In the Name of a Lady (Preview)

Chapter One

The tightness in Anne’s waist lessened as the corset slackened, laces loosening enough to allow her a deep breath in. The floor length mirror in front of her showed Anne’s curvaceous, if somewhat stocky build. Behind her, moving lower down the corset, her maid Jane offered a smile.

“I know today has been difficult for you, my Lady, but get a good night’s sleep and everything will feel so much better. Don’t you think?”

Anne’s frown deepened. Behind her, across the enormous and lavishly decorated bedroom, her bed awaited. Yet Anne couldn’t imagine sleeping just yet, not when her mind was whirling with so many thoughts. The corset finally slipped free of her waist and Anne sighed in relief, finally able to breathe fully. Her mother often said that corsets were just something a woman had to get used to, but at twenty years old, she hadn’t gotten used to them yet. 

Jane sent her an affectionate smile. While Anne was curvaceous, Jane was thin and petite. Wiry, even. She had to stand on her toes to reach Anne’s neck and remove the silver necklace, before setting it aside on the dark oak vanity table to her left. “Your father only has your best interests at heart – he’s a good man, even if his judgement is clouded. I promise, once you sleep, tomorrow will feel brighter.”

Anne stared at herself in the reflection. Her dark hair was still tied into the elegant bun she always wore, her face still blushed with rouge. Yet there were dark circles beneath her eyes that weren’t usually there, and a tightness in her lips. “I’ve been twenty for almost half a year now, and he’s right that I’m far overdue to be married. I just… I wish it wasn’t something that was expected of me to begin with.” A deep breath, followed by a shaky smile. “But I’ll dedicate myself to finding a good husband and do everything that Father asks of me. It’s only fair.”

Jane saw through her false bravery. Having been in Anne’s service since she was seventeen, and Anne only twelve, they had eight years to get to know each other. Eight years for Jane to understand how Anne’s inner thoughts worked. With a sigh, she gestured to the vanity table. “Please my Lady, sit so I can do your hair. If you really don’t want this, why go along with it?”

“Because he’s my father, and I don’t wish to disappoint him?” Anne swept across the bedroom to drop into the tall wooden chair at the vanity, arms folded across her chest. It wasn’t very ladylike, but she didn’t need to pretend around Jane. In this whole manor, she was perhaps the one person that Anne could call a friend. “Honestly,” she added, as Jane began to pull hairpins from the bun, “I’ve known this day was coming. I only hope that whoever I end up marrying, is someone kind.”

Jane slid another pin from Anne’s dark hair, dropping it into the little glass bowl at the edge of the vanity. This was their ritual every night, and Jane always took extra care with Anne’s hair. Perhaps, her own hair being a bright and messy ginger, Jane wished to keep Anne’s own dark curls perfect.

Slowly, her hair began to spill across her shoulders, as it was freed from the bun. It wasn’t as long as some girls’, but instead rested just below her shoulder blades in loose ringlets. There was no need for sleeping in rags to achieve those curls. Anne had, as Father had pointed out earlier today, the kind of natural hair that lots of gentlemen adored.

Which brought Anne right back around to thinking about it all over again. Father’s talk this evening had left her head spinning.

As the last hair pin came free, Jane gave a smile. Yet it faltered when she locked eyes with Anne. “My Lady, there’s something still on your mind. Do you wish to talk about it?”

Anne’s nose wrinkled. Did she want to talk? The obvious answer was yes, of course, but the more she thought about it… well, the more that Anne convinced herself to keep these worries to herself. It wasn’t fair to burden others with her own problems.

Except, now Jane was looking at her with those wide, sincere blue eyes, reflected in the vanity mirror, and she looked so genuinely concerned. Her small hand was still clutching the last hair pin, as if she had forgotten it was even there.

So Anne gave in. Lips pursed, she sank lower in her seat and gave a heavy sigh. “It’s only that I’ve never actually met a man I liked, and certainly all of the men I have met have all been self involved and rude. What if I can’t find someone suitable at all, or Father forces me to marry someone of his choosing, and I’m stuck with someone selfish or cruel?”

“Lord Banbury wouldn’t do that to you, my Lady.”

