Winning the Merchant Earl: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 8) Read online

  His Majesty’s Hounds – Book 8

  Sweet and Clean Regency Romance

  Arietta Richmond

  Dreamstone Publishing © 2017

  www.dreamstonepublishing.com

  Copyright © 2017 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this work may be copied without the author’s permission.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-925499-74-2

  This story is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales or actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Some actual historical events of the period may be referenced in passing.

  Books by Arietta Richmond

  His Majesty’s Hounds

  Claiming the Heart of a Duke

  Intriguing the Viscount

  Giving a Heart of Lace

  (a prequel to Winning the Merchant Earl)

  Being Lady Harriet’s Hero

  Enchanting the Duke

  Redeeming the Marquess

  Finding the Duke’s Heir

  Winning the Merchant Earl

  Healing Lord Barton (coming soon)

  Kissing the Duke of Hearts (coming soon)

  Loving the Bitter Baron (coming soon)

  Rescuing the Countess (coming soon)

  Attracting the Spymaster (coming soon)

  Restoring the Earl’s Honour (coming soon)

  The Derbyshire Set

  A Gift of Love (Prequel short story)

  A Devil’s Bargain (Prequel short story - coming soon)

  The Earl’s Unexpected Bride

  The Captain’s Compromised Heiress

  The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair

  The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 1

  (contains the first three books in a single volume.)

  The Count’s Impetuous Seduction

  The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption

  The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress

  The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 2

  (contains the second three books in a single volume.)

  A Remembered Face (Bonus short story – coming soon)

  The Marchioness’ Second Chance (coming soon)

  A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion (coming soon)

  Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish

  The Duke’s Improper Love (coming soon)

  Other Books

  The Scottish Governess (coming soon)

  The Earl’s Reluctant Fiancée (coming soon)

  The Crew of the Seadragon’s Soul Series,

  (coming soon - a set of 10 linked novels)

  For everyone who had the grace to be patient while this book, and every other book that I have written, was coming into existence, who provided cups of tea, and food, when the writing would not let me go, and endured countless times being asked for opinions.

  For the readers who inspire me to continue writing, by buying my books! Especially for those of you who have taken the time to email me, or to leave reviews, and tell me what you love about these books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening, I promise to write more about your favourite characters.

  For my growing team of beta readers and advance reviewers – it’s thanks to you that others can enjoy these books in the best presentation possible!

  And for all the writers of Regency Historical Romance, whose books I read, who inspired me to write in this fascinating period.

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Epilogue

  About The Author

  Here is your Preview of Healing Lord Barton

  Chapter One

  Books in the His Majesty's Hounds Series

  Books in the Derbyshire Set Series

  Regency Collections with Other Authors

  The morning sun was bright, reflecting off the snow that covered the roofs opposite, and casting a beam of glare through the partly open curtains of his room. A beam of bright light which happened to be perfectly placed to fall across Raphael’s face.

  He shook himself out of slumber, squinting at the intensity of the light. He had slept late, knowing that, on this morning, he need not rush. He had given all of his business staff the day off, as a surprise bonus, in celebration of his newest business success. It was Saint Valentine’s Day, and he hoped that each of them was spending the day with someone who was special to them.

  He glanced at his side table, and, at the sight of the heart of antique lace that lay there, the events of the previous night came back to him, with a dream-like quality about them. It seemed improbable that they were real, yet he knew that they had happened. He had kissed her.

  His body heated at the thought, his mind reliving the moments when her body had been pressed to his, as she returned his kiss.

  He had dreamed of such a moment for months. Last night it had been real. When the kiss had ended, they had drawn apart, both looking dazed by the intensity of the sensations it had raised in them. Then she had brought her fingers to her lips, touching them as if in wonder, smiled and spoken softly.

  “I must go back to the parlour, before they wonder if I have become lost.”

  Then she had simply turned, and left the room. He had not felt abandoned, but he had felt the loss of her presence acutely. She was right – at that particular time, she needed to return to join his mother, and hers, as well as his sister, in the parlour. A short while after, as his younger brother had already retired for the evening, Raphael re-joined the ladies. The kiss that had happened was a private thing between them. A thing to be savoured. What might happen next, he had not known last night, nor did he this morning.

  They had finished their delightful evening soon after. Those last minutes had been difficult, for Raphael, and for Sera. Their eyes had kept finding each other, and it had been challenging to simply continue with polite conversation – but they had managed. Once Sera and her mother had departed for their home, Raphael had rapidly taken himself to bed, avoiding his mother’s obvious desire to talk – there would be time for that later.

