A Foolish Game: A Regency Romance (Regency Brides: A Promise of Love Book 5) Read online

  A Foolish Game: A Regency Romance

  Laura Beers

  A Foolish Game: A Regency Romance

  By: Laura Beers

  Text copyright © 2020 by Laura Beers

  Cover art copyright © 2020 by Laura Beers

  Cover art by Blue Water Books

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, copied, or transmitted without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  More Romance by Laura Beers

  The Beckett Files

  Regency Spy Romances

  Saving Shadow

  A Peculiar Courtship

  To Love a Spy

  A Tangled Ruse

  A Deceptive Bargain

  The Baron’s Daughter

  The Unfortunate Debutante

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  1

  London, 1813

  Lady Isabella Beauchamp had the misfortune of being born a girl. This was something she was quite sure about. She wasn’t truly free to be who she wanted to be. Society had such stringent restrictions about how a lady should behave. It was exhausting to pretend to be something she was not. She wanted to experience adventure and the rush of excitement, she decided, as she raced her horse through the fields surrounding her townhouse.

  But that was impossible. For she was a lady, the daughter of a marquess. Just because he was deceased did not change the fact that Society expected certain things from her, as did her family. They were constantly chiding her for her unladylike behavior, and she found it to be rather irksome.

  Why couldn’t her family understand that she was unable to conform to Society’s ridiculous expectations of her? Why wouldn’t they let her be who she was meant to be, even if it meant she was destined to become a spinster?

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her brother, Everett, the Marquess of Northampton, gaining on her, leaning over his gelding’s neck, apparently coaxing a little more speed from the horse.

  She tightened her hold on the reins, leaned lower in her side saddle, and urged her horse faster, feeling alive as the wind blew through her blonde hair that had scandalously fallen from her chignon. The pounding of Maximus’s hooves beneath her were rhythmic, and she knew she would never tire of that sound.

  As she approached the iron fence surrounding the back of their property, she drew up her mount then wheeled the white gelding around to face her brother.

  “I win again,” she announced proudly.

  Everett reined in his horse. “That you did.”

  “They should call you ‘The Marquess of Lost Races’,” Isabella quipped.

  Chuckling, he replied, “You are truly awful at giving nicknames.”

  “Perhaps, but that makes it no less true.”

  “I must acknowledge your exceptional riding skills,” Everett said, adjusting the reins in his hand. “You have managed to beat me in every race I’ve challenged you to.”

  “I would have beaten you even more soundly if you had let me ride astride,” she remarked confidently as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

  Everett eyed her with disapproval. “You are in London now,” he chided, his voice taking on a stern edge. “You can’t ride astride. It is simply not done.”

  “I think it is rather ludicrous,” she admitted. “After all, I will stay on our lands and—”

  He cut her off. “No, absolutely not. And, frankly, I tire of repeatedly having this same conversation,” he stated in an irritated tone. “Nothing you say will change my mind.”

  Isabella opened her mouth and closed it, forcing herself to bite back the angry retort she wanted to make. She knew there was no point in arguing. Her brother could be just as stubborn as she was.

  She leaned forward and rubbed Maximus’s neck. “Understood,” she muttered.

  “I am not a heartless monster,” Everett sighed. “After the Season concludes and we return to our country estate, then you will be free to ride astride again.”

  “I suppose I can manage to wait that long.”

  “That is assuming you haven’t found yourself married by the end of the Season,” Everett added with a grin.

  Isabella stiffened. “I can assure you that won’t happen.”

  “Your aversion to marriage is starting to become rather troublesome,” Everett commented.

  “I am only eighteen years old,” she contended.

  “True, but you aren’t even entertaining the thought of allowing someone to court you,” he observed knowingly.

  Her horse pawed at the ground as if sensing her growing irritation. “Why should I?” she countered. “I have no desire to be trapped in a loveless marriage.”

  “You won’t feel trapped if you marry the right person,” he said gently. “I certainly don’t feel that way with Madalene.”

  Isabella shifted her gaze away from her brother’s, her eyes scanning the green fields. “You were lucky,” she remarked. “Madalene fell from a tree into your coach, and it was practically love at first sight.”

  “Both of those things are true, but it doesn’t diminish what I am trying to tell you.”

  “Which is?”

  “You need to become more serious about choosing a suitor.”

  Isabella met his gaze with determination. “No,” she asserted. “I have no intention of marrying this Season, or the next. Maybe I won’t marry at all. I’d be perfectly happy to spend the rest of my days living contently as a spinster in a small estate.”

