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  Dancing With A Lady

  A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

  ABIGAIL AGAR

  Copyright © 2017 by Abigail Agar

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.

  Abigail’s Website

  Introduction

  Lady Victoria Turner is a highly desirable woman from a wealthy family... yet she remains unmarried and her father cannot work out why. What he does not realise is that Victoria does not want a husband. She would be much happier living her days out alone, writing her stories of a better world...

  But that is all changed when a masquerade ball is thrown by a mysterious American gentleman who does not seem to be all the he appears.

  Thomas Jones has arrived in England without any clue of the social rules that dictate London life. He is not interested in Victoria because she is wealthy; he likes her because she is different. What makes her even more tempting is that she continues to push him away.

  But Thomas has secrets of his own, and he is about to find out that running half way across the world does not mean that he can escape them. He cannot wear his mask forever...

  Chapter One

  The long, dark wooden dining table stretched out as far as the eye could see, situated so the chandelier that hung above was placed perfectly in the centre. If it ever fell, the candles that would come crashing down with it would probably splay out in the most perfect circle. All around, the dark chairs with high backs and intertwining wooden patterns were decorated with blood-red cushions.

  At the end of the table, right behind the chair where the man of the house sat, there was a tall, Gothic style cabinet which was filled with goblets for various drinks; wine glasses, sherry glasses, brandy glasses ... everything that any respectable home could want. To the left, hung a painting of a horse which was just above the fireplace that was never, ever lit. It was all designed to look very fancy, which of course was the whole point. For families such as the Turners, it was all about looking the part. That was the cause of most of their concerns; their wealth had to be known.

  Lady Victoria Turner did not understand why there was always a place set at every single seat at the table, despite the fact that there had only been three people eating at it for the past few years. Two rows of beautifully cleaned china plates, silver cutlery, and wine glasses all left untouched. It seemed such a waste ... and if it seemed that way to her, she had no doubt that it definitely seemed that way to the staff of the house that scurried around her and her parents, serving them for a pittance. She knew that it was not normal to worry about the opinions of the lower classes, especially not at meals times when the maids were supposed to be invisible, but she could not help it. She felt guilty for the family that she had been born into, even though it was not her fault. She did not wish to switch places with any of the staff members; she much preferred to live in her large, clean home where money and food were not an issue. However, she simply wished that things could be more even. She dreamed of a world where many things were different, and that was one of them.

  Victoria was dressed like the perfect lady as she sat at the table with her parents. Her long dark hair had been plaited and pinned to the back of her head with two small jewels within it; stockings covered the pale skin of her legs, and she wore her finest black shoes. She also had one of her very best dresses on. A cream dress with a ruffled collar and mid-length sleeves. It tapered in at the waist, showing off the wonderful hourglass figure she had managed to create with one of her sturdiest corsets, and it cascaded down towards her feet, almost to the floor. With a pale blue ribbon wrapped around it, Victoria knew that she looked the part. She just did not feel it and was not sure that she ever had done. She could not remember a time when she had felt like she deserved the title of ‘Lady’. That was not such a noticeable thing when she was younger, and her main complaints were petty squabbles with her two older sisters, and her dislike at learning whatever their governess was currently teaching them. How little she knew then about what real problems were. If she had, then she would not have been in such a hurry to grow up.

  Maybe she understood on some level that she would have to search for a husband, and then she would be forced to leave the family home to go off and have children of her own. If she truly thought about it, she could see that it was always the subliminal message with all the teachings that had ever come her and her sisters’ way, but the truth did not hit her until her eldest sister, Eleanor found a man of her own. She met him at a society event and soon got wed, almost vanishing from Victoria’s existence. Now, she had two boys of her own to care for, but in Victoria’s mind, she was still not much older than a child herself.

  That was the moment that Victoria first started retreating in on herself. Up until that moment, she had been a very confident, carefree young girl, but as the realities of adulthood set in, she became shyer and much quieter. It should not have been as much of a surprise to her when her other sister, Charlotte, was wed soon after. After all, Charlotte was always considered the most beautiful of the three girls, and with a name like Turner and the wealth associated, all the eligible bachelors at the time wanted her. She soon found a man that she liked too and disappeared.

  The pressure did not fall onto Victoria right away because there was an age gap, but as soon as she reached the marrying age, she felt it, and it made something that already felt very challenging even harder. Almost impossible, which was why she had become such a failure to her family.

  Of course, Victoria felt much guilt that her parents had spent a good deal of money on her two very unsuccessful seasons because they were so desperate for her to find a husband. She felt it weighing heavily on her chest every single day, but that did not change the fact that she just could not do it. How was she supposed to find a man to spend the rest of her life with when she did not like any of them? How was she even supposed to know whether she liked them or not when she felt too shy to even speak with them? She sighed very quietly to herself as she watched her parents silently eating across the table from her, with a silent fury and disappointment burning underneath their skin. They did not need to speak it for Victoria to know that it was there; it was obvious. It had been creating much tension within the family for months now. It would not take long for things to explode ...

