Ella Quinn

by

Tea with Harriett

Harriett Staunton offered Eleanor another cup of tea. When the young lady had offered her resignation to the committee for the Foundation for the Education and Enrichment of the Lives of Ladies of Talent, she had explained merely that she intended to move to York.

Eleanor invited her to stay on after the meeting. A girl with Harriett’s questionable birth faced many challenges on the marriage market, and those challenges were magnified in London. Eleanor would help, if she could. But she needed to understand what motivated Harriett.

“Why York, Miss Staunton? Are you escaping your family or London Society?”

Perhaps Harriett picked up Eleanor’s genuine concern, for she did not take offence. “Perhaps a little of both, Your Grace. I have been educated as a lady, but my birth in the merchant classes means that I would not be accepted at the upper levels of London society if I was even invited to any of the events here.”

She took a deep breath and continued, “And the irregular nature of my birth means that the merchant classes also reject me.” A shadow of pain passed through her eyes. Eleanor, who knew more than most how less honourable men think, wondered at the insults the poor girl might have suffered from those who thought their birth on the right side of the blanket entitled them to look down on those less fortunate.

“So you do hope for a husband,” Eleanor concluded. “And, very sensibly, you think that a Season in York is likely to give you the opportunity to meet men who are not so fixed on status and on impressing other people.”

“In a nutshell,” Harriett agreed.

“I wish you every success, Harriett,” Eleanor said. “How can I be of assistance? Are you planning to stay with friends?”

“You are very kind, Your Grace. I have rented a townhouse, and will be living with trusted staff members, including my companion. But I very much appreciate your good wishes.”

“I shall write to a few of my friends and ask them to make sure you are on their invitation list, my dear. Please write to me and let me know how you get on.”

Harriett agreed, and they spoke for a while about places in York that Eleanor had visited and that Harriett might enjoy.

When the guest had left, Eleanor called for her writing desk and set quill to paper. She knew just the person who might take Harriett’s quest to heart.

“Dear Lady Beaumont…”

Harriett Staunton is the heroine of “I’ll Always Be Yours”, a story in Desperate Daughters. On preorder now. Only 99c until publication.

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Spotlight on “I’ll Always Be Yours” in Desperate Daughters

I’ll Always Be Yours: By Ella Quinn

All her life Miss Harriett Staunton believed she was the natural daughter of an earl. In the merchant society in which she was raised, that only garnered improper proposals. Knowing she would never wed, she moved to York, far away from her London family.

Lord Sextus Trevor needs to wed. Unbeknownst to him, his father has arranged a marriage. But before he is even told about the betrothal, he’s whisked off to York, where he meets Harriett Staunton and must find a way to defy his father.

And 8 other great stories.

Excerpt

Sextus resisted the urge to draw Miss Staunton closer as they strolled The Walk. Thus far, it appeared Serena Beaumont could not have chosen a better lady for him. Miss Staunton had all the qualifications of a diplomat’s wife. What he needed to know now is if they had or could develop the type of passion and meeting of the minds that would make a happy marriage. They had to want the same things out of life in order for their future to succeed.

“I believe Lady Beaumont mentioned you enjoy charity work. In what types of charities are you involved?”

Miss Staunton focused her bright green eyes on him. “Helping children. I have only been in York for a few months, but I have learned what the most basic needs are. Yet, I believe there needs to be a better plan when it comes to the future of children who do not have families or have families who cannot provide for their futures.”

That sounded like what his married sisters were doing. “What do you see as the failings?”

“Putting them in the lowest forms of employment or apprenticeships and not ensuring the children are treated properly. We had one boy of only six years return with serious burns from being forced to clean chimneys that had not been sufficiently cooled. That is unacceptable.”

It sounded like the master should be arrested or taken to court. But he knew how hard that would be and the funds it would take. “I agree. What will you do?”

Her brows furrowed, and she stared ahead of her. Sextus missed having her looking at him. “I have asked my solicitor to look into it.”

If only he could help. Then it occurred to him he might be able to. “If you would like, I can write to my brother who is a barrister. He might be able to be of assistance.”

In a flash her expressive gaze was his again, and she was smiling. “Oh, would you? That would be wonderful!”

He didn’t want her to think he had solved all her problems. Nonus might not be able to help at all. Still… “All I can do is ask. It is his decision to make.”

The joy in her face dimmed. Sextus’s letter would have to be persuasive. “Yes, of course. I understand. Thank you for offering to contact him.”

“That, Miss Staunton, would be my pleasure.” He smiled down at her.

Thankfully her lovely lips tilted up again. “Thank you again.

Now, how to approach his next query? “What do you dream about for your future?”

She glanced away toward the ducks in the river then back to him. “I have not allowed myself to consider it overmuch. I do not expect to wed.” Pain of some sort clouded her eyes and the sparkle faded. “My aunt attempted to bring me out among the merchant society in London. I was not accepted.”

There was no surprise there. The French term bourgeois had come to represent the narrow-minded attitudes of merchants to natural children and the women who birthed them. Their loss was possibly his gain. “They are not the only society in England or even the world.”

Miss Staunton heaved a sigh. “I know, but they are the people I was brought up around.”

She was as lady-like as any female he’d known in the ton. “But not educated as.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It is a conundrum I have never understood. Why educate me as a lady?”

Why, indeed. There was a mystery here Sextus would enjoy delving into if he had the time. And time was a problem. Despite all the actions his family had taken, the duke was bound to find out he was in the country. “May I say that I am very glad you are a lady?”

She flashed him a quick glance from beneath her lush dark lashes. It was an innocent look, but more than enough for his body to respond to her allure. A beautiful pink painted her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Sextus had never lacked for female company. Nevertheless, he was always extremely discreet. But none of his paramours had infused him with an immediate desire to take her somewhere and discover if she would respond to him the way he was responding to her. He wished he had time for a longer courtship, but needs must. “What if you had an opportunity to marry and have children, a family?”

Her white teeth bit down on her plump bottom lip. “I have not allowed myself to wish. It would be too painful.”

Her tone was sad and full of longing. Was it too soon to raise her expectations? He gave himself an inner shake. They had only just met today. He had at least a week or two to change her mind. “After your experience, I understand.”

“Look. There is a girl selling bread. Shall we feed the ducks?”

Miss Staunton was very good at changing the subject. Another talent that a diplomat’s wife required. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

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