She came a bit closer, whispering in his ear. Her warm breath upon his ear was an unsettling feeling. He could not tell whether it was good or bad.
"You have recently hatched a plan to get back the very woman that both rejected and humiliated you and yet you speak of having her look for a man who deserves her. Perhaps you should follow your own advice."
He drew away, pursing his lips. “Our situation is hardly similar.”
She laughed outright, startling their companions.
“Elizabeth, why on earth are you laughing in such a manner? This is hardly the time to be gay when Megan is suffering so.”
“Oh, I do apologise. Lord Cavendish is to blame – he was the one to make me laugh.”
Both women looked at him accusingly. To his side, he could sense that Elizabeth was silently laughing, having thrown him to the wolves.
“Lord Cavendish,” Cecilia said. “I hardly think that this is the time to be making jokes. Poor Megan bears a broken heart.”
He grimaced when Megan started to cry, her tears falling down her face to mingle with the liquid from her nose. Helpless, he looked at Elizabeth who had just masked a smile.
“Help me,” he mouthed.
She rolled her eyes but nodded. Elizabeth stretched across him to pat Megan's hand. “Do not be so emotional, Megan. Would you want your rival to see you in such a state?”
“My rival?”
“Yes, the woman who has taken the object of your affections.”
“Oh,” Megan replied. “I would hate for Cathryn to see me. Do you believe that she can?” The woman seemed quite distraught as she wiped her tears away.
“Luckily for you, no. But she could have. What do you think that she would have seen?”
“My crying?”
“Not just your crying, but a pathetic loser.”
Everyone sucked in their breath at that. Even him.
“Miss Ramsbury,” he said. “Do you not think that you are being a bit too harsh?”
She shook her head. "No, I do not. Megan is a wonderful woman, one who has much to offer. She has no need to cry over a man who picked another woman above her." Elizabeth pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here, take this and dry your face. There will be no more cries from you, do you hear?"
Megan nodded, eyes wide. She blew into his handkerchief and then proceeded to hand it back to him. He grimaced, imagining just what was inside the material.
“Keep it, Miss Hawkins. I have plenty more at home.”
“Oh, thank you, my lord.”
The change in the young woman was remarkable. She was no longer the teary-eyed victim, but a woman on the prowl. He leaned into Elizabeth. “I think that you may have created a monster. She seems intent on conquering this ball. Have you seen the look in her eyes?”
“Would you rather she be crying?”
“Heavens no.”
“Then do not complain, my lord. Let her have her moment.”
“I worry for the men out there who have yet to pick a woman to court.”
"Well, I do not. They know what they are here for and what to expect. We can just sit here and enjoy what will unfold, knowing that we do not have to take part."
She had a point there. As the night continued on, Anthony found himself genuinely enjoying Elizabeth's company. She was witty and quick-minded, making him laugh for much of their time together.
When last did I enjoy such an event? Usually, I would be running after Diana, trying to keep her happy. I never did see a problem with it until now, sitting here beside Elizabeth. This woman is opening my eyes to what can be, how things are supposed to be.
"My lord, you appear to be overthinking."
“Perhaps I am. What do you think your sister thinks of us?”
“It is too early to tell, but she has given us a few interested looks. You are quite believable, even I could be fooled if I was not part of the plan.”
That surprised him. He had not even been trying to act like an interested suitor. He had just been enjoying her company, sitting beside her as she spoke to him like an old friend.
Soon after, a couple, whom Elizabeth introduced as her aunt and uncle, declared that it was time to retire for the night.
Just as well, thought Anthony. I need time to gather my wits about me.
He escorted the sisters to their carriage, taking care to spend time talking to Elizabeth and focusing his attention on her. He needed as many people to see them as possible.
"Miss Ramsbury, I bid you a good night. I hope to call on you soon."
“I should like that, Lord Cavendish.”
She winked at him, startling him. This woman was full of surprises, He was certainly not expecting that. He quickly recovered, giving her a devilish smile that made her own falter. Two can play at that game. As she stood on the steps of the carriage, he took her hand and kissed it, taking his time.
By tomorrow morning, they would be the talk of London.
Chapter 7
The movement of the carriage rocked their aunt and uncle to sleep quite quickly, leaving the sisters to quietly discuss the night's events together. Cecilia kept on dropping hints about Anthony, wanting to know more about him, but Elizabeth evaded her questions at every turn. She needed to process the night herself before attempting to explain anything to her sister.
