An Arrangement of Sorts Read online

  by

  Rebecca Connolly

  Also from

  Phase Publishing

  by

  Lady Jane Davis

  The Original Pink Collar Workers

  by

  Christopher Bailey

  Without Chance

  Coming Soon

  by Rebecca Connolly:

  Married to the Marquess

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped” book.

  Text copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Connolly

  Cover art copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Connolly

  Cover art by Tugboat Design

  http://www.tugboatdesign.net

  All rights reserved. Published by Phase Publishing, LLC. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

  Phase Publishing, LLC first paperback edition

  June 2015

  ISBN 978-1-943048-01-4

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015942610

  Cataloging-in-Publication Data on file.

  Acknowledgements

  To Baga for being the most influential reason I became a bookworm years and years ago, teaching me all about Jane Austen and starting me on my love for all things British (and introducing me to the magic of Colin Firth), fostering my creativity from day one, and encouraging me every step of the way. I love you!

  And to Stephen’s Gourmet Hot Cocoa. You are a magnificent gift to the world and I am a devoted admirer for the rest of my days.

  There are so many people to acknowledge for bringing this book to life. Christopher Bailey and his team at Phase Publishing for seeing something worth pursuing in my work and giving my dreams a chance. Deborah Bradseth of Tugboat Design for bringing my vision to life in the cover art. Sarah Connolly for the fantastic pictures (and the fantastic price!) and for working on them while gallivanting across Europe. Caity, Whitney, Lori, Lisa, and Jenny for their support, reading, input, and not thinking I’m crazy… or at least not telling me so.

  To my family, you are the best. You’re all crazy. I love you. Don’t change. I like being this lucky.

  And my personal Three Musketeers. Steph, Alicia, and Whitney, you gals have been with me every step of the way. Thank you forever for reading and re-reading (and re-reading again…), editing, brainstorming, enduring my rambling ideas, talking me out of my freak-outs, and seeing this insanity through to the very end. Thanks for the playlists, the pins, the inspirational pics, letting me know it’s okay to have cupcakes for breakfast because they’re really just muffins… I’d be lost without each of you. Seriously. Let’s be friends, ‘kay?

  Index

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Hampshire, 1818

  “I must confess, my lord, it was quite a shock to see you dressed like this today.”

  Nathaniel Hammond smiled and glanced over at the older man working beside him. “Really, Jameson? And how should I have come dressed to work? In my eveningwear?”

  The old man returned his grin and shrugged. “Well, yes, I expected your finery, my lord. It is the usual apparel of a gentleman.”

  A snort escaped Nathan and he shook his head. “Nothing usual about hard labor in such things. Didn’t I say I would help you with your repairs?”

  “Yes, my lord, but I hardly expected you to come dressed in plain clothes, or that you would bring your own supplies, or that you would bring volunteers.”

  Nathan chuckled and went back to his work. “My friends are good men, Mr. Jameson, and they came of their own accord, ready to work as any man. Fortune and title have no place up here.”

  “Hear, hear,” softly called the oldest of the Jameson sons, working steadily behind him.

  His father threw him a cheerful smile, then looked at Nathan again with steady eyes. “You are a hard worker, my lord.”

  There could be no question but the man was impressed, and Nathan was humbled by it. “Thank you.”

  Jameson suddenly laughed. “If someone had ever told me that I would have the Earl of Beverton on my roof making repairs, I would have carted them off to asylum!”

  The three men laughed and Nathan clamped a hand on his tenant’s shoulder. “This particular Earl of Beverton will always be at hand to help those he can, whether it be on a roof, in a field, or a crowded London ballroom.”

  “Bet you prefer the roof to that ballroom, eh, my lord?” suggested the son with a knowing laugh.

  Nathan had to laugh again and nodded. “Absolutely, Elliot. Absolutely.”

  As he helped the Jamesons place the final patches on the roof of their too-small cottage, he wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed, looking out on the land that had only recently become his. The area was poor and had suffered much, and would require much rebuilding, both of homes and of trust. The late earl, his uncle, had been a decent man, but had long since lost interest in his tenants and his estate in favor of an ignorant solitude.

  Now, Nathan hoped, things would be different. He had spent as much of his time as he could among his tenants, learning about them and from them, discovering their expectations and their needs. He wanted to know everything he could about them, for them to see him as the new earl, and trust him with their care. He could do no less.

  “Nate!”

  He shook himself from his reflections and looked down where his friends, as dirty and sweaty as he was, stood looking up at him.

  “Thorn says he insists we all take some refreshment at the Horse and Rider, just up the road. If you’ve finished with the Jamesons’ roof, he is up there waiting for us.” Colin Gerrard spoke for the assembled group, as usual, and was the only one who didn’t look the least bit winded.

