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A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online




  A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet

  A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

  BRIDGET BARTON

  Copyright © 2018 by Bridget Barton

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

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  Table of Contents

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  A Charming Lady for the Intriguing Baronet

  Introduction

  If Selina had her way, she would gladly marry a commoner and live out her days in pure happiness. Meeting Alex reinforces her belief that the life that she has dreamt about may be right in front of her. But then she discovers Alex’s true identity! How could she understand the reasons behind his little trickery and be open to explore their powerful connection?

  Alexander Russell, the sixth Baronet of Chesterfield, knows that he bears the heavy duty of producing an heir. Moreover, he is no ignorant to women trying to trap him into marriage, and that only makes him shy away from marrying. Until he meets Selina who is a breath of fresh air! She gives him hope, only to take it away when she rejects him for the very reason that makes him the most eligible bachelor for miles around. Can he convince her that he is “the one” for her?

  Their first encounter was what connected them but also what kept them apart. Even if Selina can't forget, will she be able to forgive Alexander, and finally admit her growing feelings towards him? Can the charming Baronet compensate for a rocky start and earn Selena’s trust so that they can overcome the obstacles and experience this electric connection between them?

  Chapter 1

  Selina believed that there was simply nothing better than solitude and the beauty of nature.

  “I would be quite content to spend my days gazing upon all that is natural about me. I sincerely doubt that even our greatest architects shall be able to effectively emulate the colours, vibrancy and aliveness of nature. That job has solely been left to the artists.”

  She lay on her back, linking her fingers behind her head. There was no one to judge her here; it was just her and the woodland creatures that were curiously peeking out of their nests and burrows, staring at her. Selina had left the well-manicured lawns of the estate to venture farther out, seeking inspiration.

  “None was to be had in the house, not with Mama and Aunt judging my every move. They would surely scold me for the state of my hands and dress!”

  She sat up, turning her hands over and grimacing at the smudge of charcoal.

  “I would not care to be filthy, but Mama does become rather tedious about my level of cleanliness.”

  Her dress had handprints along the front and the sides, offending black smudges that stood out against the light blue of her cotton dress.

  “I suppose my choice of dress has not helped my cause either. However, I am quite sure that Teresa shall remove these stains in a wink of an eye. That woman is an absolute whiz with stains.”

  The laundry maid of the estate had thus far managed to remove every stain that Selina had managed to find during her walks. A quickly-snatched custard from the kitchen was payment enough for the sweet maid. “Ophelia may have met her match in Teresa. They both enjoy an abundance of sweet treats. I do feel somewhat envious of their ability to consume large quantities of sweets and yet retain their slender forms. I need only look at a sweet pastry to find a sudden increase in girth.”

  Selina was by no means large, but she had a pleasant plumpness that could easily tip a scale in the wrong direction if she were not mindful of her dessert intake. The daily walks that she took were helpful in keeping her form within society’s standards.

  “Heaven forbid I should suddenly take on the likeness of a stuffed pig – Mama would be mortified.”

  Her mother certainly meant well, but her eagerness to keep within the accepted rules of social customs was enough to have Selina chomping at the bit. She flopped onto her back once more and admired the clouds in all their misshapen glory. As children, Selina and her sister used to cloud gaze, picking out the different shapes and naming them.

  Ophelia would often see castles, knights in their armour, and even princes on their noble steeds, whereas Selina would see great battles being fought, animals trotting about, and landscapes just waiting to be sketched. Of course, it was all subjective, but it was an enjoyable pastime. Ophelia rarely cloud gazed, as she was more concerned with the fashion, music, and socialising. However, they still spent a significant amount of time together, giggling and conspiring as only sisters can do.

  Selina rolled her head to her left, encountering the gaze of a red deer. She went still, not wanting to startle the woodland creature. The backdrop of the woods framed the deer perfectly; coupled with the rolling sky, there was only one thing that she could do. Selina slowly got up, keeping her eyes on the deer.

  “Do not run away, please.”

  Her sketching materials lay beside her, ready to be picked up and put to work. Selina settled herself into a comfortable position and placed the sketchpad upon her knees, but as her hand met the page, a sudden gunshot echoed throughout the surrounding area, startling the deer and causing it to disappear into the woods behind it.

