No one upsets my sister and gets away with it.
"The problem with the so-called upper social classes is that they tend to have an opinion of themselves that is neither accurate nor true. It is amusing how they choose – the operative word being choose – to look down upon others, and yet they are the ones to be pitied. Not all of them are alike – Anthony and Felton are excellent examples of men who are worthy of respect." She smiled. "The others... not so much. Come, Cecilia, it is time that we were going."
Elizabeth stood up and held her hand out to her sister, who readily took it. Both Catherine and Beatrice looked ready to argue when their eyes widened as they looked behind her.
“Oh, Anthony!” Catherine exclaimed. “Did you hear what this woman said to us?”
Anthony was here? Elizabeth felt too nervous to turn around, not certain of how much of the conversation he had heard.
“I heard everything, and I must admit that I am disgusted and shocked.”
Elizabeth's shoulders sagged. Anthony was a wonderful man, but he was still a social class above her. It would be natural for him to take the side of those he knew better. A quick glance at Catherine and Beatrice showed her their smug expressions. They were obviously certain that he had taken their part. She did not think that she could take his disapproval.
“Come, Cecilia, it is time to go home.”
"Yes, run along home to where you belong," said Beatrice. "Your kind is not welcome here."
Elizabeth tugged on her sister's hand and looked down as she exited the room, but when a male arm barred her way at the door, she stopped.
“Let us pass, please.”
“No, not until I have had my say,” Anthony replied.
“You have said enough, Lord Cavendish. Please, let us pass, we wish to return to our residence.”
“Let them pass, Anthony,” Beatrice urged. “Let us not prolong their humiliation.”
“As I was humiliated, you mean?” he asked.
Elizabeth's head shot up. Anthony gave her a side smile before turning a stony gaze on the women behind her. Relief flooded her body.
“Uh, that is not what I meant, Anthony – surely you know that?”
“I do not know, Beatrice. You sounded quite clear just now.”
“Anthony, darling, this is not about us,” argued Catherine. “You can hardly blame us for defending ourselves from this woman. Did you hear what she said to us?”
He nodded. “I did, and I agree with her.”
A collective gasp sounded behind her. Cecilia was quite brave as Elizabeth watched her turn around and look at the women. Elizabeth would not do it for fear of her own reaction upon seeing their faces.
“You cannot mean that –”
"I do, Catherine," he said. "I heard what you and Beatrice said to her. Elizabeth was only defending herself. Surely it is not a crime to defend yourself?”
“You do not understand –”
"Oh, I understand perfectly, Beatrice. What was it that you were talking about? Oh yes, social classes. Let me tell you something, ladies. Elizabeth is the most beautiful, talented, intelligent and honest woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. That is why I have chosen to court her. Diana made me a fool before all of you, and you said not a word. Not a word. In fact, you all had a laugh at my expense."
Elizabeth could hear the pain in his voice, and her heart went out to him. Without thinking, she put her hand in his.
“You do not have to say anything further, Anthony. They are not worth it.”
Anthony looked deep into her eyes, and brought her hand to his lips, bringing colour to her cheeks. Such a public display of affection was hardly proper, but nothing in the world could make her look away from his sea-green eyes.
“But you are worth it, Elizabeth. You are worth a thousand of these women. But let us not waste any more of our time here. You and your sister are welcome in the drawing room if you can handle the chatter of men.”
“We would be delighted.”
“Wonderful.”
He linked arms with Elizabeth and her sister on either side of him and escorted them to the drawing room. There was silence behind them, indicating the shocked state of the women.
“You spoke beautifully, Elizabeth,” he said. “You put those women right in their places.”
“As did you. You did not have to stand up for me, Anthony.”
“But I am most glad that he did, Eliza,” said Cecilia. “You should accept that Lord Cavendish came to our rescue this evening – he was our very own knight in shining armour.”
Anthony laughed, a lovely rumbling sound that vibrated throughout her body. “I am not sure about being a knight, but perhaps your champion.”
“What prompted you to come to the parlour?” Elizabeth asked.
“Instinct, I suppose. I sensed that you were in trouble, and I came.”
