The Lost Love of a Stunning Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online

  “Oh? I wonder who it could be. I’ve heard of no families looking to buy. I had no idea the Talbots were selling. It must have been done through a bank.”

  Marie Beauvarlet Hancock liked to think she was up-to-date on gossip. Any gossip. But it was the scandalous tales of the haut ton that she relished, reading the papers each morning to decide who was who and what was what.

  Her indulgence was curious due to the fact that whoever was moving into the house down the road would not interest those from the lofty echelons of high society in the least. No one from the fashionable set would give whoever was moving into Jermyn Street a second thought. In fact, they most likely wouldn’t give a thought at all. The Talbot house, as well as the Hancocks’ modest abode, were quite simply, in the wrong part of town.

  “I’m sure I don’t know who the family is, Madame. I’ll try to find out what I can. Will you be needing anything more at the moment?”

  “No, thank you. Run along, Mrs Gauthier. You … you’ll be sure to let me know if you come into any information about our new neighbours.”

  “Oui. Of course, Madame.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Gauthier. Find out if there are any sons, perchance,

  will you?”

  “Maman!” Mimi frowned at her mother.

  Since returning home from the seaside, Mrs Hancock had seemed to be on a never-ending quest to find a suitor for her daughter. A rich suitor.

  “What is wrong, Mimi? You’re going to be nineteen years old in five months, mon ange. It’s not too young to start thinking about a beau.”

  “Well, I’ll thank you to let me find my own, please. I cannot legally marry until I’m twenty-one, at least.”

  “Or if your father and I should give our permission before that happy anniversary of your birth.” Marie smiled at her daughter. “If the new family down the street has a son, I shall invite them for dinner and cards. It will be lovely. A dinner party! We’ve had virtually no entertainment this month since we’ve been back from Cromer. And we missed our whist partners of the summer while we were there this year. They were a lovely family. I was sorry not to see them again. Why did we not keep in touch?”

  “We’d arrived at Cromer a week before them. Then we left a week before them, Maman.”

  “I suppose we reckoned we’d see each other again. I wonder why they didn’t come this year. What was their name? Hmm. For the life of me, I cannot think of it.”

  “Warren, Maman, I believe it was Warren.”

  “Warren. Yes, that was it. Warren.”

  *******

  “Well, Warren, that about finishes it up. One more signature, here.” Joseph Hancock shook the elder Mr Richard Warren’s hand, and then held up his glass of claret to toast his new business partner.

  “Wonderful, Hancock. I feel mighty good about this merger. I have complete faith in you and your abilities. I think we’re going to make beautiful music together, so to speak.” Warren was grinning ear to ear.

  The two men were about to embark on a journey together. A journey that Joseph Hancock had been, actively and seriously planning for a few years and dreaming about for many. When he’d met Richard Warren a year and a half prior at the seaside in Cromer, he’d known immediately that this was the man he needed to assist him in making his vision a reality. This was the man he wanted to join him in setting up his new vocation as a London banker.

  Of course, Hancock’s plans would cause the relocation of Richard Warren and his family from Cambridge to London. But Hancock felt confident that he could make that relocation worth the while of the Warrens.

  For the last year, Hancock and Warren had been communicating by letter and in person. Hancock would go up to Cambridge, and Warren would go down to London. And it had all finally been realised. Warren Hancock and Company was about to be born, and Hancock was feeling like a fat cat. He’d long had a mind to move up the ladder of society in his home town of London. As it was, at the age of forty, he’d done exceedingly well for the third son and seventh child of a butcher. But, his aim was to do even better. Much better. He planned on one day becoming landed gentry.

  “I insist you and your family join me and mine for dinner this evening, Warren. Followed by cards if my wife has her way.” Hancock chuckled.

  “Lavinia is looking forward to many evenings of recreation, now that we will be just two doors away from you. This will be a lovely holiday season, indeed. We’re still staying at Grenier’s while the curtains, rugs, furnishings and other things are moved into the house. The servants will need a few days to ready things, but I will take you up on your delightful offer of dinner this evening, my friend.”

  “Yes, and the big surprise is I haven’t told Marie about any of this. I will let on when I get home that I have a new business partner coming to dine with us. Then you, Lavinia, and the boys come in.” He smiled and chuckled again.

  “Alas, I’m afraid George won’t make it. He took his little Ellen up to Gretna Green almost as soon as we’d returned to Cambridge from the sea last year. The girl was just seventeen at the time. Of course, I would have given the young couple my permission to wed, as would Ellen’s father have. But, the young people wanted the excitement of an elopement, even if it wasn’t quite a secret. And it was nowhere near to a surprise when their note was discovered.” Warren chuckled at the recollection.

  “As you might guess, Ellen’s family are all in Cambridge and have no intention of changing their location. My daughter-in-law is now with child. My son wishes to continue his law studies, then live and practice in Cambridge. The happy couple resides on my property there and plan to raise their family there. The house would have gone to him anyway, so why not now, said I.

