A Rational Romance
England 1803.
Elliot Malvern, seventh Marquis of Ullenwood is very content with his bachelor lifestyle, spending his fortune on the pleasurable pursuits of gambling and mistresses.
Rosamond Beaumarsh is determined to remain unmarried and independent.
What, then, could persuade them plunge into an adventure that carries them to post-revolutionary Paris and takes them on a headlong flight across France?
Only the exercise of logic.
The pair embark upon a romantic adventure and learn that rational thought has very little to do with true love……
December 2007 brought two great reviews for this book:-
"Melinda Hammond’s latest Regency, A Rational Romance, is superb storytelling at its absolute best! Rich in period detail, intrigue and romance, it’s the perfect book to curl up with on a cold winter’s night!......A Rational Romance is one of the year’s best historical romances! Melinda Hammond is an outstanding writer of romantic fiction who touches the heart and recreates history meticulously"
(redrosesforauthors.blogspot.com)
And from Singletitles.com:
"Melinda Hammond is one of the brightest stars in the Regency firmament. Her plots are fast-paced, her characterization impeccable and her ability to evoke the past in a vivid and colorful way superb! ..... An enthralling romantic tale full of charm, wit, passion and adventure, A Rational Romance is sheer reading perfection!"
Read an Extract....................
A doctor was summoned, but everyone knew it was already too late. The guests returned to the Saloon to revive themselves with more of the dead man’s brandy while Lord Ullenwood took charge of the situation.
‘And who else should do so?’ demanded Mr Granthorpe. ‘After all, this house is yours, now, my lord.’
Lord Ullenwood picked up the document still lying on the hazard table and broke the seal. He spread the crackling parchment on the table and studied it, frowning.
‘It seems my lord had planned this: it looks very much like a will, with myself as sole beneficiary.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll get my own man to go through it tomorrow.’
The butler came up to him, bowing.
‘My lord, Miss Beaumarsh has asked if you would spare her a few moments.’
‘Who the devil is Miss Beaumarsh?’ demanded Sir James.
‘Lord Northby’s grand-daughter, sir,’ replied the butler woodenly.
Lord Ullenwood re-folded the parchment.
‘You had better look after this for me, James. I’ll be back shortly.’
He followed the butler to the next floor and along a narrow corridor to a small, book-lined room. There, seated at a desk, he found a dark-haired young lady in a grey gown. She was studying a large ledger, a quill held between her ink-stained fingers. She looked so slight that at first he thought she must be a child, fifteen at the most, then she looked up and he realised his mistake. The face with its candid grey eyes that regarded him so steadily was that of a young woman. She put her pen down and rose.
‘That will be all, Royd. Please leave us.’
After dismissing the butler she turned to face the marquis. She was pale but seemed perfectly composed. Her dark hair was scraped back into a tight knot at the back of her head with no ornament or ribbon. Her sober appearance struck him as entirely appropriate for the occasion.
‘Miss Beaumarsh. May I say how sorry I am that we should meet in these tragic circumstances?’
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘It was not entirely unexpected. I wondered what Grandfather would do if he lost his wager.’
‘You knew what he was planning?’
‘Oh yes.’ She moved to a chair on one side of the empty fireplace, and gestured him to take a seat opposite. ‘My grandfather informed me of it yesterday morning. He said he would either recover his fortune or lose everything.’
‘Then perhaps, too, you will know why he chose me to take on his wager?’
Again those grey eyes met his gaze without flinching.
‘Everyone knows the rich Lord Ullenwood, with his fortune, his racehorses and his … women. As much as Grandfather admired anyone he admired you, I think. He always said you played square.’ Her dark brows lifted slightly. ‘You are shocked, my lord. Perhaps you did not know Lord Northby well?’
‘No, Miss Beaumarsh, I did not.’
‘Then I will explain. He was eccentric, and very selfish,’ she said bluntly. ‘For years he has been selling off the land and gambling away his fortune. Then, last quarter day, he discovered there was nothing left save the house, a little of the estate – and me.’ She sighed. ‘I am – was – a sad disappointment. As Grandpapa’s only relative it was incumbent upon me to redeem the family: I was to marry a fortune and provide a male heir to continue the title, but when I was presented at eighteen I did not take, you see. The Northby debts are so great they overshadowed the advantages of marrying into a line that goes back to the Conqueror. And as you can see, I am no beauty to tempt a suitor.’
