The Unsuitable Heiress: The Ashcombe Heiresses, #3

By Juliane Karlis

She's never been accepted in society. Until now.

Elnora knows and loves every inch of the Ashcombe estate, but as the illegitimate granddaughter of old Mr. Ashcombe she knows she is an unsuitable—even impossible—choice for its future mistress.

But when her grandfather's will is read Elnora discovers she has a chance to be the Ashcombe heiress after all! There's just one condition: she must find a suitable husband—within three months. 

With the man she's loved since childhood cast in the role of unwilling adviser, she must make a choice. Will she accept a suitor to secure the estate and a respectable place in society, or will she follow her heart, even at the cost of her beloved home?

This sweet and clean historical Regency romance will keep you entertained and leave you satisfied with a delightful happily-ever-after!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mint & Romance
• Release date: Mar 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393744481

Juliane Karlis

I like my romance the way I like my mint tea: Pure and refreshing, warm and sweet... yet with that special, invigorating something that keeps you coming back for more. I invite you to join me in my quest for Mint & Romance!  ♥ Juliane

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by Juliane Karlis. All rights reserved.

For more information, please visit the author’s website.

1

Ashcombe Manor, Jamaica

June 1802

So this is my half-sister, Elnora thought.

Ten-year-old Elnora and her kitten, Shadows, crouched behind the hedge and peered through the leaves at the little girl. A twig snapped beneath her foot, and she drew back quickly, her mother’s voice echoing in her head: Stay out of their way. If you’re seen near the manor house it will only bring trouble. Mother’s pretty dark face had been a little sad, a little resentful, and always determined. Now that determination was to keep herself and her daughter far, far away from the manor house while the master’s son, his wife, and three-year-old daughter visited from England.

The master’s son—that’s how Elnora thought of him, though he was her father. He wasn’t a proper father—not the way he was father to the delicate little blonde girl tripping through the garden and prattling to her adoring mother and hovering nurse. Elnora sighed and twisted a dark curl around and around her finger. How could she, an awkward ten-year-old, compete with a charming three-year-old like her half-sister? She couldn’t. She knew her mother was right.

She knew she should stay away.

And yet, she watched from behind the shielding leaves, thrilling with the adventure of seeing without being seen.

Arabella, my love, I’m going back to the house for a minute, said her father’s wife, a nervous-looking woman as delicate and fair-haired as her daughter. You’ll be good for nurse, now, won’t you? The little girl nodded, and her mother turned back to the house. Elnora saw with interest that as soon as the mother was out of sight the nurse became less attentive to her young charge.

I’m going to sit here and have a nice little rest, she announced, taking possession of a long, low bench under a spreading shade tree. This foreign heat and sunshine! It’s really too much for a body to get used to all at once! She waved her hands before her plump, flushed face. Now you be good, Miss, and don’t wander away. The little girl nodded solemnly and the nurse closed her eyes, settling herself against the tree with a contented sigh.

As soon as the nurse’s breathing turned slow and even, Arabella darted around a corner of the hedge and down one of the many paths winding through the huge gardens. Elnora scrambled through the bushes to keep up with her, heedless of the twigs that caught at her hair and clothes. Her mother wouldn’t be happy, but she’d deal with that later.

The little girl’s exploration led them to the back of the gardens where the grounds were less manicured and left to their natural habitat. She halted at the edge of a little clearing that sloped down to a small lake. A few boards stretched out into the lake as a sort of makeshift dock. Elnora knew because she had spent many fascinating hours there, lying on her stomach and staring into the amber water at the little wriggling things living just below the surface. She also knew it was not a place where a curious three-year-old ought to roam by herself. What choice did she have?

She stepped out from behind the trees and walked toward the little girl with Shadows capering behind her. Arabella watched her without surprise, as if there was nothing strange about a scrawny ten-year-old emerging from the brush, her hair full of twigs and leaves, her bare feet coated in dust, and a half-grown kitten trying to crawl up the side of her skirt.

Hello, said the little girl. Who are you?