  Probably today, he thought, with a wry smile, as he rang for his valet, and prepared to face the day.

  ~~~~~

  There was a tap on the door, and Polly entered quietly, immediately seeing to the fire, so that the room would be warm when Sera ventured out from under the bedclothes.

  “I’ll just go and bring you some hot water to wash with, my Lady, I won’t be long.”

  ‘My Lady’ – Sera still found it odd to have a maid again, to be addressed that way again. For over a year, she had been mostly ‘Miss Sera’ to their neighbours in this merchant class district. Now, with their finances and dignity restored, to be addressed in a manner which actually befit her status, as Lady Serafine Parkington, seemed strange to her. But she was very glad of it. These past months had given her a new chan
ce at life, had restored her mother’s health, and dignity. That she had achieved that by the unladylike pursuit of a business venture, in partnership with a gentleman of the merchant class, worried her not in the least.

  At the thought of that business partner, Mr Raphael Morton, she found herself blushing, her whole body warmed by the memory of the previous evening. She had been beyond forward. She had risked everything on the hope that she had not imagined the warmth in his manner, on those few times when he had not tried to hide it.

  She had not imagined it. His response had been more than she had hoped for. He had accepted her gift, in a manner that left no uncertainty about how much he valued it. And then he had kissed her. She had dreamt of his kisses for months.

  Last night’s kiss had been no dream, although, as she remembered it now, the whole evening seemed dream-like. She had no idea how they would go forward now, but the idea of finding out was exciting. That society might disapprove of her choice of a man seemed irrelevant to her. They already disapproved of her family, thanks to the scandal brought about by her brother’s gambling, and subsequent suicide, over a year ago – what was a little more scandal compared to that?

  Polly returned with a large basin of steaming water, and Sera slid from under the covers into the now warmed room, and set about preparing herself for the day.

  ~~~~~

  Mrs Sophia Morton was enjoying a late breakfast with her two younger children. Gabriel was, like most young men on the cusp of becoming an adult, rather self-absorbed, and usually had little to say in response to his sister’s conversation. Isabella was, by contrast, very focused on the world around her, and especially on other people. Raphael, her oldest child, was now 25, and very much a man to respect. Sophia could only hope that, as Gabriel aged, he developed half the balanced approach to life that Raphael had – although she could not wish upon Gabriel the circumstances that had caused Raphael to mature as he had. War was not something to ever wish for.

  Raphael had, so far, shown little interest in other people, beyond business, his close companions from his time at war, and his family. But perhaps that was changing. Sophia smiled to herself, remembering the pleasant dinner of the night before.

  She was certain that Raphael was beginning to regard Lady Serafine as rather more than a business partner. She certainly hoped so. The girl was delightful – intelligent, beautiful and showed not a sign of the aristocratic pride and arrogance that so tarnished the character of many of the members of the ton. And she had survived in the face of the scandal that had hurt her family, with a courage that deserved respect.

  “Mother, I have decided that I wish to attend more dinner parties. Last night was more fun than I expected. And… if we attend dinner parties elsewhere, perhaps there will be eligible gentlemen there…”

  “Bella, just whose dinner parties are you thinking of? For to attend them, you will have to be invited to them, which will require us to know the hosts…”

  Sophia repressed the urge to laugh – her daughter was rather impetuous at times, but her bright, outgoing personality was, mostly, charming.

  “Oh. Do we know anyone who might hold a suitable party?”

  “I will consider it for you – I am sure that we know a few people. But… eligible gentlemen? I thought that you were rather taken with young Arbuthnot?”

  “I was… but I am not so sure that I like him anymore. He is not always as attentive as I would like. He doesn’t look at me the right way. I want him to look at me the way that Raphael looks at Lady Serafine, when he thinks that no-one will notice.”

  “Oh, and how, exactly, is that?”

  Isabella proceeded to look at her mother, producing a facial expression that was a hilarious interpretation of a lovesick puppy. Sophia burst into laughter, and, after a few seconds, Isabella joined her. Gabriel attempted a look of supercilious boredom, but the twitch of his lips gave his true response away.

  “And just what is the cause of this hilarity?”

  Raphael went to the sideboard and loaded his plate with food, whilst waiting for the rest of his family to achieve something approximating decorum.

  “I believe that could be said to be you, if a little indirectly.”

  Gabriel managed not to join in the laughter when Raphael spun around to the table with a shocked look on his face, in response to Gabriel’s words.

  “Me?”

  “You.”

  Bella had gone bright red in the face, and was looking remarkably guilty.

  “I gather that we are laughing about something that Bella said about me? Please, do tell.” Raphael sat at the table, placing his food before him, and waited, watching his sister.

