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  Perfectly Proper

  Copyright © 2011

  by Bailey Griffin

  ISBN 978-1-935757-14-6

  Cover Design by Viper

  All rights reserved. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

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  Romance Divine

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  The Romance and Intrigue Begin With:

  SIMPLY SUITABLE

  ISBN 978-1-934446-08-9

  Catherine Richardson is an intelligent and beautiful woman, but older bluestockings don't get many offers. Merrick Sinclair has no interest in marriage, but is always interested in women, in the plural. Thrown together as they try to decipher mysterious symbols and avert disaster, neither is prepared to decipher their feelings for each other.

  Author Bailey Griffin’s Simply Suitable takes the reader on a wild and romantic ride, from coming out balls and English society, to spies working for King and Country, to the depths of the British Museum. Merrick Sinclair, Earl of Stonewick, notorious rake, and part-time spy is bored and in search of a Mistress among the girls and ladies of the season. But his hunt for carnal pleasures is waylaid when he encounters dangers in an assignment for the crown and love, in the form of Catherine Richardson. Catherine doesn’t want an arranged marriage; she wants romance and passion, at least once. When she uses her skills in ancient languages to translate part of a mystic scroll, she finds passion and danger. It’s a thrilling cat and mouse chase between both lovers and villains.

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  Perfectly

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  Bailey Griffin

  ONE

  The distinct cadence of swordplay reverberated sharply through the room. Sunlight edged through the windows, slowly dispelling the last of the night shadows still clinging to the floor. In the growing light, one could discern an elegantly appointed ballroom. Muted colors of sage, white, and cream enhanced the elaborate molding and paneled walls. Crystal chandeliers hung over a gleaming parquet floor, ever ready for the next event.

  Two figures circled each other in silence, gauging for any signs of weakness to exploit. One, tall with a more slender build, moved with fluid precision. The other, with a somewhat heavier build, executed moves with a solid confidence. All in all, they were evenly matched, and only a mistake would provide the opportunity for one to triumph over the other.

  Double-doors at the far end of the room swung open, shifting shadows in the growing sunlight. No noise was made, but the movement was enough to momentarily distract one of the swordsmen. With a deft flick of the wrist from his opponent, he was disarmed. A decidedly feminine shout of triumph echoed through the room as the loser’s weapon clattered to the floor.

  With a laugh and a shake of her head, Morgan Renee Westfall removed her fencing mask sending her long, chestnut hair cascading down her back. Blue eyes sparkling with mischief, she lightly kissed her now-scowling fencing partner on the cheek.

  “Am I getting better or are you just letting me win? That’s the second time this week. You know I don’t want to be coddled.” Morgan quirked an eyebrow as she waited for a response.

  Derek Logan, Morgan’s second cousin, glared at the butler who had opened the doors before responding to her with a forced smile. “You must be practicing more my dear. You know I don’t like to lose.”

  Still smiling, Morgan turned to see why Paul, the household’s butler, interrupted her morning exercise. Her smile grew even wider as she saw the letter on the silver salver.

  “Is that from Jack?” All thoughts of exercise vanished as Morgan quickly crossed the room.

  Morgan’s older brother was out of town and she was expecting a letter from him. But the Earl of Rathbourne, or Westfall as he was more familiarly called, was not known for his consistent correspondence. As she reached for the letter, Derek interrupted her thoughts.

  “I’m sure your brother will write when he has time, Morgan. There is nothing here that can’t be handled.”

  She bristled at Derek’s proprietary tone, but composed herself before replying as it was something of a sore subject with Derek. “I realize you are quite capable managing things. But it is unusual for him to not respond to my letters, especially with the problems that have been occurring.”

  “Morgan, I don’t know why you persist in making something out of nothing. Things happen. These are normal occurrences on estates all over England. The incidents are not anything I can’t, and haven’t already addressed. Your brother also has more important things to attend than responding to every imagined crisis. You obviously have too much time on your hands if you have convinced yourself things are that dire.”

  This was not the first time Derek minimized her opinions, especially when dealing with estate matters. Morgan took a deep breath and tried for an even tone. “Yes, you have addressed them, and I know it is not unusual for him to be out of contact for a time, but I would feel better knowing Jack was at least aware of what’s been happening.” Morgan did not further contradict Derek by giving voice to the uneasy feeling that things had been anything but ‘normal’ since Jack departed.

  The butler waited until the exchange ended. Clearing his throat, he extended the tray with the missive, “My lady.”

  Even before she saw the handwriting was not Jack’s, her excitement waned. She grew up with the household staff, knew them, and could tell the butler plainly did not have good news.

  “There has been another incident, and this was left behind.” Paul was the epitome of a proper butler. But at this moment, his usually inscrutable expression was troubled.

  Morgan quickly scanned the note. Written in an almost illegible scrawl were the words The time draws near. There was no signature, and no other distinguishing marks on the paper. She huffed a breath of frustration. “Who brought this? Did anything else happen?”

