CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Newsletter and Social Media Links

  About the Author

  Other books by Carole Mortimer

  Copyright © 2025 Carole Mortimer

  Cover Design Copyright © Glass Slipper WebDesign

  Formatter: Glass Slipper WebDesign

  ISBN: 978-1-914336-24-9

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Reserved.

  DEDICATION

  My Family

  CHAPTER ONE

  Early May, 1817

  St. Albans House, London

  “As they are all unaware, and will remain so, at your request, you must allow me to be the one to thank you for everything you have done for my mother and sisters since my father died,” Georgiana told the gentleman seated across from her behind the wide mahogany desk.

  That gentleman was the Duke of St. Albans. A man who was a close friend of the Prince Regent. A man not known for his kindness, but who instead was either feared or respected—in some cases, both—by other members of the ton.

  Georgiana inwardly admitted to being slightly in awe of him too, despite the fact he was now married to her good friend Lily and was father to another of their close friends, Chloe.

  Like Georgiana, both those ladies were among the six founder members of the Spinsters Alliance. A group they had formed with the idea of supporting each other so that they were not forced into accepting a marriage and husband who did not love them and whom they did not love nor wish to spend the rest of their lives with.

  That alliance was only of two months’ duration, and already, two of its founder members had fallen in love and were deeply loved in return. Lily was happily married to the Duke of St. Albans, and Chloe would shortly marry the Duke of Hellsmere, that couple also deeply in love with each other.

  The duke, impeccably and fashionably clothed as usual in the dark attire he preferred, now studied Georgian through narrowed lids for several long minutes.

  Long enough for Georgiana to begin to fidget. Until she realized what she was doing and put a stop to it by clutching her velvet reticule protectively against her chest as she met that steely gaze.

  “And what makes you think I have done anything for your mother and sisters?” St. Albans finally drawled.

  She gave a derisive laugh. “My mother may choose to believe that my father’s cold heart suffered a sea change before he died. That because it had, he has left sufficient finances for my mother to buy a house for them all to live in comfortably together.”

  “But you do not believe it?”

  “Of course not,” Georgiana scorned. “In private, my father was not just unpleasant, he was cruel toward all of us, my mother especially. Simply because she gave birth to three daughters rather than the sons he desired. He never forgave my mother for it, and he despised the three of us simply because of our gender. To a degree I doubt he gave a second thought to what would happen to any of us after he died. Perhaps he had even hoped to outlive my mother and take a second wife who might give him sons,” she added bitterly, the thought having just occurred to her. “In any case, I know he did not provide for any of us.”

  St. Albans’s jaw tightened. “I had no idea of his unacceptable behavior toward all of you until my Lily told me of it.” His voice softened noticeably as he spoke of the young lady who was now his beloved duchess.

  “It’s water under the bridge now that he is dead,” Georgiana dismissed briskly. “I have never seen any point in dwelling on a past which cannot be changed.”

  She was more interested in the future. Now that her mother and sisters were comfortably and safely settled, it was Georgiana’s own future she wished to concentrate on. A future which, if possible, would not include continuing to accept charity from the Duke of St. Albans.

  “Indeed.” The duke nodded. “What led you to the conclusion that I must have had something to do with your family’s change of fortune?”

  Georgiana smiled. “Having thought the matter over, it was the only conclusion possible. Especially knowing how you have helped another of our friends escape a difficult family situation.”

  She referred to her friend Rose Appleby, the fourth member of the Spinsters Alliance, and so also a friend of Lily, St. Albans’s new duchess, and his daughter, Chloe. Rose’s home situation had become dire several weeks ago, but she had been safely removed and hidden from that danger. By St. Albans.

  “My father was respected by his peers but not universally liked, so I knew it could not be one of his friends who had stepped in,” Georgiana continued. “He had also ensured that my mother did not have close friends, probably with the desire to prevent her from ever discussing his unkindness toward us with those friends,” she added tersely.

  The duke’s jaw tightened. “I am truly sorry you have all had to suffer in this way.”

  “You are not responsible for the way in which Society functions,” she dismissed. “But those facts did lead me to the conclusion that it must be one of my own friends who was helping us. As I have stated, Rose does not have the necessary funds to help herself, let alone us.”

  “No,” he confirmed abruptly.

  “Amanda and Julia left London for the country last week, upon the death of their mutual maternal grandmother.” She referred to the two cousins, who were the fifth and sixth members of the Spinsters Alliance. “They will both, once Lady Roxburgh’s estate has been settled, become heiresses in their own right. But that is currently not the case. That left only Lily and Chloe. To that end, I spoke with the two of them. Together. Because of our friendship, they admitted the truth to me.”

  He frowned. “Ah.”

