Four Calling Cards

  Four Calling Cards

  by Tabetha Waite

  Copyright © 2020 Tabetha Waite

  Cover Art Design by The Midnight Muse

  Edward Castleford, Viscount Rundell, was on the bride hunt. While he has never spurned romance, he has yet to find someone who fills his life with happiness. It isn’t until his father gives him an ultimatum - take a wife or get cut off without a cent – does he have to make a difficult, and rather quick, decision. By the time the Earl of Vellerman returns from Bath, taking the waters in a final attempt to restore his failing health, he expects to hear of an engagement upon his return. Thus, Edward has narrowed down his choices to four amiable prospects…

  Miss Sabrina Everhart is the companion of the Countess of Warably, but she feels like more of a servant. She is the lady’s poor, orphan relation who has become more of a charity case than a woman of proper age who might be allowed to join the marriage mart. However, just as she’s nearly become resigned to the fact she will remain as nothing but a plain wallflower, she suddenly starts to receive the attentions of Viscount Rundell. But what could a plain, penniless lady possibly offer such a handsome bachelor?

  Also by Tabetha Waite

  Ways of Love Historical Romance Series

  How it All Began for the Baron (Christmas prequel novella)

  Why the Earl is After the Girl (Book 1)

  Where the Viscount Met His Match (Book 2)

  When a Duke Pursues a Lady (Book 3)

  Who the Marquess Dares to Desire (Book 4)

  What a Gentleman Does for Love (Book 5)

  Season of the Spinster Series

  Triana’s Spring Seduction (Book 1)

  Isabella’s Secret Summer (Book 2)

  Alyssa’s Autumn Affair (Book 3)

  Korina’s Wild Winter (Book 4)

  Novellas

  Twelve Gifts by Christmas

  Lord Castleford’s Fortunate Folly (Fortunes of Fate #1)

  A Lady’s Guide to Marriage

  A Promise Beneath the Kissing Bough

  Miss Pageant’s Christmas Proposal

  The Scot’s Bairn

  Novels

  Behind a Moonlit Veil

  The Secrets of Shadows

  The Piper’s Paramour

  Anthologies

  Heyer Society (non-fiction essays)

  Rogues On My Mind (Regency)

  Some Wallflowers Do (Regency)

  The Young and the Ruined

  Short Stories

  Love’s Frozen Kiss

  Love Out of the Ashes

  The Magic Shield

  The Journey Toward Hope

  Thistles & War

  Four Calling Cards

  Dedication

  For Christina McKnight, who was kind enough to recommend me for this fun project. I finally get the chance to give Lord Castleford’s brother his happily ever after.

  Chapter One

  London, England

  December 1818

  Edward stared at the four calling cards on the desk in front of him with a frown. Each one of them had a different name on the front with their expected dowries written on the back. But it was what these ladies represented that caused his cravat to feel as though it was tied a little bit too tight. They were all bridal candidates that his father had personally chosen before he’d left the city for Bath to take the waters for his ailing health.

  Naturally, at two and thirty, Edward Castleford, Viscount Rundell, was old enough to make decisions for himself, but the Earl of Vellerman wasn’t taking any chances when it came to his future heirs. The man was boisterous and made no secret as to his opinions, many of which had injured his relationship with his youngest son, Jonathan. At least Edward’s brother was spared from any further interference, for he was perfectly content in Cornwall with his wife, Fanny, and their daughter. And according to his last letter, there was another child on the way.

  Many times Edward had wished the same happiness for himself, but not in this hasty manner. How could one even fall in love in the matter of a fortnight? It was an impossible task, but his father had been adamant when he’d left. He’d slammed his cane down on the floor and demanded an engagement announcement upon his return or he would cut Edward off without a cent.

  While Edward had yearned to tell his sire to sod off, unfortunately, he depended on that stipend for the upkeep at his estate and to pay his staff. So he had no choice but to choose one of these women that the earl had set before him.

  He cleared his throat and picked up the first card. Lady Eunice Gladstone.

  He couldn’t hold back a wince. Would it even be possible to call out her name in the heat of passion?

  He moved on to the second — and snorted. Miss Elizabeth Tolson. An American heiress. Of course. His father claimed to detest those “ungrateful colonials,” traitors to the Crown, and yet, he didn’t mind adding their money to his coffers.

  The third card read Lady Gwendolyn Hockley. He couldn’t recall much about the lady except she had a long face that always put him in mind of a horse.

  He shuddered and hesitantly picked up the forth card. Lady Constance Acton. He paused to search his memory for any recollection of her, but other than a whiff of a scandal some months ago, he couldn’t rightly place her.

  He gathered all the cards together and tapped them against the top of his mahogany desk. There were fourteen days until Christmas, at which time his father would return and expect to be presented with an announcement.

  Failure wasn’t an option.

  With a long-suffering sigh, he fanned the cards out in his hand and closed his eyes, plucking one from the rest.

  He opened one eye just a slit in order to see tonight’s lucky contestant. He flicked the card with his finger and rose from his chair.

  It was time to get ready for the bride hunt ball.

  ***

  “Sabrina!” The screech could be heard through the townhouse, or perhaps nearly half of Mayfair for that matter. “Oh, where is that gel!”

