Midnight Bride (34 page)

Amelia sat up again. "You look lovely. And if you are out of place, so are the rest of us." She settled her dress about her, the lovely soft blue reflecting the blue of the sky. "What
modiste
made your dress?"

The next few minutes were spent discussing clothes, the gown Elizabeth was wearing in particular. "And where did she find the material?" Amelia picked up a fold to run the sheer cream-colored muslin, so fine it felt like silk, through her hands.

"She did not say. I suppose it was smuggled. But I feel certain my
spencer
is made of the finest English wool," Elizabeth said, laughing, not in the least dismayed.

"And good French embroidery by the look of these tiny stitches.
Convent bred at least." Amelia was inspecting the design sewn onto Elizabeth's sleeve. "She is just the one I want to make me a special dress."

"For the prince's ball?"

"No, for something much more private," her friend said with a wicked laugh. Her light blue eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Amelia, what are you plotting now?"

"Never, my dear.
You are too innocent to hear," Amelia said, her eyes sparkling even more as she watched her husband look around for her. "John, we are over here," she called.

Elizabeth stood up hastily, letting her skirts cover the silk stockings that matched her gown. Her cheeks, already pink from the sun, glowed with color. Dunstan, who had followed Lord
Ravenwood
, smiled as he saw her. He walked quickly to where she stood.

He had just taken her hand in his when Louisa
Beckworth
appeared. "The servants have everything ready. Come, fill your plates," she said, smiling at them.

"May I be your escort, Elizabeth?" Dunstan asked as he watched her friends lead the way.

"With pleasure, Lord Dunstan."
"Robert," she whispered in her mind, but she was too shy to say it aloud. He filled her plate for her with fruit, a slice of ham, and fresh tiny peas with mint. Seeing her comfortably seated, he returned with his own, filled almost to overflowing.

"Are you hungry, my lord?" she asked, curious that he could eat so much without gaining an ounce.

"Starved."
His deep blue eyes gazed into hers, making it clear he was not talking about food, willing her to answer him. She blushed and turned her attention to her plate once more. "Long walks along the beach at night give me an appetite."

"Do you go alone? Isn't it dangerous?"

"No. I have yet to see anyone. But I admit I stay close to the town."

"Why have you taken up walking, my lord?"

"Because I cannot sleep."
He let his long eyelashes drift over his eyes for a moment, took a bite, and chewed for a while. Then he said quietly, "A beautiful lady haunts me." He smiled.

Quickly her eyes returned to her almost empty plate. She did not remember eating anything. "Is there only one? I have watched you dance with several," she said huskily. Then embarrassed by her behavior, she lowered her eyes. Later she glanced up shyly, using her eyelashes to hide behind. "Are you angry with her?" she finally asked, her voice trembling slightly. She waited in anticipation as he finished his food. He took their plates and handed them to a servant. Then he sat down beside her again. Across the lawn, several similar scenes were taking place. Gentlemen and ladies sat together, laughing and talking. Amelia whispered something to John, and he kissed her cheek.

Elizabeth longed to smooth the slight wrinkle from the dark blue sleeve in front of her. But she hesitated. The silence grew. Then Dunstan cleared his throat. "I am not angry with the lady," he said finally. "But I am impatient." She looked up at him in wonder. "Soon I will have to return to my usual life even if she has not given me an answer." He paused for a moment, hoping that she would say something. When she did not, he continued. "My grandfather and my superior both demand to see me."

"When do you leave?" she asked, a little of her joy in the day dimmed.

"Not today or even tomorrow. I hope to persuade my lady to accept my suit before I go." It was the closest he had come to asking her to marry him in weeks.

Elizabeth sat there, her eyes staring into his dark blue ones. She opened her mouth. "Elizabeth, Mama said to tell you it is time to leave," Charles said as he walked up, totally oblivious to the scene he had just interrupted.

Dunstan stood up reluctantly and offered Elizabeth his hand. He pulled her up, letting her rest against him for a moment before releasing her. "Will you think about it, please?" he whispered in her ear, letting his lips touch it caressingly. She shivered slightly and nodded. Beside the carriages where they waited, the two older women smiled. Amelia, glancing around to make certain they had all of her son's toys, let her eyes linger on the pair speculatively for a moment.

