The Spinsters Secret Read online

  Alice smiled and gave the man a nod. “My Lord, it is a pleasure,” she said, though she did not believe the words.

  “Miss Huntington,” Lord Ashbury replied. “It is an honor to meet you, as well.

  “Well, if you will please excuse us,” she repeated, for she was certain neither man had heard her first request, “we are going to get some air.” She grabbed Emily’s hand once again, and before either man could comment, they were moving through the crowd of people. Alice gave a few polite smiles but kept her eyes straight ahead on the door. Escape was so close at hand she could taste it.

  “Alice, Emily, wherever are you two going?” her mother asked as she stepped between the door and her daughters. Alice silently admonished herself for being so focused on the door and going outside that she did not see her mother.

  “Mother,” Alice said as her mind calculated the best words so her mother would not stop them from leaving, “Emily and I were going to step outside for some fresh air for just a moment.” When her mother went to speak, more than likely to order her daughters to use their fans to cool themselves, she leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “I'm afraid Lord Ashbury has taken to Emily, and she needs a moment to calm down from the excitement of it all.”

  Mrs. Huntington’s eyes lit up, which was exactly what Alice had hoped. “Oh, Emily! I am so happy for you.” Her eyes turned to Alice and the excitement ceased. “Well, at least one of you has the common sense to use this occasion to find a suitable partner.”

  Alice had expected the comment—or something like it, so she allowed her mother’s words to roll off her much like rain on an umbrella. Although she knew her mother loved her despite her life choices, disappointment at those life choices still emerged at times.

  “One would think you would be able to learn from your younger sister. Look at her.” She grabbed Emily’s hands and lifted them up appreciatively. “Beautiful, smart and willing to make your father and me very proud.”

  Emily smiled. “Mother, you and father have provided the best for me. So, in turn, I want to do my best to make you both happy.” She turned a glance toward the man they had recently met and giggled. “And if it includes a man such as Lord Ashbury, well, that is even better.”

  Alice choked back a sigh. She could not blame her sister for her excitement; marriage was what most women wanted. Even she, Alice, had wanted to marry at one time, but that time had passed and she was happy now just as she was.

  The door to the veranda opened and cool air from outside caressed Alice’s cheek, reminding her of her previous destination and her desire to be there and not here. However, when she turned, Alice found herself face to face with one Lord Johnathan Blackmoore. The Earl of Lidenburg was thirty years of age with dark hair and cold, calculating brown eyes. Though Alice thought few men handsome, she thought him especially so. How she hated that she found herself attracted to his well-formed torso, muscular legs, and handsomely chiseled jaw, for she had heard more than once—more than likely a hundred times—the stories of his roguish ways. Stories abounded of his trysts with any maiden willing to give herself to him. It repulsed her and yet somehow excited her at the same time, which in turn irritated her even more.

  However, he mostly repulses me, she thought firmly.

  Mrs. Huntington elbowed Alice. “Eyeglasses. Now!” she said in a whispered hiss.

  Alice stared at her mother, but when the woman shot her a glare, she reluctantly removed her eyeglasses and placed them in her pocket.

  “Ladies,” Lord Blackmoore said with a slight nod. His eyes roamed over Emily quite openly, and Alice wished she could slap him soundly for doing so. However, she clasped her hands together tightly to keep them from doing so of their own volition.

  “Lord Blackmoore,” her mother said in a sing-song voice, completely oblivious to his brazen scrutiny of her younger daughter, “we are happy to have you in our home.” She lifted her skirts and gave him a curtsy. Emily followed her mother’s example and also curtsied; however, Alice had to be prodded to do her part in what she considered to be a complete waste of time. She might not be a woman from a titled family, but she felt herself above this roguish Earl. At least on a moral level. The man had no decency, and Alice wondered how her mother could be so blind as not to see it.

  “Most are happy to see me,” he said with a half-smile that resembled more a sneer. The man was so pompous, he could have lit the entire room for a week with his arrogance.

