Guarding the Widow Pellingham

Guarding the Widow Pellingham Willful WinterbournesBook Four Sandra Sookoo © Copyright 2023 by Sandra Sookoo Text by Sandra Sookoo Cover by Dar Albert Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc. P.O. Box 23 Moreno Valley, CA 92556 [email protected] Produced in the United States of America First Edition May 2023 Kindle Edition Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited. All Rights Reserved. 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. License Notes: This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. 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Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way. Happy Reading! CEO, Dragonblade Publishing Additional Dragonblade books by Author Sandra Sookoo Willful Winterbournes Series Romancing Miss Quill (Book 1) Pursuing Mr. Mattingly (Book 2) Courting Lady Yeardly (Book 3) Guarding the Widow Pellingham (Book 4) Teasing Miss Atherby (Novella) The Storme Brother Series The Soul of a Storme (Book 1) The Heart of a Storme (Book 2) The Look of a Storme (Book 3) A Storme’s Christmas Legacy A Storme’s First Noelle The Sting of a Storme (Book 4) The Touch of a Storme (Book 5) The Fury of a Storme (Book 6) Much Ado About a Storme (in the A Duke in Winter anthology) The Lyon’s Den Series The Lyon’s Puzzle Dedication Natalie. Thanks for bringing your light and inspiration into my life. I’m so glad we met. Keep on being you. Table of Contents Title Page Copyright Page Publisher’s Note Additional Dragonblade books by Author Sandra Sookoo 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 Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Epilogue About the Author Stay in Touch Chapter One March 15, 1820 Ashdowne House St. James Place, London Beware the Ides of March. Wasn’t that what Julius Caesar was warned to avoid? Should I give into the superstition regarding the day as well? Graham Ashdowne frowned at the open account ledger he currently worked. In all his forty-one years on this earth, he’d never seen such an accounting mess as this one. At this point, and if his figuring was correct, he would be forced to avoid more than just the 15th of March. That meant no parties, no new clothes for himself or his younger brother, who still resided beneath his roof, no extravagant dinners, or anything else one considered frivolous. From everything he’d managed to piece together over the years, through the maze of false account books and errant entries—either his father or his father’s former man-of-affairs—had not possessed a head for business. Not even a little bit, and because of that, the Ashdowne coffers had run on very scarce funding for years. With the passing of his father and mother three years before, Graham had reluctantly been put in charge of the estates and all the responsibilities of the Marquess of Grantley. Every month, they’d bled money. Barely had he managed to stop the hemorrhaging, and now that all of his father’s debts had finally been paid—apparently, his sire had successfully hidden how much he’d enjoyed his vices—the truth of the accounts stared back at him. We are into dun territory. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, for that meant he needn’t go out into society more often than he should, and since both his parents were dead, there wasn’t a need to care for them in their old age. That strain on the coffers was removed. His younger sister Beatrice—the middle Ashdowne sibling—was a widow and her husband had left her reasonably well off. She wouldn’t struggle or need to find a living, but it was his younger brother he worried about. Edmund—Viscount Evermore—was seven and thirty. He lived with Graham for a host of reasons instead of taking rooms or a set somewhere around town, though he suspected his brother lingered in a misguided effort to look after him. Not that I need a nursemaid. I have a stutter, not a true handicap. But, more often than not, people—including his family—regarded him with pity and sympathy, wishing to help or even try to “fix” his problem. He didn’t need that. In fact, he didn’t need any of it; this was merely something he struggled with, but he tried hard not to let it define him. That thinking didn’t always work. Regardless, the lack of coin suited him well enough, for it ensured he could stay tucked away in his townhouse without doing the pretty in society. A preemptory knock on