Deborah M. Hathaway [Hathaway - For the Lady of Lowena (A Cornish Romance Book 2)

Copyright 2019

For the Lady of Lowena by Deborah M. Hathaway

All rights reserved.

Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed by any part or by any means without written consent of the author.

Printed in the United States of America

Published by Draft Horse Publishing

Copyright 2019 by Deborah M. Hathaway

2019 Cover Art by Cora Graphics

Cover Photo by Dan McBride Films, Inc.

First Printed Edition, September 2019

This book is a work of fiction. All character names and personalities are entirely fictional, created solely in the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.

ISBN 978-1-7334820-1-1

Table of Contents

Books by Deborah M. Hathaway

Stand Alone Novels

A Secret Fire

When Two Rivers Meet

To Warm a Wintered Heart

A Cornish Romance Series

On the Shores of Tregalwen, a Prequel Novella

Behind the Light of Golowduyn, Book Two

For the Lady of Lowena, Book Two

Belles of Christmas Series

Nine Ladies Dancing, Book Four

For my dear friend,

Rachel Hawks.

Thank you for inspiring me

to be a better writer

and for being there for me every step of the way.

Pronunciation Guide

Lowena low-WHEN-uh

Fynwary fin-WARE-ee

Gwynna GWIN-uh

Golowduyn goal-oh-DEW-in

Tregalwen treh-GAWL-when

Rudhek RUE-thek

Chapter One

Cornwall, July 1815

Bright sunshine glinted across the turquoise sea like light on glass. The incoming tide battered the rocks that stood strong near the shoreline, but the rugged pillars remained unmoved. Above, herring gulls and sparrows cried their shrill songs, anxious to have their voices heard, though the oceans roar didnt acknowledge them, nor did the wind sailing toward the land.

And yet, at the edge of the cliffside, sitting astride his chestnut horse, Mr. Frederick Hawkins did not miss a single sight or sound. His blue eyes swept across the sea as his senses hungrily took in his surroundingsthe smell of the salty water and the sound of the wind whispering in his ear.

Can you feel it, Frederick? the wind seemed to say. That is freedom.

He drew in a deep breath. Hope swarmed his soul. He could already see the carefree days he would have, the moments of pleasure he was sure to find in Cornwall, all with the mighty sea as his backdrop.

This placeit was nothing like London. There were no towering, brick buildings in sight. No carriage-filled streets. No glass windows boasting of expensive goods within shops, goods ladies and their mothers were so anxious to purchase.

No, this wasnt like London.

And he was certainly relieved because of it.

He clicked his tongue and urged his horse forward. Lets move farther down. I have an inkling you might fancy a run on the beach as much as I do.

The horse nickered in response, the wind ruffling his mane.

They moved toward the beach and the soothing movement of the water. It had been a long while since hed seen the sea. A year, to be exact. Last time, his visit had only lasted a single day.

Now he wasnt visiting. He was staying. He had purchased an estate and would remain in Cornwall for the foreseeable future. Longer, if he had the fortune of seeing this view every day.

Of course, Mother had not understood his desire to be near the sea, nor to purchase a second home, particularly in Cornwall.

You are already so busy with Dawnridge, Freddy, shed said, referring to the family estate in Bedfordshire. You hardly ever visit me in London any longer, so when will you find a spare moment for your poor mother when you have two estates to run?

I will manage fine, Mother, hed responded. And you could always come to Cornwall if you wish to see more of me.

Shed muttered some excuse then rapidly changed the subject. Unlike Frederick, she did not enjoy the idea of living in seclusion and peace, away from the noise and bustle of London. In truth, hed chosen Cornwall for that very reason, because Mother would never step foot in such an isolated county.

He loved her, of course. But every so often, a son needed time away, distance. Enough space to think for himself and make his own decisions without his mother breathing her own wishes into his ear.

Frederick rolled his neck to dispel the tension rising up his shoulders. He didnt travel over three hundred miles to have Mothers very-opiniated desires still give him a headache. In fact, hed come to Cornwall for a very different reason. And after he signed for his new estate, he would set out to accomplish his next task. The task of finding a wife.

Not any female would do. After all, Mother had thrust him into the arms of many a fine woman, both in Bedfordshire and London. He didnt want to marry just a fine woman who cared more about her clothing than the thoughts and feelings of others. He was looking for someone different, someone real. A woman who was not afraid to be herself, especially with Society watching her. A woman who was brave enough to take her boots off and feel the sand in her toes and the wind in her hair.

A womanquite like that one.

His head tilted to the side, his lips curving as he eyed the woman on the beach nearby. She lay on a purple blanket stretched out across the sand. Only her skirts were visiblea parasol blocking his view of her torso upbut her bare feet basked in the sunshine. Her stockings and footwear rested at the edge of the blanket nearby.

Was she asleep? She had to be. Otherwise she would be more bothered about the water inching closer and closer to her heels poking off the edge of her blanket.

He glanced beyond her to the far end of the sand. The beach was only accessible from his side, due to steep cliffs on the other. The waves had already reached the small formation of rocks that separated him from the woman. If she didnt move soon, the path would be completely taken by the waves.

There was nothing for it. He would have to wake her, if only to warn her of the potential danger approaching.

He rode down the rest of the sloping pathway to the beach before dismounting and looping his horses reins around a thin rock. Then he headed toward the woman, crossing over the rocks and sand.

As he approached, he regarded her, curious. She lay on her back with an unopened book on her stomach. One bare hand rested on the book while the other stretched out beside her, holding two blue gloves.

Her bonnet was placed at her side, the ribbon wrapped securely around her wrist, and the handle of her dark blue parasol was stuck deep into the sand. The fringe along the edges fluttered in the light breeze.

The woman had intended to sleep, as was evident by the precautions she had taken to not have her belongings blow away with the wind. With her footwear removed, she appeared to be very much at her leisure.

He hesitated to wake her, not wishing to disturb her obvious slumber. As the next wave reached the tip of her blanket, however, turning it a shade darker, he knew he could not prolong the inevitable.

Miss? She didnt budge. He spoke louder. Excuse me, miss?

Her body twitched. Then a gasp sounded from beneath the parasol, and she sat up right, bumping her head against the shade. Oh!

He fought off an amused grin. My apologies, miss.

Still seated, she pressed dainty fingers against her brow and turned toward him in surprise. His heart tripped. She was even prettier than hed imagined. Smooth black ringlets decorated her temples and enhanced her light, flawless skin. She squinted as she looked up at him, preventing him from noting the color of her eyes framed with thick, dark lashes.