Dunbury Park

By Anne Gallagher

Book Two in the Ladies of Dunbury Series - Lady Faith Curtiss, daughter of the late Duke of Trowbridge, understands the responsibility of a title. However, it doesn’t seem to matter much anymore. Impoverished since her mother’s death, she and her sisters have come to live with their other cousins, all of them orphans and dependent upon their uncle, Henry Wade, the Marquess of Dunbury whose only aim is to marry them off as quickly as possible.

When Faith meets the new curate of the parish, her heart is seized. Peter Williams is all that is good and kind in a man. He is also brilliant, handsome, and has made it known he is waiting until her eighteenth birthday to ask for her hand.

However, her uncle is looking in another direction for Faith—the Earl-next-door—who is amenable to the idea of marrying into the Marquisate. Faith rejects the idea of taking her rightful place in Society, just for propriety’s sake, but the Earl is nearly perfect.

While Faith vacillates on the Earl’s proposal, it seems the new housekeeper at the parsonage also has her eye on the new curate and with her title the only thing standing in the way of true love, Faith is torn between marrying for the money, or fighting for her heart’s desire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne Gallagher
• Release date: Mar 10, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370793105

Anne Gallagher

Anne Gallagher was a professional chef for more than twenty years. Now, she writes Regency Romance with heroines who are not afraid to speak their minds. Her heroes, on the other hand, do not realize when they've met their match. Sparks fly, sexual tension sizzles, but never spills out of the pan, so-to-speak. Anne believes you don't have to end up in the bedroom to have a good book.Currently, Anne lives in the Foothills of the Piedmont in North Carolina with her daughter, three dogs and a cat named Henry David Thoreau.

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Dunbury Park

Anne Gallagher

Shore Road Publishing

PO Box 333

Bethania, NC 27010

U.S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2017 © Shore Road Publishing

All rights reserved

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Cover Design by Straw Hill Designs © 2016

Cover Portrait Jane Digby, Lady Ellenborough by Sir William Charles Ross (circa 1824)

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Dunbury Park

Prologue

17 October 1806

Saint Michael’s Church

Weeley Heath

Essex

Lady Faith Curtiss stepped out of the quiet church onto the stone path and followed it to the cemetery. Clutching the freshly picked bouquet of meadow flowers, she opened the gate and walked to the moss-covered mausoleum in the corner of the yard. The once-black wrought iron fence that surrounded the small building sat rusted and worn by years of neglect.

Faith glanced up at the words in Latin over the crypt. Ad Altiora Tendo. The Wade family motto—I Strive Toward Higher Things—seemed fitting as she placed the flowers in front of the door. Since her parent’s deaths, she had begun to view her life differently—no longer as the daughter of a duke, but a young woman who now had to make her own way in the world. Faith gave up a small prayer, though her mother was not entombed inside the vault. Both of her parents were in Wiltshire at the Trowbridge estate her cousin Perry, the heir to the duchy, now owned.

Faith could not accept the ultimatum that Perry forced on Faith to stay in Wiltshire, and she and her sisters Hope and Charity, left their family home. They had come to their cousin Mercy at Dunbury Manor when Faith was but ten-and-four, almost two years before. Faith tried not to wonder what would have happened to them without Mercy’s beneficence. Faith sighed, wishing she could talk to her mother. Some days she felt so alone. Hope and Charity looked to her for guidance and direction, yet what did she know about life? She was merely five-and-ten and not equipped to handle two rambunctious younger sisters. Faith missed her mother, Elspeth’s hugs. And the silly songs she used to invent to get the girls to sleep.

Faith wiped a tear with her gloved fingertip and turned away from the tomb. She took a step toward the gate and heard a man’s voice…giving a speech? Curious, she loosed the ribbons on her bonnet to hear the direction. Whoever it was, it was not Reverend Linke. Faith took a tentative step, and as the voice grew louder, continued toward the back of the church.

Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together in Gods ordinance in the Holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?

Faith stepped around the corner and said, I will.

The man, startled, dropped his Bible, and whirled around to face her.

Faith sucked in a breath. The most handsome man she had ever seen stared back at her with wide blue eyes. He could not have been more than five-and-twenty with fair hair and a broad jaw that turned into a wide smile.

Forgive me, he said. I did not realize anyone was here.

No. You must forgive me, Faith said. I had no wish to spoil the ceremony. Tell me, where is the bride and groom? And should you not be doing this inside the church rather than here in the woods behind it?