  Miss Sabrina Everhart heard the grumble from the Countess of Warably as she entered the front parlor. The older lady scowled at her entrance, but it wasn’t anything that Sabrina wasn’t used to by now. After suffering as the lady’s meager paid companion for the past six months, she was familiar with her continual impatience. It certainly wasn’t the path that Sabrina had imagined for herself, but when one was a poor relation with no other family, she’d had little choice but to accept the crumbs of charity that were provided. She supposed she should be grateful that she wasn’t living on the streets, that she had a roof over her head and food in her belly, but that didn’t mean she never ground her teeth when the countess ‘summoned’ her.

  Rather than a greeting, the older woman snapped, “Where have you been?”

  Sabrina curtsied like any other servant, for even though she came from a good family that was how low she’d fallen. “I apologize, my lady, but I was helping Mary clean the grate in the—”

  The countess’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head, as if finally noticing the slight smudges of soot that stained her companion’s apron. “You were doing the work of a housemaid?”

  Sabrina curtailed what she wanted to say, and instead replied with, “After Martha left the servants have been running short staffed. I only offered my assistance—”

  Again, she was cut off. “A well-bred lady doing such menial work is unheard of! If we needed to hire another maid, I should have been told immediately!”

  “I believe Ives mentioned—”

  “The man rambles on so, it gives me a headache.” The countess put a hand to her temple for effect. “I’ve never heard of such a nervous butler, but since he was so devoted to my dearly departed husband, I can’t sack him, so I m
ust endure his endless chatter.”

  Sabrina nearly rolled her eyes. The only “chattering” Ives ever did was to approach the countess about matters like hiring a servant to replace the one who departed. Otherwise, he tended to give his employer a wide berth like everyone else.

  The countess waved a hand. “I will see to the matter of another maid, so long as you don’t disgrace me by rummaging around in the fireplace again.”

  “Yes, my lady.” She turned to leave, thinking that their meeting had concluded, but she was wrong.

  “Make sure that you are dressed accordingly for a ball this evening. The Mayfield’s are hosting a fantastic celebration, if rumor can be believed. I should like to attend.”

  Sabrina’s stomach sank. The only thing she detested more than living at Warably House in Mayfair, it was going out in public with the countess, where she could be truly humiliated in front of her peers. Even if many in London didn’t know who she was, for Sabrina had lived most of her life in Brighton, the countess made sure to announce rather loudly about her “poor great niece who was left destitute and orphaned,” and whom she “took in out of the kindness” of her heart. What she failed to say was that instead of giving Sabrina a chance at a proper season, she preferred to have someone at her constant beck and call. So at four and twenty, Sabrina was pretty much firmly on the shelf with no prospects of leaving her dusty spinsterhood behind.

  But, as usual, she held her tongue and headed upstairs to her room to do her duty.

  Chapter Two

  Edward stood near the edge of the ballroom decorated with numerous boughs of evergreen, as he awaited the opportunity to intercept Lady Constance Acton when she arrived. He wasn’t really looking forward to the prospect, but since his father had made it abundantly clear what would happen if he didn’t procure an engagement upon his return, he was resigned to doing his duty. Not everyone could have the luxury of marrying for love like his brother had. More was expected of men who inherited titles and estates.

  As he waited, Edward had time to survey the rest of the attendees who were steadily entering. He’d arrived early with a sole purpose in mind, but now, he found his interest was rather piqued by an older woman and her seemingly reluctant companion. In truth, if the lady’s expression turned any more green he might imagine she’d bit into a lemon.

  But then he caught the rather vocal conversation taking place as they left their host and hostess, and he realized why the girl appeared so ill at ease.

  “Sabrina, do hurry! Pick up your feet at once! I don’t wish to keep the Marchioness of Hurrandy waiting!”

  Sabrina. Edward rolled the girl’s name over in his mind, finding that he liked the sound of it. What he didn’t like was the countess’s treatment of her. It was obvious she was a paid companion, but he could only guess as to what she’d done to get saddled with the Countess of Warably. He’d heard horror stories of the woman and how she couldn’t keep help for her poor attitude around her staff. And although he’d had to suffer her presence but a handful of times, as she was known to his father, he was grateful it was no more than a passing acquaintance.

  He surveyed the girl as she tried to placate her mistress, and he decided that she was rather pretty with her chestnut hair, but the plain brown dress that she wore did nothing to complement her soft features. In truth, it washed out her face entirely — other than the lines of strain that he could see bracketing her mouth.

  As they drew near to where he stood, he saw Sabrina give a long-suffering sigh. But as she glanced up and saw him, her steps faltered slightly. Instantly this caused the older woman no end of annoyance.

  “You clumsy gel!” she snapped. “Now is not the time for your country upbringing to rear its ugly head. We are among polite society…”

  As the countess rattled on, Edward decided he’d had enough. He stepped forward and bowed in front of the lady. “Lady Warably. Might I be of some assistance?”

  The lady harrumphed and waved her fan in front of her face. “I fear it’s too late to instill any manners in this one.” She gestured in Sabrina’s direction. “A lost cause I’m afraid, Lord Rundell.”

