Falling for a Fiery Lady (Preview)

Chapter One

“Good morning, Miss Moore.”

Isabelle stirred when she heard a voice invade her sleep, and then the sudden noise of the curtains being opened made her jump. Cracking her eyes open, she saw the bright sunlight coming in. It was far too bright. Isabel groaned and pulled the sheets over her head.

“Arnaud, do you have to do that? It’s too bright and too early.”

“It’s not too early. It’s just gone eight in the morning.”

“That’s too early,” Isabelle grumbled. She rolled onto her back and slowly lowered the sheet, getting used to the bright lights now transforming the room. “Would you lay my clothes out? And please don’t talk, Arnaud. You know I hate mornings.”

“Yes, Miss Moore.”

Her maid began to move around the room, selecting and picking out the various garments Isabel was meant to wear. Isabel didn’t think she would be leaving the house, so she didn’t really care what was laid out for her. They weren’t expecting guests. Nobody was going to care what she wore.

Normally, Isabel would be enthusiastic and help her maid find the right dress. But lately, she just had no motivation, no appetite, no lust for life. There was just nothing.

Ever since her father’s death, nothing was bringing any source of enjoyment. Not even the smallest of things.

“Your belongings are ready, Miss Moore.” Arnaud appeared at the side of the bed, her brown hair already falling out of her cap. “Would you like me to ask Cook to prepare a breakfast tray for you?”

“Not today, Arnaud. I’ll try and get downstairs.” Isabel sighed. “Mother would want to see my face and know that I’m alive and well.”

“Lady Dunley will be happy to know you’re joining her for breakfast.” Arnaud nodded at the foot of the bed. “Would you like some help, My Lady?”

“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself.”

“Very well.” Arnaud bobbed a curtsy and walked away. “If you need anything more, just let me know.”

Isabel didn’t reply. She just felt a little uncomfortable with her maid right now. Arnaud was an efficient woman. Very cool and collected and appeared to be very patient with Isabel and her eccentricities. Two years in the service of Viscount Dunley and Arnaud had had to get used to being a part of a family that wasn’t considered conventional. Her family in Brittany had to be in despair.

Isabel didn’t get up immediately. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Not too long ago, she had been one of those people who was up as soon as daylight peeked over the horizon, and she had so much high spirit as she went about her morning chores that it made her mother groan. Lady Dunley wasn’t used to such spritely behaviour at an early hour, even with her daughter. She prepared to take her time and slowly get herself into the mood that would be considered a decent disposition. Isabel had been more like her father, up and going before she had even opened her eyes.

Her father. Isabel felt a stab of pain in her chest as she started thinking about her father again. He had been her inspiration, a person she adored. They had been close, Viscount Dunley appreciating Isabel’s little hobbies and activities. They could talk for hours about the smallest of things that would make her mother confused and sit there with a blank expression. Isabel often didn’t notice the time once she started talking about the new animals she had found on the estate or was looking after in the orangery.

Now that wasn’t going to happen. Not anymore, after Viscount Dunley died when his carriage overturned on a stormy night six months ago. The track had been muddy, and the horses had been slipping. It had taken a random rock in the ground and one of the horses to collapse, and the carriage flipped. Her father had died on impact. So had the driver. The footman, seated on the back, had been thrown clear and was lucky to live with a broken leg and fractured collarbone. He was now recuperating in his room at the top of the house.

Isabel felt cold remembering the moment a soaked and bedraggled man had come to the door and told her and her mother that their father was dead. It hadn’t really sunk in until his body was brought back and placed in his bedchamber, the servants preparing it for the funeral. That was when it slammed into Isabel, and she had gone into hysterics. Her father, her hero, was gone. He was never coming back.

She hadn’t been able to leave her room since without breaking down. Eventually, she had shut herself away from everyone, barely appearing for meals, sparingly, even then. Isabel had tried her best, standing beside her mother at the graveside during the funeral. But even then, while she tried to support her distraught mother, Isabel couldn’t focus. Everything she looked at seemed to remind her of the viscount. She ended up sobbing over the smallest of things and just couldn’t stop once she got started. She had to hide away, keep away from anything that could set her off.

