Rebecca's Regret: Sweet Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 3)
Rebecca’s Regret
Heirs of Berkshire Book three
Karen Evelyn
Rebecca’s Regret
Heirs of Berkshire Book Three
Copyright © 2020 by Karen Evelyn.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review, without the prior written consent from the author. For more information, address the author at:
karen@karenlynneauthor.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Any likeness to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Characters and storyline are products of the author’s imagination.
Rev. 1
Contents
Other Books by Karen Lynne
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Thank You
The Earl’s Reluctant Bride
Chapter 2
About the Author
Other Books by Karen Lynne
Brides of Somerset Series
Heirs of Berkshire Series
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Chapter 1
Rebecca Allen pressed her ear against the parlor door, straining to hear. She rarely eavesdropped, listening behind closed doors. But she had seen Silas Pincock arrive by carriage through her window, watching as he heaved himself out and surveyed her parents’ estate. He’d been smacking his lips. A chill ran through her at the memory.
He was revolting, and she knew exactly what the Baron had come for.
They had left the London season in disgrace, when Lord Berkshire discovered her mother’s deception. A vile act. She wouldn’t believe it involved her mother had she not seen the letter herself. It was her mother’s handwriting; she knew it and she was ashamed. Not that it reflected on her, but that Patience Hawthorn’s life had been put in danger, by her mother, for the sake of a titled marriage.
Her mother’s voice was smooth and charming, and hard to hear. It was only when Lord Danbury spoke that Rebecca could hear every word.
“Yes, that is a suitable arrangement. Your daughter will suit my needs handsomely.”
Nausea rose in Rebecca’s throat.
“Shall we plan for the union next week?” her mother asked pleasantly.
Next week.
That was how soon her mother wanted to get her own daughter off her hands, selling her off to the highest bidder, before Rebecca had other prospects. Lord Danbury had been vying for her hand last season, but there were others she had hopes for getting close to. Not necessarily because she loved them, but because they were at least young enough to be her peers. There was the hope of youthful, romantic love in time.
But then her mother became caught up in a damning scandal that chased all of Rebecca’s suitors away.
All but one.
“Perhaps sooner, Lady Allen. I’m not getting any younger!” Lord Danbury burst into boisterous laughter. The man had no shame.
Rebecca’s palms grew sweaty. Her head pounded.
“Let us seal the union in two days’ time,” he continued. “Quiet, no fuss. I understand you and your daughter would like to keep out of the public’s eye for the time being.”
Rebecca couldn’t quite hear her mother’s reply. Her voice had dipped into a hushed, ashamed tone. As it should have. Her mother had ruined everything for her. Destroying the reputation of other young women and going after Patience had been despicable. Once they had returned home, Rebecca avoided her mother whenever possible. She would never forgive her.
“Excellent!” Lord Danbury’s voice boomed. “I will make plans for us to wed in two days then.”
She could stand it no longer. Shoving the doors open, she rushed into the room, not caring of the impropriety of listening at doors, intruding unannounced. Her already shredded reputation could survive this.
“No, Mama!” she cried, refusing to look at the old, balding man seated across from her mother. “Please. I will not wed so soon.”
Lady Allen’s eyes narrowed. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a harsh bun, her shoulders thrown back and head held high. Despite the scandal, her mother would always be a proud woman.
“Rebecca. Return to your room, please. Lord Danbury and I have yet to finish our business.”
“And I’m to have no part in discussing my future?” Rebecca retorted.
Lord Danbury stood. “I believe I will take my leave. Send me correspondence with the final details, Lady Allen. Remember, two days.” He fastened his dull gaze on Rebecca and grinned, showing yellow, crooked teeth.
He hadn’t even bothered to bow as the door closed behind him. She would never let this man near her. Rebecca flung herself at her mother, kneeling beside her chair, pleading with every fiber of her being.
“Mama, please. Just give it a few more months. The scandal will fade from people’s memory, and—”
“Rebecca, are you mad?” her mother hissed. “It’s in every paper! We are ruined forever unless you wed Lord Danbury. You have no other options. The sooner we get the wedding over with, the better. I will send at once to the seamstress to have a suitable dress made…”
“I will not marry him!” Rebecca cried, springing to her feet.
“You are a selfish, foolish girl!” her mother snapped.
“I’m selfish? Need I remind you that our problems are of your doing?”
Lady Allen stood, a hand drawing back. Rebecca flinched away, but her mother never completed the blow. Breathing hard, Lady Allen dropped her hand.
“All I ever did was for you,” she whispered. “I expect more respect and gratitude.”
“You will never have it,” Rebecca seethed, tears slipping down her face. “And I will not marry Lord Danbury. You can’t make me. I’d rather die.”
