Rebecca's Regret: Sweet Regency Romance (Heirs of Berkshire Book 3) Read online

  “Need anything, miss?”

  “Yes. Could you tell me where I could purchase a meal?”

  “There are a few chophouses down the street and some vendors along the beach if you don’t mind eating outside.”

  “Thank you.” Rebecca left the inn and stood for a moment on the street. Here she was in a fishing hamlet, wearing fine clothes and without an escort. People were bound to wonder about her at the very least and start prying at the worst. Her stomach grumbled again, and she knew she needed to find something to eat.

  She would need to find a room at a lodging house before the crowds left the season in London for the beach resorts. Although Worthing was smaller than Brighton, it had become more popular since Princess Amelia’s visit to cure her lame knee. Whether the waters were healing, she couldn't say, but it was calming to her.

  Rebecca walked down the street toward the beach, following her nose, as she thought about what might be happening back home. Her mother must have discovered she’d run away by now. She hadn’t come to breakfast. Her mare was missing, and her mother’s money was gone. Was she sending out a search party? Had she sent a message to Lord Danbury?

  For a moment, Rebecca felt a sliver of pride at the thought of causing her mother panic. It served her right for trying to force her into an abhorrent union.

  The scent of fried fish and sweet bread wafted in the air, and she left the town and walked towards the beach where there were vendors selling food to families on holiday, she guessed. Rebecca purchased fried fish and a roll. Taking a seat on a bench, she ate, savoring the tender meat and soft insides of the bread.

  Her belly full, her eyes wandered to the beach where the gray water crashed into the rocky sand. Drawn to it, she walked along the shoreline, closing her eyes and inhaling the salty air and listening to the roar of water and the shriek of gulls.

  She found a soft area and sat down, admiring the expanse of ocean alone, with no one around to disturb her. She resisted the urge to remove her boots and feel the sand through her toes. Sighing, she leaned back, lacing her fingers behind her head. She relaxed, listening to the waves, watching the clouds in the sky, and for a moment, she wasn’t anxious about her uncertain future. Her drowsiness, combined with the contentment of a full stomach and the sound of the waves, quickly put her to sleep.

  Chapter 2

  James Westcott needed some sea air in his lungs. Leaving behind the inn where he had taken his meal, he wandered into the streets of Worthing, walking toward the beach. He’d come to relax after the disappointing season in London. His life had taken a series of unfortunate turns. During the season, he had taken a great liking to Juliana Gibbon. A pretty spunky girl, she had wit, charm, beauty… she had fast become the light of his days.

  That was until she wed Lord Berkshire.

  He had suspected her feelings for the Earl, but she’d always insisted that he was like a brother to her, just a childhood friend. He had been foolish to believe her, to think that perhaps he’d had a chance. He’d been prepared to declare his feelings and make an offer of marriage.

  His heart was still shattered from the disappointment.

  Then, a few weeks ago, his elder brother caught an illness and died suddenly, leaving him the sole male heir to the estate and the new Viscount of Highfield. It wasn’t a responsibility he had foreseen undertaking, as his brother had been the picture of health and happily unmarried with time to spare, he thought.

  His mother, distraught at his brother’s death, had quickly become paranoid that James had not yet married, fearful she would lose her last son before an heir was produced.

  “Imagine if something happens to you,” she choked, fanning her tear-stained cheeks. “Without an heir, the estate will pass down to one of your cousins! Oh, how I would hate to lose this place. James, you must produce an heir quickly.”

  He’d shaken his head. “Yes, mother, but wouldn’t I need a wife first?”

  “Yes, I see your point. I suggest you get to it quickly, any will do, as long as she is from a nice family.”

  James cringed as he skirted the fishing docks, remembering their conversation. It was bad enough that he’d been jilted, his brother had passed, and that he was now in charge of the large estate. Now his mother was pressuring him to marry, something far from his mind after the heartbreak with Juliana.

  Who could match her wit and charm? He’d met no one quite like her and doubted they just appeared when one most wanted one.