  Alice glanced over at Emily, who stared wide-eyed at the dashing man before them. Oh, how the girl could use some instruction on what type of man Lord Blackmoore was. In all the times she had encountered the man he was rude and self-possessed, and Emily was much too innocent to deal with this man on her own.

  Lord Blackmoore glanced around the room as if searching for someone, acting as if the three women in front of him were no longer important enough to receive his attention. It was not his utter arrogance or obvious rudeness to her mother as the woman tried to engage him in small talk that bothered Alice. Nor did the tales she had heard; what he did in his private life had no bearing on her own. Plus, she was confident more than one of those stories had to have been invented by jealous adversaries. Certainly not all, but perhaps a few. No, what truly bothered her, if she were completely honest, was that he chose to ignore Alice completely, and the fact it upset her made her want to scream.

  “Lord Blackmoore,” Alice said when her mother seemed to realize he was not interested in sharing in small pleasantries, “thank you for attending our party. However, I am sure you are not here to engage in conversation, and I do not wish to hold you back from the business meetings you most certainly have planned during our lovely soiree.” She put out her hand, not because she truly wanted him to kiss it, but to force him to at least acknowledge her existence.

  However, he did not respond but rather allowed her to stand with her hand out in front of her like some sort of ninny. Then he had the impudence to openly ogled her bosom before bringing his eyes back to her face! “Do not worry, Miss Huntington,” he replied, “no man—and certainly no woman—stops me from anything I wish to do.”

  Alice stared at the man. How he could be so discourteous was beyond her, especially in her own home, but she refused to allow him to upset her—or at least have him see her upset. Without another word, Alice moved toward the door, making certain that her foot came down on his with as much force as she could muster without appearing to have done it on purpose.

  “Oh!” she gasped dramatically. “I beg your pardon, My Lord. I did not mean to step on your foot, but I can be quite clumsy at times.” She removed her eyeglasses from her pocket, placed them back on her nose and gave a satisfied nod. Then she moved through the doorway without waiting for a response from the man, practically dragging her sister behind her. She pretended not to hear her mother calling after her as the crisp night air hit her face and she made her way to a small bench where she plopped herself down, not caring whether or not her sister sat beside her.

  Despite her unwillingness to allow the man to ruffle her feathers, she could not help but want to go back inside and add a quick kick to his shin. How dare he come to her home and treat her in such a horrid manner?

  And why did she permit a man such as Lord Johnathan Blackmoore to upset her so?

  Chapter Two

  Johnathan Blackmoore stared down at the defiant woman who stood before him. What Miss Alice Huntington failed to realize was that he had no interest in dealing with a woman who made attempts to set herself above men, especially one who acted as if she were above her station. She needed to learn her place in society, and quickly. He had visited Glassberry Estate on only a handful of occasions, and Johnathan had observed the woman make a fool of herself more than once. Perhaps she was smitten with him and that was why she found walking in his presence so utterly difficult. It would not have been the first time he had caused a woman to swoon.

  He had bedded his fair share of women, some brash and open, while
others were of virtuous morals—the latter typically with promises of marriage on which he never followed through. Miss Huntington could be pleasing to the eye, though she peered at him as if in a squint. Was the woman blind? Or perhaps mad? The severity of her gown and hair did not help matters, either. It was no wonder the woman was a spinster. He could not imagine having her on his arm at a pub let alone at a formal affair. Yet his bed? Yes, he could consider it.

  Mrs. Huntington stared at him as if in awe, and Johnathan held back the urge to laugh at her. In the end, Johnathan had no qualms about mocking either Mrs. Huntington or her daughters. Women had a place in society, and these women were beneath him, far beneath him. Mr. Huntington was not even titled! What compelled him to keep his laughter at bay was the fact that Miss Huntington had been correct; he was there for business and not for merrymaking.

  “No man—and certainly no woman—stops me from anything.” Johnathan smiled when he saw the smug look on the young woman’s face quickly fall.

