Saturday 3 December 2022

FLEETING ENCOUNTERS: Lady Francesca - Arabella Sheen - Excerpt One

  



Fleeting Encounters:

Lady Francesca

  

Arabella Sheen


Fleeting Encounters Series … offers erotic bedtime reading

Dare Lady Francesca Chapel bed down with her steward?

Lady Francesca has been recently widowed. And at the reading of the will, when it’s revealed her husband has gambled away the family fortune and her sizable dowry, she realizes she must find a way to save Chapel Grange, her son’s inheritance before it is lost. Penniless and desperate to survive, is Alexander the answer to Francesca’s problem?

With the turn of a card, Alexander Milton has won a parcel of land from Lord Chapel. The trouble is, he doesn’t want the Chapel estate, and more to the point, he doesn’t need it. When it’s suggested he approach the widow with an offer to form a working partnership in order to save Chapel Grange, he soon discovers he wants to merge with Lady Francesca in more ways than one.

Can Francesca and Alexander work together, or will their passion for one another stand in their way?

Content Warning: Contains erotic love scenes


CHAPTER  ONE - Excerpt 1

Lady Francesca Chapel was dressed from head to foot in black. Lifting a handkerchief trimmed with black lace to her eyes, she carefully dabbed the falling tears away from her cheeks. She felt sorry for herself. Not because she mourned the loss of her husband whom she had recently buried, but because she now had to face the world alone.

Before her marriage, Francesca had been cossetted and cared for. Firstly, by her parents, who had provided for her physical and earthly needs, and then secondly, by a series of governesses, all with varying skills in the art of enabling a young lady to take her place in society. Francesca had been educated with the talents required to ensnare an eligible spouse. And then her life had changed. She had married Lord Charles Chapel and her idyllic world had altered beyond recognition.

Charles had been a hard man to please, both in and out of the bedchamber. And as a husband…well, he hadn’t been cruel exactly, merely unthinkingly neglectful.

Often, for months at a time, Francesca had been left alone at Chapel Grange to fill her days with idleness while Charles, free to come and go as he pleased, had traveled to London to follow his pleasures and deborturous pursuits.

It had annoyed Francesca that her days and evenings were lonely, but she hadn’t complained. However, her solitary nights were another matter. She’d been thankful for Charles’s prolonged absences. The chance to crawl into bed and curl beneath the sheets to sleep alone had been most welcome.

“If you would care to be seated, Lady Francesca.” Mr. Adams, the family’s lawyer handling the affairs of the estate, pointed toward a chair positioned at one end of the long drawing room table. “We shall begin the reading of the will as soon as your son, Lord Chapel, joins us.”

Francesca, if she was honest with herself, was a little intimidated by the lawyer’s manner. He was overbearing and was quite crotchety at times.

Like many of the family retainers her husband had employed, Mr. Adams was of senior years and set in his ways. But Francesca hoped to change things. Depending on the outcome of the will, she wanted to make improvements to how things were run at Chapel Grange…if only she dared.

Looking around, she noticed the room was full of strangers all dressed in dark, sobering black. A few faces were familiar, but most of the people she assumed were distant relatives that she’d never met.

Even though Charles had been head of the family, he’d never mixed with his kinfolk, yet since his death, members of the Chapel dynasty were crawling from the woodwork with the sole intention of latching on to anything and everything that remained of Charles—namely his wealth.

“Mr. Adams, is it really necessary to have Theo here with us when the will is read?” Francesca sat and rested her trembling hands in her lap. She hoped no one would notice her nervousness. “He’s so young and is still grieving the loss of his father.”

“My lady, I’m afraid it’s advisable that he does so. If Master Theo…” Mr. Adams coughed, adjusted his cravat, and continued. “Forgive me, I had meant to say Lord Chapel. If Lord Theodor Chapel should have questions concerning his inheritance or any entitlements from his father’s estate, I shall be on hand to answer them. He will soon be of an age to manage his own affairs and will need to know how to proceed.

“But my son is only seventeen and―” Francesca fell silent when she caught sight of Theo.

Her son was standing in the doorway, listening. He looked pale and anxious, and she wondered what was playing on his mind. Was he, like her, concerned about their uncertain future at Chapel Grange?

Catching Theo’s attention, Mr. Adams signaled for Theo to take the vacant chair at the head of the table. He then seated himself and gestured for the others to follow suit.

Everyone waited with strained anticipation for the reading of the will to begin, and when Mr. Adams withdrew several documents from a folder and laid them with great aplomb on the table, the room fell silent. The atmosphere was tense.

The graveness of the occasion was upon them, but none, including Francesca, was prepared for the outcome.

Mr. Adams spoke with solemn gravity as he read the will. And those who heard it were in shock.

“Having read the will and told you of the late Lord Chapel’s wishes, it is now my duty to inform everyone that having paid off some of his lordship’s gaming debts, there is nothing remaining in his lordship’s banking accounts.” Mr. Adams paused and glanced around the room. He appeared to be waiting for a reaction, and he got one. There was a ripple of muffled astonishment and discontent murmured by several. “What little that remains of the estate and its lands are to be passed to his son, Lord Theodor Chapel. Lady Francesca, if she consents, is to act as trustee and administrator of the estate until his lordship comes of age.”

A silence fell as a realization of the situation sank in.

It seemed Charles had gambled away all his land and monies, and also Francesca’s sizable dowry. The only things remaining for Theodor to inherit were the hereditary title, the house itself, and a few acres of land that surrounded the property.