  Everett gave her an exasperated look. “Do be serious, Isabella.”

  “I am being serious.”

  “You would willingly forego marriage to become a spinster?” he asked in disbelief.

  With a shrug of one shoulder, she replied, “The thought of being alone doesn’t frighten me.”

  “It should.”

  She paused, unsure of how to make him understand. “If I do decide to marry, it will only be for love.”

  “As well you should.”

  Tightening the reins in her gloved hand, Isabella said, “But love is not possible for everyone. I fully acknowledge that I have a peculiar personality. A trait that many gentlemen of the ton are not willing to overlook.”

  “Not only are you the daughter of a marquess, but you have an impressive dowry—”

  She spoke over him. “I want a man that will love me above all else and not because of my lineage or my dowry.”

  Everett’s voice softened as he spoke encouragingly. “You deserve that, but you have to give your suitors a chance. You may find some of them are tolerable.”

  “Most of the men that have come to call on me are boring and pompous.”

  “Just promise me that you will try.”

  Isabella glanced u
p at the clear, blue sky as she attempted to delay her response. She really didn’t want to make a promise to her brother that she had no intention of keeping.

  Everett must have understood her reluctance to respond because he surprised her by changing the subject. “How are you faring now that Charlotte has left on her wedding tour with Hudson?”

  “I must admit that I am rather melancholy,” she replied, “but I hope they have a wonderful time in Scotland.”

  “They both seemed so happy on their wedding day.”

  Isabella smiled at that thought. “They were. I have never seen Lottie so happy. I don’t think she could have stopped smiling even if she’d wanted to.”

  Everett nodded. “I thought the day I married Madalene was my happiest day, but every day, my love for her grows stronger. Now, whenever I am with her, my heart overflows with joy.”

  “I am happy for you,” Isabella said. “For both of you.”

  “Will you be attending the theatre with us this evening?”

  Isabella stifled a groan. “I suppose I have no choice. Mother will be insistent that I attend, no matter how much I protest.”

  “What an unfortunate life you lead,” he joked. “We force you to attend theatres, balls, and soirées with us.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” she replied, smiling.

  “Come,” Everett said, turning his horse towards their townhouse. “We’d better hurry back before it gets too late.”

  “Do we have to?”

  He nodded. “Yes, I have a meeting with my steward today.”

  “Can I stay and ride alone?” she asked hopefully.

  “Absolutely not,” he answered. “It isn’t safe to ride alone.”

  “But—”

  He spoke over her. “Even on our lands,” he asserted.

  “I used to ride alone all the time in the woods surrounding Miss Bell’s Finishing School.”

  “That is very disconcerting to hear,” he said. “That was not a wise thing to do. After all, there are unscrupulous people everywhere.”

  In a smug tone, she replied, “I have no doubt that I could outride anyone who intends to do me harm.”

  “That is not the point.”

  “Then what is?”

  He watched her closely as he paused, his expression growing solemn. “It is time for you to start acting like a proper lady.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  “No, you’re not,” he responded with a shake of his head.

  “I’m trying, Everett.”

  “You need to try harder.”

  Her lips curled downward in frustration. “You cannot possibly comprehend all the restrictions that are placed on me because I am a lady.”

  “I understand—”

  She cut him off. “No, you don’t! I have to dress a certain way, think a certain way, behave in a certain way, and for what?” she asked, tossing her hand up in the air. “To make myself noticeable to potential suitors by pretending to be something that I’m not. It is ludicrous.”

  “I know it may be difficult…”

  “No. I tire of this game,” she replied, speaking over him. “It is a game I am not willing to play anymore.”

  Everett looked at her with a baffled expression. “What are you saying?”

  Squaring her shoulders, she replied, “I am going to start playing by my own set of rules.”

  “If you do so, you will be shunned by Society.”

  “Then so be it.”

  “You can’t possibly mean that.”

  “I do,” she replied firmly.

  “Why don’t we return to the townhouse,” Everett suggested, turning his horse to face her. “We will continue this conversation at a later date.”

  Her horse whinnied, drawing her attention. “My opinions won’t change on the matter,” she informed him. “I can be so much more than what Society expects me to be; what you expect me to be.”

  “I have no doubt, but you must think of your reputation,” he pressed, “of our family’s reputation.”

  “I understand that’s what you want, but I can’t keep living a lie.”

  Everett sighed. “I don’t want you to, Isabella, but sometimes duty comes before our own wants.” He glanced towards the sun. “Can we finish this conversation later? I do need to meet with my steward soon.”

