Resisting the Roguish Captain (Brides for Sworn Bachelors #2)

Chapter One

Another party. Another potential husband. Such was her life.

Twirling a lock of hair around her index finger, a habit that greatly irritated her older sisters, Meridith Downs let out a sigh, confirmation that she was indeed bored stiff.

How could she not be? Staring at the lawn of her brother’s London house, where she too lived, was hardly exciting. Nothing about her life was exciting.

Her sister-in-law, Alena, the Duchess of Chesterfield, thought nothing was more enjoyable than an afternoon lawn party.

Of course, her brother, Peter, the Duke of Chesterfield, had other reasons for agreeing to the events, and those reasons involved her, his youngest sister.

He was set on finding Meridith a husband.

That was no secret. All of her siblings had but one goal in mind when it came to her. Get her married off. What else were they do to with the baby of the family?

That was how they referred to her. Meridith, the baby of the family. It wasn’t as if she had a choice as to when to be born. It hadn’t been her choice to be born a good nine years after Daniel, ten after Webster, eleven after Janine, thirteen after Diana or fourteen after Peter.

If she had had a say in it, she would have chosen to be born years before she had been.

That way she would remember their mother.

A child of two years didn’t form many memories.

They remembered how to walk and talk, feed themselves and where to relieve themselves, as well as numerous other lifelong skills learned in those early years, but not people.

Not the mother who had given birth to them, fed them, taught them their first words.

Mummy had been Meridith’s first word—another thing her siblings liked to say about her. Her second word had been Papa.

Meridith released another long sigh and stopped twirling her hair.

Instead, she rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, which pressed her elbow deeper into the arm of the white wicker chair she sat in on the side porch of Peter’s house.

Her vantage point allowed her to survey the garden party.

The ladies were all wearing dresses covered with ruffles and lace and carrying parasols to protect them from the sun.

The men looked more comfortable in their trousers, shirts, and waistcoats.

Many of them had removed their frock coats, again due to the sunshine.

It was a warm day. Could almost be considered hot.

Meridith was certainly hot. Even though she was sitting in the shade.

It could be blamed on her corset, tightly laced over her chemisette, or her abundant petticoats, all of which were covered with a blue-and-white dress that had just as many ruffles and layers of lace as those on the women mingling about in the yard.

She had a parasol, too, leaning against her chair.

It was white and blue, with lace around the edges to match her dress.

Her sister Janine wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her older sisters never failed to explain that as the youngest sister of the Duke of Chesterfield, Meridith had to wear the latest fashions, regardless of her comfort, and smile.

Smile at everyone, whether she felt like it or not, because she was no longer a young girl who could traipse about as she pleased.

She had liked being that girl. That girl had never been bored. She had liked being the youngest, the baby, when her father had called her those things. He’d often referred to her as his baby girl.

Life had been good then. Meridith could remember her father, remember her life then, because she’d been fourteen when he died. Six years ago. A very long six years ago.

Peter, Diana, and Janine had all been married to their respective spouses before their father had died, and Webster had gotten married to Marlene shortly thereafter.

Daniel had married Caroline while Meridith had been away.

In Bath, at Miss Ada’s Finishing School for Young Ladies.

What else were her siblings supposed to do with her, except to send her away?

To a place where she’d been expected to learn proper behavior for young ladies.

For four years she’d been dedicated to learning the rules of good breeding.

That wasn’t true: she hadn’t been dedicated.

Miss Ada’s instructors had been dedicated to teaching an extensive list of the rules of good breeding.

Meridith had been dedicated to the calendar, crossing off the days, weeks, months, and years that slowly passed by until the day she could finally come back home.

A home that was completely different from the one she had left.

Her father had never insisted on garden parties.

If she wanted to eat outside on the lawn, he’d call it a picnic.

Sitting on a large tablecloth spread out on the grass and holding their plates in their laps, he’d tell her about when he’d been young and his father had built this house.