“Ooh,” exclaimed Cecilia. “I have heard about this before. When a couple truly love each other, they can sense when the other is in danger. You must care for our Eliza quite a bit, Lord Cavendish.”
"Ceci!" she warned. "Do not speak such tomfoolery. We have only just started courting – do give us an opportunity to become better acquainted before you start throwing the word 'love' carelessly about."
Elizabeth was beyond embarrassed.
Perhaps he thinks that I have said something to Cecilia? What must he think of me? Suppose he believes that I have a tendre for him? But I do, and that is the problem.
“Do not scold your sister, Elizabeth,” he said. “What she has said does indeed happen to some couples. My parents were a perfect example of this theory. Whenever the other had hurt themselves somehow, the other would instinctively know something was wrong.”
“You parents must truly have been in love, Lord Cavendish.”
“Yes, Cecilia, they were. Very much so. Love like that is rare.”
Anthony's face became thoughtful. Elizabeth assumed he was thinking about Diana, for she was never far from his mind. She hoped that Diane realised what a good man he was and that she would come back and make him happy.
*
Anthony's mind was a place of confusion. Overhearing Beatrice and Catherine speak those vile words to Elizabeth had made him see red. The rage that had exploded within him had only been reined-in by his thoughts of her, what she may be feeling. More than anything, Anthony felt guilty, because he knew he was the cause of it. Those women were jealous, jealous that he had dared to go out of their social class and find another woman unlike them. It was a significant blow to their pride, and she was suffering for it. When she had stood up for herself, his heart had swelled with pride. Elizabeth had not needed him to help her, but he could not stand by and watch her be humiliated.
I may have made things worse for her. Who knows what those women are likely to say or do now? They are not above seeking revenge, and that worries me.
Bringing Elizabeth and Cecilia into the drawing room was not exactly the proper thing to do, but even Felton had seen reason. In fact, he had been the one to encourage him to bring them back. The men would just have to rein-in their tongues for a while until the women were ready to go. As soon as they entered the drawing room, Felton came towards them and linked arms with Cecilia, guiding her to a chair. Philip, one of their good friends, was the first to comment favourably on their presence.
“Two roses amongst the thorns. Thank you for giving this dreary bunch some colour. I was growing weary trying to keep the conversation going.”
“Then it is our pleasure, gentlemen,” said Elizabeth. “Although I do hope that we are not intruding in any way. Lord Cavendish insisted that we accompany him here. It appears that going home is not yet on the cards.”
Anthony could have never let them go home until he knew that Elizabeth was fine, that she was not terribly affected by the horrendous words spoken moments before. He could not bear to see the pain in her eyes.
“The night is young, why return home?” Felton asked. “Unless you
do not enjoy my hospitality?”
Anthony knew that his friend was merely teasing, but Elizabeth did not know him well enough yet.
“Heavens no, Lord Nicholson. You have been a splendid host.”
“Firstly, it is Felton to you. And secondly, thank you kindly. I suppose I inherited my mother's penchant for parties.”
“I second that,” Anthony added. “I know of no other man who can throw such a lavish affair, and with no womanly help in the background. Well, except for your servants.”
Felton did an exaggerated bow, earning giggles from the women.
"Why, thank you, sir. I shall take that compliment to heart. Now, what shall we do for music, for I am sure that our musicians are far too tired to play another song?"
Anthony had seen Elizabeth's eyes travel to the pianoforte, stare at it wistfully, and then look away. He was about to suggest that she play when her sister beat him to it.
"Eliza, you play the pianoforte beautifully. Surely you can be the one to entertain us all?"
He watched Elizabeth's surprised look, followed by a quick shake of her head. “Oh no, I could not do that.”
“Why ever not, Eliza? You have been whining these past few days about not being able to play. Yet now you have the opportunity, but refuse to take it. It makes no good sense to turn this down.”
“Your sister is right, Elizabeth,” he said. “Go on, play something for us. I have been longing to hear you play.”
She sighed. “Oh, all right. Shall I play something jovial and light?”
They all agreed, and she took her place at the instrument, her back straight and her graceful hands poised above the keys. The minute her fingers touched the instrument, beautiful music flooded the room. Anthony knew talent when he saw it, but this was simply far beyond what he had ever encountered.
No wonder she wishes to pursue music. She is a genius.
