A Charming Stranger for the Lady (Preview)

Prologue

Hertfordshire, May 1810

Lady Caroline Russell sighed, looking around the cavernous foyer of her family home as she waited for her parents to come downstairs. Stepping in front of one of the mirrors, she checked to make sure her brunette curls had not come loose from the elaborate hairstyle her mother had insisted upon. She pulled her long, white gloves up around her elbows. “Curse these wretched things,” she whispered under her breath. They always seemed too tight, her arms being a bit bulkier than the usual debutante’s. Her mother blamed this ‘blight’ on Caroline’s constant work with her horses and rides she took around the estate. But that was where Caroline was most happy—sitting astride a robust mare, riding at breakneck speed through the forest surrounding her family’s estate, the wind whipping through her hair. Riding gave her a sense of freedom that she anticipated would soon be ending.

She huffed again, folding her arms across her chest. “What is taking them so long?” she asked aloud, even though there was no one to hear her. She walked over to the grand staircase and looked up, but no one was to be seen. “Mama! Papa? We will be late!” All that could be heard was the grandfather clock in the corner, ticking the minutes away. She turned slowly in the centre of the room, her long skirts flowing out around her legs. If they made her wait much longer, she would simply go back to her room and go to bed. She did not much like going to these silly soirées as it was.

Her neighbours seemed to be constantly inviting them to parties, and her mother kept accepting them with the hope that Caroline would find a good match. However, Caroline would much rather stay home and read the racing statistics in The Times. Or she would prefer to continue work on the watercolour she had been doing of her beloved mare, Sundance. She and her mare had grown up together, Sundance being born just a few months after Caroline. But she was getting old now and could not go riding quite as much as she had in her youth. Caroline had been trying to capture her likeness in a watercolour painting to keep her memory alive, even when she did pass away.

Caroline turned as she heard a rustling of skirts on the stairs. She watched as her mother came down the stairs, pulling her white gloves up her long and slender arms. “Where have you been?” Caroline asked, meeting her at the bottom step.

“I was waiting for your father, but he is nowhere to be found. I thought he might be with you.” Her mother looked around the foyer as if he might appear suddenly out of thin air.

“No, I have not seen him either. Something must have happened with one of the tenants—”

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, startling them. Her mother screwed up her face and headed toward the door. “Where is Henley? I would think he would be here to help us with our wraps. I do believe our butler is getting a bit senile.” Her mother went to the window and looked out at the drive, and Caroline joined her, but there was no one in sight. The knock sounded again, and Caroline sighed.

“I shall answer it,” she decided, striding toward the door. “Perhaps Papa is in trouble.”

She opened the door amidst protests from her mother. “It is not proper for a young woman to answer the door. What if it is a robber?”

Caroline laughed off her last comment. “Nonsense, Mama.” She opened the door wide and was surprised to see her father standing there, smiling at her. “Papa? Where in the world have you been? Mama was worried.”

“I am well, as you can see. Come with me, Caroline. I have something to show you.”

Caroline raised a brow, shot a questioning glance over her shoulder at her mother, and then took her father’s hand. “What is this, Papa? You are acting unusually secretive.”

“Take a look for yourself,” he replied, waving his hand in the direction of the ranch. Caroline’s followed his gaze, her mouth nearly dropping to the gravel-covered drive when she saw him. The most beautiful, reddish-brown Arabian stallion was being led up the drive, his black mane blowing in the wind. Caroline gasped, looking over at her father.

“When did you—? How did you—?” She did not know quite what to say. “Is he mine?” It was too good to be true.

Her father laughed, placing an arm around her shoulders. “He is. That is, I want to share him with you. I want to train him to enter the races, but I thought you might like to help me with him.” His smile was contagious, and Caroline soon found herself smiling from ear to ear. She had inherited her love of horses and racing from her father, and it was something that brought them close together as she was growing up.

She hugged her father and then walked down the drive to meet the stablemaster. Her father hurried after her, despite her mother’s protests. “Really, my lord, another horse? Caroline already has Sundance and a plethora of other steeds which she may ride. Was this really necessary?”