  It had all been too much, so he’d left. Hence his trip to Worthing, his favorite seaside resort, where no one but the innkeeper and merchants knew him, and he could unwind a little while he planned his next move. He supposed that would include finding a wife.

  His gaze lifted to the ladies passing him in the street before looking down again. No, none of them. No lady seemed able to tempt his fancy, not with his heart so heavy.

  Leaving the village behind, he set out along the shore, breathing in the sea air and tearing his thoughts from his responsibilities. The less he dwelled on them, the happier he’d be. But it was getting late, and he would need to return to the inn soon. The sun, an orange globe, hovered above the horizon, soon to set. But he walked on, further away from the sea bathers. Kicking the stones, he stayed away from the tide as it rushed in and out. Something caught his eye. A dark form lay on the sand, unmoving. He squinted, walking closer.

  Why, it was a woman! What could she be doing out here all on her own?

  Curiosity pricked at him, and he moved closer, trying to get a good look at her face. But it was turned away from him. Was she hurt?

  With the light rise and fall of her chest, he guessed she was in a deep sleep. He took notice of her clothing — she was no commoner with such a fashionable dress. He stopped, suddenly feeling uncomfortable approaching a sleeping lady, and looked around. Where was her party? Had they left her here?

  Clearing his throat, he took a few more steps until he was near enough that he could rouse her with his voice. “Excuse me, miss? Miss? Are you hurt?”

  The woman shifted, her blonde hair catching the golden light of the setting sun. Her eyes fluttered open and she suddenly froze, then bolted upright, her gaze snapping to him. His jaw slackened. It couldn’t be.

  “Miss… Rebecca Allen?” he asked in disbelief.

  He remembered her well from last season, constantly antagonizing Juliana. In fact, her mother had sought to ruin Juliana’s reputation as well as her friend Miss Hawthorn’s, by sending Miss Hawthorn a letter she thought was from her beloved Walter. It sent her off into the east end of London, an unsafe place for a lady. In doing so, she irreparably damaged her own daughter Rebecca’s reputation and chances of a good marriage when the ruse came to light.

  Rebecca looked just as surprised to see him. “Mr. Westcott!” She scrambled to her feet, brushing sand from her skirts before giving him a slight curtsy. “I apologize. I did not realize I had fallen asleep.”

  James again looked around for her party. She caught him looking.

  “I am alone,” she confessed.

  “Why?” Rebecca was the definition of refined. Before the scandal, she had been popular with many of his friends and acquaintances. She breezed through any social gathering with ease as she flirted with eligible bachelors.

  Seeing her disheveled out on the shore was a sight he never would have expected.

  She straightened, lifting her proud golden head. “That is not your concern.” Her brow creased as she looked to the setting sun. “Although… would you be so kind as to escort me back to my lodging?”

  “This is… highly unusual.” James shifted on his feet, not daring to draw too close to her. Miss Rebecca Allen was untouchable. Much too beautiful and rich to be seen with the likes of him. A second son.

  “Would you prefer I made my way back on my own? At this late hour?” Her brows rose questioningly, and he remembered just how much of a brat she could be. She’d certainly given Juliana grief.

  “Of course not.” He e
xtended an arm, which she took, looping her hand into his elbow. A strange warmth traveled the length of his arm.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  They set off across the sand, walking slowly so she wouldn’t trip.

  “You’re a long way from home,” he said. “Is your mother here? Does she know you’re out alone without your maid?”

  Her chin tilted up.

  James sighed. “She doesn’t, does she? You can’t possibly have…” He wasn’t sure what Rebecca had done. But whatever was going on here, it did not look good for her. With her reputation already so tarnished…

  “If you must know, I’ve run away,” she snapped. “No one but Lord Danbury will take me as a wife now and I simply will not accept his proposal. I’d rather die an old spinster.”

  James couldn't help bursting into laughter at her last sentiment, but the glare she shot back quieted him. “My apologies,” he said. “That was insensitive. It must have been difficult ending the season in the way that you did.”