  Nathan looked over at Mr. Jameson and Elliot. The elder man smiled and nodded at him. “We’re finished for the day, my lord. Thank you for your help.”

  He inclined his head and reached a hand out. “Any time, Jameson. I am at your service. Please give my regards to your wife.”

  “I will, my lord, thank you.”

  Nathan shook his hand, then made his way down to his friends. It was a short walk to The Horse and Rider, and before long they were all seated around a sturdy table with tankards in front of them. Thorn, another tenant, was the proprietor of the establishment, and from all appearances, it was a fine, well-kept pub and the drinks were as good as any to be found in London.

  “Ah,” the man to Nathan’s left sighed as he drank deeply. “That is good stuff. Remind me to visit you often, Nate.”

  He snorted and quirked a brow. “I don’t recall inviting you back, Duncan.”

  Duncan shrugged his broad shoulders easily, as was his nature. “I am rarely invited anywhere. Doesn’t mean I don’t go.”

  “Now, isn’t that
the truth?” Colin crowed with a laugh from Nathan’s right. “I remember distinctly the time when Lady Sutherton very publicly forbade any man by the name of Duncan Bray to ever set foot in her gardens again, and not ten minutes later, there he was! And in her fountain no less!”

  “Oh, please!” Duncan protested over the good-natured chuckles from the table. “I was fourteen!”

  “And more than slightly rebellious, as I recall,” came the amused voice of Geoffrey Harris, directly across from Nathan.

  Duncan leveled a glare at him. “You are the one who pushed me in that fountain, Geoff, and don’t bother to deny it.”

  He held up his hands and shook his head. “No one ever proved that. Mary Hamilton swore that she saw me in town with my mother at exactly the moment you were found dripping wet in Lady Sutherton’s fountain.”

  “Only because you paid her, Geoff, and rather exorbitantly, at that,” the last companion, Derek Chambers, Marquess of Whitlock, chimed in, leaning back in his chair for another long drink.

  Geoffrey’s jaw dropped, and his blue eyes widened. “How did you know that? Nobody knows that!”

  “Everybody knows that,” Nathan assured him with a consoling smile.

  Geoffrey buried his face in his hands. “All this time I thought Mary kept that a secret.”

  Derek eyed his tankard and spoke easily, as if his words meant nothing. “She did…” he began, his lips curving into a grin and successfully gaining the attention of everyone at the table. He paused for effect, and then continued, “…until my sister managed to extract that particular bit of information from her one night about ten years ago. And you all know that Diana cannot keep anything from me, so, needless to say, I have known ever since.”

  “Your sister should work for the Bow Street Runners, Derek,” Duncan crowed with a laugh, saluting him.

  “She married one, which seems close enough,” Derek pointed out, receiving nods all around.

  “So, your mighty Earlship,” Colin broke in, giving Nathan a wry grin. “How do you like your new home and when should we start calling you Lord Beverton?”

  He shuddered. “Never, if you please. But the lands and people show great promise, and I think we have made some fine advances towards healing injuries my uncle might have caused.”

  “I would agree with you there,” Duncan said with a nod. “Especially with the manual labor you have had us all employed in, and dressed in such plain clothing!” He sniffed at himself and winced. “I think that my aunt would be ashamed of us all, could she see us as we are now. ‘Fine gentlemen in the shoddy clothing of commoners, what will the kingdom come to?’ Cannot say I would disagree entirely with her on that point. I look like a farmer.”

  “You can work in your finery if you want, Duncan, but I prefer to wear it as little as possible. Saves me the cost of a tailor,” Colin retorted with a laugh. “Besides, I think we all know some very fine farmers. And if no one else noticed, there is a quite charming looking maiden a few houses down who was mending some shirts quite remarkably like the ones we wear now. I’m of a mind to pay her a visit before the week is out.”

  “Don’t start trouble in my earldom, Colin,” Nathan warned, smiling. “I have just gotten people to start liking me, I don’t need you proving their fears aright.”

  Colin laughed again, grinning cheekily. “Very well, but she may mend my clothing yet, you know. I have no need of a wealthy wife.”

  “Nor I, but modesty and decorum would be appreciated all the same.”

  “Well, Nate, your new and appallingly large fortune should prove quite useful to you now, I should think,” Geoff suggested, bringing them back to topic. “Your own estate, for one, needs some attention.”

  He shook his head, recalling his first impression of the ancient Beverton House in all its decline. “Years’ worth, I should think. It might be better just to pull the whole thing down and build a new one.”

