Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Y elden Court, Hampshire, August 1812

Joanna Stretton reached for her pencil before recalling that this was Uncle Henry's newspaper she was reading, not Papa's. No matter—she would make a note of the new manufactory proposal in Lancashire and look into the details when they returned to London; it might be a project that Papa would allow her to invest in.

"You should not spend so much time reading the newspapers, Jo," Mama said from her place by the fire. "You are already twenty, and taking an interest in men's things is likely to discourage young men from courting you."

"There's no one to see me here, Mama." And besides, Lord and Lady Yelden—Uncle Henry and Aunt Sarah—already knew she took an interest in Papa's business. But Jo set the paper aside anyway; she was here to keep Mama company. "Shall I read to you for a while?" Mama would probably fall into a doze when Jo was part way through the chapter and she would have to read it to her again next time, but she didn't mind. She could do little else for Mama while she was unwell.

"Sarah tells me she expects George to come down from London today," Mama said. "Or tomorrow at the latest. I do wish you would try to befriend him while he is here."

This again. "We are already friends, Mama. Besides, Cousin George spends most of his time riding, and I am not a good enough horsewoman to keep up."

Mama sighed. "You would enjoy riding more, I think, had you more practice." She glanced out of the window at the rolling grass and scattered trees of the parkland surrounding Yelden Court. "I do miss having a place in the country, and I used to enjoy house parties so much before I married."

"Papa would have bought a property had you really wished for it." Although it would not have been as grand as Kenton Priory, where Mama and Aunt Sarah had grown up.

"Your father would rarely be at a country estate, so what use would it be? If I were not so unwell, I would be with him now." Mama adjusted her shawl around her shoulders. "Marriage to George might get you the invitations that have been denied to me. There is nothing wrong with first cousins marrying, you know."

"There is, if they think of each other as brother and sister. Besides, he's younger than me, and?—"

"He's only younger by a few months, Jo. That does not signify."

It did to Jo; George still had a boyish enthusiasm for sports, and life in general. It was endearing in its way, but not what she wanted in a husband. However, it was no use saying that to Mama. "George has no more wish to marry me than I have to marry him. Mama, why are you so set on him?" Jo waved a hand towards the park beyond the window. "You know Papa will settle enough on me to buy something like this if I do not marry a landed gentleman."

Mama leaned her head against the high back of the chair. "Don't be silly, dear; of course it's not that. But you do not meet any other suitable young men."

"I have met several very pleasant young men over the last two years, Mama. And all more interested in my future inheritance than in me." Her parents had wanted more children, but over the years several babies had come too far before their time; Mama had never properly recovered from her last disastrous pregnancy. It was now all but certain that Jo would be Papa's sole heiress.

She regretted her sharp tone when she noticed that Mama was suddenly looking more wan than usual, a crease forming between her brows. Then Mama's gaze slid sideways. "Is that someone arriving?"

Walking over to the windows, Jo saw two riders approaching the stables. Her cousin, riding next to a man in a scarlet uniform.

"George has brought a friend." The riders passed out of sight and she turned back to Mama. "I will do my best to spend some time with George while we are here; I cannot promise more than that."

"Thank you, Jo."

"Now, shall I help you to your room? If we are to meet a new acquaintance at dinner, you will need to be well rested."

"That's a good idea. I will feel better when I have had some of my tonic."

Once Mama was settled in her room, Jo read to her until she drifted into a doze, then returned to the parlour to continue her perusal of the newspaper. She enjoyed her visits to Yelden Court but, unlike Mama, did not pine for a country estate—life in Town was much more interesting.

Mama was right about her not meeting many suitable young men, although their ideas of ‘suitable' differed. Mama wanted her to marry someone who could give her the entrée into the ton that Mama had lost by following her heart rather than family obligations when she married.

Years ago, Papa had visited Kenton Priory to advise the Earl of Kenton on investing some of his considerable wealth, and had been there often enough for him and Lady Frances to fall in love. But the earl did not consider Nathaniel Stretton a suitable son-in-law, as although Papa's grandfather had been a baron, there were no other members of the aristocracy in his family tree. It was only Mama's determination in refusing all her other suitors over four years that had finally made the earl agree to their marriage—although he did not go so far as to welcome Papa and Jo to Kenton Priory.

Mama had become more set on the idea of Jo finding a husband in the ranks of the aristocracy since she became unwell over a year ago, but Jo could not understand why she thought it so important. Jo was in no hurry to wed, but when she did, she wanted it to be a love match like her parents'.

From Mama's stories of her seasons in Town before her marriage, Jo thought that the men she was likely to meet from aristocratic families seemed a frippery lot, devoting their time to gambling or sporting activities. She would prefer a man like Papa. His own investments had made their family wealthy, and those investments also allowed other men to improve their lands, increase their business, or develop inventions. But his activities were too close to being in trade for most of the people of Mama's class. The young men Jo did sometimes encounter who were in Papa's line of business were too busy to spend time at assemblies or soirées. However, spending time with Cousin George, if he were also willing, would be no hardship, as long as it did not lead Mama to hope for a union that would not happen.

