A Proper Charade

  Cover images Beautiful Victorian Woman in a Summer Garden © Lee Avison / Trevillion Images. Old Fashioned Vintage Clock Watch Engraving © Alexander P. / Shutterstock

  Cover design Aleesa Parsons © 2020 by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  Published by Covenant Communications, Inc.

  American Fork, Utah

  Copyright © 2020 by Esther Hatch

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format or in any medium without the written permission of the publisher, Covenant Communications, Inc., P.O. Box 416, American Fork, UT 84003. The views expressed within this work are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Covenant Communications, Inc., or any other entity.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or are used fictitiously.

  First Printing: May 2020

  ISBN 978-1-52441-233-3

  To my Joy School mothers—Lisa, Becky, Melissa, Debbie, and April. We’ve been through a lot to get to where we are. And where we are is beautiful.

  Praise for Esther Hatch

  “Chock full of dreamy heroes, touching stories, and delightful humor, Ms. Hatch’s books remind us why we read romance in the first place.”

  —Jennifer Moore, Whitney Award-winning author

  “Esther Hatch writes swoony romance with laugh-out-loud dialogue and unforgettable characters. Once you read one of her books, you will want to read them all!”

  —Anneka Walker, author of The Masked Baron

  “Another winner from author Esther Hatch! She knows how to write a captivating story, and I was thoroughly entertained all the way through. I loved Grace and Nate and the hilarious predicaments they got themselves into. I laughed out loud several times and just enjoyed being immersed in the beautiful writing. A lovely historical romance that I highly recommend. (A Proper Scandal)”

  —Joanna Barker, author of Secrets & Suitors

  “A Proper Scandal is funny, sweet, and romantic, and it has a large twist that I never saw coming. I really enjoy Esther Hatch’s writing style. I love her characters; even the side characters are interesting and well developed.”

  —Timeless Novels

  “The Roses of Feldstone is the perfect blend of charm, wit, and romance. Rose and William will draw you in from the first page until the very last word. All the way around, a lovely read.”

  —Heather B. Moore, USA Today best-selling author

  Acknowledgments

  I need to start by thanking my family. There are a lot of things for them to deal with as we transition to me writing more and more. My family loves and supports me through all of life’s changes, and I’m grateful for them every day.

  My critique group—Laura, Alice, Paula, and Audrey—have cheered me on, brainstormed ideas, and made me start writing in the first place. Thank you.

  And now for the big list (I get a lot of help writing books). Some of these wonderful women read for me when my story was in its very beginning stages, and others read it last minute when I only gave them hours to do so. I hope you do this for your own enjoyment, but I also hope you know how much it means to me: Clarissa Wilstead, April Young, Lisa Kendrick, Mandy Biesinger, Kim Dubious—writing with you until 2 a.m. before deadline was a real thrill—Colleen Lynch, Cassidy Pace, Jamie Ann Bartlett, Lora Jean Buss, and Lynn Provost.

  Thank you to my Covenant Communications team. My editor, Ashley, has been patient and helpful as I shaped this novel into a better version of itself. Her excitement for this project has been a great motivator. The design team made a beautiful cover, and I’m lucky enough to have had Amy Parker, our publicist, a part of my team since A Proper Scandal released. Many, many others from Covenant share a part in bringing this book to the shelf. Thanks for your dedication.

  I also need to thank my mom, Elsie Mosher, and my siblings, Bobbi, Ryan, Monique, Brently, and Tammi. Reading has always been important in our family, and that is probably why three of us can’t help but write.

  And lastly, I need to thank a few friends who have listened to me as I stress, gotten me out of the house when the walls started creeping in, hosted launch parties, and showed up to signings. Heidi Maxfield, Karin Smith, and Kristen Southwick, thanks for keeping me human.

  “That which we call a rose

  By any other name would smell as sweet.”

  —William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

  Chapter 1

  “What have you done to your dress?” Nicholas’s deep baritone voice and his dark shadow sliced through the cheery light shining between the branches above Patience.

  Ollie jumped up and bounded toward Nicholas, which was unfortunate, considering Patience had been using his warm chest as a pillow.

  Traitor.

  Her head plopped down into the dirt and leaves, making not only her dress a bit of a mess but her whole person. She shifted to a sitting position on the ground. Of course her brother would find her when she was enjoying herself. Ollie was circling Nicholas’s waist, hoping to get some attention, but his treachery had done him no good. Nicholas didn’t even reach down and pet his head. With a head that nearly reached Nicholas’s waist, Olympus was the biggest Great Dane Patience had ever seen. It wouldn’t have been hard for Nicholas to give her dog a welcoming pat.

  Patience brushed a few leaves out of her hair and shrugged her shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant. Nicholas had been out of sorts since Mama came home, and Patience was never certain exactly what his mood would be. “The sun is shining, Nicholas. Do you know how long it has been since we have seen a sunny day?”

