The Mysterious Miss Fairchild

An accomplished beauty…

But a most unsuitable match!

Natalya Fairchild can’t help but be drawn to Tristan Quintrell, Lord Dalmorren, with his effortless charisma, even if he’s not her intended bridegroom. Tristan is an eligible society catch…whereas Natalya’s unknown heritage could label her ruined. As Tristan helps Natalya investigate her mysterious past, she starts to hope the truth of her conception won’t destroy her prospects…of a life with Tristan!

SARAH MALLORY grew up in the West Country, England, telling stories. She moved to Yorkshire with her young family, but after nearly thirty years of living in a farmhouse on the Pennines she has now moved to live by the sea in Scotland. Sarah is an award-winning novelist, with more than twenty books published by Mills & Boon Historical. She loves to hear from readers and you can reach her via her website at: sarahmallory.com.

Also by Sarah Mallory

The Duke’s Secret Heir

Pursued for the Viscount’s Vengeance

His Countess for a Week

The Infamous Arrandales miniseries

The Chaperon’s Seduction

Temptation of a Governess

Return of the Runaway

The Outcast’s Redemption

Saved from Disgrace miniseries

The Ton’s Most Notorious Rake

Beauty and the Brooding Lord

The Highborn Housekeeper

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

The Mysterious Miss Fairchild

Sarah Mallory

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90143-1

THE MYSTERIOUS MISS FAIRCHILD

© 2020 Sarah Mallory

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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For my family. All of them. Wherever they are.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Extract

About the Publisher

Chapter One

‘Tristan, I want to take a wife!’

Tristan Quintrell, Lord Dalmorren, paused a moment before replying to the young man standing on the other side of the desk.

‘Well, that has surprised me,’ he said at last. ‘I knew you wanted something, Freddie, but I thought you needed me to bail you out.’

‘Good God, no!’ Young Mr Erwin looked aggrieved at the suggestion. ‘I ain’t always in dun territory, you know.’

‘Forgive me,’ murmured his host drily, ‘but it has been the reason for all your other visits to Dalmorren this past year.’

The young man flushed slightly. ‘Well, a fellow has to kick up a bit of a dust when he is first on the town, you know. And besides, you told me to come to you rather than Mama if I needed funds. But that’s not why I am here, Tristan. I am in love!’

This statement, delivered in ecstatic accents, did not impress his host. It was on the tip of Tristan’s tongue to retort that, having not yet reached one-and-twenty, Freddie would fall in and out of love a dozen times before settling down, but he held back. The glowing look in the young man’s eyes and his beatific smile persuaded him that Freddie was well and truly smitten.

A mere eight years separated the two men. Freddie was the son of Tristan’s sister. She was sixteen years older than he and his only remaining sibling, the others having failed to survive beyond the nursery years. Her late spouse had taken the precaution of making his brother-in-law joint guardian of his only child. Tristan had barely reached his majority when his own father died and that circumstance, together with the responsibility for his widowed sister and her son three years later, had weighed heavily upon the young Lord Dalmorren, giving him a maturity well beyond his years. He therefore did not mock Freddie for his infatuation. Instead he got up from his desk and walked across his study to the side table, where he poured two glasses of Madeira.

‘Here.’ He handed one to Freddie. ‘I think you had best sit down and tell me all about it.’

The boy needed no second bidding. He pulled a chair close to the desk and sat down, saying eagerly, ‘We met in Bath, in February. Do you recall I told you I was going there with Gore Conyer? His family lives there. I never expected to like the place above half, but then I saw Her.’

‘And does the lady have a name?’

Freddie put down his glass and clasped his hands together. He said ecstatically. ‘Miss Fairchild, but she allows me to call her Lya!’

‘Leah, the name of Jacob’s wife, in the Bible?’ Tristan raised an eyebrow and said drily, ‘I believe that means weary, in Hebrew.’

Freddie shook his head, saying impatiently, ‘No, no, that’s not it at all. Quite absurd. Her name is Natalya, but those close to her use the shortened form.’ His face relaxed into another blissful smile. ‘Lya.’

With a great effort of will Tristan forbore to tease him. ‘You had best tell me where it was you first saw the lady.’

‘It was just as we were leaving the theatre. Gore’s parents had hired a box for us to see Macbeth. I am not a lover of Shakespeare, but it would have been churlish not to go. At the end, Gore and I waited in the foyer for Mr and Mrs Conyer to join us. They know everyone in Bath, you see, and it took them an age to make their way to the door. But that’s by the bye! I happened to look round and there she was, making her way out of the theatre with an old lady wearing the most outmoded fashions!’

