A Spinster for the Earl: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel (The Hale Sisters Book 3)
A Spinster for the Earl: Chapter 1

Lucy sat on the dusty pink parlor chair and watched her oldest sister Emma pace back and forth. Emma reminded Lucy of a teapot as it reached its boiling point. She was frenetic, bouncing from spot to spot around the drawing room. Her footsteps echoed off the grand ceiling. All the beautiful porcelain decorations in the cupboard rattled ever so softly.

“Everything looks perfect,” Lucy assured her.

Emma was a duchess, having married the handsome and powerful Duke of Radford only five years earlier. Lucy had had a front-row seat to all her sisters’ romances. The only thing she envied, though, was the beautiful things her sisters had to show for their successful matches. Anyone who said that money couldn’t buy happiness obviously had enough money so as to never have to worry about their future. Lucy couldn’t live off her father’s wealth forever while retaining her freedom.

Harriet scoffed, her nose in the air. “I don’t think you could sound any more annoyed if you tried.”

Lucy hadn’t seen her older sisters in quite some time. Each of them, including Margaret, the eldest, was happily married and off living her own fairytale. It was exactly how it was supposed to be, each of them having tied off all the loose ends of their lives in neat, tidy, pleasing bows. To have your life over by twenty and three seemed a cruel fate.

“What is this fundraiser even for?” Harriet asked.

Harriet was the closest in age to Lucy. She could not have been any more different than her. She had curly brown hair. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were always dusted with a heavy amount of color as if she were always cold. It had always made her look youthful and sweet.

Lucy, on the other hand, had straight, dark, nearly black hair. Her features were soft, and yet her eyes often looked stern and unforgiving. She had often been told that she looked unapproachable. If that was what kept men at bay, then so be it.

Emma stopped moving and crossed her arms. “How do you not know? This has been my greatest focus for the last five months!”

Harriet frowned. “My greatest focus has been Violet,” she said of her two-year-old daughter.

“This fundraiser is for the education of young ladies,” Lucy announced.

“Specifically,” Emma added, “those in the country who have less access to the offerings that London Society may have.”

Emma was the second-born Hale daughter. She was tall with foxlike eyes and a mischievous smile that suggested that she thought more than she ever said. While she and Lucy had their own similarities, Emma had a golden tongue and managed to always say the right things to the right people.

“I wish there was something that I could do to help with your fundraiser,” Lucy said.

While Lucy had always been the bluestocking of the Hale sisters, Emma had often expressed an interest in learning. That was something the two had always had in common.

“You know how much this cause appeals to me.”

“Well,” Emma began, fluffing up the pink peonies in a vase on the table. “I am certain I can dream up something if you wish to help with tonight’s auction. There must be something. We can use any help we can get with Margaret in her confinement.”

Margaret, the first-born Hale daughter, had always dreamed of having a huge family. She and her husband were well on their way with a child due within the next several months.

“Anything,” Lucy said. “It would be a dream to inspire young women to educate themselves.”

“Mhm.” Emma smiled, stopping to look at her sister. She crossed her arms and paused, looking intently at Lucy, as if she were trying to figure her out. “But I also think it might be best if you socialize on the floor for the evening. The start of the Season is in only a few weeks. Perhaps someone here this evening might finally catch your eye.”

Lucy shook her head. “I would rather put my efforts into something useful.”

Emma sighed. “Mama and Papa are frustrated by your stubbornness. Can you not at least try?”

“Why waste my energy trying something that I already know will be of no use to me? Quite the detriment, actually. I value my independence in a world that does not want to afford me any.”

Emma crossed her arms. “Marriage isn’t about control, Lucy. Are you certain that it is not for you?”

Lucy frowned, her nose twitching slightly. Everyone always thought they knew what was best for her. “I—Yes, yes, I am certain.”

“Why?”

“Because it is better for me. I value my autonomy and education more than I value a man. How could I? It is not a hard decision to make,” Lucy explained.

“But, Lucy,” Harriet put in, “there is no decision to make. You can have both. Morgan allows me all the independence I want, although I hardly crave it.”

