Summers' Embrace Read online

  Summers’ Embrace

  By Lora Thomas

  Copyright © 2021 Lora Perkins

  Kindle Edition

  License Notes

  This ebook is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to an online retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  This is a word of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Cover Design: Selfpubbookcovers/RCMatthewsArtist

  Introduction

  Following her parents' tragic death, Catrina Wilcox becomes the ward of her overbearing, uncaring older brother. After years of being shipped off to finishing schools, Catrina is ready for one final summer of merriment before she will be forced to marry a man of her brother’s choosing. After an accidental encounter with the notorious rake Thomas Summers, the Viscount of Huntsley, Catrina travels with friends to the seaside resort of Eden, where she reencounters the Viscount and leaves a lasting impression that he will never forget.

  Thomas has just learned he must marry by his twenty-fifth birthday or his father’s vast fortune will go to his widowed mother, a scheming woman filled with hatred for her dead husband and her son. With no suitable prospects in mind, he decides he needs a reprieve from the situation and ventures to Eden, where he again crosses paths with Catrina.

  After several disastrous encounters with Catrina—and one morning the pair will never forget—Thomas returns to London to begin his search for a bride. As his path continues to cross with Catrina’s, the attraction between them grows. However, they must be wary, for others around them are plotting to control not only just their fortunes but their very lives.

  Chapter One

  The carriage hit another rut in the road. Catrina groaned and readjusted in her seat. The carriage teetered to the left, then the right, before correcting its position. It jostled again as the wheel struck another rut in the road, this one different than the others. Deeper. Catrina was thrown from her seat and an “oomph” left her as her chaperone for the trip, Ilene, landed on top of her.

  “Whooo!” the driver called.

  “Pardon me, miss,” Ilene said, climbing from her mistress.

  Catrina climbed off the carriage floor. “That is quite all right, Ilene. It was not your fault. It was Mr. Wilkerson. I do believe he was purposefully trying to hit every rut in the road.”

  “It’s not his fault, Miss Wilcox. The rains these past few weeks have been dreadful.”

  “So he claims. Yet, for the past hour, we have bounced around this carriage like an eddy in a stream.”

  The carriage door opened, and the footman, Jack, stuck his head inside. “Are you all right, Miss Wilcox?”

  “I am fine, Mr. Whitton. What has happened?”

  “We seem to have broken a wheel, miss.”

  Catrina sighed and rolled her eyes. Standing, she mumbled, “It is no wonder.”

  “What are you doing, Miss Wilcox?” Ilene asked.

  Catrina did not turn to face her companion. “Getting out of this coach, that is what I am doing.”

  “It’s safer in here.”

  “Safer? We will cook before the wheel is repaired. Besides, I want to stretch my legs.” Before Ilene could stop her, Catrina climbed out of the carriage.

  “Miss Wilcox, I must protest,” Ilene said, exiting the carriage.

  Catrina took a few steps away from the coach and turned to face her chaperone. Ilene resembled her position. She was tall and thin with entirely gray hair and a long pointy nose. Maybe her nose was not long; perhaps it just looked that way because her face was? Her long face made her eyes look bulbous. Or, maybe it was the tight bun? Whichever the reason, it caused her nose to look like a beak. Even her dress was prudish—a drab gray, high-necked, long-sleeved wool gown with lace around the neckline and wrists.

  “What are you protesting this time, Ilene?”

  “You should be addressing me as Miss Whitley. What did you learn at that governess’s house?”

  Catrina rolled her eyes and turned her back to Ilene. Mockery was in her tone as she replied, “Miss Whitley.”

  “Proper young ladies do not act in such a manner. Especially daughters of wealthy landowners. I would have thought Miss Eddy would have beaten that into you.”

  Catrina whirled around to face her chaperone. “She tried. It did not work.”

  “Now, see here, Miss Wilcox.” Ilene looked skyward. “Proper young ladies do not allow the sun to touch their flesh. It is unhealthy.”

  “What is unhealthy about fresh air and sunshine?”

  “It is unheard of.” Ilene approached and took Catrina’s arm, pulling her towards a large maple tree. “Come. Stand in the shade. We cannot have your skin becoming blemished.”

  Catrina allowed Ilene to pull her under the tree.

  “How long will it take to repair the wheel, Mr. Wilkerson?” When Catrina spoke his name, her brows came together. Did her brother purposely hire staff whose last name started with W? Wilkerson? Whitley? Even the footman was Whitton? What was wrong with him? She just hoped the household staff had a variety of names. And if they didn’t, she’d give them one.

  Mr. Wilkerson looked up from his inspection of the wheel. “It’s hard to say, Miss Wilcox. I’ll send the footman to the nearest farm to see if they have a spare. If not, then we’ll have to wait until Jack can make it to Windy Ridge,” he said, referring to the family estate, “and for them to send another carriage.”

  Catrina scowled. Another W.

  She looked at Jack. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on now.”