  The two young women went to move past him and pain shot through his foot and up his leg. The elder of the two had stepped on his foot! And although she apologized, Johnathan could not help but wonder if she had done the deed on purpose, for her tone was almost mocking. When she placed the eyeglasses on her nose, the spinster look was complete. All ideas that the woman could possibly be handsome were thrown out the window as far as Johnathan was concerned. The pair then went out the door through which he had just entered and were soon out of sight.

  Mrs. Huntington smiled at him; however, she wrung her hands in front of her as if she had a secret she could not tell. Was she hoping he would engage in further conversation with her? “I apologize, My Lord. I am afraid our Alice is as defiant as ever. Yet, is she not a lovely woman?” She shook her head. “There must be a man out there for her…somewhere,” she added the final word in an almost whisper.

  “I supposed there is,” Johnathan replied, but offered mercy to the poor soul who considered marrying her. On every occasion in which he had seen the young woman she had tripped, dropped something or sent something crashing to the floor. The woman lacked in both grace and decorum.

  A bout of laughter made him turn and he spotted Lord Ashbury having a hearty conversation with a group of other men with whom Johnathan had various levels of acquaintance and all of whom were Johnathan’s elder. Not that Johnathan was concerned with the age of the men; he could converse with the best of them. What did concern him was the fact that Johnathan knew very well that Lord Gregory Ashbury had his sights set on getting his hands on some of the Huntington fortune. That would not be a bad thing in itself, but there was that chance the man would somehow push Johnathan out of the way to get what he wanted. And as Johnathan had told the elder Huntington daughter, no man stopped him from anything on which he had his eyes set.

  As if hearing his thoughts, Mrs. Huntington leaned in toward him. “It seems Lord Ashbury has taken an interest in our Emily,” she said with a proud smile, her earlier nervousness now gone. For what reason the woman felt the need to share such drivel with him, Johnathan did not know. In most circumstances, Johnathan would rebuke such conversation; however, tonight he chose not to do so. He had a business meeting with Mr. Huntington, and what he could gain from this family was well worth a few moments of idle chitchat. Thus, he gave the woman a polite smile as way of hoping she would simply leave it at that.

  Unfortunately, she mistook it as a sign to continue. “Soon they will marry,” Mrs. Huntington said. “Of course, our Emily will produce a gaggle of children, including a lovely heir to continue on the Ashbury title.”

  And there it was, the true reason for the woman’s excitement concerning the possible union of her daughter and Lord Ashbury. Marrying one’s daughter off to a titled man was a drive of women in Mrs. Huntington’s position. A marriage such as the one she spoke held promises for the parents to reap very hefty rewards, even if the Huntingtons were far wealthier than most in the ton. It sickened Johnathan to just think about it.

  “Oh, but where are my manners?” Mrs. Huntington said as if a thought had just occurred to her. “I am keeping you from the party. Please, enjoy yourself, My Lord.” She finished with another well-practiced curtsy.

  Johnathan felt great relief when the silly woman walked away, and he wondered if what her husband had to offer was even worth the troubles he had to endure to simply meet with the man. He signaled to a footman, who hurried over with a tray of drinks. Johnathan downed a brandy in one gulp, replaced the empty glass on the tray and grabbed another, this time sipping the contents. It was not the best brandy Johnathan had ever had but it also was not the worst, and it left a pleasant burning in his throat that reminded him of why he was there. In all honesty, Johnathan very much needed what the man had to offer, and the idea that he was in this position was frustrating.

  He thought on what Mrs. Huntington had conveyed to him about her younger daughter, Miss Emily, and Lord Ashbury one day having children. Heirs to the Ashbury fortune. Although Johnathan had no interest in marriage, a lesson he had learned years ago, he did need heirs. His cousin Frederick was next in line for his title, and Johnathan would see everything he owned burned before he allowed that dimwitted fool to inherit anything from him.

  Although Johnathan needed an heir, he had no end of women to ease his physical urges. He had entertained himself with Eliza, a scullery maid in his household, for quite some time whenever the need arose. However, the woman became amorous, as well as quite possessive, to the point that she believed herself to be equivalent to the lady of the house and began making demands on the housekeeper. A ten-pound note and a hasty goodbye had seen her out the door in no time. Yet, it was not a bedmate he needed. No, he needed a woman who could produce a legitimate heir, remain quiet, and keep out of his way.

