Flights of Fancy (American Heiresses Book #1) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Jen Turano

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204 pages

English

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Miss Isadora Delafield may be an heiress, but her life is far from carefree. When her mother begins pressuring her to marry an elderly and uncouth duke, she escapes from the high society world she's always known and finds herself to be an unlikely candidate for a housekeeper position in rural Pennsylvania.Mr. Ian MacKenzie is known for his savvy business sense and has built his reputation and fortune completely on his own merits. But when his adopted parents are in need of a new housekeeper and Isadora is thrown into his path, he's unexpectedly charmed by her unconventional manner.Neither Isadora nor Ian expected to find the other so intriguing, but when mysterious incidents on the farm and the truth of Isadora's secret threaten those they love, they'll have to set aside everything they thought they wanted for a chance at happy-ever-after.

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Historical romance

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	01 janvier 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493417339
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0461€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jen Turano
Gentleman of Her Dreams: A L ADIES OF D ISTINCTION Novella from With All My Heart Romance Collection
A Change of Fortune
A Most Peculiar Circumstance
A Talent for Trouble
A Match of Wits
After a Fashion
In Good Company
Playing the Part
At Your Request: An A PART FROM THE C ROWD Novella from All For Love Romance Collection
Behind the Scenes
Out of the Ordinary
Caught by Surprise
Flights of Fancy
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2019 by Jennifer L. Turano
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1733-9
This is a work of historical reconstruction; the appearances of certain historical figures are therefore inevitable. All other characters, however, are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Author is represented by Natasha Kern Literary Agency.
Dedication
In memory of Dolores Turano
Love you always!
Jen
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jen Turano
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
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18
19
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21
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37
Epilogue
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Chapter 1