  Derek plucked the note from her hand without asking, and frowned slightly as he read over it. As the only adult male relative currently in residence, Derek’s position was more of de facto guardian and head of household during Jack’s absences, but much to his annoyance, the butler always addressed Morgan first. He didn’t bother to look up from examining the note as the butler replied.

  “It was found in the kitchens my lady. The cook went to prepare pheasant for the evening meal and found dead rats in the larder. It appears to have been poison.”

  Morgan suppressed a shudder. Rats were not unusual in the city, and she knew the staff worked hard to keep them out of the house, but no one would put poison in the larder—it was simply too dangerous to be that close to the food.

  “After she found the note, Cook took the liberty of discarding the remainder of the food.”

  As she was listening to Paul, she felt, rather than saw, Derek shift away from her. She turned her head in time to see Derek crumple the note and toss it into the fire. Morgan was dumbfounded “What are you doing? That was evidence!”

  With a dismissive snort he turned toward her. “Don’t be so dramatic. Evidence for what? It’s more likely a careless maid who didn’t want to be fired or just a boy’s prank.”

  “You had no right t
o do that Derek! Why would this be a prank, somebody could have been injured!” Two bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks. She resented the high-handed way Derek behaved with her at times. Morgan chose to ignore his comment about the maid. She didn’t understand his chronic dislike of the household staff.

  Derek sighed as he raised a brow, “As talented as you may be in some of men’s pursuits, you’re still not a man, and would have no concept of what mischief young boys can get into.”

  He turned to the butler, “Mrs. Leeds should have kept closer watch on her staff and her area. I will consider whether or not to deduct the cost of the food from their pay.”

  Morgan was outraged, but knew this was not the time to address it. If he followed through with his threat, she would make up the difference with her pin money anyway.

  “Thank you, Paul, that will be all for now. Tell Mrs. Leeds that whatever she can provide for supper will be fine.” Paul acknowledged Morgan’s instructions with a slight bow before leaving the room. It did not escape Derek’s attention that his own directive was not acknowledged, and that rankled.

  Morgan suddenly felt exhausted. The strain of the past few weeks was wearing on her. She would send another note to Jack about this, whether Derek agreed or not. Clearly, at least to her, something else had to be done if Jack still did not respond. His lack of contact also weighed heavily on Morgan. She was worried about her brother, but knew she needed to focus on what was at hand.

  Chewing on her lower lip, a nervous habit when she was thinking, Morgan reviewed the prior events. This was the fifth incident in three months. The problems started shortly after Jack left. Initially, they were more of a nuisance, and although costly, did not seem threatening. First, a perfectly good barn roof at the estate suddenly sprang a leak the night of a storm, ruining recently harvested hay. Then, a dam failed, flooding part of the fields. Morgan took both mishaps in stride as bad luck at first, and sent general updates to Jack. He did not respond, but she had not requested he do so. Derek made the repairs, and she considered the matter closed. But, when the traces of the carriage horses snapped, sending Derek and her into a ditch, and a fire mysteriously started in the townhouse mews, the incidents seemed more than just bad luck. She felt even more frustrated now that she allowed Derek to minimize her concerns.

  The physical repairs were easy to take care of as money was not an issue. Repairing damage from gossip was an entirely different manner. Word of the string of “misfortunes” eventually made the latest on dit list. Morgan tried to ignore the gossip, but knew the ton was collectively shaking its head in disapproval. Jack’s apparent disinterest in managing the affairs of his position as an Earl was sometimes hard to defend. Morgan sent two more letters to Jack, in a slightly more urgent tone. This time she specifically requested a response, but still none came. And now, the only piece of evidence that the mishaps could possibly be more than accidents was destroyed.

  Derek’s voice pulled her out of her musings. “Morgan, I know you are worried about Jack, but this is typical of him. He may be the Earl, but he never asked for the title. It’s been seven years since your parents and brother died, and Jack has never taken his seat in the House of Lords, much less showed an interest in town life and dealing with estate business.”

  Morgan always felt compelled to defend her brother when his lack of participation in the “typical” role of a member of the peerage was challenged. Derek was no exception. “He already had a life Derek, one he created. He never planned to be an Earl. He wasn’t prepared to just give up everything!”

  “That’s the problem Morgan. He is the Earl. He has a responsibility and a duty, whether he wished for it or not. He should turn over his shipping business to a manager. His continued absence causes too many problems. And I’m not talking about the type of problems like these incidents you insist on exaggerating. People are talking Morgan, and you can’t afford that. Not now. There is only so much I can do to control the damage, especially since I’m not the Earl. I had a life too Morgan. One I’ve willingly sacrificed to help the family.”