She glanced at the clock quietly ticking on the mantelpiece. Aunt Sarah would be taking tea in the drawing room soon; Jo would join her once she had returned the newspaper to Uncle Henry's study. Male voices sounded from above as Jo crossed the entrance hall.

"Jo! Mama said you were still here." George clattered down the stairs, no longer in riding dress, and a wide smile on his face.

His friend followed more slowly behind. The newcomer was taller than George, and broader at the shoulders, with blond hair waving gently above a square-jawed, lightly tanned face. He was older than George, she thought, but only by a couple of years. His eyes met Jo's, and his smile made her breath catch.

"Jo, this is Captain Alfred Bengrove. He has come to stay for a week or so on his way to Portsmouth." George turned to the captain. "Bengrove, my cousin, Miss Stretton."

Captain Bengrove bowed. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Stretton." His eyes slid downwards, and she thought a crease briefly formed between his brows. But that impression vanished as he spoke again. "I see you keep up with events in the Peninsula. Most admirable. "

Jo was puzzled as she made her curtsey, then dragged her mind away from his blue eyes to the newspaper in her hand; the item on the front page concerned the Marquess of Wellington's activities in Spain. "I'm pleased to meet any friend of George."

George's voice broke the spell of the captain's mesmerising gaze. "Come on, Bengrove. You said you fancied a game of billiards."

Jo blinked as her cousin's guest bowed again and followed George towards the back of the house. She sighed, feeling sadly flat, and headed for the drawing room.

"I met Cousin George's friend earlier," Jo said later, in Mama's room. Halsey, the maid who'd been with Mama since she first went into Society, was pinning a lacy cap over Mama's freshly combed hair. "Captain Bengrove."

Mama's tired expression sharpened. "Bengrove… The name is familiar." She closed her eyes for a moment. "Ah, yes. There is a Viscount Bengrove in the next county to Kenton Priory. He could be some relation."

"He didn't say."

"All finished, ma'am." Halsey stepped back, regarding her mistress critically, then nodded her head.

"Thank you. I will ring when I need you after dinner."

The maid curtseyed and left. Mama turned on the stool. "Run down and fetch a peerage from the library, will you?"

"You could just ask about his family at dinner, Mama," Jo protested.

"You know I try not to do that, dear."

Jo sighed, but did as Mama requested. Such an enquiry often resulted in the same questions being asked of Mama, and there had been several occasions when the answer resulted in a friendly conversation turning into one of brittle and forced politeness when it became clear that Mama had married someone her companions regarded as beneath her.

"Here you are, Mama." Jo turned to the correct page as she reentered her mother's bedroom. "‘Viscount Bengrove, of Bengrove Hall in Staffordshire.' You were right about it being in the next county. ‘Married 1785…. issue Edmond, born 1787, Alfred, born 1790.'" She closed the book with a snap. "Cousin George introduced him as Alfred."

"A second son," Mama said, as if to herself. "I suppose that would do."

"Now, Mama, do not think to push me at him." Even as Jo protested, she recalled the effect of the captain's smile and thought that she might not mind at least getting to know him better.

"I still think George would be more suitable, dear. He will have a title, after all. But if you insist he will not do, you should not let this opportunity slip."

"No, Mama. Are you ready for dinner?"

Dinner was more lively than usual that evening. Aunt Sarah had invited the local squire and his lady, and Captain Bengrove's presence helped the conversation along. Understandably, he was the centre of attention, and replied to questions about his exploits in the Peninsula with good humour. George and Lydia, the only other of Aunt Sarah's children old enough to dine with them, were enthralled by his tales. George had always said he wished he could buy a commission, but Lord Yelden would not use his influence to get him a place in a good regiment, nor give him the funds required. Jo wondered if the captain's arrival might have the opposite effect to the one Mama wanted; if George spent all his time here with his new friend, Jo would not see much of either of them.

Jo awoke to a sunny morning and went down early to breakfast, as was her habit. Only George and the captain were in the breakfast parlour. They stood as she entered, and the captain drew out a chair for her as the footman poured coffee and served her buttered eggs and toast . Jo had not seen either of them after dinner the previous evening; she had accompanied Mama to her room when the ladies withdrew, and by the time Jo came downstairs after seeing her settled, the gentlemen had retired to the billiards room .

"Yelden promised to show me around the estate," the captain said, when Jo had finished eating. "Would you care to join us, Miss Stretton?"

"Good heavens, no!" George said, before Jo could answer. "She sits on a horse like—" He pressed his lips together.