“You don’t know that, and neither do I. The older I am, the harder it will be to find a man who’s even interested in me.” The words left a sour taste in her mouth. Why was it perfectly acceptable for a gentleman to remain unmarried, but when it was a woman, suddenly everyone had an opinion?

Jane made a clicking sound and shook her head – it might have looked like she was scolding Anne, had she not been smiling gently. “You overthink too much. Why, we don’t know what will happen, so why worry about the possibilities?”

“Because they’re possible,” Anne replied. The bedroom was cool, despite the fire blazing at the opposite end, and she shivered. Even here, in the one place she found comfortable, Anne couldn’t truly relax. Not with all of this weighing down on her. “Since Mother died, I know I’ve fallen behind other girls. I missed my first Season because of mourning, and by then it was too late to catch up. I’d lost all interest anyway – I still have, it’s just that now I don’t have a choice.”

Reaching for the brush, Jane began to carefully run it through Anne’s curls. She was always gentle, but perhaps tonight even more so than usual. “I can’t claim to know everything about the life of a Lady,” she spoke slowly, but her clear voice still rang through the quiet room. “I can’t claim to know much at all, except what I’ve seen, but I do know you. Forgive me if I speak out of turn, my Lady, but I think you’ve become used to Lord Banbury’s – your father’s – reclusive life. But perhaps change isn’t always a bad thing.”

Anne didn’t answer right away. Instead, she closed her eyes and gave in to the gentle tug of the brush through her hair, the scrape of it against her scalp. Brushing her hair was no easy task, but Jane had a way of making it almost enjoyable. 

When she didn’t reply right away, Jane added. “There are plenty of good men out there, you just haven’t met them yet.”

Unconvinced, Anne rolled her eyes. “If I haven’t met them yet, that’s because they don’t exist.”

Jane paused, the brush still clutched in her hand. When Anne looked up, she was staring off into the distance. She was lost in thought, lips pursed and eyes narrowed. Then, “I think I may be able to help you.”

Anne’s blue eyes twinkled. “What do you mean?”

Jane’s own eyes met hers. Her slender face split into a broad smile as she set the brush down, then proceeded to perch on the edge of the sturdy vanity. Thankfully, it was strong enough to take her small frame. “Well you see, I have a brother – Joseph – who works for Lord Banbury. He’s the new man servant, and he just started this week. Lord Banbury likes him already, or so Joseph says.”

Where exactly was this going? Anne squinted up at Jane, as if she could somehow see into Jane’s mind. Of course she couldn’t, and her only choice was to wait for her to continue. 

The fire didn’t quite reach them here by the vanity table and mirror, but the dim glow lit up Jane’s face and made her eyes sparkle. “What I’m trying to say is,” she continued brightly, “I can have Joseph whispering in your father’s ears. Making suggestions. If I can communicate with him what needs done, you can have anything you want.”

Anne stared. Did she really think that Father was so easily manipulated? He was a kind man, when he wanted to be, but also tough. Self assured. And once he decided what he wanted, nobody could stop him.

Jane’s smile softened. She shifted, planting her feet firmly on the ground, before turning to Anne. “I know what you’re thinking. I sound ridiculous, don’t I? Doesn’t it make sense, though? Perhaps some subtle nudging and gentle words will make him understand what you want, and make this whole thing easier for both of you. I don’t mean that we’ll demand anything outrageous; only that with Joseph’s help we could perhaps convince Lord Banbury to stop being so harsh on you.”

Until recently, Anne had never thought of Father as harsh at all. He was a lenient parent, suited to an isolated country life and content to allow his daughter the same. It wasn’t until her twentieth birthday that things changed, and he began asking more of her. Reminding her that she was of marrying age. Past marrying age. Most of all, it wasn’t until today that he was really insistent about any of it – but now he had created an entire schedule for her, packed with social events and balls where she might meet a potential husband. There was hardly any time left for anything else, and it all started next week.

It was already Friday.

If Anne was truthful, she didn’t expect Jane’s plan to go anywhere. Father’s mind was set, and he wasn’t going to listen to the word of a servant he had only known for a week. Yet when Jane looked at her with those big, eager eyes, Anne found the tension slipping away. She thought, maybe, that it wouldn’t be so horrible to have someone whispering in Father’s ear, after all. “Are you sure it will work?” she asked nervously, “I don’t want him finding out that we’re behind this.” 