“Megan eventually attracted the admiration of quite a few suitors. I believe that it was all thanks to you, Elizabeth.”
“Hardly. She just needed a gentle push in the right direction.”
A snort of laughter issued forth from her sister's nose, a hand quickly covering her mouth as she looked at the two sleeping figures.
"It is most unladylike to snort, Cecilia."
Her sister poked her tongue. “Do not attempt to scold me for something that you are guilty of doing.”
“My snorts do not have the ability to wake up the living dead. It is a wonder that Aunt Deborah and Uncle Noah did not wake. One would think you an African elephant blowing its trunk.”
“At least I do not sound like a pig snorting through a trough of slops.”
“No, that young man that insisted on following you about sounded like that. Really, what terrible laughing.”
Cecilia looked as though she was about to return the retort, but she burst into a fit of giggles. They were ridiculously contagious as Elizabeth found herself giggling along, trying not to make a noise for the sake of the sleeping couple. She managed to compose herself enough to scold her sister.
"Do stop laughing, Ceci. What if our aunt and uncle should wake up?"
“I am trying,” she breathed. “But it is you who brought up that horrid man. I could not shake him off, despite telling him that I am soon to be betrothed to another.”
“I suppose that he believed you to be fair game as you were at the ball, and it is your first season. You can hardly blame the poor man.”
Cecilia rolled her eyes. “Do not defend the man to me. As a matter of fact, we should cease to talk about him. I swear on all that is good and righteous in the world, if I attend another ball and have him hound me once more, I shall stomp on his large feet and walk away.”
Elizabeth could imagine her sister doing just that. She was highly impulsive and given to theatrics without much filter. Of course, she could also see the potential consequences of such a public display of anger.
“You would have our names blackened by your antics? He did say that his father's brother's friend has an uncle who works for the brother of the man who apparently has the ear of the prince regent.”
Cecilia's jaw dropped. “You recalled all of that? I could hardly keep the relations straight, let alone keep track of what he was saying. What a pompous fool.”
Elizabeth tapped her head, smiling. “I do have a long memory, remember that. Ceci, would you have your childish display reported to those higher in power? You must remember that our father is not a titled man, and while he is fifth in line to become a baronet, that will h
ardly matter to the aristocracy. The gentleman probably thought he was doing you a favour by speaking to you.”
Her sister pulled her head back, her hand going to her chest. What a dramatic sister she was. “A favour? Suffering his jabbering is a favour to me?”
Elizabeth recalled that the man had talked rather quickly, as though he were trying to get as many of his points across as possible. Poor Cecilia, who was one to grow bored quickly, had listened to him for at least half an hour with little interruption. If it had not been for Anthony, the man would have never left her alone.
“Lady Luck smiled down upon you as Lord Cavendish was able to politely remove him from our little group. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Megan's suitors.”
The men had stuck around Megan for quite some time, paying her compliments and engaging her in small conversation. Elizabeth had eventually become suspicious of their motives when some of the men had started to send curious looks her way, their gazes heavy with interest. Anthony had noticed as well, going as far as to bring his chair closer to hers, and leaning in to speak with her. This had displayed his thoughtfulness, which she had appreciated at that moment. The last thing that she had wanted was a group of men all clamouring to speak with her. She had enough on her mind as it was.
“Lord Cavendish certainly came to the rescue. It was our good luck that he decided to sit with us when there were so many women all wishing to speak with him. You monopolised a great deal of his time, sister dear. I wonder how you managed to do that when you hardly speak with the male gender in general?”
Elizabeth did not answer, knowing full well that anything she said would be used against her in the future. Her sister was a master manipulator of words and could twist the most innocent of meanings into something dramatically incorrect. Instead, Elizabeth inspected her glove, holding it up in the air, and removing imaginary fluff.
“Well, that is one way of avoiding a conversation. However, you cannot avoid it forever, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth smiled at her sister, fluttering her eyelashes before making a point to look out of her window. She waited for a few heartbeats to see if her sister would be persistent in her plan to find out the story behind her and Anthony's budding romance. Or false romance for that matter. When her sister did not speak, she sneaked a glance at her. She, too, was looking out of her carriage window, watching shadows of buildings, as they travelled back to the townhouse. Usually it would be trees that they would watch as they travelled home from a dinner, and perhaps the odd owl here and there. What a night this had been. Elizabeth would have never thought that it would take such a course. She was not yet entirely sure what to make of it. Perhaps she had dreamt it all? She pinched herself, wincing at the pain.
