The Spice Bride (The Emberton Brothers Series Book 1) Read online

  The Spice Bride

  By

  Karen Aminadra

  THE EMBERTON BROTHERS SERIES BOOK 1

  With three ships sunk in one year by Napoléon’s navy, Richard Emberton is desperate to save his spice importation business.

  While collecting his daughter from boarding school in England, George Hayward is on the lookout for a new exporter for his spice plantation in India.

  With benefits to be reaped by both sides, Richard agrees to marry the plantation owner’s daughter.

  Certain that her chance at love is being sold to the highest bidder, Grace Hayward feels little more than a slave and is determined she will never be happy again.

  With such an inglorious beginning, can love flourish?

  Published in 2016 by Karen Aminadra

  Copyright © 2016 Karen Aminadra

  First Edition

  This is a work of fiction. All names and characters in this book are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  The author has asserted their moral right under the

  Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN: 9781310187186

  ISBN: 9781533768070

  Thanks

  Greatest thanks to Theo, my mum, and Karilyn and Derek. To Judith, Caroline, Miranda, and Victoria for being such great support.

  To Miranda Stork at www.moonrosecovers.com for the excellent cover art! You really have a great talent!

  To my Street Team – many thanks for beta reading this, helping me, and giving me such invaluable advice!

  To Brenda and Chuck Fiscus for editing, great insight, research, and all the thousands of other little things you’ve done to get this book ready for publication!

  Sign up for Karen Aminadra’s mailing list and get a free copy of her first novel Charlotte ~ Pride & Prejudice Continues, book 1.

  Click here to get started – www.karenaminadra.com

  MORE BY KAREN AMINADRA

  Historical Romance

  Charlotte – Pride & Prejudice Continues, book 1

  Rosings – Pride & Prejudice Continues, book 2

  Wickham – Pride & Prejudice Continues, book 3

  Pride & Prejudice Continues Box Set – books 1-3

  The Spice Bride – The Emberton Brothers series, book 1

  The Suitable Bride – The Emberton Brothers series, book 2

  Historical Crime / Mystery

  Relative Deceit: Death in the Family

  It’s a Man’s World – Lettie Jenkins Investigates

  Contemporary Women’s Fiction / Chick-Lit

  The Uncanny Life of Polly

  Contents

  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

  Charity (love) suffereth long, and is kind; 1 Corinthians 13:4 King James Version

  Chapter One

  Emberton Hall, Essex, England

  1st September 1815

  Edward, the middle of the Emberton sons, entered Richard’s bedroom with two glasses of brandy in his hands. “I thought I’d bring a little something to steel us for this evening’s tedium.”

  Richard stood by the full-length gilded looking glass in his silk breeches, shirt, and stockings, and his reflection grinned back at his younger brother. “Thank you.” He reached out for the crystal glass from his copper-haired sibling as he approached, took a bracing draught, then placed the glass on a side-table containing his hairbrush and comb. Edward laughed and dragged the blue Jacquard-covered wing chair nearer to the fire and reclined in it with one leg draped over the arm as he watched his brother being dressed for dinner.

  The valet emerged from behind the armoire doors and presented his master with a choice of two waistcoats to wear. Richard took one look at them and his mind was set. “Not the gold one; the green will do. The last thing I want this evening is to appear to have taken pains in dressing for dinner and, God forbid, look pleased to see our guests.” From behind him, he heard Edward laugh again. “What’s so amusing?”

  “You are.”

  Richard did not look at his brother but surveyed his image in the looking glass as the valet fastened the buttons on the waistcoat he now wore. “Are you going to tell me that you are pleased to dine with Mama’s doctor and that interminable bore of a know-it-all daughter of his?” he scowled, as Edward swirled the brandy round the snifter, chuckling to himself.

  “Not at all, I assure you. I am aware of Mama’s design. She means to marry the girl off to either one of us or for us to introduce the lass to one of our friends—an injury I will not inflict on any one of them. However, brother dear, I can at least make a pretence of being pleased to see them, and,” he looked up with mock surprise, “I may even bring myself to enjoy the evening.”

  Now it was Richard’s turn to laugh. “I see you are mocking me. Go ahead, but we shall see. I guarantee that after two hours of the Colemans’ company, even you will be yawning and desperate for a reason to be excused.”

  “I daresay you are correct, brother, but in the very least, I will try. We owe it to Mama.”

  Richard shrugged his shoulders as his valet assisted him into his tailcoat. “Your sentiments are admirable, I am sure, Edward, but I cannot duplicate them. It is not in my nature.”

  “Aye, that is true, but it does not follow that you will be discourteous.”