  “You were, and it was. But not as difficult as wedding the Baron. I simply couldn’t.”

  “Now that you’ve run away, what is your plan, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  She clenched her jaw. A strand of hair swept across it, bringing his attention to the shape of her pretty chin, he gazed longer than appropriate. He tore his eyes away, reminding himself that this woman’s mother had well and truly tried to harm Miss Hawthorn and, inadvertently, Juliana.

  And apparently, she was also harming her own daughter…

  “I thought I would look for employment,” she finally said, tucking the loose strands of golden hair behind her ear. “I have some money to get by in the meantime, but it is not an ideal long-term solution.”

  “It’s not,” James agreed. He removed his hat, brushing his dark hair from his forehead before replacing it. “I can’t picture you, a cultured lady, finding work around these parts.” He couldn’t see her working at all. Things must really be bad at home for her.

  “Neither can I,” she admitted.

  He stopped walking. “You are that desperate to avoid marriage to Lord Danbury?” He thought she was ready to do just that, marry for his title. Maybe he had misjudged her?

  She drew herself up to her fullest height. Her chin fell just below his shoulder. “I am.”

  Miss Rebecca Allen, willingly taking several steps down from her social class all to avoid a marriage to the Baron of Danbury? James thought she was truly desperate.

  Then again, so was he.

  He chuckled under his breath, looking down at his feet. Could they solve each other’s problems? The idea blossomed in his mind, taking root and refusing to leave.

  “What is that silly grin for?” Rebecca scowled, “I don’t see it as funny.”

  He must be crazy to think of it. “Of course not.” He composed himself, shaking his head. “I was only thinking of my situation… my brother passed away.”

  She looked surprised, her lips parting. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She stopped, her hand clutching her chest. The wind blowing tendrils from her pins. “But I confess, I see no reason it would bring you humor.”

  “No, you’re right. It’s just that I am now Viscount Westcott of Highfield, and my mother is anxious, for fear I may expire without an heir. She demands that I find a wife. Now.”

  She stilled, clasping her hands together.

  For a moment, he almost backtracked. All he needed to do was escort her to her lodgings and leave her to do as she would with her life. And he would continue to suffer the burden of finding a suitable wife to meet his mother’s wishes…

  But where would that leave Miss Allen? Could he really walk away from her when he might help? He knew she was well above him, but now that he was the Viscount, it made him more suitable, didn’t it?

  He took a deep breath. “Perhaps you would not need to find employment after all.”

  She blinked. “What are you saying?” Her voice pitched — did she know what he intended to ask?

  Removing his hat, he faced her fully, staring into a lovely face that only moments ago he never would have imagined would be the one he’d see for the rest of his life. It wasn’t a disagreeable face in the slightest, at least…

  “Miss Allen. Perhaps it is more than chance that we met here today, for you see, I’m in need of a wife, and you are in need of an escape from wedding the Baron. We could solve both our troubles right now. Would you consent to becoming my wife?” There, he’d asked.

  Her lips parted, and she looked away, frowning. “I… I’m flattered, Lord Westcott.”

  She didn’t look flattered. She looked just as trapped as he imagined she felt.

  “You can take some time to think it over,” he blurted. “I certainly won’t expect much from you. We don’t have to see each other much at all, if that’s what you’d like.” He chuckled, then realized how terribly sad that existence would be. It wouldn’t compare to what he could have had with Juliana.

  “So it would be a marriage of convenience,” Rebecca said hotly, her gaze snapping to his.

  He swallowed. “I’m sorry, I’ve offended you.”

  Her face softened slightly. “No, I’m not offended,” she shook her head. “I suppose our mothers are to blame. They have forced us into this situation.”

  She went silent, and James shuffled awkwardly on his feet. The sun was almost down. “Will you sleep on it then?”

  “No.” She raised her head high. “I have no need. This isn’t much different from my mother finding a titled husband for me to marry. No, I’ve made my decision, at least it is mine.”

