Page 1 of Embracing the Earl (The St. Clairs 3)

Chapter One

Boston—February, 1815

Caroline finished dressingand went downstairs where her usual tea and toast awaited her.

“Good morning, Mrs. Johnson. How is today’s weather?”

“Frigid,” the housekeeper replied tersely. “Tippet did his business and raced back in.”

She seated herself and the dog left his spot next to the fire to come close in order for Caroline to pet him. She stroked his shiny, black fur and the dog sighed in contentment before curling up partly atop her feet.

Pouring herself a cup of tea, she added one lump of sugar and a splash of cream before stirring. Mrs. Johnson sat opposite her and did the same. Both women spread jam on their toast.

Sometimes, Caroline still marveled at how different America was. The thought of one of their servants in London sitting down and eating breakfast with her would have been laughable, yet here in Boston it was not only accepted but encouraged. She wasn’t called Lady Caroline by anyone. Friends of all ages referred to her as Caroline, while she introduced herself to strangers as Miss Andrews. Being a loyal subject of England’s king was frowned upon, especially since the United States was at war again with its former Mother Country.

At first, she’d resented being in Boston. Though she’d taken to Aunt Evie immediately, Caroline’s mother hadn’t fared well on the eight-week transatlantic crossing and she’d died at the end of April, only two weeks after they’d arrived from England. Already grieving her sister’s passing, Caroline had to deal with losing her mother, as well. Aunt Evie had been her saving grace, instantly becoming family and close friend in the following weeks. Evie was kind, comforting, and yet no-nonsense all rolled into one. Caroline supposed her aunt had learned to be self-sufficient in the four years since her husband’s death. They’d had no children and Evie had to look after herself.

The two women decided Caroline would stay for a few months so they could get to know one another better. Then news of war came that June, effectively trapping her in Boston for the duration of the war.

It looked as if the war might be coming to an end soon. General Jackson had soundly trounced the British in New Orleans only last month and hopes ran high in Boston. New England had never been in favor for what was harshly termed Mr. Madison’s War since shipbuilding and ship trading provided the lifeblood of the region. Only the western and southern states had voted to go to war against England, seriously dividing the young nation to the breaking point.

Caroline finished her breakfast and took the dishes back to the kitchen. Mrs. Johnson told her to leave them so Caroline could get to the bookshop. She placed her heavy, plain cloak about her and called Tippet, who came bounding toward her, and they set out for her bookstore. She was finally thinking of the place as hers. It had been exactly a year to the date—and once again, Caroline’s birthday—when Aunt Evie had been struck by a runaway team of horses and died of her injuries. Much to her surprise, Caroline found herself the sole heir of Evie’s estate. Her aunt had sold Captain Morton’s ship after his death and used the proceeds to open a bookstore.

She’d worked in the bookstore alongside her aunt during the first two years in Boston, learning all aspects of the book trade from ordering books to balancing the ledgers. When Aunt Evie died, Caroline grieved but found herself well prepared to run the shop on her own, though she’d hired Josiah Long to help her. In the last year, the shop had its best year of profit, a source of great pride for her.

Tippet kept close as she walked through the narrow streets of Boston, a light snow falling. Once again, she marveled at how she was able to walk the streets of the city alone, with only her dog for company. In London, she would have had to take her maid everywhere. It would be totally unacceptable for her to be unchaperoned. Coming to America had granted her freedoms she never would have experienced if she’d remained in England after Cynthia’s death.

By the time she reached the bookshop, the snow had stopped. As she arrived, she saw Jordy, Mr. Frain’s apprentice, carrying a bundle of newspapers and headed her way. She unlocked the shop and opened the door for him. Jordy breezed through and set the newspapers on the counter, taking out a pocketknife to cut through the string that bound them together.

“Good morning, Caroline,” he said, his usual smile in place. “Do you think today we’ll get good news?”

For Jordy, good news meant hearing if the Americans had won another battle.

“It’s possible,” she said.

“With Jackson’s victory in New Orleans, surely the British will give up now.”

“They’re a tough lot, Jordy. Just look at me,” she teased.

He cocked his head. “I forget you’re British sometimes, Caroline. It seems as if you’ve been in Boston forever.”

Josiah entered the shop and greeted them.

“I’ll be off,” Jordy said. “See you tomorrow.”

After the door closed, Josiah asked, “Was he talking of the war again?”

“Yes. You know he lost his older brother in battle last year. If Mr. Frain didn’t need him so badly at the print shop, I believe Jordy would have run off and joined Harrison’s or Jackson’s army by now.”

He shook his head. “It was a foolish war to fight. Even if we win, it’s crippled our economy.”

She smiled at his New England logic. “At least people still like buying books—and newspapers.”

It had been her idea to carry the local newspaper in the shop. Once upon a time, Caroline had been interested in nothing more than fripperies. Matching ribbons to bonnets. What size and color of reticule to carry. Being in Boston made her more aware of politics and economics. She’d become a voracious reader of the news and found she was in similar company. Both men and women in the city were drawn to the topics.

Because of that, she’d encouraged Aunt Evie to buy large bundles of the newspaper each day to entice people to come to the bookshop. Evie had been reluctant at first but let Caroline try her idea out. Within a fortnight, they had regular customers appearing every day. She’d cleared out space for them to sit and read the news sheets. Sometimes, they stayed to browse—and buy. Her best idea had been to stock licorice and toffee in glass jars near the newspapers. When customers purchased a paper, they inevitably saw the nearby sweets. At times, it was hard keeping the candies in stock because they sold out so frequently.

They opened the shop and the usual group filed in. Over the next several hours, she and Josiah sold all of the newspapers and seven books.

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