Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4) (23 page)
Read Lady Phillipa's Peril: Regency Romance Suspense Series ( Book 3) (Lords of Sussex 4) Online
Authors: Katy Walters
Damien waited in the drawing room as the butler opened the door. He heard the muted tones of his friends, as the man ushered them in, bowing and whispering deferentially. He looked at Isabella to see her beautiful eyes so dark, her usual sunny smile, just a slight quiver, whilst Henrietta rushed to his side, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. Alex and Ambros bowed slightly their expressions solemn.
With Henrietta beside him, he smiled, ‘Please take a seat. Hector and Amaryllis will be here shortly.’
‘Where are the twins?’ Isabella said, looking around,
‘Hah, Amelia is most probably with young Mr. Peterson, whilst Lily is riding in the park with Lord Talbot in his phaeton. I must say she is quite taken with him. I expect an offer any day now.’
‘Oh, so their men survived the battle. ‘
‘Sadly no, Amelia’s beau perished at Waterloo, but yes Talbot lived to fight another day.’
The door opened to admit Hector and Amaryllis, who both smiled at the friends, ‘Good morning, tis another beautiful day.’ Hector said, as Amaryllis came forward to hug Isabella and Henrietta.
The butler and maid entered carrying silver trays holding teapots, and porcelain cups and saucers. ‘Let’s have a cup of tea and then we can—‘
Isabella jumped up, as the servants left the room, ‘I’ll pour?’
Damien leapt to his feet, ‘I think I could do with something stronger. Alex, Hector, Ambros?’
The three men nodded, their smiles loosening now.
‘Something stronger for me I think. What say you?’ he asked, gazing at the men.
‘Indeed that would be appreciated. ‘ Hector said rubbing his hands together.
As they chatted amicably, Mary entered, smiling broadly at Damien, ‘The doctor has gone your grace, her grace is ready for you all now.’
Damien set down his glass and leapt to his feet. ‘Good, now friends follow me.’
Henrietta and Isabella almost ran as they followed him to the second drawing room. The light streamed in through the arched large windows, picking up the lights in Phillipa’s chocolate eyes as she greeted them. Although still fragile, she positively glowed, as both Isabella and Henrietta hugged her.
‘Dearest, you look stronger every day. I know we should let you rest but we could not let a day go by without seeing you Isabella cried.
Raking her fingers through her short tousled curls Phillipa beamed, ‘I am so happy you do, you give me such strength. I always feel so much better for your visits.’
Phillipa lay propped up with cushions on the chaise longue, a large easel covered with a white sheet to one side. She grinned impishly at Isabella, ‘I have finished it. Would you like to see it?’
Isabella went to her side and peered at the etching. ‘Oh tis beautiful – you have captured us so well. Oh Pippa, you are brilliant – brilliant.’
Pippa beamed, ‘So, are you going to show Alex?’
Isabella blushed, ‘Well yes of course.’ Looking at Alex she said, ‘We have a surprise for you Alex. Come here, Pippa has done a portrait for us.’
Raising his eyebrows Alex walked over to have a look, then gasped. ‘Good God tis us, but wait, what am I holding?’
‘What?’ Henrietta cried intrigued, rushing over, her eyes widened as she looked at the portrait, ‘Why Alex you are holding a baby.’
Damien laughed, ‘Did you have any notion Alex?’
‘Well … I… she shows no sign of increasing,’ he spluttered, hugging Isabella close. ‘My darling, you clever girl.’
Isabella beamed, ’Tis early days yet, but I could think of no better way of telling you. Our child should arrive next February. I already have the names, tis Virginia if it’s a girl and Vernon if it’s a boy.’
Alex beamed as he turned to Phillipa, ‘Well done Pippa, Tis an excellent rendering. I could recognize myself in that.’
Phillipa blushed. ‘Wait until I have lessons. Damien has engaged a master to teach me how to paint in watercolour and oils. I cannot wait to see what he makes of a one armed artist though.’
‘Dearest, he will be gratified to teach you.’