  “All right,” she replied, adjusting the reins in her hand. “I’ll race you back to the townhouse.”

  Without saying another word, Everett turned his horse and kicked it into a run.

  Isabella urged her horse forward, knowing it wouldn’t be long before she overtook her brother. This was a race she would easily win.

  Isabella reined in her horse in front of her four-level townhouse and dismounted as Everett’s horse came to a stop on the gravel courtyard.

  “I won again,” she announced victoriously as she handed off the reins to an awaiting footman.

  Everett shook his head good-naturedly. “Well done, Isabella,” he praised as he dismounted.

  “Thank you,” she replied, following him up the stairs.

  The ebony door to the townhouse opened, and their tall, balding butler stood to the side and greeted them.

  “How was your ride?” Howe asked, glancing between them.

  Everett started to remove his gloves as he replied, “It went well.”

  Howe closed the door and turned to face her. “Your mother is requesting your presence in the drawing room.”

  “Did she state why?” Isabella inquired.

  “Lord Westinghouse and Lord Donald Scarsdale are here to call upon you,” Howe informed her.

  Isabella glanced at the open door of the drawing room on the opposite side of the entry hall. “And my mother is currently entertaining them?”

  “Yes, milady.”

  “How long have they been waiting?”

  Howe glanced over at the longcase clock positioned near the staircase. “No longer than ten minutes.” He directed his next comment to Everett. “Lord Donald also requested to speak to you privately after he meets with Lady Isabella.”

  “I expected as much,” Everett remarked as he extended his gloves towards the butler. “This is the third time he has called upon my sister.”

  Isabella met her brother’s gaze and asked, “You don’t think he would truly offer for me, do you?”

  Everett bobbed his head. “I do.”

  “But we hardly know each other.”

  Her brother looked amused. “You danced a set together at Lady Huffington’s ball, and he has come to call on three separate occasions. What did you anticipate was going to happen?”

  “Lord Donald is pleasant enough, but it is much too soon for me to even consider the thought of matrimony,” she declared. “What will you tell him?”

  Everett gave her a reassuring smile. “That the decision is yours, and yours alone.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Now, go entertain your suitors,” he said, pointing towards the drawing room door. “You mustn’t keep them waiting for too long.”

  She placed a hand on her hip. “I must admit that I don’t want to encourage them.”

  “Then don’t,” Everett responded. “After all, you are a beautiful young woman, and I have no doubt that you will have a continuous stream of suitors vying for your attention.”

  “Because of my beauty?”

  He nodded.

  “But I am so much more than that,” she protested. “I have my own opinions and ideas.”

  Everett placed a hand on the sleeve of her grey riding habit. “We both know that, but the majority of men become distracted by a woman’s beauty.”

  “Do you think Lord Donald is only interested in me because he thinks I’m beautiful?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” her brother replied with a shrug. “That is something you will need to discover on your own.”

  “But how do you recommend I go about that?”

  Lowering his hand to his side, he said, “I don’t know,
but you are quite clever. I have faith that you will find a way to discover the truth.”

  An ingenious thought came to her. One that would no doubt test Lord Donald’s intentions towards her.

  She turned towards Howe. “Can you inform them that I will be down shortly? I would like to change first.”

  “Why not just entertain them in your riding habit?” Everett asked.

  Placing a hand up to her chest, she feigned outrage. “I can’t possibly meet potential suitors wearing a riding habit. What would they think of me?”

  Everett eyed her curiously. “What are you about, sister?”

  “Nothing,” she insisted, walking over to the stairs. “I just would like a moment to change into something more appropriate.”

  “Suit yourself,” Everett said. “I will be in my study.”

  Isabella hurried up the stairs and headed for her bedchamber. She flung open the door and her lady’s maid gasped as she looked up from organizing her dressing table.

  “Good heavens. You startled me,” Leah declared, bringing her hand to her chest. “Is everything all right?”

  Stepping into the room, Isabella closed the door behind her. “I need to change,” she informed her. “Lord Donald and Lord Westinghouse have come to call.”

  Leah walked over to the armoire in the corner. “Would an afternoon dress be sufficient?”

  “I was thinking of something different.”

  “Oh?” Leah asked, turning to face her. “What were you thinking, milady?”

  Isabella removed her riding gloves as she said, “I want to wear the gown that I wore to Lady Buxton’s masquerade ball.”

  “The peacock dress?”

  She nodded.

  Her lady’s maid frowned. “But, why?”