  “This is not going to plan, is it?” her father, Duke Michael Turner muttered as if to no one, showing Victoria that the moment she had been dreading was about to come much too soon. “We cannot continue failing in such a way. It should not be this hard.”

  The guilt flooded Victoria once more, and her shoulders hitched up near to her ears. If she were given the option to speak freely, she would have told her father that she did not like her one and only job of finding a husband, and that she would have much preferred to spend her life alone. Victoria did not crave the company of other people, and she did not care for the idea of marriage and motherhood. All she wanted to do was write her stories and live in her imagination where she had the power to make the world a much better place. Just because she came from a wealthy family with a desirable name, did not mean she wanted the life laid out for her. She wished that she could control her own destiny.

  “Let us not talk of it at the dinner table,” the Duchess replied, sounding humiliated as her eyes raced around the room. “That is a conversation for later on, do you not think?”

  Duke Turner kept his eyes f
ixed on his plate as he ignored his wife’s command. It seemed fury had consumed him so much that he had forgotten all about the proper way to behave. “I do think, Victoria, that if you do not find someone soon, you will end up unwed. That is not what you want at all.”

  It is, Victoria thought desperately. Not that she would have ever dared to say it aloud. That is exactly what I want.

  “I do not know how many more of the seasons we can afford to waste money on.”

  “Shh,” the Duchess hissed as she deigned to glance at the waiting staff for just a moment, fearing that financial matters were at risk of being discussed in front of them. “This is not something that we need to discuss now.”

  This was the stilted view of marriage that Victoria had always seen. Her parents were always awkward and uncomfortable around one another; there did not seem to be any love between them at all, and the same went for her sisters. Victoria could remember them well as fun girls who always played and laughed alongside her. Now that they were married, they were quiet and subdued, or at least they had been on the few occasions that she had visited with them or they had come to the family home, Victoria had not seen either of them talk without being spoken to. She did not desire that for herself.

  “I am sorry, Mother, but I cannot continue like this ...”

  “It is not wise to worry about this right now ...”

  Victoria resisted the urge to block her ears as her parents hissed at one another in a very uncouth manner. They would never behave in such a way in public; vulgarity was one of the most unforgivable things that a person presented. It made her uncomfortable to have it in her own home, but at least there was nobody to see it. Her shyness meant she could not handle any sort of intense focus from people she did not know.

  Maybe that was why her seasons had been so unsuccessful. Gentlemen had approached her; they had wanted to speak with her, to dance with her, and to get to know her, but Victoria did not feel comfortable with them. She knew that their interest was more because of her name and family fortune than herself, so she had always refused and rebuffed them quickly. Of course, that was hidden from her parents. She did not want them to know that she had failed on purpose. Or maybe not on purpose, but she had not actively looked for success either. She had behaved like a wallflower, hiding in the shadows as much as she possibly could. The fewer eyes that were upon her, the better as far as she was concerned.

  Eventually, the Duchess lost her patience and rose to a standing position, indicating that mealtime was over. Victoria felt the tight knot of stress that had formed in her chest loosen as escape became a clear possibility. Whenever she had challenging emotions to deal with, she used them to help create her secret stories as a way of dealing with them. That was her private way of relieving her stress. She could almost feel the quill in her hand already, the words flowing out of her, the tension vanishing.

  “I believe we need to have a meeting in the drawing room,” the Duchess commanded in a tone that most women would not dare use with their husbands. “Alone.”

  Victoria knew that they would be talking about her and the current situation, in that she would soon be reaching the age of three and twenty years old, where it would be very challenging for her to get married at all, but as long as the conversation was not in front of her, it could not affect her so deeply. She could forget that it was even happening. She could return back to her fantasy world where none of this mattered ...

  If only she could live in one of the pages of her stories, where the world was a much less complex place, things would be so much better for her. Maybe to the rest of the world, she was wasting her times creating stories, but to Victoria, it was the only thing that set her free from the restrictive life that she was forced to exist within.

  Chapter Two

  Victoria blinked her eyes open as the bright sunlight streamed through her bedroom window, alerting her to morning time. Her curtains were drawn, but due to the thin material and the pale colour, the brightness of daylight always made its way inside anyway. She did not mind that, though, Victoria did not wish to sleep in late; she never wanted to miss out on breakfast.

  For a couple of moments, while she stretched her arms above her head and waited until her brain had fully woken up, Victoria stared at the wooden top of her four-poster bed. A twisting pattern had been carved into it, and she allowed her eyes to travel along it. For some reason, Victoria had always preferred to look at that rather than whatever pattern lay across her bedsheets, which today was a floral design. There was something about the wood that she found much more appealing.