  Jack looked at Mr. Wilkerson.

  Wilkerson nodded. “You heard Miss Wilcox.”

  Jack nodded and left, backtracking their course.

  Catrina smoothed down the front of her blue riding habit.

  “Where is your bonnet?” Ilene asked.

  Catrina shrugged. “I do not know, nor do I care.”

  “Miss Wilcox, you must be properly attired.” Ilene stepped away, approaching the coach. “I shall see if you left it in the carriage.”

  A vindictive smile pulled Catrina’s full lips. “You do that. While you are searching for my bonnet, I think I will take a walk.”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Stop me.” Catrina turned and headed down the road.

  “Get back here, Miss Wilcox!”

  “No!”

  “Miss Wilcox! Get back here!” Ilene called again. When Catrina did not stop, she retorted, “Your brother will hear of this!”

  “I certainly hope so!” Catrina threw over her shoulder.

  “Mr. Wilkerson, do something,” Ilene demanded.

  The coachman looked between the two women. He dusted off his hands and sat on top of the broken wheel. He reached inside his
coat and pulled out a small flask. Placing the container to his lips, he took a long drink.

  “Mr. Wilkerson?” Ilene screeched. “What is that you’re drinking?”

  “Whiskey.”

  “This is no time for drinking. Go after Miss Wilcox! Do something!”

  “I am. I’m waiting for someone to repair this wheel.”

  Catrina could hear Ilene bickering with Mr. Wilkerson, but she did not slow her pace. She wanted time away from people. She needed time to prepare herself to face her intolerable brother. She knew what he would demand the instant he saw her…marriage. On her last visit, he was already making plans for her to wed. She did not want to marry. For the last eight years, she had been under the dictate of others, and she wanted just a few months of freedom before she was constricted to the confines of marriage. And part of the freedom she wanted? Catrina’s dearest friend, Elena Paxsley, had invited Catrina to come with her family to the relatively new seaside resort of Eden next month. Catrina’s brother, Branson, would protest, of course, but Catrina would come up with a plan to convince him to allow her to go. If only she were twenty-one—then he could not dictate her life.

  Stopping on the side of the road, she looked around. Rows of maple and oak trees shaded the lane from the sun. Squirrels were enjoying the trees and frolicking upon the thick branches. To the left was a stream with a few ducks. To the right was a meadow covered in wildflowers.

  Sighing, Catrina turned her face towards the sun. She enjoyed the outdoors. Her brother would constantly reprimand her for it. Come to think of it, there was nothing that Branson didn’t complain about. She laughed too much. She danced too much. She sang too much. She was too happy. Name anything she did, and he complained.

  She tried to be sympathetic to his plight. After all, their parents, Patrick and Viola, were killed in a carriage accident when Catrina was just a girl. Branson had just turned seventeen and was in his last semester at Eton. What seventeen-year-old boy wanted the responsibility of his ten-year-old sister? Suddenly, Branson had to give up his carefree ways and take on the role of both mother and father. He returned home from Eton and took over the family estate—never going on his grand tour of Europe like most men do. Branson tolerated Catrina as much as any brother could, but after two years, he sent her away to seminary. When she returned two years later, he sent her to a different school, stating she needed more training. This had been her routine for the past six years—the last three years her home had been at Miss Eddy’s Training for Proper Young Ladies. She came home during the summers for a few weeks…only long enough to work on Branson’s nerves and then return back to Miss Eddy’s.

  Catrina crinkled her nose. Miss Eddy’s Training for Proper Young Ladies. Psh. Hell on earth was more like it. Miss Eddy had been the governess for several of England’s most prominent families. Her last employer terminated her from employment for Miss Eddy had a progressive notion that women should be just as thoroughly educated as men. It was not an option, for women were not to be more educated than their husbands. Once ousted by decent society, Miss Eddy relocated to Reading and offered her services as a unique governess. Miss Eddy said young ladies were like little fledgling birds and needed to fly away from the nest for proper training, so she opened her home for training. Every few years, she acquired new students to train and educate them on the more refined ways of life.

  Miss Eddy was strict and ran her home like a military encampment. Everything was scheduled. Everything. Meals, bodily functions, outings, lessons. Name an activity, and it was planned down to the second. And Lord have mercy should the schedule have to be deviated from for a minute. One would think the world was ending to hear Miss Eddy.

  Oh, there was a positive to Miss Eddy’s. Catrina met her dearest friend, Elena Paxsley, there. The two were nearly inseparable when at Miss Eddy’s. The only time they were apart was during the summer. And now? Well, Catrina’s world was changing. Both she and Elena had completed their training—and she was far too old to return—and were now on their way home to begin their new lives. Elena was expecting to attend her first season this fall. Catrina was jealous. Elena would get to visit London and dance and drink and be wooed until she found a husband. Whereas Catrina would be forced to return to Swindon to endure her brother’s brooding nature and constant complaints about their neighbors…the Montgomerys.

