Fenella J. Miller (8 page)

He didn’t answer, merely smiled, and for the rest of the set they laughed and talked of commonplaces like everyone else. When the final strains were played, he bowed and she sank into a deep curtsy. He raised her hand and slipped her arm through his. “Shall we sit the next dance out? There will be another waltz in a while and I would like to return for that.”

They strolled, with the other couples who were leaving the floor, to one side of the ballroom.

She was pleased to be able to exchange pleasantries with neighbours she’d not seen for more than two years. The Hartfords and their cronies remained grouped together, muttering and sending dark looks in her direction. So far she and Sir James had done nothing to upset the watching tabbies, but when they danced together for the third time, they
would
have something to be scandalised about.

He guided her expertly through the press of people and out into the drawing room and then they were in the empty entrance hall. When she had descended the stairs, she had not really had time to take in how lovely the decorations were. How kind of him to bring her back to admire her handiwork.

“Look up, my love, I brought you here for this.”

She tilted her head and saw they were standing directly under the beribboned bunch of mistletoe. Too late, she saw his intention — she could not escape. He transferred one hand to the back of her head whilst the other pulled her tight against him. His lips touched hers and she was lost, sent headlong into a place where anything was possible.

Her hands of their own volition slid up his jacket to bury themselves in the thick, dark hair at the back of his neck. Her feet were floating. She forgot everything, decorum and etiquette, and kissed him back. He came to his senses and gently put her back on the floor.

“There’s something most particular I wish to ask you. I think we can be private in the study.”

He grasped her hand and they ran like children down the passageway and into the deserted chamber. Strangely, there was a fire burning, the room was warm and there was a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes standing on a silver tray in the middle of the desk ready for them. (So
that
was what he had been talking to the footman about.)

She was unable to do more than smile; she had no words to express her joy. Before she could regain her breath she was in his arms again and this time she knew exactly what to do. Her lips parted to receive his kiss. She had not known such pleasure existed in the world, that a gentleman’s attention could send her pulses racing and make her head spin with excitement.

Unexpectedly she was being carried across the room; this was a night for new experiences and surprises.

“I wish you to sit here, my love.” His brow creased. “Will it damage your beautiful gown to do so?”

“I care not if it does for I am quite prepared to sit on the floor if that’s what you wish me to do.”

He lowered her into one of the battered armchairs, his smile wicked. “Perhaps we can both do so later on, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks turned scarlet. He was outrageous, but she was safe in his company. He would never take advantage of her in any way. She occupied herself by smoothing out the folds of her skirts whilst she recovered her composure. This done, she straightened and waited expectantly for what she was certain would come next.

His face was serious, his beautiful blue eyes holding her captive. As he dropped to one knee, he took her hands in his and raised them to his mouth. He kissed each fingertip in turn before resting them against his pounding heart.

“Miss Baverstock, Elizabeth, my darling love — will you do me the inestimable honour of agreeing to be my wife? I know we have been acquainted barely four days but when I saw you coming down the stairs tonight I realised how much I loved you.”

Slowly she withdrew her hands. “Not until then? I wonder, why was that?”

“Your true beauty was hidden under the hideous garments you were wearing. I did not see you clearly until then.”

“What we have said and done this evening is make-believe, Sir James. You do not truly love me; you have been carried away by the enchantment of it all. Fortunately for you I shall not hold you to your offer, but I wish you had not done this. I wish we could have had one more waltz before harsh reality reclaimed me.”

Before he could deny her words, she was on her feet and out through the open door. He called her back, but she was through the hidden door that led to the back stairs before he emerged from the study. With her heart breaking, she stumbled along the twisting corridors in the pitch darkness, eventually finding her bedchamber after more than half an hour. She was determined to leave the next morning come what may. The fact it would be Christmas Eve made no difference. She would not remain another night under this roof where she had known nothing but unhappiness these past two years.

J
AMES
S
TARED
D
OWN
T
HE
empty corridor, shaking his head in bemusement. Where had she gone? Had she returned to join the party or retreated to her rooms? What maggot had got into her lovely head to cause her to refuse his offer? Surely she must understand he had compromised her by kissing her so publicly, by dancing so close together? He would not take no for an answer.

He was about to return to the festivities to see if he could find his missing partner when two figures hurried around the corner, almost colliding with him. “Bloomfield, Miss Culley, I had not expected to see you in this part of the house tonight.”

“We have been looking for you, young man, come into the study where we can be private.”

The older man took in the scene at a glance. “Good, I hoped this was what you had intended. I offer you my sincere congratulations on your betrothal. Where is Miss Baverstock? I think it would be wise if you kept her close, there’s a good deal of unpleasantness heading her way.”

“Elizabeth turned me down; she refused my offer and ran away.”

Miss Culley stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Did you tell her you only understood you loved when she appeared in her wonderful gown?”

Puzzled by her query he nodded. “Yes — but how did you know?”

