Thorncroft Manor: Romance With a Kiss of Suspense

By Vicki Hopkins

Caroline Woodard was convinced that she would die a spinster. Her headstrong personality was not her best quality or an attractive female characteristic to eligible Englishmen. 

Upon her cousin's invitation to be her maid of honor, she travels to Pendeen, a small village on the Cornwall coast of England. Soon after her arrival, Caroline is introduced to Bramwell Croft, who will be the best man. Even though he is a wealthy owner of a tin mine, Caroline finds him to be a brooding and disagreeable individual. Instantly, their personalities clash like the tempestuous sea that pounds the rocky coastline. 

When she is forced to spend more time at Thorncroft than she would like, she finds herself strangely intrigued and attracted to the gloomy lord of the manor. However, as time goes by, Caroline cannot help but wonder if she will be his next victim of seduction or perhaps murder. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vicki Hopkins
• Release date: Jun 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781732097131

Vicki Hopkins

Vicki started her writing career somewhat late in life, but can attest to the fact that it is never too late to follow your dreams. Her debut novel was released in 2009, and six books later and another on the way, she doesn't think she will stop any time soon. She is an award-winning and best selling author in historical sagas/historical romance.​With Russian blood on her father's side and English on her mother's, she blames her ancestors for the lethal combination in her genes that influence her stories. Tragedy and drama might be found between her pages, but she eventually gives her readers a happy ending.She lives in the beautiful, but rainy, Pacific Northwest with a pesky cat who refuses to let her sleep in. Her hobbies include researching her English ancestry, traveling to England when she can afford it, and plotting her next book.

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Thorncroft Manor

Romance with a Kiss of Suspense

2nd Edition - Copyright © 2019

by

Vicki Hopkins

(Formerly released under the pen name of Nora Covington)

ISBN 978-1-7320971-3-1

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019905978

Published by Red Brick Media

Hillsboro, OR

All Rights Reserved.

This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.

eBook Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then please purchase your copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of all authors.

Work of Fiction

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 any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dedication

To my mother, Nora.

(September 21, 1912 – February 1, 2000)

Maid of Honor

Caroline Woodard pouted as she sat with her arms crossed. A shiver ran down her spine from the damp interior of the carriage that jostled and jolted down the muddy lane. Every pothole caused her bottom to bounce up and down, and each turn swayed her body to and fro.

For goodness’ sake, Bernice, move over. Caroline jabbed her sister with her left elbow.

Ouch! she bellowed in return. It is a small carriage. Where would you have me move? Out the door?

Girls, Mrs. Woodard interjected, scowling at the squabbling sisters. I expect you to behave like ladies instead of children. Constrain your bickering.

Constrain? Caroline balked. This entire trip occurs at an inconvenient time of the year. It is cold and damp, pouring rain, and I am miserably cramped in this old and rickety carriage. Caroline wondered if a wheel would fall off at any moment, sending three women careening to a muddy death.

So noted, her mother replied indifferently. It shall not be long, and we will soon be at Aunt Muriel’s. You can warm yourself by the fireplace in her parlor.

The pouring rain pounded the rooftop like falling pebbles from the sky. Caroline brushed her wrinkled skirt with the palm of her hand, lamenting the state of her dress. The first half of their excursion had been by train. At the end of the line, they hired a coach to Pendeen, a small town on the Cornwall coast, where her mother’s sister resided. Caroline could not comprehend why her aunt insisted on living there. The family had tried to persuade her to relocate after the passing of her husband, but she would hear nothing of it. In defense, she rattled on about how she adored the sea and how the weather was more amicable than London. As the torrential rain pounded the coach, and the wind whistled by the window, Caroline doubted the accuracy of her claims.

Caroline perhaps would not have complained so vehemently about the discomfort had the trip been any other time of the year. In a few days, Georgina her cousin would marry. She had captured the heart of Darby Wilson, an intelligent and handsome young man. After finishing his university studies, he secured an advantageous position at a bank in London. Career-minded, levelheaded, perfect manners, and a pleasing appearance, Caroline could not help but be envious. Good fortune had shined upon her cousin, finding an excellent match in a village that brimmed with filthy miners who toiled in the dark holes in the earth on the Cornwall coast.

