Chapter One
London, 1812
A storm was coming. Eleanor Pinecrest lifted her skirts and continued to chase after her bonnet. As she raised her eyes to the sky, she silently cursed her fate and wished she could abandon the foolish garment. If bonnets would not cost so very much she was certain she would be spared the absurdity of running after it through the park. She despised the frilly things. And gowns for that matter, Eleanor thought. And all the trimmings that went with them. Maybe her bonnet was trying to flee. It should have been replaced years ago.
Stopping for a moment to catch her breath, Eleanor watched as the clouds managed to overtake the sun. There was a notable chill in the air now that usually always occurred right before a major downpour. She should head to the carriage at once. But alas, she could not. Even though, she noted, more than a few locks of her chestnut hair had tumbled out of its pins during the debacle. Hair flying loose, skirts above her ankles, and cheeks flush from her efforts, Eleanor was breaking at least a dozen rules of propriety. If her brother heard of this he would kill her. Now, however, Eleanor needed to remain focused on the task at hand. The heavens were about clearly about to burst.
“Oh Elly, it will begin to rain at any moment. Perhaps you should just leave it.”
Her sister’s voice carried over the wind and Eleanor paused, once again, in her chase. Felicity disliked the rain. Even if only one raindrop fell on her, her sister would stay in bed for a week convinced she had caught a chill.
“You should get to the carriage Felicity. I must catch it. I know it is foolish but it is my favorite bonnet.” It was a blatant lie, but sadly, she was getting far to adept at lying for her own good.
The start of the season was a mere week away and she could not have her sister spend it in bed. It was vital that Felicity make a good match this season. They could not afford for her not too. Glaring at the neatly tied pink ribbons securing Felicity’s bonnet, Eleanor whispered another curse.
“It should not take me much time to collect.”
Then after a moment of thought, she called back to her sister.
“And do not run dear; Marcus will have my head if you turn your ankle.”
Not waiting for her sister to respond, Eleanor turned her attention back to her bonnet. Never had she wanted to abandon a task so much, but Eleanor had never been a quitter and it was too late to give up now. Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ears she once again lifted her skirts and pressed on.
Storm Westbrook, the ninth Duke of Wakefield, looked toward the sky and smiled. There was nothing like an afternoon thunderstorm to raise his spirits, and today he truly needed his spirits raised.
“You should be looking at the lovely ladies strolling around and not at the sky, dear brother.”
Turning to his sister with a scowl, the duke motioned toward the nearly empty park.
“There are not a lot of ladies strolling at the moment, precious.”
Bonnet, his most practical and sensible sibling, scowled right back at him.
“You knew it would rain today, that is why you were so agreeable about coming here.”
Storm knew better than to respond. It was the truth.
“I know you do not want to marry Storm, but we agreed before coming to London that you would find a wife this season, no matter what. The longer you avoid the matter, the less options you will have.”
Storm was saved from agreeing with her by the approach of a chestnut vendor. It was one of his favorite treats and he immediately obtained two bags of them. Grinning like a child, Storm turned back to his eldest sister and motioned to the carriages awaiting them.
“I made you a promise Bonnet and I will keep it. Now, as the rain is about to start, we should probably collect the others and head home. Thinking about finding a bride will be impossible if I have a bunch of sickly siblings to care for.”
“If I did not know how much you cared about your lovely family I would almost believe that getting on of your sibling sickly was your main purpose in coming here.”
Grinning at her, Storm placed a kiss on her cheek.
“Well, I am glad that you do know how much I care about them.”
Shaking her head Bonnet sighed and was already heading off to round up his family. Outings were always an adventure as everyone scattered around and never returned when they were meant too. As she parted, however, his sister called back to him.
“You will always be my favorite. Please never forget that.”
Storm took a deep breath of air and relaxed. The bond he and his sister shared would never be broken, no matter how difficult this season may become. He promised his sister he would marry, and he would never go back on a promise to her, but it was a week before the season truly began and he was going to do as he pleased until then.
Eleanor was thankful that most of the fashionable crowd had already quit the park, for she was certainly a sight, scurrying around after her bonnet. Marcus would not be pleased if she caused even the slightest bit of gossip and hurt Felicity’s chances of making a match. It was, after all, the sole reason they had come to London in the first place. There really was nothing that could be done, though. Abandoning the bonnet was not an option. It was the only blue one she had. Without it, half her wardrobe would be useless.
For one glorious moment, Eleanor thought lady luck had found her because her bonnet now rested tangled in a nearby bit of shrubbery. She would most likely need to replace the ribbons, but at least she would be able to retrieve it. It was an unusually breezy day, even despite the coming rain, Eleanor thought sadly. Normally she would enjoy the cool breeze in the air when strolling through the park, but today it seemed determined to vex her. Slowing her pace, Eleanor approached the bush that held her bonnet captive and sighed with relief as she began to unravel it.