  “George sounds to be a good planner and quite an ambitious young man. You do have young Richard with you, do you not? How old is the lad now?”

  “Yes, Richard has come to London with his mother and me. He’s to turn nineteen next month. He’ll be accompanying my wife and me to your home this evening.”

  “Splendid. Splendid. And what are the young Richard’s future plans?”

  “He will become a barrister in time like his brother.”

  “Very good. You and your wife have done well.”

  “As have you and yours, Hancock.”

  “I cannot lie, Warren. My daughter is the apple of my eye. I tend to spoil her. I cannot help myself.”

  “She’s a lovely girl. If that’s what spoiling does, keep on it, Hancock.”

  “Marie and I are quite proud of our Mimi. She’s a very kind young lady. Compassionate.”

  “I’ve noticed. Her kindness is evident when one speaks to her. She puts others ahead of herself. She’s quite a thoughtful young lady.”

  “Thank you, Warren. I could not have put it in a better light than that.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  “Well, my man.” Hancock brought the conversation back to business with the tone of his voice, “We will see you and your family at five o’clock.”

  “Yes, indeed, you will.”

  The two men shook hands and parted ways.

  Chapter 2

  “Giselle!” Marie burst into Mimi’s bedchamber. Giselle was attempting to tame Mimi’s wild curls with the curl iron.

  “Maman, what is it?” Mimi turned quickly barely avoiding getting a burn near her temporal.

  “Giselle, is she almost done?” Marie Hancock had always had the habit of talking about her only child as if she were a cake of some sort.

  “Oui, elle y est, Madame.”

  “Very good. The new family down the road is having their belongings moved into the Talbot house today. And they are coming here for dinner. Tonight!” Marie threw her hands over her head. “They have a seventeen, almost eighteen-year-old son. They have a nineteen-year-old as well. Pity but the older boy has visited Gretna Green and is waiting for the first of his children due to be born any day now. We, or Mimi rather, appears to have been left with the second son. But no matter. We’ll make do.�
��

  “What do you mean we’ll make do? Maman?” Mimi was forever chagrined by her mother’s constant scheming.

  Mimi, your father is going into business with our new neighbour. Isn’t it wonderful? Your dear papa is finally to realise one of his life’s dreams.” Marie clasped her hands in front of her bosom and gazed off into some distant or future reverie with misty eyes.

  “Both men have goldsmith backgrounds. It would only follow that opening a bank could prove quite lucrative for them. There is so much to do. It is an exciting time.”

  Marie looked at the clock on the mantel. “Dear, dear, it’s already three thirty. Hurry now. The guests will be here before five. Mimi, wear your rose silk. It suits you so well, mon petit chou. And Mrs Gauthier was able to mend the tiny rent near the back hem, where you caught it stepping out of the carriage. Remember?”

  Mimi looked at Giselle and rolled her eyes. “Yes, Maman.”

  “You cannot even tell it’s been mended. Now, go. And mind you come straight down to the salon when you’re dressed. It would be nice if you were practising on the pianoforte when the guests arrive.” She nodded her head. “Yes, that would be very nice. Very nice indeed.”

  *******

  Mimi did as she was told, and at four thirty, as the dinner guests arrived, she was playing the lovely new piano sonata by Beethoven on the pianoforte in the drawing room. Marie insisted on referring to the drawing room as the salon, thereby embarrassing Mimi with her pretension.

  Mimi had only gotten the music two weeks prior, but she played the piece quite well, and Les Adieux came to life under her skilled fingers. She turned her head towards the door of the drawing room when she heard the new friends of the family coming in, expressing salutations and handing their cloaks to Jones, the butler.

  The voices in the lower hallway were happy and laughing. And somehow familiar. Mimi heard them getting closer to the drawing room entrance. Then her hands slipped on the keyboard, ending the music on a discord as the first of the guests entered the room.

  “Mimi?”

  She half stood from the piano bench as her new neighbour paused, rooted in the doorway, even as she wished him to dash across the room to her.

  “Mimi!”

  “Richard!

  They held still then, staring at each other, the happy voices floating up the stairs and the expanse of the drawing room between them. Mimi was ensnared in his gaze. “You didn’t go to Cromer this past summer. I thought I’d never see you again,” she said softly.

  “I know. I felt the same way. I looked forward all last winter to see you again in the summer. But Mother was unwell, unable even to travel to the seaside. It would have done her the world of good to get the bracing salt air, but the doctor said she was not to be moved.”

  “I’m so sorry. How is Mrs Warren feeling now?”

  “She’s quite recovered now. She’s been feeling grand. And, you know, our fathers have been talking all the time we’ve been apart.”

  “I, I didn’t know.” Mimi couldn’t take her eyes from Richard’s.

  “They’ve been discussing forming a partnership. It has now come to be. Our fathers are business partners, and you and I will be neighbours.” He grinned broadly, clearly happy with the arrangement,

  Mimi said nothing. Her mouth felt dry, and her hands were moist with sweat. She could feel her heart pounding, and a flood of unidentified emotion washed through her being. She wondered how Richard had known of her father’s plans when she, herself, had not.