“And Colin and I read every evening before we fall asleep,” Emma added. “We believe that sharpening the mind together is important for a lasting marriage.”

Lucy frowned, looking between her sisters. She was happy that things had worked out for them the way they had hoped, but they both knew that she was resolute in her ideas about marriage. She had never met a man who she believed could add to her life in any substantial way.

“You both are the exceptions, but not the rules,” she said. “Besides, when Harriet and I stayed with Aunt Bridget four summers ago, I envied her lifestyle. She lives the way I wish to.”

“She married when she was younger to afford her lifestyle,” Emma pointed out.

Harriet snorted into her palm. “Maybe you can marry an elderly gentleman who can leave you with a great fortune.”

“I would rather not.” Lucy rolled her eyes.

“That is just our Lucy,” Emma cooed, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “She is the unattainable spinster, after all.”

Harriet snickered at the name they had given her during her third season.

Lucy stood up, balling her fists. “Can you stop calling me that? Mama and Papa were beside themselves when they heard that nickname! Besides, unattainable implies that someone wishes to attain my vows, and I must assure you, I have scared away every man of the ton.”

Emma laughed. “I would not worry too much about upsetting Mama and Papa,” she said. “You still have yet to meet your love match, I believe.”

Lucy flipped through a book she’d found on the coffee table, Water Under the Bridge. “Oh, Is Lord Byron here tonight?”

“Do not be so negative,” Harriet scolded her. “I believed I was destined to be a spinster before—”

“Yes, thank you.” Lucy sighed. “I lived through your love story, spare me from another lifetime of it.”

“I am only saying that you can never be certain what happiness lies around the corner.”

Lucy’s lip curled back. “Do not make it sound as if it is poised to attack me.”

Her two sisters laughed.

Emma patted Harriet on the back and checked the grandfather clock. Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “Colin must be welcoming our first guests just now,” she said. “I am so nervous.”

“Do you think your auction will make enough money?” Harriet asked.

Emma bit her lip lightly. “Some of his wealthier acquaintances are coming. Lord Clifton will be in attendance.”

“Oh, I despise him,” Harriet sneered. “He is so full of himself.”

“And Lord Langley,” Emma went on.

Harriet groaned again.

“Have you met Lord Ramsbury?”

Harriet narrowed her brows. “I believe Morgan has mentioned him once or twice. They have done business together, I believe.”

“Very popular, indeed. He’s invested in Weston Downs, now, you know.” Emma pursed her lips, pouring herself a glass of water from the decanter. “My husband is not very fond of the Earl of Ramsbury. He believes him to be a bad influence on Adam, but I hear he’s a fantastic business partner.”

Lucy perked up a little at the mention of Adam Weston. He was Emma’s brother-in-law, and in turn, had always seemed like family to her. They couldn’t have been more different, though. Adam was not academically gifted in the slightest, not to mention that he had a reputation for being a rake. It was no wonder. He was easily the most charming and gregarious person in any room.

If Lucy had ever been around Lord Ramsbury, she wasn’t certain she would have noticed. She tried her best to avoid Adam when he was around his loutish friends. He was so much more preferable when he was being his regular, fun-loving, big-hearted, airheaded self.

“Is the Earl just as notorious as Adam?” she asked.

Emma nodded. “Perhaps worse. Colin told me he plans on talking to the Earl tonight. While Lord Ramsbury has avoided scandal this long, he worries it is only a matter of time. We would hate for this charity event to be spoken of for all the wrong reasons. I do feel bad for him, though. Besides those of his rakishness, the rumors are that his mother is not of sound mind.”

“But he must be wealthy?”

“Of course. I can only hope he bids generously for something.” Emma smiled. She looked back at the clock. “We should be going out to mingle with the guests. The auction will be beginning shortly.”

Lucy sighed and stood up. If not for Emma, she would have shown her disdain very apparently on her face. She had never gotten any enjoyment from the social season. If it were up to her, life year-round would be spent in the country, reading book after book. At the very least, she was excited to see her friend Rose. It had been a few months since they had last seen each other. Surely, there was much to discuss.

