BY ELIZABETH ELLEN CARTER
The Four-to-One Fancy
ONLY BROTHERS WILL DO FOR LILY AND IVY
A story in the Bluestocking Belles’ anthology Desperate Daughters featuring a line-up of best-selling international authors.
The Bluestocking Belles is a group of historical romance authors who write an annual short story anthology. A major hit over the years, the 2022 entry is Desperate Daughters.
Love against the odds
The Earl of Seahaven desperately wanted a son and heir but died leaving nine daughters and a fifth wife. Cruelly turned out by the new earl, they live hand-to-mouth in a small cottage.
The young dowager Countess’s one regret is that she cannot give Seahaven’s dear girls a chance at happiness.
When a cousin offers the use of her townhouse in York during the season, the Countess rallies her stepdaughters.
They will pool their resources so that the youngest marriageable daughters might make successful matches, thereby saving them all.
So start their adventures in York, amid a whirl of balls, lectures, and al fresco picnics. Is it possible each of them might find love by the time the York horse races bring the season to a close?
Excerpt
Silence fell between the twins for good long minutes before Ivy asked. “What kind of gentleman would you like to marry?”
Iris considered the question a moment before shrugging a shoulder.
“He must be kind. I’d like him to be handsome. Most of all, he must love family because I would want you to visit me often.”
“That worries me as much as not finding husbands,” Ivy confessed. “What if we do? We would marry and be apart for the first time in our lives.”
The notion caused Iris to stop. She turned to her sister.
“I… I can’t imagine not seeing you every day,” she said.
They remained there on the pavement, each lost in their own thoughts.
“Do you think there may be brothers in attendance?”
“There might,” said Iris, tilting her head. “We would need to see an invitation list to be sure. Why do you ask?”
Ivy raised her chin in firm resolve. “It is the only way forward. By marrying brothers, we would be sure to see each other more often than if we married anyone else. We have to marry brothers. It is the only way.”
The twins found the stationers. They sought out the most colorful paper in stock and tallied it up. It was slightly more than they could afford.
While the clerk looked at them expectantly, Iris and Ivy exchanged a glance. Each knew what the other was thinking—they had a few coppers they’d intended to spend on new paint brushes. If they reused the ones they brought with them, they could afford it.
Ivy pushed the paint brushes aside on the counter and handed over the coins for the paper.
Now the basket was exceedingly heavy. Each twin took the handle, carrying the load between them. It was awkward, but it was the only way it could be done.
Iris returned to her contemplation.
Brothers.
Yes! That was the only solution. She and Ivy would simply have to find brothers to marry. Surely it stood to reason male siblings of suitable standing would attend this season. After all, there was a clutch of Bigglesworth sisters in York, should there not be a goodly number of families with an equally large number of sons?
“You never told me what kind of husband you would like,” Iris asked her sister.
Ivy cocked her head. “In truth, I’ve not given it much thought. Like your dream beau, he must be kind and must love you as much as I love you.”
“How do you think you’ll know him?”
“I think it will be in his eyes.”
“I think it will be in his kiss,” whispered Iris.
Ivy’s mouth dropped open a moment before she giggled. “A kiss,” she said. “Yes, I would certainly think that would do it.”