A Nettle By Any Other Name
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Helen Marie, Lady Stormont, longs to improve educational opportunities for the bluestockings of Highgate. Though her contemporaries scoff at her idea, she plans to open a home just for the girls, where they can study without interruptions. Thinking she’ll be alone in her endeavors, she’s thrilled when her close friend Talbot Yelverton happily agrees to help her.
Talbot Yelverton, Earl of Godolphin, has a secret—he’s been in love with his friend Helen his entire life. Though he longs to tell her of his feelings, he’s afraid he’ll be rebuffed since she’s years his senior. Will Helen still think of him as the lad who followed her around when they were young? Will it advance his suit if he helps her fund the bluestocking house, or is he still hiding behind conventions while courting an unconventional lady?
Ruth J. Hartman
Ruth J. Hartman spends her days herding cats and her nights spinning mysterious tales. She, her husband, and their cats love to spend time curled up in their recliners watching old Cary Grant movies. Well, the cats sit in the people's recliners. Not that the cats couldn't get their own furniture. They just choose to shed on someone else's.Ruth, a left-handed, cat-herding, farmhouse-dwelling writer uses her sense of humor as she writes tales of lovable, klutzy women who seem to find trouble without even trying.Ruth's husband and best friend, Garry, reads her manuscripts, rolls his eyes at her weird story ideas, and loves her despite her insistence all of her books have at least one cat in them.
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A Nettle By Any Other Name - Ruth J. Hartman
A Nettle By Any Other Name
Ruth J. Hartman
A Christmas Bouquet novella
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2018 by Ruth J. Hartman
Dingbat Publishing
Humble, Texas
A NETTLE BY ANY OTHER NAME
Copyright © 2018 by Ruth J. Hartman
Published by Dingbat Publishing
Humble, Texas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this book can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are entirely the produce of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual locations, events, or organizations is coincidental.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
About the Author
Also by Ruth J. Hartman
To all those who find their true love, even if it’s in the autumn of life.
Chapter One
Viscountess Stormont, Helen Marie, Lady Stormont, stepped closer to her cook. Brushing aside an unruly lock of hair from her cheek, Helen said, Since the fête is coming up, I must make plans. The food must be spectacular, as this is sure to be a well-attended event. I expect even more guests this year than last. My schedule for getting the menu completed is a month behind for the December fifteenth celebration. Why does it seem I’m always scrambling to finish details for something I host every single year? It isn’t as if the party was a surprise.
The cook didn’t give an answer. Not that one was expected. Was it Helen’s imagination, or had the other woman discreetly rolled her eyes? It wouldn’t be the first time. Helen was famous for good intentions and poor but well-meaning attempts at keeping everything organized and done in a timely fashion. Her servants were well used to her idiosyncrasies. But Helen, being of a certain age in her fifties, was too old to act differently now.
The fête, given in honor of the opening of the winter garden planted by the Royal Horticultural Society, needed to outshine recent parties. Helen had her reasons, but mostly they had to do with trying to find favor with those of the ton who had a tendency to snub her.
Turning her head to gather her thoughts about food for the party, Helen’s mouth dropped open in a very unladylike way. She snapped it closed before anyone else could enter the room and witness it.
That cat.
Edwina, full of figure and sporting silver-white fur like her mistress’ hair, trotted merrily across the recently polished kitchen floor. Leaving in her wake small, untidy paw prints. Muddy ones. And if Helen wasn’t mistaken, Edwina had been grinning.
It wouldn’t do any good to follow her feisty, fluffy pet. The times Helen had tried, Edwina only skittered through the rest of the house, depositing unwanted dirty spots until her paws were free of mud. She usually ended her trail after thoroughly destroying the stairs — her favorite victim. Maybe to punish the cat, Helen should instruct the cook not to feed Edwina quite so much. The feline’s middle seemed to grow rounder every day.
But no, Helen was too soft-hearted for that. One glance at those large green eyes and long whiskers, and Helen would crumple like an un-pressed ball gown. Silly cat could get away with anything and knew it. It had been that way ever since Edwina had shown up outside the kitchen door as a waiflike half-grown cat, howling loud enough to alert all of Highgate.
At the time, the cook had tried to chase the little thing away, but Helen succumbed to the feline’s pitiful wail and took her in. The fact that Edwina was spoiled was no one’s fault but Helen’s. Even with all the mischief, she couldn’t imagine her life without her little companion. There were times, many in fact, when Edwina was the only one who would listen to Helen’s ideas.
Of course, there was no guarantee the cat was really paying attention, but one could always hope.
With a sigh, Helen turned back to the cook, who had since returned her attention to stirring a large pot of stew. Seemed the servant was used to Edwina’s trickery, too. And since it wouldn’t be the cook cleaning that particular mess, Helen left to find one of the maids to take care of it.
She found Mary dusting a high shelf in the parlor. When the maid noticed Helen standing behind her, she startled, as if caught doing something wrong. But then, the girl was new. Helen could see that having the mistress find a servant herself, instead of sending someone else to do it, might be a little disconcerting. However, Helen believed in doing certain tasks herself, wanting to be as open-minded as she could, even though most of her acquaintances weren’t that enlightened.
Mary, Edwina has once again…
She vaguely pointed toward the hall. Well, you’ll find that the trail begins in the kitchen, continues through the house, and progresses up the stairs.
With a bob of her head, the girl said, Yes, my lady.
Keeping her eyes averted and head down, the maid scurried away.
Helen had long been of the opinion that she’d like to have a better relationship with her servants than her contemporaries did. It was considered a strange idea, even wrong, by most, but then Helen was often considered strange herself. Other women she often saw at gatherings went so far as to shy away from her. Just because her ideas were different. Would people never change? At least try to see things from a new point of view?
Though she did regularly rely on several servants to take care of her needs and those of her home, Helen would love nothing better than a world where women had more say in what they did. Possess a certain amount of freedom in their male-dominated world. However, there was only so much she could do on her own. Still, she was indeed determined to help at least a handful of young ladies hopefully achieve a little independence of their own.
And she had a plan to do just that.
This time, she would remain focused and organized, even if it took all of her perseverance to do it. The outcome of her project was too important to fail. This one thing, her goal for the day, was something close to her heart. Much more significant than a party. And, if she could possibly convince some other women she knew to favor her idea, all the better.
Once the maid had been dispatched to deal with Edwina’s latest indiscretion, Helen readied herself to leave the house. Cecil, the head footman and her companion whenever she went out, had called for the carriage and was himself waiting for her at the door when she alighted the stairs.
Ready to depart, Cecil?
Helen waved her gloved hand toward the door.
With a slight smile, he gave a single nod. Yes, my lady.
Perhaps her question seemed redundant, considering the fact that he had been waiting for her to get ready, himself dressed to go out and standing patiently by the entrance. Sometimes — no, make that often — Helen’s words flew out of her mouth without a sensible accompanying thought.
Which was never good.
Thank goodness Cecil had been with her for more years than she could remember. He’d surely grown used to her often unusual words and ideas. In all appearances, at least, he seemed to endure her whims.
At least someone