But Isabel knew she couldn’t stay in her bedchamber forever. It wasn’t healthy, and her mother did need her. Majorie Moore, Viscountess Dunley, had been with her husband for twenty years, and they had been a loving couple. Isabel had hoped for marriage in her future much like this, a rare moment where the husband and wife married for love rather than financial gain. Now she felt selfish for hiding herself away and not thinking about her mother.

She needed to make an effort to help her mother.

Finally rolling out of bed, Isabel got herself dressed, managing to tie up her corset on her own and getting it to a state where she could breathe. God, she hated corsets, but her mother had said she needed to wear one and be a little more ladylike. Isabel could certainly do without one.

She took a look at herself in the mirror. Not too bad. A decent, simple lavender dress that functioned well enough, but no gloves. Isabel hated gloves; it was difficult to pick up animals and search for smaller creatures when wearing them. They were only for special occasions, in her mind. Her blonde hair was long, and it was fiddly to put up, so Isabel simply pinned her hair back at the temples to keep it out of her eyes. Again, no one was visiting, so she didn’t need to look perfectly presentable.

With mourning, the family hid away from everyone until their time had ended and they could enter Society again. Six months after her father’s death, Isabel was allowed to come out of mourning, but her mother had another six months. Isabel couldn’t understand why there was a timeline on mourning. You couldn’t turn it on and off just like that. She wouldn’t be able to recover from her father’s death for a long time. Even now, the thought of leaving her room and knowing her father wasn’t there left her shaking.

Taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders, Isabel left her bedchamber. It wasn’t so bad. She went to the stairs and down to the foyer. Again, not too bad, but she was trying hard not to look at the paintings lining the walls. She didn’t want to see a portrait of Viscount Dunley staring down at her.

Lady Dunley was in the morning room, sitting holding a cup of tea with an array of food across two coffee tables. She was looking out into the garden, looking very graceful and serene. Even when she was wearing black. She looked around as her daughter entered, and her face lit up, her eyes sparkling.

“Oh, Isabel, dear! Good morning!”

“Good morning, Mama.” Isabel crossed the room and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Is the breakfast still warm?”

“Yes, it’s just been laid out. I thought as it was just the two of us, we could have it in here.” Lady Dunley patted the space on the settee beside her. “Come and sit with me. I’m glad you decided to come and join me.”

Isabel didn’t reply. She simply smiled and took her seat, reaching for a plate. She knew she needed to eat, but her appetite was not great. Even after six months, she couldn’t find the fortitude to eat properly. Isabel was aware that she had lost a lot of weight lately, but trying to get and keep that food down didn’t help. She would end up wasting away if she didn’t try.

Picking out a few pieces of food, Isabel got herself a fork and began to eat in tiny bites. Everything tasted off, but she made herself eat it. She didn’t want to upset Cook any further. He worked so hard to make sure their food was the best, and both mother and daughter were struggling to eat. Lady Dunley had slowly got her appetite back, but Isabel was still not at a point where she was comfortable getting her food down.

“How’s the food?” Lady Dunley was looking at her keenly. “Is it to your liking? I know you’ve sent your tray back half-eaten lately.”

Isabel winced.

“I take it Cook wasn’t too happy about that.”

“He’s a little upset, but I know he’s fond of you, so he can’t be too upset.” Lady Dunley nibbled a piece of toast. “He’ll be happy to see you downstairs.”

Isabel was silent, munching slowly. She was starting to be able to taste the food. Maybe she would be able to eat dinner later. That had been the meal Isabel had really struggled with. Time had passed by to the point she didn’t know what the time was. Even if the main thing she did was sit on the window seat and stare into the garden.

“Oh, I received a letter from Mr Sidney this morning,” Lady Dunley said as she picked up her teacup. “He said his son has returned from abroad.”

“Richard’s back?”

“Yes. He came back yesterday in the early hours. Gave the butler a surprise when he went to see who had come into the house. He thought someone was trying to steal the silver.”