  Eventually, she turned underneath the sheets and placed her feet gently on the floor. Even when she was alone in the confines of her bedroom, Victoria always behaved with perfect poise and grace. The etiquette lessons that she had received at a very young age with her sisters had always stuck with her. Even though she did not like being on show, she could not help behaving as if she was.

  Victoria’s bedroom was a simply decorated room, which was exactly as she wanted. She could remember the long arguments that Charlotte had with their parents about wanting more of the things that her friends had in their rooms; she wanted desperately to fit in, but Victoria was not that way at all. The only thing she needed was her bed, her writing desk, and her oil lamp. Even her wardrobe and her full-length mirror seemed like pointless additions, but she supposed they had to be there for practical reasons alone. She had to dress and check that she looked good.

  Victoria paused in front of her mirror for a moment, just like she did every single morning, and she examined her much more child-like appearance. With her hair hanging loose and slightly wavy, and her body without the hourglass figure, she could almost fool herself that she was too young for all of these worries. Her nightdress had long sleeves which had tight ruffles at the end and buttons right up to her neck. The waistline was barely there, which actually Victoria preferred. This was just another example of how she was not designed to be a lady; she did not even like the style of dress.

  She stepped closer with her hand outstretched, wanting to touch her reflection, but before she managed to connect with it, the pitter-patter of footsteps halted her, and she instantly dropped her hand back to her side, fearing that she was about to be caught by the maid sent up to dress her. Embarrassment was just about the worst emotion Victoria could feel.

  “Good morning, Lady Victoria,” the young girl who must not have been out of her teens said in a strong city accent. “How are you feeling today?” As she waited for Victoria to answer, she set about straightening up the bed. “It is a lovely day; the sun is shining brightly.”

  “Y ... yes, I suppose it is,” Victoria stammered back as her eyes returned to the window where the sun certainly was shining very brightly in the clear blue sky. “Lovely.”

  “Did you sleep well?” the girl continued, unbothered by Victoria’s awkwardness.

  “Oh yes, I did thank you.” Victoria was not about to detail her wonderful dreams because they linked very strongly to her latest story, but they had helped her to feel rested. “Did you?”

  The girl did not answer; instead, she simply sent her a smile as if Victoria was very naïve. At that moment, she thought that maybe she was. She knew that there were servants’ quarters in the basement, she always had done, but she had never thought to visit them. She had never considered how her father had decorated the rooms for the people working in her home, but she had no doubt that none of them had beds as large and comfortable as her own. All of a sudden she felt guilty again. It was appalling that there was such a difference even under her own roof.

  “We need to get you ready quickly, Lady Victoria.” She changed the subject instead. “The Duke and Duchess wish to speak with you this morning.”

  Those words were enough to send a cold chill racing through Victoria’s body. If her parents wanted to speak with her, there was only one subject in mind, and it was the topic that she really wished to avoid. She could feel all the colour drain from her fa
ce as she thought about it.

  “We ... we do?” She could feel the tension balling around in her shoulders again. But there was no avoiding it; there was no escape in this house. “Of course we do.”

  Victoria stepped forward and chose a maroon coloured dress with a golden pattern running down the centre. It was one that her father had purchased for her, so she knew that she liked it; she just hoped that it would cause him not to be so angry at her. It was only a small thing, but Victoria needed whatever she could get. She sighed loudly and nodded while silently accepting her fate. Whatever would happen next would happen. Maybe she would even find a way out of this whole finding a husband thing. It was probably a wild dream, but she would rather think of that than the truth.

  “Please, help me to dress,” she said quietly to the maid as she searched herself for the bravery that she so desperately needed. “Then I shall see what my father wants.”

  “They are in the drawing room already waiting for you, so I advise we hurry, My Lady.”

  ***

  Victoria balanced on her tiptoes as she made her way into the drawing room where her parents sat waiting. As she spotted her mother’s hands clasped anxiously in her lap, she knew that this was going to be bad. That was something she already felt aware of, but it was confirmed by the obvious tension in the room. She took in some quiet, deep breaths and sat opposite them at the small table which was usually kept only for afternoon tea.

  “Thank you for joining us, Victoria,” her father began in a grave tone. He tilted his head forward to peer at her over his glasses. “We have some news to share with you.”

  “I see.” Victoria’s voice trembled, she could not keep the nerves from it.

  “You received an invitation yesterday to a masquerade ball that will take place next week.” Victoria’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting her father to say that at all. “We did not tell you right away because the sender of the invitation was anonymous, which I am sure you will agree is very suspicious.” The Duke did not pause to wait for Victoria to answer, which suggested that it was not something that he wanted her opinion on. “I sent out a messenger to find out if anyone else has been made aware, and it appears that all the local unwed women have been invited.”