Henrietta Dean needs money, and fast, or her family will lose their home. Lieutenant John Hoyle is dashing, handsome -- and penniless, depending on his skill at cards to finance his army career. Both attend the season in York, hoping to marry wealth. They meet and fall in love, each believing the other to be the perfect match. But when they discover the truth, can their relationship survive?
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An Excerpt from: A Family Affair
Copyright © 2012 Maria Ling
All rights reserved, Wild Child Publishing.
Henrietta shifted nervously. Her new gown, made for the occasion, was entirely fit for a grown-up young woman making her début in York society at the Assembly Rooms ball. In other words, it showed more of her arms and chest than could possibly be considered decent. It was chilly, too, despite the heat from the hundreds of wax candles that surrounded her and shimmered in the air.
"I told you I would need a pelisse," she complained to Edward --quietly, for several nearby couples were eyeing them both with overt interest.
"Money didn't run to that," Edward muttered without disturbing the polite smile affixed to his mouth. "I don't mind spending on the dress --it's vital to present you in the most attractive wrapping any seamstress could devise --but you'll have to find warmth from within."
"I'm the seamstress," Henrietta reminded him. She rested her elbow against the tiny stain along one seam. A speck of blood had fallen on the fabric when she pierced the skin of her fingertip with the needle. She had done what she could with cold water, but the traces remained.
"And a fine one, too. Here's William."
Henrietta's smile grew more natural as she watched her brother enter in the company of some other officers. They did look handsome, tall and fit in their dark blue dolmans and sleek white trousers. William spotted her and Edward, flicked them a greeting with his hand, then steered his nearest companion over towards them.
"My brother Edward, my sister Henrietta. My lieutenant, John Hoyle."
"Mr. Dean. Miss Dean." John Hoyle was an imposing man, seen this near. He topped William, so Henrietta had to crane her neck to look up at him. The expression in his eyes and the set of his jaw told her this was a man who knew how to command. His eyes were a very dark brown, with a look that drove straight through her, and set in a stern face. Then he smiled, and the effect was immediate: a fun, playful expression danced across his face, and made her smile in return.
"An honour," Edward said crisply, assuming control of the situation. Henrietta could almost hear him whisper 'No officers!' But John Hoyle was handsome, and William thought highly of him, and if he were rich as well, what harm could flirtation do? If nothing else, it would show her best side to any prospects among the onlookers.
"A pleasure," Henrietta corrected, which drew another smile. "We have heard much from William about your abilities."
"Not, I hope, as a horseman. I am infamous in the mess for that."
"Won't go slow," William said, laughing. "Crowds everyone else out of line. The colonel is furious."
"He's only furious because I won't marry his daughter," Hoyle replied. "Or perhaps it's because he lost so handsomely to me at whist the other night. I'm much obliged to him."
"I didn't know he had a daughter."
"Only one, and she's married. I was jesting."
Henrietta breathed out --imperceptibly, she hoped. Against a colonel's daughter, who must have an excellent fortune, a poor gentleman farmer's daughter wouldn't have much to offer.
It did alert her to the level of competition. Henrietta glanced around the room. Her dress was good, and in the latest fashion, but she keenly felt her lack of jewellery. Edward's money hadn't run to that, either.
The musicians tuned their instruments. Hoyle bowed to her, before she had dared to hope.
"I trust you'll keep me in mind for the first dance, Miss Dean."
"I'd be delighted."
"Here's an acquaintance of mine that I wish you to meet," Edward said. "Excuse us, gentlemen." He dragged Henrietta away with a firm grip on her arm.
"Stop it," Henrietta whispered as soon as their faces were averted. "I like him."
"He's an officer," Edward growled back. "And he gambles at high stakes, and he's William's friend. How many arguments do you want me to range against him? Here's Mr. Swann, now. Be nice to him."
"I'm always nice."
"You know what I mean. Try. For your brother, yes?"
Henrietta did the best she could, but her heart faltered at the next introduction. Mr. Swann --clearly a mercantile acquaintance of Edward's, given the way they immediately fell to discussing the price of butter --seemed a pleasant man, but he was forty and balding and entirely lacking in dash.
"Miss Dean?" A playful voice in her ear rescued her from the tedium of lading rights and salt mills. "We have this dance, I believe."
"Then I'll claim the next," Mr. Swann said and gave her a fatherly smile.
Henrietta agreed --she could hardly do less, in common courtesy, and Edward's eyes were on her. Still, she was glad when Hoyle led her away.
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