Isabel giggled.

“I’m sure that was interesting. But I thought Richard wasn’t due back for another week.”

“Apparently, they finished earlier than expected, and so Richard thought he would surprise his family.” Lady Dunley smiled. “Mr Sidney is glad his son is back.”

Isabel was glad that Richard was back. It had been four years since he had left to travel across Europe and explore places that hadn’t been touched before. He had promised to write to her in the meantime, but Isabel hadn’t held much hope in that. Her friend was not good at writing letters and keeping in contact was very difficult. He could get absent-minded.

But Isabel was looking forward to seeing him. Richard Sidney had been a sweet young man, very kind towards her. They had bonded over their love of nature, and Isabel liked to surprise Richard with her newly-found knowledge that she looked up just for him. It was like having a kindred spirit.

She hoped Richard would remember her now. They were neighbours, so she wasn’t far away at all now, but whether Richard would remember to come and visit her was anyone’s guess.

Seeing him would be a way to cheer her up. Isabel needed something to brighten her day. A smile from her childhood friend would certainly help.

#

For a moment, when he opened his eyes, Richard wondered where he was. He wasn’t sure what was going on. Surely, it was hotter than this, there was activity going on outside the window, and there were shouts of the stall workers in the market down the street.

Then he remembered. He wasn’t in Italy, in the townhouse just off the main square. He was at his ancestral home in the middle of the Devon countryside. A stark contrast to what he was used to. It felt strange to have absolute quiet; Richard did feel like he had gone deaf.

He was sure things were going to be very different. Italy, France, Austria, Switzerland … all of those countries had charm, beauty, and so much activity. Richard had not been left bored, always finding something that captured his attention. England had charm and beauty, but there was a lot less interest. After scouring pretty much all the county of Devon and the coast, Richard had wanted to do so much more and see everything.

Four years away from home, and already he wanted to go back.

But he needed to get up and make an appearance with his family. He really needed to make an effort with them. While his father had approved of him going on a tour around Europe, he would want Richard to be back and show his face now and then. Thomas, on the other hand, wouldn’t really care. He didn’t care much about what his younger brother did.

However, Richard couldn’t deny his father anything.

Still yawning and getting used to the fact it was far quieter than what he was used to, Richard washed and dressed, buttoning up his collar when the door opened and his valet Chalmers came in. He stopped in surprise when he saw his master.

“Mr Sidney, I didn’t realize you were up already.”

“I tend to rise early now, Chalmers.” Richard flashed him a smile. “Don’t worry about laying out my clothes. I’ve done it all.”

“I can see.” Chalmers straightened up. “Would you like anything else, sir?”

“Not right now, thank you. I’m practically ready. Would you tell Father that I’m coming down to breakfast shortly?”

“I don’t think he’s up yet, but I can find out.” Chalmers bowed and turned. “I’ll go and let him know.”

His valet left, Richard adjusting his jacket as he checked himself over in the mirror. Not too bad. He hadn’t taken any servants with him on tour, so he had learned to do things for himself. And it wasn’t that difficult. He couldn’t begin to fathom how members of the nobility had no idea how to dress if there wasn’t a servant around. The only fiddly bit was doing up the back of the waistcoat, but that was it.

At least he would be presentable, compared to the other night when he returned. Backley had panicked when he saw two strange men in the house and had attacked them, thinking they were trying to steal the silver. It had taken a few candles and hearing Richard’s voice before he realized the younger son of his master had returned home. A slightly bemusing way to be greeted, but at three in the morning, Richard couldn’t blame him for that. Even if his head was still throbbing from the whack with a cosh. The butler did have a hefty swing on him.

Heading downstairs, Richard entered the dining room and found Nathan Cohen, the only one present, sitting in his usual chair with a plate piled high with food. It looked like he had taken a sweep of everything on the breakfast table. His tutor looked up from the newspaper and beamed when he saw Richard.

“Ah, Richard! I trust you slept well?”