  His dark-brown eyes scanned the garden as if seeing it for the first time. For a moment, he seemed to be considering it. How could he not want to spend the afternoon outside? Her spot under the oak tree that their great-great-grandfather, the second Duke of Harrington, had planted was her favorite place to sit and find the comfort and acceptance that only Ollie provided. For the past two years she’d come here to escape the quiet of an empty home. Ironically, now that Mama was home, Patience was escaping the noise. How could a woman sing for so many hours each day?

  “Are you claiming that the sunshine tore your dress and tracked mud up the left side of your body?”

  If Nicholas couldn’t understand what a draw the sunshine was, he wasn’t going to understand her need to find solace with Ollie.

  Patience stood and slapped her hip with her hand. “Ollie, come.” She couldn’t stand him waiting on Nicholas.

  The dog’s dark-brown legs made quick work of the distance between her and Nicholas. She placed a hand on his head, and Ollie leaned into her. Immediately she felt at peace. It didn’t really matter what her brother thought of her. She would always have Ollie. “I was just finishing up my morning visits.”

  Nicholas furrowed his brow. “With Olympus?”

  “No one else would be appropriate.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “Come back inside and change your clothes.”

  “You don’t want to be in there with Mama either,” Patience protested, but she started back toward their London home. She preferred being in the country, but Nicholas needed to spend most of his time in London since Papa died. “Surely all your work as Duke Harrington can wait for an afternoon.”

  “I thought this was a morning visit.”

  “Yes, but I think you need an afternoon.”

  They had nearly reached the back door. Mama’s false vibrato wafted through the doorway. For a woman who liked to sing, she wasn’t actually very sk
illed at it. Nicholas rubbed his face with his hands. “No, what I need is a sister who has an ounce of decorum.”

  Patience stopped. What waited inside for her? An oblivious mother and a critical brother. Outside there was sunshine and Ollie.

  “Patience . . .”

  She stepped across the threshold and into the kitchen of their sprawling home. She was dirty enough to warrant Nicholas using the servants’ entrance. Cook and Rebecca were washing vegetables. They smiled at Patience but quickly dried their hands and scurried to the larder when they noticed Nicholas behind her. Apparently no one wanted to be around when the Duke of Harrington was frustrated with his sister. She sighed and placed her hand on the doorframe, not quite ready to relinquish a pleasant afternoon.

  “You are becoming more like Mother every day,” Nicholas muttered after pushing past her. She couldn’t quite catch the last thing he said, but she definitely heard “running from responsibilities.”

  What responsibilities? She wished she had some. In fact, there was nothing for her to do here. Outside at least she could feel the sunlight warm her, and Ollie would stand by her no matter what.

  Patience sighed. There would be no changing Nicholas. He hadn’t been much fun while Mama was in Paris, but now that she was home life was even more unbearable. Was it Patience’s fault Mama couldn’t handle a life in mourning?

  Her hand was still on the doorway. Tiny pinpricks of heat radiated off it, reminding her of the sunshine that awaited if she could just return to the garden. With Nicholas now in front of her, headed no doubt back to his study, Patience jumped out the open doorway and shut Nicholas into the dim house, where he preferred to stay.

  “Patience!” Nicholas roared from the other side of the door, but she was already far enough away that the sound was muffled.

  Whenever he said her name in that exasperated way, she liked to pretend her brother was reminding himself to be patient with her. She threw her arms out and turned around once, enjoying the sense of freedom. She would take in as much sun as possible today. Warmth was life, and she had seen little of it since Papa had passed away.

  Ollie jogged to her side, happy that she had returned so quickly.

  The sound of the door being violently forced open caused her to turn around. Nicholas was livid. His face had gone red, and his nostrils flared.

  How unbecoming of him.

  If she were any other person, she would be scared. Her brother was tall and thick and very used to having his own way.

  “Did you just shut the door on me?”

  “I did just shut the door. It is hard to say exactly if I shut it on you. I thought you were headed to your study.”

  Oh dear, now his eyebrows were raising. He stomped in her direction, but Patience stood her ground. He might be over a foot taller than she, but he was still her brother, and he would never harm her. Question her judgment at practically every turn, yes, but never harm her.

  “You will be entering society in two months,” he said. “You aren’t nearly as young as most of the debutantes, and yet you still act as if you were a child. Traipsing about, not caring about the extra workload you put on the servants, with not a care for authority.”

  “Your authority?” She tried not to laugh. Nicholas was only three years her senior. At twenty-three, he was one of the youngest noblemen sitting at parliament. She doubted many of his peers took him very seriously.

  “Yes, my authority. I’m the Duke of Harrington. All of England accepts my authority.”

  She raised one eyebrow.

  His reaction was instantaneous. All of his bluster was gone. His shoulders sank, and his hand went back over his eyes. After a moment of silence, his hand dropped to his side. “I’m not fooling anyone. I can’t even get my sister to listen to me.” He turned on his heel, leaving her in the garden.

  Ollie pushed at her thigh, hoping she would run with him again, but she had lost all her desire to play. She had won; Nicholas had left her alone. So why did it feel like defeat?