  Catrina knew very little about the Montgomerys other than they owned the adjacent property to hers. Elena, on the other hand, was full of knowledge about the Montgomerys. They were from old money and very wealthy, yet held no titles. Mr. Richard Montgomery had no children of his own but had married a widow who had an older child. Montgomery gained his wealth from copper, sugar, wine, and tobacco. They had connections with the St. Johns—who were notoriously scandalous. Catrina could not remember their links to the St. Johns, only that there was one. And for that reason alone, the Montgomerys’ name hit the proper circles.

  Catrina looked down the road to the carriage. The coach was now out of her sight. A playful smile pulled her lips as she turned right and entered the meadow. The wildflowers and grasses were tall, resting mid-thigh. As she walked, she allowed her hand to brush along the tops of the foliage. Stopping, she plucked a yellow flower and brought it to her nose, inhaling the fragrance. She continued walking in the field, picking flowers as she went. When she reached the edge of the meadow, she turned and smiled, watching the butterflies float over the blossoms. How free they seemed. At ease with what life had given them. No conniving brothers. No worries about finding a husband.

  Sighing, she brought the bouquet to her nose.

  Perhaps, Branson had changed over the past year. Maybe he had found a wife. Not that she would know. He never wrote. She was the only lady at Miss Eddy’s who did not receive mail from family. At first, it hurt her, and she would cry. But she soon became numb to the pain. Her brother was young and did not know better—at least that was what Elena’s mother, Victoria, tried to convince her of, and at first, Catrina believed Victoria. But as time went on, she knew the truth…Branson did not care enough about her to write. He was solely interested in himself.

  She turned and began walking back through the meadow but stopped when she heard a thunderous noise. Turning, she noticed a man upon a horse racing in her direction. She quickly stepped to the left to move out of the man’s path. However, he readjusted his course, coming straight for her. She moved again, and so did he. Suddenly her eyes grew wide as she realized what was happening. He was purposely heading straight for her. She screamed and dropped her bouquet, running as fast as her legs would carry her towards the tree line.

  She could hear the horse gaining on her and looked over her shoulder just in time to see him reach for her. She was going to be taken, and there was nothing she could do about it!

  Just as the man’s hand reached for her arm, she screamed, stumbled, and fell. She could feel the horse’s hooves pound the ground beside her and brush against her thigh. The wind left her body as her chest struck the earth. Coughing, she pushed her torso from the ground. The man pulled back on the reins of his horse and turned to her.

  There were more shouts from behind her. The man looked at her, then in the direction of the voices, and turned, kicking his horse away.

  “Go after him!” a voice called. “I will check on the lady.”

  Another horse went racing past her. Catrina turned and noticed a second man, the one who had ordered the other to chase after her assailant. The sun behind him shrouded his image. She had to get away from the man. She tried to scoot backward, but pain surged up her right foot to her ankle, causing her movements to stop and a grimace to cross her face.

  “Are you all right, miss?” the man asked, kneeling beside her.

  Catrina’s voice was lost as she gazed at the most handsome man she had ever seen. He possessed a strong square jawline covered in several day’s growth of whiskers. Green eyes filled with concern studied her. His perfectly arched brows were drawn together, creating a small c
revice over his Grecian nose. The man was not wearing a hat, and his dark brown hair was mussed—she assumed from him racing his horse across the meadow. When he smiled at her, she could feel heat race up her chest. If she died right now, she would be happy.

  “What is on your mind, Huntsley?” Joshua Manning, the Baron Hawke, asked his longtime friend, Thomas Summers, the Viscount of Huntsley.

  Thomas readjusted in his seat and looked around the small tavern. A man was in the corner, eating a bowl of stew. The bartender was behind the bar, polishing the same glass for the hundredth time. A little boy was at the hearth, clearing out ashes.

  “Thomas?”

  Thomas looked at his friend. “Why are we here?”

  Joshua drew his brows together. “To locate your cousin.”

  “Not that. Here? In Swindon?”

  A deep breath left Joshua. “You are here because you are a loyal, devoted son. I am here because I am the idiotic, loyal friend, you begged to come for a visit.”

  “Is that it?”

  “You’re the idiot?”

  Thomas picked up his tankard. “I think I like your first response better, Hawke.”

  “Then you are an idiotic, loyal, and devoted son.”

  “That is not helping the matter any.”

  Joshua shrugged and removed his feet from the adjacent chair. “Because your mother lost her husband a few months ago, and you felt it was your duty to stay with her until her time of mourning is over. You became bored and asked me to come to stay in the guest house a bit.” Joshua took a drink of ale. “And because your mother was foolish enough to invite her nephew, Clayton, to come live with her in hopes of helping him become a better person and not the depraved man he is known to be.”

  “I need better friends,” Thomas mumbled.

  “No. You need a better family. How was it your parents even met? I mean, your father was such a likable fellow, and your mother is such a harpy.”