Flame and Ember (Regency Love Book 1) Page 3

  “You’re underestimating how pretty some of those empty-headed young things are.”

  “A pretty young thing,” grumbled Simon. “My mother was a pretty young thing and that didn’t fare well for my parents.”

  A marriage of speculation and rumor where everyone whispered about the ‘what ifs’ and ‘did you knows’ was not for Simon Kingsley. His mother’s infidelities were bandied about in countless social circles. Simon had never voiced his doubts aloud, but he often wondered whether his youngest sister, Priscilla, was a full-blooded sibling. And Simon had heard more than a few rumors about his father’s indiscretions among the maids and village girls. His father may have been more discrete, but he wasn’t any more faithful to his marriage vows.

  Simon sighed. “I want a lady who will help me run my estate and cares about seeing it succeed. Someone who could love it as I do.”

  Finch snorted. “And you think the former Miss Susannah Weston would have fit the bill?”

  In reality, that had not crossed Simon’s mind. Susannah’s suitability as mistress of Avebury Park was never a question. She was a gently bred lady with all the proper knowledge and ability to run such a household. But whether she would have found joy in it was a mystery. Perhaps she was too tied to the glitter of London society to find much happiness in the country.

  But that would not have mattered. Their love would have made up for any differences in opinion and character. Having her as his wife would have been enough to ensure their lasting marital bliss.

  Finch’s question hung in the air, but Simon had no interest in answering it, and his friend eventually moved on.

  “So, you’re not looking for love or beauty. It sounds like you are looking for a workhorse.” Finch chuckled. “Fool plan, indeed.”

  Put in such harsh light, it did sound foolish.

  “I tried to find the perfect wife and failed miserably,” said Simon. “Now is the time to settle for someone who I merely enjoy. Someone who will help me with the endless list of things needing to be done on my estate. Someone who will aid me without adding to my burdens.”

  “If that’s all you desire, you are looking in the wrong direction,” said Finch, nodding at the fresh-faced debutantes flirting with the young bucks. Motioning to the edges of the ballroom, Finch drew Simon’s attention to the spinsters, wallflowers, and the other leftover scraps of society. “Cast your eyes that way.”

  Simon glanced back at his friend, who met his gaze with a shrug.

  “Don’t discount it,” said Finch. “Take Miss Mina Ashbrook.” He nodded to a lady who sat apart from the others, her slipper tapping in time with the music.

  The lady in question was younger than the middle-aged spinsters around her, but she had not been a debutante in several Seasons. She was rather nondescript. Hair that was neither dark nor light. Eyes that were a muddy shade of brown. If Simon had to be honest with himself, her most distinguishable characteristic was her size. People likely called her plump out of kindness, but she was more than a few steps beyond that. Not large enough to make their hostess worry about the structural integrity of the chair, but hefty enough that it was bound to be the first and only thing people notice about her.

  However, the manner in which the lady presented herself made Simon the slightest bit curious. While other spinsters in the company clung to their maidenly pastels as if desperate to stave off the encroaching years or draped themselves in severe black as though mourning the loss of their opportunities, this lady’s gown was a brilliant purple. The shade likely had some fancy name Simon did not care to learn, but there was a daringness to the color that seemed at odds with her lonely spot at the fringes of the gathering.

  “Ashbrook?” asked Simon.

  “Nicholas Ashbrook’s elder sister,” said Finch. “She comes from a good family and has spent most of her life running her family’s estate after her mother passed several years ago. So, she has ample qualifications to step in as mistress of Avebury Park. Not to mention she is too mousy to cause you much bother, too unattractive to have a wandering eye, and so firmly on the shelf that she’d likely accept any offer she got.”

  Simon watched as Miss Ashbrook’s cheeks grew redder with each word, her eyes casting down to her hands now gripped tightly in her lap. Simon had not thought her close enough to overhear them, but he got the most uncomfortable feeling she had.

  ***

  It amazed Mina how three people could all attend the same event, yet have such vastly differing experiences during it. The carriage rocked along the cobblestones while Louisa-Margaretta detailed to Nicholas just how much of a triumph the evening had been.