“Very well.” Richard went to the breakfast table and began to make up his plate. “It’s still a little odd waking up and finding it to be quiet. I’m used to the activity happening outside the window.”

“It is something to get used to, yes.” Cohen picked up his coffee cup and took a healthy slurp. “I do miss Venice, but, if I’m honest, it’s good to be home.”

“I agree. Although it might take a while to adjust to the English lifestyle again.”

“We’ve got plenty of time. We don’t need to do anything for a few days except relax, gather our thoughts, and think about where we’re going to go next.”

Richard couldn’t help smiling. His tutor and mentor had been there the whole time. Ever since he was ten years old and Cohen was employed as a tutor for Richard and his brother, the older man had been a constant in his life. The two of them had bonded over their love of the classics and nature, talking about anything and everything until the early hours. Richard’s father hadn’t been impressed to find his eleven-year-old son still awake and talking about Matthew Lewis’ novels at two in the morning.

It helped that Cohen’s enthusiasm was infectious. He took everything in life with such gusto. Whatever he ate, it was the best meal ever. Wherever they went, Cohen embraced the atmosphere and took in his surroundings with minute details. It was refreshing to be with the man as he went everywhere. Richard found himself getting the excitement and joining in. A big difference to his father and brother, who were more restrained and calmer. They preferred a slower, more sedate pace, and it seemed to work well for them. Richard couldn’t do that himself. He needed something to do, always be on the go. His mind needed to be occupied, no sitting around for him unless he had a book in his hands.

There had been lots of it while on their European tour. Richard could count on one hand where he and Cohen just sat there in silence, staring into the fire because they were too exhausted. There had been so much to see and do. Richard had filled three journals with what he had seen. He couldn’t wait to look through them later and soak up the memories.

“So, what are your plans for today?” Cohen asked as Richard sat across from him. “Are you going to be doing some research for our next expedition, or are you going to be reading one of the newest novels that came in last week? Your father said there are some good ones for us to devour.”

“I might go for a walk.” Richard cut into his sausages. “I want to go and see Miss Isabel Moore.”

“Ah, I see. Catch up with an old friend.” Cohen sat back and patted his belly. “Well, I’ll be wallowing around with a fat belly, so give her my regards. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you.”

“I hope so. I didn’t keep in touch as I promised.”

Cohen laughed.

“I still don’t understand how a man who writes practically everything down can’t remember to write letters to a childhood friend. She’s probably forgotten about you by now.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Richard grunted. “That would be my fault.”

He wished he could get himself in some sort of order. Even with his meticulous note-taking, Richard was forgetful in a lot of things. That included keeping in contact with those he cared about. His father had scolded him for not writing as much as he should, but he was just happy to see his son home. Isabel was probably going to slap him for not writing to her in four years.

Richard wouldn’t blame her, but he was looking forward to seeing her. Hopefully, he would get a warm greeting before Isabel slapped him. There was never any malice or anger in Isabel Moore. She was the person who just took everything in her stride.

She would have loved Europe. But she had been sixteen when Richard left, and travelling with an unmarried noblewoman would have caused an uproar. Isabel had expressed her desire to go with him, that she wanted to see Europe, but they both knew that wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t fair because Isabel would have been a great travelling companion. She shared their enthusiasm for everything.

Richard was looking forward to inviting Isabel over for many conversations about his travels. Isabel would be an avid listener.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and Richard looked to see his brother’s tall, lean frame enter the room. Thomas Sidney arched an eyebrow at Richard.

“Oh, you’re awake already.”

“I’m now an early riser.”

“Oh, really?” Thomas went to his chair and sat down, signalling at the nearby footman. “Get a plate for me, Sanders. And make sure you put a bit of everything on. I’m starving.”

Richard exchanged a look with Cohen. They were gentry, lucky enough to have servants, but both brothers had been raised to acknowledge the household staff was a privilege that could easily disappear if something happened to their stocks and their father’s shipping business in Torquay. Richard had learned a long time ago how to be self-sufficient and ask for very little from the servants. He had learned that even more while travelling with just Cohen as his companion. From the look of it, Thomas seemed to be taking advantage. He was acting like a member of the nobility.

