A Duke's son to the rescue (Regency Romance) (Regency Tales Book 4) by Regina Darcy Page B
Authors: Regina Darcy
Ads: Link
had been a slave-owner. That was when he had seen Mr George on the auction block, the proud black man with the accent of Jamaica, bearing the scars of past whippings, offered for sale to whomever had the price. Offended by the practice, Henry Hargrave had outbid every man there. He had brought Mr George to his place of business and offered him his freedom and a job. The dignified young man had been wary at first but he soon realised, when his manumission papers were in his hand, that Henry Hargrave had been serious.
Mr George soon learned the business of the docks and he had an advantage that another assistant would have lacked. Mr George knew commerce from its seamy underbelly. He was aware of the graft and corruption, the evil and greed that ruled many of London’s merchants and nowhere was this side of the city more visible than in the transactions that took place within the naval outposts of Great Britain. If Mr George regarded his former owner as naïve, he never said so, but Elizabeth knew that Mr George, unlike her father, had no illusions about his fellow man. He had seen too much.
“Is Papa already out?” she asked, sipping her tea and appreciating the generous serving of sugar which Mr George had added. Sugar was not merely a sweetener that added flavour to the beverage; it was another of the products of the docks which travelled from ship to port to customer, expanding the profits of the canny merchants who sold it. Elizabeth had learned to her sums upon receipts and bills of lading; geography had been a lesson taught according to the flags under which the world’s ships sailed; she perfected her French, mastered German, and acquired Spanish as a result of the business which passed through her father’s office. She was less adept at embroidery, watercolours, and playing the harp than other young ladies of genteel upbringing who sought to impress their prospective suitors with their feminine accomplishments, but adding a column of numbers in her head, arguing costs in a merchant’s native tongue, and knowing which ship carried which cargo were attributes prized by her father. Henry Hargrave had no notion of how he should rear a marriageable daughter, and there was no woman at home to guide him in these arcane concepts, so he did the best he could.
Her father did not know that there were times when Elizabeth wondered if her zeal for business should have been muted in favour of the quest for a husband. At twenty-five, well past the age when most Englishwomen were married and had started a family, she was aware that she was decidedly a spinster in the ‘old maid’ category, on the shelf and unlikely to entice matrimonial prospects. Any young gentlemen she knew, such as Nathaniel Woodstock, she counted as friends or colleagues in business, wholly separate from the work of Love. But it was not something she could discuss with her father, who saw her as the heir to his business, and not as someone’s potential wife.
The door opened. Elizabeth looked up from her ledger and Mr George’s head turned from the teapot.
“Good day to you both,” said the gentleman who had entered. He brought with him a sense of action rather than leisure and his complexion gave evidence of an active life spent outdoors that seemed at odds with his exquisitely-tailored garments, the cut of his coat, and his aristocratic bearing, which bespoke, even before he gave his name, of a lineage that was familiar to Debrett’s New Peerage . “Might I have a word with Mr Hargrave?”
Read More
BONUS CHAPTER 2:
FALLING FOR THE EARL
ONE
Alden Haddington, the Earl of Beckton, cleared his throat nervously, wishing he were anywhere but here, in the assembly rooms of the Bookman Arms. He had come to visit Nathaniel Hughes, Viscount of Wiltshire, his dearest friend since boyhood. Both had served in the same regiment under the Duke of Staffordshire.
Lord Wiltshire had invited him to attend the annual Mariners’ Ball. Whilst
Mr George soon learned the business of the docks and he had an advantage that another assistant would have lacked. Mr George knew commerce from its seamy underbelly. He was aware of the graft and corruption, the evil and greed that ruled many of London’s merchants and nowhere was this side of the city more visible than in the transactions that took place within the naval outposts of Great Britain. If Mr George regarded his former owner as naïve, he never said so, but Elizabeth knew that Mr George, unlike her father, had no illusions about his fellow man. He had seen too much.
“Is Papa already out?” she asked, sipping her tea and appreciating the generous serving of sugar which Mr George had added. Sugar was not merely a sweetener that added flavour to the beverage; it was another of the products of the docks which travelled from ship to port to customer, expanding the profits of the canny merchants who sold it. Elizabeth had learned to her sums upon receipts and bills of lading; geography had been a lesson taught according to the flags under which the world’s ships sailed; she perfected her French, mastered German, and acquired Spanish as a result of the business which passed through her father’s office. She was less adept at embroidery, watercolours, and playing the harp than other young ladies of genteel upbringing who sought to impress their prospective suitors with their feminine accomplishments, but adding a column of numbers in her head, arguing costs in a merchant’s native tongue, and knowing which ship carried which cargo were attributes prized by her father. Henry Hargrave had no notion of how he should rear a marriageable daughter, and there was no woman at home to guide him in these arcane concepts, so he did the best he could.
Her father did not know that there were times when Elizabeth wondered if her zeal for business should have been muted in favour of the quest for a husband. At twenty-five, well past the age when most Englishwomen were married and had started a family, she was aware that she was decidedly a spinster in the ‘old maid’ category, on the shelf and unlikely to entice matrimonial prospects. Any young gentlemen she knew, such as Nathaniel Woodstock, she counted as friends or colleagues in business, wholly separate from the work of Love. But it was not something she could discuss with her father, who saw her as the heir to his business, and not as someone’s potential wife.
The door opened. Elizabeth looked up from her ledger and Mr George’s head turned from the teapot.
“Good day to you both,” said the gentleman who had entered. He brought with him a sense of action rather than leisure and his complexion gave evidence of an active life spent outdoors that seemed at odds with his exquisitely-tailored garments, the cut of his coat, and his aristocratic bearing, which bespoke, even before he gave his name, of a lineage that was familiar to Debrett’s New Peerage . “Might I have a word with Mr Hargrave?”
Read More
BONUS CHAPTER 2:
FALLING FOR THE EARL
ONE
Alden Haddington, the Earl of Beckton, cleared his throat nervously, wishing he were anywhere but here, in the assembly rooms of the Bookman Arms. He had come to visit Nathaniel Hughes, Viscount of Wiltshire, his dearest friend since boyhood. Both had served in the same regiment under the Duke of Staffordshire.
Lord Wiltshire had invited him to attend the annual Mariners’ Ball. Whilst
Similar Books