‘Thank God I am left handed; I can still write and paint. If the musket had taken my left hand then I would be in a sorry state.’
‘But this is only a beginning my love.’ Damien said, sitting on the other side of her, careful not to brush against the stub of her right side. ‘And once we return to England, you shall have your own studio, the masters will visit you.’
‘That would be wonderful as I fully intend to do a graphic book on the week leading up to and including the Battle of Waterloo.’ She turned to see the butler return with a bucket of champagne and crystal flutes. Proudly, he poured the drinks, handing out a flute to each of them, as he turned to leave the room, Alex stayed his arm, ‘Come join us Alberto.’
Damien raised his glass, ‘To Isabella and Alex and their forthcoming addition. Raising their glasses they echoed his words.
Lifting his glass once more he said, ‘And now friends, to all who fought in the Battle of Waterloo.’
The friends and the butler cried in unison, holding their glasses high. ‘To the Battle of Waterloo.’
Excerpt from Lady Venetia’s Vow on Pre0rder until 30
th
September and then for sale on Amazon
Sunlight spilled into the room, as Lady Venetia Winton drew back the heavy brocade curtains. Sparkling rays danced over rose satin upholstery, glinting on gilt picture frames and silver candelabrums.
Each morning she rose at dawn to catch the early morning post. When would he write? It was now three weeks, since last she heard from Horatio; his letters always encased in a plain paper wrapper without a postmark or address. She had no idea where he could be. The war was over and Napoleon on the run. Oh Horatio, please – please write. The Earl and the Countess tried to avert her fears, saying that he could well be caught up in the campaigns and could not write. They all were of the same opinion now that he was an agent in the King’s Secret Service, and as such, hope of news was bleak.
Her thoughts drifted back to that last morning they had together; she’d traced his lips with her finger, seeing those amber eyes glint at her touch. ‘My love, I wish this moment would last forever. I don’t want you to go, what shall I do without you?’
‘Never fear, I shall soon return to your side; this is a small war, nothing to worry over,’ he murmured, nuzzling her neck, his chestnut locks tickling her skin.
She shivered, a feeling of dread rippling through her body. ‘I just wish you could tell me where you are truly going. Is it France – Belgium? Where?’
‘Hush my love; you know I cannot divulge any information. Tis the king’s business and I can tell you no more than that.’
‘So you are a spy?’
‘I can hardly divulge any information can I?’
‘So how shall I write to you? You are leaving me in darkness – oh Horatio tis not fair. I honestly thought you were going with the 7th Hussars,’ she said rising to look at him, ‘or that was what you led me to believe.’
‘My sweet, be assured, I will contact you. Know this,’ he said, lifting her chin and kissing her gently. ‘I love you dearly and the last thing I wish is to be parted from my beautiful fiancée.’
‘I wish you had more time to recover, you are still weak.’
‘Well enough to ride a horse my love so I must go.’
‘Dearest, we would have wed two weeks ago but for the fever, so I should be party to all your secrets?’
‘Hmm, in an ideal world sweetheart, but—’
‘It’s alright for Isabella and Henrietta; they are in Brussels with their husbands. Then there’s Phillipa, she too is now out there, with Lord Thurston.’
She remembered his answer, the soft heat of his breath on her neck. ‘Hush now, I am ever with you in my thoughts; I carry your sweet face in my heart wherever I may go.’
‘I despair Horatio, what should I do without you?’
‘You have to learn how to manage the estates in Somerset and Cornwall. You will have much to occupy that pretty head.’
‘How can you talk of estates when all I care about is you?’
‘Then show me, you little minx. Come we have some unfinished business. Let’s not waste any more time.’ Drawing her nearer, he tickled her waist, making her wriggle and giggle.
‘Stop it; I am struggling to be serious here.’
‘So am I sweetheart. Come kiss me.’
She felt her body melt against his, felt the passion rising. ‘How can I resist you?’
