Prologue
Sunlight shone through the windows in the library onto the settee where a young woman sat reading. She smiled from time to time, enjoying the peaceful afternoon, and being surrounded by her father's many books which he had loved as much as she did now. She eagerly turned the page of Northanger Abbey. It had been written by Miss Jane Austen, one of her favourite authors. Making her pause to wonder what it would be like to have an adventure. Despite this probably not being the most suitable thing for a young lady to do in early June, 1818 but which didn't deter her in the least.
Sophia Barlow had a mind of her own, and privately considered herself to be a bluestocking. It wasn't long before her thoughts returned eagerly to the Abbey, and what would happen next to Catherine, the heroine in the story. Nevertheless however independent she might like to think she was, Sophia had been under her eldest brother's guardianship for the last four years. After their father's sudden death because of a heart attack. This had proved to be a highly unsatisfactory arrangement. Mostly because Lucas had been trying his best to marry her off to a succession of gentlemen during the last twelve months. Despite Sophia being of the opinion that he would eventually lose interest in this, he still hadn't given up.
She sighed to herself. Any one of the gentlemen he had insisted she should consider could easily have qualified as the worst bachelor in the current London season! However, trying to remain optimistic about the future, she continued to hope that Lucas would change his mind. Not realising that it had become increasingly clear to everyone else that he didn't have any intention of doing so, until she had married a gentleman of his choice. Justifying his actions by taking a high moral stance. Often reminding her that it was his duty to look after her well being, now that Papa was no longer with them, and he really did only have her best interests at heart.
Sophia took a very different view of the matter, and couldn't wait until she had reached her twenty-first birthday. When she believed, without any knowledge of the wider world or legalities of her situation, that she would be able to do as she pleased in matters of the heart. Consequently in the meantime she had little regard for Lucas or his opinions, but still tried her best to keep out of his way as much as possible. Remaining determined to marry for love, if she was fortunate enough to find the right gentleman, and nothing Lucas did or said was going to persuade her to the contrary.
Sophia was dismayed when the door of the library was thrown open, and her brother walked in with that horrible smile he used when he was up to something, which would usually be to someone else's disadvantage. Lucas Barlow had no hesitation whatsoever in doing as he pleased. If others didn't like the man he was, or what he did, it was of little concern to him. In his far from humble opinion he had been badly treated by life when he failed to inherit a title on his father's death, and it didn't worry him in the least that he was disliked by the majority of people he came across. If not feared. He also had no hesitation about treating his family in the same way. He enjoyed the ruthless side of his nature a little too much. Whilst being egotistical, and spiteful, came easily to him.
In reality, and irrespective of what Sophia might believe, he was very angry that she had dared to thwart his wishes for so long. He still couldn't understand why she believed she had the right to do so. As the eldest son it was only right and proper that he was head of the family now, with their father's blessing. He also firmly believed that if he couldn't have a title then this shouldn't stop him from becoming very rich, however he had to go about it, and he certainly wasn't prepared to allow his sister to stand in his way.
Lucas glanced around his father's library where Sophia usually spent every available minute of her time. Instead of devoting herself to doing needlework in the parlour, as she ought to. He was fully aware that her infernal love of books was at the heart of her disobedience. Also scribbling those words she called poetry. She had a book open on her lap now! She had clearly beenreading it, and even if she did think of herself as one of those ridiculous bluestockings, it was completely unacceptable.
From what Lucas had seen of the debutantes coming out this year, those who were acquiescent and didn't appear to consider it proper to think for themselves, fared much better. He suspected too that the money he had spent in sending her to a finishing establishment, once the mourning period for Papa had passed, had been a waste of time and money. He had hoped that receiving this tuition would result in her changing her ways, to become a much better proposition for a suitor. Someone of his choosing who would help him further his business interests, and quest to become a much richer man than their father had been. Whilst if anything, Sophia had come back more feisty and difficult than before she left.
