Lady Trevarren and the Emerald Brooch: A Regency Romance and Murder Mystery Read online

  Lady Trevarren

  And

  The Emerald Brooch

  This Novel is a work of fiction with all main characters being a product of the author’s imagination.

  All references to real characters and places are in a fictitious context and any resemblance to actual places, people or events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication can be copied or transmitted without the author’s permission.

  Text Copyright 2016

  Miriam Rochester

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design

  By

  Melody Simmons

  Ebookindicovers.com

  BLURB

  After their father loses his estate to Lord Northcote, the dissolute Earl of Winstanley in a card game, Lady Sophie Trevarren and her young brother Daniel are forced to live with their kindly Uncle and Aunt.

  Amongst that lost to them is a brooch that holds a secret that only Sophie knows. She is determined to get it back in order to secure the future for her young brother.

  Holding up the Winstanley Coach she gets more than she bargains for because the Lord Northcote she holds up is not the Lord Northcote she is expecting. Sophie is accomplished in the art of self-defense but this Lord Northcote, a veteran returning from the Peninsular Wars, is a far more dangerous prospect.

  Colonel Northcote is not for one moment fooled by the masked young girl who holds him up and determines to find out who she is and why she harbours a grudge against his family.

  Returning home, he slowly discovers that not all is as it should be. As he slowly uncovers his brother’s criminal activities and endeavours to unmask the identity of his lady rogue, he his drawn into a web of treachery and deceit that will eventually lead to murder.

  The problem is that Lady Sophie Trevarren, the woman of his dreams, is his prime suspect. Firstly, as his lady rogue and later as a murderer.

  As he delves deeper into the mystery his own life his threatened. Facing certain death, he has no one to save him. Or has he?

  This is a clean romance with a moving plot but devoid of descriptive sex.

  Table of Contents

  Lady Trevarren

  And

  The Emerald Brooch

  Text copyright

  Miriam Rochester 2016

  All rights Reserved

  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

  Chapter One

  The outskirts of Newcastle upon Tyne 1814

  Eighteen-year-old Sophie Trevarren crouched behind the shrubbery on the lane leading to Winstanley Hall, the crescent moon shedding a ribbon of light on the path ahead. Daniel, her twelve-year-old brother crouched beside her, tugging incessantly at her sleeve. ‘Please Sophie,’ he begged. ‘Don’t do it! What if you get caught, then what will we do?’

  Sophie pushed her brother back down behind her. ‘Shh Danny. I have no intention of getting caught. That brooch is the only thing I had left of dear mama, and I have every intention of getting it back. It has been in our family for over one hundred years.’

  The brooch consisted of a beautiful oval emerald surrounded by fifteen diamonds and it had a concealed opening at the back, very much like a large locket. Inside it contained a miniature portrait of the likeness of her mother with a lock of her dark golden hair. It had been given to Sophie on her mother’s death and had been Sophie’s most sentimental and valued possession. The brooch belonged to a set also consisting of an emerald necklace and earrings, but it was the brooch that was the focus Sophie’s interest because it contained a secret that only Sophie knew about.

  ‘Goodness Danny,’ she continued, ‘have you any idea what it is worth?’

  ‘I don’t care how much it is worth. I only care about you,’ he argued. ‘Even if you did get it back, you could never wear it again or Lady Northcote would know that it was you who robbed her tonight. Besides, you do not even know if Lady Northcote will be wearing it. You could be risking yourself for nothing.’

  Sophie scowled. ‘Oh, she is wearing it alright. I saw it as plain as day on the shoulder of her ball gown. Lady Northcote could not resist the temptation to show it off and rub it in my face. Oh, she was polite enough, but I could see that she took great pleasure in my discomfort.’