They were never going to get there, even if there was some sort of miracle. Richard understood that. Thomas’ attitude about furthering themselves didn’t seem to have come back down to earth.

“I heard you on the way down,” Thomas said as his breakfast was placed in front of him. “You were talking about another expedition. When you’ve just got back?”

“Of course.” Richard put scrambled egg onto the piece of sausage he had cut and munched on it. “We’re not going to be sitting still for long. We really need to think forward to the next one.”

“And who’s going to fund that?”

“What’s that got to do with you?”

Thomas frowned.

“Father put forward a lot of money towards your last tour, and he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to make that money back. He’s only just done that, so don’t expect him to fund anything else.”

Cohen chuckled, tucking into his sausages.

“You don’t need to fret yourself over that, Mr Thomas. We didn’t ask your father for help this time, and we won’t be asking again. If he wants to put money towards our next expedition, that’s up to him.”

Thomas didn’t look happy with that response. He sniffed and beckoned Sanders back over.

“Coffee, Sanders. Strong.” He shook his head as he looked over at Richard. “Honestly, Richard, why do you have to go through this? Why don’t you just get yourself a job and work closer to home? You can’t go gallivanting around all your life.”

“I’m not gallivanting. I’m recording.”

“And taking people’s money.”

Richard sighed. Thomas had never understood. He did his studies, and then he was more interested in his sports. He loved to ride horses, go to the races, and he was involved in many other activities that meant using some sporting prowess. Each to their own, and Richard didn’t begrudge him that. But he was annoyed that Thomas tried to put him down all the time. It was annoying.

His father supported him, so why couldn’t Thomas.

“Why don’t you go into the army?” Thomas asked

“The army?”

“Yes. They go abroad, and you can travel all over the place. And you don’t need to go begging for money to do it.”

Richard frowned.

“One, we don’t go begging for money. Two, the war is over, so there are no British troops in Europe anymore. And three, I’m possibly the worst choice as a soldier. I don’t do violence.”

“Neither do half the men who go into the army and navy, but they still go.” Thomas speared a piece of mushroom with his fork. “It’s just a thought to consider. Perhaps you could join the army going to America. Or even Australia.”

“There are no wars being fought in America or Australia,” Cohen pointed out. “The war with America was over years ago.”

Thomas shrugged.

“It’s just a thought. It would stop Father spending money where he doesn’t need to.”

“You mean he needs to have the money to spend on your sporting events,” Richard said slyly. “That’s more important, isn’t it?”

Thomas’ cheeks reddened. He huffed and started attacking his breakfast with a ferocity that made Richard wonder if the plate was going to break. He exchanged a wry look with Cohen, who shook his head with a smile and went back to his newspaper.

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“Falling for a Fiery Lady” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Isabel Moore has never been a conventional lady. Instead of dreaming of passionate love, she scavenges for bugs and helps animals. Absorbed in her own world, she has never noticed her friend, Richard, gazing at her with lustful eyes. Though he secretly wishes to have Isabel as his wife, the prospect of marriage has never been on the horizon for her. However, her life will turn upside down when her mother announces that if she does not find a husband within one season, she will go into service.

Will Isabel be able to master the art of erotic seduction and capture the attention of a wicked Duke?

Isabel held a special place in Richard Sidney’s heart since they were teenagers. Despite his strong desire for her fiery, yet strange personality, he has never voiced those feelings. When her season starts, he cannot help but notice how much she has changed. As Richard watches the girl who set his heart on fire becoming engaged to a Duke who is clearly not her match, he begins to fear…

Will he find the courage to reveal his burning passion and convince Isabel to reconsider her decision?

After so many years of friendship, Richard and Isabel will realise they do not know each other as well as they thought. Therefore, their undeniable lust for each other could easily destroy their lives… Will Richard prove himself capable of conquering her fierce heart? Or will Isabel turn her back on Richard’s tempting charm and opt for a marriage of convenience?

“Falling for a Fiery Lady” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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