Chapter 1
May 1816
Marrywell, England
* * *
Sadie Campion marched across the damp ground after dropping a loaf of Mrs. Rowell’s fresh bread at Sadie’s eldest brother’s cottage. He hadn’t been at home—he was out in the sheep pasture with their father—and his wife had been chasing their three-year-old son around the parlor while clutching the one-year-old boy on her hip. That had prompted Sadie to take her youngest nephew and amuse him for a good half hour so his mother could have a respite. But now Sadie was behind in her regimen for the day.
Quickening her pace, she glanced up at the gray sky. “Don’t you rain again. Or at least do me the courtesy of waiting until after I clean the front door. I’d rather not have to add changing clothes to my list of things to do.”
Sadie strode to the front of the house where she’d placed the broom and ladder that she planned to use outside the door. When she reached the porch, she put her basket down and set the ladder in place. She plucked up the broom and climbed the ladder, frowning at the cobwebs that had been there for too long now. But what was she to do? There simply wasn’t enough time in the day for her to complete everything that needed to be done.
Though her father would balk and say he didn’t want to spend the money, Sadie needed to talk to him about hiring at least one more person to help. It didn’t have to be a housekeeper, though that would be nice, just someone who could take on a variety of tasks that never seemed to be completed because there weren’t enough people at Fieldstone to do everything.
Working quickly—both because she was behind, and she was now slightly irritated by her father’s obliviousness to how hard she worked—she didn’t look to see if there was anything living in the webs. So when the spider landed on her forehead, she yelped. She also let go of the ladder and lost her balance, falling backward.
Panic flashed through her. She didn’t have time to be hurt!
Instead of hitting the ground, she landed on…someone. The large figure didn’t quite catch her, but his strong arms came around her. “Careful,” a masculine voice murmured near her ear.
His deep tone and solid form against her back soothed her. She inhaled his sandalwood scent and felt a stirring of awareness as well as curiosity. This was obviously not one of her brothers or her father. Nor was it their groom or the land manager. Who, then, was it?
Sadie turned to see an astonishingly handsome gentleman she’d never clapped eyes on before. Tall and white with deep-set eyes the color of walnuts and lips that were surely too full for a man, he regarded her with concern. His features were strong and patrician, with a prominent brow and a square jaw, and he looked to be about thirty years of age. He wore a stylish hat, but she could just make out blond hair beneath it.
“Why on earth are you climbing a ladder without assistance?” he asked, sounding a trifle annoyed as his brows pitched down over his eyes. “What if I hadn’t been here to catch you?” His presumptuous questions dispelled the enchantment that had come over her.
Sadie took a step back, clutching the broom. The gentleman wasn’t alone. There were two other men standing just beyond him. One, who was a few years older than the rude Adonis, cradled his left arm and wore a pained expression. He possessed a snub nose and thick, dark brows. The other man was perhaps twenty years older than the man who’d caught Sadie. He had a long nose and a sharp chin. His cravat was perhaps the most intricately tied neckcloth Sadie had ever seen.
“Who are you, and why are you here?” Sadie asked pertly, even as her body still tingled from where her body had touched his.
“He is the Duke of Lawford, and you should mind your tone,” the older man answered, his dark gray brows pitched into an angry V.
The blond man shot a look toward the older man before addressing Sadie. “Our coach has lost a wheel. My coachman has injured his arm, and my valet knocked his head.”
Sadie gasped. “You lost a wheel? Goodness, you are all lucky you weren’t more seriously injured.”
“I’m fine,” the older man insisted as he continued to glower at Sadie. She looked back toward the “duke.” Was he really a duke? Perhaps they weren’t more badly hurt because the accident had never happened. Indeed, this entire scenario seemed highly unlikely, and it would be just like her brothers to play a joke like this. Sadie narrowed one eye at Adonis. “How do I know you’re a duke? And did you really suffer a mishap?”
“Of all the impertinence!” the older man snapped, his eyes flashing in outrage.
The supposed duke exhaled. “If it’s not too much trouble, Mrs…?”
“Miss Campion.”
The duke’s eyes widened slightly as if he found her unmarried state surprising. Perhaps he did. As a woman of twenty-four, she was practically on the shelf.
“Miss Campion, I am indeed the Duke of Lawford. If it’s not too much trouble, might we borrow a vehicle to continue to the nearest town so we may find a physician and someone to repair my coach?” the duke asked.
Oh dear, it sounded as if he had no idea where they were. Or when.
“Ah, why don’t you come inside?” Sadie said, summoning a smile as she was about to ruin their day even more.
“I don’t wish to trouble your employer,” the duke said smoothly.
Her…what? He likely thought she was a maid. Or the housekeeper—perhaps that was why “Miss” instead of “Mrs.” had surprised him. As housekeeper, she would be Mrs. Campion, whether she was married or not. Sadie glanced down at the mud on her hem from walking across the estate earlier and didn’t have to touch her head to know that a great many curls had escaped her chignon. It was more than believable that she was an employee at Fieldstone instead of the daughter of the owner.
She didn’t take the time to disabuse the duke of his assumption. “You really need to come inside…to sort things out. Please allow me to offer you some refreshment, and I’ll send for the doctor. Marrywell isn’t two miles down the road.” She gestured west with the broom.
“Marrywell? I am not familiar with it,” the duke said with authority. “Perhaps someone can drive us into town to see the doctor? Then I can hire a coach to continue driving us to our destination.”
The man was likely used to getting his way. She gave him a bland smile. “If you’ll just come inside, I’ll be happy to explain why none of that will be possible, unfortunately.”
The duke blinked, and his blond brows arched. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve arrived on the first day of the Marrywell May Day Matchmaking Festival. No one is available for hire to drive you anywhere, and I daresay there won’t be anyone to repair your coach. Not until the festival concludes. In a week. We could take all of you to town in our, ah, carriage or the much sturdier cart, however I think you will be more comfortable waiting here while the doctor is alerted to your needs.”
The older man—the valet, Sadie deduced—stepped forward. “That is unacceptable. This is the Duke of Lawford.”
Goodness, did the man think the duke was some sort of deity?
Sadie tried one last time. “Please come inside, at the very least so your coachman can rest.”