  Escorted by her aunt and uncle, Sophie had left Lady Bertram’s ball early, pleading a megrim. It was the first time she had seen the brooch since her father had gambled it away, and she realised that tonight may be her only opportunity to get it back. Everyone knew that Lord Northcote had cheated the night her father had lost it, but they were unable to prove it. Not only had he lost the brooch, but a fortune along with it. Lady Northcote may own it now but as far as Sophie was concerned, rightful possession was a moot point and she was determined to get it back. She could never understand this male obsession to honour a gambling debt above all else, and especially when the victor had cheated. To her, this honorary code was as unfathomable as it was ridiculous.

  Daniel was not ready to abandon his quest and persisted. ‘But Sophie, it belongs to them now. Lord Northcote won it from Papa in a card game. Please, Sophie, come away before you do something that you will regret.’

  ‘No Danny,’ she snapped back. ‘You should not have followed me. Now be a good boy and go back home to Aunt Caroline. I will be along shortly.’

  Daniel crouched stubbornly behind her. ‘I am not going anywhere without you. What if you get into trouble and you need me!’ he scowled.

  Sophie turned and looked and her obstinate brother in exasperation. ‘Daniel, if you will not go home, you must at least promise to stay in the bushes and not reveal your presence, whatever happens.’

  Daniel, totally unprepared to make such a promise remained silent and just grunted. He was not one to leave his sister in the basket should her whole plan go awry. He reached into his own pocket where unknown to her, he had stashed a pistol belonging to his uncle. Hopefully, he would not be called upon to use it.

  She absently dropped her hand to the hilt of her sword and gripped her own pistol to reassure herself. ‘Believe me, Daniel, I am well prepared. I will not take any unnecessary risks. Now run along home and wait for me there.’

  Sophie did not have time to say anymore because the distant sound of an approaching carriage reached her ears. She pushed Daniel back down and pulled her black silken scarf over her face. Daniel whispered insistently. ‘Oh Sophie, it may not even be them. Please, there is still time to back out!’

  ‘Of course, it is them!’ she snapped back impatiently. ‘We are only half a mile from the gates of Winstanley Hall. Who else could be in this lane at this time of night?’

  Had he been older and stronger Daniel would have physically forced Sophie to do his bidding, but as it was, Sophie was as robust as she was determined and it was not quite within his capabilities.

  It was too late now. The carriage was approaching rapidly. She pushed Daniel yet further back into the bushes and stepped out onto the dirt track. Levelling her pistol, she hesitated slightly because instead of a closed carriage, she was faci
ng an open barouche with only one occupant. Confusion reigned. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Winstanley family crest on the body of the door. She sighed with relief, she was not mistaken after all, but her relief was only momentary. Where were lady Northcote and the brooch? Her presence was essential to the whole plan of retrieving it. Sophie was committed, however, and could not retreat now, and surely Lord Northcote would have a little something with which he could compensate for his crimes.

  ‘Stand and deliver,’ she demanded gruffly.

  The occupant, having expertly brought his rearing horse under control, leant forward and stared down the barrel of her pistol. He was not fooled by her gruff voice or the huge silken scarf that covered her face. A woman stood before him, of that he was aware. As he dismounted she gasped and stood back to put some distance between them. The occupant of the carriage was not Lord Northcote but a complete stranger. What is more, he hardly seemed phased by the fact that she had a pistol levelled at him.

  ‘What would you have me deliver, my lady rogue?’ he said with a sardonic smile on his handsome face. He was dressed mostly in black, but the moonlight caught the diamond pin which sparkled in his lily white cravat. He reached for it. ‘I only have this I am afraid, and of course a few coins in my purse, but you are welcome to them in return for a kiss.’

  Sophie’s sense of justice could not quite bring her to rob a stranger, and his brazen audacity and his keen perception of her gender discomposed her. She moved back. ‘I have no wish for your diamond pin or your money and I certainly have no desire for your kiss. Please accept my apologies. You are not who I thought you were. You are free to go.’

