When Two Rivers Meet (Regency Romance) Read online

  Copyright © 2015

  When Two Rivers Meet by Deborah M. Hathaway

  All rights reserved.

  Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed by any part or by any means without written consent of the author.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Published by Draft Horse Publishing

  Providence, Utah

  ©Copyright 2015 by Deborah M. Hathaway

  Cover Art by Ravven

  First Printed Edition, 2015

  This book is a work of fiction. All character names and personalities, excluding historical figures, are entirely fictional, created solely in the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015933411

  ISBN 978-0-9851831-2-7

  Sign up for Deborah’s Newsletter!

  www.deborahmhathaway.com/newsletter

  Other books by Deborah M. Hathaway

  A Secret Fire

  To Warm a Wintered Heart

  For my parents, Wes and Diane –

  Your love for each other and your nine children has blessed us all.

  Thank you for your never-ending devotion and support.

  I love you both.

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Rain spilled from the clouds above as Lilyanna Crosgrove gathered the folds of her gown and lifted them just below her ankles, sprinting to the closest tree she could find. She stopped once she reached the sheltering branches, breathing heavily with exhilaration as she looked up through the thick limbs and budding leaves to where the dark sky loomed. A raindrop landed on her black lashes, and she smiled, blinking away the unexpected moisture from her blue eyes.

  Looking beyond the crawling limbs of the oak tree, Lilyanna could see her home, Heatherhill, towering above the branches, and she wondered if she could make the distance to the grand house without getting soaked through.

  She shivered after a raindrop slid down the back of her bonnet, dropping onto her neck, so she pulled her shawl tighter around her. Her mother would scold her for wearing such light coverings, but Lilyanna had been far too excited about the prospect of going outside to think much about her choice in clothing.

  Though the weather was not much warmer than it had been all year, winter had certainly come to a close, and Lilyanna had taken the first opportunity she could to continue her morning walks.

  She leaned against the thick tree trunk, wondering how long the rain would hold her hostage. Yet, as she heard the raindrops' splattering slowly lessen, disappointment filled her, for she knew then she would have to return to Heatherhill in order to avoid another lecture about dawdling from her mother.

  Closing her eyes, Lilyanna took in one last breath of the fresh scent accompanying the morning storm, willing herself to remember how carefree she felt in those brief moments before grasping her shawl even tighter around her shoulders and walking swiftly back to Heatherhill and her waiting mother.

  ***

  Inching as close as she could to the fire screen without touching it, Lilyanna rustled the fabric of her dress together as orange and yellow flames lapped the edges of the fireplace. Satisfied with the fabric's dry appearance, she once again took her place on the red-cushioned chair and reached for her embroidery.

  She looked at her stitching, the off-white thread against the white fabric, and the corners of her lips curled down with disappointment. No matter how hard she tried, the rose she stitched refused to resemble a rose.

  Sighing, she dropped the needlework onto her lap and leaned closer to the fire, resting her chin on her hands as she became entranced with the flames licking the black logs.

  Her blond ringlets tickled her temples, so she blew up to push them away. Thunder rumbled softly outside, and she soon found herself gazing out the large, leaded windows.

  The rain started up again and pushed the leaves of a nearby, budding rosebush up and down, causing them to dance with their glistening moisture, and she could not help but feel envious of the free life that rosebush led.

  Imagining herself on horseback, riding beyond the heather-covered grounds and across the green fields of Heatherhill's estate just outside the city of Bath, Lilyanna felt liberated. She could almost feel her horse beneath her as she pictured them trotting across the wet grass, neither one caring how chilled they felt as each new drop of moisture slid across their cheeks.

  "Lilyanna, did you hear me?"

  Her mother's voice came from the doorway and jolted Lilyanna out of her daydream.

  "I am sorry, Mother," she said, picking up her needlework, "I did not hear you come in."

  "Of course you did not," Mrs. Crosgrove said as she entered the room, making her way to the chair situated across from Lilyanna. "No doubt distracted once again."

  Lilyanna blushed and averted her gaze. "No, indeed. I was simply viewing the roses outside to perhaps better my depiction of them in my needlework."

  "Well, that is a good use of your time," Mrs. Crosgrove responded, pulling her own framed fabric closer to her chair. "I hope your stitch is improving."

  Examining her work, Lilyanna shook her head. "Not by much, I am afraid to say."

  "You have your lack of practice to thank for that."

  Lilyanna held her tongue as she sensed another lecture fast approaching.

  "As I was saying last evening," Mrs. Crosgrove said, piercing her needle through the thin, white fabric before her, "you have shown your skill in playing the pianoforte and in sketching, but there is much more to learn if you are to catch the eye of a gentleman. When my mother was alive, she always said, 'In order to marry, one must be loveable, and to be loveable, one must strive for perfection.'"

  "Yes, Mother," Lilyanna said as she picked at a knot in her thread, "but I do not think I will ever be perfect in anything."