Elnora paused. She had often pondered this question, and was never sure of the correct answer, especially now. Who was she to this little girl?—a servant’s daughter?—her sister? I’m Elnora, she said simply. The little girl seemed satisfied, and then her honey-brown eyes traveled gravely from the top of Elnora’s dark, curly head to her dusty bare feet. Suddenly Elnora realized how wild and unkempt she must look—such a contrast to her little half-sister’s carefully coordinated outfit and smooth hair.

Mama will scold me until sundown if I come home looking like this, Elnora thought. She picked at the twigs in her hair, smoothed her skirt and tried to beat the dust from its hem, Shadows batting at the leaves that clung to the edge of her gown as if it were a new, delightful game.

There. That was a little better. As for her dusty bare feet—well, the lake was nearby, and the dock just the right height to sit and dangle her feet in the cool water. If she washed them before retrieving her shoes and stockings from where she’d stashed them in the middle of a bush, she should be presentable enough to avoid a scolding. Arabella seemed to lose interest in the strange, wild girl from the trees and began to wander down a dwindling, overgrown path leading deeper into the trees beyond the garden.

Wait, Elnora called, come back to the house with me! The girl stopped and looked at her, but made no effort to come back. Elnora sighed. I’m going to wash my feet, and then we are going back to the house, she said, trying to use her mother’s firm, no-nonsense tone that always made Elnora jump to attention. Arabella only watched curiously as Elnora stepped onto the dock and perched on the edge, dipping her feet into the water. Shadows stood on the bank and mewed in protest, but Arabella’s eyes lit up and she ran down the path to join Elnora on the narrow, rickety boards.

Wait! Elnora cried as the little girl bounced across the planks. Be careful! Arabella giggled and gave a few extra bounces. Elnora could feel the whole dock shaking, and as soon as the little girl was within reach she took hold of her skirts and pulled her close, an arm wrapped around Arabella’s waist. You don’t want to fall into the deep, deep water, she said. You have to be careful. Arabella pointed at Elnora’s bare feet.

My feet are hot, she said. I want to feel the water, too!

Well, it was a warm day. It couldn’t hurt—she’d help Arabella take her shoes and stockings off, splash about for a few minutes—she was sure the child’s attention span wouldn’t last much longer—and then take her back to the house.

If you want to put your feet in the water, you must sit down here very carefully, Elnora instructed, and immediately Arabella plopped down on the dock next to her and obligingly held her feet out as Elnora took off her soft leather shoes and white stockings. On the girl’s ankle was a brown spot, like a splash of coffee. Elnora rubbed her own brown finger over it a few times before she realized it was a birthmark, not a smudge. She raised her dark eyes to find Arabella’s honey-brown ones staring right into her own. The little girl patted her hand and smiled, and suddenly Elnora felt a rush of affection for her. Though they might look different from each other in so many ways, they were sisters—or, half-sisters, at least—and she wrapped her arms around Arabella in a quick embrace before swinging her feet over the edge and into the cool water of the lake. The little girl giggled and kicked her legs, splashing water over both of them.

Careful! Elnora said again, thinking of the scolding that would follow if she brought the little girl home drenched and muddy. Arabella only giggled and kicked harder, sending another spray of cool water into the air. Well, if we are going to be wet anyway, we might as well have some fun, Elnora decided, and with a mischievous smile she leaned over, reaching into the water and lightly flicking a shower of cool drops over Arabella’s bare arms. The girl kicked again, but unsatisfied with the splashes made by her tiny feet she leaned over to put her own hands in the water.

Arabella! Be careful! Elnora shrieked. She clutched for Arabella’s white pinafore just a moment too late. With a splash and a cry of terror that was cut off in a gurgle, Arabella’s golden curls disappeared beneath the water. Almost before she could think, Elnora launched herself off the dock after her half-sister, grasping the child’s flailing body and lifting her head above the surface. The lake wasn’t very deep, but the end of the dock brought them just a few steps beyond Elnora’s depth. Even so, she wasn’t frightened. She could easily pull herself up onto the dock or swim the few feet to shallower water.