Not even the farms with tenant incomes had been saved. They had vanished amid the mounting payments for wagering debts, along with the estate’s woodland and meadow pastures.

“Thank you, Mr. Adams,” Francesca said with all the dignity she could muster. “We are most obliged to you for coming here and telling us how things stand. I’m sure―”

“This cannot be all we are to hear, Francesca. You cannot dismiss this matter out of hand.” The protest came from Mr. George Stanley, Charles’s cousin by marriage. “You must ask Mr. Adams to provide proof that Charles has indeed left nothing for any of us in his will. There must be an error. Charles was wealthy. He had money to spare. Why, whenever he stayed at his club in London, he always visited the gaming tables and seemed sufficiently plump in the pocket. Always had the ready to hand.”

“George, please. Let us not talk of this now,” Francesca pleaded. “Not while Theo is with us.”

George shrugged. “The boy has to learn what his father was really like sometime. He has to discover Charles’s true character. Your husband was a gambler and a ne’er-do-well, and everyone knew it. But even though, on some occasions he sailed close to the wind, more than once he hinted that he was going to leave my wife, and of course, myself, well provided for in his will. I never once thought he would die short of funds.”

“My father was not a waster, nor was he a good-for-nothing.” Theo was enraged. He stood, and as he did, the chair he’d been sitting on flipped back and landed sideward on the floor. “Sir, if you persist in maligning my father’s name, I will have to call you out…or give you a corker.”

Francesca suspected Theo had no idea as to the meaning behind his threats. The idea of Theo meeting George at dawn to duel with pistols or fight with the fists was ridiculous. Looking at the two angered faces before her, Francesca hoped she would be able to defuse the situation without Theo losing face, but somehow that outcome seemed unlikely. George looked as if he was about to accept the challenge from her son. On trembling legs, Francesca left her chair, walked to the door, and held it open. With a withering glance in George’s direction, she made it clear she expected him to leave.

“George, Theo and I are grateful for yours and Bridget’s condolences. However, I’m sure you’ll understand if I say the day has been a long one, and we would like time to ourselves so we might come to terms with our situation. I still have business to conduct with Mr. Adams and would be grateful if you would excuse us.”

“What about the others?” George asked with petulance in his voice.

Francesca’s hands were damp with nervous sweat. She had never taken the lead in a conversation like this before. Charles had always been there to deal with any unpleasantness.

“Naturally everyone will be asked to leave,” she said.

That seemed to appease George, and with a toss of his head, he and Bridget, along with the other remaining relatives, marched from the room, leaving Francesca and Theo alone with the lawyer.

With the door to the drawing room firmly shut, Francesca returned to the table and took a seat again. She signaled for Mr. Adams and Theo to join her.

“Mr. Adams, now that the unpleasantness has been dealt with, what do you suggest we do?”

The lawyer looked perplexed. “Your ladyship, it is not for me to advise you. I was here merely to read the will as written. If it is advice you wish to receive, I suggest you consult his lordship’s…I mean his late lordship’s man-of-business, Mr. Pentworthy.”

Francesca’s heart sank. Only a fool would take note of anything Mr. Pentworthy said. It wasn’t so much his age that contributed to his incompetence, it was the fact he was behind the times and showed no interest in new developments of any kind. Progress was not in his vocabulary. But perhaps his inability to save the estate from ruin had not been his fault. It was possible Charles had overruled any suggestions Mr. Pentworthy might have made for improvements to Chapel Grange.

However, what really bothered Francesca about the whole business of having no funds, was that she had not been made aware of her husband’s financial situation…or lack of. The fact Charles had become virtually penniless had passed her by.

Had she known about the debts Charles had incurred, she could have tried to stop his gambling habit and persuaded him to invest for Theodor’s future. As it was, she had no idea what income remained or what they had to live from.

“Come morning, I will speak with Pentworthy and try and get to the bottom of this,” she said. “Theo and I must find a way to save Chapel Grange, otherwise, I fear bailiffs will be knocking at the door and we shall be made homeless.”

“The first thing you must tackle is the outstanding payment of debts, Lady Francesca. The sooner that is achieved, the sooner you and Lord Theo will know where you stand.”

“And how will I know who is owed what? It is all so confusing.”

“Have no fear, my lady. As soon as word spreads about your husband’s passing, those with legitimate claims will be calling. And don’t forget, Pentworthy will be here to assist you.”

“We will need more than Pentworthy to help us survive. We will need a miracle.”


BUY LINKS:  https://books2read.com/u/4Apone 


Fleeting Encounters: Lady Francesca

Copyright © 2022, Arabella Sheen

ISBN: 978-1-7397710-2-7

Publisher: priceplacebooks

Electronic Publication: February 2022

Editor: Pamela Tyner

Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.


About Arabella Sheen



Arabella Sheen is a British author of contemporary romance and likes nothing more than the challenge of starting a new novel with fresh ideas and inspiring characters.
One of the many things Arabella loves to do is to read. And when she’s not researching or writing about romance, she is either on her allotment sowing and planting with the seasons or she is curled on the sofa with a book, while pandering to the demands of her attention-seeking cat.
Having lived and worked in the Netherlands as a theatre nurse for nearly twenty years, she now lives in the south-west of England with her family.
Arabella hopes her readers have as much pleasure from her romance stories as she has in writing them.

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