  Four voices cried out with varying opinions on what to do with the place, but none of their words reached his ears as his eyes caught sight of something far more interesting. A young woman with hair the color of copper, which was fast unraveling from its no doubt once-intricate style, had entered the pub. She seemed to be searching for someone, though he had no idea whom a woman such as she would hope to find in a place like this. As she scanned her surroundings, he glimpsed a pair of bright sapphire eyes that intrigued him almost as much as the determined set of her very fine jaw.

  He was just about to begin his not-so-subtle examination of her person when those blue eyes landed on him, freezing him on the spot. And then, as if she knew his simultaneous fears and desires, she marched over towards him. In the same instant, all conversation surrounding him ceased.

  “I am looking for Nathaniel Hammond,” she announced in a crisp voice that he instantly liked, along with all else he could see of her from his seat.

  She quirked a brow at the lack of response, and he realized with a jolt of embarrassment that he had not managed to answer.

  “He’s the attractive, silent bloke staring at you,” Colin chimed in with a grin.

  She flicked her piercing eyes to him. “So everyone but you then? Marvelous.”

  Colin’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth clamped shut, a glower forming, but smiles grew on every other face.

  Nathan stood and inclined his head. “I am Nathaniel Hammond, Miss…?”

  “Dennison. Moira Dennison. You can sit back down,” she told him, her eyes raking over him with apparent distaste. “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Hammond, and I would appreciate being heard out before you make a decision.”

  Slowly, Nathan sank back into his seat, not entirely certain if he ought to be offended or amused, but he was leaning more towards the latter, against his own will and better judgment.

  “I am looking for my intended, Mr. Hammond. Charles Allenford. He has not been heard from in over a year and I refuse to wait for someone else to find him and bring me word. I was given your name by an only moderately reliable source I happened across as I left my home in Gillam, and he assured me that if someone needed to be found, you were the man to do it. Therefore, I have sought you out to ask if you would accompany me and assist in finding Charles and seeing us back home to Gillam in safety.” Her words came out in a rush, as if she couldn’t wait to finish them, but one look at her proved she was set on her course, regardless of what anyone said or thought.

  Nathan sat back in his seat, considering this woman and her outrageous offer. Accompany a young, single woman without any life experience outside of a dance hall across who knew how many miles to search out her so-called intended, reunite the lovers, and then see them safely returned to their presumably happy existence? It was madness.

  “I would pay you handsomely, Mr. Hammond,” she said with a firm nod, all business despite the ridiculous nature of her venture. “Of that you can be assured. It would be enough to allow you a comfortable life for the rest of your days.”

  He highly doubted that. Obviously, Miss Dennison had no idea who he was. All the better for him.

  “It may take us some time to locate Charles, and though I know little of you, I have every confidence in your abilities. I have heard rumors of your bravery in the army, so I know that you are not one to shrink in the face of danger, which is encouraging, as I have no idea what we shall be up against.” She paused only to take a breath, and then went on. “As you can see, I am quite determined and will not allow the slightest obstacle to deter me. I will not be condescended to, dictated to, pitied, persuaded, brought down, set aside, or left out. I do hope I have made myself clear.”

  Yes, rather clear, indeed. Nathan could not have spoken should he have wished to. This was truly the most bizarre situation he had ever been in, and that was saying a great deal.

  “I shall give you ten minutes to decide, Mr. Hammond, and then I shall go elsewhere.” She swept from the room with a slight toss of her hair, leaving the entire table of men stunned in her wake.

  “H
oly…” Colin breathed, unable to complete the sentence.

  “Mister?” Derek offered with a snort. “Impertinent thing. If I had a coherent thought in my head, I’d have set her straight, believe you me.”

  “Nate,” Geoff broke in, leaning forward, “are you mad?”

  He shrugged and heaved a deep sigh. “I know. I cannot leave, not when I just took over the earldom. There is far too much work to be done.”

  The entire table was silent, staring at him. “He is mad,” Duncan insisted, looking at the others.

  “Absolutely mental,” Colin agreed.

  “Daft as a duck,” Derek said, nodding sagely.

  “What? Why?” Nathan asked looking back and forth between his friends.

  “Because you are thinking about not going,” Geoff retorted, leaning back. “That breathtaking woman is everything you’ve ever wanted, and you’re letting her believe you need time to think? Please.”

  “Seriously, Nathan, if it were me, I would have said yes long before she started her rant.” Colin shook his head, looking appalled.

  His friends were, yet again, making no sense. He looked around at them. “But she wants me to help her find her intended! It wouldn’t matter if she were Aphrodite, I still would balk.”

  “That's no object. No ring means fair game,” Geoff said, waving it off.

  “Sometimes even then it is still fair game, depending on the woman,” Derek chimed in quietly. The table stilled, and he looked up to find them all staring at him with varying levels of disgust. He hastily brought his hands up in surrender. “I don’t condone it! I am only stating the fact that marriage, to some, is not as morally binding as it is to others.”