“I’ve heard enough of your dramatics.” Lady Allen swept past Rebecca; head held high. “Return to your room and stay there until you can regain control of your emotions. I’ve raised you to be better than this, Rebecca. If you do not marry him, you will have no place in this household. I will disown you.”
She disappeared through the sitting room doors.
Vision blurring with tears, Rebecca hitched her skirts and ran up the stairs to her room. Slamming the door closed behind her, she flung herself onto her bed, her shoulders shaking with sobs.
Was this to be her fate? Bonded to Lord Danbury for the rest of his life? A widow within a decade or more? Or worse, dead. The thought sent shivers down her spine. He’d lost three wives; their union would be cursed.
A loveless marriage to a man who repulsed her. Oh, how far she had fallen.
She wouldn’t do it. No matter how much her mother threatened, no matter what blemishes were on her reputation, she would not marry such a man — one who had already had three wives. She couldn’t get the thought from her head.
She refused to become the fourth.
Her mother’s last words rang in her ears. No place in the household. Disowned. She wished for her father. If he were alive, her mother would never force her.
Sitting up and swiping the tears from her cheeks, Rebecca scowled
. Her mother couldn’t disown her if she left on her own. She could run to her sister.
No, her mother would find her. Her sister would never go against her mother.
Could she find her way on her own?
Her heart beat fast at the thought. Did she dare do it? Leave her family’s estate? The thought terrified her. Her reputation would be beyond repair if she ran away. Not even Lord Danbury would take her.
Determination overlapped her fear as the thought increased. Yes, this was how she could avoid wedding the Baron. It was dangerous and foolish, and she would have no help or connections, but if she disappeared for a while where her mother could not find her, perhaps found work…
Rebecca got to her feet, mind racing. Pulling out a traveling satchel from under the bed, she began packing some of her least expensive clothes. “Where will I go?” she muttered to herself. She straightened, looking out the window. Not London. She knew too many people there. She had to disappear, at least for a few days.
“I’ll go to the sea.” The small towns that dotted the coastline would be perfect for her to get away, for a little while at least. She remembered happy times on the shore when her father was alive. But that had stopped when he passed.
Her mother had changed, become more determined, ruthless. Why hadn’t she seen it before now?
She would need more money than she had. Her pen money would not get her far.
After packing, Rebecca pushed the bag under her bed and cracked her door open. Tiptoeing down the hall, she reached her mother’s room just as a maid exited it.
“Excuse me, miss,” she murmured before retreating around a corner.
Rebecca cursed under her breath. She would have to be more careful around the staff. If they suspected her plans, they would report to her mother. She needed to be well on her way tonight before that happened.
Easing the door open wider, she looked into the master bedroom. When she was sure her mother was not inside, she walked in and immediately went to her drawers, pulling them out and rummaging for cash. She had to have hidden a stash away somewhere…
Finally, she pulled open a cabinet full of her mother’s jewelry and found a tin stuffed to the brim with pound notes. Grabbing the lot, she stuffed them in her pocket, then considered the jewelry. She could sell them for more money if she needed. No, her mother would know. Retreating to her room, she pulled out the bag and stuffed the money away before sitting back, satisfied.
She would leave tonight, while it was dark, and the staff were sleeping. She’d take a horse to the crossroads. The mail coach passed by every evening. Rebecca looked around her room and ran a hand along a satin pillow. She always took her parents’ money for granted. In fact, she was just as proud and vain as her mother. It would be difficult to leave this all behind.
But she’d been humbled, appalled, her name soiled by the actions of her mother. What did she have to lose now? She would gladly trade wealth and comfortable living for a life of freedom.
She refused to dine that night, instead remaining in her room and making further plans about where she would go and what she would do once she arrived there. There were many unknowns, and it was frightening to think of all the things that could happen to her, but she wouldn’t back down. She would travel alone, without her maid.
Lord Danbury would find himself alone at the church in two days, and that was worth every uncertainty.
Once the sun had fully set, Rebecca listened as the estate settled, quiet except for the wind outside. She shuddered under her covers before forcing herself out of bed. Slowly, she dressed herself, mouth dry, heart beating wildly against her chest. She slipped the bulk of her money into the pocket of her under skirt, putting just enough in her reticule for passage to the coast.
She was really doing this. She was running away, leaving behind everything she had ever known.
After buttoning her coat, she lifted the bag and snuck out of her room, the door creaking much too loudly. She crept down the back stairs. Rounding to the back of the house where the servants worked, she unlocked the door and stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air.
Swallowing hard, she clutched the satchel firmly in her hand and made for the stables. It was dark inside, so she had to light a lantern, but turned the wick low. The horses blinked sleepily at her. The chestnut mare at the end was hers and would suit her nicely.
