Better than a Present
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Cynthia Moore
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
Better Than
a Present
by
Cynthia Moore
Holiday Series
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Better Than a Present
COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Cynthia Moore
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: info@thewildrosepress.com
Cover Art by Tina Lynn Stout
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First English Tea Rose Edition, 2014
Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-367-4
Holiday Series
Published in the United States of America
Praise for Cynthia Moore
Exceptional Writing Award
won from Ellora’s Cave
at their annual conference in October 2012
Dedication
“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,
while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”
~Lao Tzu
Chapter One
London, late spring 1818
It was the third occasion she had noticed him at a ball that Season. Miraculously, this time he stood in the queue to request an introduction from her aunt and possibly inquire if he could partner her in one of the upcoming sets. Regrettably, her dance card was full. The last space had been filled in moments before by a short, portly gentleman named Mr. Sidney Bass who was a particular friend of her Aunt Grace.
Managing to keep a cheerful expression on her face, Lady Samantha Grayson placed her hand on Lord Torrington’s sleeve, the gentleman who was to be her partner in the next quadrille, and turned away from the crowd of eager suitors with a sigh of frustration. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the man who had so piqued her interest turn away and walk toward the doorway.
As Samantha moved to her place before the quadrille began, she was conscious of an ache in her chest that made it hard to breathe. She realized there was moisture forming at the corner of her eyes. She looked down at the floor, blinked the tears away and attempted to dispel her intense feelings of disappointment by deliberating on the cause of her attraction to the unknown gentleman. He was undeniably attractive; tall, athletically built, with thick black, slightly wavy hair, high cheekbones, and a firm chin gracing a lean, chiseled profile. From the start, she had been fascinated by the deep blue color of his eyes when she’d discovered him studying her intently from the edge of the dance floor at Lord and Lady Redwood’s ball a few weeks before. Samantha had been eager to discover the man’s identity from that moment. She had intended to inquire if her aunt was acquainted with the gentleman and beg an introduction but her plan was quickly foiled by that lady’s announcement that she would take Samantha and her sister Sara to another party that evening. They had left the ball minutes later.
Samantha placed her gloved hand on top of Lord Torrington’s and then curtseyed to his bow as the dance began. Her thoughts were far away from her activities. For some unknown reason she felt a special connection to the elusive gentleman. The second occasion she had noticed him had begun with nothing more than a casual glance across the room. She spotted him strolling in a group of people moving toward the main door of the establishment. Moments later, he had left the party. They had exchanged fleeting looks at each other before he abruptly departed. Even with such momentary contact, Samantha knew instinctively this was a man she would like to become acquainted with.
Without knowing him or actually speaking to him, she could somehow sense he wasn’t concerned about following society’s strictures or rules. Not that he was outwardly snubbing people or conducting himself without style or manners. To the contrary, on the three occasions that Samantha had seen him, he appeared to be relaxed and unhurried, polite to all who spoke to him. He lacked the nervous, panicked demeanor of so many of the gentlemen she had been introduced to this Season.
This commonplace attitude was very trying as well as frustrating when attempting to carry on an intelligent conversation. Additionally, Samantha found herself unable to fully concentrate on the discussion when confronted with a gentleman who kept twisting his head around to avoid poking himself in the eye with his heavily starched shirt points. It was also quite disappointing to discover one’s dance partner had nothing of interest to discuss with her other than the possibility of rain on the morrow.
Something told her that this man was different. She had noticed his skin was lightly tanned by the sun so she imagined he enjoyed spending most of his time outdoors. He also wore his clothes with a casual grace. He radiated a classic, elegant type of sophistication. There was no need for him to be encumbered by impossibly high shirt points or brilliant, flamboyant colors on his waistcoat that were currently favored by many who were intent on outdoing each other with the hope that their audacity would bring the notice of the Season’s prized young ladies in the famed marriage mart.
Rather, he chose to avoid drawing comment by wearing clothing with a subtle dignity and, in the short period of time Samantha had demurely scrutinized him, she noticed that this habit as well as his friendly, amiable manner caused his acquaintances to treat him with obvious respect and admiration.
Samantha had long ago acknowledged that she greatly valued her own independence. She loved spending as much time as possible outdoors. On days when bad weather kept her inside, she loved to read books describing the native trees and flowers of Great Britain. She had a secret wish to someday visit Cornwall and see the lovely gardens there by the sea. Granted, a young, unmarried woman had to conform to many of society’s strict guidelines. Until this spring when she had finally agreed to have her Season with her younger sister, Samantha had managed to indulge herself in these enjoyable pursuits and avoid the beau monde milieu with the constant round of visits, events, outings and balls that one was required to attend when one resided in the city of London.