‘No.’
She laughed.
‘You need not be quite so frank, my lord!’
‘What? Oh.’ In spite of himself he found himself grinning. ‘My apologies, madam, I was agreeing that your family’s debts would be a disadvantage, I did not mean to insult you.’
‘I believe you. But pray, tell me, what happens now?’
He frowned. ‘I am not sure. I must consider the legality of that document –’
‘Oh it is perfectly legitimate,’ she interrupted him. ‘Grandpapa called in his lawyer to draw it up: he was very pleased with the result.’
‘I am very sorry,’ he said. ‘You are placed in a most difficult situation. I would not wish to make it worse for you.’
Again that infectious laugh. She looked truly amused.
‘Lord Ullenwood, I have lived for the past five years under the thumb of a petty tyrant. I have kept house for him, made every shift possible to keep the creditors at bay and acted as his hostess when required, which was not often. What could you do to me that could be worse than that? Unless,’ she added thoughtfully, ‘you mean to ravish me?’
‘Whatever you may have heard df me, Miss Beaumarsh, I do not ravish innocent young women!’
‘I am glad to hear it, Lord Ullenwood.’
He looked at her sharply, wondering if she was laughing at him, but she met his fierce gaze with an innocent look.
‘Very well, then madam, let us consider: is there no-one you can turn to, no aunt or cousin? ‘None that I know. There may be some distant relatives, but why should they want to help me? No, I shall have to make my own way in the world. I have a little money saved: that must suffice until I can find a way to earn my living.’ She rose, as if to bring the interview to a close. ‘Perhaps you will give me a day or two to make my arrangements?’
He found himself saying, ‘I should like you to stay on for the moment, Miss Beaumarsh. If that document is found to be legal, and I am indeed the owner here, I shall need someone to look after the house for me until I decide what to do with it, and to carry out a full inventory.’
She nodded.
‘Of course. I will do my best to give satisfaction, my lord.’
She stood before him, hands clasped, eyes lowered, but again he had the distinct impression that she was laughing at him and when he spoke it was more harshly than he had intended.
‘Please remain in this room until I have sent everyone away.’ Immediately he regretted his cold tone: he said gently, ‘I have sent for the doctor, although there is nothing he can do for Lord Northby – would you like him to attend you when he arrives?’ He took her hand. ‘Perhaps he could give you something to help you rest.’
‘No, sir, but thank you for your consideration. I am perfectly well.’ He felt the little fingers flutter within his grasp and she said, a little self-consciously, ‘Believe me, my lord, I do feel my situation quite dreadfully, but I am not one to break down easily. No doubt you find my lack of sensibility quite … unbecoming.’
He raised her fingers to his lips.
‘On the contrary Miss Beaumarsh. After the events of the past hour, I am vastly relieved.’
Returning to the Red Saloon the marquis found most of the guests had already departed and he requested that the others should now follow suit.
‘A bad business, Elliot,’ said Sir James, shaking his head. ‘I will call on you tomorrow – I mean, today – in case I can be of service.’
‘Thank you, James. Come and take dinner with me. I am going home to sleep until then.’
Mr Granthorpe sauntered past.
‘Said you had the luck of the devil, Ullenwood,’ he sneered. ‘Not only have you won yourself a sizeable property, but you have Northby’s grand-daughter thrown in – cosy little armful is she?’
In one smooth movement the marquis turned, his right hand forming into a fist and coming up to land with devastating effect on Granthorpe’s chin, sending him crashing to the floor.
‘By God, sir, you’ll answer for that,’ gasped Granthorpe, raising himself on one elbow.
‘Oh no I won’t! There has been enough folly this night, without capping it with a duel. Go home and soak your head, Granthorpe.’
When Lord Ullenwood eventually departed, all traces of night had left the sky and the darkness had given way to an icy dawn. He stopped beside his carriage and looked back at the house. The unforgiving morning light showed just how run-down the building had become.
‘Winner takes all,’ he murmured. ‘A run-down mansion, an estate that’s been bled dry and a poor little dab of a girl who will need to be provided for.’ He jumped into the coach. ‘Damme if it doesn’t make one want to give up hazard. Drive on John!’
* * *