A Groom of Her Own (Scandalous Affairs Book 1) Read online

  A Groom of Her Own

  by

  Christi Caldwell

  Other Titles by Christi Caldwell

  Scandalous Affairs

  A Groom of Her Own

  Taming of the Beast

  Heart of a Duke

  In Need of a Duke—Prequel Novella

  For Love of the Duke

  More than a Duke

  The Love of a Rogue

  Loved by a Duke

  To Love a Lord

  The Heart of a Scoundrel

  To Wed His Christmas Lady

  To Trust a Rogue

  The Lure of a Rake

  To Woo a Widow

  To Redeem a Rake

  One Winter with a Baron

  To Enchant a Wicked Duke

  Beguiled by a Baron

  To Tempt a Scoundrel

  To Hold a Lady’s Secret

  The Heart of a Scandal

  In Need of a Knight—Prequel Novella

  Schooling the Duke

  A Lady’s Guide to a Gentleman’s Heart

  A Matchmaker for a Marquess

  His Duchess for a Day

  Five Days with a Duke

  Lords of Honor

  Seduced by a Lady’s Heart

  Captivated by a Lady’s Charm

  Rescued by a Lady’s Love

  Tempted by a Lady’s Smile

  Courting Poppy Tidemore

  Scandalous Seasons

  Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride

  Never Courted, Suddenly Wed

  Always Proper, Suddenly Scandalous

  Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love

  A Marquess for Christmas

  Once a Wallflower, at Last His Love

  Sinful Brides

  The Rogue’s Wager

  The Scoundrel’s Honor

  The Lady’s Guard

  The Heiress’s Deception

  The Wicked Wallflowers

  The Hellion

  The Vixen

  The Governess

  The Bluestocking

  The Spitfire

  The Theodosia Sword

  Only For His Lady

  Only For Her Honor

  Only For Their Love

  Danby

  A Season of Hope

  Winning a Lady’s Heart

  The Brethren

  The Spy Who Seduced Her

  The Lady Who Loved Him

  The Rogue Who Rescued Her

  The Minx Who Met Her Match

  The Spinster Who Saved a Scoundrel

  Lost Lords of London

  In Bed with the Earl

  In the Dark with the Duke

  Undressed with the Marquess

  Brethren of the Lords

  My Lady of Deception

  Her Duke of Secrets

  The Read Family Saga

  A Winter Wish

  Regency Duets

  Rogues Rush In: Tessa Dare and Christi Caldwell

  Yuletide Wishes: Grace Burrowes and Christi Caldwell

  Her Christmas Rogue

  Standalone

  Fighting for His Lady

  Memoir: Non-Fiction

  Uninterrupted Joy

  A Groom of Her Own

  Copyright © 2020 by Christi Caldwell

  Kindle Edition

  Cover Design by Holly Perret

  All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  For more information about the author:

  www.christicaldwellauthor.com

  [email protected]

  Twitter: @ChristiCaldwell

  Or on Facebook at: Christi Caldwell Author

  For first glimpse at covers, excerpts, and free bonus material, be sure to sign up for my monthly newsletter!

  About the Book

  Years earlier, young noblemen were ripped away from the folds of their powerful families, and forced into a dark existence on the streets. When these lost lords of London were restored to their rightful place among Polite Society, they weren’t the only ones whose lives were irrevocably changed. Innocent ladies now pay the price of their families trickery and cheating…

  A Lady Lost

  A family scandal has left artist Claire Poplar without friends, suitors, or means. Art is her only joy and respite, despite her talent being mocked by famed artist Caleb Gray. On an impulse, knowing there is no way back to the life she had before, Claire decides on her own path. A path that will see her wed, and no longer a financial burden and spinster poor relation. The wedding may be a business arrangement, but it will give Claire freedom and stability away from the prying eyes and censure of society.

  An Artist with a Dark Past

  American artist, Caleb Gray, hates all things English. Impressed into the British Navy against his will, Caleb lost everything. His past has left him cold, unfeeling, and jaded. Using the ice in his veins Caleb has built a career as a renowned artist, letting his feelings take shape in his paintings and nowhere else. Now, an English inheritance offers Caleb a chance to devote himself entirely to his painting and to his travels. He’ll find a biddable English wife to manage his estate for him, and save his passion for his art. Caleb’s plan is in motion until his nemesis Claire Poplar happens to upend his world. The woman whose been an adversary from the start, will have him hungering to kiss her and imagining…even more.

  Will Claire and Caleb pursue their art or listen to the wisdom of the heart?

  Dedication

  In life, you meet all kinds of people. In the toughest times you really learn who is beside you. Who supports you…and who is a real friend.