J ULY 1885 N EWPORT
“Wonderful news, darling. I have it on good authority from none other than Mr. Ward McAllister that the Duke of Montrose has taken a special interest in you.”
With her brief respite from the frivolities transpiring at Mr. Theodore Davis’s Newport cottage clearly at an end, Miss Isadora Delafield pulled her gaze from the sight of the moon casting its beams over the ocean. Turning, she discovered her mother, Hester Delafield, advancing toward her over the seashell path that meandered through the back courtyard.
Keeping her back ramrod straight, because doing anything less would bring on a certain lecture from her mother, she refused to sigh when she noticed Hester was bubbling with excitement as she stepped directly underneath a gas lamp.
“Isn’t that the most marvelous news?” Hester all but gushed.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to claim it’s marvelous. Pleasant perhaps, but . . .”
“You’ve attracted the notice of a duke,” Hester countered. “A circumstance that warrants the word marvelous , especially since I learned of the duke’s notice from, again, Mr. Ward McAllister, the social arbiter of our day.”
Isadora tilted her head. “You may be putting too much stock in Mr. McAllister’s assessment of the duke’s interest in me. I only recently met the gentleman. It was not as if we spent more than a moment exchanging the expected pleasantries as I was presented to the duke in the receiving line.”
Hester lowered herself onto the bench beside Isadora. “From what I understand, the duke lingered over your hand. And , according to my most trusted sources, he’s been questioning everyone endlessly about you, which leaves me to believe the gentleman is well and truly smitten.”
While there was no debating that the duke had lingered over her hand, Isadora was convinced that the lingering had merely been a ruse used by the duke to afford him the luxury of perusing the low neckline of her gown. His gaze had all but devoured her charms, making her so uncomfortable that she’d finally, and with a great deal of determined tugging on her part, retrieved her hand from his, earning a narrowing of the duke’s eyes in the process.
Because she’d been instructed from a tender age that a lady was not to annoy a gentleman with lofty connections no matter the circumstances, she’d quickly summoned up her brightest smile, which seemed to have gone far in appeasing the duke’s displeasure. He’d immediately returned the smile, shot another gaze to the neckline of her gown, and then, to her utmost disbelief, he’d had the audacity to send her what could only be described as a roguish wink.
His boldness, combined with the notion that he was apparently questioning everyone about her, left Isadora with the distinct impression that the man had traveled across the ocean to secure himself an heiress, as many aristocrats were doing these days. Regrettably, he’d apparently decided she was an heiress worthy of his consideration.
“I don’t have the words to describe how delighted I am by this fortuitous turn of events,” Hester continued. “I’ve always known your beauty and reputation for adhering to the proprieties would land you the cream of the crop, but a duke ? Why, I’m all aflutter.” She flipped open her fan and began applying it vigorously to her face, the furious fanning displacing strands of dark locks streaked with only a touch of gray that her lady’s maid had spent hours arranging. “This is exactly why I’ve been so earnest with your upbringing. It’s also why I insisted you wear that back brace for years, because it forced you to maintain a rigid posture, which draws attention to your lovely neck.”
“I don’t believe the duke is interested in me because I possess perfect posture.”
Hester stopped fanning herself. “He’s undoubtedly interested in your posture. He’s a duke, and as such, he needs a wife who’ll do justice to the title of duchess.” She released a throaty laugh. “I don’t imagine there are many slouching duchesses to be found over in Britain.”
“I imagine you’re right about that.”
Hester released a satisfied sigh. “All the dance instructions, decorum lessons, fittings at Worth, and, well, I could go on and on, but allow me to simply say that you’ve been groomed from birth to make a most splendid match. All of my hopes and dreams for you are now coming to pass.” She began waving her fan at a furious rate again. “When word of the duke’s interest spreads, I do believe our standing in society will rival that of the Mrs. Astor.”
Realizing matters were quickly getting away from her, Isadora rose from the bench, smoothing out a wrinkle from the fitted skirt of her ball gown. She summoned up a smile, even though she was fighting a curious urge to scowl. “Not that I care to disappoint you, Mother, but I must be perfectly candid before you begin picking out my trousseau. If it has escaped your notice, the Duke of Montrose is at least twice my age. I cannot in good conscience allow you to continue believing I would ever encourage him to pursue me.”
Hester got to her feet and rapped Isadora’s arm with her fan. “Don’t be absurd. Of course you’ll encourage him to pursue you. He’s a duke, and there aren’t many of those roaming around these days.” She rapped her fan against Isadora’s arm again. “And yes, he’s older than you, but older gentlemen possess an air of sophistication that I’ve always found most appealing. There’s been many a time I’ve wished I’d married an older man. Your father, as you know, is only two years older than I am. That right there could be to blame for why we’re rarely in accord these days.”
“You and Father are rarely in accord because he cannot abide society and you thrive in it.”
“I suppose that is an excellent point. However, if he’d been older when we first met, I would have known straightaway that he didn’t care for society. Not that you could be aware of this, but your father, at one time, adored attending balls, operas, and the frequent house parties. It wasn’t until he reached his thirties that he grew bored with what he began calling ‘ridiculous frivolities,’ and that is when we began living separate lives.”
“If you don’t care to continue living separately from him, you could always join him on his yacht as he travels the world.”
Hester shuddered. “And miss the New York season? I think not.” Hester’s gaze suddenly sharpened as she settled her attention on something behind them. “But enough about that. I shouldn’t have broached the subject of your father because our talk has caused your cheeks to heat. You know I find blotchy skin most unattractive on you.” She took hold of Isadora’s arm and spun her around to face the ocean. “Let us hope the sea breeze remedies that situation because, don’t look now, but the duke is heading our way. I imagine he’s taken leave of the amusements inside the cottage because he longs to become better acquainted with you.” Hester waved her fan, not in front of her own face, but in front of Isadora’s. “Now, chin up, my dear, and for goodness’ sake, smile. We mustn’t allow the gentleman to get the impression you’re a surly sort.”
Fighting the impulse to bolt in the opposite direction, one that would take her straight off a cliff and into the sea, Isadora lifted her chin, forced a smile, and turned to greet the approaching duke. Her smile slipped, though, when she noticed that the duke had stopped a few feet away and appeared to be waiting for them to join him .
Before she could point out that breach of etiquette to her mother, Hester was off like a shot, stopping directly in front of the duke and dipping into a curtsy.
As the duke presented Hester with a bow, Isadora took a second to study the man, something she’d not bothered to do when she’d been presented to him in the receiving line, since she’d been more interested in getting away from him than taking note of his appearance.
Like all the gentlemen tonight, the duke was wearing a form