Mesmerised by a Noble Stranger (Preview)

Chapter One

Lady Mary Goldfield fanned herself with the little, white-laced fan that she’d found among her mother’s belongings after her mother passed away. It was hot in the grand, bright ballroom, but Mary was thrilled by the energy that surrounded her. There was a buzz of excitement in the air, as though everyone was there for no other reason than the thrill of the dance.

Everyone, of course, except for Charlotte and Lady Rachel.

Mary glanced at her stepmother and stepsister, who were busy as ever with their gossip. Charlotte was the absolute image of her mother, with rich, dark brown hair and striking green eyes. She had the same curved figure that drew the attention of men throughout the room with ease.

Charlotte and Mary could not have been more different. With bright, blue eyes and white-blonde curls, a figure that was often described as petite by those who wished a compliment and small by those who wished to insult, Mary resembled her mother as well—as far as she could remember.

But after Lady Rachel lost her husband and Mary’s father lost his wife, it was considered a beneficial union for the two of them to marry. And now, Lady Rachel, Charlotte, and Mary stood together, having just entered the hall.

“She is absolutely hideous. And I have no doubt those pearls are paste,” Charlotte hissed, noting that Lady Maven was dancing with Lord Waller. Charlotte had danced with him at the previous ball and Mary knew that Charlotte would have liked to dance with him again. But the way he was looking at Lady Maven made it perfectly clear that no other woman mattered to him that evening.

“Of course they are paste. Her father owns property, but that means nothing. It is not as though he has any great business,” Lady Rachel agreed.

“If he is able to afford property, could he not also afford a necklace?” Mary asked, thinking it the logical question.

Lady Rachel and Charlotte gave her the same blank stare. Mary had seen that stare often enough in the past couple of years. She knew that they disliked it when she pointed out a flaw in their complaining.

“Perhaps you ought to let us speak of what we know. After all, you have very little experience with women such as her,” Charlotte snapped.

“Regardless, I would say that Lady Maven is not the most scandalous attendee here this evening,” Lady Rachel said, moving the conversation along. “Did you not see that Lord and Lady Winston are present? You know, her cousin works in trade. I am shocked they were even invited this evening!”

Mary remained silent, not wishing to engage in this unnecessary chatter. The last thing she wanted was to remain privy to gossip like this. She believed that there was so much more to women like Lady Maven than her pearls, or Lady Winston and her cousin’s work in trade. It was unfair to decide their worth based on such little things.

But she knew that the conversation would not cease soon. Her stepmother and stepsister were always looking for others to speak of poorly. It was simply how they enjoyed spending their time at balls. They would dance with a charming man and then chatter about some poor soul and her perceived failures.

Lady Rachel gasped and Mary nearly jumped from the surprise, but her stepmother looked at Charlotte with a twisted delight in her eyes.

“Do you see her?” Lady Rachel asked with a girlish laugh, far too young for a woman such as herself.

“Good heavens! Is that Lydia Crenshaw?” Charlotte asked.

“This must be her first time in public since the birth of that child of hers. The child born a mere seven and a half months after her wedding,” Lady Rachel said with clear intention.

“And they claim that the child came early?” Charlotte giggled.

“The two of you are not to speak with her. Not at all. It would make you equally culpable for her guilt,” Lady Rachel warned.

Mary sighed and looked around the grand room, trying to ignore the continued talking of her stepmother and Charlotte. She had no desire to listen to any more of this and knew that the only way to avoid it was to find someone else with whom she could spend her time.

At last, she spotted Sarah down near the end of the hall with a few of the other women of lower rank. Knowing that her stepmother would object if Mary mentioned whom she was going to, Mary slipped away quietly. Once she could no longer hear Lady Rachel and Charlotte, she was deeply relieved.

Mary smiled with gentility as she made her way through the throng of people, each vying for the attention of this or that man or woman. The room was brightly lit, and all were dressed to the height of fashion. The music played a jaunty tune and the dancers laughed and grinned as they pranced through the motions. There was a lovely floral scent in the air, mingling with the sweetness of sherry and small cakes and cookies for the guests to indulge.