At the ball that evening Dunstan dreamed. He had made his plans. He had the supper dance. After completing the dances that his good manners required, he stood quietly, his eyes following Elizabeth. As he waited impatiently for his first dance with her, he reviewed his decision. He was certain she had been ready to give him the answer he wanted that morning.

Midway through the evening Elizabeth had chosen to sit out a dance, wilting into a chair while her escort fetched her a glass of punch. Her hostess, like the prince, feared the night air; therefore the ballroom was overheated. Elizabeth watched Dunstan move through the graceful dance, his figure elegant and supple. Totally absorbed, she did not at once glance up when someone sat beside her.

"Miss
Beckworth
," a man said. He watched her start.

"Mr. Hartley. When did you arrive?" She looked
about the room for her brother, but he was dancing. Elizabeth straightened her shoulders, wondering why a man whom she had asked to leave her home should be paying attention to her. He made her nervous.

"Earlier today.
Do me the honor of the next dance, Miss
Beckworth
." Hartley's request was more a command.

"My next dance is taken, sir."

He let a small frown crease his brow. "Then the next," Hartley demanded.

"My card is full, sir.
Perhaps the next time."
Elizabeth smiled, but it obviously was a dismissal.

"Full and sitting out a dance," he muttered as he left her. He walked across to the punch bowl and turned to face her again, displeasure in every line of his face. His eyes widened as he watched a young officer hand her a cup and take a seat next to her. They widened even more when they saw who her next partner was. "Lord Dunstan."

The lady standing near him turned and smiled at him.
"Such a handsome man.
And so in love," she said as if in reply. "We look anxiously for an announcement every day. They make a lovely couple. Don't you agree?" Hartley nodded, his eyes searching the room. Finally he found the person he was seeking and made his escape.

"Charles. We have been missing you in London," he said as he pounded his friend on the back.

"Hartley.
I wondered when you would arrive."

"We were taking bets on whether you had convinced your mother to buy you your colors and had gone to the Peninsula without a word to anyone," Hartley said, watching to see the younger man's reaction. Charles stiffened. "London has been devilishly dull without your wit."

As usual when he began thinking about the army, Charles's face darkened. "She still will not hear of it. The Tenth is here in Brighton, though. Some of Elizabeth's
coterie have
taken me under their wings, shown me around." Charles looked around the floor, finding his sister in Dunstan's arms. "As soon as she accepts him, I will be on my way," he promised.

"Accepts him? What do you mean?"
Hartley asked, his face carefully composed.
He had known that Elizabeth was in Brighton, supposedly untouched by scandal. But he had not expected to find Dunstan there.
Or
so accepted by the family.

"He offered months ago. But she refuses to give him his answer. He has my mother's and my blessing already. All he needs is hers." Charles smiled broadly. "Even Edgerton has given up all hope."

"Edgerton?"

"Her former
fiancé.
Returned to England this spring and expected Elizabeth to be willing to marry him again," Charles said. His voice was filled with indignation.

"And where is this
fiancé
now?" Hartley asked, his voice cool and calm, although his heart was beating as if he had run a race.

"Former
fiancé.
He is still here, and everyone is talking about him. His top loft is empty if he thinks Elizabeth will have him. Just making a spectacle of
himself
and embarrassing her."

"I must congratulate you on your expert maneuvers, Charles," Hartley said as warmly as he could. "I never believed you would succeed." Without me, he added to himself.

"Will you be in Brighton long, Sebastian?" Charles asked, his eyes searching the floor for the lady who had promised him a dance.

"As long as it is amusing," Hartley said, a wicked smile playing about his lips.

As the music stopped, Charles gave him their direction and then hurried away. Hartley stayed where he was for a moment, watching as Dunstan escorted Elizabeth to another man, a tall redhead. He turned to go into the card room, but out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone else staring at her, anger in her eyes. Casually, as though he were searching for someone, he walked across the room to her side. Taking the seat next to her, he once again searched the floor, finding Elizabeth dancing. He sighed heavily.

"Is there something wrong, sir?" the older lady asked, eager to be the first with the latest gossip.

"I had hoped to dance with Miss
Beckworth
."

"The lady's card is filled long before the dance begins," the lady said scornfully. "And at her age too. I do not understand what Lord Dunstan and the others see in her. There are far
more lovely
and younger ladies about."

"She is popular?" Hartley's voice revealed his feigned astonishment.