Naturally, Caroline could not refuse the invitation to be Georgina’s maid of honor. Though they lived far from one another, the young ladies regularly wrote letters. Caroline bemoaned her inability to find a husband, while Georgina wrote of her courtship with Darby. After the wedding and romantic honeymoon, Darby promised to spirit her away to culture and society in London. The cousins would enjoy each other’s company more often, and Caroline would have a close confidant nearby. Speaking with her little sister and mother about personal affairs had been out of the question.

An underlying irritation not related to the weather, however, contributed to Caroline’s poor attitude as the carriage continued towards its destination. There was no doubt that she loved Georgina dearly and wished her every happiness. Nevertheless, the emotion of jealousy buzzed around Caroline’s heart like an annoying gnat that would not fly away. Frequently she swatted the sentiment only to find it returning to torment her again. No wonder she was miserable beyond comprehension.

The sting of envy wounded Caroline’s heart, reminding her how she had floundered like a fish in pursuit of a husband. Seasons had come and gone, but she remained unwed. Now nearly twenty-five and passing her prime for matrimony, Caroline dreaded that she dangerously neared the age of becoming an old maid. Next year’s census would bear the word spinster in big, bold letters on the register of household occupants at 52 Hampton Road, London.

As far as her mother had been concerned, Caroline had no one to blame but herself. She often termed her daughter’s personality as prickly and fussy when it came to male suitors.

A young woman should not expect too much from the union except security and protection from a husband, she would rant. It’s no wonder the men scatter when they see you, Caroline. You have a reputation of being conceited, and when you do open your mouth, you are too outspoken for the female gender. Men don’t care to have a domineering wife.

Even her father sternly urged her to curb her opinions and wild imaginations.

If you would stop yakking with uninhibited conversation and acted more demure, you might find a decent match, his voice scolded. Your words are like vinegar when they should be as honey in the ears of a man.

Her mother’s outdated opinion that marriage was a matter of convenience and a necessity for survival did not sit well in Caroline’s mind. Nor did Caroline particularly care to change her personality either. Why couldn’t she find a man who would challenge her in return? Like any other woman, she wanted to marry for love and not for necessity. If Georgina succeeded in finding a husband, surely somewhere in all of England a match existed.

It’s not as if she hadn’t been courted by any male before. Peter Redding found her to be an interesting young lady, and he wooed her for three months. To her shame, though, Caroline discovered too late that he possessed a reputation of being rogue. The thought of him made her squirm in her seat, so she quickly discarded the abysmal memory.

Caroline glanced at her mother, wondering how she had endured marriage throughout the years. As a couple, her parents rarely displayed overt affection toward one another. Nuptials for security and protection had been her mother’s motive rather than love.

As a result, Caroline’s father rarely accompanied them anywhere. He chose not to attend her cousin’s wedding, remaining in London, using some pretext that his rheumatism would act up near the sea air. She suspected he spent time with his business cronies, drinking and talking politics while they were away. Growing into adulthood, she saw little of her father as he traveled and busied himself as an importer of fabrics, including wool, silk, and other exotic blends. Being a successful entrepreneur, he comfortably provided for the family. Caroline had not wanted for anything, growing up an exquisite townhome in London. Although she hadn’t a drop of blue blood in her, their financial status placed them in the upper-middle class of society. You would think a young lady, such as herself, with decent connections, would be able to find a husband.

Caroline rubbed the misty moisture off the coach window with the palm of her hand and peered outside. She recognized the passing shops that gave way to houses on the outskirts of the village. They were drawing near to her aunt’s residence. Caroline glanced at her mother and chuckled. Apparently, the rocking of the carriage had lulled her asleep, and a soft snore rattled her vocal cords.

Mother, she said, reaching over and patting her arm. We’re almost to auntie’s house.

Bernice giggled, which roused her mother awake.

Oh, dear! She straightened her posture and fixed her bonnet that had fallen to one side. I cannot believe I fell asleep.

The carriage wheels slowed and finally came to a halt. Caroline bemoaned the torrential downpour outside. Oh, look at the rain. We will catch our death of cold as I have no parasol. Caroline pulled a scarf around her neck, anticipating the opening of the door and a burst of cold air.