  “Balderdash! What ill luck! I have half a mind to give those hunters a piece of my mind! When will they let those poor pheasants alone? How many pheasants can one possibly eat?”

  Selina was against hunting for sport, believing it to be futile and savage.

  “Mother Nature has done a splendid job of controlling animal population upon this earth for centuries. Why do humans believe it acceptable and desirable to kill animals? And yet they would seek to imprison poor people who hunt for sustenance. Deplorable behaviour.”

  The deer was gone, but she still needed a study to sketch.

  “Perhaps I shall find something suitable as I return to the house.”

  Selina got to her feet, still disgruntled by the loss of her deer. She had yet to sketch anything that afternoon, and her main aim had been to find inspiration in nature. Selina had already drawn flowers, trees, birds, and the river that ran on the far side of the estate, but today she wished for something else.

  “An emotion, something that says much but does not speak. That deer would have been a most perfect specimen. I would have allowed her eyes to speak, captured the tense stance of her nimble body.”

  But there was nothing for it; she needed to focus her creative flair in another direction. Selina retrieved her sketching material and went in search of something worthy to sketch. Not that the scene about her was not decent, but nothing had communicated with her as the deer had done. She headed back to the house, taking her time as she did so. The country estate was vast, stretching across acres of land that included expansive green lawn, a tailored flower garden that, although beautiful, seemed almost unnatural in its geometric style.

&
nbsp; Selina had noticed that a river ran towards the edge of the country estate, but she had been too far to explore it any further. She had already gone farther than expected by that point, and evening had been fast approaching. But tomorrow she intended to go down and hopefully be inspired by the river. Selina stopped her slow walk back to the house to flip through the pages of her sketchbook, admiring her own handiwork. Not that she was prideful of her work for she was a modest young woman, but not even she could deny that her eye for detail did make for a vivid picture.

  The sketches seemed almost alive as if she could reach out and touch them, feeling the smoothness of a petal or the warmth of an animal. She resumed her walking, pondering upon her works. Selina may not be accomplished in the areas that matter to her mother, but she had the ability to bring a mere sketch to life. That mattered more to her than the sweetest of singing voices, the nimblest of fingers upon a piano, and a graceful poise during a dance. Ophelia was more so gifted in these areas, but Selina did not begrudge her sister anything.

  “Rather her than me. I would much rather be out in the open than behind closed doors, pandering to the gentry as they survey me with critical eyes.”

  Her belly grumbled, alerting her to the fact that she had last eaten breakfast many hours earlier. However, she had no intention of returning to the house just yet.

  “Perhaps a few apples from the orchard shall settle my hunger pangs. But I must take care not to be noticed by Mama, or she will demand that I enter the house and take up a more suitable pastime, such as writing letters to my dreadful cousins.”

  And they indeed were dreadful beings. Selina’s father had a brother with four children, two of whom were close in age to her. They just happened to be two girls who had a penchant for bullying her, especially in their schoolroom days. Susan and Martha possessed a mean streak that they revealed to a select few people, and by that she meant herself. The sisters were two years apart, with Susan being the eldest of the two as well as the ringleader to all her bullying.

  Selina, always being the shorter one of the family, remembered being tied to trees and left alone, chairs being pulled out from under her as she meant to sit down, her clothing mysteriously turning up with holes, and of course, that would earn her a scolding from her mother. Now that they were older, their taunts had taken on the form of cleverly-crafted comments that cut to the quick. Many of their comments were a dig at her red hair and the light smattering of freckles across her nose.

  “Although I do gather that they will see fit to torment me with unbridled hatred.”

  They had all attended the Season together, and lo and behold, Selina’s combination of alabaster skin, Titan hair, and emerald green eyes had been a success. Suitors had been clamouring to speak with her, and her cousins had been livid. Long had they drummed into Selina that her appearance was no match for their more conventional brunette hair and peachy skin. English roses, they called themselves, while Selina was compared to a prickly thorn. Imagine their surprise when she turned out to be a success. However, they should not have become angry as Selina’s popularity had soon waned when the suitors discovered her intelligence, as well as her open manner of using it in conversation.

