She has a strong character but a kind heart, too kind at times. It is refreshing to be able to talk to a woman who is not trying to entrap me in some way. Elizabeth gives me her honest opinion without the need to sweeten it, which I appreciate. She is young, far younger than I am, but her soul is that of a much older woman. I see why some men would be intimidated by her.
Most of the guests at the dinner party received her favourably, with only Catherine and her group of friends being less than kind to her. Elizabeth seemed to be able to charm everyone, so much so that he wished to remove her from the crowds and keep her to himself.
She makes me want to forget that this is all a sham. In fact, I have found myself forgetting that we are in the midst of an elaborate plan to achieve our goals. I have not had to run after her, appease her with gifts, or watch my words.
With Diana, it was constant drama. It did not matter what event they attended, there was always a note of terrifying unpredictability. Diana was able to manipulate him and twist him about her finger quite easily. She had seemed to find it amusing to ignite his temper by flirting with other men, making him insecure about her feelings for him, and yet he still stood by her side.
But for Diana to have done what she did to him, did that not indicate that she had not behaved like a woman in love? Here was a woman before him who was opposite Diana in every way, who appeared to understand him quite well, and did not act foolishly.
What if I were to truly court her? To make it official between us both? Would she consent to it? Anthony did not know. What he did know was that he was treading on dangerous ground by having these thoughts. Diana could well be on her way, and I am entertaining thoughts of being with another woman. The peculiar thing was that he did not feel terrible about it, not at all.
*
Elizabeth was not one for social gatherings, but she had to admit that she was enjoying herself. Anthony was wonderfully attentive, letting her speak her mind without the need to mind her words and opinions. Indeed, he seemed to encourage her views, which was a novel experience for her. Elizabeth could not have asked for a better dinner partner. They had all just about concluded the nine-course meal, which had included a symphony of flavours she was not accustomed to.
“This was all rather delicious, but I could not recognise some of the flavours used.”
“Felton's cook likes to experiment and will often go foraging for new flavours,” Anthony replied. “This meal has gone well, but I have been present where things had not precisely been as acceptable to the English palate as, say, a tribe in some far off country. Felton humours him, letting him free reign in the kitchen.”
“That sounds... exciting, for lack of a better word. I do not know how I would feel being presented with a meal that I was not entirely certain about. I do not know about you, but I enjoy meals that I can recognise. However, I seem to be contradicting myself because I have just enjoyed this meal and I did not recognise everything on my plate.”
Anthony laughed. “Robinson will make a convert of you yet.”
“Robinson?”
“Felton's cook. George Robinson. He worked as a cook on the ships for years before settling in London.”
“Oh, that explains his knowledge of food. He likely learnt about different foods and their preparations from his travels.”
“I suppose so. I can recall Felton telling me that Robinson has been to areas such as the Caribbean, North Africa, and the Orient.”
The bold part of her yearned for such travels. Elizabeth had never before voiced her secret love of exotic lands, knowing that she would never be able to travel further than Europe. However, it felt natural to tell Anthony about it.
"I have read books about faraway lands and often dreamt of sailing away on a ship to some place exotic. But I suppose that well-bred English women do not do that sort of thing."
"Not usually, but there are exceptions. You are an extraordinary woman, I would not put it past you to suddenly jump on a ship and do so. But I would wear a disguise of some sort – you are far too beautiful not to be noticed by the natives. There are pirates that sail our seas who would love to kidnap you and sell you to a wealthy, ageing sultan."
That sounded horrifying. “Kidnap? You jest!”
He shook his head. “Not in the least. It does happen, more often than anyone would care to think. Human trafficking and slavery is a large and profitable business for those with the stomach for it.”
Elizabeth could not imagine such a thing. Living in the country had shielded her from much of the world, it seemed. “Perhaps I should reconsider my dream of sailing on the seven seas and seeing new lands. I would not enjoy being kidnapped.”
He laughed. “No, certainly not. Best you stay in Europe and become the world's greatest composer of our time.”
She smiled. For a moment, she was not the woman who wanted to pursue a life of music. Not because her passion had died, but because Anthony continued to show her that there was more to life than taking one lone path. It was so easy to forget that this was all a ruse until one of them brought up the very reason they had partaken in such a plan. Their lie was becoming too real, and it unsettled her.