  But he did not go. She continued to level her pistol at him, but her confidence wavered as she had no intention of using it. Shooting another human being was entirely repugnant to her. The man seemed to sense it and stepped further forward closing the gap between them.

  ‘Why, is my diamond pin not good enough? Really, you are most welcome to it,’ he replied, roguishly throwing it to the ground so that she could pick it up.

  Sophie glanced down but she was not to be tricked that easily. If he thought to take advantage as she bent down to retrieve it, he had another thing coming. They both stood at an impasse for a moment and then finally he took a further step forward. ‘Why, my lady rogue, what a strange footpad you are. You know, I do not think that you have any intention of using that pistol. Indeed, I do not even believe you know how to use it. Come remove that silken scarf and let me gaze upon your beauty.’

  Sophie aimed the pistol and shot the gilded glass lamp off the barouche with perfect accuracy. ‘Do not underestimate me,’ she chided gruffly. ‘I have had a pistol in my hand since I was in leading strings. Now please, I have no desire to shoot you. Retreat and no one will get hurt.’

  He smiled sardonically. ‘But my dear you have just expended your pistol. How exactly are you going to shoot me now? Do you think that I am going to stand here and do nothing while you calmly reload?’

  He stepped forward to grab her but was a split second too late as she stepped back and drew her sword. She was an agile young sprite, he would give her that.

  ‘Retreat!’ she demanded. ‘Believe me, I am equally able to use this sword. I have no desire to hurt you. As I said, I was expecting someone else. I have no business with you.’

  He frowned. ‘I presume that you are lying in wait for Lord Northcote, the Earl of Winstanley. He could be the only person you were expecting on this stretch of road. Now what can you want with my brother?’ he asked curiously. ‘I am also a Northcote. Will I not do just as well?’

  Sophie was stunned. She had no idea that the Earl of Winstanley had a brother. He looked nothing like him. The man before her was tall, dark, lean and swarthy and the only thing to mar his handsome face was a large scar on the side of his head from his temple to his ear. Her heart gave a flutter. His commanding presence and exuding power were dangerous and her compelling attraction to him decomposed her. His brother the Earl was so very different. He was fair skinned, of medium height and had declined into corpulence, and she could hardly believe that the two were related. The Lord Northcote before her seemed to sense her confusion.

  ‘Do you not believe me?’ he replied. ‘I tend to favour my mother. Let me introduce myself formally.’ He closed the gap between them just a little bit more. ‘Colonel Harry Northcote. I am just returned from Portugal on prolonged leave and at your service. And who might you be, my endearing lady rogue? ’

  Sophie, not to be distracted by his undeniable charm, could not allow him to get any closer. She raised her sword to beneath his chin to keep him at bay. As he felt the cold steel against his skin he stilled, seemingly unruffled and obviously assessing his next move.

  ‘Never mind who I am,’ she retorted. ‘I am sorry to have troubled you. You may wish to stand here all night bandying words, but I have no desire. I will wish you farewell with no harm done.’

  She retreated with the intent of disappearing back into the bushes from whence she came, but Lord Northcote had other ideas. He quickly reached into the barouche to retrieve his own sword and challenged her. ‘I think not, my lady rogue. You are not going anywhere until I know who you are. I have a desire to know who held me up this fine night and I have a wish to gaze upon what I am sure must be a lovely face.’

  Sophie was not expecting his tenacity and squared up to him in exasperation. ‘I cannot allow it, and I can assure you, you would only be disappointed, my Lord.’

  ‘I shall reserve my own judgement,’ he replied, smiling as he unsheathed his sword. Raising her blade again, they circled, each intent on gaining an opening advantage. Lord Northcote was an expert swordsman and a veteran of the Peninsular Wars. He realised that if she fought as well as she had shot the glass lamp from off his barouche, he could not take her for granted. His reservation was well founded as Sophie repelled his first lunge with a practised expertise.