  An Englishman did not want a wife with a voice of her own; neither did they want a wife whose intelligence surpassed their own. As a result, Susan and Martha had returned with marriage proposals, while Selina had none. However, this did nothing to assuage their anger, as the very men they were engaged to had done nothing but cling to Selina’s company at first, before moving onto them when they realised that she was not what they wanted. Selina was secretly pleased to have not made a match, despite her mother’s fretful cries. She had no wish to be matched to a pompous Englishman, especially not the sort that enjoyed the company of her insipid cousins.

  “Good day, Miss Seymour. I take it that you have been for a walk?”

  Selina stopped in her tracks, turning to greet the young scullery maid.

  “Good day, Agnes. Yes, I was seeking inspiration from the land.”

  Agnes looked at her smudged hands and dress, grinning.

  “I take it that you found some?”

  Selina had drawn a few flowers and leaves, but they had not been what she was looking for. The deer would have been a perfect specimen, but of course, her plan had been foiled by hunters.

  “Not what I was looking for. I am still searching.”

  Selina only just noticed the basket of apples resting on the girl’s hips. I hope that she has not picked all the ripe apples!

  “Does Mrs Albermale intend to make apple pie?”

  “Yes, some will be turned into pie, but the Mistress wants applesauce for the roast suckling pig that Mrs Albermale will be making for dinner tomorrow.”

  Selina pulled her face. “I take it that one of the piglets that I had petted just this morning shall become my dinner tomorrow?”

  The maid chuckled. “I shall leave it there, Miss. I must be going, or Mrs Albermale will have my head.”

  The estate cook loathed to be kept waiting, which was perfectly understandable. Anyone would be impatient when there were several hungry mouths to feed, all of a discerning palate, or rather, said discerning palate. Selina believed that her family tended to put on unnecessary airs in certain company, which could be amusing at times.

  Agnes returned to the house while Selina continued to the orchard, meeting a few other servants along the way. The country estate was always buzzing with activity and only truly settled near midnight. Several times Selina had crept downstairs well after dinner, hoping to find a good book to sink into bed with, and would see a few servants milling about, usually putting things into order ready for the next day or extinguishing a few lamps on their way to their own servants’ quarters. Selina would sometimes stop to chat with them, but if they looked rather weary, then she would quietly pass them by, carrying her own lamp into the library.

  The orchard came into view, and Selina was relieved to see that the trees were plentiful and the apples low enough to reach. Her day dress had pockets, something that she had insisted upon with their seamstress. She placed her sketching materials upon a flat rock and stuffed her pockets with as many apples as possible, intending to give some to the farm animals. Selina decided to steer clear of the pig pen–she was afraid that she would recognise the suckling pig that would grace the dinner table the next evening.

  “I shall stick to the stables and avert my eyes as I pass the pigsty.”

  Which was what she did. The only thing that she could not ignore was the stench as she passed the sty, but as soon as she was some feet away, she could breathe easy.

  “I do love suckling pig, but I prefer not to know the source. There is nothing as terrible as greeting an animal the day before, only to find said animal on my plate for dinner. It is unsettling, to say the least.”

  Selina spotted the stable groom, bringing a quick smile to her face.

  “Isaac! Mrs Albermale has informed me that you are a new father! I am so pleased for you and Lydia.”

  The stable groom smiled. “Ye, me wife had a set of twins, she did, Miss Seymour. The Mistress has given me the weekend off to spend time with me wife and babies. Samuel will take care of the horses then.”

  “That is wonderful, it truly is, Isaac. They are both boys, are they not?”

  “Ye, two sweet, squawling babes that keep their mum up half the night. Never thought I’d have any, but the Lord is good.”

  “That He is, Isaac. Would you mind if I give Prancer and Osiris these apples? I know that they are partial to them.”

  Isaac nodded. “Of course, Miss Seymour. Just do not let the other horses see, or they might be jealous.”

  Selina laughed, finding the notion of the horses being jealous quite comical.

  “I shall ensure that they both eat their apples in secret, but I cannot control what they may speak of once I leave their presence.”

  Isaac looked perplexed for a moment, which made her laugh that much har
der. Understanding dawned, and he let rip a whopper of a laugh, his guffaws loud and gay.

 

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