The whole evening was a show, but it was a show that she would have enjoyed much more if there was an ounce of honesty. Unfortunately, Mary knew, most of what she saw was a matter of every man and woman simply trying to put on their best face for the sake of attention.

By the time she reached Sarah, Mary was eager to have a moment with someone she knew to be entirely genuine.

“Mary! There you are. I had hoped you were already here,” Sarah said with excitement.

“Yes, of course. Lady Rachel and Charlotte would never have allowed us to be anything more than fashionably late. You know how they are,” Mary said with a light smirk.

“Indeed, I do,” Sarah sighed, evidently as discouraged as Mary was.

“I do hope that one day, I may be able to escape their incessant gossip. As it is, I think my father would sooner forget I exist than come and rescue me from them,” Mary said, without a hint of self-pity in her tone. She knew that Sarah was the one person she could speak to with all honesty and not be accused of complaining.

“Your father would gladly come rescue you, but you have not told him what they are like. He is not aware that they make you so miserable,” Sarah reasoned.

Mary said nothing in reply but maintained her light-hearted demeanour. The last thing she wanted was to let the conversation turn dour. She understood that it was difficult for her father. He was a good man, but a man with a great many interests and he could not always set them aside to come and be with Mary. Since the death of Mary’s mother, her father had not been overly keen on spending time with her, and it made sense. After all, Mary resembled her mother in more ways than just her appearance. It had to be difficult for her father to face her.

“Enough about me, Sarah. How are you enjoying the evening? Have any gentlemen caught your attention? Have you plans to dance with anyone yet?” Mary asked.

Sarah grinned, shyly, and nodded over Mary’s left shoulder.

“And who is that?” Mary asked with barely a glance so that they were not caught looking at the man.

“I haven’t the faintest idea, but he is extremely handsome and I cannot help noticing him. But, of course, he has not looked in my direction and I am certain that I would not be to his liking,” Sarah said, adding the last with the same nonchalant acceptance that Mary so often used.

It was a sad truth, but Sarah was quite likely to find herself as a spinster. Her family had no great fortune or title, but rather lived as respected members of the community. Her elder sisters had dried up the funds her father had for dowries, making it nearly impossible to find a match. And while Mary thought Sarah was a lovely, beautiful woman, others described her as plain.

But the tall, mousy woman who had already seen four seasons prior to this one was Mary’s dearest friend. Mary simply wished that others could see the wonderful heart that Sarah had and that they would know what a great woman she truly was.

“You ought to speak with him,” Mary said, thinking Sarah should not give up hope so quickly.

“And why would I do that?” Sarah laughed. “It would hardly be proper for me to approach any man.”

“No, but you could not be found guilty if you accidentally bump into him whilst you are making your way through the crowd of guests. And if you bump into him, it is only polite that you apologise with a demure curtsey,” Mary said, smiling as she suggested the plot.

But Sarah was adamantly opposed, just as Mary knew she would be. Sarah’s eyes went wide with shock, and she shook her head quickly.

“I could never do such a thing! He would know. My cheeks would burn red, and he would know that I had done it with intention. I am certain there are any number of young ladies here tonight who are using that very tactic as a means of being noticed,” Sarah said.

Just then, Mary looked across the room and saw Charlotte bumping into a gentleman and then expressing surprise and apology. It was clearly orchestrated, and Mary laughed to herself, knowing that Sarah was right. With so many people at the ball, it was easy for any woman to pretend that she had bumped a man by mistake so she might garner his attention.

“Very well. If you think it would not work, you may simply continue gazing upon the handsome gentleman. But if you have any other thoughts as to how we might enjoy ourselves this evening, I would be so delighted to hear your ideas,” Mary said.

She didn’t dislike balls in general, but she always felt overwhelmed when she attended them. It had certainly gotten worse since Lady Rachel entered her life. Balls were now a dreadful game. Mary had to balance caution with enthusiasm. She had to refrain from engaging with any gentleman Charlotte may have an interest in, but she also had to appear excited and respectable on behalf of the family.