Caroline turned around, looking at her mother, who stood several yards away. She had never liked horses. Indeed, she was quite afraid of them. Her mother had never understood her fascination with them. The thing that had brought Caroline and her father together had inevitably caused a great divide between herself and her mother.

The horse threw his head up and down, the rays of the setting sun highlighting his well-muscled neck. Caroline walked around to his side and reached out her hand. But before she had a chance to pet his shoulder, the horse reared, letting out a frightened squeal. Caroline backed away, caught by her father’s strong arms. They took another step back, and she let out a breath. “My goodness, he is a feisty one.”

“He is not yet broken. He has spirit, though. I thought that we could find someone to train him, and hopefully have him ready to ride in time for the next circuit.”

Caroline nodded. That was not a significant amount of time—a mere ten months to have him ready. “Is he a two-year-old or a three-year-old?” She asked. She began to walk around the horse, taking care to keep her voice low and her steps measured. She did not want to make any sudden movements to cause the horse any more fright. He had calmed down a bit but still looked tense.

“He will be three in a few months,” her father replied. Caroline continued around, admiring his form. He was a magnificent horse. “What is his name?”

Her father joined her in front of the horse once more. He sighed, folding his hands together. “I thought you might want to choose a name for him?”

Caroline smiled. “Me? Really?”

“Of course. He is half yours.”

Her mother came up behind them, touching Caroline on the shoulder. “Shall we not wait for this little naming ceremony for another time? We are going to be late for the party.”

Her father waved her off. “Nonsense. We have plenty of time.” He offered Caroline his arm, and she took it. She motioned for the stablemaster to lead him around in a circle, taking a moment to think. She watched his powerful legs as he walked around, throwing his head up and down once more. He looked like a steed fit for a king.

She let go of her father’s arm and turned around to face him. “Prince. His name is Prince.”

Her father nodded in approval. “Perfect. I think it fits him. What do you think, Mairi?” He turned to her mother, looking at her expectantly, with a tinge of mischief playing in his eyes. He came and stood beside Caroline, and they both watched her mother’s expression. She softened.

“I suppose it will do. I am afraid that I will not get anything accomplished with you now. I had hoped to have you devote this next year to finding a husband.”

Her father huffed. “There is plenty of time for Caroline to find a husband, Mairi.” He motioned toward the front of the house, and they all set off. The carriage was already waiting at the front door, and her father helped her mother climb in first and then offered his arm to Caroline. Once they were all settled in their seats and her father alerted the driver that they were ready to go, her mother started in again with her talk of marriage.

“It is high time Caroline found a good match and was settled. She is almost eighteen.”

Caroline barely paid attention to her mother’s worried tone, watching Prince being led back to the ranch as they passed him and the stablemaster. She could not wait to have him broken so that she could ride him. He was a bit taller than Sundance and was much more powerful. She was in her world for a moment, wondering what it would be like to ride him at full speed. Caroline imagined it would take her breath away.

“Caroline! Do listen when I am speaking to you,” her mother scolded.

Caroline straightened, glancing at her father. “I apologise, Mama. What were you saying?”

“I said that you need to be careful with how much time you devote to the ranch and that confounded new animal. Really, I would think by your behaviour that you wanted to end up an old maid.”

Caroline tried not to roll her eyes. Her mother could be irritating at times. “Mama, I do not care about finding a husband at the moment. I still have plenty of time. Perhaps I am not meant to be married.” Caroline watched as a look of horror crossed her mother’s face. In truth, Caroline was not good at talking with men. And she loathed dancing, probably because she hated allowing others to take the lead. When she first came out when she was fifteen, she had received several courtship offers. However, the young men who had pursued her inevitably found out that she was not like the other debutantes. She was much too free-spirited for them, and they soon gave up on her.

“Do not say such things, Caroline. I mean to see you married in the next year or so. There is no excuse for you remaining single. You are beautiful and cultured… when you put your mind to it. You are excellent with drawing and watercolours, even though your skills at the pianoforte are sorely lacking.” Her mother turned to her father and gave him a rueful look. “I blame you for that. I suppose riding well does have its advantages. There are some gentlemen who enjoy the sport. But you spend entirely too much time in the stinking ranch.”