Jane’s responding grin was utterly convincing. “It will be fine,” she insisted cheerfully, and her cheer was spreading even to Anne. “Joseph and I have always been close, so he’ll do almost anything I ask – and I think a part of him quite enjoys keeping secrets, so he won’t tell anyone what we’re up to.”

If they could guarantee Joseph’s secrecy, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. At worst, nothing changed and Anne still had to continue on as expected. At best, as unlikely as it was, she wouldn’t have to marry anyone at all. The thought was enough to make her stomach flip, but she shoved down her feelings and straightened her back. “Then I suppose it would be silly not to agree, wouldn’t it?”

Jane nodded. “Exactly, my Lady. I will talk to Joseph tomorrow at breakfast. Now, please get some rest, all right? It will do wonders for your mood, and tomorrow will look so much better if you’re well rested.”

Although it was late, sleep wasn’t yet tugging at the back of Anne’s mind. The old clock by the dresser said that it was a little after ten o’clock, which was when she usually chose to retire for bed, but there was simply too much on her mind to even hope for it. Still, she could at least try to sleep.

Her bed was an enormous four poster framed by the tall window on the opposite wall, which allowed light to filter through the curtains in the early morning. It was adorned with half a dozen cushions of various colour and pattern, although each was removed before Anne climbed beneath the covers. The bed sheets were thick and soft, as was the blanket that lay across her feet, and Anne was surprised to note that the softness was lulling her to sleep already.

“I’ll see to the fire,” Jane said softly, as she bent to spread the embers. She knew even without asking that Anne preferred to sleep in total darkness. Now that the fire was dimming, the light diminishing, Jane was being slowly enveloped by the dark. The fire wouldn’t go out immediately though, leaving a dim enough glow to illuminate Jane’s slender face. “Is there anything else you need?”

Anne fought back a yawn. “No, thank you.” She offered Jane a smile. 

“Then I will see you tomorrow, my Lady.”

Always formal, even when they spoke as friends do. In the eight years since Jane had become her maid, and then her friend, she always kept the right amount of distance so the lines were never quite blurred. Jane’s quiet footsteps travelled the room, and the door creaked as she slipped into the dimly lit hall.

“Oh Jane?” Anne said just before she left. Jane paused, and Anne continued, “thank you, for today. I didn’t realise… well, I didn’t realise how much I needed to talk to someone.”

Jane’s smile was as bright as ever, brightened even more by the flickering hallway lamps. “I’m always glad to help, you know that. Now, just remember what I said about Joseph, and I’ll see if there’s anything else I can do, too.”

“You don’t have to do anything else,” Anne reassured, “this is more than enough.” And it was true, because Jane did so much for Anne that went beyond what was expected of a maid. Beyond what was expected of anyone. Anne doubted that she even realised most of what she did, because it seemed to just come naturally to her.

Jane simply nodded in acknowledgement, before slipping through the door. It closed softly behind her, blocking out the last of the light as Anne was delved into total darkness. Even the fire was almost entirely depleted now.

Anne took a moment to stare up at the murky ceiling, tugging the bed sheets around her shoulders. Now that she was in bed, sleep was finally overcoming her, and even her racing mind couldn’t stave it off forever. She only hoped that Jane was right, and that sleep would make her feel better in the morning.

Turning onto her side, Anne buried her face into the pillow and finally let herself fall into unconsciousness. Despite her concerns, she slept the night through.

 

Chapter Two

 The first of many balls that Father forced Anne to attend was hosted by Lord and Lady Allen. They owned a beautiful country home that sprawled for several acres, elegantly designed to look more expensive than it really was, because everyone knew that the Lord and Lady were all about appearances, but were loathe to spend money on the important things.

It was still breath taking though, as Anne climbed down her carriage steps and gazed up at the manor in front of her. White marble steps lead to a wide double door, which was now open to reveal the beautiful white foyer inside. Several guests were already gathering there, chatting and laughing as they made their way inside, but that hardly took away from the beauty of the manor itself. If anything, it only made it more magnificent, showcasing its sheer size compared to the guests.

Father rolled his eyes, but his smile was kind. “Our home isn’t so different to this, you know. Why is this so special?”