Felton interrupted the light dinner table chatter when he stood up and gained their attention. “Are we ready to retire to the drawing room once more?” he asked. “My good friend – Lord Cavendish – has organised some entertainment for us this evening. If you would follow me.”
As they all stood up, she turned to Anthony, wondering at the entertainment. “You did not say that you had organised the entertainment for the dinner party? What is it?”
“It is a surprise. I have the strongest notion that you will appreciate it immensely.” He took her hand, placing it on his arm and moved towards the doorway.
“You are being rather mysterious, Anthony.”
“Mystery is the spice of life, do you not agree? It keeps things interesting.”
She did not say anything else after that, eager to get to the drawing room. As they entered the room, she noticed a few young men with various instruments before them.
“Please, be seated,” Felton requested. “I shall allow Lord Cavendish to introduce our musicians.”
Anthony waited for her to be seated, finding a chair close to the front. He then left her, Felton taking his place beside her.
“I am proud to present this talented group of musicians from our very own streets of London,” Anthony began.
"They are all underprivileged young men," Felton whispered to her. "Anthony has taken them under his wing and become their patron. They earn a living and explore their musical talents at the same time."
This news surprised Elizabeth. It really should not have done for he was a kind man. But there truly was no end to his generosity. It baffled her that a titled man could be so giving of his time and money. Anthony continued to fill the requirements of her ideal man, starting with his charming personality and good looks.
“They will be performing a concerto for us all, so I ask that you sit back and enjoy it.”
People lightly applauded as he came to sit on the other side of her.
She leaned in closer to him. “That is a wonderful thing that you have done for these young men, Anthony. Simply wonderful.”
“It was the least that I could do to help the young men of our country. Too many of them are being forced into workhouses where conditions are terrible or being sent off to fight the wars of rich men. If I can make a difference in at least a few of their lives, then I shall do so.”
Elizabeth was moved by the great feeling with which he delivered his answer. He clearly felt strongly about what he was doing and that only made her care for him more. She laid a hand on his arm.
“You are a wonderful man, Anthony.”
He covered her hand with his own as he smiled and looked at her. “Any person with a heart would have done what I did. Now, let us listen to them, I believe that you will enjoy this concerto.”
He did not remove his ha
nd as they both settled into their chairs to watch the musicians. She ignored the tingly feeling that the touching of their skin was producing. The feeling was no longer such a shock, but more of a comfort. Elizabeth found that she enjoyed having his hand on hers, perhaps too much. The music began, a dramatic start that captured everyone's attention.
How beautifully they play. She was glad that Anthony had saved them from an otherwise hard life. She turned to look at him, noting the tender and proud expression on his face. He had brought the beauty of fine music to all who heard them play.
“They play beautifully,” she whispered to Anthony.
“Yes, they do. They work hard.”
She smiled and squeezed his arm. “It is all due to you.”
He looked down at their hands and then back at her. The look he gave her sent shivers down her spine. When he squeezed her hand, she realised that she may have acted too forward by putting her hand on his arm and let it rest there for so long. Going so far as to squeeze him would have earned her a scolding from her father. However, it was such a natural thing for her to do that she had not given it a second thought. She coloured and removed her hand, linking it with her other hand and placing it on her lap. He frowned at her, a small smile about his lips. She smiled back, trying to assure him that all was well before turning to watch the musicians once more.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look this evening?” he whispered.
“Several times.”
He smiled. “Then I have not done it enough.”
Since she had first met him, he had done nothing but compliment and encourage her. She would not have put much stock by the compliments of other men, but he was different. Elizabeth knew that he meant every word. As she sat there by his side, her heart began to swell painfully from all the tenderness she felt for him. It was at that precise moment that she began to regret ever having agreed to enter into this arrangement.
It has put me in a most a difficult position. Had I known of his character beforehand, I would have run in the opposite direction! How was I to possibly know that men such as him existed? All the men that Mama entertained in our home or those that I met elsewhere have been dull fools with no single thought between them other than the norm. I must guard my heart, or he will leave me broken-hearted while he rides off into the sunset with Diana.
Elizabeth had never experienced a broken heart before, but judging by her mother's experience, it was not something she would ever want to go through. The problem was, how was she going to keep herself from falling in love with him?