“No, not asleep.”
“Hmmm?” Cecilia questioned. “Did you say something?”
“Oh, no, no. I was merely speaking to myself.”
Cecilia raised her eyebrows before turning to the window once more. “And that is why you do not fit into society,” she muttered.
Elizabeth would have laughed if her mind was not so occupied with thoughts of the baron. He was willing to go to extreme lengths to have that woman return to him, but at what cost? She would have never thought to create such an elaborate plan of secrecy and illusion just to win back a lost love. A false courtship? She had never heard of such a thing before, but here she found herself neck-deep in such a peculiar plot.
Elizabeth could not understand why Diana had rejected the baron. Anthony had treated her with nothing but respect and kindness. Surely that was what most women wanted? She could not deny that he was handsome. Perhaps a tad too much. He was easily the most handsome man at the ball, which was why she’d received so many jealous stares from the other women present. Where she found most men rather dull, Anthony was anything but. In fact, he had surprised her with his knowledge of numerous topics and his open-mindedness concerning most subjects. He was intelligent, wonderfully so. She never did imagine that she would come across a gentleman of his class with such intelligence and Elizabeth had met plenty of young men who had studied further than the schoolroom, but it was their narrow mindedness that dulled their intelligence. Anthony was a breath of fresh air compared to them.
“Much needed air,” she muttered.
Did he enjoy music? They did not discuss music much, except for her passion to become a composer. He seemed encouraging of her passion. Not once did he judge her or ridicule her dreams. It had been so easy to speak to him, both sharing their intentions for their lives. Anthony's entire life seemed to be centred upon Diana, which Elizabeth found unhealthy. No one could be happy when they obsessed over someone in that manner. The woman rejected him and publicly humiliated him, for goodness sake. How much self-esteem could he have to continue to pursue her? Apparently enough to fill the ocean, because he was adamant that he was going to marry her some day.
It was one thing to be rejected in private, but to have the love of your life retell your proposal in harrowing detail and proceed to laugh about it as though it were a joke was simply too much to handle. It showed that she did not respect him. Why could he not see that? If she would not respect him now, what could he expect for their marriage? A one-sided love would not sustain a long-term marriage, it simply could not. Part of Elizabeth was angry for Anthony, angry at Diana for treating such a good man horrendously. He had even gone so far as to relate to her the reason Diana had rejected him.
“He is far from being serious and boring. The thought.”
"Elizabeth!” her sister scolded. “If you insist on muttering to yourself, then do so quietly. There is nothing worse than to hear someone constantly muttering words that do not make any sense."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Do I complain about your incessant night chatter?”
“Night chatter?”
“Yes. You mumble in your sleep, and yet I do not wake you up and begin scolding you.”
Cecilia looked affronted. “I do no such thing.”
"If you will not believe me, then I suggest that you remember my words for when you are married. Percy will be sure to tell you the very same thing."
Cecilia narrowed her eyes. “What a horrid thing to say.”
“And yet I am not the one who scolded the other for talking below their breath. None of us is perfect, Ceci. It is best that you remember that. However, I hardly believe that my quiet murmurs should make much difference to your life. You are splitting hairs all because I shall not discuss anything of the baron and I with you.”
Cecilia folded her arms, pouting. “Very well. I shall keep to this side of the carriage and mind my words.”
Cecilia proceeded to sniff and look away, her hand going to her chin. Elizabeth knew that it was merely one of Cecilia's tactics to attempt to make her feel bad. But she was far too preoccupied to be concerned about her sister's childish ways. She shifted in her seat, turning her body away from Cecilia to look outside. Looking inside the carriage was not bringing her any clarity but gazing out into the darkness was doing her wonders. Where had she been? Oh, yes, the baron supposedly being boring. She had heard about Diana's wild ways, her overexaggerated joie de vivre. Elizabeth loved life as well, but perhaps she loved it in a different way to the flighty woman.
I should not be so judgemental for I do not personally know her.
Elizabeth prided herself on being a good judge of character, but as she had not met Diana personally, there still remained a sliver of doubt that people could be wrong about her. The problem was, there were simply too many slights against her not to entertain the idea that she was not the sort of woman that Elizabeth could get along with or would wish to get along with. Or perhaps she was just jealous that such a woman could treat a wonderful man so horribly and yet still hold his affection.
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 39