Aunt Deborah flapped a hand in his direction, laughing.
"Oh, you! This is not about us, but about Elizabeth. We need to ensure that he falls head over heels in love with her. This dress will go a long way in doing so."
Would it? Anthony's heart belonged to Diana, and to her alone. The women continued to fuss over the dress, so much so that Elizabeth became quite embarrassed. All this for a dress? She mentally shook her head. Although she did not admit it out loud, she was thrilled to be going to the opera.
It will be an adventure and something that I shall undoubtedly always remember, even when he is happily married.
*
As Elizabeth walked into the large theatre, she could feel that all eyes were on her. Perhaps her hand on Anthony's arm did not help matters. Their gazes were like hot stones thrown in her direction. She was certain that they would love to pick up a stone and hurl it her direction. She giggled at the thought, drawing Anthony's attention.
“What has amused you so?”
"Nothing in particular. I just seem to be the target of many a woman's fiery gaze."
“That is to be expected. Many of these women are friends with Diana and are quite loyal to her.”
She frowned. “They do realise that she rejected you?”
He shrugged. “Such is the way of women, I suppose.”
“I ask you to not paint me with the same brush. I am nothing like these women.”
“You are right,” he agreed. “Come, let me introduce you to our companions.”
Elizabeth immediately felt butterflies flutter about her stomach. She could already deduce that they did not like her. How would they greet her? They headed in the direction of a tall, good-looking man that she recognised from the ball.
“Lord Nicholson,” Anthony called. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Ramsbury.”
The man smiled at her and took her gloved hand in his, giving her a soft kiss on her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Ramsbury.”
She dipped. “And you, Lord Nicholson.”
“Please, call me Felton.”
“Then I shall insist that you call me Elizabeth.”
He smiled and nodded his head, releasing her hand. A few women approached them, each having a look that spoke volumes.
Oh dear, they truly do not like me.
“Miss Ramsbury, I presume?” a blonde woman asked. “Lovely to meet the woman who has stolen our Anthony's attention.”
“Now Catherine, no one has stolen anything,” said Anthony. “I would say that she captivated me with her beauty and intelligence.”
“Beauty and intelligence? How... nice,” she said. “I was not aware that you were able to find women like Miss Ramsbury in the countryside. Where have you been hiding?”
“The countryside,” Elizabeth answered.
“Oh, they do make them sturdy there, do they not?” another woman said. “You are wonderfully different.”
Elizabeth could hear the sarcasm in the woman's words. If they had claws, they would have enjoyed scratching my eyes out.
“Beatrice,” said Felton. “A good month in the countryside would do you some good. Put some healthy colour back in your cheeks.”
Elizabeth drew her lips in, trying not to laugh. She looked at Felton and nodded her thank you. At least he appeared to like her.
“Anthony,” Catherine called. “I was not aware that you were looking elsewhere. So many young women will be quite disappointed that we have lost one of our own to a sweet, little... normal girl.”
The woman's meaning was clear enough. Elizabeth was not good enough for Anthony, likely because her father held no title. However, it was odd how they referred to the countryside as though they did not go there themselves. Most people who lived in London had homes in the countryside as well. While Elizabeth's family did, for the most part, remain in the countryside, they were not the only family to do so. Many titled families came in their droves during the winter months, returning to London when the season and Parliament were underway. Perhaps such was the way of the Ton.
“Elizabeth is anything but normal,” Anthony replied. “Shall we go in?”
He did not wait for a reply but started to walk forward. Elizabeth sneaked a glance behind her, pleased to see the affronted expressions of the women. Anthony patted her hand.
“Do not concern yourself with them. Enjoy the opera – consider it an early birthday present.”
“A rather lavish birthday present but thank you. I am quite excited. I have never been to an opera before.”
"Then you will love this.”
As most people entered through the double doors leading into the opera house, they turned left and climbed a few steps.
I cannot believe that this is indeed happening! I had only ever dreamed of walking into a place such as this, but now here I am. It was all thanks to the man beside her. And Diana as well. I would not be here if he were not trying to win her back.
They were the first to arrive at the balcony, which she preferred. It would have been terribly awkward for her had she had to walk in and have many eyes turn to look at her.