Lady Rachel wanted Mary out of the way. One option was to marry her off, but only if she could find the right man. Lady Rachel needed to ensure that it was not a man so good that he might be better for Charlotte, but he had to be good enough for the family to be tied to. She had made it so complicated that Mary usually just wanted to escape. She longed for a time when she could actually enjoy the dancing and company without fearing the wrath of her stepmother.

“Oh, did you see that?” Sarah asked, taking Mary by the arm.

“What is it?”

“I see pastries. Hundreds of them resting on silver platters. I think we must go and ensure that Charlotte is not tempted. Lady Rachel insists that she keep her waist trim, correct? We might be able to help if we eat all the pastries before Charlotte notices them,” Sarah said, grinning broadly.

Mary laughed and shook her head.

“Oh, dear! I think you have found a wisdom the likes of which Lady Rachel is unprepared for. But I do think it is an excellent idea and if you think that we might be able to help Charlotte and any other young woman here tonight, we ought to make haste,” Mary said, going along with Sarah.

Neither woman was a glutton; they were simply happy to have an easy task that would get them out of the way of everyone else. And Mary needed that more than anything—she needed to be away from her stepmother and stepsister.

She longed for a day to come when there might be something better for her. Maybe a day when her father would realise she was unhappy. Or maybe a day when someone else would sweep her away from this life into one of hope and peace.

 

Chapter Two

“Come now, Crispin, you must show more enthusiasm than this,” Harry urged, trying to drum up some excitement for the ball.

But Lord Crispin Dunaway, the Duke of Hanbrooke, had little interest in being present that evening. He had never enjoyed social activities, preferring to keep to himself. He was not good at being amongst others. He knew not how to play the game of social elegance and the politics which surrounded such events.

“I know, Harry,” he replied to his cousin, sighing with regret that he had agreed to attend. But he’d had little choice otherwise; it would not have done well for him to remain absent.

“If you know, then why are you not more excited to be here? You say that you understand the importance of attending balls, but you are always so dour about them,” Harry said.

“That is simply because they never seem to be what I anticipate. I am always hopeful that they will be as they are in books, but the reality is quite different,” Crispin remarked, scanning the overcrowded hall. He could hardly discern one person from the next. There were too many guests for him to see whom he ought to engage.

“How so? What is so wrong with balls?”

Crispin looked at his cousin with a dry expression, bored and expecting more boredom to come. He found the affairs to be stressful and unnecessary. They were far too overwhelming. People were constantly attempting to show themselves as great and important when, in truth, they were arrogant and self-indulgent.

But Crispin hardly knew the majority of the people at the balls he attended. It was so rare to have a conversation that was not awkward or stilted and he struggled to accept that he would have to attempt speaking with anyone when all he really wanted was to smile, acknowledge his host, and then depart in a hurry so he was not forced to chatter on about silly things.

“Crispin? Did you hear me? Why do you find balls so contemptible?” Harry asked again.

“Because no one is themselves, Harry. They are a version that may as well be disregarded for the unfruitful narcissists they are,” Crispin replied, rather harshly. He enjoyed the music, but that was the only thing. And he preferred the slower paced dances, the ones where he could still hear himself think.

“Well, that is quite a strong opinion. You ought to consider that there are people here who are very much like you. People who care about the time they have here. There are those who enjoy getting to see friends and family they are typically unable to spend time with,” Harry reminded him.

“Then they ought to host dinner parties for one another. Just because I am not eager to be like them does not mean I care to be unpleasant. I simply wish that dances and such events were as exciting and joyful as they are always said to be. But for someone such as myself, someone who prefers to keep his own company, this is a very difficult position,” Crispin said.

He tried to be delicate, but he was aware that he was complaining. Harry understood Crispin well enough to know that his introversion was simply a part of him, but Harry was also a good deal more excited to be out and entertaining others. This opportunity to dance and meet with others was a wonderful time. Crispin could not possibly manage to view it that way.

“There is a way to find it more enjoyable, you know,” Harry said. “You must try harder. I know that it is not what you wish to hear, but if you participate more, you will see what I mean.”

“And how am I to participate?” Crispin asked.