“Hello, Madeline,” she greeted. “Ready for an adventure?” The mare snorted, annoyed she had been so rudely awakened.
It would be difficult to leave her, but necessary.
Getting her saddled took longer than Rebecca wanted. She continuously paused, listening for any servants who might have heard her working. Once Madeline was saddled and bridled, Rebecca secured her luggage and mounted, softly clicking her tongue to move the mare out of the stable.
This was it. Turning to take in her home one last time, Rebecca swallowed back the fear and sorrow, then coaxed Madeline to canter into the night.
Rebecca was thankful she had bought an inside seat on the crowded mail coach. For a few shillings, a lad had agreed to keep her mare ‘til tomorrow, then return her home. By then, she hoped to be far from her mother’s reach.
It was late and dark by the time she pulled herself from the dusty coach in Chichester. Finding an inn at the edge of town, she paid a few shillings for a room. The innkeeper narrowed his eyes at her for waking him in the middle of the night, but didn’t ask questions as he handed her a key. She carried her own bag up to her room. She needed sleep.
Fumbling with the key in the dim hall, she finally opened the lock. The room faced the building next door, a small bed was pushed against the wall and a basin sat on an old dresser. Too tired to care, she undressed and slipped on her nightgown. Splashing cold water on her face, she washed the day’s travel away. She would find better lodgings tomorrow in Worthing.
As tired as she was, sleep evaded her as she tossed and turned all night, cursing herself for being so foolish. What was she doing? How could she throw away her life like this? But whenever she thought about getting up and returning home, she told herself there was nothing there for her now. Her only path was forward.
She didn’t get much sleep, and as soon as the first misty light entered her room, she got up. Cold water greeted her from the ratty bureau that sat below a cracked mirror. It would have to do. How she missed her maid, but life would be different and that was just fine.
Rebecca handed the key to the innkeeper. “You said the mail coach to Worthing leaves this morning?”
“Yes miss, it stops at Worthing on the way to Brighton. It stops by the blacksmith across the road; you best hurry, it will be here in the next fifteen minutes.” The innkeeper eyed her lone bag.
As the coach bumped along the coastal road, she wished she had thought to buy some food as her stomach churned.
The scents in the air shifted from dewy countryside to salty brine, and the endless sea appeared before her. Sucking in a breath of relief, she peered out the window at the seaside town, where residents went about their daily business. It was but a small fishing village really, but it was quiet, more so than Brighton up the road. Here she could go about unnoticed, she hoped.
Rebecca received a few looks as she climbed out of the coach, but she ignored them. She must have been a sight — nice clothes, traveling alone, face drooping from lack of sleep.
Her first item of business was finding a place to sleep for the night. Then she would hunt down something to eat and make a plan from there. Tomorrow she would inquire about work, if she could. She frowned when she thought of what might be available around here. Perhaps she could work as a maid or a cook in one of the resorts that spotted the town.
Her pride twisted painfully inside her, offended at the thought. Was this what she wanted? To descend so low in status that she would have to serve others for meager pay?
Lord Danbury almost didn’t sound so bad. She’d still have all the comforts she was used to. All she would have to do was
to be available whenever he wanted her and avoid him for the rest of his sorry life. But the thought of dining with him, his thick fingers on her skin, made her shudder with revulsion. No, she would take anything over that.
She found the Black Fish Inn and inquired about their rooms. The woman there looked her up and down with a frown. “You look far from home, if you don’t mind me saying, miss.”
Rebecca bristled. “I mind others poking into my business. Now, is there a room or not?” She knew she appeared spoiled and unpleasant, but she had little patience at the moment and her head was hurting from lack of food and sleep.
The woman shrugged and grabbed a ring of keys before selecting one. “Do you have any more luggage?”
“No.” Rebecca tightened her grip on her satchel.
“Your room is the first on the left, right up those stairs.” The woman shrugged.
“Thank you.” Rebecca moved toward the stairs.
She found her room, wrinkling her nose when she stepped inside. It was dustier than the last inn she’d stayed in, and smaller, too. The smell of fish was overwhelming. Setting her bag on the thin mattress, she looked out the dirty window and saw fishing boats docked below. Perhaps she shouldn’t have picked an inn that was so close to the docks…
Collapsing on the bed, Rebecca closed her eyes. Fatigue gripped her tight, pinning her to the bed. All she wanted to do was sleep.
Her stomach growled, and she groaned, holding a hand over her stomach.
And eat. She needed food.
Getting up, she moved her bag under the bed and fished in her skirt. Extracting some coins, she placed them in her reticule before returning downstairs.