  Morgan barely stifled a retort. Derek came from a small, remote, village around Dartmoor. He was the son of an impoverished Baron, her father’s cousin. His father’s gambling left Derek’s family almost destitute. Had it not been for her immediate family’s misfortune, he would most likely still be there. But what he said about trying to help was true, so she strove to be generous. Morgan was not prepared for what came next.

  He continued, “I’m sure your brother didn’t expect one of the responsibilities to still be you.”

  He said it casually, an off-hand comment, his face showed no trace of censure. But Morgan still felt a pang of guilt. As the only daughter of a wealthy and titled family, Morgan, like other daughters in her position, was seen as a commodity by the ton. She was a commodity like any other to be used for status or monetary gain. Morgan was raised with that as a simple fact of life, and of course been schooled in all of the appropriate ladylike pursuits. As a result, she capably ran the household for Jack after their parents’ deaths.

  However, as she was growing up, Jack’s frequent absences often left Morgan to her own devices. She was naturally athletic, and Jack tended to indulge her, as did the servants, partially out of guilt for his being gone. This opened the door to some of Morgan’s more unusual, most would say unladylike, pursuits. She learned to fence, read various languages, and could ride better than most men. She was also particularly adept with a bow and arrow, but those were all the rage with women now at the house parties—as long as one didn’t actually beat any of the men.

  Morgan had done her best to originally present as a proper debutante and do what was expected. Her first season out of mourning earned her many suitors. She also received several offers, none of which she was willing to accept. Jack never pushed her, but Derek was right, the only reason Jack maintained this house and any attempt in society was to support her. She was still expected to marry, but Morgan also believed she would not find anyone here, at least no one who would let her be herself.

  Morgan wished the ton’s disdain of Jack and his extended absences would reflect itself in an absence of invitations now, but money and a title were a combination that kept many doors open. That status, combined with her being undeniably beautiful, often resulted in more attention than she cared to attract. Even her parents’ beliefs in educating all of their children equally did not discourage most of her suitors. Morgan had a better education than some of her brother’s peers. Although those same peers let her know they were not much interested in her opinion or intellect, beyond the weather and latest fashions. They assumed she would conform once wed. Morgan refused to downplay her intelligence or her opinions, especially since most men were interested only in her money, or in aligning themselves with her brother. Men of her station also seemed to want a wife who was meek and demure. Morgan was neither, and she refused to compromise.

  She hadn’t always been so cynical. She hoped, just like other girls, that she would meet a man who would sweep her off her feet. There were plenty of men willing to fill that role, but none respected, or wanted, who she really was. Once, in her second season, she did find someone of potential. Morgan knew she wasn’t one of the pale, porcelain beauties, considered the standard for that season, but he seemed genuinely interested in her, and didn’t seem to mind her exuberance or unusual interests.

  She was furious when Jack forbade her to see him with no explanation, it was one of their few fights. She was unaware of the game being played, and discovered it by accident when she overheard some girls gossiping in the ladies retiring room at a garden party. There was a bet at White’s, one of the more prestigious gentlemen’s clubs, started by none other than the man she thought cared for her. He wagered he could succeed in despoiling her before the end of the Season due to her ‘unusual’ ways. He had no intention of marrying her, and came up with the scheme after Jack refused him as an investor in a shipping venture. It was quite the on dit for the
Season, and she vowed she would never be another man’s pawn.

  Morgan attended those functions she had to, but no others, and took care to present as a proper lady of breeding. Completely ignoring all invitations just wasn’t possible in society. Despite her old age of twenty-two, and reputation as difficult, she continued to have many suitors. But she just couldn’t bring herself to marry someone she didn’t love. Or who didn’t love her.

  Morgan knew Derek alluded to the problems from last season. One suitor, a Lord Montrose, was particularly insistent during another of Jack’s extended absences. Morgan narrowly escaped scandal, and a subsequent marriage, after Montrose tried to lure her into a compromising situation at a musicale. He withdrew his suit only when Jack returned, but the rumors persisted.

  When Jack did arrive home last year, he was noticeably thinner, more withdrawn, and was recovering from a severe injury he said was the result of an accident on one of his ships. But he refused to elaborate. Unfortunately, part of the recovery involved the use of opium to deal with the pain. As was common, Jack became addicted to the opium, and coming out of that was almost worse than the original injury. Without the help of a family friend, Merrick Sinclair, the Earl of Stonewick, she wasn’t sure Jack would have survived.

  After recovering, he threw himself into his business with renewed fervor, Morgan barely saw him. Although his health returned, he remained detached and occupied. He seemed even more driven, completely neglecting all social engagements.

  Jack continued to run his very successful shipping business, and being directly involved in business caused some censure. But none ignored him completely as he had a title, and made several prominent peers a substantial amount of wealth with various shipping ventures.

  But Morgan suspected it was not the shipping business that kept him away for long periods of time, and why his correspondence was so sporadic. She discovered his secret quite by accident.