Irresistible Prejudice Read online

  IRRESiSTIBLE PREJUDICE

  A Regency Arranged Marriage Romance

  Lily Holland

  Irresistible Prejudice Copyright © 2019 by Lily Holland. All Rights Reserved.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Lily Holland on Amazon

  Free Exclusive Gift

  Free Exclusive Gift

  Sign up for my mailing list to be notified of hot new releases and get “The Hidden Heart” (available only to my subscribers), an exclusive Novella in The Unforeseen Lovers series for FREE!

  Click the HERE or enter the following link into your browser

  https://dl.bookfunnel.com/q3o6w4p1fx

  chapter 1

  Charles

  I sigh as I let the letter between my hands fall to the desk. How dare he? I turn away grumpily and head to the window. My estate is large, my mansion luxurious and my annual income of ten thousand pounds. I’m rich, I’m young and yet, my old uncle thinks he can do with my life as he pleases.

  I frown as I see a stable boy run down the alley to the stables. Life here at Clarencroft is sweet, it’s not as grand as it can be in London, the company isn’t as refined and the society not as well-bred, but it’s quiet, safe, peaceful. It’s home.

  I head back to my desk and read the letter for what must be the fifth time. If he were standing right in front of me, I would hit my uncle. I inherited my father’s fortune, his estate and his name, but somehow my uncle kept enough power over the family’s mining business to use me as a puppet in his schemes of grandeur. I can live without his approbation, but I am his only heir and he makes it clear every single time we meet that if I want for the family business to remain in a Knightley’s possession, I have to obey him. Until today he has never been too hard to please, go to Oxford instead of Cambridge, don’t get engaged in the navy, don’t marry any kitchen maid…

  Until today… In this despicable letter, his words are clear, inflexible, he wants me to marry a young Lady he “considers wise enough to be a respectable mistress of Clarencroft and wealthy enough to be an agreeable addition to the family”. Of course my uncle would think it his role to pick out a wife for me, he probably feels concerned about the kind of woman I might marry but to presume I might marry the one he chooses for me? To imagine I could ever marry her? Because I know her, I know the name he has written in his slightly trembling handwriting, that’s a name I would never dream of forgetting.

  Miss Selina Heathfield. Miss Heathfield of Heathfield, daughter of a Duke, cousin of a European prince, only heiress to a colossal fortune she will inherit soon according to her father’s health.

  Miss Selina Heathfield, the very girl I despise more than any other. I would rather marry a kitchen maid than her. My uncle writes she is “pretty and elegant”, but he forgot to mention there how pompous, rigid and condescending a woman she is.

  A knock on the door makes me frown. Mrs. Brock offers me an apologizing look and she tries to smile.

  “Sorry to disturb you Sir, but Sebastian just came in saying a Lady Heathfield would soon call on you. Should I prepare rooms for her and her party?”

  I glare at the woman as I grit my teeth in annoyance. My uncle considers his order is law. If he wants me to marry this well-bred girl, then I will, that’s what he thinks. Well, I’ve been nice enough never to fight him, but I won’t let this pass. He may invite her to my home, have organized this entire masquerade with her father, I won’t accept this engagement.

  This girl is a living nightmare, the single thought of her nasty smile as she ran away accusing me of her mischiefs when we were children isn’t the only thing that doesn’t sit well with me. I remember her vain and mean, there’s no way I’ll ever marry her.

  I nod toward Mrs. Brock and let her know we are receiving Lady Heathfield but only for a few days.

  “She will leave soon enough, I’ll make sure of it.”

  Mrs. Brock is surprised at the vehemence of my tone but I don’t explain. I dismiss her and she leaves, letting me go back to my thoughts and my dark, rebellious state of mind.

  A few hours later, right about time for tea, an expensive carriage makes its way up my alley. My entire body tenses. I do my best to appear close and expressionless but I know it isn’t as easy as this. I always look concerned, even when I’m not so I suppose my thoughts will be displayed for all to see on my face today.

  I hear some agitation in the hall and a few minutes later, Mrs. Brock informs me our “guests” have arrived. I finish sealing the letter I have been writing and head for the parlor.

  “Have this delivered to my uncle as soon as possible. It is a very urgent matter.”

  My servant nods at me and takes the letter from my hands. My uncle isn’t here, I suppose he knew I would have been capable of sending Miss Heathfield and her party away at once if he had been there, I would have had a hard time observing politeness with him and her between my walls at the same time.

  I make my way to the parlor sighing. I know all too well how boring the night to come will be. I will have to play nice but I have the firm intention of making this unbearable girl understand I want nothing to do with her. I wonder why she has accepted my uncle’s offer. People say her sick father loves her dearly, he probably has asked her before settling the matter. A privilege I haven’t been gifted, of course. Why would she say yes? She’s richer than I am. Is it Clarencroft she wants? I remember she used to like playing in our gardens and pretending it belonged to her…

  When I enter the room, a party of three welcomes me. Of course she had to come with these people. How do you scream “I’m richer than you are” otherwise?