Her father bristled at this remark. “I resent that. Our ranch are far from ‘stinking’. They are the finest in the area.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “It is a wonder you and I got married, Richard. I suppose I was simply in the right place at the right time, standing there long enough for you to look up from your racing pamphlet.”

Her father laughed—a rich, resonant sound that Caroline loved. Unlike many gentlemen of his circles, he was fit and agile, even in his mid-forties. Caroline was proud to have a father who was not content to sit around his study and meet with tenants or lounge about a club in London. He was with her in the ranch as much as his other duties allowed. He had always stressed the importance of a good diet and exercise.

“I fell in love with you the moment I saw you, dearest. I only wish you were not afraid of the horses. It really is a wonderful past time and source of exercise. If you would give riding a chance, I am sure you would love it. And then we could all go riding together,” her father replied.

Her mother quickly shook her head. “Not I. Not in a million years will you see me ever get on a horse.”

Caroline sighed and turned her attention out the window once more. It was a pity that she would spend the evening in a dull drawing room, evading the advances of young gentlemen who wanted to dance. She would be able to think of nothing else that night, knowing that Prince waited for her in the ranch. Tomorrow morning could not come quickly enough. She was eager to begin work with her new steed.

Chapter One

London, July 1810

Elias Sorensen smiled as the older man came into the foyer to greet him. They shook hands, and the man all but pulled him toward the drawing room. “Come in, Sorensen. Come in. We are so thrilled to have you here with us tonight.”

“It is my pleasure, Lord Hawthorne. I hope the horse will be to your liking.”

“Yes, indeed. I have never seen a thoroughbred as beautiful. Nor as fast. I went down to the track this afternoon to see him run. By God, if we do not have a champion on our hands, I have never seen one.” Lord Hawthorne beamed from ear to ear, his cheeks bright red. Elias was unsure if this was because of his large girth or too much drink before dinner. Still, either way, it made him seem like a jolly depiction of Father Christmas.

“I am glad you’re pleased, my lord.” Elias felt slightly out of place with his American accent. Still, Lord Hawthorne did not even seem to notice what some would call a ‘rustic’ timbre. “How is Lady Hawthorne?”

“Oh, splendid. That is right, you came with your father a few years ago to deliver my last champion.” Lord Hawthorne halted outside the drawing room door. “I was so sorry to hear about your father. He was a good man.”

Elias nodded sadly. “Thank you, my lord. He always cherished your friendship. I just hope I can do as well as he did with the ranch.”

Lord Hawthorne clapped a hand on his shoulder with a good-natured grin. “I am sure you will do a splendid job, son. Now, shall we join the ladies?”

Lord Hawthorne opened the door, and Elias followed him, straightening his jacket. While he had worn the fine suit before, it was not what he was used to or preferred. However, he was willing to put up with an evening of discomfort in order to cater to his highest-paying clients. His ranch back in Kentucky depended on it.

“Here we are, my dears. Mr Sorensen has come to join us for dinner, to celebrate the fine stallion he has brought us.” Lord Hawthorne kept his hand on his shoulder, smiling at his wife and daughter as he made introductions. “You have asked after my wife already, Lady Hawthorne,” he said, motioning to her. Lady Hawthorne nodded with a smile.

She stepped forward, extending her hand. “Mr Sorensen. How good to see you again? It has been far too long since you brightened this drawing room with your tales of adventure from our cousins across the Pond.”

Elias laughed at this. People always seemed to think he was some kind of mountain man, begging him to regale them with stories of the wild. And while Kentucky was still a relatively new state, it was not quite as exciting as he sometimes exaggerated.

“I would be glad to tell you some of my adventures at dinner, my lady.” He kissed her hand and then turned to their young daughter. She smiled shyly, immediately putting him on the alert. She could not be more than fifteen years of age. Still, she had a look of open curiosity and interest he had seen several times in the drawing rooms across London. Were all debutantes so eager to marry?