  "Oh, my dear, I know that to be true."

  Lilyanna frowned, but Mrs. Crosgrove carried on as if she did not notice. "You would do well to remember, Lilyanna, only because you cannot perfect yourself does not mean a gentleman showing interest need know the same."

  "Yes, Mother," Lilyanna said, narrowing her eyes, "but is it right to blatantly lie?"

  Mrs. Crosgrove's mouth gaped open. "You would not be lying, Lilyanna. You would simply be hiding your flaws from him, which, I daresay, any gentleman would be grateful for."

  Lilyanna still frowned. "So I would be expected to uphold a pretense of perfection? I do not think any person could manage doing so forever."

  "I have."

  Lilyanna looked up to see if her mother was in jest, however, Mrs. Crosgrove only continued embroidering.

  As Lilyanna tried to decipher her mother's words, she watched the rain splashing against the window, thinking of how unhappy she would be if she had to behave perfectly for the rest of her
life.

  How bad-tempered I would be, she thought.

  A knock at the door echoed throughout the room, interrupting her thoughts, and the Crosgrove's butler, Mr. Harper, walked in, followed closely by a footman holding a silver tray with a letter placed on top.

  Lilyanna sat taller in her seat, straining to see who the letter was addressed to, but the tall, young man handed it to Mrs. Crosgrove before she could make out what the black script said.

  "Oh, it is from your father," Mrs. Crosgrove said, her voice maintaining steady.

  "Is it?" Lilyanna asked with a smile as she tried not to jump from her seat with the news. "Will you read it to me?"

  Mrs. Crosgrove nodded and began to read aloud.

  My dear Mrs. Crosgrove and Little Lily,

  Lilyanna hid her grimace at her father's name for her she never liked and instead focused intently on the words her mother read.

  It has been far too long since I have written, and I must apologize for my lack of correspondence.

  As you no doubt hear daily, the wars continue to rage on, as does the work of a captain in the Royal Navy. Firstly, I must set your troubled minds at ease and let you both know your father and husband remains unharmed and healthy.

  "That is good news," Lilyanna said before Mrs. Crosgrove sighed and continued.

  I have been busy these last months, and with that comes a lack of my own time. It has been more than half a year since I have been home, and I am certain it weighs upon you both.

  However, I do have wonderful news to soften the distress of my absence. I return to England in a month, and I shall be quite happy to be reunited with you both. More good news to follow, because of my retirement at the end of this year, I am being considered to be stationed in London for the duration of my duty. It is not yet settled, but one can always hope.

  I trust you both are well. If not, rest, for you must be in good spirits when I arrive so we might have a jolly time together. I will write again when there is more time.

  Your loving, devoted father and husband,

  Captain Gregory Crosgrove

  Mrs. Crosgrove lowered the letter to her lap as she stopped reading, but she kept her eyes on the single sheet of paper.

  "It is good to finally hear from him," Lilyanna said. "It has been three months, has it not, since he wrote his Christmas letter?"

  Mrs. Crosgrove only nodded, but Lilyanna noticed her cheeks had lost their color.

  "Are you feeling well, Mother?" she asked.

  Mrs. Crosgrove looked over at Lilyanna with a glazed expression. "Yes, of course."

  Lilyanna, though suspicious, decided to leave her mother alone. "May I see the letter?" she asked.

  She reached across the space between them, retrieving the letter as Mrs. Crosgrove handed it to her. Scanning the note, she smiled at her father's slanted script and listened halfheartedly as Mrs. Crosgrove found her voice again and spoke of dinner party plans and concerts they would attend upon Captain Crosgrove's return.

  Lilyanna thought of her father and how excited she felt at the prospect of seeing him again. Captain Crosgrove had served his country admirably from the time of Lilyanna's birth nineteen years before, and she only ever remembered him visiting a mere two times a year, if they were so fortunate.

  However, it was not only Captain Crosgrove's company Lilyanna enjoyed. She relished in the fact that Mrs. Crosgrove seemed infinitely more cheerful when he was around, which in turn meant less criticism for Lilyanna to endure.

  A thought flickered across her mind of Mrs. Crosgrove feigning her joy merely for the sake of her husband, but as she heard the woman clear her throat and look sternly toward Lilyanna, she forgot all else but the dread she felt at having to continue with her needlework.

  She sighed, picking up the fabric to attempt to fix the lopsided rose for what seemed like the hundredth time, mother and daughter both remaining silent for the rest of the morning.

  ***

  Elijah Bainbridge placed his quill pen down on his unfinished letter and stretched out his fingers, trying to dispel the tightness he felt caused by a morning filled with writing.

  The sun shone brightly through the tall window of his spacious study and spread across where he sat at his writing table. He longed to enjoy the rare warmth offered outside, but the business he had to complete prevented him from doing so.