I have already received quite a welcoming committee, I believe that I have had enough for one evening.
“Come, sit. The show is about to start.” Anthony led her to an elaborately carved chair with a plush red cushion that matched the drapes on the stage.
“This is all beautiful, Anthony. Thank you again for bringing me here.”
He smiled. “The pleasure is all mine, Elizabeth.”
His smile did odd things to her brain. Best look away. The balcony filled up quickly soon after they were seated. But she was spared having to look at them as the lights had already dimmed. As the music began, Elizabeth hoped she would be able to handle whatever negativity would come her way.
*
Anthony had known that Elizabeth would look beautiful in the dress he had chosen, but he was not prepared for how breathtaking she would be. When he arrived at her residence, his mind had been filled with thoughts of Diana returning to him. However, the moment he had seen Elizabeth, those thoughts had fled with the wind.
Earlier that day, Anthony had paid a visit to the only seamstress in London whom he trusted to create a one-of-a-kind dress. However, as it was too late notice, Mrs Clothilde had advised him on several dresses that she had to hand. Anthony had gravitated to the white, gold and burgundy creation, knowing in his gut that it would look ravishing on Elizabeth. He often commissioned Mrs Clothilde to create dresses that would suit Diana's flamboyant nature. He had enjoyed purchasing things for her, especially things that he knew she would never find anywhere else. Diana always had expensive taste, but she was never openly appreciative of all that he did for her.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, could not stop thanking him. I should be thanking her! If she had never agreed to this plan, I would still be hounded by the vultures that keep a watchful eye on me.
Anthony thought about Felton's reaction to Elizabeth. He seemed to be affected by her beauty as well, but he need not worry about him. Felton was a lover of all things beautiful, and Elizabeth was most definitely stunning. If I were not currently courting her, would he have pursued her? Anthony did not have to think long about that answer. Certainly. Who would not pursue her? It amazes me that no man has captured her heart yet, or perhaps she only has room in her heart for her music.
He stole a look at her, glad for the dim lights that offered some form of cover. She turned her face just a fraction, enough for him to see that her cheeks appeared wet. On closer inspection, he noticed tears running down her face. This threw him.
Why is she weeping? Did I do something? Is she having a problem of some sort? Is this a delayed response to how the women treated her outside? Seeing her tears invoked panic within him, surprising even himself. What should I do? I do not wish to embarrass her by making it evident to everyone on the balcony. Anthony looked around. When he looked at her again, he noticed a glimmer of a smile on her rosebud
lips. She is smiling? He followed her gaze, seeing the romantic scene that the two opera singers were describing in song and props. Oh! Relief flooded his being. She is merely moved and enchanted by the music and passionate singing.
As a person who appreciated music, and indeed loved it, he understood something of what she was currently feeling. It had been the same with him when he had first visited the opera with his parents. That was where his love of music had been born, with his mother encouraging him to pursue his talent by learning to play several musical instruments. The one that he preferred was the pianoforte, but the harpsichord was a close second. Without thinking, he reached over and touched her hand, smiling at her. Anyone who could be so affected by music surely had a heart of gold. As soon as his hand touched hers, Anthony felt a current pass through him. What in heaven's name is this?
Elizabeth, likely realising that he was touching her, stilled for a few heartbeats. He watched her first look at her hand, and then at him, a mask of confusion on her face, her face mirroring his, for he was just as confused by what had just happened.
They stared at each other, neither saying a word. Something had just taken place, but his mind was so frazzled that he could not think clearly. Slightly panicked by this unfamiliar territory, he forced himself to focus on why they were here, sitting in these chairs, watching the opera.
We are here as a birthday gift to her. But why? What is the underlining reason? Think, Anthony, think.
A fleeting image of Diana entered his mind.
Yes, Diana. I love Diana, I want her back.
These thoughts served to ground him to the point where he was strong enough to pull away. Elizabeth looked away, but he noticed how her hand trembled ever so slightly. He could feel those same trembles deep within him, and he did not like it.
This is a game, a plan to win back my true love. I cannot afford to complicate it with unexplainable feelings.
