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Miss Amelia's Mistletoe Marquess
Jenni Fletcher
The virtuous Miss Fairclough Now faces ruin! When Amelia Fairclough had sought refuge in a blizzard, a brooding stranger had given her warmth and shelter. She’d even tried to soothe him of his demons in return. But as she scurried home at dawn she was spotted! Now he’s in the parlour, offering to do the honourable thing. Surely she’d be a fool to turn down the new Marquess of Falconmore!?
The virtuous Miss Fairclough…
…now faces ruin!
Part of Secrets of a Victorian Household. When Amelia Fairclough had sought refuge in a blizzard, a brooding stranger had given her warmth and shelter. She’d even tried to soothe him of his demons in return. But as she scurried home at dawn, she was spotted! Now he’s in the parlor, offering to do the honorable thing. Surely she’d be a fool to turn down the new Marquess of Falconmore!
JENNI FLETCHER was born in the north of Scotland and now lives in Yorkshire, with her husband and two children. She wanted to be a writer as a child, but got distracted by reading instead, finally getting past her first paragraph thirty years later. She’s had more jobs than she can remember, but has finally found one she loves. She can be contacted on Twitter @jenniAuthor (https://www.twitter.com/jenniAuthor?lang=en) or via her Facebook author page (https://www.facebook.com/JenniFletcherAuthor/).
Also by Jenni Fletcher (#u0f17f734-61f2-5372-babb-436a2dd8416b)
The Warrior’s Bride Prize
Reclaimed by Her Rebel Knight
Whitby Weddings miniseries
The Convenient Felstone Marriage
Captain Amberton’s Inherited Bride
The Viscount’s Veiled Lady
Secrets of a Victorian Household collection
Miss Lottie’s Christmas Protector by Sophia James
Miss Amelia’s Mistletoe Marquess by Jenni Fletcher
And look out for the next books
Mr Fairclough’s Inherited Bride by Georgie Lee
Lilian and the Irresistible Duke by Virginia Heath
Coming soon
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk).
Miss Amelia’s Mistletoe Marquess
Jenni Fletcher
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08959-3
MISS AMELIA’S MISTLETOE MARQUESS
© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Note to Readers (#u0f17f734-61f2-5372-babb-436a2dd8416b)
This ebook contains the following accessibility features which, if supported by your device, can be accessed via your ereader/accessibility settings:
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Text to speech
To Andy, my best chum.
Also thanks and love to my other partners
in fictional crime, Therese, Rachael and Jeev.
Contents
Cover (#u590111af-8a2f-5473-aa90-35df2996f1e6)
Back Cover Text (#uc8571150-5e65-5959-bd65-88b70c8aca2a)
About the Author (#u202b4847-259c-52c9-94e2-38cd868c04e6)
Booklist (#uf85d7017-a407-5445-aae8-b24ce1655989)
Title Page (#uf51e24b5-f88e-5273-91bc-416d9337df9f)
Copyright (#u0ba913b3-1932-5d6c-b50f-3d8e977bd12e)
Note to Readers
Dedication (#uaed44c73-5a9f-5af0-bd40-55e8a86c84d2)
Chapter One (#u4288a6be-be49-5384-9a35-04cb6fa76beb)
Chapter Two (#u66558844-5b25-5e9c-8728-ea204d498549)
Chapter Three (#ub377f555-a5a7-5bed-86c7-d318bc1837da)
Chapter Four (#u9a4de82b-2911-594c-aee1-f9cccfb7d0a2)
Chapter Five (#u1e146bc4-615d-5f42-b7b5-5d9d64a8ddea)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u0f17f734-61f2-5372-babb-436a2dd8416b)
December 1842
Forty-five minutes!
Millie Fairclough stared at the enamelled bronze carriage clock above the fireplace in astonishment.She would never have imagined such a feat of verbosity were possible, but apparently it was. Lady Fentree and her five middle-aged companions really had been talking about bonnets for forty-five minutes. Not to mention fifteen before that on hemlines and almost a full hour on sleeves!
‘Personally…’ Lady Fentree intoned with the air of a woman about to make some momentous pronouncement ‘…I favour a wide peak. Poke bonnets are far too restrictive. I tried on one of Vanessa’s the other day and I could barely turn my head!’
‘Oh, I agree completely.’ The woman on Millie’s left nodded her head so vigorously that her lace cap flopped forward over one eye. ‘But you know young girls like to follow the latest fashions and your Vanessa would look charming in anything.’