****
Lord Paul Russell bowed to his hostess and thanked Lady Forester as he accepted his hat from the butler who hovered nearby. Placing the hat upon his head, Paul nodded to the servant, walked out of the opened door and strode down the marble steps to the street.
He sighed with great disappointment as he moved away from the Forester mansion. There would be no more opportunities this Season to be introduced to the lady who had attracted him from the moment he saw her dancing a waltz at Lord and Lady Redwood’s ball a few weeks earlier. This afternoon he had received a summons from his steward at his small estate of Windmere in Saltash, Cornwall to return as soon as possible because a recent downpour had caused major damage to some outbuildings and walls near the inlet. His steward needed him to see the actual destruction and to determine how he wished to proceed with the repairs.
Paul had had high hopes that he would at least have been able to secure a dance with Lady Samantha Grayson tonight. He had managed to learn her name when he ov
erheard a spiteful, seemingly jealous lady bemoaning her popularity with the other eligible gentlemen as he stood waiting patiently to sign her dance card this evening.
Now it was his turn to lament the lady’s well-favored attraction. He had arrived at the ball almost unfashionably early tonight only to be waylaid by Lord and Lady Everard who were very close acquaintances of his parents’. It would have been extremely boorish as well as bad-mannered to have brushed off their inquiries about his family in his haste to discover Lady Samantha’s whereabouts.
By the time he finished his conversation and made his way to the ballroom, he had found his quarry surrounded by a crowd of eager gentlemen waiting to request a dance with the lady. Not one to cause undue attention to himself, Paul joined the group and serenely stood by for his opportunity to speak with her.
A few moments later, his disappointment was acute as Lady Samantha indicated her dance card was full. She turned away from the remaining multitude of crestfallen gentlemen to join the quadrille with her extremely fortunate dance partner at her side.
As he began to come to terms with his keen feelings of frustration over missing his chance to become acquainted, he deliberated over the reasons for his powerful attraction to Lady Samantha. To be certain, she was a beautiful woman. Her heart-shaped face, full red lips, sparkling emerald eyes, all framed by abundant auburn hair swept up into a generous cluster on the crown of her head had drawn him to her in the beginning.
Until he had spotted her waltzing at the Redwood’s ball, Paul had been unhappy with the current crop of eligible women he had met during the Season. He was tired of the simpering, coy young misses who seemed to dominate the group. Whenever he had attempted to carry on an intelligent conversation about something other than the weather with these women, Paul was met with blank, uncomprehending looks or simply breathy, nervous giggles often followed by timid, witless agreement to his question or statement.
For some reason, Paul had a sense that Lady Samantha would be different. In the few occasions he had observed her, Paul never saw her acting like a shrinking violet. She held herself with a confidence that told him she was quite comfortable with the way she was and not unduly concerned or nervous about finding a gentleman to marry her.
He also had the impression that she had a refreshing interest in the world around her and he was certain if he had had the opportunity to chat with Lady Samantha, their conversation would have been lively as well as interesting. He had observed her conversing with several people and he had noted that she appeared to carry on her discussions with acumen, using direct eye contact and giving all of her attention to the person or persons she was speaking with.
Paul could also discern that Lady Samantha was an outdoor person. Not only did he notice her skin was lightly bronzed by the sun, he also sensed a healthy vitality about her that was lacking in so many of the other women he had met. Spending time outside was important. Not only did he enjoy taking long walks and rides, he often assisted his head gardener in planting new trees and flowers on his estate in Cornwall. He was weary of the languid, droopy qualities he found in ladies who spent most of their time indoors.
Paul took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh as sensations of intense regret at his failure to secure an introduction to Lady Samantha this Season engulfed him. As he climbed the stairs leading to his lodgings to collect his belongings in preparation to leaving London, he wondered if there was any chance the lady would remain unattached and available the following Season.
****
Christmas Eve
Samantha regretted her choice of borrowed garments. The snow storm appeared suddenly without warning on Christmas Eve morning. To make matters worse, the horse acquired from her brother-in-law’s stables had taken exception to the frigid, icy weather and bolted, leaving Samantha dazed in an untidy heap on the newly-fallen frozen slush with a backside that was becoming more uncomfortably cold and wet by the minute.
Samantha struggled to stand and sighed as she watched the mare disappear over the rise of the hill in front of her. She was stuck out in the middle of the deserted woodland without any prospect of an immediate return to the snug confines of her sister’s home. The animal was certainly headed back to the protected warmth of the stables. She grimaced as another bit of cold snow found its way inside the collar of the bulky groom’s coat she was wearing. She stamped her feet in loose boots and slapped her hands encased in overly-large gloves against her legs that were covered in a roomy pair of breeches in an ineffective attempt to keep warm. She peered anxiously out from under the brim of her floppy hat for any sign of shelter.