He noted Tristan’s look of surprise and laughed. ‘No, it wasn’t Natalya in the odd clothes. She was looking very elegant in cream muslin, but her companion was dressed in the most shocking bright green creation and a headpiece bedecked with any number of feathers and ribbons. That’s what attracted my attention, to begin with, until I saw Miss Fairchild. Our eyes met and…that was it. I knew I was in love—’ He broke off and gave a loud sigh. ‘Oh, Tristan, if you could only have been there.’

‘I am glad I was not,’ retorted his uncle, grimacing. ‘I think I might have been very unwell!’

Freddie waved this aside. ‘I mean I wish you could have seen her. Then you would understand. She is the most beautiful creature! Face and figure quite perfect. Dark hair, coal-black eyes, an ivory complexion—exquisite!’

‘So what did you do?’

‘What could I do? I touched my hat as she went past.’

‘You disappoint me. I thought you would have immediately stepped up and demanded an introduction.’

‘If only I could have done so! Good God, Tris, I am not so lost to all good manners, you know. As it happens, it was a good thing I didn’t jump in. Mrs Conyer told me the old lady is Mrs Ancrum, one of Bath’s most respected residents and a stickler for propriety. Fortunately, the Conyers are acquainted with her and they presented me when we…er…happened to meet in the Pump Room.’

Tristan felt a smile tugging at his lips. ‘Goodness me. Shakespeare, the Pump Room—you grow old before your time, Nevvy.’

Freddie grinned. ‘I am merely getting in practice for when I have to take you there, my aged guardian! But enough funning.’ He put down his empty glass and leaned forward, fixing Tristan with his trusting blue eyes. ‘Tris, I am serious about this, I want to make her an offer, but I need to make sure I have your permission, first.’

‘And your mother’s agreement. She is your guardian, too, remember.’

‘Yes, yes, but Mama will not be a problem. She would never deny me my happiness. But that is not the only thing, I do not gain control of my inheritance until I reach five-and-twenty, so, until that time, I shall need an increase in my allowance, if I am to set up my own establishment.’

‘Naturally,’ murmured Tristan. ‘What do we know of Miss Fairchild, save that she is the most beautiful female you have ever clapped eyes on? What relation is she to this Mrs Ancrum?’

‘None. Natalya is an orphan. She lives in Sydney Place with her aunt and uncle. Mr and Mrs Pridham. They live very quietly, but they are perfectly respectable. And you are not to be thinking they have been putting Natalya in my way. Quite the opposite, in fact. She is closely chaperoned whenever she goes abroad, at balls she is permitted no more than two dances with any gentleman, and whenever I have called at the house Mrs Pridham ensures we are never alone. They never give one the least encouragement.’ His cheerful, open countenance clouded slightly. ‘To be frank, they are downright discouraging! That is why I want to make sure I have your blessing before I proceed.’

‘And have you mentioned it to your mother?’

‘Not yet. She has been in London with Grandmama, did you know?’

‘Yes. She wrote to tell me she had watched the procession of King Louis from Hyde Park to Grillon’s.’ Tristan’s mouth turned down. ‘I have no doubt the crowds will be even worse when the rest of the Allied Sovereigns arrive in June.’

Freddie waved this aside as an irrelevance. ‘She should be back at Frimley any day now, so I am on my way there to see her.’ He gave Tristan a boyish smile. ‘I thought I would stop off first and talk to you. I know that if you do not object, Mama will be happy.’

‘And how long do you plan to remain at Frimley?’

‘Oh, a week, perhaps two.’ He added, shyly, ‘I thought, when I return to Bath, I might take with me an invitation from Mama for Natalya to visit her at Frimley.’

‘I see.’

Tristan sat back and sipped his wine, digesting all he had heard. He was loath to dash Freddie’s hopes, but he was sure that his sister Katherine would be aghast at the idea of her only son taking a bride about whom they knew nothing.

He said, ‘I think it behoves us to find out a little more about the lady before you ask my sister for her blessing.’

‘Pridham is a gentleman and Lya is accepted everywhere in Bath. I cannot see that anything else is important.’

‘You might not, but you may be damned sure your mother will! What do you know of Miss Fairchild’s parents, or her fortune?’

Freddie jumped to his feet, a mutinous look on his face.