  “When you left Cromer last year, Mimi, I missed you a great deal. I wanted to see you again. I planned on it. But then my family was forced to stay in Cambridge. There was no way for me to contact you, short of coming to London, but I was away. Academy, you know? I wanted to write you, but I had no permission from you to speak to your father about it. I reckoned that when I saw you again you’d have a beau. But I never forgot about you, Mimi. That I can promise you.”

  Mimi looked down and then up at him from under the fringe of her inky dark eyelashes. Richard was more handsome than she’d remembered. Almost eighteen, he’d grown taller, his shoulders had broadened, and it was clear he now shaved his face. He looked like a young man. He was no longer the boy she’d met by the sea. No longer the boy she’d played pirates and damsels with. No longer the boy she’d raced against across the sand. Again she felt a wash of unfamiliar emotions flow through her. Her knees trembled.

  “I have no beau,” she supplied abruptly.

  “Oh, that’s splendid. I mean, I’m happy I shall be able to see you again. I will call on you. I mean, if you agree.”

  “Of course I agree. We have an entire holiday season to weather.” Mimi laughed. The old, youthful familiarity between the two had been re-established.

  “I hope that I may accompany you in a dance or two at one of the local holiday soirees.” Richard grinned. “I will speak directly to Mr Hancock after dinner. Is, is that to your liking?”

  He remembered himself then, and the fact that he was about to enter into an agreement with Mimi. Once he spoke to Mr Hancock and was given permission to court her, it would be only a matter of time until he would be expected to make her his wife. He’d had a year and a half to consider it. And wedding Mimi was what his heart desired. He was sure he wanted to enter into that pecuniary state with her and had been making plans for it and saving as much of his monthly annuity as possible.

  “We’ll see about that young Mr Warren.” Marie breezed around him and into the drawing room, smiling woodenly. “There are many young men in London who have expressed interest in courting my daughter. Alas, they have all been second sons. Except for one.” The ostrich plumes in her hair bobbed and waved as she spoke and moved.

  Mimi lowered back down to the pianoforte bench, her brief excitement doused by her mother’s ambition.

  Richard bowed. “Madame Hancock.” He then stated his intentions to ask Mimi for a dance at any holiday party he should find her. And he asked permission to do so, informing the lady that he would take the matter up with Mimi’s father after their meal. And he said it all in perfect French.

  Marie hesitated, taken aback by Richard’s use of her native language, but recovered quickly telling him, in English, that she would decide the intentions of any young gentleman her daughter might dance with. There was no need to take it to Mr Warren as he would follow his wife’s lead when it came to guaranteeing Mimi’s welfare.

  “Maman! Please! Don’t be that way. It’s not as if Richard is asking to marry me!” Mimi tried to sound light and jovial. She smiled to add emphasis to the lightness she hoped to convey.

  Marie laughed. “Let’s hope not.” She took a seat on the sofa just as the others entered the drawing room.

  Mimi looked at Richard, her eyes glued to his. She didn’t want to lose him again, but she’d been all too aware since the age of twelve that her mother had done her absolute best to groom Mimi to marry a rich man. And not any rich man. A very rich man. A gentleman of the haut ton. Someone with a title.

  To accomplish her goal, Marie appeared to have no issue with letting future suitors know her intentions. She would have her daughter dance with Marquesses, Earls, and Dukes, and that was the end of it.

  Mimi was also aware that her mother’s main design for the coming London season was to procure a voucher for her daughter to the Wednesday night balls at Almack’s Assembly Rooms.

  When it came down to it, Mimi had been told, since childhood, that whatever she might lack in breeding and financial backing, she more than made up for in grace, tact, intelligence, and beauty. She knew her mother intended to see her use her charms on wealthy gentlemen of the peerage. Not waste them on the second son of a tradesman.

  *******

  Six months later, after a holiday season of dancing and dining and secret, furtive glances, Mimi and Richard had spent a great deal of time together, albeit with their parents or a servant overseeing them, but they certainly were courting. At least they thought so. Marie kept
a close watch on the two young people. It would not do to have them fall in love. That would throw a damper over all her well thought out plans. But she had to accept the friendship the two shared, if not for them then for her husband and his business.

  As it was, Marie allowed Richard and Mimi to see each other once a week, but never on Wednesday evenings when Mimi was obliged to attend the soirees at Almack’s as an unattached young lady.

  Mimi had not the faintest notion of how her mother had attained the coveted voucher to Almack’s Assembly Rooms. But attain it, Marie had. And each week, Mimi was paraded in front of an assembly of first sons of the peerage. All manner of Lord This and Lord That were presented to her as well as the crème de la crème of the titled peerage, the two available Dukes in London. If Mister preceded any man’s name, Marie was sure to steer her daughter in the other direction towards a titled gentleman.