  “Please do not be angry with either of them,” Georgiana pleaded. “They are my closest friends, and I appreciate them telling me the truth.”

  St. Albans chuckled. “Believe me when I say that I adore my duchess and my daughter far too much to ever be cross with either of them for more than a few minutes.” He eyed her curiously. “I noticed you did not include yourself amongst the members of your family who might wish to thank me.”

  Georgiana moistened her lips before speaking again. “I assure you, I am most grateful for all your assistance to my family, financial and otherwise.”

  As well as the duke’s financial largesse, her family had benefited socially from the Duke and Duchess of St. Albans calling upon Georgiana’s family every week since their marriage. As an indication to the rest of the ton that St. Albans dismissed any possibility of the countess and her daughters being involved in the scandal that had surrounded the earl’s early demise.

  “But…?” St. Albans now prompted.

  She drew herself up straighter in the chair. “But I cannot continue to accept your generosity for myself.”

  “Why not?”

  She winced. “Because it makes me feel very uncomfortable to do so when I never intend to marry and would therefore remain a burden to you for the rest of my life. To that end,” she continued before the duke could interrupt and no doubt assure her it was of no bother or hardship to him to privately financially support her and her family for as long as was necessary, “I have decided I wish to seek employment.”

  His brows rose in obvious surprise. “As what?”

  “Anything, as long as it is not illegal and doesn’t bring shame upon me or my mother and sisters.” Her cheeks bloomed with color. “But preferably something away from London and which would allow me to earn enough to support myself immediately and for the foreseeable future.”

  “Marriage would⁠—”

  “If Lily and Chloe have not already done so, then let me tell you of my vehement dislike of ever entering into that institution.” Her mouth twisted with the aversion she felt toward the very idea of ever giving any man that sort of power her father had had over his wife and daughters.

  “Since learning of your father’s behavior, I now realize exactly why you would feel that way. But not all men are like him.”

  “I never intend to marry,” she stated vehemently.

  The duke bowed in acknowledgment of the passion behind that statement. “I am deeply sorry for that. But, having said that”—his expression brightened—“by a fortuitous coincidence, I have today received a letter from an old friend.” He searched through the pile of open letters on his desk. “Ah, here it is.” He pulled a thick piece of vellum from amongst them, once again perusing the words written upon it before glancing up at Georgiana. “Like you, my friend has no time for Society or London. Nor does he have the inclination to attend any of the events that occur each Season. Indeed, he resides in Norfolk year-round, which is why he has asked for my assistance in finding a new secretary.”

  An image of the gentleman appeared in her thoughts. No doubt he would be gray-haired, slightly stooped, perhaps slightly overweight from a lack of exercise. An amenable gentleman, one with whom
she might even be able to converse as they sat beside a fire in the evenings after dinner. It would be wonderful to be able to state her opinions on politics and social dilemmas without being told it is not a woman’s place to discuss such subjects.

  Except… “Are secretaries not usually male?”

  “What if they are?” St. Albans dismissed. “I would have thought that you, of all people, would enjoy cocking a snoop at what is considered ‘usual’ in regard to male and female activities.”

  Georgiana had never made any secret to her closest female friends that she disliked intensely this unwritten rule that certain occupations were meant for females and others only for males.

  “What happened to his previous secretary?”

  St. Albans smiled. “He quickly tired of my friend’s refusal to so much as visit London, or to attend or host even the smallest of suitable social engagements in Norfolk.”

  “And if I were to accept the position, I would also be required to reside in Norfolk year-round and not attend social engagements, local or otherwise?”

  The duke arched dark brows. “From what you and my Lily and Chloe have said, I had assumed you would not find it a hardship to live away from London and its entertainments for a time.”

  She snorted. “I would not. In fact, it would suit me if I never had to return to living in London or attend Society events ever again!”

  He eyed her curiously. “Does that mean that if you accept this position, you do not intend to tell your family the real reason for your absence?”

  “Heavens, no!” She chuckled. “My mother would not allow it if she knew what I was about to do.”

  “A sentiment, as a father, I can fully relate to. If Chloe had ever thought of carrying out such a hare-brained scheme, she would not be able to sit down for a⁠—”

  “I do believe Chloe has made her own mark, within society and out of it,” she reminded pointedly.

  “You are correct, of course. I apologize.” The duke gave a formal bow of his head even as he drew in a deep and controlling breath. “I stand by my offer to assist you in carrying out these arrangements, while at the same time, I urge you to reconsider your actions.”

  “And I appreciate your concern but politely decline. I shall go to Norfolk to become secretary to your friend. As to what I shall tell my family, we are all currently in mourning for my father,” Georgiana reminded. “Julia and Amanda are also in mourning for their beloved grandmother. They have sent word they will not be returning to London and intend to remain in the country for the rest of the Season.” Her expression brightened. “I believe I might join them there.”