‘Are you forbidding the banns, Tristan? Because, by heaven, if you are—’

‘Oh, sit down, you young hothead, I am not forbidding anything, but your mother will need to be reassured before she will give her permission to your forming an attachment at your age.’

‘But she will come around to it, once she knows Natalya.’

‘I am sure she will, but in the meantime, she could make things very uncomfortable for the lady.’

‘Aye, so she could. Hell and damnation, Tristan, I have already written to Mama and told her I am coming to stay!’

‘Well, that need not change. She will be delighted to see you, I am sure. Only do not mention Miss Fairchild. At least not until I have made a few enquiries of my own.’

‘Oh?’ Freddie looked suspicious. ‘How are you going to do that?’

‘By going to Bath, what else?’ Tristan grinned. ‘At my advanced age, it might benefit me to…er…take the waters.’

‘Oh, oh, devil take it!’

The pianoforte resounded with an inharmonious discord as Natalya slammed her fingers down upon the keys. It expressed her mood perfectly, but she felt guilty for her outburst and immediately glanced around to make sure she was alone.

She took a deep breath. There was no point in taking her frustration out on the poor instrument. The piece was well within her ability, but she had not touched the pianoforte all week, that was the simple truth. She was tired of spending her time at her studies when other young ladies were out riding and walking and sallying forth for picnics. True, very few of her aunt and uncle’s acquaintances invited her to join such outings—with the exception of the Grishams, most families in Bath kept their distance—but even when she was invited, the Pridhams often refused, saying her studies were more important. Why, it was only this year that she had been allowed to attend the balls at the Assembly Rooms!

Uncle Pridham had assured her everything would change in June, when she reached one-and-twenty, but until then the strict regime of study must be maintained. She could hardly refuse to see the tutors employed by her uncle, but she could spend her time reading or sketching rather than practising at the pianoforte. It was a tiny act of rebellion and she was not particularly proud of it. She was grateful for her aunt and uncle’s efforts on her behalf, but sometimes she wished they would not try quite so hard.

There was a knock at the door and the music teacher was shown in. Natalya turned to him with an apologetic smile.

‘I fear you are going to be very disappointed with me this week, Mr Spark…’

Later, at the Assembly Rooms, Natalya sought out her friend Miss Grisham, a lively redhead in a gown of lemon muslin. She sat down beside her with an exaggerated sigh.

‘I am late, Jane, I know it. Pray do not scold me, I have had the…the devil of a day. Aggie is at outs with me because I tore my new muslin gown and forgot to tell her and there is nothing more uncomfortable than a maid’s sulks, you know. Then I had to endure two hours of Italian conversation and, to cap it all, Mr Spark read me a lecture because I had not perfected Mr Handel’s Sarabande.’

‘Much you care for that,’ replied her friend, smiling. ‘But what was it you said about Italian, Lya—has Mr Pridham managed to find you a new teacher?’

‘Yes, we had our first lesson this morning. Although I wonder my uncle should put himself to the trouble. It is little more than a month now until I come of age and he knows I intend to give up my studies then.’

‘And is he young and handsome, this new teacher?’ Jane asked her.

‘He is neither of those things.’ Natalya shuddered. ‘He is very short and very dark, with lascivious eyes and a wet mouth. I fear, if he had the opportunity, the signor would try to make love to me and I should be obliged to stab him with my hatpin. Thankfully, my aunt insists I am never alone with any member of the male sex.’ She giggled. ‘I know I have complained about that in the past, but in this instance, I am extremely grateful.’

‘And so you should be, Lya,’ replied her friend. ‘The Pridhams take extremely good care of you, you know.’

‘Yes, I do know. I am aware how fortunate I am to have such caring guardians, but it is all so, so stifling!’ She sighed. ‘I only wish I knew what they mean by it all.’

‘To keep you safe, of course. To protect your reputation and wrap you in a positive cloud of respectability in order that you can make a most advantageous marriage!’

Natalya shook her head, all desire to laugh gone. ‘I do not think that can be the case. Else why did they discourage Lord Austwick from making me an offer? He is as rich as Croesus and an earl to boot. And why am I to have all these extra lessons? Music, French and Italian. Russian history, to say nothing of the geometry and philosophy and all the other things I studied while at school! No woman is educated to this level merely to become a wife!’

Jane thought that a very good joke and she said nothing more, knowing her friend would be scandalised if she knew Natalya was in earnest. The disadvantage of receiving such an extensive education was that one learned a great many things that were usually kept hidden from young ladies. At school, Natalya’s tutors had been happy to feed her voracious reading habits, with the result that she knew a great deal more about the ways of the world, including the fact that many otherwise respectable gentlemen had liaisons with women other than their wives.

