Mistress of Wyndview (Wynd Brothers #1)

At the age of eight and twenty, Sterling Wynd, Earl of Wyndham, left England.

Duty weighed heavily on him, and solemnity filled his soul. However, before he turned thirty, chose a suitable wife and went about begetting heirs, he wanted to do something for himself—see the world. Or at least the part that had made his family wealthy.

Caroline Sutcliffe had once loved deeply. She’d married quickly and her husband soon went off to war. But after receiving word of his death, and finding herself alone, she returned to her father and the Cape Good Hope to carve out a new life for herself and her daughter.  

She had not expected to meet a handsome English Lord filled with duty and in possession of so little humor. Further, she could not understand why she was drawn to him. Yet, Caroline knew that she could love Sterling deeply and passionately, but she feared he was not capable of either.

Will Sterling find a way to open his heart and let go of his control or will he lose the one woman who could fill the emptiness within?

Chapter One

Cape Colony, January, 1817

Trepidation filled his entire being as the coastline and port grew closer in view. Sterling Wynd, Earl of Wyndham, had not suffered such discomfort when he boarded the ship in Southampton, nor when he traveled the length of France and Italy, sailed to Greece, and then back to Spain, where he trekked across land again and through Portugal. His unease only began when he boarded this last ship—the one bound for Cape Town. Now, seeing the lush, green landscape, beaches without end, bright flora and fauna, and Table Mountain in the distance, he should have been awed and amazed. Instead, his stomach knotted. He knew who waited, but was uncertain of the reception he would receive, or how he would greet her.

Once he disembarked the ship, Sterling hired a man with a wagon to take him to Wyndview Farm, the place of his birth.

As they rumbled along the dirt road, he looked out over the landscape, once familiar and hardly changed, and considered what he would say when he saw her again. Sterling had rehearsed speeches in his head several times over, but none of the words were ever right. He had but one question. Whatever answer she gave would not suffice.

As the wagon pulled up to the stately whitewashed mansion, rising two stories with long ornate gables and a high thatched roof, memories flooded him from a time when he had been happy here.

Sterling closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he prepared for the meeting before he marched forward and knocked. He was as prepared as he was ever going to be.

A moment later, it was opened by the same butler who had served the family for decades. “Hello, George.”

The man’s eyes widened as some of the color fled his cheeks. “Lord Wyndham?”

“Yes,” Sterling answered simply.

George stepped back and opened the door wider so that he could enter.

“We… well…we were not expecting you.”

That had been Sterling’s intention, but he had not anticipated the distress or perhaps panic in the old butler. George practically stammered. Odd!

Sterling stepped into the white, plastered entry, marble floors beneath his boots and glanced around. It was just as he remembered. “Where is she?”

“At the back of the house in the lavender sitting room.”

Sterling remembered it as the place she missed the most after they moved to England. She had longed for the sunlight that often filled the room, and how it caught the ocean breeze when the windows were opened and the sweet scents from the gardens set out and away from the house.

With determination, Sterling strode down the corridor, turned left and stopped just inside the door to the sitting room.

She was as he had remembered. Hair, still golden, pulled away, braided and with curls appropriate for her age, high cheekbones, narrow nose, blue eyes intelligent and questioning even as they widened in surprise at the sight of him. She had always been beautiful and a day did not go by that Sterling had not glanced at her portrait. It was nearly impossible not to since it hung over the large fireplace in the library at Wyndview Hall in Southampton.

Sterling’s heart constricted with the pain of betrayal, which he pushed aside. She was the one who had left him.

“Sterling?”

“Hello, Mother.”

***

“Lord Sterling Wynd, the Earl of Wyndham, has arrived,” George quietly informed her.

Caroline Sutcliffe paused in her writing. She could not have heard correctly.

She prayed that she had not.

She slowly looked up from the ledger where she had been calculating the costs and income for Wyndview Farm to finalize the quarterly report to be sent to Lord Wyndham at the end of the week. “What did you say?”