  Truthfully, Mina did not hear a word her sister-in-law spoke. Mr. Finch’s words plagued her mind. Mousy and unattractive. Both were apt descriptors and ones she had used herself many times, but hearing him say them was a far cry from her own self-deprecating thoughts. A mousy, unattractive woman for a man who wanted nothing more than a workhorse for a wife.

  Truth be told, Mr. Kingsley’s words leading up to that awful moment had given Mina an uncomfortable flutter of anticipation, hoping that he might notice her. There was something about him that had long attracted her attention, though he seemed oblivious to her. Though not the type of handsome that drew the ladies in, Mina had found herself dreaming of him on more than one occasion over the years. Dark haired and broad shouldered, Mina’s eyes often sought out his, even if he had never met hers directly.

  Her secret feelings had never bordered on serious, but it was hard not to admire such a good man. A gentleman to his core. More than that, he was industrious, kind to his tenants, and fair in his business dealings. He had even rescued Nicholas on one occasion during a scuffle at school. Jaded opinions about love aside, the man had much to recommend himself, and a part of Mina had wanted to catch his eye.

  And then his friend spoke, and all illusions shattered, shredding Mina’s heart.

  Nicholas nodded off, and Louisa-Margaretta whacked his arm with her fan. The girl could be brutal with that article. He grumbled, and she poked him again, but he snatched it from her hand, yanking her to him. Mina averted her eyes when his arms came around his wife and Louisa-Margaretta giggled. She actually giggled.

  “Mina had quite the triumph tonight,” said Louisa-Margaretta, causing Mina’s gaze to snap to them. There was not a single thing about the evening that could be counted as a triumph. “Mr. Leopold Smith positively twisted my arm to get an introduction.”

  “Leopold Smith?” asked Nicholas, glancing at Mina. “I’ve never heard of the man.”

  “He’s a widower who came to London to look for a new wife,” said Louisa-Margaretta. “And he was very interested in our Mina.”

  “He hardly spoke,” said Mina, “and then ran away at the first possible moment. I hardly think that qualifies as being ‘very interested’.”

  “Don’t be so dismal, Mina.” Louisa-Margaretta tittered. “It’s a good start. Besides, his mother asked us to attend the opera with them next week. As we have a box, I invited them to join us.”

  “His mother,” said Mina.

  “Don’t go looking for reasons to reject him before you get to know him, Mina,” said Nicholas, though he had admitted just moments before that he did not know the man so could have no idea if Mr. Leopold Smith was the sort of gentleman worth pursuing.

  Neither Nicholas nor Louisa-Margaretta said another word on the matter, but Mina could feel the unspoken words hanging in the air around them. Mr. Smith was a widower, and Mina was a spinster, and no self-respecting spinster would dare turn away an unattached gentleman of any sort.

  Chapter 3

  Simon preferred a bruising gallop, but in London it was difficult to achieve a sedate canter, so he contented himself with stretching his legs. He needed time to formulate his next plan of attack. The last few social functions yielded no wifely candidates, and Simon could not fritter away the Season.

  Winding his way through the park, Simon’s mind pulled apart the possibilities. He did not think himself a demanding sort of man, yet it seemed impossible to find a woman who fit his needs. Someone capable. Kind. Hard working. And even if he did not require some otherworldly romantic connection with the lady, he hoped they could be friends. He did not relish the idea of tying himself to someone with whom he could not hold a conversation.

  A friend and companion. It should not be that difficult to find someone who could fill that role. Finch may mock him for his matrimonial goal, but Simon was determined. This would be the Season in which Simon Kingsley wed.

  Just ahead of him, Simon saw Miss Ashbrook walking along the path with her maid, and his chest tightened for all the wrong reasons. Thoughts of Finch’s words at the Hartleys’ ball made Simon’s stomach churn. His friend had claimed it impossible for Miss Ashbrook to have overheard their words, but Simon knew she had and it shamed him to the core. Truth or not, a gentleman did not speak like that about a lady. Anyone for that matter, but especially not a lady and especially not where she could hear. Unfortunately, Miss Ashbrook had left before Simon could apologize.

