My new traditional (clean) Regency is almost ready to roll out. My designer, Lee at Halo Studios, is working on the cover and I am about to  hand it over to my editor who will ensure I haven’t committed such unforgivable sins as  dangling modifiers or run-on sentences. Then one last polish and brush up and I think it should be ready in a couple of weeks.

 

So, as a taste of what is to come here is the first chapter of:

Her Foolish Heart

Heatherton Hall, in the county of Somerset, was the property of Sir Richard Dudley, a gentleman of limited income, many liabilities and optimistic disposition. He was the possessor of a handsome wife, his second, two unmarried daughters and a son just down from Oxford.

At the present time they were all together, for it was Christmas and Edward, the son and heir, had reluctantly consented to celebrate the season under the paternal roof. The young ladies were seated in the morning-room with their Mama, while the gentlemen had strolled out of doors to inspect the latest addition to Sir Richard’s stable.

‘Well my dear, I hope your brother may be tolerably amused,’ remarked Lady Dudley to Miss Aurelia Dudley in her usual plaintive tone. ‘I had thought of getting up a little dance for you all. What do you think?  Would it answer?’

‘Oh Mama, only think how tedious,’ answered Aurelia, petulantly. ‘I dare say we could not find more than five couples that we would care to stand up with and I think I may answer for it that my brother would be intolerably bored.’

The elder Miss Dudley, the child of Sir Richard’s first marriage and, at six-and-twenty, some seven years older than her half-sister, interposed, although she had not been asked her opinion. ‘You mean that you would be bored, Aurelia. How very cross you are. I think it would be charming, Mama.’

The sisters were not at all alike. Marianne was the image of the dark-haired, dainty mother who had died at Edward’s birth. Miss Aurelia, on the other hand, was tall, angelically fair and so very lovely that even her habitually discontented expression quite failed to destroy her beauty.

‘I’m sure you are in the right of it, Aurelia, my love,’ said Lady Dudley, ignoring Marianne. ‘It is a pity there are so few families in the County worthy of visiting.’

‘To be sure. But as Marianne is not so nice, I am sure Mrs. Carter would be delighted to take her to the next assembly.’  She turned on her sister. ‘You may be sure of seeing all your common friends there and we will be spared the trouble of entertaining them at the Hall.’

Her strict sense of propriety prevented Marianne from entering into arguments with her stepmother but she was perfectly capable of dealing with her sister. ‘I am sorry you find my friends common. You move in such very refined circles yourself, of course.’

Aurelia gave an angry titter. ‘I suppose you mean to taunt me with the fact that your grandpapa was an earl while mine was but a Bristol merchant. I daresay he could have bought and sold your precious earl!’

‘Oh, I am sure you are right. But, just a hint Aurelia dear, it’s rather vulgar to talk about it.’

‘Oh, I do not dwell on it except that since Grandpapa made me his heiress, I shall expect to make a much better match than you, who will have nothing but what Papa settles upon you. Although how you expect to receive an offer at all considering the appearance you present, I do not know. I should be ashamed to be seen in such a plain gown. No wonder you are unmarried and on the shelf.’ She glanced down at her own over-trimmed gown with satisfaction.

This attack left Marianne as unmoved as the other. She had never admired the style her stepmother and sister favoured. Her gown was of soft, leaf-green merino, made high at the neck with just a ruffle of starched, white linen to frame her face. The sleeves were long, with tight cuffs, each fastened with a row of buttons that reached to her elbow. She looked elegant and ladylike which was all that she cared for. She had long accepted that, as her sister had so kindly reminder her, she was on the shelf.

Aurelia picked up a book and flipped idly through the pages. After a few minutes she began to fidget and, glancing at the clock, she wondered irritably where her father and brother had got to. ‘For Edward promised to take me into Taunton this morning and if he does not come in soon there will not be time before luncheon. I am particularly anxious to go this morning because I wish to discover when the ball at the Castle is to be.’

‘Really, is it certain then?’ enquired Marianne, looking up from her embroidery with delicately raised brows.

‘Well, Susan had it from her sister who is under parlour-maid. However, one cannot be sure and so I want to talk to Mr Tully, for he is certain to know.’

Fairmile Castle was the property of the Earl of Reddish, the largest landowner in the area. He rarely visited Somerset for his principal seat was in Norfolk but he was to spend the festive season among them for the first time in many years. He was a middle-aged man, a recent widower and childless. The news of his arrival would have created little interest in the neighbourhood had it not been rumoured that he would bring a large party of guests with him. Guests must be entertained and the young ladies in the neighbourhood thought it highly probably that the Earl would give a ball for them. From thinking it likely, they were very soon thinking it a certainty and no one was more impatient than Miss Aurelia to discover when the great event was to take place.