  “Welcome to Clarencroft,” I say in a polite, yet cold tone.

  I detail the assembly in a gaze and notice Miss Selina Heathfield is standing by the window, apparently busy taking a pin off her hat and reviewing the gardens.

  ‘They’ll never be yours’, I want to shout.

  When she hears my voice she turns to me. Her hair pin is stuck in the fabric of her hat so the older woman by her side helps her before I can see her face clearly. When she’s finally free of her pin, she looks up at me and smiles. I frown. She doesn’t look as terrifying as I remember her when we were children. One might even argue that she has become quite pretty with the years. Not that I care, but it makes me even more suspicious as to why she would agree to a match with me.

  “Duke Knightley,” she says in a soft, elegant voice. “Thank you for inviting us here. I can’t even remember when was the last time I was here.”

  “I’d argue it would be years.”

  She blinks at my cold and distant tone but she doesn’t lose her composure.

  “Indeed, I believe we were still children of twelve or thirteen back then. I’m happy to visit this part of the country for once. The scenery is always a breath of air.”

  Intriguing. She has never been nice. I suppose her father told her to give all she had on politeness.

  “Indeed.”

  I glance outside and I see her exchanging a surprised gaze with her maid. She smiles shyly and passes her hand in her hair as she follows my gaze outside. It’s strange, she’s never done anything shyly, not since I’ve known her. Her long hair freely caressing her back probably proves me right though, she must think she is above any social consideration to respect a fashion of her own. All respectable Ladies I know take good pride in keeping up with the hairstyle trends, hair styled in updos and curls framing the face, not her. Of course she doesn’t care, when was the last time she needed to? She’s always had everything she ever wished for without even having to ask for it.

  I clear my throat as I invite her and her friends to sit while I order Mrs. Brock to fetch some tea. We drink the hot beverage in near silence. The only voice that echoes in the room is Mrs. Fritz’s, her companion, stating what a tiresome trip it was to come here. Selina is quiet and I know it’s my cold tone that silenced her.

  I retire after tea pretexting some urgent work and I let Mrs. Brock show our guests to their rooms. There’s no way I’ll give them more than the attention required by politeness.

  Chapter 2

  Selina

  The rooms appointed to us are warm and cozy. The furniture isn’t luxurious, but it’s functional. I like being here, I’ve always loved this place. I remember the long hours playing hide and seek in all these rooms, the mad, invigorating runs we would take in the gardens until we were out of breath and our muscles were burning.

  I gaze out of the window as I review Charles’s estate. It’s still beautiful here and he hasn’t changed much since I last saw him. He is as elegant, the same expression of fake pride on his features to convey power, and an apparent coldness. We were children the last time we met and I couldn’t help but notice he has nothing of a child anymore, he is manly, strong-built, good-looking. I’ve always known he would develop that way, I guess that’s why I fell in love with him back then. How old was I? I don’t even remember. Maybe eight or nine, but I’ve never loved anyone but him. I’ve never told him, obviously, but I’ve always hoped h
e might have felt the same.

  I’ve kept myself up to date as to how he was doing, how things were going for him, especially after his father’s death. I wanted to write or to call in, but it wasn’t my place so I never did. Anyway, when my father told me he wanted to settle a match between us, I felt fate was making all of my dreams come true.

  I expected—or rather hoped—he would greet me differently. I had envisioned a romantic and comforting meeting of two soulmates after being so long apart, but I must have dreamed too hard. His gaze was so cold when he looked at me… I don’t know what to think of it. Maybe he simply feels bad because he knows my father is dying and he wishes to be polite and respectable. I suppose his coldness is only a part of his elegance, what else could it be? We used to be good friends, I’m certain he can’t have forgotten.

  During supper, memories of past hours in this very grand house come back to me. My father was a very good friend of Earl Knightley, they were school friends and used to see each other very often and the reason of my presence between these walls.

  “The rooms are very comfortable.”

  I turn to Charles with a smile but he doesn’t reciprocate. He nods.

  “Mrs. Brock does a good job. I would have asked her to light the fires earlier on if I had known of your coming sooner.”

  The hint of a smile gets to my lips but not to completion. He isn’t only cold, he is disagreeable. I tense and decide to go mute. He must notice because he sighs and nods toward the window.

  “I suppose the weather will be nice tomorrow. You will surely enjoy a walk in the gardens.”

  My eyes jump to his face. He must remember how much I loved the gardens, all those roses and pretty flowers, all those trees and fruits falling to the ground. Some of my favorite memories are set in this very place. I smile fondly and agree in an enthusiast nod.

  “I would love that, my Lord.”

  He nods with his chin and gulfs down some wine. He doesn’t look at me, focuses on his plate and a terrible feeling overcomes me. Does my presence annoy him? We haven’t spoken in a long time, maybe he doesn’t even remember me. Surely he does, but men forget about much of their childhood once they go to school and to college. Surrounded by beautiful ladies, he probably never gave a second thought about his childhood friend.