“You have made a sad mull of things, Sir James. Can’t you see how Elizabeth would view your statement?”

His heart sank like a stone. “She believes I have been bowled over by her appearance, that I do not love her for herself.” He turned away, ashamed he had been so shallow. Elizabeth was correct — he had not thought himself in love when she was plain. Only when her beauty was revealed had he been prompted to declare himself.

Bloomfield handed him a glass of champagne. “Drink this, my boy. All may not yet be lost.”

“But Elizabeth is right. Until she was dressed as she should be, free of her hideous garments, I thought my feelings to be that of compassion only.”

“Sir James, tell me honestly, how would you feel if you never saw Elizabeth again?” Miss Culley asked.

“That is an impossibility. However I arrived at this point, one thing I am certain of — I love her and intend to marry her. Nothing and no one shall stand in my way.”

“Excellent! Exactly what I hoped you would say. I suggest you and Bloomfield return to the fray. I shall go up and speak to Elizabeth. Her feelings are deeply wounded, Sir James. I cannot promise she will forgive you right away.”

“As long as she does so eventually, I shall be content.”

The young lady left him with Bloomfield. “I have no wish to return to be castigated and criticised. Please, my lord, feel free to go. I intend to remain in here and continue my search of the desk.”

“Actually, Sarah and I have discussed the best way forward. We think it would be helpful if you returned to the ballroom when Sarah gets back from talking to Miss Baverstock.”

James stiffened; he was not accustomed to being told what to do by anyone. He had been his own man since he came down from Cambridge to take over the title and the estates.

“Do not poker up, my boy. Don’t you see? If you and Sarah spend time together, those jumped up mushrooms who have inherited this establishment will believe you were merely flirting with a young lady who was in no position to object.”

“I understand, it will take the attention away from Elizabeth. I have no wish for her to suffer further bullying on my account. I will do it, reluctantly, but I can see the logic behind your notion.”

Whilst they waited for Miss Culley to return they sat companionably, drinking champagne and talking happily about a future when he would be married to Elizabeth and Bloomfield married to Miss Culley.

“Ned and David are taking a grand tour in the New Year. Sarah and I intend to have a quiet wedding in February. Can I ask you to stand up for me?”

“Certainly, if you will do the same when I can persuade Elizabeth to forgive me.”

Elizabeth hesitated in her dressing room; she was certain she could hear someone moving about in the chamber beyond. Had
he
had the temerity to invade her privacy in this way? Outraged, she erupted into the room to find Sarah sitting quite happily on the narrow bed.

“There you are. I was beginning to think you had got lost in that rabbit warren of passageways out there. I have come with a message from Sir James — ”

“I have no wish to hear it. He does not truly love me. Unfortunately, like many other gentlemen, he has let his passions rule his head.”

“My dear, you’re quite mistaken. He was
maladroit
in his proposal but he meant every word he said. Think about it, Elizabeth — could you have fallen head over heels in love with him in less than a day if he had been plain as a pikestaff?”

This put a different aspect to it. If he had been a homely gentleman she might well have come to love him just as much when she had got to know him better, but she would not have succumbed so easily. “It’s quite unfair, Sarah. There must be hundreds of men and women who are not as attractive as they might be, who never find the perfect partner because all the good looking people marry each other. I overreacted and foolishly turned him down. Will he ever forgive me?”

“He is saying the same thing to Bloomfield at this very moment. This will come about; you must not fret. When you leave Hartford Hall you will be his betrothed, of that much I am certain.”

Elizabeth danced around the bedroom, her happiness restored. Her perambulations ceased abruptly. “The Hartfords will be so angry. I cannot bear to think what they might say to him because of my behaviour.”

“We have thought of that. Bloomfield and I think it might be a good idea if Sir James were to pretend he was merely toying with you. I shall dance with him twice and flirt outrageously. If they think you have been slighted they will be more than pleased, with luck they will not pursue the matter further.”

“What does he think of your suggestion?”

“Bloomfield is discussing it now. If Sir James is prepared to dissemble, it will make life easier for you. I must tell you, my dear, he is determined to take you with him when he leaves.”

“I
had
decided to depart tomorrow. James promised he would take care of any staff that are dismissed, but I’m concerned when I do he will not know who it is that’s in need of help.”

Sarah headed for the door. “I should leave all that to Sir James for he is more than capable of taking care of such things. Did you know he is not only a baron but also a wealthy man?”

“I don’t know whether I’m relieved to hear you say so, as then it will make no difference I am penniless. I’m more worried I am not suitable.”

“Don’t be a pea goose, dear girl, your pedigree is better than his. You can hold
your
head up in any drawing-room in England and don’t you forget it.”