“Got you, you blasted thing!”
Eleanor’s eyes gleamed with victory as she waved her bonnet in the air triumphantly. Glad to have such foolishness over, she turned to leave, but fate seemed to have other plans for her as a large gust of wind snapped a tree branch which violently hit her against her cheek. Startled, she stumbled backward and collided into a boy running past. The force of the impact surprised her and, with a cry of dismay, she realized she lost grip on her bonnet. As the stupid thing blew across the grass Eleanor realized it was finally about to come to its tragic end.
“Please, do not step,” she attempted to yell, but knowing she was far too late, her words trailed away to a mere whisper, “on my bonnet.”
She scurried from the ground to see if there was any hope of saving the stupid hat, but unknowingly, the gentleman was already treading on the poor thing. As she continued to chase the now flattened bonnet, Eleanor noted, very briefly, how fine the gentleman’s boots were. The finest she may have ever seen. And, unable to drag her eyes away, Eleanor wondered, for a moment, if this was a sign of what the season had in store for her. Months of lovely gentleman, with their lovely boots, not noticing anything that they trampled on.
Then, mortified, Eleanor realized that she had not stopped running. How had she forgotten to stop running? One minute she was staring at his boots and the next minute she was slamming right into the gentleman wearing them. And then, she could not manage to think at all. As she crashed into him, the gentleman’s whole body seemed to firm against her, stopping them both from falling. Eleanor had never been this close to a man before. Then his sturdy hands settled against her waist, and for the first time in her life, Eleanor was sure she was going to faint.
All her senses were attuned to him. Her heart was racing, her breathe shallow. In all her life, Eleanor had never been so incapable of thought. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the faint scent of sandalwood, chestnuts and pure male, Eleanor was quite sure she had landed in heaven. That was, until something hit her in the head.
“Ouch.”
Whatever it had been hit her again, this time on the shoulder, and before she could regain her footing, three more objects struck her, one of them on the cheek where the branch had attacked her only moments earlier. Raising her hand to her face, she exclaimed,
“If you dare tell me that I should have tied the ribbons tighter to avoid this, I will hit you with my reticule.”
A deep chuckle sounded through the air and Eleanor clamped her hand to her mouth. She certainly had not meant to say such a thing aloud. Apology at her lips, Eleanor looked up to the gentleman she had crashed into and lost her voice completely. He was absolutely stunning.
Dark locks, a bit longer than deemed fashionable, framed a face that was simply breathtaking. A chiseled jaw, full lips and perfect smile were startling, certainly, but it was his eyes that were his most captivating feature. They were gray. A deep, wonderful shade of gray, with the slightest hint of blue around the edge, if one looked closely. In all her twenty years Eleanor had never seen gray eyes. To make them even more welcoming, they seemed to be laughing at her right along with him. Then his smooth voice sounded and Eleanor found her gaze focused on his lips.
“That would be a most impressive threat if I believed your reticule contained anything that could harm me, which, by the looks of it, it does not.”
Mortified, Eleanor finally realized what he meant and looked down to see her reticule spilled over the ground. Truly the designers of women’s fashion needed a lesson or two about the needs of women. As soon as she arrived home she swore that she was sewing pockets into all her gowns so that she never needed a reticule again. Lord, he must think her a complete idiot, stumbling to collect her things and still unable to speak. She was reaching to retrieve her reading glasses, when his hand came to her arm and gently stopped her. When Eleanor met his gaze, the man held out his handkerchief.
“Here, press this to your cheek. You are hurt.”
Gratefully, she took the cloth to her cheek and realized that she was, indeed, bleeding.
“A tree branch hit me.”
Smiling down at her the gentleman motioned to the ground around them.
“I fear my chestnuts did not help.”
The man seemed to be holding back a laugh, and she had a good mind to inform him that it was not polite to laugh at a lady. As she was the one who caused such a ridiculous scene she held her tongue. Besides, she had no idea who he was. Powerful, was the first thought, and Marcus would never forgive her if she insulted a peer. At his words, she looked toward her feet. Eleanor saw dozens of chestnuts beside them. Now she felt her face grow even redder. Could there be anything more embarrassing? Attacked by chestnuts. This afternoon could not get any worse.
“I am sorry. If you would like, I can replace them,” she whispered softly.
“There is no need, I am sure the birds will enjoy them.”
Eleanor looked to the chestnuts, a bit perplexed.
“I do not believe birds can eat chestnuts.”
“Really?”
Eleanor caught his amused looked.
“It seems a bit big for them to swallow.”