The man had the decency to blush. I am practicing. I am officiating my first wedding this morning. He stuck out his hand. Peter Williams. Curate to the Parish.

She shook his fingers. Where is Reverend Linke? Faith asked.

Oh, he is here. I am in training. He bent to pick up his Bible. His blue eyes never left hers. May I ask your name?

Faith smiled. Faith Curtiss. No need to tell him who she really was. Somehow, her title didn’t seem to matter much anymore.

And do you live in Weeley Heath? Peter asked.

Yes. Just up the lane there. Faith pointed to the clearing in the brush. But only in the summer. And I’m terribly sorry, but I must get back. We are leaving for London presently. I only wished to offer a small prayer for our journey. She bobbed a short curtsy and turned to go.

When will you return? he asked.

Faith stopped and looked at him. Was there more to the question he wasn’t asking? I’m afraid not until next summer, Faith said.

Peter William’s face wore sheer disappointment. Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Curtiss. He bowed. I look forward to seeing you next summer.

Good-bye, Mr. Williams. Faith waved and stepped behind the corner of the church where she couldn’t stop smiling, and skipped all the way to Dunbury Park.

Chapter One

15 April 1808

Dunbury Park

Weeley Heath

Essex

I do hope he likes them, Faith said, fastening the buttons on her new gloves.

I’m sure he will. Her cousin Mercy stared at her, then Mercy’s left eyebrow took a quizzical stance.

What is it? Faith asked. Have I a blemish? She peered into the mirror hanging above the table near the front door.

No, dearest, of course not, Mercy said. You are everything that is lovely. I just hope Mr. Williams appreciates your kindness.

It is such a small thing really, Faith said. She picked up the little box filled with a particular chocolate candy the curate had mentioned he liked last summer. Faith had made it a point to visit the sweet shop on Piccadilly before they left for Dunbury Park.

Mercy grabbed Faith’s elbow and asked, Are you sure the Earl of Helmsway is not the right man for you?

What would make you ask me that? Faith stopped and turned to her cousin. Bryan Thorpe is the perfect man. And that is the problem. He is perfect, therefore not right for me.

We are all supposed to make good matches, Mercy said. What kind of life would you have as a pastor’s wife? Long hours of drudgery tending to his flock.

Faith snorted. And look who is calling that kettle black? You are in love with a soldier, living your life waiting for his return.

Mercy sighed. You are right. We cannot choose whom we love. However, let us hope Uncle Henry allows us to marry them.

Faith giggled and opened the door. Spring snow had left melting patches of white dotting the front drive, interspersed among bluebells and forget-me-nots. She turned to Mercy as she stepped over the threshold. Do you think Lady Catherine and Uncle Henry are in love?

When their Uncle Henry had first returned from the war, it seemed his favor leaned in Lady Olivia’s direction. After all, she had been the great love of his life. However, something changed during the beginning of the Season. It now appeared that Lady Catherine, the girls’ governess, and Uncle Henry had formed a tentative union.

Mercy closed the door behind her and then wrapped her arm around Faith’s as they walked down the steps. I do believe they are even if they will not admit it.

Faith gathered her cape at the neck to keep out the wind. She should have worn her scarf. Do you think Lady Olivia knows? Lady Olivia Leighton, Duchess of Caymore, was the most powerful woman in London society, and quite used to having her way.

I am certain she does not want to believe the gossips, Mercy said, holding Faith closer. But I fear she has no choice. Lady Catherine and Uncle Henry seem to have formed an indelible bond. I cannot explain it. It almost feels as though they are married.

Faith giggled again. Do you think they have kissed?

I do not think we should speculate. Mercy threw back her head and laughed. But I do think they have.

The girls walked the long drive to the village of Weeley Heath and exited onto Church Lane. A hundred yards to the left, the little stone church of Saint Michael’s stood nestled behind giant pines. Daffodils and tulips lined the outside of the church, ivy peeking from puddles of melting snow. Faith led Mercy through the churchyard to the parsonage.

Faith took a deep breath, smiled at Mercy, and banged the doorknocker, fully expecting to see Mrs. Carmichael, the parsonage’s long-time housekeeper. Instead, a young, pretty woman dressed in a grey uniform with a white apron tied around her middle answered the door. Faith’s smile faded.

May I help you? the woman asked.

Is Mr. Williams in? Faith showed the housekeeper the box of sweets. We are just arrived to Dunbury Manor and I have brought him something from London.