For the rest of the evening, Anthony made sure to keep his hands to himself. There were times when he had to stop himself from reaching out to touch her again. It seemed like such a natural thing to do. But it was playing with fire. Diana had best come to her senses quickly.
*
Anthony did not recognise the garden he found himself in, but it was nothing that he had ever seen before. It seemed to be a mixture of an English garden and the tropical foliage of a tropical island. He walked through it, marvelling at how lush everything was. Something blue caught his eye and he looked up to see Elizabeth walking towards him in a dress that captured the rays of the sun. It had a life of its own, moving and shifting as she glided towards him. It was magical almost, as though a fairytale dress had been brought to life. Elizabeth laughed, a melodious sound that lifted his heart.
“I have been waiting for you.”
He pointed at himself. “Me?”
“Yes. Come, sit by the stream with me. Is it not lovely here?” She held out her hand, her smile inviting and warm.
“Where is the dress that I gave you?”
Elizabeth winked and did a twirl, and as the dress moved, it turned into the white and gold creation. “It is right here. Now, come.”
She held out her hand again, and he took it, feeling at ease as he did so. She led him to a stream that appeared to be flowing in the opposite direction.
“Why is it doing that? Surely that is against nature?”
“It is to make the water taste sweeter, silly.”
That made perfect sense to him. Anthony sat down on a clear patch of grass while Elizabeth went to the stream. She bent down, scooped up some water, and brought it to him.
“Here, this is for you. Drink.”
He obeyed, holding her soft hands at an angle so that he may better drink. As the cool liquid went down his throat, it tasted like the sweetest of nectars that nature had to offer.
“Good?” she asked him.
“Delicious.”
She smiled and sat beside him, her body turned towards him. Anthony had so many questions on his mind, but he could not voice them as he looked at her. Her skin glowed like the inside of a shell, pearl-like with a hint of pink. He wanted to touch her skin, to see what it was that made her look so ethereal. As if reading his mind, she took his hand and laid it against her cheek. He found it to be warm and cool at the same time, with a softness that was like the purest silk.
“So soft,” he murmured.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Silly.”
When she lay down and stared at the rolling clouds, she motioned for him to follow suit. He did so, his heart feeling happy when she took his hand and simply held it. A peace entered him, a peace that he often craved. Without warning, she sat up and looked behind her. Her eyes took on a great sadness when she looked at him.
“She is here.”
“Who?”
“Your love.” Elizabeth stood up and started to walk away from him.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She shook her head but did not turn around. Anthony scrambled to his feet, worried that she was going to disappear.
“Elizabeth, wait!”
She continued to shake her head as she glided away from him. He took off at a sprint, desperate to get to her. He did not want to lose her, could not lose her. When he caught up with her, he grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“Eliza –” he stopped.
Before him was not Elizabeth, but Diana.
“Diana?”
She started to laugh, an eerie sound that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Am I your love?” she asked.
"Yes, of course, you are."
She shook her head. “I could never be your love. You bore me. I have never loved you.”
Shaken by her words, Anthony struggled to make sense of it all. "Why are you saying this? Of course, you love me."
“I have never loved you. Never loved you. NEVER!”
“No!”
She laughed again, a horrible cackling that hurt his ears. He covered them, frightened by the Diana that he saw before him. Suddenly, her face changed as it took on a hideous expression that he would never forget. As she walked towards him, he took a step back, but the creature continued to come to him, its mouth wide open. In a blink of an eye, he found himself on the edge of a cliff.
“What am I doing here?”
He took a step forward, only to find the creature directly in front of him. The creature's hands came up, but they were not hands at all but claws that slashed at him. It pushed him, and Anthony screamed as he fell backwards. Closing his eyes, he waited for the fall that would surely kill him. When his rear connected with a hard, wooden floor, he opened his eyes only to find himself on his own bedroom floor, his bedsheets tangled around his body. He breathed out in one swoop, relief entering his body.
It was just a dream, a foolish dream at that.
Anthony was drenched in sweat, the sheets sticking to his body. That was unlike any dream he had ever experienced before. What was that all about?
Perhaps he was thinking too much about Elizabeth. If that were the case, he needed to get his head on straight. He loved Diana, he wanted Diana back in his life – that was the bottom line.
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 42