"A sack of turnips?" Jo asked, managing a smile. "Potatoes?" She'd heard George's opinion of her riding before, and usually wasn't at all offended, as it had some truth in it. But it felt different now he had said it in front of Captain Bengrove.

"Sorry, Jo." He looked shamefaced.

Jo turned to Captain Bengrove. "I can ride, Captain, but I am no horsewoman and would only slow you down."

"I would not mind," the captain said with a smile. "I had your cousin's company all the way from London; a prettier companion would be a pleasure."

Jo felt a blush warming her cheeks.

"Oh, very well," George said. "But I warn you, Bengrove, the animal Jo usually uses here is a slug. There's no other word for it."

Jo could think of several: gentle, well mannered, comfortable. But she wasn't going to argue the point with his friend listening. "What time do you set off?"

"Half an hour," George said.

"Whenever you are ready, Miss Stretton. We are not in a hurry." The captain spoke at the same time.

"I will not keep you waiting too long, gentlemen."

Jo rang for her maid, and had already laid her habit out on the bed when Martha arrived. The maid's brows rose. "You're going riding, miss?" Then she gave a happy smile. "That captain is ever so good looking, isn't he?"

Jo felt her cheeks warming again, glad that Martha had gone to fetch her half boots from the closet and could not see her pink cheeks. The captain was indeed handsome, and she found herself taking more care than usual over her appearance. The deep burgundy of the habit and matching hat set off her grey eyes and black hair nicely. If only her hair didn't curl so much, Martha might be able to create more elegant styles.

Martha handed Jo her whip. "You look very fine, miss," she said, with a knowing look in her eyes.

"Thank you." As she descended the stairs, Jo wondered why she'd never seen that expression on Martha's face before. Was it because this was the first time she had felt this odd feeling inside—a kind of fluttering in her stomach? The two men awaited her at the foot of the stairs, and the flutterings increased as the captain greeted her with a smile.

Captain Bengrove sat his horse well. Jo admired his figure from behind as George monopolised his attention, pointing out features of the park and parts of the more distant views. The countryside was open here, with gently rolling hills and areas of open land where those inclined could gallop without harming crops. And gallop they did, leaving Jo cantering along behind. But they waited for her at the top of the rise, and she couldn't begrudge them their exhilaration. Perhaps she should try to improve her riding.

"My apologies, Miss Stretton," Captain Bengrove said as she reached them, with the same intimate smile that he had bestowed on her yesterday. It had a similar effect now.

"It is no matter, Captain."

"Is this countryside like your home?" he asked, waving a hand at the view before them. "Lead on, George, if you will. I will talk to Miss Stretton for a while."

George shrugged and urged his horse into motion. Jo and the captain followed suit, and the three proceeded together at a leisurely walk.

"You do not live permanently at Yelden Court, I think?" the captain went on.

"No, we live in London. We do not have a country home."

His brows rose a little. "That is a pity. There is so much enjoyment to be had on days like this."

"There is also much of interest in Town." Jo hesitated, but then decided to speak. Better to find out now if Captain Bengrove took the same view as Mama's family of men like her father. "Papa has business interests there. Investments, and the like."

To her relief, he nodded, his expression thoughtful rather than disapproving. "Investors are as necessary as those who get their income from the land. And you, Miss Stretton? What do you enjoy in Town?"

"There are so many things to see and do, Captain. The theatre, museums…" Some of Mama's warnings came back to her—it might be better not to tell him that Papa had recently allowed her to decide on some investments of her own. "And the circulating libraries and shops, of course," she added. "Tell me about your family's home."

"Bengrove Hall is near Cannock Chase, in Staffordshire. There was a Tudor mansion there, but my grandfather tore it down. He built a new house in the Neoclassical style, with columns and entablature in marble from Italy, and had the grounds laid out by Capability Brown." He broke off and laughed. "I sound like a guidebook! I wouldn't know a Neoclassical design from a Palladian, but I can recall my father saying that many times to guests."

His amusement warmed her to him further; she did like people who could laugh at themselves. "Did you not wish to see your family while you were on leave? They must be in the country at this time of year."

He paused briefly before replying. "I saw them while I was in London."

"That was fortunate for you," George put in. "Saved you going all the way to Staffordshire." He turned to Jo. "Bengrove regrets that he missed the battle at Salamanca."

"Indeed. My mother had been unwell, and Father wrote to summon me home. Fortunately, she had recovered by the time I arrived."

"I suppose you will be keen to get back, Captain," Jo said, although she could not understand why men should wish to spend their lives fighting. It seemed an unfortunate necessity to her, rather than something to be desired. "When does your ship sail?"

"In eight days, weather permitting. "

"I've invited him to stay the week," George said. "Portsmouth is less than a day away by post chaise."

"I had been in two minds whether to accept." Captain Bengrove turned that devastating smile on Jo again. "But now, I will gladly stay."

Never before had Jo looked forward quite so much to the days ahead.