I’m afraid Mr. Williams and Reverend Linke are attending business elsewhere this morning, the woman said. May I have your name please, and I will tell them you called.

Faith glanced at Mercy.

Mercy stepped up, took the box from Faith, and handed it to the housekeeper. Lady Wade and Lady Curtiss from Dunbury Park. Mercy took Faith’s hand and gave it a squeeze. Thank you, she said to the housekeeper, and tugged Faith down the stairs.

Faith glanced over her shoulder as the door closed behind them. Who was that? And where is poor Mrs. Carmichael? You do not think something has happened to her.

Let us to the Hart, Mercy said, wrapping her arm through Faith’s. Perhaps Sally is there. We can ask her. The girls picked up their pace down Church Lane and then took a left onto High Street. On the next block, The White Hart Inn and Tavern sat diagonally on the corner of High Street and the Clacton Road. Faith and Mercy ran across the street as a chilly spring wind swirled around them.

They entered through the tavern door. Mrs. Carmichael stood behind the bar top, a wet rag in her hand. She took one look at them and burst out, Oh, my lord, what are you doing here?

What are you doing here? Faith asked. Mrs. Carmichael, who is that dreadful creature at the parsonage?

Mrs. Carmichael came from around the bar and wrapped the two girls in a giant hug. Oh, my stars. I cannot begin to tell you what has happened. She prodded them toward a table in the rear of the tavern. Sit down do, for a cup and a biscuit. Her smile pleaded with the girls to accept, then she turned and headed toward the kitchen.

Faith looked at Mercy and began to untie the ribbons at the neck of her cape. I am desperate to hear what Mrs. Carmichael has to say. Who was that woman at the parsonage?

Mercy nodded. As am I, dearest, but one of us must return to the Park. You stay and have tea. I will explain to Lady Catherine where you are. But promise you will return directly. An hour, dearest, no longer.

Faith took Mercy’s hand. Yes, of course. Just an hour. She leaned over and kissed Mercy’s cheek. Thank you.

Mercy left the tavern.

Faith settled the skirts of her day gown after she slid into the booth. What in the world would Mrs. Carmichael tell her? Faith was generally not a gossipmonger, but this concerned her. Since the very day she met Peter Williams two years before, Faith had lost her heart. Last summer after they had arrived at Dunbury Park, Peter was nothing but solicitous and kind. Lady Catherine had him and the Reverend Linke to tea and luncheon quite often.

Faith admired Peter’s deep devotion to his beliefs and his concern to help others. She liked his calm, peaceful manner, and respected his intelligence. Peter Williams was much admired in the parish and his sermons deemed inspirational. Faith did not want to say she had fallen in love with him, but she thought she might, because when she compared Peter Williams to Bryan Thorpe, the Earl of Helmsway, who was perfect, her heart remained with Peter.

Mrs. Carmichael hustled through the tavern holding a tray, rattling the porcelain as she plunked it on the table. There. She wiped her brow with a handkerchief and then slid into the booth. She looked up and smiled at Faith. Where is Mercy?

I’m afraid she needed to return to the Park, Faith said.

So, tell me, when did you arrive? Mrs. Carmichael poured each of them a cup of tea.

But two days ago. Faith picked up the sugar tongs and dropped two cubes into her cup. Lady Catherine wished us to settle in before we went visiting. She wanted us to acclimate to our surroundings.

What does that mean? Mrs. Carmichael poured cream into her cup and then handed the pitcher to Faith.

I believe it has something to do with Uncle Henry. Faith poured her cream and returned the pitcher to the tray.

Uncle Henry? Mrs. Carmichael asked. Henry Wade has returned?

Yes, he has. Last November. He was made the Minister of London Security. He took his seat in Parliament when they reconvened in January.

Well, that is very exciting.

Faith waved her hand. "Yes, it is, but the question still remains, what are you doing here?"

Mrs. Carmichael took a deep sigh and let it out slowly. I can hardly tell you. One minute I was pulling a loaf of the Reverend’s favorite bread out of the oven, the next I was being asked to hand over my apron and the keys. A letter had come down from the Bishop explaining that Mrs. Taylor would now be the housekeeper for the parsonage. I was given a small annuity and shown to the door.

Faith gasped. They could not be so cruel.

No, they were not. Mrs. Carmichael sighed. The Reverend and Mr. Williams were very nice. Even Mrs. Taylor felt sympathetic to my state. I cannot fault her. It is the Bishop’s decree. I cannot go against the Bishop.

