A Gentleman’s Vow Read online

  A Gentleman’s Vow

  Heather Boyd

  www.Heather-Boyd.com

  Contents

  Blurb

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  More Regency Romance From Heather Boyd…

  About Heather Boyd

  Jaded by the experience of dodging fortune hunters during her first season, Lady Jessica Westfall returns home to the estate she loves expecting peace… until the biggest fortune hunter of all follows her from London. To keep Lord James at bay, Jessica enlists the aid of her neighbor, Gideon. As her lifelong friend, Giddy can be trusted to help thwart James’ pursuit, while also satisfying Jessica’s budding interest in things of an intimate nature…things like the kisses she’d missed out on during her season.

  * * *

  Gideon Whitfield’s quiet bachelorhood is interrupted by the arrival of a marriage-minded widow to the nearby village, with her sights set on him as her savior. But the greater threat to his peace proves to be his dear friend’s daughter, Lady Jessica Westfall. Gideon has always adored Jessica, and had expected the headstrong beauty to marry well in her first season. When she comes to him for help avoiding the unwanted advances of a fortune hunter, and also lessons in love—he may prove utterly incapable of helping her while guarding his own heart in the process.

  Copyright © 2018 by Heather Boyd

  ISBN: 9781925239-46-1

  Published November 2018

  Editing by Kelli Collins

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced nor used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

  The best way to stay in touch is to join Heather’s New Release List. Visit heather-boyd.com to subscribe.

  Saints and Sinners Series

  Book 1: The Duke and I

  Book 2: A Gentleman’s Vow

  Book 3: An Earl of her Own

  Dedication

  For my rogues, Lachlan and Finn. Thanks for the hugs, love and silliness. You make me so proud to be your mum. (Don’t worry, you only need to read this one page. Close the book now and back away.)

  * * *

  And for my favorite rogue John, my best friend for so many years. Only you make me laugh like no one can. Thanks for always being there for me.

  * * *

  xoxo

  Chapter 1

  April 1st 1819

  * * *

  A reputation for having an easy disposition and no other responsibilities was a curse to be borne at a country gathering. Gideon navigated the stifling alehouse, sweat trickling down his spine as he carried two drinks through the chattering crowd of mourners. Determined not to spill one single drop, which would mean starting over, he concentrated on his errand and ignored the assessing glances thrown his way.

  The late Mr. Grieves had been well liked and it seemed everyone in the district had come to mourn together in the village tavern. Everyone, unfortunately, included a few too many widows, or wives with daughters of marriageable age in want of a husband.

  Being the sole bachelor in a crowd was an uncomfortable experience at Gideon’s age.

  “There you are, madam,” he murmured to Mrs. Hawthorne as he passed over the punch, and then glanced around for young Miss Natalia Hawthorne. He didn’t immediately see her, so he held on to her glass.

  Mrs. Hawthorne craned her neck to look beyond him. “What became of my husband, Mr. Whitfield?”

  Gideon glanced over his shoulder in surprise. Mr. Hawthorne, carrying two tankards of ale, had vanished. Gideon suppressed a groan. Hawthorne must have slipped outside instead of returning to his wife. “I’m sure he’ll be along any moment.”

  Gideon had no choice but to remain in the oppressive heat with Mrs. Hawthorne, at least until Miss Hawthorne returned to take her cup of punch. He studied the crowd again, wondering where the girl had gone to this time. Natalia Hawthorne tended to disappear from her mother’s side with alarming frequency.

  Mrs. Hawthorne’s lips pinched tightly together and he averted his eyes. She would, of course, be displeased that her husband had quit the very crowded tavern without seeing to his family’s comfort. Wives were said to be highly combative, not that he’d know from personal experience. He’d never married. But he’d overheard the odd argument, whispered complaints and such, from male acquaintances. They were never allowed a moment’s peace. Still, today, Mr. Hawthorne was very much in the wrong.

  He glanced around for the daughter discreetly once more. He should never have made that foolish promise to watch over Natalia Hawthorne.

  He leaned closer to Mrs. Hawthorne. “Where has she gone?”

  Mrs. Hawthorne patted his arm. “She’s sitting with Mrs. Grieves, right behind you.”

  “Ah, good.” He glanced over his shoulder and, sure enough, the girl—or woman, he should say now, because she’d been out for two years—was speaking earnestly to the newly made widow who appeared to be crying yet again.

  “You are so kind to worry,” Mrs. Hawthorne said. “It means so much to our family that you concern yourself when you have no obligation to us.”

  Gideon was not related to the Hawthornes, but they were friends of his absent friends, and therefore important. He had made an attempt to ensure the Hawthorne ladies would not expire from thirst in this dreadful heat. What more could a bachelor be expected to do?

  Nothing. He glanced at the glass of punch in his hand with a wry smile, wishing it were the ale Mr. Hawthorne had taken with him.

