Lady Lissa's Liaison

Lady Lissa's Liaison

To Woo an Heiress

Book One

by

Lindsay Randall

LADY LISSA'S LIAISON

Reviews & Accolades

"Ms. Randall has taken a unique approach in this Regency, and she leads us on a merry chase. The hero and heroine are special. Throw in Gabriel's delightful son, and you have a winner!"

~Rendezvous

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Chapter 1

Derbyshire, England

Along the Dove River with its tumbling currents and clouds of mayflies flitting about, there appeared to be a happening in the making. A number of sleek carriages could be viewed rumbling atop the rustic lanes of Derbyshire, each one pulled by the best of horseflesh and all commanded by the most notable and eligible gentlemen of London Town. Everyone was abuzz about the unexpected guests, and every local from miles around was wondering what—or perhaps
who
—had been the catalyst to bring so many titled swell into their midst.

They did not have to look far.

Her name was Lady Lissa Arianna Lovington, a comely female of the bluest blood, who had ended the mourning for her father only a fortnight prior and who was now heiress to a staggering sum of riches as well as the sprawling lands of Clivedon Manor in Derbyshire.

The lady's doting father had kept the beautiful Lissa far from the fuss of the Metropolis, but word of her exceptional loveliness was a secret that could not be contained. With eyes as blue as a summer sky, her hair a glorious halo of shimmering blond, and her skin tinted with a perfect peaches-and-cream hue, Lady Lissa had blossomed into the vision of an angel, with a sweet disposition that was wont to rival the same. Following the unfortunate demise of her father, it had not taken long for a number of eligible gentlemen from Town to descend upon her quiet solitude and send missives her way, all of them eager to offer for her hand.

Soon, all of Derbyshire was agog with the news of Lady Lissa's many suitors. The local proprietors, innkeeps, ostlers and chambermaids were ecstatic due to the presence of the monied visitors. Maids and matrons were suddenly donning their most comely attire, while brothers, fathers and grandfathers alike were busy sharpening their card-playing and story-telling skills, intent on outwitting or, at the very least, amusing the unexpected guests.

The only one in Derbyshire
not
pleased by this invasion of suitors from the Metropolis was Lady Lissa herself. In fact, at the very unfashionable hour of dawn on a misty morn in early summer, Lissa was not asleep in her bed and dreaming visions of matrimony, but was instead in the hills of Derbyshire, on her hands and knees alongside the fog-covered river, groping for a cadis-worm casing in the cool waters of the Dove and hoping to extricate herself from this slew of suitors. Her satchel, filled with charcoals, paints, sketch pad and nature diary, lay beside her on the riverbank. She'd chosen a somewhat hidden spot near the river to spread her blanket, but one that gave her a good view of the riverbank tracing its way along each side of her.

"Gracious," said Lissa as she looked at a clump of wet reeds in her hand, "not a Cadis-worm in the bunch." She dropped the reeds, as big as the compass of a two-pence, back into the water, then thrust her hand in a second time.

"Truly, Tilly," she said to her young abigail seated beside her, "last year at this time I could pull out three or more with just one scoop of my palm. Perhaps this is not a good year for the insects. Perhaps there will be a small number of the Cadis that will actually fly. Perhaps...
Tilly?
Are you listening to me?"

The young maid, with her mop of riotous red curls, jerked into motion, sitting up straight. "Oh, yes, m'lady. I be listening. And no, of course I cannot
fly,"
Tilly said, trying very hard to look as though she was awake and had been listening to her lady's every word.

Lady Lissa frowned. "Tilly, you've fallen asleep."

The abigail blinked very green but sleepy eyes, failing miserably at appearing alert. "But it be so very early, m'lady," she whined.

Lissa sagaciously ignored the familiar, high-pitched sound. "Every angler, Tilly," Lissa pointed out, "knows that early morning is the best time to catch fish."

"But we
aren't
catching fish," Tilly moaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "We be sitting on the cold ground by a foggy river looking for—oh,
la,
m'lady, could you please tell me again what we be looking for?"

Lissa felt the undeniable urge to click her tongue in exasperation, but resisted the temptation. "We are not really looking for anything, Tilly," she explained patiently. "Rather, we are
waiting
for someone, but we do not want it to appear as
though
we are waiting. So we shall bide our time searching for worms, of which there should be a great many. There is the piper-cadis, and one called a cockspur, and there are straw worms, also known as ruff-coat, whose casing is made of little pieces of bents and waterweeds and condensed with slime and—"

"Ugh," said Tilly, a look of pure disgust crossing her features.

Lissa ignored it. A moment of silence stretched between them as Lissa turned once again to the task of searching for a cadis-worm in the river's water, her gaze surreptitiously turning now and then to glance down the water's edge, past the foliage behind which she'd positioned herself.

Tilly, her curiosity getting the best of her, plopped forward onto her hands and knees, staring down the length of the river alongside her lady. In a hushed whisper, she asked, "And who, m'lady, might we be waiting
for?"

Lissa swished her hand through the tumbling currents of the river. "His name is Gabriel Gordon," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "He is the sixth Earl of Wylde, and—"

Tilly sucked in a sharp gasp, bolting upright.

"What?"
Lissa exclaimed, startled. "Is something wrong? Are you ill?"

The abigail, eyes wide, clutched both hands over her heart in a dramatic fashion. "Lud, m'lady, I not be the ill one, but you must surely be, forgive me for saying so!"

"Tilly, whatever is the matter with you?"

"Ooh, m'lady, that name you just uttered. Lord Thingamabob—"

"Lord Wylde?"

The abigail cringed as though Lissa had called up the devil himself. "Yes! Ooh, he's a bad one, he is. Terrible trouble. They call him the Heartless One, they do, for good reason. Tell me you're not thinking of meeting the likes of him!"