  I contemplate my food as Mrs. Fritz and Mr. Monroe start discussing politics and the state of war. I don’t add a word. Sometimes I peek at Charles unnoticed and what I see comforts my idea that he doesn’t want me here. He is closed and proud, cold and distant. I don’t remember him being so cold, it makes me shiver.

  After supper I retire to my room arguing I am tired of my day. The men decide to drink port and play whist, their faint voices fading away as I climb the stairs and close my door behind me.

  The next day, a beautiful sun spreads over the landscape. The green of the land fills my heart with excitement as the fresh air awakes my entire body. I join Mrs. Fritz for breakfast and a servant announces Lord Knightley has gone in the neighborhood for some business. I’m disappointed but I don’t let it show.

  We go for a stroll in the gardens. It’s so beautiful I stop every five seconds to admire the gardener's work. I scorch my finger on a thorn but I don’t care, the flower is too pretty for me not to take it in my hands. Mr. Monroe cuts it for me and I keep on walking around the lawn. I follow the path that tours the gardens, slaloming between century old oaks and listening to the birds chirping happily in the heights.

  I inhale a relaxed breath as Mrs. Fritz’s voice startles me.

  “Oh look, it seems Lord Knightley was able to join us after all.”

  I blink as I observe his shape walking toward us. He is tall and his silhouette is attractive, his shoulders wide and his embroidered jacket perfectly fitting his figure. I look away to avoid having him notice the pink rising to my cheeks.

  When he reaches us, he engages with Mr. Monroe in a discussion that doesn’t concern me and I listen to Mrs. Fritz ramble about the weather in this part of the country. It takes almost an hour for Mrs. Fritz to ask Mr. Monroe apart so that Charles and I can enjoy a moment together alone.

  He is stiff beside me as we walk side to side. I play with the rose between my fingers and don’t care as it presses on my already hurt finger.

  “You’ve come a long way to visit,” he finally says.

  I nod but offer him a smile.

  “I believe I had to, considering the circumstances.”

  “About that.”

  He stops walking and it drives me to a halt. I turn to him and he turns to me and his frank, icy stare makes me shiver.

  “You shouldn’t have come here for this. As you would imagine, my uncle believed this arrangement between your father and him was for the greater good but you must not fret, I’ve sent a letter to him to express my discontent as soon as he informed me of his plan.”

  I swallow at the lump in my throat.

  “Surely that is why you are here, isn’t it? I can’t imagine you would be willing to agree to such a match.”

  He looks at me and cocks one of his eyebrows. I have to answer, say something but his sincere declaration makes me withdraw.

  “You of all the people…”, he shudders. “Of course there is no way we could get married, I believe you to share this point of view.”

  It hurts so much I have to make a huge effort not to burst into tears. Me of all people… I gather my composure and put on a mask of condescending pride. I smile and nod.

  “Of course, you have unveiled my true intentions.”

  My words seem to relieve him and he squares his shoulders, the feeling of having been right empowering him.

  “Fine. Then I believe you will do as I did. After your stay here, you will be able to tell your father and notify my uncle that their scheme in deciding for our lives won’t do.”

  I nod. I can’t speak and I can hardly breathe.

  “Of course.”

  My voice is faint and it makes him glance at me in surprise. I smile but my eyes are watering and I have to run away quickly if I don’t want him to notice.

  “I’m sorry,” I announce, “I’m feeling very weary at this moment, I have been walking for a while. I beg your pardon.”

  He bows to me as I excuse myself and I hurry back toward the house. I leave him by an ancient tree where we used to use as our starting point for playing hide and seek in the garden. I’m not yet in the house that my tears already cover my face.

  Chapter 3

  Charles

  My gaze follows her as she rushes away. I don’t know what to think. From her face last night at supper and her annoyed gaze during tea, I figured being direct with her would work best. Was I wrong?

  I keep on walking a few paces and frown. I am right beside an old oak tree where we used to play around as children. She called it hide and seek but she always cheated and called me out on it when I did the same. She was such a hypocrite at the time that I wonder if that’s what she’s playing at right now, appearing almost sorry at my words to make me look like the bad guy. Her father is sick, she surely doesn’t want to be the one disappointing him saying she won’t obey and marry me. If I’m the one eager to break the engagement off that will satisfy her. Yes, she’s probably hiding behind etiquette, pretending to be hurt only to let me take all the blame. I wouldn’t be surprised for her to pretend she was willing and I am the one who opposed the match while it was her wish all along. It would be twisted and fit her character all too well to doubt it to be true.

  I shake my head and join Mr. Monroe and Mrs. Fritz. When we head inside to have luncheon, Mrs. Brock informs us Miss Heathfield felt unwell after her morning walk and requested for the meal to be served to her room. I don’t take much heed of it but Mrs. Fritz seems unsettled. She shoots a wondering gaze at me and my stomach sinks. Could it be that I have said something that annoyed her? Impossible. This is probably only one of her usual tricks, she’s pretending to be indisposed to have others be worried about her. It wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?