  St. Albans looked perplexed. “You now intend to visit with the them in the country?”

  “I intend to tell my mother and sisters that is where I am going, when in truth, I shall be traveling to and then residing in Norfolk,” she corrected. “I am sure, once I have written to Julia and Amanda, they will happily assist me in that deception.”

  “Being another two members of the Spinsters Alliance,” he acknowledged.

  Georgiana felt the heat in her cheeks. “Exactly.” She knew that St. Albans had overheard, quite by accident, the very first meeting of that alliance. He had done so because it had taken place within his own library, and Chloe had not realized her father was sitting at the opposite end of the room while the six young ladies formed the alliance.

  “How soon do you imagine you might be able to secure these arrangements with your family and friends and travel into Norfolk?” the duke prompted briskly.

  “I believe you might write and tell your friend that I will arrive by the end of the month.”

  He nodded. “I will, of course, provide a carriage and the necessary grooms to take you there⁠—”

  “But—”

  “Lily and Chloe would have my head if I were to allow you to travel all that way by public coach,” he insisted. “When do you intend telling them of your real plans?”

  “Not yet,” she dismissed vaguely. “And I would ask that you not do so either.”

  He winced. “I will not lie to my Lily or my daughter.”

  “This would be by omission rather than telling them a lie.”

  “Still…”

  “Please.” She gave him her most pleading look.

  “Neither of them will be happy with me when or if the truth comes out.”

  “And I will be very unhappy with you if you tell them of my plans before I am ready to do so,” Georgiana shot back. “Not that it would bother you if I were,” she accepted dryly. “But I would prefer it if you left it to me to decide if there is any necessity to tell Lily and Chloe of my real plans.”

  St. Albans continued to frown. “Do you at least have a maid to accompany you?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt any in my mother’s household would wish to leave London. Or, even if they did, they would be willing to be a part of my deception. Besides, if I am traveling under the protection of the Duke of St. Albans, I will not need a maid.” No one would dare to challenge anyone traveling in the carriage of such an important and powerful gentleman.

  She had no doubt that her sisters, under the aegis of a friendship with the Duke and Duchess of St. Albans, would both eventually make suitable matches. Even her mother might eventually find happiness, either by making female friends or perhaps by marrying again. But Georgiana really did not wish that for herself. A move to Norfolk, a place she had never been but had been told was starkly beautiful, sounded a far better arrangement for her.

  Georgiana eyed the duke warily. “Is there a reason that you have so far referred to this gentleman who resides in Norfolk only as ‘my friend’?”

  The duke smiled slightly. “Lily and Chloe have both commented on your astuteness and intelligence.”

  “And?” Georgiana was not susceptible to flattery.

  He watched her closely. “The name of my friend is Julian Sotherby, the Duke of Moreland,” he announced without preamble.

  Georgiana recoiled.

  Understandably.

  Because everyone in Society knew the name of the Duke of Moreland, even if they had not met him.

  As Georgiana, now aged nineteen, had only been eligible to attend the past two Seasons, and the Duke of Moreland had been absent for both of them, she had never so much as seen him, let alone met him.

  But she had heard the gossip from other young ladies of Moreland’s roguish good looks and his height of being well above six feet, along with the muscular fitness of his body.

  All of which would seem to imply he was not the rotund and elderly gentleman Georgiana had envisaged spending time with as they discussed politics by a fire. He was more likely to be of a similar age to St. Albans’s eight and thirty.

  All still spoke of the scandal which had driven Moreland from Society almost two years ago, when his duchess of only one year had mysteriously disappeared, and was now presumed to have died, while they were visiting the Moreland estate in Norfolk.

  Despite the handsomeness of the groom and the beauty of the bride, the marriage was rumored not to have been a happy one. Gossip had it that the duke and duchess had been heard arguing several times. Most significantly on the morning of her disappearance.

  Extensive searches had taken place for several weeks, locally and farther afield, but no trace of the duchess had ever been found. Indeed, it was as if she had been magically swept away into the ether.

  It hadn’t taken long for the gossip to circulate, and reach London too, that as the duchess’s body had never been found, the duke must have killed his wife and buried her somewhere out on the Norfolk fenlands. Where it was unlikely her body would ever be found.

  So far, it had not.

  And this was the man the Duke of St. Albans wished for Georgiana to travel to Norfolk and take up employment with?

  “Moreland is not responsible for his wife’s disappearance,” St. Albans stated unequivocally. “I believe, as do all of Moreland’s true friends, that the duchess is still alive.”