“You must dance, of course! That is the easiest way. Any woman in this room would be delighted to dance with you. Look at you, with your black hair and strikingly blue eyes—even my mother has spoken of her wonder that you have not yet found a wife. She said that she knows a great many women who would dearly love a man who looks like you,” Harry said.

Crispin laughed, thinking that was nonsense. His aunt had probably been speaking about it simply because she wanted him and Harry to both find wives as quickly as possible. That was the duty of any female relative. All they wanted was for the men to be married off quickly.

“Your mother, I am certain, was urging you to marry when she mentioned this?” Crispin asked, knowingly.

“She speaks of nothing else,” Harry confirmed.

“Very well, then. I accept the compliment that my hair and eyes are attractive enough to warrant her comment. Perhaps I do not understand it, but she is very kind to have said it,” Crispin said.

“If you are going to accept it then you must also accept that you should find a woman to dance with this evening. She does not have to be anything special—just someone who can keep pace with you,” Harry suggested.

“And who might that be? I do not know a single woman here this evening, as far as I am aware. So why would I force myself to dance with anyone? I cannot imagine enjoying it if all I am to hear is the same gossip that is always shared at these evenings,” Crispin said, hating the cruel remarks that so often were made.

“Not everyone has such a pointed tongue. In fact, I can think of a family who are quite different from that,” Harry said.

“Oh? How so?” Crispin asked, not having very high hopes.

“They are quite dignified, and they have raised their daughters well—they have many daughters, actually. The Lambtons. I am certain I may find you a partner amongst them,” Harry said.

Crispin looked at him curiously. He hadn’t expected to be pushed into a dance with anyone that evening, but Harry appeared determined enough to make it happen. No matter how uncomfortable Crispin was with the idea, he could see in Harry’s eyes that this had already been decided and there was nothing more to be said about it.

“Is she going to insist upon gossip?” he asked with hesitation.

“Absolutely not. That is precisely why I think you ought to dance with one of them. They are good women, and their father is very respectful and has raised them to be the same. They do not bother themselves with folly and mockery,” Harry replied.

It sounded promising, but Crispin was still hesitant. He did not know if he trusted that any woman present that evening could show honour and class as opposed to speaking poorly of others.

Nevertheless, he followed as Harry led him through the hall. It was clear that Harry had his sights set upon a pair of young women near the refreshments. He could see one woman who appeared lovely enough, although somewhat older than most of the other young ladies and, perhaps, a bit plain in comparison. The other, he saw only from behind, but her white-blonde hair was pinned up nicely.

“Come, Crispin. You will see. The Lambton women are decent, and Miss Lambton and her friend will prove to you that they are worth the conversation,” Harry said.

Still not believing his cousin, Crispin stayed with him. After all, he had to socialise no matter what. And if not with the Lambtons, then who?

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“Mesmerised by a Noble Stranger” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Although Lady Mary Goldfield hates attending balls with her stepmother and stepsister, she is surprised to discover a pleasant distraction from their gossip. Upon meeting Lord Hanbrooke, Mary feels relieved she has finally found someone to match her taste in books and intellect. When her stepmother appears displeased with this sudden fascination though, Mary knows that it is only a matter of time before her dreams with the charming duke start crumbling.

How will she defeat her stepmother’s wicked scheme to snatch Lord Handbrook for her own daughter?

Lord Crispin Dunaway, Duke of Hanbrooke, would rather be in the company of books than that of people. That is why he is shocked when he realises how compelling Lady Mary’s presence is to him, and not just because she is stunningly beautiful. Although it is clear that her stepmother and stepsister have other plans for him, Crispin cannot get a courtship with Lady Mary out of his mind. Does he have the will to get past everyone determined to stand between them?

Little did they know that as soon as a romance would flourish between them, unthinkable events would take place…

With endless lies and manipulation risking Mary’s reputation, Crispin is not sure what to believe. His feelings for Lady Mary become a web of confusion and Mary is on the verge of being ruined forever. Will the forces of darkness around them have their way? Or will love give Crispin and Mary the power to fight for what gives meaning to their lives?

“Mesmerised by a Noble Stranger” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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