Caroline, look! It’s Darby with an umbrella coming to get us, screeched Bernice.

He is such a darling gentleman. God bless the man, Mrs. Woodard said.

The door flung open, and Darby poked his head inside. Ladies, welcome. He grinned at each individually. Let me escort you indoors one by one under the protection of this fine umbrella.

Caroline glanced at the door and spotted Georgina standing in the threshold with a broad smile on her face. She glowed like an angel. Darby’s handsome appearance stirred the jealousy gnat.

Come along, Mrs. Woodard. Let me escort you first. Darby reached out his hand and helped her mother from the carriage. The heavy rain bounced off the smooth blacktop of the umbrella. A moment later, after seeing her safely indoors, he sprinted back.

Who’s next? He glanced at Bernice and then Caroline.

Oh, let me! Bernice grabbed his hand before Caroline could say a word.

Darby nodded at Caroline and gave her wink. Be right back.

After delivering giggling Bernice, Darby returned. Come on, young lady, your cousin cannot wait to see you.

Darby grasped her hand tightly and helped her exit. The path ahead lay spotted with puddles, and Caroline lifted her skirt, avoiding the multiple pools that stretched between the carriage and the doorway.

Here you are, my love. One cousin safely delivered, Darby announced.

Caroline! Georgina squealed and hugged her tightly, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

The enthusiastic greeting nearly knocked the breath from Caroline’s lungs. After Caroline gave her cousin a peck on the cheek in return, she stepped back at arm’s length. The glow of being in love overflowed from every pore of her cousin’s body. A tightness in Caroline’s chest made it hard to breathe. It would be a joyous occasion to see her cousin wed, but on the other hand, it would be a torturous reminder that she had failed.

I will see that the luggage is brought in and taken to your room, ladies, Darby said, quickly disappearing with the umbrella once more.

Oh, Caroline, it is so good to see you, Georgina continued to fuss.

And you, Caroline replied, eyeing her cousin up and down. Georgina, you look—well, you look absolutely radiant.

I’m so happy, darling. My heart is bursting with joy.

Well, I hope that it stops raining by the end of the week, or your wedding day will flood, Caroline replied. It would be a horrible omen should it rain on her wedding day. No bride wishes for a wet wedding.

I’m sure it will be divine, her cousin quickly dismissed. By the morrow, the sun will reappear.

Caroline, so good of you to come. Muriel approached and gave her a welcoming embrace. I was telling your mother how happy I am to have you here on such a cheerful occasion.

Hello, Aunt Muriel, Caroline responded by kissing both her cheeks. Please tell me this dreadful rain will stop. She noted the glow on her aunt’s face, too, and wondered if the entire family been touched by a magic wand of happiness.

Muriel laughed aloud. Oh, dearie, I am sure it will. She reached out and took her hand. Now, come and warm yourself by the fire in the parlor and have some tea.

The sound of the crackling wood and the heat of the fire created a cozy atmosphere in the small room. Caroline sat on the settee next to her mother, and the maid arrived with a tray of tea and cakes.

Please, help yourselves to some refreshment, her aunt offered.

Darby returned with suitcases in tow, making two trips, and running upstairs to deposit their belongings. Afterward, he joined them, sounding a bit out of breath. Raindrops spotted his trousers, and his tousled hair accented his handsome features. As a lock fell on his forehead, he took both hands and smoothed the stray strands back in place.

He walked over and stood by the wing-backed chair occupied by his fiancée. When he placed his hand on her shoulder, Georgina could see the sparkle of adoration in his gaze for her cousin. It amazed Caroline to observe the look of love in a man’s eyes, and she felt strangely mesmerized, watching the two interact with one another. Frankly, she had never seen anything like it, even between her parents.

Georgina’s perky joy overflowed. Oh, Caroline, I cannot wait to take you up to my room and show you my wedding trousseau, she exclaimed.

Can I see it too? Darby interjected with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

No, you may not. You know very well, Darby Wilson, it is bad luck to see your bride in the dress before the wedding.

"Ooh,