Mrs. Rutley smiled. “Now that you’re here, I would like you to tell me a story. About a young girl who fell in love. Will you do that for me?”
There was nothing Jenny would not do for her former headmistress. Sharing her story would be the most enjoyable. And she knew just where to begin.
“It was a month after Diana had left the school. I was reading one of my romance novels and imagining what having a gentleman call on me would be like. Then one did. A man known as the Earl of Deception.”
Chapter One
Chatsworth, February 1806
Miss Jenny Clifton gave her long chestnut braid a firm tug and held her breath. Would the beautiful country girl reveal the love she had for the handsome, young stable hand? She should. After all, the couple was already engaged. Why would anyone wish to wait so long to express her feelings for the man she loved?
Sunlight flickered across the pages of the romance novel open in her hand. Turning the page, Jenny traced a finger over the final passage, tears stinging her eyes.
“Once they had confessed their love for one another,” she whispered, “they lived very lovingly, and happily ever after.”
Jenny had purchased the romance novel from Mistrel’s Bookshop the previous week and had devoured it in a matter of days. It was a simple story about two people falling in love, and the perils they were forced to face—of which there were many—before their eventual marriage.
Marriage. Jenny wanted nothing more than to enjoy the blissful throes of matrimony. To have and raise children, to run a household, to love her husband, and have her husband return her admiration.
Oh, it was not that she yet had a fiancé, or even a suitor hoping to ask for her hand. Truth be told, she had not had a male caller since… never.
Yet she was not worried. Well, not too much. After witnessing her closest friends—and former students of Mrs. Rutley’s School for Young Women—find love, she was certain her turn was coming.
Jenny was eighteen, educated, and had put her girlish ways behind her. Much to the relief of her headmistress, she was sure. Perhaps she would be the next of the Sisterhood of Secrets to take her first step down that path of passion and devotion. And like her fellow Sisters at the school, she would do so before leaving in just a few months. Somewhere there was a man out there for her, she had no doubt.
And she could not wait!
Sighing, Jenny leaned against the wall behind the window seat and closed her eyes. Who would become her husband? How would he propose marriage? And what would their lives be like once they spoke their vows?
Would they live on a country estate? Or was he the type of man who preferred the bustle of a metropolis such as London? And what about gatherings? Would they host numerous parties with hundreds of guests? Perhaps they would even be invited to dine at St. James Palace!
Well, none of that mattered. As long as he was handsome, witty, and respectful of her, Jenny would be happy. Oh, and he would have to love her. What woman in these modern times would settle for anything less?
Her older sister Maria had once called Jenny a dreamer. A woman who put too much thought into the idea of marriage.
“These things will sort themselves out in time,” Maria had said. “Women have little say in such matters, really. You never know. Perhaps you’re meant to be a spinster.”
But her sister was wrong. Jenny was sure beyond any belief that her time was coming. And soon. The idea of love, children, and everything else associated with a husband occupied her mind at all times. In fact, she had become so obsessed with the notion of marriage that Ruth often teased she would likely accept the proposal of the first gentleman who offered.
Regardless, Jenny did not doubt it would happen, even before she completed her studies.
But there was a small problem.
Chatsworth and its surrounding area were not much different from Peatsmith, the village where she was raised. What if her schoolmates had already taken all the best eligible gentlemen? What did that mean for the rest of the young ladies like her, who were waiting for their dashing beaus?
Then again, there was the earl.
Her heart stopped for a moment before resuming its beat. The previous month, Jenny had gone into the village with her friend and schoolmate, Diana Kendricks, who was soon to be the Marchioness of Barrington. Her future husband was a good man, though given the moniker Marquess of Magic. While in Chatsworth, she had vowed to put her silly ways behind her. She was a proper young lady now, and it was about time she began acting as such.
To mark the occasion of her entrance into adulthood, she had thrown a handkerchief over her shoulder.
Yet, her symbolic gesture had not gone as planned, for Nicholas, Earl of Dowding, had returned it to her immediately.
Lord Dowding had been dubbed the Earl of Deception, but how or why depended on which rumor a person wished to believe. Jenny cared not, for during their brief exchange, two important things happened.
The first was what one might categorize as good. She had been awestruck by what a handsome man he was. He possessed a jawline that she could only describe as regal. A wave of dark hair fell over his brow, and he had piercing brown eyes.
But what captured her the most was his imposing height. He was so tall that she had nearly cricked her neck looking up at him. Never had she experienced such heat overtake her body, and all her senses left her immediately.