Lucas stamped his foot in temper. Confound the girl! It was her duty to obey him, and he couldn't wait to pass the responsibility of guiding her onto her husband. It would be an added benefit when he secured a marriage proposal for her. He only had one sister, so one chance at getting the most he could out of matchmaking for her. He had been scouring the London clubs since the start of the season looking for the wealthiest and most desperate men he could find, who would easily succumb to his way of thinking. That in exchange for getting a beautiful young wife immediately, without having to endure the season and its host of ruthless mamas, Lucas would receive an agreed sum of money. Followed by an introduction to his newly found brother-in-law's lucrative circle of business connections.
However due to Sophia’s obvious lack of interest in any of the suitors he had selected so far, and wilful behaviour when they met, she had forced him to lower his sights. As well as completely ignoring any of the threats he had made, to get her to comply. Essentially it had now become a case of her marrying anyone who had a title, and more importantly, a large enough fortune who might possibly take her on. Lucas snorted in disgust.
Despite her natural beauty, his sister had made certain that she didn't appear suitably attractive to any of the gentlemen hehad introduced her to. Despite the small fortune he had spent on her dressmaker's bills, shoes, and hats.
Hadn't he also made sure that she was presented to Queen Charlotte at the start of the season? Despite her only being a merchant's daughter, and the family deemed by some not to be sufficiently wealthy to be entitled to this privilege. Lucas smirked when he recalled how he had got around that. All it had taken was a word from him in the right ear, and his sister was added to the list of those who had been recommended for presentation to the Queen. Although Sophia had dared to ask him afterwards how he had managed it, and no doubt thought it was somehow connected to his business arrangements, he didn't explain. Why should he? It was enough that he had been able to arrange it, and she ought to be grateful.
Suffice to say that he did have something else in mind for her now. Judging by the look of alarm on her face, she was also aware of it. Not a man to waste words he dispensed with the niceties of asking how she was and said, as persuasively as he could, "Sophia, my dear, a very important business acquaintance of mine will be joining us for dinner in two days' time. I would like you to make a good impression on him. I am giving you sufficient notice of it, so that you will have time to choose the most charming dress in your wardrobe, and do something with your unruly hair." He remarked staring at her light brown tresses, which he still didn't believe she had done her best to style.
Moreover, continually using this lack of attention to her hair as a means of silently objecting to his dismissal of her ladies' maid, shortly after their father's death. Lucas had congratulated himself at the time, believing that the woman was an unnecessary expense. Despite his sister's insistence that she needed a maid to help her dress properly. Thankfully she seemed to have lost heart in making this objection, and even though he was reluctant to admit it, she did look reasonably well groomed now most of the time. Although it had taken her a while to reach this point.
Meanwhile Sophia's hazel eyes flashed defiantly, as she returned her brother's stare, knowing full well that the gentlemanto which he was referring would be another suitor. Lucas could also guess by this time what would be going through her mind, and he grabbed the book from her lap, threw it onto the carpet and said, "You will stop wasting your time reading, and do as I ask on this occasion. Showing me you understand the necessity of making a good match before your next birthday." Having dispensed with any subterfuge, he paused to give his next words greater emphasis.
"I expect you to secure a marriage proposal, Sophia. Do you understand me? You will shortly be twenty-one years of age. Far too old then to be considered as a prospect by the majority of decent men, who might be prepared to ignore your bad character and personality. Unless you wish to find yourself out on the street, my dear sister, you will not defy me again."
Lucas glared menacing at her, before he turned around and strode out of the library. Slamming the door behind him as hard as he could, so that the glass ornaments in the nearby cabinet shook. Sophia's face turned pale. Lucas really did mean it this time. She had never seen him so angry before. Maybe her life wasn't an adventure after all. More importantly, she had been wrong in believing that she would be able to marry for love, once she was old enough to choose a husband for herself.