  “Not at all!” Richard turned and looked at Edward. “I may not like Doctor Coleman and his daughter but I, too, will do my duty by Mama.” He picked up his brandy. “It seems to me she is the only person in this family who can tolerate the pair of them.”

  Edward stood and joined his brother by the looking glass and chinked his glass against Richard’s as the elder slipped his feet into his shoes. “Then here’s to doing our duty by Mama, for which may she be eternally grateful.”

  Richard smirked but joined in the toast all the same. The time to descend and await their guests in the drawing room was nearing.

  Edward returned to the wing chair while watching Richard as he perched on the edge of the chaise longue opposite him. “You look tired.”

  Richard nodded, “Yes, I am.” He sighed. “As you are well aware, Napoléon has increased his patrols along our shipping routes. The demand for spices from Ceylon does not diminish because we are at war, you know.”

  “What has happened?” Edward sat up straight.

  “We fear another ship has been sunk,” he sighed deeply.

  “Damn Bonaparte!” Edward tutted and huffed in frustration.

  “It’s a disaster we can ill afford. Ceylon is still in the hands of the Dutch, and the Dutch are the French until Wellington defeats them.”

  Edward nodded gravely as Richard spoke.

&nbs
p; “Our ships were coming in through the Mediterranean, but now they have to run the greater risk of sailing past the Cape of Good Hope, where, as you know, the Spanish lie in wait for them.”

  “What will you do?”

  “There is a lot of talk of moving operations to Kerala, India. It’s British-owned, but we will still, though to a lesser extent, risk losing our ships on the way there and back.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  Richard grunted. “From Westminster?”

  Edward spread his hands. “My offer of help is genuine.”

  “Why ever did you become a politician when you could have come to work for me?”

  “Precisely that, dearest brother,” his pale, boyish face grinned at Richard. “I could never have borne working for such a boss.”

  Richard shook his head and sipped his brandy. “In all seriousness, why?”

  “For you. For us. Mostly for us.”

  Richard frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Very well. Because of men like Wilberforce.”

  Richard frowned as he tried to place the name. “William Wilberforce? The man who wants to abolish slavery?”

  “The very same.” Edward leant back in his chair. “Change will happen. Men will always strive for enlightenment, and with it comes change, brother.”

  “Spoken like a politician, unintelligible. Now, kindly translate what you said into English.”

  Edward laughed. It made Richard smile. No matter what the situation, Edward always appeared to be at ease. He envied that in him. “What I mean is Wilberforce’s ideas, despite challenging the long-held status quo, are gaining supporters, and his campaign is gaining momentum. I foresee a day, Richard, when slavery will be abolished, and we, those who are rich on the backs of slaves—as Wilberforce puts it—will have to decide where we stand or fall.”

  “And you intend to stand with him or against him?”

  “With.”

  Richard sputtered on his brandy. “What? Are you insane? How else are we to obtain spice to trade?”

  Edward smiled. “In the same way, but the workers will be freemen and paid for their efforts.”

  “You want to be careful, Edward, or you will acquire a reputation as a rebel with talk like that.” He looked his brother in the eye. “Is the Slave Trade Act not enough?”

  “While it is now illegal to trade slaves within the Empire, slavery is still rife. Wilberforce will not stop until every man under British rule is free.”

  “Admirable, I am sure, but he clearly has no notion of the damage he is doing to businesses like ours.”

  “You make enough to support paying freemen, and you know it.”

  “Not while Bonaparte’s ships sink ours.”

  Edward laughed again. “You know the Navy’s patrols along the coast of West Africa have been increased to catch slave traders. You must pray for their protection.”

  “You think it will happen, then?”

  “Yes. There is such Christian passion in his campaign—All men are created equal and there is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus,” he quoted.

  All Richard could do was nod. He could not argue with scripture. No matter how it made him feel, he, too, was certain that Wilberforce and his followers would get their way and all British subjects would be free within their lifetime. He stood. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

  Together the brothers exited Richard’s room and descended the grand marble staircase to the drawing room, where they found their mother, Edwina, awaiting them with their youngest brother, Louis.

  “Mama.” Edward kissed her on the cheek and turned to Louis, “Little brother, how goes it in Oxford?”

  As the two brothers settled down for a tête-à-tête, Richard embraced his mother. “Good evening, Mama.”

  She gripped his arm tightly and pulled him to sit beside her. “I have a need to speak with you.”

  “Of course. What is it?”

  “I wish to receive guests and must discuss it with you.”

  “Mama,” Richard smiled affectionately at her, “you do not need to discuss such matters with me. If you wish to invite your friends, you may. This may be my house now, but it remains your home.”

  She shook her head. “You misunderstand me, son. I have invited guests from India to stay.”

  The smile fell from Richard’s face. “India?”

  “Yes. George Hayward.”