  He leaned forward slightly as if imparting a secret. “But isn’t that true for most of us, my lady?”

  To his surprise, the lady’s lips twitched, as if she might be holding back a smile. “Indeed. And I can see you possess your father’s charm. Tell me, how is the earl faring?”

  Edward straightened; uncomfortable with any comparison to the man he called his sire. “He’s doing well enough I suppose,” he returned evenly. “I haven’t heard from him since he left for Bath.”

  “No doubt he will be well entertained. He never was one to go without his share of company.” The lady smirked, and Edward clenched his fists at his side. Of course the countess would want to bring up the fact that his father was a licentious libertine who’d had nearly as many paramours as the poet John Wilmot, the Earl of Rochester, was rumored to have during his brief lifetime. “Do send him my regards,” the countess added, and then flicked her wrist as she moved past him.

  However, as her silent companion moved forward, their eyes connected and a shock of awareness flowed through Edward’s veins. He hadn’t noticed the color of her eyes before, but now he could see that they were a rather unique shade of amber. But it wasn’t even her gaze that caught his attention, or the faint scent of oranges that he caught as she walked by.

  It was the fact that he longer cared about Lady Constance Acton.

  ***

  Sabrina’s heart was racing inside of her chest. It was the same thrill she got when she galloped on a horse across an open field, flying across the expanse with a feeling of personal freedom. She imagined this night was going to be just like the others, suffering Lady Warably’s continual upset with her presence, and yet, after meeting him, she found that her interest was piqued.

  While she knew it would be a mistake to ask Lady Warably about him, she couldn’t resist her curiosity. But she had to do it quickly. Once she reached the equally unpleasant woman seated at the corner of the room, her mouth already pinched with disapproval, Sabrina knew any hope of inquiring about the man was gone.

  “Who was that gentleman, my lady?”

  The countess shot her an annoyed glance, but she said, “That was Edward Castleford, Viscount Rundell. He is the heir to the Earl of Vellerman, but don’t imagine that you should put any designs on him. He is far above you in station.”

  Sabrina wasn’t surprised that the lady might have added something derogatory on her behalf. She liked to remind Sabrina that it was because of her kind nature that she wasn’t on the streets with the rest of the “London riffraff.” It was just another way she chained Sabrina to this prison she was forced to endure.

  As they joined the marchioness, Sabrina sat in a chair behind the women as she always did, readily available if the countess needed something, but far enough away that she wouldn’t be privy to their gossip.

  Sabrina settled herself for a long night, but as the crowd began to gather into quite a crush, she glanced up and saw that familiar, tall countenance. Lord Rundell was in conversation with a lady and her parents near the edge of the room. He bowed gallantly in the lady’s direction and Sabrina held her breath as he led her to the dance floor for the first set. She saw him pull her into his arms, a respectable distance, as they began to sway to the music.

  Sabrina didn’t know the set, as balls and parties weren’t something she had generally attended until she’d come to London to stay with Lady Warably. Her father had been a vicar and tended to frown on such frivolities.

  But now, she closed her eyes and imagined that beneath the dark slash of his brows, those gray-green eyes were focused on her. His lips would slowly curve in a smile, and as he twirled her about the room, the candlelight would glisten off his brown hair, catching the golden strands woven throughout.

  “Sabrina!”

  Her eyes popped open as she focused on Lady Warably. She’d been so lost in her
daydream that she hadn’t heard the lady calling her name. And by the irritated look on her face, it hadn’t been the first time she’d done so.

  “Cease your foolish woolgathering and fetch some punch for the marchioness and I. We’re quite parched.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Sabrina murmured as she stood, but the countess had already turned around in her chair and effectively dismissed her.

  Sabrina withheld a sigh as she skirted the edge of the ballroom and headed for the refreshment table. The doors leading to the terrace were just beyond, but they were closed to the chill of the mid-December air. Even so, there was a part of her that was tempted to continue moving forward, to walk out across the lawn and just… disappear. Unfortunately, that would be all too true, for without any money or prospects she would likely find herself in even worse circumstances than she faced now. She might lament her current situation, but at least she wasn’t forced into even worse service.

  Sabrina procured two glasses of punch from the footman and was just about to turn around when a deep voice behind her said, “I don’t believe we were properly introduced earlier.”

  Her mouth fell slack as she stared at Lord Rundell. She still held the punch, but she dipped into a rather awkward curtsy. “My lord.”

  He smiled and her stomach did a little flip, for he was even more handsome than she’d imagined in her fantasies. “I’m Edward Castleford, Viscount Rundell.” He lifted a dark brow. “And you are?”

  She was momentarily struck mute, but she recovered enough to say, “Miss Sabrina Everhart.”

  His grin widened. “Miss Everhart, would you do me the honor of the next set?”

  Sabrina blinked, sure that she’d heard him wrong. “You want to dance with me?”

  “Indeed.” His eyes twinkled. “If you are amenable, of course.”

  “I…uh…” For someone who had been taught proper conduct and conversation all her life, words failed her now. But as the orchestra began to prepare for a waltz, she remembered one important thing. “I can’t dance.”