  A Groom of Her Own is dedicated to one of the truest friends I’ve ever been blessed to find in life.

  Kate, as I write this, I’m almost at the one-year anniversary of being inside my house, and away from society. When I went in lockdown with my family, you never forgot me. You always supported me in my decision to stay indoors and keep our immunocompromised son safe, and you also reminded me the moment this ends, that you are having me over to dinner and taking me out. You always text or call and talk with me about normal things in life, so that I can sometimes believe life is normal.

  How did I ever get so lucky as to have a friend like you?

  Table of Contents

  Other Titles by Christi Caldwell

  About the Book

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapte
r 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Biography

  Prologue

  London, England

  Claire Poplar was leaving.

  No doubt when Polite Society discovered where she’d gone, they’d refer to the deed as “running away.” Nor, given her family’s involvement in the disappearance of a young earl years earlier, would society be altogether wrong.

  After all, what lady would choose to remain in a place where her family’s sins lived strongest? Where a woman was looked down upon and judged and where there existed no future beyond that scandal? No lady would do that. Not when there was the possibility of escaping it all.

  Nor, for that matter, did she blame society for their contempt. At all. Her parents had orchestrated a heinous crime when they’d had a young earl kidnapped so that Claire’s father could assume the rank of earl… and claim all the fortunes that went with it. Because the baronetcy her father had possessed hadn’t been enough.

  Because there’d been a thirst for even more wealth. And more lands.

  When her father’s sins had had come to light, Claire and her siblings, by nature of their blood connection had become inextricably linked with that plot to secure a grander title, with even greater wealth.

  As such, Claire had just one thought in mind—escape. Leaving her family’s sins and crimes far behind, and starting over anew.

  And it was her art that would set her free.

  All she need do was convince famed artist Caleb Gray—her sister-in-law Poppy’s art instructor—to allow her to join him on his next tour, and help coordinate her placement at the Académie des Beaux-Arts; one of few institutions that accepted female students.

  Caleb Gray, who rather… disliked her.

  But he hadn’t always.

  When he’d first begun arriving to visit Poppy for lessons, he and Claire had gotten on well enough. And it was that once-gruff, but not unkind, gentleman to whom she’d put her appeal.

  Or perhaps that’s just what you’re telling yourself. Perhaps you imagined those handful of warm, teasing exchanges before he turned to ice.

  Because it was a certainty that Caleb had been a foe longer than he’d been… a friend.

  Standing outside the townhouse he kept, concealed by nothing more than a deep-hooded cloak, she found that reminder to be almost enough to make her consider leaving.

  Almost.

  Perhaps she would have if she weren’t so desperate.

  Either way, before her courage deserted her, Claire collected the bronze ring upon one of the double doors and brought it down hard.

  The clang of metal upon oak thundered inordinately loud.

  And she stiffened, braced for people to duck their heads outside their windows and doorways to catch sight of the scandalous creature venturing here alone.

  Alas… no one came running or rushing out.

  And that included Mr. Caleb Gray’s butler.

  She wrinkled her nose.

  Claire waited several moments, long enough so as not to be considered rude, but short enough so as not to risk being discovered out here, any more than she already had risked that.

  Catching the ring once more, she brought the knocker down.

  Grumbling came from the other side of those double panels, and her heart lifted. Excitement at being that much closer to her goal managed to supersede the deserved anxiety of meeting with a man she’d been at odds with for the past handful of months.

  Caleb’s butler drew the door open. “What?” he demanded.

  Claire went absolutely motionless. For this was decidedly not his butler.

  Caleb raked an up-and-down stare over her hooded person. “You,” he muttered.

  You.

  So he knew who she was. She took heart at that realization and also the fact that he’d not told her to leave.

  “You answer your own door,” she blurted, forgetting to drop her voice to a whisper.

  Should she have expected anything different from an American than to be so unconventional as to see to such a mundane task himself? And… she quite liked that about him.

  Folding his arms, he nudged his deeply squared jaw her way. “Aren’t there rules with you people on ladies not paying visits to random households?”

  “Is that really just an English thing? Or an American one, as well?” she asked, curiosity over that question more pressing than the fact that she risked ruin by being caught discussing anything with a gentleman. Alone. At midnight. “That is, regarding the servants.”

  “Is that why you’ve come, Your Highness? To chat about international servant protocols?”

  Did she detect a smile on his hard, perfectly masculine lips? Nay, it was gone so quick it had likely been a play of shadows, a flicker of the moon’s glow, or her own imagination… or all three.

  Caleb Gray didn’t smile at her. Not any longer.

  Once, he had.