  “You must long to rejoin the gentlemen outside,” Mrs. Hawthorne murmured, lips lifting in a half smile. The act of smiling, forgetting her husband’s neglect, transformed her face, making her appear a jolly sort of woman. He recalled that she’d once been that way all the time. At least, at the start of her marriage she had been.

  “Not at all,” he murmured.

  Her smile grew. “My dear Mr. Whitfield, what a terrible liar you are.”

  “No. No. I speak nothing but the truth,” he promised. “There is nowhere I’d rather be.”

  Mrs. Hawthorne laughed softly. “You, sir, are the very best companion when a woman’s spirits are low. Thank you for keeping me company.”

  “Happy to be of service,” he promised.

  “Oh, are you still here?” Natalia Hawthorne appeared at his side, hand extending to take the cup of punch intended for her, displeasure turning down her lips. “Thank you.”

  He handed over the glass without a word.

  Miss Hawthorne stared at him over the rim of her cup, eyes narrowing. “You don’t have to linger today.”

  “You might be right.” He grinned. “I am happy to observe that all the scoundrels seem to have avoided th
e wake.”

  “That is nothing to be happy about,” Miss Hawthorne grumbled quietly. “I can’t very well reform a rake if none of them show up to start with.”

  He nodded solicitously. Reforming a rake was all Miss Hawthorne ever talked about. “Finding a husband is never easy, I hear.”

  “Indeed you are correct,” Mrs. Hawthorne murmured. “The best spouses are often the most difficult to catch.”

  “So everyone tells me.” Gideon wasn’t quite sure what sort of character deserved to catch Miss Hawthorne, but thought he’d better have patience to spare. The woman spoke her mind and admired younger gentlemen quite openly.

  Why had Lady Jessica Westfall, the daughter of his best friend, the Duke of Stapleton, begged him to help Natalia secure a husband while she was away in London enjoying her first season? Had it been purely to torture him from afar?

  Most likely—although she probably didn’t see it that way.

  Mrs. Hawthorne craned her neck to look about the room again. “I have not seen Mrs. Napier’s sister yet. I was sure Mrs. Beck would make an appearance.”

  Gideon frowned. “Who?”

  Mrs. Hawthorne clucked her tongue. “Mrs. Napier’s widowed sister has come to live with her at last. I told you all about it last week when you called. Such a tragedy to lose a husband at such a young age, and she has two sons in need of a father’s steadying influence, too.”

  “Oh, yes.” Napier had his hands full, and Gideon did remember some of the discussion, now he thought about the matter, but he hardly knew those involved to feel the same level of concern as Mrs. Hawthorne apparently did. He held out his hand for her empty glass. “So very sad. If you would excuse me?”

  “Yes, yes. You go off, but of course we must stay for poor Mrs. Grieves’ sake.”

  He accepted Miss Hawthorne’s empty glass too, eagerly making a move toward the refreshment table, and the doorway that led to freedom. Unfortunately, he ran headlong into Mrs. Napier before he achieved his goal.

  “Mr. Whitfield!” she exclaimed excitedly.

  “Madam.” He nodded politely to the matron, but wasn’t truly interested in beginning a conversation. He glanced toward the door with longing—and his heart skipped a beat at the glimpse of a well-formed figure blocking his path. For a moment, hope bloomed in his chest. Yet the small woman, so pale she almost appeared translucent with the sunlight shining behind her, was indeed a stranger to him.

  The village was not so large that new faces were not instantly the center of attention. This woman was ten times more handsome than past newcomers, and her confident smile hinted she knew she was attractive.

  “Mr. Whitfield, may I introduce my sister, Mrs. Alice Beck, formerly of Bath,” Mrs. Napier murmured at his side.

  For a moment, he was frustrated his escape was yet again delayed, but then he recovered his manners and offered a short bow. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “And you, sir,” Mrs. Beck said softly. “I have heard so much about you since my arrival.”

  He laughed, but he felt nerves jumping inside him. “All good things, I trust.”

  “The very best.” She smiled and a charming pair of dimples graced her cheeks. “My brother-in-law was telling me over breakfast that your interest in botany is known all the way to London.”

  “I doubt that far, but I am a member of the Royal Horticultural Society. Do you have an interest in the subject?”

  Mrs. Beck eased closer. “In many things, sir. I should dearly love to see the specimens you grow. I hear too that you have an astonishing array of greenhouses.”

  “Indeed I do, but far less than the Duke of Stapleton’s estate boasts.”

  She beamed at him, flashing those dimples yet again. “I should dearly love to bring my sons, if you can bear the noise of two boys under the age of ten asking a thousand questions of you.”

  Mrs. Napier edged closer, and Gideon felt himself hemmed in completely. “Mr. Whitfield has the patience of a saint when it comes to children.”

  Mrs. Beck smiled. “Do you have family?”

  “No, none.”