  His dark brown eyes looked at the letter before him, and he sighed, loosening his cravat. He wished his father could be there to do the task, but Elijah knew he may as well get used to writing letters and completing other matters of business, for his father's estate, Cromley Park in Warwickshire, would one day be his to run alone.

  He thought of his parents who, no doubt, were still enjoying themselves in London, and he smiled despite himself as he imagined his mother's boisterous tone and loud laughter shocking everyone they spoke with.

  Though both he and his sister, Hazel, had inherited their father's more traditional behavior, the three of them had always loved Mrs. Bainbridge's jovial attitude and kind behavior toward any she came in contact with, including those not so generous themselves.

  At the thought of Hazel, Elijah's brows furrowed together. The new Mrs. Hazel Godfrey, having recently married Mr. Isaac Godfrey, had requested Elijah to stay with them for the season in Bath, but Elijah had put off writing his response for more than a week.

  The thought of leaving Cromley Park for Bath, a center for social events including parties, balls, and concerts, caused his temples to pound in protest, especially when his mind's eye produced an image of a certain auburn-haired woman.

  Three years had passed since he had ended his relationship with the woman, Miss Billings, but the rumors she had caused to swirl about his name remained ever-present, and that in turn resulted in Elijah's dislike for being out in society altogether.

  He had continued to attend the occasional public gathering, but each time, a sour taste would form in his mouth, for he assumed all women to behave as deceptively as Miss Billings. He also had a difficult time finding any woman who desired to know him further as soon as she became acquainted with the gossip surrounding him.

  Perhaps the rumors have lessened, he thought. Perhaps it is time for me to move on.

  His sister's request scared him still, however, for if he accepted, he would be agreeing to Hazel introducing all manner of young women to him, and he would therefore be forced to attend various social affairs as to not appear rude or ungrateful.

  He shook his head, retrieving his quill pen and finishing his correspondence as he tried to dispel his thoughts.

  However, as soon as he completed the mundane task, it did nothing but produce an even greater desire in him to escape from his business and responsibilities, if only for a short month or two, even if it meant suffering through Hazel's imminent matchmaking attempts.

  Quickly and without another thought, he pulled out a fresh piece of paper and scribbled out a short acceptance to Hazel's request.

  He folded the paper, sealing it with red wax and the Bainbridge family seal, before tightening his cravat and leaving the room, determined to send the letter off immediately, knowing full well if he did not, he was bound to change his mind.

  ***

  "You dance very well, Miss Crosgrove."

  Lilyanna gave a weak smile to Mr. Terrence Quigley, a gentleman she had been introduced to only days before, as they danced in unison with other couples in the crowded Upper Assembly Rooms.

  The men and women danced standing shoulder to shoulder, trying to fit in the set. As cold as it was outside, Lilyanna sensed her cheeks becoming rosier by the second from the heat of swarming people and constant movements, but she reminded herself she had quite some time before the dance finished.

  "I practice my dancing alone at night prior to retiring," Mr. Quigley said, "so I can admit to being more than proficient in the art. However, with your dancing, it is as if you were taught by a goddess, you move so gracefully."

  His lips curved into
a smile, oddly widening his elongated face.

  "Thank you," Lilyanna managed to say, "but it was my mother who taught me."

  They reached for each other's hands for the next move of the dance, and Lilyanna dreaded once more the feel of his sweaty palms through their gloves.

  As soon as they crossed paths, she pulled her hand from his and held it slightly away from her gown, careful not to touch the soft pink muslin with another soiled pair of gloves due to his perspiration.

  "Your hair looks very fine tonight, Miss Crosgrove," he continued.

  Lilyanna nodded her thanks, but as she saw him open his mouth to give her, no doubt, another dry compliment, she spoke first.

  "How are you enjoying your stay with your aunt and uncle?"

  He looked delighted with her question. "Oh, I do enjoy my time with them."

  "I am sure they enjoy spending time with you, as well."

  "Why, yes, I know they do," he said. "Of course, how could they not, for I would not let them regret inviting me to stay with them."

  "Of course."

  A couple passed by them before Mr. Quigley asked, "Do you find yourself at the Assemblies quite often?"

  Lilyanna nodded. "Yes, my mother finds them entertaining enough, so she never ceases to bring me along."

  "Then I shall have to attend them more often, shall I not?"

  Lilyanna's smile faltered, scolding herself inwardly after wishing she had told the man a fib.

  "Is Bath to your liking?" she asked.

  "Yes, I daresay it is."

  They moved past another couple.

  "In fact," Mr. Quigley said, "I think I love the city so much, I am going to have a hard time leaving it for the country again."

  "Oh, I would not find it so hard, Mr. Quigley," she responded. "I much prefer the country to—"

  "No, this cannot be true, Miss Crosgrove."

  Lilyanna paused at his interruption, giving him a quizzical look.

  "Bath has far more exciting events than the dreary hillsides surrounding it," he said.