“Good evening,” he said, nodding to her. She shot a nervous look at her mother, her smile widening. He thought he had made a mistake for a moment, but Lord Hawthorne quickly came to his aide.

“It is alright, Penelope. Mr Sorensen is a friend.” Lord Hawthorne turned to him to make introductions.

“This is my eldest daughter, Lady Penelope. Penelope, may I present Mr Sorensen?”

Elias extended his hand, and Penelope took it. Her hand was shaking. He bent slightly and kissed her hand, drawing a bright red blush up her neck and into her cheeks. She giggled and turned to her mother. “It is a pleasure, Lady Penelope.”

Lady Hawthorne nudged Penelope. “Well, greet our guest, darling. You have nothing to fear from him, I am sure.” She leaned in, whispering to him. “She has just come out and is a little nervous.”

“Quite alright,” he replied. He flashed a smile at Lady Penelope, trying to put her more at ease. “Lady Hawthorne is right. You have nothing to fear from me, Lady Penelope.”

She nodded, and Lord Hawthorne motioned to a side door a few paces away. “Shall we go into dinner?”

They followed him into the dining room and were soon seated around the large table. Elias could still not understand the English tradition of setting an elegant table when only four of them were present. They sat around the four sides of the table, with Lord and Lady Hawthorne at the head and foot and Elias and Penelope on either side. The distance between them made conversation more awkward than he would have liked. Hopefully, he was the only one who felt it.
Elias took a moment to look around the room as the first course was served. He needed to make a good impression now that he had inherited the ranch from his father. All responsibility for its success landed on his shoulders. And while his little brother, Jasper, was more than capable of running things in his absence, he would much rather be home. Being away from home was a necessary evil in his eyes. They needed to foster these relationships with their clients in England and France. However, after months at sea and several weeks visiting his clients in London, he was growing homesick.

“So, tell us the news from America, Elias. How is the ranch doing?” Lord Hawthorne asked and then dipped his spoon into his soup.

“The ranch is thriving, thanks to Jasper and my good friend, Hammond Roche. It was difficult after Papa died. But I think we’re getting back on our feet.”

“Is it true that savages roam the woods of Kentucky?” Lady Penelope leaned forward and blurted, earning a scathing look from her mother. She hung her head, leaning back in her chair.

Elias cleared his throat. “The Cherokee people are a noble tribe but have been forced to leave the area either through warfare or resettlement by the United States government. We do not see many raids anymore. We have seen more aggression from the British government in recent years than the Indians.”

A tense silence settled over the room. Lord Hawthorne sighed heavily. “Well, it is a pity that no one can seem to get along.” He quickly changed the subject, for which Elias was grateful. He should never have brought up the rising tensions and conflict between the two nations. However, with the British enforcing sanctions and practicing impressment into their Navy of American citizens, it was only natural that things were coming to a head. Elias needed to keep his contracts intact if the ranch was to survive. If things kept going the way they were with the border disputes, America and the United Kingdom might once find themselves in a war.

However, Elias kept these thoughts to himself, joining back into the conversation which had turned to the Season. “I have never been to one of these debutante ceremonies before. What are they like, Lady Penelope?”

Lady Penelope blushed furiously once more. “The presentation was very overwhelming. But Her Majesty was kind to me.”

“Penelope is being modest. Her Majesty was very impressed with the grace and fortitude that Penelope showed during the presentation. I will not be surprised if she has several offers this summer.”

Lady Penelope hung her head, but her eyes were filled with longing when she looked back at Elias. He cleared his throat, wishing he had not asked. The last thing he wanted was to give the girl false hope, for he had no intention of falling in love.

“Have you any good racers this year, Elias?” Lord Hawthorne asked.

“I have one who has been showing some promise. I do not have as much time as I used to for training racehorses. My time is taken up with running the ranch and overseeing the breeding operation.”

“Breeding? How very fascinating—”Lady Penelope began. However, her mother quickly cut her off.

“I do not think that is appropriate dinner table talk. Tell us about your family, Mr Sorensen. Are you married?”

