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A Worthy Alteration by Judith Hale Everett

Peter Holydale, Viscount Windon, is a connoisseur of beauty. The lovely face of a beautiful woman will inspire him to all sorts of gallantry—except marriage. Somehow, he cannot bring himself to wish to offer for any of the lovely ladies he has admired over the years, and all of them end up marrying someone else. But he continues to pursue beautiful women, and this laudable pastime takes him all the way to county Durham, where he means to pay court to Miss Tyndall, his latest object of admiration. But a chance encounter with the governess—whose beauty is hidden by her severe dress and hairstyle—thwarts his purpose, for he cannot seem to get the drab governess out of his mind…

Excerpt

Lord Windon kicked at a stone. Perhaps he would offer for Miss Tyndall—if not during the house party, sometime in the near future—for besides being angelically pretty, she was the most darling, the sweetest, most captivating—

His mental image of this paragon vanished away as his gaze fell upon one in the flesh, just emerging from the door to the inn. She wore a heavy, fur-lined cape over a blue woolen pelisse, but the countenance framed by the hood testified to the perfections hidden beneath the layers of her clothing. Her face had an elfin quality, the lips a cupid’s bow, the eyes a deep and trusting brown. Dusky curls peeped from the recesses of the hood, and the gloved hands that held a portmanteau before her were small and elegant.

Lord Windon’s view was obscured a moment as the stage lumbered out of the yard, but when it had passed, he saw that she was speaking with the ostler, who shook his head in answer to her inquiry. The lovely eyes were downcast a moment as the lips frowned, and when she again raised her eyes, her distress was evident, even from across the inn yard. Another inquiry was productive of still more consternation, and Windon knew his moment had come.

Closing the distance in a few strides, he swept off his hat and bowed. “Beg pardon, madam, but I perceive you’re in distress of some kind.” He returned the hat to his head and gazed fully upon the upturned face, his own a careful mix of concern and admiration. “Might I be of assistance?”

“Oh!” The lady colored deeply, one hand coming up to cover her sweet mouth. She dropped her gaze, stammering a little, “I did not perceive—forgive me—you are very kind, my lord—I am so very obliged—however, I cannot accept—”

Windon’s view of her charms being impaired by her refusal to look at him, he felt it imperative that he put her at ease. “Assure you, ma’am, I’ve nothing to do that cannot wait. Merely on the way to a house party, but plenty of daylight left to offer a trifling service.”

She at last rewarded him with a peep from her brown eyes, though they showed not trust but something else—embarrassment? He smiled reassuringly, angling to get a better view of that elusive countenance.

“Most humble servant, ma’am. Pray, allow me to know what’s distressed you.”

Another peep from those enchanting eyes, this time less anxious. “Do you not—that is, do you really mean to help me, sir?”

“Anything in my power,” was his immediate reply.

She inhaled, glancing about as though in search of confirmation. But as the ostler had returned to his duties and the grooms had all disappeared into the stables to see after the horses from the stage, there was no one else to whom she could turn. Letting out a breath that puffed in the cold air, she lifted her chin, gazing for the first time directly at Lord Windon.

“I thank you, sir. It is only that I was to have been met here by my aunt’s carriage, but it seems she has—” She hesitated, dropping her gaze again for a moment. “She has mistaken the day, to be sure. I might walk to the house, for it is only a matter of a few miles—”

“A few miles!” exclaimed Windon, who never walked when he could ride. “I’ll not hear of it! Pray allow me to take you up in my carriage. Catch your death walking all of a few miles in this weather.”

About the Author

As one of seven sisters, Judith Hale Everett grew up surrounded by romance novels. Georgette Heyer and Jane Austen were staples, and formed the groundwork for her lifelong love affair with the Regency. Add to that her obsession with the English language and you’ve got one hopelessly literate romantic. Her third book, Forlorn Hope, was a finalist in the 2022 Wishing Shelf Book Awards.

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