the men of this world.”

  Regina smiled at the teasing tone in Bridget’s voice. She’d do anything to help raise her sister’s spirits. “I shall try and find you a man in London,” she declared.

  Bridget laughed. “If you can, I shall be both surprised and grateful.”

  Regina slid off of her lap and stood up. “Shall I write to the Morrisons then and ask them?”

  “I shall write them,” Bridget said. “You may add a note of your own. But as you are still young it is best if I ask formally.”

  “Thank you!” Regina said. She flung her arms about her sister’s neck and kissed her cheek. She felt giddy and lightheaded. It was almost like she was a child again. “Thank you, thank you!”

  She then hurried off. She was in little doubt that the Morrisons would say yes. That meant she had packing to see to.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Morrison house in London was enough to make her jaw drop. Regina always forgot how much money the Morrisons had until it was staring her in the face. She had never been to their London residence before. She had expected—perhaps naïvely—that it would be similar to Lord Harrison’s house.

  It wasn’t. Lord and Lady Morrison had clearly gone all out in their preparations. The house was done up in rich colors. Each room had its own color: soft pink in the front parlor. Powder blue in the sitting room. Red in the dining room. Yellow in the back parlor.

  The house was also twice the size of Lord Harrison’s. Regina got lost on her first day. The housekeeper had to help her get back to her room. She had to admit that the house was beautiful, tasteful, and showed off Lord Morrison’s wealth. There was nothing distasteful about it. And yet, she preferred Lord Harrison’s house.

  Lord Harrison’s house had felt like a proper home. There was love in each decorating choice. The Morrison house felt more like it was designed to be shown off.

  Still, she couldn’t complain. Lady Morrison’s mother was a lovely woman. Regina had expected nothing less. Lady Morrison,
née Mathilda Braxton, was a lively woman. She was educated and had a sparkling sense of humor. She also liked to skirt impropriety. She did it in such a way that it entertained people and just barely stopped short of a scandal.

  Her mother, unsurprisingly, was the same. She was full of life and energy despite her age. And she insisted right away that Regina dispense with the “Mrs. Braxton.”

  “I am to be your hostess,” she said, “and I want to be one you can properly confide in. Call me Jane, as you would your girlfriends.”

  “I don’t have any girlfriends,” Regina admitted. There were just her sisters. And only Bridget could really be called a friend. Louisa was nice enough, but they weren’t close. And Natalie and Elizabeth merely tolerated Regina.

  “My daughter is,” Mrs. Braxton pointed out. “But if you think she doesn’t count, then I shall be your first.”

  Regina wasn’t quite comfortable with calling her ‘Jane.’ Especially with so many years between them. They compromised and had Regina called her ‘Aunt Jane.’

  “I know the sort of temptations that London is full of,” Aunt Jane said. “I only ask that if you grow curious, you tell me. I shall show you how to do things properly.”

  Regina could only begin to imagine the sort of things Aunt Jane referred to. But she thought she might test the waters slightly.

  “What if I wanted to learn something that ladies ought not to learn?”

  “Such as?” Aunt Jane asked.

  “…such as…” Regina thought. “Well, cooking.”

  “Then I would say that’s an odd thing to want to learn, but I won’t stop you,” Aunt Jane replied.

  “And what if I wanted to keep odd hours?”

  “I would ask you not to wake me.”

  Aunt Jane put her hand over Regina’s. “My dear. My daughter had her own time sampling what the world had to offer. As did I. As long as you are smart about it, I see no reason for any of it to cloud your future or your reputation.”

  Regina was not so sure of that herself. But she was grateful for it if it meant that Aunt Jane wouldn’t ask questions.