In the Arms of the Heiress (A LADIES UNLACED NOVEL) by Maggie Robinson Read Free Book Online

army, and he now wondered if his quest for independence had not backfired rather spectacularly.
    Everyone knew war was hell, but Charles had not expected to plummet so deep into the devil’s environs.
    Louisa concentrated on teasing Kathleen about her chauffeur for the rest of the journey. The train rolled into one more charming station after the other until it got to Stratton Halt. A flock of seagulls that had been perched on the red tile roof of the tiny whitewashed building squawked and circled away as the train pulled in.
    As soon as Charles stepped onto the platform, the scent of salt water enveloped his senses. He’d not been a good sailor during any of his transports, so there was no danger of following in Louisa’s relatives’ footsteps. In any event, it was coming on winter, not ideal for testing the waters.
    But he’d always appreciated the sea, its vastness and power. He would be seeing it safely behind glass soon. Rosemont was set atop a white cliff overlooking its own shingle, according to
The
English Illustrated Magazine.
Louisa may have had her reasons to run away from home, but it hadn’t been for lack of a view.
    A couple of men and a horse-drawn wagon were waiting to collect their luggage, and a young man in livery, presumably Robertson, stood near a dark green Daimler. If Kathleen was expecting a kiss from her sweetheart, she must have been disappointed. Apart from a tip of his cap to the ladies, he was all that was proper, helping the men with the trunks in efficient silence before he got back behind the wheel.
    It was not an effusive welcome for any of them, and Charles felt a prickle of unease. Even Chattin’ Stratton seemed subdued. What exactly had he got himself into?

Chapter

    6
    L ouisa had wished for flags and flowers and a little crowd at the train station. She’d read of such welcomes when heiresses arrived from their honeymoons, but Aunt Grace would not condone such frivolity. Just as well, really. If she ever came back from a real honeymoon, that greeting would be special.
    “Good God.”
    They had finally turned into the drive, Robertson driving far more slowly than Louisa ever would. She tried to see Rosemont with Captain Cooper’s eyes. Eye. She’d have to be careful regarding his injury. It was just like her to ask a person in a wheelchair if they’d like to go for a walk in the garden—she meant to be kind, but her foolish tongue constantly tripped her up.
    To her two eyes, the house looked as tall and forbidding as it ever did. It was built in 1856 by her grandfather, George Stratton, a banker who had delusions of grandeur more suited to a peer of the realm. Of brick construction, it was an odd mix of Gothic and classical, with pitched roofs and turrets and too many windows to wash. Snarling gargoyles perched on every peak and pediment. When she was a little girl, she had named them all.
    “Home sweet home,” she said lightly.
    “It looks like a prison. Or an asylum.”
    “There are plenty of inmates within who would argue they are as honest and sane as you and I.” And they would be lying, Louisa thought. “It looks nicer in the summer when the roses climb over the façade. Rosemont, you see. We are missing the mountain, but my grandfather was very fond of his roses. The aspect is lovely, don’t you think? But it was still a lonely place to live in.”
    The gray-green sea was flat today, but Louisa remembered when it roiled. She took a deep breath of salty air. “It’s too cold to swim now, of course, but perhaps we can walk along the beach later once we get settled.” The car rolled into the courtyard, and in less than half a minute, the staff emerged from the front door and lined up. Beside her, Captain Cooper gave an audible gulp.
    “They’re all here to meet you, Maximillian,” Louisa whispered. “Begin as you mean to go on.”
    “What in hell does that mean?”
    “Hush. Maximillian doesn’t use vulgar language in the presence of a lady. You must accept