No, you cannot, Faith said. But I cannot help wonder at the suddenness of it all. When did Mrs. Taylor arrive?

January the twenty-first, Mrs. Carmichael said. I will never forget the date.

Neither would Faith. Uncle Henry had crossed the woolsack at Parliament that day. They held a grand dinner at Dunbury Manor that evening for her uncle. Was the date a strange coincidence? But if not, what could Uncle Henry possibly have to do with Mrs. Carmichael’s dismissal?

What is she like? Faith asked. Is she married? She sipped her tea and waited.

She is a widow and very nice. Kind. Quiet. Not like me, I daresay. Keeps to herself. Mrs. Carmichael bit into a biscuit and chewed. She is well-liked in the village.

Does she have children?

No.

Faith sipped her tea. And what does Reverend Linke have to say about the change?

He was very sorry. We had been together nearly twenty years. But, the times must keep up with progress, I s’pose.

And what about Mr. Williams, Faith said. How does he feel about the new housekeeper?

He has no complaints other than he is still partial to my cooking. Mrs. Carmichael smiled.

But why you are working here? Faith asked.

What would I do all day if I could not work? Mrs. Carmichael took a sip of her tea. Moreover, how would I hear the talk about town? Mrs. Carmichael laughed.

Mrs. Carmichael had always known everything that went on among the four villages that surrounded the thousand hectares of Dunbury Park.

Faith picked up her cup and finished her tea. She set it in the saucer and slid from the booth. Mrs. Carmichael, thank you so much for all your news, but I must return to the Park. Lady Catherine will be in uproar if I am too late.

Of course, Mrs. Carmichael said. It was lovely to see you.

Faith wrapped her arms around the older woman. And you as well. Perhaps we shall all come in for luncheon one day. Faith put on her cape and bonnet.

That would be lovely. Mrs. Carmichael picked up the tray. Give my regards to Lady Catherine.

Of course, Faith said. She left the tavern and, as she walked across the front yard, a girl shouted for her to wait.

Faith turned. Sally Jenkinson, daughter of the owners of The White Hart, ran toward her.

I thought it was you, Sally cried. She wrapped Faith in a hug. When did you arrive?

But two days ago, Faith said. Are you well? And your family?

We are all very well. Sally wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Do you have time for a cup?

No, forgive me. I’m afraid I cannot stay. I promised Mercy I would return to the Park within the hour. Mrs. Carmichael has used up my allotted time. But come tomorrow. Come up to the Park at eleven. We shall all be very merry indeed.

Yes, all right. Tomorrow at eleven. Sally returned to the tavern.

Faith walked quickly through the village and then up the long drive to Dunbury Park. The wind was brisk and she now regretted the earlier walk to the parsonage. If she had curbed her enthusiasm for Mr. Williams, perhaps she would not be feeling so low this very moment. Her ears, nose, and throat hurt very much indeed. And her eyes had not stopped watering since she left the tavern.

At the house, Faith found her sisters and cousins with Lady Catherine and Uncle Henry in the parlour.

’Tis about time you returned, her uncle said. I was just about to send out a party to search for you.

Faith glanced at his face. His countenance wore a serious expression. I am sorry. I saw Sally in the dooryard as I left. We chatted a few minutes. Faith held back a sneeze. If Lady Catherine caught wind of her illness, she would not be allowed any entertainments until she was well. And Sally was coming on the morrow.

How is Mrs. Carmichael? Lady Catherine asked.

She is very well indeed considering the circumstances. Faith explained about the Bishop’s letter and Mrs. Taylor taking Mrs. Carmichael’s place as housekeeper at the parsonage.

That is rather sudden, is it not? asked Hope.

Rather not like a Bishop, Uncle Henry murmured under his breath.

Faith didn’t think so either. Why would a bishop care to change the housekeeper of a parsonage in a village with less than two hundred occupants? Especially with one so beautiful? Although, Faith couldn’t really fault Mrs. Taylor for her countenance. Could she?

Faith looked at Lady Catherine. I have asked Sally to come tomorrow at eleven. Suddenly, she felt as if she might swoon. Faith clutched the back of the chair to keep herself from falling.

Fine, dearest, Lady Catherine said. Now, what else did Mrs. Carmichael have to say?

Her dismissal from the parsonage was all, Faith said. I did tell her we would be down to luncheon soon. She could hold it in no longer and let go of a loud sneeze.