“Well a dog then.”
Eleanor smiled, thinking this would be a very splendid idea.
“Yes, a dog will love them. I used to have a dog. He was very fond of nuts.”
She sounded like a complete ninny. What had possessed her to go on and on about the chestnuts, and birds and her dog? Eleanor was far too intelligent to prattle on like this. Then, when she finally gathered her wits, she looked to the gentleman again.
The man seemed to be studying her and Eleanor was a bit surprised when he reached out and examined her cheek more closely. His fingers felt warm as he cupped her chin and tilted her face toward him. It was very beneficial to have already grown scarlet or else he might sense how affected she was by his touch. Eleanor prayed that she did not look like a complete disaster, although, after the events of the last few minutes, that wish seemed impossible.
“You should get some water on it.”
Their eye met and for one moment Eleanor wondered if the world really had disappeared. From that instant on, she knew, with absolute certainty, that no other set of eyes would ever please her again. Silently praying this encounter could last forever, Eleanor allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of him. Then of course, as if fate was warning her that such beauty was not hers to be appreciated, she was brought back to her senses by the sound of her sister’s voice.
“Oh Elly, are you alright?” Noticing the scene before her, she continued, “Oh dear, your poor bonnet is ruined. Oh, you really should remember to tie the ribbons tighter next time.”
Eleanor cringed. Apparently, the afternoon could get worse. Felicity hurried forward, her blonde ringlets not looking the slightest bit out of place. Even Eleanor, who saw her sister every day, could not help but think the girl looked quite stunning. By the sound of the gentleman’s sharp intake of breath, Eleanor knew that Felicity had gained a suitor. Bending down to gather the rest of her things, she forced a smile. They were here to find Felicity a husband after all, and it would do her sister well to find favor with a man such as this one. He chuckled, no doubt at the ribbon comment.
“I am fine sweetness. Just a small scratch is all.”
Then as if just remember, she looked around.
“Is the boy okay?”
As if on cue the young man stepped forward.
“I am sorry for hitting you miss… It was as if you came out of nowhere.”
Eleanor smiled at him.
“It was entirely my fault.”
The boy grinned.
“Can you please make my brother understand that?”
The gentleman tousled the boy’s hair and the young man groaned.
“Perhaps you can make yourself useful and go replace the chestnuts I purchased for the ride home.”
The gentleman tossed the boy some coins and off he ran. Eleanor smiled. It was nice to find a gentleman who was not apt to scold a child over such a matter.
“We should help you friend gather her things.”
Felicity smiled to her sweetly at the gentleman.
“Oh Elly? She is my sister.”
“Ah, and you are?”
Lowering her lids Felicity blushed.
“Oh, Felicity Pinecrest.”
The man smiled brightly at her.
“That is a very lovely name”
“Oh, thank you. But now you must tell me your name.”
The man grinned wickedly.
“If I do that I will lose the pleasure of having you try to find me.”
Her sister giggled and although it was ungenerous of her, Eleanor wished that, for just one day, she could be the pretty one. And that perhaps, just this one man might be immune to her sister’s beauty. Was it so wrong to wish that there was one person in the world that would not think Felicity was perfect? Ashamed of her thoughts, Eleanor quickly pushed them away. Shoving the rest of her things into her reticule, she rose.
“We should go, the rain is not far off and I confess my cheek is starting to hurt. I do apologize, my lord, for delaying you.”
He finally looked back to her and bowed slightly. Lord, but he was truly handsome. Eleanor had seen his expression when Felicity arrived and if there was one thing she had learned over the years, it was that she did not want a man who desired her sister.
“And I apologize for ruining your bonnet.”
Looking to the poor thing that he had retrieved from the ground, Eleanor sighed and tried not to think about how she was going to find the funds to replace it. She would simply have to make do with the other two she had. While she was examining the garment, the gentleman looked to the sky and then turned his heavenly gaze toward Felicity.
“I trust you to see that she tends to her cheek.”
Felicity blushed and smiled so softly that even Eleanor could feel the effects of it. How did a man resist her sister when Felicity chose to bestow a smile on him? Then, her sister’s musical voice sounded and Eleanor went from feeling bad, to worse.
“Oh, Elly knows how to take care of herself. She is rather like a mother hen in that aspect.”
Feeling like an old maid, Eleanor took her sister by the arm and offered the man his handkerchief.
“We really should be going, with the rain so close.”
With a smile, he closed her hand around his handkerchief and motioned to her cheek.
“Keep it for your journey home.”
Spotting the carriage, Eleanor gave him a warm thank you before bustling Felicity away. Her sister even dared to look back at the man as she entered the vehicle and Eleanor clamored in behind her, feeling dowdier by the minute. All she wanted to do was go home, curl up with her favorite book and listen to the rain.