Anne felt herself flush. “I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug – only to wince. Her wine-red dress was elegant and slender, but the puffy shoulders made it so awkward to move in. Although Jane had insisted that the silhouette made her curves look lovely, all Anne could think about was how uncomfortable it was to wear. 

Father was in a dark red waistcoat of his own, embroidered with white thread that matched the pale silver of his hair, and Anne had to admit that he looked quite dashing. After Mother died, he decided not to remarry – but Anne rather thought that there were plenty of women who would have been delighted to be the focus of his affections.

Although Anne was grateful that he never married another after Mother, the unfairness was not lost on her. Why was she expected to marry, when the same expectations were not applied to him? She was still too focused on those thoughts as they entered the manor, even as she handed her coat to the footman. 

There was no more time to think about anything after that though, as the noise of the ballroom grew and Father towed her towards the entrance. Already, the ballroom was filled with other guests; women in colourful dresses, their hair curled and piled high above their heads. Men in tight waistcoats, their hair slicked back to perfection, gloved hands reaching out to ask the women to dance.

“Ah, Lord Banbury,” a voice called to their left. It was Lord Allen, his brown eyes warm. “And Lady Banbury too. How nice to see you both!” He shook Father’s hand, greeting him with the warmth of an old friend despite the fact they hardly spoke. 

Lady Allen stayed politely behind her husband, offering only the greetings as necessary. She was a woman after Anne’s own heart, preferring to stay in the background rather than pull attention to herself.

After they were greeted and announced, Father took Anne aside to offer his reassurances. Perhaps he saw in her eyes that she was nervous. Or perhaps, being unused to this himself, it was for his own benefit too. “Now, I know it has been a while since either of us have attended a real ball, but you have to remember that it isn’t as frightening as you think.”

Feeling her stomach stir, she only nodded.

“We’re in familiar company, and you’ve met plenty of these people before. Ah, see? I see Lady Bartrum now.”

Anne’s blue eyes flickered up to see that Father was right. Lady Bartrum was their closest neighbour, a friendly woman a little older than Father himself. She had a kind smile and a motherly laugh, something that Anne had always liked. She couldn’t help but smile as Lady Bartrum approached, and offered a nervous wave.

Today, Lady Bartrum’s golden brown hair was done into a thick, heavy bun with loose strands trailing down her back. It was perhaps a style favoured by people younger than her, but she looked lovely nonetheless. In fact, it made her somewhat round face look youthful. “It’s good to see you both,” she said happily, “how are you both?”

Father smiled. “We’re well. I hope you are too?”

“Oh, perfectly.”

Father smiled again, and it was the kind of expression that made Anne wince. “Lady Bartrum, would you be kind enough to keep my Anne company while I visit the smoking room? Perhaps help her to find a nice young gentleman to dance with?”

Ah, there it was. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but still made Anne scowl. She knew why she was here, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with in the end. Biting down on her lip, Anne wanted to speak – only to be cut off by Lady Bartrum.

“I’d be delighted to,” she replied brightly, “don’t you worry about Anne.”

Father seemed to relax, shoulders slumping. “Yes, thank you. I know you will take good care of her.” Then he placed a hand on Anne’s narrow shoulder and added, “I’m sure there are plenty of men who would love to dance with you.”

Anne wasn’t so sure, but she said nothing as Papa took his leave. She watched him weave through the crowd with a frown, unable to shake the feeling that his early exit was a ploy to have Mrs Bartrum take control. If there was one thing that Anne knew about their neighbour, it was that she loved setting women up with eligible bachelors.

“Now I know these things can be intimidating,” Mrs Bartrum said kindly, “but I assure you, you will enjoy yourself.” Together, they wandered to the refreshments table where several other guests sipped from tall wine glasses. Mrs Bartrum poured them both a glass of punch before turning to the crowd. “Isn’t it beautiful? Lord and Lady Allen have outdone themselves.”

Anne only hummed in reply. The punch was sweet and fruity, but thick like syrup rather than a drink. At least the music was lovely, a cheerful country tune that echoed in Anne’s ears. Her own favoured instrument was the harp, or perhaps piano, but there was something about this particular band that had her smiling anyway.