To say that he was bowled over by her talent and skill would be putting it lightly. There were no words to describe the feeling that the music created within him. When her first piece came to an end, he was the first to stand and applaud her.
“Wonderful! Simply magnificent!”
She blushed, endearing her to him even further. The rest of their company stood up as well, applauding her and calling for an encore.
“What do you suggest I play now?” she asked.
"Another jovial piece," Felton suggested. "That piece you just played has put me in high spirits."
He watched her nod and return to the instrument, her hands first gliding over the keys before starting the next piece of music. Elizabeth played several melodies after that, each piece earning her much praise and admiration.
I have been lucky enough to know this woman. She truly has added value to my life, so much so that I can see how my life should be. I no longer want the arguing, the humiliation, or the cold shoulder. Diana would need to understand this before they were married. I need her to be more like Elizabeth.
Why not just be with Elizabeth?
The thought startled him so much that he did not hear Felton speak to him.
“Anthony!” he called. “Has your mind taken you to some far-off place?”
He slowly blinked, frowning at his friend. “What was it that you were asking?”
“A duet, old friend.”
“A duet? I am not following your train of thought.”
He watched as his friend dramatically rolled his eyes, getting a laugh from their companions.
“You and Elizabeth must do a duet together.”
Somehow that seemed like an intimate thing to do. He looked at Elizabeth, seeing that she was avoiding eye contact. She may believe the same thing.
“I could not possibly do that,” he finally said. “Elizabeth is far too accomplished for me – I would ruin the duet.”
“Nonsense,” Felton argued. “You know as well as I do that you play well. Do be a sport and join our beautiful lady at the pianoforte, unless you are too frightened to?”
Anthony narrowed his eyes at his friend. If there was anything that could make him do something, it would be to accuse him of being scared. Both he and Felton were daredevils at heart, always goading the other to complete activities that the average person would shy away from. Scared, him? Ludicrous.
“Very well, if Elizabeth does not mind?”
He looked at her, waiting for her to lift her eyes. A faint blush covered her cheeks, but she eventually looked up, nodded, and turned to face the pianoforte.
“That settles it. Come, Anthony. Your place is waiting for you beside your lovely lady.”
Anthony stood up, although he would rather have run away. Playing alongside Elizabeth seemed straightforward enough on the surface, but there was too much tension rippling beneath the surface to ignore. He took his seat next to her and motioned for her to begin, he would follow suit. She started to play, a soft melody that spoke to him. It was if she were talking to him and he could do nothing but answer her by laying his fingers on the keys and playing with his heart.
He felt every rise and dip of the notes, holding his breath when one was prolonged, and releasing it with the touch of a finger on a different key. As the music flowed around them, he was conscious of their thighs pressed close to each other, creating growing heat between them. There was both passion and beauty in their duet, a mirror of his blossoming feelings for her. Anthony knew that their duet was coming to an end, but he wanted it to last, needed it to last.
I cannot speak what I feel growing within me, but I can translate it through music and hope that she understands what I am saying. He could not deny what he was starting to feel for Elizabeth.
The ending came swiftly, closing the line of communication between them. When their hands stilled, Anthony found that they were both slightly breathless. He merely stared at her, her expression matching his own. They were both in awe of what had taken place, her eyes a portal into her soul. The silence was broken when the party broke into wild applause, their compliments full of admiration and excitement for the astounding duet.
“Simply sublime!” one shouted.
“Magical!”
“The best I have ever heard in my life!”
“You have to play again,” Felton demanded. “We are not content with just one duet.”
Anthony looked at Elizabeth. “Are you prepared for another one?”
She smiled. “Only if you are.”
Anthony stared deep into her eyes, giving her his answer. She nodded, clearly understanding his unspoken words. They both placed their hands to the keys at the same time, and this time, she let him lead.
*
Elizabeth was quiet during the carriage ride back to the townhouse. Her mind was filled with thoughts about the evening, confusing thoughts that brought her no relief. My heart does not seem to understand that this is all but an arrangement between Anthony and I.
Mrs Potts had warned her that love came swiftly and without warning, which Elizabeth was coming to realise. How can I be sure that I truly love him and that it is not just strong affection?
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 45