‘True…’ Lady Fentree smiled complacently ‘…and I suppose we were the same once. Only one learns to appreciate practicality over appearance at our age.’
Millie looked down at her hands as half-a-dozen ladies laughed, somewhat surprised and faintly chagrined to be included in the latter category. She could only presume that their hostess had forgotten she was there, given that she hadn’t uttered more than a few murmurs of agreement for the past hour and a half.
It wasn’t that she didn’t like bonnets, or hemlines or sleeves for that matter. On the contrary, she had a keen and, she was afraid, somewhat sinful interest in fashion. It was her guilty pleasure. She couldn’t afford to buy new clothes very often, no more than a pair of new gloves or a few ribbons anyway, but she could still look at and appreciate the sartorial choices of others.
Truth be told, she knew a quite shameful amount about bonnets. Straw bonnets, cottage bonnets, spoon bonnets, drawn bonnets… She had an opinion on each and every one of them—maybe not forty-five minutes’ worth—but still, more than she cared to admit. There were certainly things she might have contributed to the conversation, but the whole subject seemed far too shallow compared to her everyday life at the Fairclough Foundation, the institute for down-on-their-luck women her parents had founded more than twenty years before. Now, no matter how hard she tried to relax and enjoy the evening party, she found herself unable to indulge in a little light-hearted discussion. She was a serious person with a serious reputation to uphold and serious matters to consider. Whatever would people say if they discovered that the dutiful, virtuous and, above all, self-sacrificing Miss Amelia Fairclough had opinions on bonnets?
Not that there was anything inherently sinful about the subject, she reminded herself. After all, people needed clothes even if they didn’t necessarily need fashion. That was the reason she gave sewing lessons at the Foundation, as well as weekly tutorials in embroidery and crochet. It was thanks to those very skills that she’d managed to transform her best dress, now in its seventh year of service, into something vaguely fashionable for this evening’s outing. It had taken all of her ingenuity, but she’d finally succeeded in reducing the gigot sleeves into short puffed ones, even fringing the cuffs with a layer of white lace and adding a matching trim to the hem. It wasn’t perfect. The bodice was too high and the overall shape nowhere near full enough, but she’d thought it had looked reasonably presentable.
Less than a minute inside Lady Fentree’s imposing Georgian mansion had been sufficient to destroy that illusion. All of the other young ladies were dressed in the very height of fashion, in off-the-shoulder silk gowns with bell-shaped skirts and low, pointed waists, as if they’d come to the party straight from their modistes. As a casual observer Millie thought she might have enjoyed the spectacle, but to be seated amid so much splendour made her feel like a gaudy weed in a flowerbed full of lilies. It was hard not to feel a little bit jealous, especially when the new vogue for pastel shades was far better suited to her pale skin and auburn hair than the recent craze for bright colours. Even harder not to feel self-conscious when everything about her, from the sensible, unadorned bun at the nape of her neck to the practical ankle boots poking out from beneath her skirts made her feel hopelessly dowdy.
‘What do you think of Pamela hats, Miss Fairclough?’ Lady Fentree’s voice penetrated her thoughts suddenly.
‘Me?’ Millie flushed, embarrassed to have been caught with her attention wandering. ‘Oh, I like them very much, especially the ones with wide ribbons.’
‘Indeed. They’re so flattering, especially when one wears the back of one’s hair in ringlets. It stops them getting flattened.’
‘Yes, I suppose it does, although I’m afraid I’ve never worn ringlets.’
‘Never?’ Lady Fentree sounded genuinely shocked. ‘Well, how extraordinary.’
‘Is it?’ Millie looked around the group in dismay, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut, after all. Judging by the looks being exchanged, everyone else thought it extraordinary, too. As if she’d needed another way to prove how drab and boring she was!
Which was nothing but foolishness and vain self-regard on her part, she chided herself, sitting back in her chair as the conversation moved on without her. There was no cause to feel jealous of the other young women either. Clothes were simply the external trappings of a person and not a reflection of the soul beneath. Self-sacrifice and duty were the things that really mattered in life and she for one could survive perfectly well without new gowns or elaborate hairstyles. It was only being in society that made her feel this way and she’d be back out of it soon enough, as soon as she and her mother returned to the Foundation, where nobody had forty-five minutes to waste in idle chatter about bonnets.