“Now, I promised your father I would find you a dance partner. There’s my nephew, we should say hello.”

Only vaguely aware that Lady Bartrum even had a nephew, Anne allowed herself to be towed along. They paused in front of a tall, gangly sort of boy with a shock of pale blond hair. To Anne, he looked hardly older than a child.

“My dear Lady Banbury, this is my nephew Stuart. Stuart, please meet Lady Anne Banbury, daughter of the Duke of Woodstock.”

The boy – Stuart – flushed scarlet, which was only made more obvious by how pale he was. Even Anne, who spent most of her time indoors, wasn’t so frightfully pale. Yet his smile was kind, if nervous, and there was something endearing about the nervous laugh that burst from his lips. “It’s good to meet you,” he said shyly, “would  you like to dance?”

Father had, whether on purpose or not, put it into Anne’s mind that she should only dance with someone eligible. Although Stuart seemed sweet, he was perhaps sixteen at most, and certainly not fit for marriage to a woman of twenty. It was a relief, though, to know that not her entire life was dedicated to the concept of marriage. “I would love to,” she replied after a minute, accepting when Stuart took her hand and led her to the other dancers.

Although he seemed sure enough of his own footing, taking each stride easily, Anne didn’t miss how Stuart’s hands shook as he put one around her waist. She doubted he had ever been this close to a woman before, because he gripped her tight enough to hurt, his face scrunched into a look of utmost concentration.

Why Lady Bartrum had paired them together was unclear, but Anne was determined to make the best of it. “So,” she said idly as they danced, “is this your first ball? My first was held by Lord and Lady Allen too.”

Stuart’s eyes were wide, his lips parted into a silent o. He looked like he was trying to speak but couldn’t form the words, as the hand clutching hers tightened.

Anne gently eased her hand from his, just enough to lessen the tension. She smiled too, in the hopes of easing his nerves. Not so many years ago this had been her, too. “Well, I think they’ve thrown a lovely dance, although I can’t say much for the punch. Have you tried it yet?”

Stuart swallowed thickly and, like it took a great deal of mental effort, actually replied. “I prefer not to drink,” he answered softly. So softly that his voice was almost drowned out by the other dancers around them. “Papa says it makes my face flush, and I won’t find a wife if I look like a tomato.”

Sudden laughter built in Anne’s chest and she had to fight it down, lips pursed into a thin line to hold it in. Oh, poor boy! Unable to reply right away, Anne took a moment to compose herself before replying, “I’m sure you will find a lovely wife soon enough. If you didn’t have to waste your time dancing with me, you could be looking for a young woman to talk to now.”

They were spinning and dancing so smoothly now, that Anne was hardly even aware of it. Her shoes clicked against the tiled floor and her hair floated about her face, but it was entirely effortless. Perhaps Stuart was better than she had first thought, if he was able to be so nervous and yet still dance so well.

They came to a stumbling halt as the set ended, and Anne felt a jolt of disappointment stutter through her. Their dance together had come to an end, but Anne surprised herself by how much she had enjoyed it. “Thank you,” she said sweetly, brushing dark locks from her eyes, “I had a good time.”

“As did I.”

Anne smiled, and together they made their way back to the refreshments. She was careful to avoid the punch, instead taking a tall flute of champagne and taking a little sip. It was sweet but a little bitter, and certainly more enjoyable than the sugary punch.

Before she could say anything, however, Lady Bertrum reappeared by their side. “Lady Banbury,” she announced, “I trust you had a good time with my nephew? I tracked down my wandering husband while you were occupied. He wandered off to speak with some old friends.”

Lord Bartrum was considerably older than his wife, with steel grey hair and deep-set eyes. Yet his smile was just as sweet as Lady Bartrum’s, and he held himself with the poise of someone decades younger. “Good evening, Lady Banbury. How would you feel about a dance?”

Lady Bartrum really was keeping her occupied, as promised. Yet Anne couldn’t help but notice how neither of these men were quite what Father had in mind. Leaning close, she asked her, “not that I mind, but dancing with your husband? I rather think Father meant to find me some young, eligible bachelors to dance with.”

“I know what he meant, but it isn’t what you want, is it?”

Anne blinked. “Well, no.”

“Then take this as a blessing, and blame it on an old woman’s misunderstanding.”