  Patience groaned and sprang forward to catch up with him. The pebbles on the path crunched beneath her feet. She clasped her brother’s warm hand and pulled him to a stop.

  “Stay with me for a while. Let the sun warm your clothing, at least, before you go back inside to look over papers.”

  His hand tightened around hers, and he turned to face her. “I can’t.”

  “Not even for a minute?”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. You are a lady born of privilege. You don’t have to worry about stains or tears on your dress; the servants will fix them. You’ve never had anyone rely on you or had any work to do, and you will go from living a life of privilege here to a life of privilege in your husband’s household. Just like Mother. Go.” He squeezed her fingers once and then let them go. “Play in the sun. Who knows how long it will last? You are one of the few people in England who doesn’t really have to grow up if you don’t want to.”

  Play in the sun? The heat of the day was nothing compared to the heat that burst into her chest. Did her brother really think so little of her? For something she had absolutely no control over? The fact that she was a woman? And her station in life? Other than her wild curls and broad mouth, she was nothing like Mama. Patience had been here for every minute of their two-year mourning period, agreeing with Nicholas that they should extend their mourning in response to Mama’s lack of propriety. Mama hadn’t lasted a month. Just because Patience chose to be cheerful at times didn’t mean she couldn’t be appropriately sorrowful when occasion called for it.

  “You were born to just as much privilege as I was, Nicholas. More even.”

  He stood tall. A gleam in his eye told her he was anxious for a confrontation.

  “Yes, but I like to believe my time in the army cured me of any frivolousness, just as Father had hoped it would. You will have no such opportunity.”

  “So you have given up on me being a decent person?” The sun no longer felt bright or warming. How could her brother think such terrible things of her?

  “I’ve given up on teaching you to be one. You will be whatever person you decide to be. I have no control over it.”

  “Am I so bad that I need to be changed completely?” Her voice quivered, and she tried to regain the anger she had felt before. She knew she disappointed her brother often enough, but she hadn’t known it was to this extent.

  Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. “It isn’t that you are bad. It’s just that I see in you the potential to be so much more, if only society weren’t so bent on you being a lady of leisure. I know because I was the same. I wouldn’t trade my time in the army for anything in the world. My only regret is not seeing Father more during those years. But there is nothing like that for you, and I wish there was. I’ve often wondered if Mother would have been different if she’d had the opportunity to work, even for a few months.”

  Patience breathed in slowly through her nose. He was lashing out at Mama, not her. “Nicholas, we both know I am not Mama.” Mama had returned home refreshed and happy after her time in France. Ready to plan every aspect of Patience’s coming out three or four times over. She never mentioned Papa or apologized for leaving her children when they needed her the most.

  Nicholas scraped the toe of his shoe on the ground and then looked up with a wan smile. “No, of course you’re not.” He smiled, but it was forced. She knew that smile; it was the one he wore every time Mama walked into the room. There was no happiness behind it. “The sun is nice today. Thank you for getting me out of my study. Even if it was only for a moment. I won’t disturb you again.”

  He carefully opened the door and let himself back in. Patience was left alone. The sun still warmed her back, but her heart had gone cold. Her brother had just given up on her. She had seen him do the same with Mama. He never spoke to Mama unless she directly asked him a question, and even then it was only short answe
rs. Patience was a disappointment and would remain a disappointment for the rest of her life. Her chest tightened, but she shook it off.

  Stomping forward, she threw open the door. “I could learn, Nicholas. I don’t always have to be this way.”

  Sometimes she was serious. She didn’t necessarily like it much. After all, Nicholas’s seriousness had brought him no joy as far as she could tell.

  Nicholas was still in the kitchen, one hand on the countertop, head bent low. “No, Patience. I’ve been much too lenient while Mama was gone. And you know what? It doesn’t matter. You don’t need to behave the way I want you to. You will be a much happier person than I, never knowing that there is a dark world outside that would eat you up in a single sunshine-filled afternoon. Look at Mother. She hasn’t stopped singing since she came home.” A high, jaunty note wafted in from the music room as if to prove his point. Patience couldn’t make out the song, but it was not the melancholy tune one would expect from a widow.

  A sense of calm overtook her, and she raised her shoulders. “I’m stronger than you think, Nicholas.”

  “You might be, but when would you ever get a chance to prove it?”

  When would she? Nicholas was terribly frustrating, but he was also almost always correct. She had no way to go out and experience the world like Nicholas. She could try to get a position as one of Queen Victoria’s ladies, but she didn’t love politics, and it seemed that was a prerequisite to the position. Not to mention that being at court was most likely not at all the kind of place that would prove to Nicholas she wasn’t flighty and unprepared to meet hardships head-on. She knew she could be a stronger person, but how was she supposed to show that to Nicholas? His ideas were to have her sit at home and not make life harder for anyone else. Was that really going to help her?

  “I’ll prove it now. I’ll start following Rebecca around and helping with her duties.”

  “She would never actually let you do any real work. You must know that.”