She left the small parlor and walked down the hallway. It had been several years since she had stayed here at the Terrell Estate. That felt like so long ago, back when she had still felt like a child herself and Emma had been preparing to marry.

The house was peculiar, with its dark wood, high ceilings, somber paintings, and white marble floors. The Duke of Radford, Emma’s husband, had always been particularly serious with everyone but her.

Although Lucy felt compelled to lie to her sisters, the truth was that the way Emma and Harriet had found love was enviable. But as she had made it clear to her sisters earlier, that was the exception, not the rule. Lucy had likely crossed paths with every suitor in London at this point. If someone could really give her everything she wanted, then hypothetically she would marry. But that was all fantasy. Men wanted dutiful wives like Emma and Harriet. Lucy had long known her intelligence and candor to be particularly threatening.

She passed through the foyer, watching guests arrive and congregate around the walls. All of them had been waiting for the Season to start. Still weeks away, they were overeager, and it showed. She turned her nose up. Everyone seemed so fake.

“Miss Lucy!”

Lucy turned her focus to the source of the voice. It was a young woman whom she had met a handful of times but never bothered to learn her name. She smiled tightly and curtsied politely at the blonde woman, who swatted her fan gracelessly through the air.

“Pleasure to see you,” Lucy said.

“The Duchess must be thrilled to see her auction all come together!” The woman’s eyes widened slightly, a movement so quick that Lucy might have missed it if she wasn’t paying attention. “I have only heard of it constantly.”

Lucy tried not to frown. The woman had a way of talking that made even the most backhanded of insults sound sweet, but Lucy knew better.

“I am rather proud to see my sister working hard for a cause that she values.”

The woman nodded. “Oh, absolutely! Intelligence is only second to beauty.” She lightly patted her updo, making sure that it was still effortlessly buoyant and lively. “That is God’s way of leveling the competition, I suppose.”

Lucy tilted her head slightly, no longer able to hide the irritated scowl on her face. “Am I to assume you mean that you and I are competing?”

“You and I are not in competition,” the woman said, her eyes lighting up when she spotted a gentleman walk through the door. “You have not shown much interest in securing a husband, nor are my suitors any bit similar to yours.”

A man that Lucy had never seen before wove in between partygoers and acquaintances. She craned her neck subtly, trying to get a better look at him. He stopped and talked to the Duke of Radford, but he was still out of her line of sight.

“That is true.” She looked back at the blonde woman.

Lucy had long known that if she had to wonder whether she’d just been insulted, she usually had been.

She looked back in the direction of the man that had just caught her eye. “Who is that?”

The woman laughed as if it was funny that Lucy even wanted to know. “The Earl of Ramsbury,” she said. “I wonder if this is the season he decides to marry…” she trailed off with a breathy sigh.

Lucy shrugged. She couldn’t muster up the slightest bit of enthusiasm, which was likely what the woman wanted. It proved her point. Lucy wasn’t exactly competition for anyone. She liked to think it was because she was too smart for her own good, but sometimes that little nagging voice in her head wanted to be a little more. Didn’t everyone want to feel beautiful?

The Earl of Ramsbury stepped away from the Duke, his head held high, glancing around the room. Lucy clenched her jaw to stop it from falling open. He was tall, his brown hair soft and perfectly styled. His eyes were a piercing blue. His head turned, and he looked at the blonde woman with disinterest before he offered Lucy one cursory glance. But then, just as his head turned away, he looked back, locking eyes with Lucy once more before his body collided head-on with a waiter holding a pitcher of water.

The ice-cold drink sloshed over the top and dripped all down his shirt. He paused, staring at the puddle on the floor in disbelief. Lucy could already feel her cheeks reddening. Was it all in her head, or did he really get distracted by her?

“Oh!” The blonde woman started. She looked back at Lucy, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Before she could confirm Lucy’s worst fears, Lucy offered a curtsy before hurrying into the gallery, where the auction would take place. It was all in her head. There was nothing a man boasting such rumors would want from her.