Well, his father hadn’t built it. He’d had workers actually build it, because their family business was shipping.

Peter oversaw the family shipping company now, and both Webster and Daniel worked for the shipping company, while her sisters were busy raising their children and being socially acceptable.

That left just her, the baby of the family, with very little to occupy her—except for doing as she was told.

Letting out another sigh, she drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair.

Her father had explained how this was one of the first homes built in The Regent’s Park.

The plan had been to build over fifty massive homes, with idyllic lawns and landscaping rather than the close-fitted townhomes in most neighborhoods, but only ten such homes had actually been built.

Because of the cost. That was what her father had said.

Being within a few miles of Buckingham Palace, the land was costly, and though many wanted it, few could actually afford it.

The designers had even created a new branch of the Grand Union Canal to run along the north end of the park and named it the Regent’s Canal.

They’d built the beautiful Avenue Gardens, too, a place she loved to visit.

The blooming flowers and trees, the tiered fountains, the sculpted evergreen hedges, and of course, the Lion Vase, a large stone bowl supported by winged lions also carved from stone.

The winged lions were Meridith’s favourite. They were mystical. An insight into an artist’s wild imagination—a demonstration of what could be when a person’s dreams were unfettered.

Back when the investors had determined that individuals were not going to purchase properties to build massive homes as they’d hoped, they had sold a large section to the Royal Zoological Society, who had eventually opened the London Zoo to the public, another place she enjoyed visiting.

Volunteering at the zoo was one thing that her brother allowed her to do, and she was very grateful for that, because it helped her remember not just her father, but also her mother through stories she’d been told.

Her father had said that her mother had enjoyed being at this house more than she had their country estate, Chesterfield, because of the zoo.

He had liked this house better than Chesterfield, too.

He called this place the Park House, and he’d let Meridith climb trees, play hide-and-seek in the hedges, and on hot days such as this, he would take her to the park and let her splash in the water of the boat lake.

When she got older, he’d taught her how to swim in that lake in the summer and how to ice-skate on it in the winter.

Her father had provided her with other adventures, too. Imaginative ones. He’d tell her where the animals at the zoo had originated from, and they’d look those places up in books. Places he had visited when he’d been young and sailed the seas. Back then, she had dreamt of visiting those places.

Now, knowing that would never happen, she took solace in visiting the animals regularly.

Her musing was interrupted by the screech of the screen door being opened then the thump as it closed. Meridith held her breath, knowing one of her siblings, or sisters-in-law, had found her.

In other words, it was time to meet the latest man they’d chosen for her.

She had no choice but to meet the person.

Not only would her siblings require it, she had promised her father to be good, to mind her siblings.

He’d been sick, dying, and at fourteen, she’d been old enough to know that he’d been worried about her.

It had been just the two of them for so long, and he’d wanted her to know that she wouldn’t be alone when he died.

That her siblings would take care of her.

Twisting about, Meridith found that it was Janine who’d found her. Sister number two. Diana was sister number one, simply because she was older than Janine.

‘You were twirling your hair again,’ Janine said. ‘You’ve twirled the curl right out of it.’

‘I’ll go have Clara fix it,’ Meridith said.

Clara was one of Alena’s—the duchess of Chesterfield—lady’s maids, who was quite skillful with a curling wand.

A necessity, because Meridith’s hair was normally as straight as a board.

Even after being braided all night, a single stroke of a hairbrush turned it straight again.

It didn’t like being ratted, either, or pinned.

And it was brown. A dull brown. Her sisters often pointed out the failures of her hair compared to their locks of blond curls, stating she had hair like Webster and Daniel, who took after their father, whereas the older three siblings all looked like their mother.

Try as Meridith might, there was simply nothing about her that was up to their standards.

‘No, just— Here.’ Janine firmly tucked the hair, which had once been curled, behind both of Meridith’s ears. ‘That will have to do. Peter needs another player for croquet.’