That was their last morning together, she’d watched him leave heavy of heart, trying to smile as she waved good-bye, trying to be brave but failing miserably. Tears flowed, as she fell into the arms of his mother, the Countess Alicia, who promptly swooned to the ground, pulling her down with her. Lying sprawled on the gravel, she grimaced, perhaps in a way it was a godsend, as she became busied calling for a maid and a vinaigrette. Yet even then it was a strange business; he did not wear his uniform and instead drove away in a dark blue superfine frockcoat, a navy silk vest, nankeen breeches and hessian boots, a beaver hat covering his chestnut locks. He had left his uniform hanging in his wardrobe. It was somewhat alarming, as neither did he take his valet or even a footman. Lord Fitzroy and Lord Thurston took two horses each, with two carriages for the footmen and maids, let alone postilions and any amount of baggage, even the silver candelabras.
Horatio’s valet driven to tears, had locked himself in his room crying out, ‘How can he cope without me? He has employed someone else, I swear. Well I am in demand, why even the other day the Duke of Somerset sent me a note.’ It took time to calm down the histrionics and soothe his injured pride.
She drew a breath; she would not believe Horatio was injured or worse. She must cling on to the hope that he was safe, maybe a prisoner somewhere. After all, there were still campaigns against the French fortresses that were holding out. It would be a strange and fraught world without him. How on earth would she cope? She had no idea of running an estate, let alone managing farmers and other workers, and that was besides the villages within the estates.
The door opened, and a scullery maid entered ‘Oh sorry milady; I was just going to clean the grates and make up the fires, but I can come back—’
‘No – don’t leave Matty; just go about your business.’
Dutifully, the maid kept her eyes averted, as she began clearing the grate of ashes and making it up with fresh tinder.
Moving to a larger window overlooking the drive, Venetia peered through the trees, as if willing the postman to appear. She caught her breath, as she espied a figure in a postal garb driving a small cart. ‘Dear God, please – please let there be a missive from Horatio.
Running to the hall, she called out to Withers the butler to unbolt the huge doors. Excitedly she gripped her hands, watching the elderly servant along with the aid of a footman pull back the massive bolts. Running through the entrance and skipping down the steps, Venetia rushed to the cart, her eyes wide, and her pulses racing. ‘Is there anything for me Jack?..........................................
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I love writing exciting stories in the different genres: Regency Romance; Crime and Sci Fi.
With the
Lords of Sussex
Regency Romance, I like my readers to feel immersed in this exhilarating era, to share the characters' humour, joy, despair, love and fear. For this, I spend weeks in research and enjoy every moment, often visiting areas to such regency towns as Brighton, Bath, Chichester, and the minute little town of Bognor Regis the bane of King George the V
th
life. Yet it is a place where the late Princess Diana's family owned a retreat right on the beach. All these towns exude the aura of those times right down to cobbled streets, mullioned windows of tiny teashops and ancient shops where the mannequins vie with riding habits, saddles, and hunting crops.
Regency Romance
Coming very soon
Lady Venetia’s Vow.
Historical Paranormal Romance
The
Lords of Rhonan
Supernatural Series is awash with the history of Scotland, this took me on a rather longer journey, travelling hundreds of miles and staying in an ancient drover's cottage beside a loch. My heart would thump a little faster, when every evening, the cows literally surrounded the cottage, and even though the granite stone walls were two feet thick, I still imagined these great animals bursting through! I was thrilled with the magnificence of Edinburgh with the castle on the hill overlooking a growing town. This series of books crosses the genres embracing
romance, time travel, the supernatural
, and
history,
with the characters again in the Regency period.
US
Possessed at Rhonan
(Free copy)
UK
Possessed at Rhonan
(Free copy)
The Crime Series
featuring
DCI Dan Redd and DS Felicity
Dove is another genre that I find thrilling. I often scare myself as I write far into the night. As the plot thickens and the death count rises, I have actually jumped at the odd noises or shadow filled corners. Again each book needed weeks of research as they embrace prehistoric cults, music and so much more.
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K.N. Walters can be contacted at:
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