At least, under normal circumstances she could. She hadn’t reckoned with the added complication of a hysterical three-year-old, whose weight and flailing, grasping limbs hampered her every move. Arabella, be calm, Elnora gasped, struggling to keep their heads above water. Stop struggling! A seed of panic began to grow in her. Now the visions dancing before her eyes were not of the scolding she’d get when she brought the little heiress home sopping and draped in lake weed, but what would happen when their parents realized they were missing; when they were discovered floating lifeless in the lake. Her mother would be blamed, of course.

She couldn’t let that happen!

Elnora renewed her struggles to pull them to shallower water, adding her own cries to Arabella’s shrieks. Help! Somebody! Help! Hel— she gagged on a mouthful of water as Arabella’s elbow caught her in the face, and just as she slipped beneath the water for what she was sure must be the last time, a figure darted from the trees and sprinted toward the dock. A boy’s hand reached down into the water and grasped Elnora’s arm, hauling her the few feet to shallower water. She scrambled to get her feet under her, then staggered out of the lake, still clutching Arabella. Elnora was relieved to see that Arabella had her breath and was now wailed loudly, her face a picture of woe as water and duckweed ran down it in damp, green rivulets, catching in her bedraggled curls and staining her white pinafore. The boy’s hand stayed firmly on Elnora’s arm to guide her as he walked along the dock and steadied them in their progress to shore. When Elnora at last reached shore, her legs suddenly trembled so she sank to the ground, Arabella in her arms. Their rescuer knelt beside them.

Are you all right? he asked. Elnora nodded. She attempted to smile, but her smile wobbled and she was afraid she might cry instead.

This is a pretty spot, the boy said conversationally. If I were the master here, I’d build it up with a nicer dock, and perhaps a little pavilion to house young ladies who have had the misfortune to fall in the water. Elnora managed to give a weak giggle at his words, and the boy smiled, pleased that he’d distracted her from her worries. He had a nice smile, Elnora thought as she looked at him properly for the first time. He was a pale, fair-haired boy in his middle teens—almost a young man in Elnora’s ten-year-old eyes—and his face was full of concern as he looked at the bedraggled pair of girls. Arabella gulped in a lungful of air and set up another long, loud wail. The boy smiled. She can’t have swallowed too much water if she can make a noise like that, he said.

We’re all right now, thanks to you, Elnora said, putting a curious emphasis on the word; she thought she knew everyone who worked in the house or immediate grounds of Ashcombe Estate, but this boy was unfamiliar.

I’m Eddie—Edward—Mr. Manley, I suppose. He scratched his head bashfully, a flush spreading over his pale cheeks. I’m the nephew of Mr. Ashcombe’s secretary and have come to be his assistant.

Oh! Elnora said. So now you will belong to the estate, too!

I suppose you could say so, he replied. And may I ask whom I have had the honor of rescuing?

This is Arabella, Mr. Ashcombe’s daughter—the younger Mr. Ashcombe, I mean, and I’m Elnora. Just Elnora. It was simplest to leave it at that. Edward offered a hand to help her to her feet, and then he crouched down before the wailing three-year-old. Ah, now I recognize you, Miss Arabella, he said. The little girl paused in her wailing as she heard her name. I saw you on the ship, though I’m sure you don’t remember me. He looked up at Elnora. Well, Miss Elnora, Miss Arabella, may I offer to escort you home? Arabella’s tears began to fall again.

It’s too far! she cried. "My legs are too, too tired!"

Then get on my back, and I’ll carry you, Edward said.

Oh, but your clothes will get all wet! Elnora cried, but Arabella had already scrambled onto Edward’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck. Edward rose easily and smiled at Elnora.

Don’t worry, he said. It doesn’t matter. Elnora bit her lip and was silent. It was all very well for him to say—but perhaps things were different for boys, and she supposed he didn’t have a mother waiting for him who would scold him if he came home wet and muddy. Elnora sighed and followed Edward as he started down the path toward the house.

Come up here, Edward said. Walk beside me. Elnora ran a few paces to catch up and fell into step beside him as he slowed his stride to match the pace of her shorter legs. I just arrived a few days ago, he said conversationally, in fact, I arrived on the same ship as Mr. Ashcombe’s family, though of course we were not traveling together. He looked around the gardens with evident interest. Everything is so different here, so fascinating! Do you know the names of these plants? He spoke as if it was not unusual to be