  “Lord Blackmoore,” Mr. Huntington said, breaking Johnathan from his thoughts. “I see you have arrived.”

  Johnathan noticed the man’s cravat had come loose and was slightly askew and his brow was dotted with sweat, although he had not seen the man move further than the few steps he took to speak with Johnathan.

  “Huntington,” Johnathan replied dryly. “I was just having a lovely conversation with Mrs. Huntington. It seems she is quite happy about the possibility of Ashbury and Miss Emily courting.” The words fell from his lips as dust, the topic of conversation was so unpleasant; however, his desire to do business with the man forced him to speak so. All parents enjoyed speaking of their children, or so Johnathan had noticed, and perhaps bringing the subject up would put him in the man’s good graces.

  “It is true,” the man replied with a wide grin. “As a matter of fact, he just asked permission to visit her tomorrow afternoon. Of course, I readily accepted. Yes, Lord Ashbury and I shall engage in many a new business venture once he and my Emily are wed.”

  Johnathan clenched his fists, once again hoping Ashbury’s offer of courting the younger Huntington daughter would not interfere with Johnathan’s own dealings this night.

  Mr. Huntington snapped his fingers and a footman hurried over with a silver tray. Johnathan replaced his empty glass for a full one. “Come, Blackmoore, I have documents prepared in my study,” Mr. Huntington said, and Johnathan followed the man out a door and down a hallway lined with paintings of knights jousting or in the height of battle. Though Johnathan enjoyed a good depiction of men demonstrating their courage and valor, he found these representations of poor quality and the era to be darker than he liked.

  The study they entered was of typical décor with its oak shelving and heavy wooden desk. The room had a stuffiness to it, as if it was not aired regularly, and though it was large, Johnathan could not help but feel a bit enclosed in the dark space. How the man conducted any business in the room was beyond him; but, to each his own.

  Johnathan sat in a high-backed chair that, though cushioned, was quite uncomfortable. Mr. Huntington took the chair opposite after offering Johnathan a drink, which he refused. Unlike the man before
him, Johnathan preferred to keep his mind clear whenever he conducted business.

  “Are you enjoying the party?” Mr. Huntington asked.

  Johnathan held back a snort and replied, “Very much. Thank you for the invitation.” He could not have cared less about the damnable party and found the idle conversation despicable. “So, Huntington, I understand that you have access to a large number of heavy fabrics.”

  Mr. Huntington chuckled. Somehow the signs of inebriation seemed to disappear. “Not one for small talk, eh, Blackmoore?”

  Johnathan forced a smile. “I must admit that I prefer the conversation of business. Unless it is about women, of course.”

  The man let out a loud laugh. “Quite so,” he replied. “Very well. I do have several connections to the fabrics about which you asked the week prior. A Mr. Peterson of Cambridge has several patterns which might interest you.”

  “And for the price we discussed previously?” It was difficult for Johnathan to conceal his excitement, for the price was the best he had found in all of England. The cost of shipping what he needed would exude far above what he was willing to pay, and most merchants to whom he had spoken were only slightly less than that cost.

  Mr. Huntington cleared his throat and the liquid in his glass moved with the slight shake of his hand.

  Johnathan found his stomach knotting with suspicion. He had a keen sense for when someone had plans to deceive him, and he set himself on guard. What was the man up to? “You realize that these fabrics will line the best carriages in the country, do you not?” Mr. Huntington nodded but said nothing. “We have the opportunity for both of us to expand our fortunes. As a matter of fact…”

  “Let us cut the pretenses, Blackmoore. I know the difficulty of procuring what you need, and I know how badly you need it. The costs are astronomical, to say the least, and I have the best prices in the country.”

  Johnathan had to hold his tongue to keep himself from allowing his anger to get the best of him. “It may be true that it is costly, but it is doable. There are many avenues outside of England I could use,” —Johnathan leaned forward in his chair— “but I am not a greedy man. I prefer to do business with one of our own.”