  Once, he’d even teased her and…

  He made to shut the door.

  Claire wedged her sketch pad between the door and the jamb to stop him. “I beg your pardon?” He’d just close the panel in her face? Though, should you really expect anything different? Actually, yes, she did. “How dare you, Mr. Gray?”

  “How dare I? Tsk, tsk.” He managed to drawl that mocking clucking of his tongue. “Is this how you treat your craft?” He looked pointedly at the book, and it did not escape her notice that he’d not closed the door on her work.

  Just like that, he provided Claire her perfect segue. “Yes, well, interestingly, that is what I came here to speak with you about.”

  “You came to speak with me about how you don’t respect art?” he asked, his expression deadpan.

  Indignation brought her spine straight. “I beg your pardon. I do not—” She squinted. No. It was there. A glint… or a glimmer. This time, of amusement. Claire stomped her foot. “Oh, will you just let me in?”

  He hesitated a moment, and then sticking his head out, he glanced up and down the street. Then, collecting her by the wrist, he tugged her quickly inside. “What?” he demanded without preamble.

  This was how their exchange would occur? In the middle of his foyer?

  His very dusty foyer.

  She sneezed, catching that achoo in her gloved fingers. “Perhaps we might speak somewhere more—”

  “No,” he cut her off.

  “I’d rather not speak about such sensitive matters”—she dropped her voice to a whisper—“with servants about… with anyone about.”

  “You’ve no worries there. The help I have go on their way at the end of the day. They won’t return for four hours. I trust this meeting isn’t going to take the whole four?”

  Too intrigued to be annoyed by his teasing query, she did another glance about. “No… servants,” she murmured, shoving her hood back. “How…” Her words and thoughts trailed off as his entire form was brought fully into focus. English gentlemen as a rule were wiry and pale and achingly… everything this man before her was not. Broad and powerful of form, as if Poseidon himself had tired of the sea and set himself up among mere mortals, Caleb Gray… captivated. “Fascinating?” she managed to finish, her voice breathless to her own ears.

  He moved his gaze over her face. His thick, dark brown lashes swept low as he homed his focus on… her mouth. Not for the first time since they’d met, she thought he might kiss her. Warmth filled her belly, and her chest hitched as he inched his lips closer to hers. Claire angled her head up to—

  Something that looked very much like horror lit his eyes. Caleb took a quick step back.

  Shame brought her toes curling tight.

  “What are you doing here, Claire?” he asked quietly, but not with the condescension that had recently crept into his tones whenever they spoke. “Is everything all—?”

  “I want you to take me to Paris,” she blurted and then flinched as soon as the words left her lips. She’d thought to come in here with a good deal more�
�� tact. Alas, he was an American. Perhaps he’d appreciate her directness.

  Caleb scratched at his high brow, stirring the several loose curls hanging there. Her fingers ached to test that texture, to see if those strands were as luxuriant as they appeared from the shimmer alone. Just so that she might accurately capture the feel for artistic purposes.

  Liar…

  He shook his head. “You…?”

  When he let the query go unfinished, she clarified, “As Poppy will no longer be joining you, I thought you might allow me to accompany you and introduce me to the instructor whom you intended to pair her with at the university.” Her sister-in-law, who was gifted in ways where Claire had to work harder, had been presented with the greatest gift, one available to so few women—to learn and hone her artistic capabilities at an institution. Now that she was newly expecting and her husband, Claire’s brother, was set to work in London at the Home Office, Poppy had made the decision to set aside that opportunity. For now.

  At the protracted silence, she cleared her throat, filling the void. “I brought my work.” She held the sketch pad out for his inspection. When he made no move to take it, she added, “To show you that it has improved since—”

  “What?” he barked, his voice soaring to the thirty-foot ceilings. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Claire’s heart slipped. He’d not known. He should have. Given his close relationship with her sister-in-law, Claire had simply assumed he would have been the first to know. Instead, she’d gone and divulged a private confidence. Accidentally, but that mattered not at all. “Oh, hell,” she whispered. “Uh…” Claire let her arm fall to her side.

  “What did you say?”

  “I’m…” She wet her lips. She briefly eyed the door behind her. Except, if she stepped through and quit this exchange, then she would also forfeit any hope of escape. And a future different than the one she currently looked forward to. “It’s not my place.”

  “No. It’s not,” he snapped. “But you came here and started spewing information, and so now I’m asking for clarification.” Caleb jammed his index finger against his opposite palm.

  “I won’t say it.”

  He stalked over. “But you already did.”

  He was livid. Fury poured from his muscular frame. At her impertinence? Or at the discovery his great student should reject the gift he’d offered her?