  His heart picked up its pace. “And?”

  “I would be honored to become your wife, Lord Westcott.” Her voice was flat, as if she were entertaining dull guests.

  His already trampled heart pricked at her lack of enthusiasm. Was he making a mistake?

  “Excellent,” he said, equally dull.

  She placed her arm on his elbow again, and they began walking. “We must be wed right away,” she said. “We can elope.”

  “Elope?” James choked.

  “Yes. My mother would not approve otherwise, as I am promised to Lord Danbury. She expected us to wed tomorrow.” She paused, looking at him. “Can we wed tomorrow?”

  “I suppose,” James nodded weakly. This was happening too fast. He went from a carefree bachelor, to grieving brother, to betrothed, in the space of a few weeks. Tomorrow, he would be a married man. To Rebecca Allen, of all people.

  “I must check with the local parish. Are you of age?” He hadn’t thought of her age.

  She seemed to relax against him as her acceptance to his proposal sunk in. “Yes, I am, and I much prefer you to Lord Danbury. Thank you, Lord Westcott.”

  “My pleasure,” he said. Preferring him to Lord Danbury wasn’t saying much. “You will be expected to run the estate as the new mistress of the house.”

  She perked up at that. “Will I?”

  He nodded. “It would keep you busy managing the household. Are you up for it?”

  “I most certainly am.” She smiled, and for the first time genuinely seemed grateful for his offer. His racing heart calmed.

  Wedding Rebecca Allen wouldn’t be so inconvenient. He wouldn’t expect love to come out of the union, but they would make a handsome couple and they could tolerate each other, at least. He would just put aside finding what he had with Juliana.

  Rebecca relaxed as they made their way back toward town, leaving the beach behind. She should have been panicked at the decision she’d just made, but she wasn’t. A strange warm and calm feeling settled in her as she walked beside Lord Westcott. It was the perfect answer to her dilemma. Surely it would satisfy her mother to have Viscount Westcott as a son-in-law? If her mother could be satisfied. A viscountess was higher than a baroness after all.

  “Where are you staying?” James asked.

  “The Black Fish Inn. I was going to find a rooming house tomorrow, but now...”


  “Yes, I see your point. I will visit the Rector in the morning, then come by when I can arrange a time with him.” He stopped outside the inn. “You have time to refuse this proposal, I won’t hold you to it if you have any doubts. I know it was unexpected and sudden.”

  His striking brown eyes studied her. She hadn’t noticed how intense they were, but then she hadn’t given him much notice in the past. He was rather handsome. She could enjoy looking at him for the rest of her life. She shook her head.

  “No, Lord Westcott, I won’t change my mind.”

  He visibly relaxed, giving her a small smile. Her heart fluttered. A strange new feeling settled inside her.

  “Under the circumstances, I think you should call me James,” his smile quirked.

  “James,” testing his name out. She nodded.

  “I will be by in the morning as soon as I speak with the Rector. We’ll need two witnesses. My man can be there, how about your maid?”

  She bit her lip, giving him a sheepish look. “I didn’t bring her,” she admitted. “She would have told my mother, and then I would be standing up with Lord Danbury tomorrow instead of you.” She watched his reaction out of the corner of her eye.

  He shook his head. “I can understand that. You may hire another maid more loyal to you when we return home. In the meantime, I’ll take care of the other witness.”

  He reached for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze, causing her heart to flutter again. What was wrong with her? He bowed, tipping his hat before retreating down the walkway. She watched him for a few minutes before entering the inn. “James,” she tested the name on her lips. What a strange man. He didn’t think her odd for leaving home unaccompanied.

  Chapter 3

  James woke early, drinking a quick coffee and eating toast sent to his room before heading over to St. Paul’s where he arranged to meet the Reverend Davidson, and hoped to schedule a quiet ceremony later in the day. The Reverend had been recommended by the innkeeper.

  A clerk guided him to a wooden door in a small alcove. A plaque held the name of William Davidson, and he announced James to the Reverend.