God bless you, Faith, Lady Catherine said. Yes, luncheon at the Hart is a fine idea,

Uncle Henry looked at Lady Catherine. I thought you had an aversion to dining out.

Only in London, Lady Catherine said. Last summer we ate at The White Hart nearly twice a month. And took in the assemblies in Weeley Proper. Mercy thought we should meet the neighbors.

Which is how you met Helmsway, Uncle Henry said. He looked at Faith.

Yes, it is how we met the Earl. Faith wanted to crawl behind the pianoforte. Instead, she sneezed again.

God bless you, child, Lady Catherine said. Dearest, are you unwell? She rose from the sofa, walked to Faith, and placed her palm on Faith’s forehead. You are burning up.

Faith sneezed again. She could hide it no longer. Forgive me. I believe I might have caught a chill. She dragged her shawl closer around her shoulders.

Well, up to bed with you then, Lady Catherine said. You cannot be ill if you are expecting company on the morrow. She rose from her seat and proceeded to the bell. I will have Mrs. Partridge make you some broth.

Faith cast a glance at Mercy and nodded for her to follow.

I will just walk Faith upstairs, Mercy said.

The two girls left the room and walked through the vast expanse of the old bailey. Lady Catherine had always thought it would make a wonderful ballroom. Up the stairs, Faith sneezed again as they gained the second floor.

You are very ill, Mercy said.

I believe I am, Faith said. In her room now, Faith crawled onto her bed fully clothed. Could you find me an extra blanket? She untied the laces of her half-boots, kicked them off, burrowed under the covers, and tried to stop her chattering teeth.

Mercy opened the armoire in the corner and dug a blanket from the bottom of the cupboard. She flung it over Faith. Dearest, I do believe you have what Uncle Henry had before we departed for the Park. I must inform Lady Catherine. Mercy left the room.

Faith lay in the bed shivering, wondering about Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Williams. If Mrs. Taylor was as nice as Mrs. Carmichael said, would he even have thought about Faith while she had been in London over the winter? It could not be denied that Mrs. Taylor was beautiful. And nearer to Peter’s own age. And widowed.

Lady Catherine had allowed Peter to bestow his affections on Faith last summer hoping for a match when Faith turned eight-and-ten. But now that Uncle Henry had returned, would he allow Peter’s suit? Faith prayed he would. At least Peter did not hold her up to a higher standard as the Earl of Helmsway did. Peter accepted Faith for who she was. The penniless daughter of a disgraced duke.

Chapter Two

Peter Williams helped Reverend Jeremy Linke from the carriage. Are you sure you wish to stop here? Peter looked at the faded sign hanging above the entrance to The White Hart.

We must see Mrs. Carmichael, Reverend Linke said.

Do you not think that will offend Mrs. Taylor? Peter asked. She is likely awaiting our return this moment. Peter tied the horse to the post in front.

Reverend Linke smiled. I am merely offering solace to one of our lambs. The Reverend walked toward the tavern door.

Peter followed the Pastor into the establishment knowing it wasn’t so much solace he would offer, but a cup of toddy he would seek for his old bones. Riding in the carriage on chilly mornings was an employment the elderly man did not relish.

Mrs. Carmichael wore a wide smile. I have the most wonderful news, she said. The Marquess of Dunbury has returned!

Henry Wade? Reverend Linke asked. Well, bless my soul! That is good news indeed. How did you hear of it?

The Ladies Mercy and Faith chanced to stop here, Mrs. Carmichael said.

Faith had returned! Peter sucked in a deep breath to slow his wildly beating heart. Faith was everything that Peter had ever looked for in a woman. Perfect in every way—her only negative aspect—she was a duke’s daughter and he merely the third son of a Viscount. Now that the Marquess had returned, would Peter be allowed to offer for her?

Is Lady Catherine here as well? Reverend Linke asked.

Yes. They arrived but only two days ago.

Perhaps we should call on them, Peter said. Had the girls had made their come-out? Had Faith met someone over the winter? Was she engaged? He needed to know.

Reverend Linke looked thoughtful. Yes, I daresay you’re right. Come along then, Peter. Shall we away to the Park? With no set time for our arrival, I’m sure Mrs. Taylor will not miss us for another quarter hour.

The men said good-bye to Mrs. Carmichael and set off in the carriage. As they pulled up in front of the house, two formidable looking men stepped off the front stoop.

Peter set the brake on the carriage, climbed down, and helped Reverend