Anne bit back a laugh as she stepped away, and a trickle of relief ran through her. So this was all on purpose? Despite her promise to do as Father asked, Anne couldn’t lie and say she was upset. Rather, she smiled as she turned to Lord Bartrum and said, “a dance sounds perfect.”

And if Stuart had been good, then Lord Bartrum was exceptional. Dancing with him was like dancing on air, and for a while Anne managed to forget her concerns. She spun and spun until she was breathless, Lord Bartrum’s laughter ringing in her ear, and it reminded her of when Anne was young and she used to dance with Father. He hadn’t danced with her since Mama died over six years ago, but this brought her right back to those old days when things still felt simple.

But, no matter how much she might have wanted to, Anne couldn’t dance with him forever. Four dances was customary, but Lord Bartrum wasn’t young any more and he had to rest after just two. With an apologetic smile, he adjusted his waistcoat and said, “apologies, but I’ve had hip problems these last few years. Still, it’s good to dance when I can.”

Anne nodded. “Two dances are better than one, and you have incredibly light feet.” Truly she wished for more, but she wasn’t going to be greedy. Besides, as she peered through the crowd and saw Lady Bartrum’s distinctive brunette hair, Anne saw that she was no longer alone. “Who is that?” she asked, gesturing to the tall man beside Lady Bartrum.

Lord Bartrum shrugged. “Shall we investigate?”

With a laugh, Anne agreed.

Lady Bartrum spotted them as they approached. “Lady Banbury,” she said brightly, “I would like you to meet Lord Aaron Baxter, Marquess of Newfield.”

Lord Baxter’s smile was bright, his eyes a perfect seafoam blue. His hair was charmingly dishevelled, which was so unlike the other men here – most were so perfectly groomed, not a hair out of place, that they looked more like dolls than real people. Not him, though. When he spoke, Lord Baxter’s voice was smooth. “You look absolutely lovely, Lady Banbury. Lord Banbury must be proud to have such a beautiful daughter.”

She offered him a nervous laugh, cheeks flushed pink. Such compliments were unnecessary because Anne knew they weren’t true – it was simply polite conversation – and yet she found that the honey-sweet of his voice made her entire body relax.

Beside him, Lady Bartrum smiled as if to say isn’t he nice? Of course, despite her earlier claim of keeping Anne away from bachelors, she was still known for picking out the perfect couples. 

Well, when Anne looked at Lord Baxter and saw his bright smile, she couldn’t say she was entirely disappointed. There were worse people to dance with, she supposed. 

Then Lord Baxter’s smile widened as he swept a hand across the ballroom. “I’m sure you must have gentlemen begging to dance with you,” he said with a laugh, “and I can’t say I blame them – but would you consider a dance with me, as well?”

Nobody was begging, but Anne kept that to herself as she felt her cheeks flush even darker. A part of her was wary, but the larger part of her was simply pleased to be in his company. So with a nod, she readily agreed. “A dance – how could I say no?”

---

“In the Name of a Lady” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Lady Anne Banbury never wanted to marry. In fact, she has no interest in being courted by anyone at all; but being the daughter of the Duke of Woodstock gave her very little choice. Now that she is getting older, the pressure to find the ideal husband is mounting. Among the many competing for her hand in marriage, the most determined is the strange and enigmatic Lord Baxter. Is he though, what he seems to be, or does he have hidden intentions?

Little did she know that the one to actually capture her attention would be nothing like all these lords, as he would be the manor’s kind and sweet new manservant…

Joseph Regent was only looking for work when he became Lord Banbury’s valet. Despite thinking he had his whole life planned out, everything is at risk when he falls head over heels for his lord’s daughter. Just as he did not expect this to ever happen, he certainly did not expect his entire existence to be thrown into chaos after realising the presence of a dangerous antagonist.

Will he be able to make his feelings known, despite Lord Banbury’s effort to marry Anne to someone else?

For a while, the two fool themselves into thinking that everything will be alright. However, when everything is revealed and Joseph is banished from the manor grounds, their world quickly collapses, and both are left heartbroken. Can they fight their own battles and run into love’s embrace? Will their love overpower their mistakes, or will they have to betray the unique bond that holds them together?

“In the Name of a 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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