Elias nearly choked on his soup. He covered his mouth with his napkin, wiping his mouth to try and stall for time. Lady Hawthorne and Penelope waited with bated breath when he looked up again. He shook his head. “I am not married yet, no. But I hope to marry when I return home.”

“Oh? You are engaged then?” Lady Hawthorne went on, her voice polite and intrigued. She moved to the side slightly as the footmen began clearing the soup course. There was a pause as the next course of roasted mutton and boiled potatoes were served. Elias started in, longing for a meal of venison stew. These lavish English meals mixed with little exercise were beginning to give him a sizable paunch.

“I am not engaged, my lady,” Elias said nothing else. The pain in his heart was fading with time, but even thinking about Hannah’s lovely face twisted in pain brought back all the terrible memories of her last days. He did not want to get into that horrible turn of events from years past, so he tried to think of something to say to steer the conversation back to safe waters.

“Well, you have plenty of time, being such a strong and handsome young man. I would not be surprised if a young lady snatches you up in no time.” Lord Hawthorne teased. “Indeed, I think there are many a young English lady who would sacrifice their life here in London to follow you across the Atlantic. There are not many men who can boast of fortune and good looks, as well as having the wisdom to hold on to them.”

Elias shook his head, laughing as he caught another curious glance from Lady Penelope. She would not last a week in the Kentucky wilderness with her slight build and shyness. He needed a woman who was used to hard work and was not afraid to get her hands dirty. No, Lady Penelope would be much better suited to the lavish life she could live in her comfortable parlour here in England.

“I am afraid my life in America would not suit most women. If I do ever marry, it will likely be a young widow with a brood of young-un’s grasping at her skirts.” He was sorry for the disappointed look that crossed Lady Penelope’s face, but it was better that he nipped that idea in the bud now, before it had time to bloom. And not only in Lady Penelope’s mind but also in her mother’s. It seemed that the mothers of these debutantes were even more relentless when it came to finding husbands for their children than the young ladies themselves.

Lord Hawthorne turned the conversation to politics and business, dominating most of the conversation for the rest of dinner. Elias was relieved when the meal ended, and the ladies withdrew to the drawing room while he and Lord Hawthorne stayed in the dining room. Lord Hawthorne lit his pipe, and the butler came in to pour Scotch into sparkling crystal glasses. Elias let out a contented sigh and sipped at his drink.

“When do you leave for America?” Lord Hawthorne asked.

“My ship leaves at the end of the week,” Elias said. Lord Hawthorne raised his glass.

“Well, I wish you luck, son. And do come see us again soon. By then, we will likely have a champion racer to show you.” Elias raised his glass and nodded in agreement. Secretly, he was glad that he would not have to cross the Atlantic again anytime soon. The sales from this trip would allow them to seek more clients in America. He closed his eyes, imagining the quietness of his home back in Kentucky. Soon, very soon, you will be home, Elias.

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“A Charming Stranger for the Lady” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Lady Caroline Russell is a fiery lady with a passion for horses, and a disdain for finding suitors, despite her mother’s expectation of marrying a rich lord. When she and her father find themselves a horse they are unable to handle, she finds the recently appeared trainer from Kentucky the only solution to their problem. However, after her very first encounter with him, she realises it is best to try and focus on her beloved horse to avoid being lost in the handsome trainer’s eyes…

Will Caroline manage to convince him to come to her aid and share more than his training wisdom with her?

Elias Sorensen is a world-renowned horse trainer with a thriving ranch in his home-state of Kentucky. With a successful business in England and Europe alike, he is not only sought after for his racing expertise, but he has also caught the attention of London’s ladies. When Lady Caroline comes calling, just days before he leaves, his plans of returning to the calmness of a simpler life come crashing down. However, her gentle eyes and unique passion seem to be worth the hassle…

Little did he know just how much this woman would mean to him…

The tenderness between Caroline and Elias grows slowly but strongly, and they only realise it when they reach a point of no return. Will they be able to overcome the pressures from her parents and the shadowy past of tragedy he carries? Or will they be doomed to spend the rest of their lives alone, separated by an ocean of regret?

“A Charming Stranger for the Lady” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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