His not so sensible miss.., p.1
His Not So Sensible Miss (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time - Book 3), page 1
His Not So
Sensible Miss
By
Jane Charles
His Not So Sensible Miss
By: Jane Charles
Copyright © 2011 by Jane Charles
Smashwords Edition
Cover Design by Jerrica Knight-Catania
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations and events are either a product of the author’s imagination, fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any event, locale or person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook 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’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Dedicated to
My niece, Megan, for her support and cheering me on
Chapter 1
County Sussex, England
March, 1813
A drop of water fell on Emily Frasier’s nose. No! Not now. The sky had been overcast for a week, leaving her world grey and gloomy. Unable to stand being cooped up in the house one more day, she had taken a chance and gone for a ride. Who would have believed that as soon as she was far away from her uncle’s home the sky would decide to open up? Stuck between an open field and the woods, Emily searched for signs of a shelter.
Ahead was a well-used path. Please, let this lead to some place dry and protected. Soothing the agitated horse, she rode up the hill. Ahead of her was the back of an old, dilapidated barn and she sighed with relief. The place had certainly seen better days but that it was the only shelter to be found and the rain was becoming heavier, who was she to criticize? Emily rode around to the front and guided her mare into the structure and slid from the horse’s back. The barn must have been deserted long ago. Several areas of the roof offered no protection whatsoever and she needed to be careful where she stood because she was liable to get just as wet inside as she would out.
Emily removed her drooping, waterlogged hat and placed in on a small table and began drying the mare with some old straw piled in the corner. When she was finished, she used the brush that had been left behind to groom her horse.
“I’m sorry, Athena, I can’t lift the saddle. You’ll have to stay this way until after the storm and I can get you home.” She walked toward the opening in the barn to check on the sky and was brought up short. Another horse and rider was headed right for her. The rider’s head was down against the wind and rain and Emily ducked out of sight, hoping the man hadn’t seen her. He must be seeking shelter the same as she had done. Suddenly anxious, Emily pulled Athena to the back and into the shadows.
Though she had been in the area a few weeks, Emily still didn’t know her way around. She didn’t even know whose land she trespassed on. This man could be anyone and it wouldn’t be well done to be found alone, hiding. With luck, Athena would remain quiet and both of them would go unnoticed.
Who was she trying to fool? Her luck hadn’t been the best today. She’d torn her new stockings while getting ready for services. At breakfast her cup had tipped, spilling tea down her gown and staining it terribly. They’d been late for church because Emily had been forced to change. And now, this wretched storm.
* * *
Chadwick Dillon Chambers glanced up when the first raindrops hit his face.
“Bullocks!” He needed to get away from his mother and had decided to take up residence in his cottage until the Season began and he returned to London. Being stuck in the house with her carrying on about his non-marital state had pushed him over the edge. With the approach of each spring, it was the same lecture he had listened to for the past five years. At thirty years of age, he most definitely needed to find a bride this season, at least in her opinon.
He longed for the peaceful solitude of his cottage and intended to spend his time putting a new roof on the barn. He had waited three days for the sky to clear to no avail, but the roof wasn’t going to fix itself and time was precious. So he’d thrown caution to the wind and set out of the old out building.
As he approached the opening, his horse shied and Dillon urged him on. After sliding from its back, Dillon pulled him into the barn. The horse neighed and turned his head toward the back of the barn. Perhaps the brewing storm was making the animal more skittish than usual. He wasn’t particularly concerned at the moment. All he wanted to do was remove the saddle and bridle from the beast, brush him down and get into his cottage where he could change into dry clothing and sit before a fire. At least it would be quiet and solitary, with no one harping at him. He looked forward to the promised seclusion.
After dropping the saddle on the ground, Dillon turned to pick up the brush he had last left on the table. But it was missing. In its place was a green hat, wet from the rain. A lady’s hat, to be exact, in complete ruin. Dillon straightened and looked around the barn. No wonder his horse had balked. They weren’t alone.
* * *
Emily tried to make herself as small as possible. Perhaps he would think her mare had simply been left. Heavens, what would she do if the man discovered her. He was a stranger. A very tall and broad shouldered stranger. The kind of stranger any decent young lady would fear to be alone with.
So far Emily had only seen him from behind and noted the dark curly hair cut to just the nape of his neck. Then he turned and the other side of him was just as intimidating. His chest was broad and Emily scooted back further into the shadows. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were, but they must have been as dark as his hair. His face was unusually tanned. Did the stranger spend an inordinate amount of time out of doors?
“I’m glad to see I wasn’t the only one foolish enough to trust the sky.” The stranger smiled toward the back of the barn where Emily stood, her wet hat dangling from his fingertips.