  Mrs. Napier’s smile widened. “None of his own, but he is closely acquainted with the Duke of Stapleton and his children, which I’ve written to you about before, I am sure.”

  “Yes, I remember something to that effect.”

  Gideon did not like it when people remarked on his friendship with the duke. He rarely spoke of the family to others. “The duke’s children are fully grown,” he told Mrs. Beck, to be sure there were no misunderstandings about the Westfall children’s ages.

  Mrs. Beck nodded. “Do they live close?”

  “The Westfalls? Goodness, no.” Gideon shuffled his feet a little and fought the urge to loosen his neck cloth. “Each has moved away years ago.”

  “Have you any news about the success of Lady Jessica’s London season?” Mrs. Napier asked.

  He shook his head. “I’ve not received news of a wedding yet.”

  But he’d been expecting a letter from someone in the family any day now. Lady Jessica Westfall was sure to win hearts wherever she went.

  Mrs. Beck pressed her hand to her brow suddenly. “It is so very warm inside, isn’t it?”

  “Indeed, it is. I was just on my way out for that reason. There were a few ladies outside earlier, where it is cooler. I saw chairs if you’d like to sit in the shade.” Escorting Mrs. Beck and Mrs. Napier to them would help him escape faster, too.

  Mrs. Beck beamed but Mrs. Napier declined to accompany him, although she promised to follow.

  Left with only Mrs. Beck, Gideon stood uncertainly. He’d maneuvered himself into yet another situation where he had to play escort. Would he ever learn to bite his tongue?

  “I would be very grateful for your company, sir,” Mrs. Beck murmured.

  Without any other choice, he nodded. “Very well.”

  He escorted Mrs. Beck to sit in a chair in the shade, but remained on his feet. “Better?”

  “Indeed.” Mrs. Beck beamed her dimples at him again and opened a delicate fan. She fluttered it before her face, but her eyes were trained on his. “I do appreciate your assistance today. Coming to live in a new place is not easy. My sister wants me to feel at home here but such occasions bring back so many unpleasant memories.”

  “Ah, yes,” he murmured. Widowed. He would measure his words carefully unless he wanted to be responsible for a bout of tears. “How long ago did your husband pass away?”

  “Well over a year now.” She glanced around, lips turning down. “We lived with his brother and his wife for a time, and then my sister sent for me. It is better to live in a place that holds no memories of him.”

  He smiled quickly. “I do understand.”

  She turned back to him quickly. “You’ve lost someone you love, too?”

  “No. I never married.” He shook his head. “However, a good friend of mine was widowed years ago and it took a long time for him to recover from the loss. He only recently remarried and is very happy now.”

  “Then there is hope for me,” she said, and then sighed.

  “I’m sure there is,” he promised. A woman like Mrs. Beck, so pretty, so obviously in need of support for her children, would not be overlooked. She would be swooped up soon by anyone who could afford her upkeep.

  Mrs. Beck leaned forward slightly. “Would that I had your confidence, but a woman’s security is a fickle thing. So much that happens is beyond our control.”

  Gideon looked up when he heard someone calling his name urgently.

  Natalia Hawthorne burst outside, eyes wide as she looked around. Mrs. Napier hovered behind her.

  “Mr. Whitfield, there you are,” Miss Hawthorne chided as she shook off Mrs. Napier’s grip and rushed over. “I wondered if you might be ready to escort Mama and I home now?”

  He blinked and wondered if Miss Hawthorne had sampled the ale today. He was not their escort. He’d come alone and intended to leave alone, too. “Where is your father?”


  Miss Hawthorne bent close to whisper in his ear. “I need your help. Please don’t argue.”

  He sighed. Most likely helping Miss Hawthorne involved describing some poor handsome fellow the girl must know everything about immediately. That was better done when no one could overhear her bold questions.

  He considered the request. He’d spoken to Mrs. Grieves, offered his sympathy and support—not that she was alone in the world. There was little more he could do here today. “Very well.”

  He turned to Mrs. Beck, who had risen and was now looking at him through narrowed eyes. There were many who looked at him in that manner lately, often when Natalia Hawthorne was around, too.

  He bowed to Mrs. Beck. “I am afraid you must excuse me. It seems I am needed elsewhere.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Mrs. Beck murmured, a tight smile gracing her lips. “I look forward to seeing you again, sir.”

  “I am sure we will meet again soon,” he agreed. He nodded to Mrs. Napier. “Good day, madam.”

  Miss Hawthorne wrapped her arm around his. “Goodbye, Mrs. Beck. Mrs. Napier.”

  “Miss Hawthorne,” Mrs. Beck said with a tight nod.

  Gideon allowed himself to be directed to the road before he spoke again. “That was hardly courteous. What’s all this rush about?”

  “You know exactly what I am about. I made a promise to myself to protect Lady Jessica’s interests.”

  Jessica had been gone for months, and his life was a great deal quieter for her absence. “What promise?”