  Richard instantly recognised the name. “The plantation owner?”

  “Indeed. He is preeminent in southwestern India, and I felt it prudent to invite him to stay once I heard that he would be visiting England this month.”

  “Indeed?” Richard could hardly speak. His mother was interfering in business yet again. She promised that she would not do so once he took over after his father’s death. Richard had fought long and hard to wrest the spice import business from his mother’s control—she had become accustomed to running it as his father’s health declined. Now she was doing it again, and Richard could feel his anger rise.

  She laid her hand on his and looked into his eyes. “You must understand, my son, that I wish only the very best for you and your brothers. That is why I took it upon myself to invite Mr Hayward to Emberton Hall. Should you gain him as a friend, perhaps you could then secure his plantation and move away from Ceylon to safer shores that are patrolled by the British Navy.”

  “Mama, you ought to have spoken to me before you took this decision. I am determined to continue obtaining spices from Ceylon,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  “At what expense?”

  “Mama,” Richard’s voice was hard and warning.

  “I am only thinking of your future, my dear.”

  “I would thank you to stay out of my business affairs, Mother.” Richard growled at her. She looked wounded. Richard relented and sighed. “Just speak to me first in the future.” She smiled weakly at him, and he leant forward and kissed her forehead.

  Doctor and Miss Coleman’s timely arrival diffused the tension between Richard and his mother. Edwina Emberton rose and moved forward to greet her guests as the butler escorted them into the room and announced them. “My dear Doctor Coleman, it is so good to see you this evening.” As one, they all curtseyed and bowed in greeting. “Miss Coleman, how delightful you look.” Again, they bowed and curtseyed.

  “Thank you, Mrs Emberton. My dress is new.”

  “My word!” Edwina exclaimed in what Richard knew to be her mock-interest voice. “How lovely it is!” She waved her fan at Richard as she surveyed the young lady’s dress. “Richard, see to it that our guests have refreshment.”

  Richard bowed, “Yes, Mama.”

  Edwina linked her arm through Miss Coleman’s and, as Richard turned to ask Doctor Coleman what he would like, he heard his mother say, “My dear, next time you decide to purchase a new dress, you really ought to call on me. I would be more than delighted to offer my assistance. I know all the best warehouses, and I am certain we could obtain some fine silks and satins at the best of prices.”

  Inwardly Richard groaned. The poor girl, despite being his mother’s goddaughter, was the daughter of a doctor, not some rich debutante in desperate need of opulent gowns.

  He saw to it that their guests were comfortable and then returned to the settee to watch the goings-on. Their mother was encouraging Louis to speak about Oxford and suggesting that Miss Coleman might like to meet some of his gentleman friends. Richard shook his head slightly and inside felt deeply sorry for the poor girl. His mother had no notion that she was giving the girl ideas above her station. If she married well, it would be a miracle, but most of the gentlemen that Louis was friends with would be required to marry ladies of means, if not heiresses. The only sense in which they might look twice at a young woman such as Miss Coleman would be to use her, not to marry her.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he looked at Docto
r Coleman, who was nodding and smiling in agreement with Mrs Emberton’s every suggestion for the improvement of his daughter. Why did the man not speak up? Did he believe that she could indeed attract the attentions of such gentlemen beyond her social standing? Richard determined to speak to his mother on the subject. She ought not to persist in such a way. It was cruel to the girl.

  Dinner was announced. Richard escorted Miss Coleman into the lavishly appointed dining room and the large dining table and seated her opposite her father and next to his mother. His mother never distinguished between a small party of guests and a lavish dinner party. Dinner guests were dinner guests regardless of who they are, she often said. The walls were papered in a deep claret red and covered in paintings of the English countryside. Richard liked this room. It felt comfortable and cosy to him, despite its grand dimensions. The dining table, a beautiful old-fashioned Queen Anne suite, seated twelve or fourteen when extended. However, Richard had never known dinner parties that large to be thrown at Emberton Hall. The largest party he remembered was ten to dine, who were joined by another four afterwards. Their father, the late Mr Richard Louis Emberton, was gifted the table and chairs upon the occasion of his marriage, and it remained a beloved piece of furniture. Richard, when he was younger and had eaten too much, liked to slip off his shoes and rest his feet on cold wood of table’s claw feet.

  He was snapped out of his reverie by Miss Coleman’s voice.

  “… so Papa and I rarely eat formally at home, you see.”

  He smiled down at her. He felt embarrassed and more than a little ashamed of himself. If only there was a way to help the girl out. She seemed so unsuited to such opulence as that in which she found herself now, and she appeared to be so uncomfortable with it too. “Don’t you worry about that. You are at home here.” His words were intending to allay her fears, but she looked far more agitated at them, as though he had said something threatening.