Drat. She forgot to take her hat, just further evidence that her day was not going well. “I don’t believe I like being called a fool.” She stepped forward.
The man bowed. “My apologies. I can understand how one would believe this to be a perfect day for riding.” Was he mocking her?
Emily walked into the opening at the front of the barn. “Very well, you do have a point. But, how was I to know that after days of this monotonous weather it would start to rain when I finally chanced an outing?”
He laughed. “I agree completely, which is how I was caught as well. I’d hoped to patch this roof today.”
As the words left his mouth, a leak developed directly over Emily and water streamed over her head. Emily chuckled and stepped to the side. “I believe you have a good deal of work ahead of you.”
The man stood, hands on hips and looked up at the roof. “Perhaps I should just tear the entire structure down and start all over.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that is necessary, but perhaps a new roof is in order.”
“No bother.” He shrugged. “It’s why I’m here in the first place.”
Emily studied him. He seemed like a friendly, non-threatening man, but could she really trust him? Of course, she didn’t really have a choice at the moment and perhaps today’s diversion would prove promising after all, as long as she didn’t tell her aunt and uncle of this meeting.
* * *
She had no idea who he was, nor did he know her. Dillon couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. It was a refreshing experience. He could already guess she believed him to be a common tradesperson or laborer, which he could hardly blame her given his old worn pants, stained shirt and muddy boots. And, he wasn’t about to enlighten her. “If not, there is work in the cottage needing my attention.”
“I didn’t notice a cottage.” She started for the opening to the barn.
“It’s on the other side of the barn.” He led her to the door opposite from where she stood.
He loved this place. A two story, stone cottage with ivy growing up the back and around the windows and doors. The small kitchen garden with plants still dormant waited for the warmth of spring outside the back door. At least the plants would welcome this rain.
“Will the owner mind that I have waited the storm out in his barn?”
“No, he would not.” She could appear in his barn anytime she liked. Now that she had moved toward the door, he could see her more clearly and he very much liked what he saw. She wasn’t a very tall woman. In fact, the top of her head barely came to his chin. Her hair was a dark brown and her eyes were the color of brandy. Her rounded face reminded him of a cherub with rosy bowed lips. If the fullness of her face was any indication, then her body was probably shapely and softly rounded as well. Especially in the areas he most enjoyed such plumpness. Dillon was very curious as to what her dark cloak hid.
“I don’t recall seeing you in the area before. I’m Dillon.” He intentionally left off his last name. Few knew him as Dillon in these parts as his mother insisted on calling him by his christened name, Chadwick.
“Emily,” she returned with a smile.
How nice that they had only first names between them. It stripped away the walls erected by society where a title determined who you were and how important. Standing in a leaking b arn as Dillon with a lovely young woman named Emily was more than a little refreshing.
As more leaks opened above them, there were few places left to stand. The wind also picked up and Dillon suspected this storm would continue for a time before blowing itself out. They couldn’t stay here because it wasn’t exactly offering any decent shelter. Nor did he trust the roof to remain if the wind became fierce. “I suggest, Miss Emily that we retreat to the cottage where we will be better protected from the elements.”
She took a step back. “I’m not sure that would be wise. Why don’t you go inside and I will stay here with my mare.”
Dillon turned toward the horse. “Would you like some assistance in removing the saddle?”
Emily looked grateful. “Yes, please. I can’t manage it on my own.”
Dillon was happy to be of service and had the mare comfortable in no time. It was prime horseflesh, which made him wonder who Emily was and how she could afford such a fine animal. The saddle was made of some of the finest leather he had ever seen. She may believe him to be a common laborer but she was far from a common, country girl.
“I can’t leave you in the barn alone and I have no desire to stay in here with the roof leaking over my head.”
“I don’t know the owner and it wouldn’t be right to intrude.”
“The owner will not mind. On that you have my word.”
Emily chewed on a fingernail and Dillon could only guess at what she was thinking. “However, he would mind if I let you stand out here in the rain and you became ill.”
She looked up at him, worry marred her brow and she bit her lower lip. “Is he at home?”
“No, but I have a key so I can work on the roof and I will be staying here.”
“Are you certain he won’t mind?”
“I promise.” He placed his hand over his heart. “You have my word that I will behave honorably toward you.”
“For some reason I believe you, though I don’t even know you.” She glanced toward the cottage. “But, what if someone should learn?”
“Then they’d also know we were in the barn alone, which is just as condemning. If am going to be accused of ruining a young lady, I prefer it be in a warm, cozy cottage instead of a wet, leaking barn.” He grinned down at her. “I do have a reputation to consider.”