“Lord Sterling Wynd, the Earl of Wyndham,” he repeated.

Her heart started to pound against her chest as a tightness developed in her throat. A Wynd had not visited the property in years. Not since her family had arrived with the former Earl of Wyndham in 1806. Well, other than Lady Wyndham, who had remained behind, making Wyndview Farm her home instead of returning to England with her husband.

“Why?” Her question came out in a whispered breath.

“I do not yet know,” George answered, equally quiet.

His response only increased her anxiety.

“Where is he now?”

“With Lady Wyndham.”

Caroline nodded as her mind raced with what this could mean and what she must do.

“I am certain that he will want to be shown to his set of rooms and freshen from his voyage before asking to see your father,” George said.

Yes, of course. He was an earl, at the end of a long journey. He likely wanted nothing more than brandy and a place to relax and not be bothered by anyone while he visited with his mother. At least that gave her some time to…

Caroline groaned. No matter the amount of time to prepare, it would not be enough, especially since they did not know why he was here. “Is my father and brother still inspecting the grapes?”

“I believe so,” he answered.

“Thank you, George.” Caroline rose from the desk and quickly closed the ledgers before she put them away, then made certain that everything on the desk was put to rights and organized to her father’s preference.

Why is Wyndham here now? she asked herself as she hurried to the stables.

“I need a horse saddled,” she told the stable hand, who rushed to do her bidding. She needed to find her father and prayed that he would not be difficult and that her brother, William, would remain by his side through all interviews with the earl.

After the man brought her the horse, Caroline mounted it and took off out of the stable yard. She wasn’t dressed for riding, but time was of the essence; she did not have the luxury to return to her chamber and change into a proper riding habit.

Wyndham could not have picked a worse time to visit. They did not have time to coddle, entertain, or answer questions of a pampered lord, even if he was the owner and her father’s employer.

Of course, Caroline was assuming much, but ever since the British took over the Cape Colony in 1806, and especially after formally acquiring it in 1814, English settlers came here to buy property as well as establish businesses, which caused several of the Dutch colonists to move away. England was more interested in expanding and protecting their trade routes and didn’t even bother to learn anything about those who had made their home at the southern tip of Africa for centuries.

Was Wyndham here for a similar reason—for the benefit of Trade Wynd? Wyndview Farm, where she lived, was only a small part of the Wynd Family import and export empire since they only grew grapes and made wine to be exported.

Maybe he was only here to visit with his mother, and perhaps meet with Governor Lord Charles Somerset, as all other titled visitors and those who were a part of English Society did when they visited the area. It really did not matter to Caroline so long as he stayed out of the way.

As her horse crested a small hill, Caroline looked over the vineyard, rows of grapes that would soon be harvested for wine. The farm workers were walking down those rows and inspecting the grapes and the vines, but could find neither her father nor brother, so Caroline rode closer. She wished she would have brought her bonnet because the bright sun was in her eyes and sweat trickled down her neck and back.

“Caroline?” her brother called from three rows over. “Is all well?”

“The Earl of Wyndham is here!” she yelled back.

His brown eyes widened with alarm. “Bloody hell!”

“I agree with your assessment,” she answered, neither shocked nor disturbed by her brother’s language. “Find Father and return to the house. Wyndham is likely getting settled but I am certain he will want to speak with the estate manager.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What is there for me to do?” she asked innocently. “I am simply a widow who returned to her father and family home.”

William snorted. “If Wyndham believes you are nothing more than described, then he is a bigger fool than I ever imagined.”

She could only hope that he was, otherwise, there was a risk that her father would lose his position, and they would all lose their home.

The Earl of Wyndham needed to believe that she was nothing more than an unassuming daughter of his estate manager. An estate manager who only cared about growing and harvesting grapes and making wine while she managed all other aspects of Wyndview Farm.

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