  Simon glanced around, searching for someone to give him an introduction, but he didn’t recognize a single person in the park. Perhaps it was for the best. Simon had no idea how to broach the topic without doing further harm. Simon told himself an apology was unnecessary, even though he knew it was a lie.

  The basket in Miss Ashbrook’s hands shifted, and a bundle tumbled to the ground, unseen. With a few quick steps, Simon retrieved it but couldn’t think how to get it to her without a proper introduction. Decorum fought with decency, and Simon drew close enough to catch Miss Ashbrook’s eye. When she saw him, she stopped, a blush filling her face.

  Giving a quick bow, Simon lifted the bundle towards her. “I don’t mean to intrude, Miss Ashbrook, but you dropped this.”

  Miss Ashbrook glanced at his hand and then down at her basket. “Thank you, Mr. Kingsley. I appreciate it. I cannot believe I was so foolish as to do that. The children would never forgive me if I lost some of their treats.”

  Taking the bundle from Simon, Miss Ashbrook tucked it firmly into the basket.

  “I’m glad to be of service and hope you will forgive my impertinence.”

  Miss Ashbrook looked at him, her brows drawing together. “Impertinence?”

  “To approach you without a formal introduction,” he clarified.

  Miss Ashbrook looked down at her basket, her hand shifting on the handle. Her eyes wandered back to his face, and Simon could tell he had said something wrong, though he had no idea what it was. Simon did not enjoy feeling like a cad. Especially for some unknown reason.

  “We have been introduced before,” she said, the words coming out so quietly that Simon almost missed them. Her eyes dropped to her basket. “Four times, actually.”

  Simon cleared his throat and fought back a wince. “Four?”

  Miss Ashbrook nodded, and she looked at him again. Simon knew she would see his discomfort, and he did not attempt to hide it. He deserved his shame, and Miss Ashbrook deserved to see it.

  “When you were introduced to my cousins, the Miss Mowbrays. At least, they were the Miss Mowbrays at the time. Beatrice, Judith, Lydia, and Evangeline.”

  Simon pictured each one of those ladies, but for the life of him, he could not remember having met Miss Ashbrook at the same time. If Finch hadn’t mentioned it at the Hartleys’ ball, Simon would not have known Miss Ashbrook’s name.

  The lady watched his face, her own growing sad. With a quick curtsy, she turned to leave, but Simon could not let things stand as such. In the last week he had hurt the poor lady severely multiple times, and it would not do to let that continue.

  “Miss Ashbrook, please,” said Simon.

  She stopped and turned back to him, her face betraying a hint of apprehension that hurt more than he cared to admit. Finch may have been the first to bruise her feelings, but Simon knew he had done his fair share to earn her caution.

  “I truly regret the pain I’ve caused you,” said Simon, tripping over his words to find the right ones. “It’s obvious that I have, and it appalls me to know that I have hurt you—both today and last week at the ball. I wanted to say something then but did not have the opportunity. I wish I could say that my friend was suffering from some unimaginable illness that causes thoughtless outbursts, but I shan’t excuse his behavior, what he said, or my part in the matter.”

  Miss Ashbrook’s eyes never once left his as he spoke each faltering word. Embarrassment, shock, gratitude; each filled her face in the slight movements of her features. Most ladies he knew would not allow such displays, but Miss Ashbrook’s came through clearly enough for him to catch every emotion she felt.

  *

  Mina stared at the man while each stuttering word tumbled out. She would never have thought Mr. Kingsley capable of becoming flustered, but she saw and heard the evidence of his discomfort as he forced himself to speak. His struggle to apologize without offending while simultaneously offending again (which brought more apologies) was humorous enough to make it difficult for Mina to hold onto her pain.

  Between Mr. Finch’s words and Mr. Kingsley’s inability to remember even one of their many introductions, Mina’s pride had been quite wounded. Yet here Mr. Kingsley was trying to make it right. It may only be a few words, but Mina saw the sincerity behind it, and it touched her. Not many people care about the feelings of an inconsequential spinster.