* * *
“Very well,” Emily capitulated. He had a point and she was growing cold in her damp clothing.
Dillon grinned and grabbed her hand. Together they ran through the pouring rain until they reached the shelter of the small overhang. He quickly unlocked the door and ushered Emily inside the dry alcove where he removed her cloak and hung it on a peg to dry. She followed him into a kitchen and he lit a few candles. It was very neat and clean for being vacant. Emily stood inside the door as Dillon lit the stove, put water on to boil and removed two cups and a teapot from the cupboard. He reached into another cupboard and retrieved a sugar bowl before producing two spoons.
“There’s no milk.” He smiled apologetically.
“It isn’t as though you were planning on entertaining.” She couldn’t wait to have a nice hot cup of tea. “Besides, I don’t take milk in my tea.”
His shoulders relaxed, as if waiting for her to complain. Perhaps where he worked he was used to people becoming upset if they didn’t get what they wanted.
“Let’s go sit by the fire while we wait for the water to boil.” Dillon picked up a candle and crossed through a dining room and into a foyer before coming to a lovely parlor. He lit a few lamps before he bent to light the kindling. Soon flames licked the logs. Drawn by its warmth, Emily found herself standing next to Dillon, attempting to get warm and dry out her moist clothing. Her cloak had been soaked but luckily her dress was only damp. Her feet were another matter. No doubt her stockings and shoes were ruined. That made two pairs of stockings destroyed in one day and it wasn’t even dinnertime yet.
“Who owns this cottage?”
“Chambers.”
Emily nodded her head in understanding. “I didn’t think their land extended this far.”
“It doesn’t.” Dillon turned to her. “Their son bought this cottage and land for himself as a place to hide away.”
What would a gentleman of the ton want with a cottage so far away from everything else? From what she understood, hunting lodges were grander than this, and one couldn’t have too many guests visiting. If her estimation was correct, there was but one other room on this floor, which was probably a library or office. The second couldn’t hold more than four bedrooms.
“Are you sure he wouldn’t mind us being here?”
“I am certain he would not.”
Dillon seemed confident and Emily relaxed. He probably knew the son well enough since he was Dillon’s employer.
“I’ll check on the tea.” He left her alone and Emily turned to study the room. This was the type of house she had always wanted. This room especially, with its pale blue walls and dark blue and deep green upholstery. It reminded her much of the home she shared with her father and his things would fit in here nicely. Would Chambers one day be willing to sell, if she could come up with funds? Of late she had thought much about her future. She wasn’t getting any younger and couldn’t remain with her guardian forever.
* * *
Dillon quietly whistled in the kitchen while he prepared the tea. He didn’t want her to know who he was just yet. If she learned he wasn’t a common laborer, her attitude may change. A number of young ladies would use this opportunity to be ruined and force marriage. Emily didn’t strike him as that type and he liked to believe he was a good judge of character, even from a brief meeting. He wanted her to like him for who he was and not because he was the heir to a fortune.
He placed the pot and cups on a tray. Had he known he would have such a lovely guest, he would have arranged for cakes as well. Unfortunately the pantry was not yet stocked with anything beyond the basic staples. Besides, it would take too long to prepare anything delicious for her, if he even knew how. Maybe next time and Dillon certainly planned on there being another time. She was too lovely by half to just let disappear from his life. The question was, who was she?
I wonder what Marius would think if I wrote and asked for recipes? Dillon quickly dismissed the idea. Such a request would have Marius on his door in a heartbeat wanting to know why he had a sudden interest in cooking. Dillon wanted no intrusions in his life right now, even if it was his best friend.
He carried the tray through the dining room and paused at the doorway to the parlor. Emily wore a light yellow riding habit, which fitted her form nicely. It was what he had imagined. She was voluptuous with well-rounded hips. Some people might call her plump but Dillon found her shape most desirous. She would be soft everywhere and a man would be very comfortable with her in his arms.
He placed the tray on the table between two chairs in front of the fire. The room was beginning to warm and dampness no longer lingered in the air. “Please, have a seat.”
Emily settled into one of the chairs and glanced toward the teapot. “Would you like for me to pour?”
“Thank you.” He took the opposite seat. Dillon couldn’t believe his good fortune in finding her in his barn. He no longer cared that the storm raged outside, nor did he care that the roof would have to go yet another day. He didn’t want to be anywhere but where he was at this very moment.
“I don’t recall seeing you around here before.” Dillon took a sip of the tea.
“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle. Aunt Beatrice was my mother’s sister and I promised to spend time with them until I journeyed onto London.”
Dillon digested this bit of information. “Aunt Beatrice wouldn’t be Mrs. Klintonham, would she?