  This battle was going to be harder than he expected. He did not doubt his ability to overcome her, but as he had no desire to cause her harm, he would have to be careful. And if he was not mistaken, she wielded a sword crafted by the great local Oley family from Shotley Bridge, sword maker to the King. It was exquisite, and as beautiful as it was deadly. A novice would not wield such a sword and he wondered just how old she really was. They fought for what seemed a protracted ten minutes and Lord Northcote was surprised as she continued to ward off his attacks. Indeed, she made a few expert lunges of her own, which took him off guard.

  It was not Sophie’s expertise that let her down, but her strength of arm. As time progressed, her sword arm became heavy and she found it increasingly difficult to ward off his incessant lunges. Finally, her strength eluded her and he expertly disarmed her of her sword with a practised flick of the wrist. Her sword fell to the ground with a loud clatter leaving her completely at his mercy.

  Lord Northcote backed her toward a tree with the tip of his sword pointed to her breast. ‘Remove your scarf, my lady rogue,’ he demanded. ‘I wish to show you what can happen to young ladies who venture alone on quiet byways when it is dark. Never fear, a kiss will suffice.’

  Sophie was unsure what to do. She had the infuriating but thrilling desire to kiss this handsome stranger, but to do so would reveal her identity. That would be fatal, destroying her reputation and all she had left. She must not be distracted by his handsome countenance, besides, she had already suffered enough at the hands of his corrupt and immoral family.

  ‘Touch me if you dare,’ she barked, reaching for the waistband of her breeches for her knife. ‘I have fight left in me yet.’

  He laughed. He was now close enough to see the brilliance of her large blue eyes framed by the most luxurious of long lashes. They were glistening in the moonlight and filled with uncertainty. He lay down his sword and stepped forward to fill the remaining space between them. ‘You do realise that young ladies roaming around the vicinity after midnight without a chaperone can expect no l
ess. Come you owe me a kiss at the very least for all the inconvenience and exertion you have cost me this night. Besides,’ he added with chagrin, ‘you owe for the damage to my brother’s barouche.’

  ‘I owe your brother nothing!’ she hissed, waving the knife in front of him. ‘And he owes me the world.’

  Lord Northcote was puzzled by this outburst but was not to be side-tracked. ‘On the other hand, you do owe me,’ he persisted. He reached forward and with an agility that belied his size, he grabbed the knife and twisted it out of her hand. Reaching up with his other hand, he removed her hat revealing the chestnut curls of a short horsehair wig. Thinking it to be her own hair he was somewhat disappointed, but one look into those glistening blue eyes renewed his spirit. As she made no move to do his bidding he reached forward to remove the scarf, but a slight movement from the bushes distracted him. He found himself facing a fair-haired, gangly youth with Sophie’s discarded sword in one hand and a pistol in the other.

  ‘Unhand my sister, sir,’ the youth demanded with as much fortitude as he could muster for one so young. ‘Unlike her, I am prepared to use this pistol if absolutely necessary.’

  Lord Northcote rolled his eyes to the heavens wondering where he had come from. ‘Am I to be plagued by small boys as well,’ he cursed in exasperation.

  His sense of honour prevented him from wrangling with a young man who could only be in his early teens and possibly injuring him. Daniel gingerly handed Sophie her sword and kept Lord Northcote covered while she slowly edged away from the tree.

  ‘Let us get out of here S… F…Fee,’ he stumbled, nearly giving her name away.

  Lord Northcote watched as they retreated into the thick bushes, frustrated at being foiled when so close to discovering her identity. He could have saved the situation, but possibly someone would have been hurt, a circumstance that he was not prepared to risk. Neither could he trust that young cub with a pistol. Young boys in adolescence had a tendency to be wild and the young shaver could do something that he would later regret. It was best to let them go. No harm had been done. In fact, he had rather enjoyed his unexpected tryst with the unknown lady. Whoever they were, they were not common thieves. They were members of the gentry, and what is more, they had a grievance with his brother, the Earl of Winstanley.