Marianne agreed that Mr Tully, the grocer, was the person most likely to be acquainted with what was going forward at the Castle, but she deplored her sister’s curiosity. It offended her pride that her family should be so very interested in the doings of the Earl, while she was tolerably certain that his lordship took not the slightest interest in them.

Before Aurelia had jumped up to look out of the window more than a dozen times, the gentlemen returned to the house. They walked into the peaceful morning room arguing amicably over the new acquisition’s points, thus awakening Lady Dudley who had been snoring gently on the sofa. Edward, a well-made, handsome young man with his sister’s dark hair and wide-set, grey eyes, was immediately reminded of his promise by his younger sister, and as they had all fallen into the habit of doing what Aurelia demanded of them, he agreed to drive her into the village in his sporting curricle. She hurried off to put on her pelisse and bonnet, leaving Edward to seat himself beside Marianne.

‘How do you go on, Sis?  Pretty well I hope.’

She smiled at him and reached out a hand to straighten his neckcloth. ‘Quite well thank you, Ned’

He put an arm around her and gave her a quick hug. ‘I know. You do not have tell me. I can see Aurelia has been her usual sweet self. You should stand up to her.’

‘Oh, I am accustomed to it. And you can hardly talk. Look how she pestered you into taking her into Taunton when I know that you do not in the least want to.’

‘Well, you know how I hate a row. Anyway, I’m only here for a couple of weeks. You have to live with her.’

‘She is not always so tiresome. She is merely a little spoiled, and very bored.

Sir Richard strolled over to his wife’s side from the fireplace where he had been warming his hands. ‘Well, well, it is good to see the family gathered together like this. It is all too rare that I have you all under my roof.’

‘Indeed it is,’ agreed his wife, smiling amiably at her husband. ‘I am sure I have not seen Ned for a twelvemonth for he was to have come to us this summer but nothing came of it.’

Edward looked a little uncomfortable at this and murmured something about it being time to be off. When Aurelia returned she was agreeably surprised to find him not only ready but eager to be gone.

‘Do you care to come too, Marianne?’ asked Edward as they were on the point of departing.

‘Good Heavens, what are you thinking of?’ exclaimed Aurelia sharply. ‘We should be so crowded!’

‘Oh no, Marianne cannot go. I need her to sort my silks,’ interrupted Lady Dudley eagerly.

Marianne had half risen, as indeed she would have enjoyed a ride in an open carriage on this crisp, bright day. But in the face of such decided opposition she sat down again.

Sir Richard, who appeared at times to be willfully blind to the conduct of his wife and daughter, now spoke with some displeasure. ‘Your silks are not a matter of urgency I think, Lady Dudley, and you, Miss, will scarcely find yourself incommoded by your sister’s joining you. The jaunt will do her good, she looks pale.  Run and put on your bonnet, my dear.’

While Marianne went composedly to do as she was bid, Sir Richard maintained a disapproving silence which Aurelia did not dare to break. She was very much in awe of her father and usually took care not to tease or scold her sister while he was present. Edward, meanwhile, was enduring a comprehensive lamentation from Lady Dudley upon the state of her health, the inclemency of the weather and the lack of eligible society in the neighbourhood.

‘Here she is!’ Edward exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa, relieved to escape further grumblings from his stepmother. ‘That’s a very pretty bonnet, love.’

She smiled charmingly, revealing unexpected dimples. The compliment was all the more acceptable as she had, with her own hands, fashioned the high crowned bonnet of ruched, plum-coloured velvet, trimmed with dusky-pink, silk anemones. Miss Aurelia gave an exclamation of impatience. ‘Well, are we going or are we to stand here admiring Marianne’s hat?’

‘We are going, Miss,’ responded Edward, casting her look of dislike as they left the morning room. ‘And I’ll tell you what, if you do not sweeten that temper of yours, you’ll never get a husband.’

‘Well I am sure Marianne’s temper is meek enough and she has not found one.’

Edward frowned. ‘You know very well she would have been married years ago but that poor Deveril was killed.’

Marianne, who had been listening to this passage with composure intervened, ‘That will do, Ned. I know Aurelia does not mean to be unkind.’

Her sister had the grace to look a little ashamed and climbed with unusual meekness into the carriage.