The door closed and Elizabeth was alone in her bedchamber. She was decidedly hungry. She had fully expected to be eating supper downstairs so had devoured all the food Mrs. Blake had brought her yesterday. She was reluctant to remove her ball gown. This was the most delectable confection she’d ever owned and she’d scarcely been in it for more than an hour. Far too early to be thinking about retiring. What could she do to while away the time until midnight?

It would soon be Christmas Eve, the day before the Lord’s name day. This was a day when miracles seemed possible, when one could look up into the stars and believe angels were singing somewhere high above.

She had plenty of fuel. She would relight the fires at either end of the schoolroom. After all she was all but betrothed to a formidable man; he would not let her go cold however long she was obliged to remain at Hartford Hall. If she opened the windows, she should be able to hear the music floating up from the ballroom on the ground floor. Even with no Prince Charming to hold her she would dance around the room and relive the magic of the waltz she’d had with James.

He was no longer Sir James to her, he was her beloved, and in a few weeks they could be married. Once the fires were burning brightly and the room warm enough to be comfortable, she picked up her skirts and twirled around the room. She was so happy she thought she might burst from it.

Then she felt as if a bucket of snow had been tipped over her head. She froze in horror. She would not be able to marry without Lord Hartford’s permission and he would never give it. She would not be one and twenty until November next year —

She could not possibly leave with James.

An unmarried and unchaperoned young lady could not travel with a gentleman and she certainly could not live in the same establishment as him. If he were to offer money, she would become no better than his mistress, a kept woman. They would both be permanently ostracised from society. This did not matter to her, but she could put the man she loved in such a position.

She ran the golden folds of her gown through her fingers, letting the candlelight play through the silk. There was only one way around this. She must take up her position as a governess and work with the family until she reached her majority and was free to marry. The problem with this solution was James would never agree to it. He would try and persuade her he had no care for society.

She would leave at first light tomorrow as she had originally planned to do. In this way she would be gone before he missed her. No one knew the location of her employment. She would travel to London and remain in lodgings until the day she was expected. There was a mail coach left from the King’s Head at eight o’clock each morning. If she set out at dawn, she would be there in good time.

As soon as she had completed her packing, she would write to James explaining why she’d gone, reassuring him she loved him and that she would contact him next November. If he still wished to marry her then they could be reunited. The following year was going to be long and lonely for both of them. She would not even have the comfort of receiving his letters for it would be fatal to let him know her whereabouts. He would ride pell-mell to fetch her and that would never do.

She pulled the windows closed again. Hearing the music just reminded her of what she had lost. Deciding what to take was going to be difficult for she could only take items she could carry easily. The distance to the village was almost three miles and the lane would be slippery and snow-covered. She would pack her essentials first and then see if there was room for any luxuries.

Engrossed in her packing, she did not hear the schoolroom door opening quietly. The delicious aroma of lobster patties and devilled eggs roused her from her task. She glanced over her shoulder and stared through the communicating door. Her eyes widened as first James, and then Lord Bloomfield, staggered in with laden trays.

“My darling, we could not let you starve in your lonely garret. We have bought you refreshments and wine to drink.” He deposited his burden on the school table and held out his arms. Without hesitation, she ran into his embrace.

Turning up her face, she linked her hands around his neck and waited for his mouth to cover hers. His lips this time were hard and demanding, asking something more from her, telling her how much he loved her. Her blood fizzed around her body. For the second time her knees trembled and if he had not been supporting her, she would have collapsed in a silken heap at his feet.

He raised his head and trailed hot sweet kisses across her cheek and down her neck. She tingled all over, not knowing what to expect next. To her disappointment, he stepped back, smiling down at her with love in his eyes. “That’s enough, sweetheart, we have much to discuss and a delicious supper to share with our friends.”

Only then did she remember they were not alone. Scarlet from head to toe she hid her burning cheeks in his cravat. A burst of laughter made her look round in surprise. Then she joined in the merriment; Lord Bloomfield and Sarah had been similarly occupied.

“Quite right, my boy, but food first and talk later. Ladies, if you would like to set out cutlery we shall deal with the wine and lemonade.”

Over supper, Sarah told her what had transpired downstairs in her absence. “Our ploy was successful, Elizabeth, in that it deflected the Hartfords’ anger from yourself. However, I believe Sir James is now a social outcast for playing fast and loose with the most popular girl in the neighbourhood.”

“Good gracious, they must think you are a hardened rake, James.” Her hands flew to her mouth in horror. To use his given name in her own head was permissible but she should not have spoken it out loud. “I beg your pardon, Sir James — ”

“There’s no need, my love. I wished you to call me James but thought you might be shocked if I suggested it. From now on you shall be Elizabeth to me.”

“I was going to say, James, that you will have all the rackety young widows flocking to your door.”

His eyebrows vanished beneath his hair. “And what do
you
know, Miss Baverstock, about such matters, might I ask?”

Giggling, she waved airily at him. “Although I do not go in to society myself I listen to what others tell me and I read the newspapers. There is often interesting gossip to be found on the society pages.”