Sophia clenched her hands in despair. If only mama was still here, she couldn't help thinking. Why did she have to die? She would have given her guidance now, and dear papa would never have treated her like this. His marriage to mama had been a love match, so of course she wanted the same. Why was Lucas unable to discern that? All of these circumstances, coupled with the unfortunate demise of her parents, appeared exceedingly unjust.
A solitary tear slid down her cheek. For once, Sophia Barlow felt completely helpless, and didn't know what to do for the best.
Chapter 1
Edward Carlisle yawned as he left his carriage, and walked the short distance to the front door of his late father's townhouse in Belgravia, which had been opened for him by the butler. After greeting Jenkins he gave him his hat, and made his way into the drawing room where he knew that his mother would be waiting for him. It was late, almost eight o'clock, and he assumed that for once she wouldn't object if he didn't change for dinner. After a laborious day managing his business affairs, he was quite fatigued and eagerly anticipated a tranquil supper before retiring early to his chamber. Thankful that despite it still being part of the London season, it would be just the two of them this evening. Not a more formal occasion when they would be receiving guests.
Cynthia, the Duchess of Carlfield, was clearly delighted to see her son and she put her embroidery onto the table next to her as soon as he came into the drawing room. Edward kissed her cheek affectionately, before pouring himself a brandy. Seeing how tired he looked, she decided not to reveal the distressing news she had received earlier until later on. When she asked Ned, as she had called him since he was a boy, he admitted that he hadn't had a lot of time during the day to stop and eat. So he was delighted to agree to them having dinner, without delay. He drank the brandy quickly, and held out his arm to escort the Duchess into the dining room, after she had rang the bell to tell Jenkins that they were ready for dinner to be served.
When a hearty soup had been enjoyed by them both, the bowls cleared away and the main course served, Cynthia couldn't wait any longer. "In truth, Ned, I must impart some disheartening tidings," she uttered, struggling to hold back her tears.
The Duke looked up immediately from his plate of roast beef, potatoes, and Yorkshire pudding. Clearly alarmed after his father's death from an unexpected illness nine years ago, and to whom he had been very close, he tended to fear the worst when his mother became upset. Fortunately, this didn't happen very often. Despite Cynthia Carlisle being almost in her seventh decadeand her hair turning grey, he still thought of her as a strong and capable woman. Realising however, especially after how suddenly his father had passed away, that this could change at any time. "I hope you aren't ill, Mama," he said, anxiously.
"No, fret not, Ned. I am quite well, thank you. It is Ruth, my companion, who has caused my distress. She tendered her resignation this morning, and I am at a loss as to how to proceed without her. She was used to my way of doing things, almost like one of the family, and I shall miss her terribly. She was very upset when she had to tell me she would be leaving. Her mother has been taken ill. Naturally she wished to go home as soon as possible to care for her, and her younger siblings."
Edward sighed, inwardly. His mother was understandably very upset. Ruth had been with her for six years, and this couldn’t have come at a worse time. They were due to leave London in the next three days for his country seat in Yorkshire, to spend the remainder of the summer there. He had been looking forward to walking through the grounds of his estate again, and the gardens. However the possibility of him being able to enter into a highly lucrative business deal with an acquaintance of his, Lord Watson, had recently come to light. So that it looked as if he would have to travel to France instead, to discuss the details with him, and meet the other gentlemen with whom his Lordship and him would be trading.
Not wishing to cause his mother any further distress or worry, he stood up immediately, with the intention of going to her. Only after she had assured him with great determination that she was indeed well, and commanded him to be seated forthwith to finish his dinner, did he relent. The matter had only been a momentary shock, nothing more.
Assured of his mother's well-being, Edward resumed his utensils and spoke hastily, "Fret not, Mama. If I must journey to France, I shall ensure your company is not forsaken."
I shall make some enquiries tomorrow morning about finding a new lady’s companion for you, to replace Ruth. If it isn'tpossible to get someone suitable then I shall put off going to Paris for the time being."