  “It’s fine, Mr. Kingsley,” said Mina, surprising herself. Though it surprised her even more that she felt like smiling at the relief he showed.

  “Thank you, Miss Ashbrook, but I’m afraid it may be a while before I believe it,” he said with a rueful smile.

  “You think me that petty?”

  “Definitely not. I simply mean it may be a while before I feel it is fine.”

  At that, Mina did smile. Ducking her head to hide the faint blush, she tried to keep her feelings at bay. She knew she must be the biggest ninny in all of England to go from being affronted to affected, but it was hard not to feel a thrill of pleasure at the thought that he cared. Mina held no delusions that his words had anything to do with her specifically, for any true gentleman would feel the same, but she had so little experience with gentlemanly behavior that Mina’s heart had no protection against such niceties.

  Snuffing that silly spark of feeling, Mina met Mr. Kingsley’s eyes again, firm in the belief that she needed to keep herself from running away with nonsensical ideas. She knew better than to throw her heart after a man simply because he had been kind to her. She should know better. Unfortunately, her heart rarely listened to reason.

  “Thank you for your kind words and for your help with my bundle, Mr. Kingsley, but I should go.” Mina shifted the basket, letting it remind her of her responsibilities and the importance of not losing herself during a short conversation.

  “Might I be of assistance?” he asked, gesturing to the basket. “It looks as if you and your maid have your hands quite full.”

  Mina glanced back at Jenny, who stood a respectful distance away. Mina had forgotten all about her lady’s maid standing there and hoped she hadn’t behaved embarrassingly. The last thing Mina needed or wanted was the servants gossiping about her making eyes at a man in the park.

  “I don’t wish to inconvenience you, Mr. Kingsley. We are quite capable, though I’m afraid we must be going, or we will be late.”

  “I insist,” said Mr. Kingsley, pulling the basket from Mina’s hands. “I’ve no more business to attend to today, and find myself with time on my hands. The least I could do is escort you to your destination.”

  “It’s a fair distance,” warned Mina. “It was so lovely today that I couldn’t bring myself to take a coach.”

  “I came out expressly for a walk, so it is no bother,” said Mr. Kingsley, smiling.

  It was dangerous to see him smile. It did terrible things to Mina’s heart. She needed to focus on the path ahead instead. Turning, she led him through the park with Jenny trailing behind them.

  “With the sun shining, it’s as if summer has come early,” said Mina. “In June, this weather would feel too crisp, but in the middle of March, it feels perfectly warm.”

  The weather. Such an inane topic, but it was a safe place to start.

  “Yes, I’d thought of going for a ride,” said Mr. Kingsley, “but I do not care for riding in London.”

  “It’s far too crowded for a decent gallop,” agreed Mina.

  “You ride?” Mr. Kingsley glanced at her, but Mina kept her eyes on the path.

  “Though I spend a lot of time in London, I fear I prefer the country. I spent most of my youth there, and every proper country girl knows how to ride,” she said with a smile. “It’s the best way to see the countryside.”

  “I completely agree. I long to get back to country.”

  Mina smiled, her mind turning back to her home. “The city has some wonderful things to offer, and I miss the theatre and museums when I am away, but for the most part, my heart belongs among the rolling hills and fields. There are so many things I love about it, and no matter how much I enjoy the trappings of Town, I find myself counting down the days until I can return home.”

  “I feel the same, though my reasons aren’t entirely sentimental,” said Mr. Kingsley. “I have a hard time leaving my estate. There are so many things that need doing that it is hard to stay here.”

  “I imagine so,” said Mina. “Where is your estate?”

  “Essex,” he replied.

  Mina sighed. “That is beautiful country.”

  Mr. Kingsley gave her an even more handsome smile, and Mina tripped over her own feet. Having spent nearly three decades walking, it should not have been so difficult, but her limbs would not cooperate. A steadying hand came to her elbow, and Mina’s cheeks heated at the feel of Mr. Kingsley’s touch. Though she wished she had hid her ungraceful gait, Mina was not unhappy with the brief touch.