Storm watched the two Pinecrest sisters walk away with an uneasy feeling. Something was amiss with them. It was hard to believe they were related at all. He truly did not understand why the one woman even chased her blasted bonnet across the park. The silly thing was just as wore out as the rest of her. Although, to be fair, the moment that she collided him, Storm could not deny how lovely she had felt for the brief moment she was in his arms. Her body was mature, womanly and, despite the fact that her dress was the wrong color and, he suspected, size, she was not unpleasant to look at. She had longer than usual eyelashes for a woman, and although her eyes were not the brilliant shade of blue that was all the rage this season, they seemed to be open and honest without that hint of mystery that most woman feigned. And she clearly was unable to turn into a fluttery wisp of a woman that most ladies seemed to be around him.
Had her sister not approached, he thought that he might have even lingered a bit longer to see what topic they could possibly conquered after chestnuts and the snacking habits of birds and dogs. But, her sister had joined them and Storm knew that she was precisely the kind of woman he could find himself married too. She was completely opposite her sister in every way. Fair, where her sister was dark. Well put together, utterly beautiful and, out of the two, clearly more capable of knowing when a woman should or should not chase her bonnet through a public park. If one was going to be forced into marriage, miss Felicity Pinecrest would be a very lovely choice.
“Come on Storm, the rain has already started.”
Seeing that his younger brother had managed to repurchase two more bags of chestnut, Storm returned to his family, content to once again be among them. Retrieving the treats from Chance so the boy could scurry into the carriage, Storm tossed the nuts to Bonnet and smiled.
“Is the other coach ready?”
Bonnet rolled her eyes and looked past him to where the rain was gaining momentum. It was clear that she wished to be on her way.
“Yes, everyone is accounted for. We are just waiting for you.”
“Let me deliver this to them. I will be back momentarily.”
His sister groaned, a worried look in her eyes, but had long ago given up on lecturing him about walking in the rain. By the time he returned, the heavens had opened and he was joyfully drenched. Crossing her arms, an action that seemed ingrained in her, Bonnet raised a brow.
“I do not want to hear one word about how you were wet for the whole ride home. And take your jacket off. If you catch a chill, I will not feel sorry for you in the slightest.”
Tossing a chestnut at her, Storm looked at Bonnet with a smug expression.
“I have never caught a chill before, I hardly think I shall catch one now.”
Picking the chestnut out of her lap she pointed it at him. With a quiet intensity, Bonnet spoke in a calm and steady voice.
“There is no need for you to waste perfectly good chestnuts. Not to mention the fact that Chance thinks that it is now acceptable to go throwing chestnuts around.” With a glare of her eyes she and a firm wave of her hand, she finished her lecture with two words.
“At people.”
Storm realized that Bonnets nerves must already be shaken by the storm beating down on them, for she usually scolded him in private, but her short reprimand had succeeded in putting him in his place. As the head of the family it was his duty to act as a model of good manners so that his younger siblings would thrive once they reached an age where society would be watching their every move. There were plenty of people who had believed he was far too young to be responsible for his eight brothers and sisters, and even a simple jest such as throwing a chestnut at his sister would lead more to believe the same. Chance, the clumsiest of the family, would have enough problems without his adding to the list of unforgivable behaviors.
“Chance, it is not acceptable to throw chestnuts around.”
With another boyish grin the boy nodded.
“Yes, my lord.”
Holding back a groan, Storm refused to meet Bonnets gaze. Clearly his youngest brother now believed there was no harm in the gesture. Storm could only hope that if Chance had the urge to throw chestnuts, he would do so only at his siblings and in private. Luckily, he was saved from another lecture by a soft voice.
“The chestnuts were a wonderful idea, Storm. Thank you.”
Turning to Peaches, Bonnet sighed, her lips trembling to hold back a smile.
“Yes, they were, dear.”
“And if you do catch a chill, I will see to it that Cook makes soup for you until you feel better.”
Out of all his sisters, Peaches was sure to be the one to receive the most marriage proposals. Not that he had any desire to think about such facts. As this was to be her first season, he would be spending enough time pondering her marriage prospects. Not to mention his own. Right now, however, he refused to think about such matters. Reaching across to her he brought her hand to his lips.
“Thank you, sweet sister.”
Exchanging a gentle look with Bonnet; Storm leaned back into his seat. He may not have ended up where he thought his fate would lead him, but he could not have asked for a better family. It was a gift to be a part of such a loving bunch. A gift he would cherish every day. They were his life. He would do anything for them. Even, he thought a bit wistfully, stop his habit of throwing chestnuts at them and, more importantly, finding himself a young biddable wife.