Marriage was a commercial matter; mistresses were for enjoyment. Many men set up a mistress and kept her in luxury, merely to amuse and entertain them. At the select and very expensive educational establishment where she had spent her childhood, several girls were openly acknowledged as the children of one or more noble parents, but born out of wedlock.

Natalya suspected she was the product of such a liaison, even though no one had ever spoken of it. With the happy optimism of youth, she had not thought too deeply about it, until the past two years, when she had begun to attend balls and assemblies.

‘You must learn how to go on in society,’ Mr Pridham had told her. ‘You need to know how to dance and converse and to be at ease in company.’

And she had learned. She enjoyed the company and the dancing, but it was not long before she realised she was different. She became painfully aware that, with the exception of elderly Mrs Ancrum and the Grishams, she was tolerated, rather than widely accepted by the high sticklers of Bath society. That did not discompose her, neither did the lack of friends worry her, for she was far too busy to feel lonely, but whereas most chaperons actively encouraged their charges to attract the attentions of eligible gentlemen, the Pridhams went out of their way to keep potential suitors at bay. She wondered why that should be and just what her aunt and uncle had planned for her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Mrs Grisham came up to them in a rustle of silken skirts.

‘Now, now, girls, what are you doing, sitting here with your heads together? That is no way to attract dancing partners! Jane, here is Mr Carrey come to beg the pleasure of your company for the next dance.’ She gestured to the young man beside her, who flushed slightly.

‘Yes, indeed, Miss Grisham, if you would do me the honour?’

‘Off you go now, Jane, and I shall sit here and keep Miss Fairchild company.’ With a good-natured laugh she took her daughter’s place beside Natalya and patted her hand. ‘Well, well, my dear, ’tis a sad crush in here tonight, and no mistake, but if you sit up straight, my dear, and smile, I am sure you will not have to wait long for a partner. I do not know what Alice Pridham is doing, letting you skulk in a corner like this.’

‘My aunt is with her friends, ma’am, and I slipped away to talk to Jane.’

Mrs Grisham tutted. ‘That is no way to get yourself noticed.’

‘Really, ma’am, I am very happy to sit here.’

‘Nonsense. A young thing like you should be on the dance floor and giving us the pleasure of seeing you tripping about!’ She glanced up and ended with a note of satisfaction, ‘And we shall not have to wait much longer for that pleasure, I fancy!’

Mr Pridham was approaching, accompanied by a stranger whose appearance was drawing admiring glances from the ladies as he crossed the room. If the gentleman was aware of the stir he was creating, he showed no sign of it. His style was not flamboyant, but he had an understated elegance, from his light brown hair, cut fashionably short and gleaming in the candlelight, to the toes of his dancing shoes. Natalya could find no fault with his appearance. His dark coat fitted without a crease across his broad shoulders, the white waistcoat was buttoned smoothly over his flat stomach while tight breeches and silk stockings clung to long, powerful legs.

Closer inspection showed his lean countenance was undeniably handsome but he was not smiling and his dark brows were drawn together, as if he was here for duty rather than pleasure. Natalya noticed, too, that her uncle was behaving oddly. Never a genial man, he was decidedly ill at ease as he performed the introductions.

‘Natalya, my dear. Lord Dalmorren is wishful to dance with you.’

Dalmorren. She had heard the name before, but where? She looked again at his countenance. He looked familiar, but it was a fleeting impression and she dismissed it as a mere fancy.

The gentleman bowed. ‘I would be honoured if you would stand up with me, Miss Fairchild.’

Natalya thought his satin waistcoat and the intricately tied cravat hinted at a man of fashion. A man of ease and pleasure. Yet his voice was as serious as his demeanour and she could read nothing from his hard, slate-grey eyes. She was even more intrigued.

With a faint smile of acceptance, she rose and placed her fingers on his proffered arm. The fine wool sleeve was soft as silk to the touch, but beneath she was aware of iron hard muscle. Perhaps he was a sportsman, more at home in the saddle than the ballroom. That might account for his rather cold manner. However, when they began to dance, his lithe grace sent a frisson of pleasure running through her and Natalya’s heart gave a little skip. She spent most of her time dancing with awkward young men or elderly friends of the Pridhams. It was pleasant, for once, to have such an accomplished partner. Her curiosity in the man grew.