****
The original idea for her adventure hadn’t seemed so fraught with concerns and hazards. Samantha simply wished to get away on her own for a while; outside in the fresh air for a quick morning ride, before it was time to dress in her finery and the afternoon’s Christmas Eve festivities began. She wanted to escape from her deliriously happy, newly married younger sister, Sara, Lady Dixon. Sara met her husband Lawrence Appleton, Viscount Dixon at a ball in London in early May. Never mind that it was Sara’s first Season. The pair had quickly fallen in love and married just two months later.
Now Sara wanted nothing more than the same kind of happiness for her older sister. Sara was concerned over Samantha’s continued unwedded state at the advanced age of twenty-four. From the moment Samantha arrived at the Dixon country estate in Berkhamsted accompanied by her maid several days before, Sara had done nothing but discuss and consider various options for a plan that would allow Samantha to meet the man of her dreams and assure her own joyful union before too many months had passed.
At first, Samantha tolerated Sara’s well-meaning attempts to find her a potential husband. But as the days went by and Sara hadn’t stopped talking about the subject or listened to Samantha’s opinions on whether she believed she could ever find a man to love as Sara had, Samantha began to feel trapped. In the beginning, she listened to her sister with tolerable amusement but now Samantha was becoming angry and frustrated. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t had her own Season albeit at an advanced age. Samantha was twenty-three and Sara had turned nineteen when they both had their Seasons together.
When Samantha was eighteen years old and Sara was barely fourteen, their parents, the Earl and Countess of Grayson had been killed in a carriage accident. Their family had been extremely close and the sudden loss of their beloved father and mother had been terribly hard for Samantha and Sara to accept. The girls moved in with their aunt, Lady Grace Anson in London when their own home had passed to the heir, a distant cousin from Scotland.
After the year of mourning for their parents passed, Samantha turned down her aunt’s offer to chaperone her during the Season when she was nineteen. She still felt deeply saddened by her shocking loss and not ready to put on a glowing smile for the stipulated number of balls and parties she would be required to attend. Instead, Samantha informed her aunt that she would prefer to wait until Sara was of age and take their Seasons at the same time.
Just a few months previously, Samantha and Sara had each been presented in Court and gone to a number of events in London. Samantha had met many amusing gentlemen and handsome lords but none had spawned any lasting interest and certainly no one had stolen her heart in the way that Sara appeared to feel about her new husband. Her thoughts drifted back to the mysterious gentleman who had commanded her attention a few months ago. She often found herself mulling over the reasons for her continued preoccupation with him. She had to admit to herself, he was the only man ever to bring forth such intense sensations of regret and disappointment inside of her when she considered her failure to secure an introduction to him. She consoled herself with the thought that if the two of them were meant to meet, the occasion would surely have occurred before her Season ended.
When June arrived, Samantha had had more than enough of the never-ending amusements and she decided to set up her own house. She was perfectly happy at present living with her old nurse Mr
s. Simms and her maid, Bertha in a small cottage her father had left to her on the outskirts of London. Surely she was old enough to decide how she wanted to live her own life? Her sister needn’t act like she knew Samantha better than she knew herself!
In this crabbed and discouraged state of mind, Samantha had decided to escape the confines of her sister’s home and go for a morning ride. The evening before, she convinced Bertha to procure a pair of boy’s breeches, a shirt, coat, boots, gloves and hat from the grooms’ quarters inside her brother-in-law’s stables. Bertha reluctantly complied with her mistress’s request and early this morning, just as the sun was rising, she helped Samantha struggle into the groom’s outfit.
She was gratified to discover that the items of clothing Bertha collected fit her small frame tolerably well. All except the boots fit loosely but without any need for adjustment. Samantha stuffed a stocking inside the toe of each of the shoes and judged them quite comfortable for her purposes. She instructed her maid to meet her at the rear kitchen door in three hours’ time with a change of clothes; judging that her safe return would lessen the severe scolding her sister would no doubt give her if she discovered what Samantha had done before she got back to the house.
The sky outside her bedchamber window was clear with the faint outline of many stars. Samantha instructed Bertha to fasten her long auburn tresses securely to the crown of her head. Satisfied that her hair was anchored firmly in place, Samantha clamped the cocked hat down so it hung low over her forehead just above her eyes. With a silent nod of thanks to her apprehensive maid, she picked up the boots and tiptoed out of the room in stocking-covered feet.
When she reached the entry at the bottom of the main stairs, Samantha paused momentarily to look for any sign of Grimm, the butler. She breathed a sigh of relief when she detected no sign of activity. She had counted on the fact that the servants would be preoccupied with many extra tasks required to prepare for the Christmas Eve celebrations that afternoon.