Chapter 10
The men and women separated after the concerto with the women moving to the parlour and the men remaining in the drawing room. Elizabeth did not want to leave Anthony, but she did not have much of a choice. Cecilia, who had been engrossed in conversations with the other women of the dinner party, came rushing towards her, face alight with glee.
“Eliza! This dinner is splendid. I am so glad that you convinced me to come.”
“I do not remember any convincing on my part, Ceci. I could not have stopped you for all the world.”
Cecilia rolled her eyes. “Never mind that, just come along – Beatrice is saving a spot for us.”
“Beatrice?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
Yes, a big problem. Beatrice had been one of the women who had attempted to 'put her in her place' at the opera, openly showing her dislike of Elizabeth. Why would she keep a place for her? Elizabeth believed she knew the answer. This would be Beatrice's opportunity to attack her without Anthony or Felton nearby.
“Nothing for you to worry about. Come, let us find our seats.”
They entered the parlour arm in arm, Elizabeth feeling the tension in the room as soon as her foot crossed the threshold. Cecilia obviously did not sense a thing because she was all smiles heading straight to Beatrice who was sitting with Catherine.
Let the snide comments begin.
“Elizabeth! Cecilia!” Beatrice called. “Come, sit. We have saved you two spots beside us.”
I would much rather have lunch with the devil, but there you go, thought Elizabeth, painting on a smile, hoping it did not look like a grimace. She noted that she and Cecilia were the last people to sit down, so all eyes were on them.
“We were just talking about you, Elizabeth,” said Catherine. “About you and Anthony.”
“Oh? I did not think that we were much of a topic to talk about.”
Beatrice laughed. “Well, this is our Anthony. Whatever he does is of concern to us.”
“You are wonderful friends to want to take care of him in such a way.”
She hoped that they could hear the sarcasm in her words. Cecilia did because she shot her a warning look.
Do not despair, sister dear, I shall not shame you. But I shall put them in their places.
"Oh yes," added Catherine. "We are most protective of him. Of course, with Diana, we never had to worry because we knew her well enough already having all grown up together. Do you know Miss Diana Lambert, Elizabeth? She is the daughter of a well-known man – the Viscount of Somersby. You must have heard about her – she is Anthony's great love. Oh, excuse me – was his great love. I keep on forgetting that you have replaced her."
She heard her sister suck in her breath, but Elizabeth made no outward action of showing her anger. If she were to do that, then they would have won.
“She could not have been such a great love if she ran away from him. You do not humiliate the one you profess to love.”
Beatrice and Catherine exchanged a look, their eyebrows raised. Yes, Elizabeth did have a sharp tongue. Beatrice shifted in her chair before speaking, almost as though she were preparing for battle.
“They have known each other for quite some time. Six years, I believe.”
Oh, so they were ignoring Anthony's rejection, and here Elizabeth thought they were all such good friends.
“Then I suppose she knew what she was doing when she humiliated him in front of you all.”
The room filled with low-pitched murmurs, but Beatrice and Catherine said nothing. They merely stared at her with cold eyes and false smiles.
“That was misunderstanding,” Catherine finally said.
“A misunderstanding that took her all the way to Paris? I think not.”
“Do you know what I find amusing, Beatrice?” Catherine asked.
“Yes?”
“When people have opinions above their station. There are reasons as to why there are different social classes. Do you know what they are, Elizabeth?”
“No, but I do believe that you will inform me.”
Catherine smiled. “Well, it is quite simple really. It is so that we are not soiled by the stench of the lower classes.”
Cecilia suddenly stood up, but Elizabeth took her hand and shook her head. “Sit down, Ceci. We are not done here.”
“But, Eliza –”
“I understand.”
Elizabeth saw the hurt in her sister's eyes. Never before had they been so insulted, and Cecilia did not know how to handle it. Well, Elizabeth did, and it did not involve running away. Cecilia sat down, but stiffly so. Elizabeth made a point to look at her, shaking her head slightly. She hoped that her sister understood what she was trying to say. Cecilia nodded, her eyes a little misty. When Elizabeth saw the hint of tears in her sister's eyes, it made her angrier. A deathly calm came over her as she turned to look at the two women who had upset her sister. It did not matter that they had been beyond nasty, but it did matter that Cecilia was tearful.
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 44