  “I… I… nothing.”

  Bella leapt up and fled the room. Sophia burst into laughter again. Raphael decided to ignore them all, glad that they were happy and laughing, even if he seemed to be the target of their humour. He proceeded to appreciate his food fully, wondering if there would be any sensible conversation at all.

  Eventually, Sophia stopped laughing, took a sip from her tea, and looked at Raphael.

  “I am sorry, but that was just so funny. Bella just graced us with her visual interpretation of the way that she believes you look at Lady Serafine. It was, perhaps, rather exaggerated.”

  Raphael looked up from his food, startled.

  “The way I look at Lady Serafine?”

  “Yes. I gather that Bella believes you utterly besotted. Is she right?”

  “I… er… I am not sure that ‘besotted’ is the right word. I most certainly hold her in a great deal of affection.”

  Sophia simply nodded – her son would tell her his thoughts when he was ready. For now, what he had said was a rather large admission, coming from him.

  ~~~~~

  Sera found herself unsure of what to do with the day. It was months since she had been able to spend a day at leisure. Once, she would have had friends to visit – but those friends had proven to be fair weather friends – not true friends at all. Now, the circle of those she cared about was vanishingly small. She decided to see if her mother would like to visit the shops, if she needed anything.

  The last few months, Sera had barely been at home, as she had worked with Mr Morton, to make their business venture a success. Which it was.

  Now they had funds to be warm, funds to be certain of their next meal, funds for new clothes, and for staff, even funds for a little frivolous shopping, should her mother desire it. And a carriage and driver to take them.

  When Lady Galwood agreed that a visit to the modistes would be a good way to spend the day, Sera sent a message to Alf, asking that he bring the carriage to collect them at one of the clock. It was wonderful to be able to do so. She valued every part of her life now, in a way that she would never have done, before.

  As she sat waiting for the carriage to arrive, Sera found herself daydreaming – thinking of Raphael, and that kiss. What would they say to each other when next they met? How would they go on now? How does one be a business partner to a man, when one wishes to be something rather more to him? It seemed that she would find out – for she certainly was not going to give up their business, or a chance at something ‘more’ with Raphael!

  She settled to considering other occasions for which favours might be made, now that Saint Valentine’s Day was gone for this year. Surely she could imagine any number of circumstances in which a wealthy gentleman might wish to give the Lady of his choice a token of his love?

  She did not get very far with those imaginings – her mind stubbornly turned to Raphael instead. In the end, the shopping was a pleasant distraction, but, in her heart of hearts, her greatest desire was the moment, on the following morning, when she would be in Raphael’s presence again. There was just one niggling doubt – what if he felt differently today, in the cold light of day?

  The paper crackled as Porter Arbuthnot crushed its edges in his hands. He forced himself to release it, and smoothed it flat again. He was reading the Merchants’ Magazi
ne, the premiere paper for all the trade news. And it had a large article discussing the innovative Saint Valentine’s Day favours from Parkmorton Gifts, which had taken the ton by storm. Another damn success for the Mortons. He ground his teeth together in frustration.

  Porter had spent most of his nineteen years as the golden boy of the most successful merchants in London. Until old man Morton had turned their business around, and amassed vast wealth in a few short years, surpassing the Arbuthnots dramatically. Then, to make matters worse, Morton’s handsome son Raphael had returned a war hero, inherited the lot, and even had friends amongst the ton.

  Porter felt the injustice of it all keenly.

  And now this. Another success.

  There had to be a way that he could best them, even if his first try had failed. If he saw Benny again, he’d make his displeasure known.

  His father was simply too accepting of the situation.

  Porter could not see it with such equanimity. Perhaps his best approach was to keep stringing the daughter along. Isabella was pretty enough, and certainly had money behind her, but she was far too innocent and frivolous for his taste.

  He preferred his women rather less intelligent, and rather more knowing. He didn’t value independence as much as he valued a wish to be obedient to his every whim. Pity that the women he most enjoyed were really not suitable for a wife.

  He went back to reading the article, desperate to glean whatever he could about their future business plans. It was singularly unhelpful. Isabella was the only possible path to inside information – she’d likely prattle it all to him with a bit of encouragement. The Season would be upon London soon, and, no doubt, she’d envy all those high-born misses with their Balls and frivolities.

  Another article caught his attention, about the purveyors of hothouse flowers and how they made certain that a huge range of flowers were available to decorate all of those ballrooms, and for hopeful suitors to send to young women.

  It gave him an idea. He would send Isabella extravagant flowers, just like those society girls expected – that would have her falling all over him, even if he hadn’t bothered to call on her for weeks.