She could overcome affection, but love was a different matter.
Cecilia gently bumped her shoulder with hers, getting Elizabeth's attention. "You seem awfully quiet for a woman who was the centre of attention for much of the evening."
“I am merely tired. You should be quite tired as well. It has been a long night.”
“I am too excited for that. This dinner party was wonderful, sans the vile women who attended it.”
Beatrice and Catherine had trailed into the drawing room in the midst of her and Anthony's third duet together. Elizabeth had not noticed them at first, so engrossed was she in the music. It was only once she had turned around that she saw them staring at her with vengeful eyes. Anthony had touched her hand, giving her strength and comfort. How can you not love a man like that? The more time that she spent with him, the stronger her feelings became. She was heading down a dangerous path, and she knew it.
“Do not concern yourself with those women, Ceci. Put them out of your mind.”
Her sister snorted. “How do you suppose that I do that? They were rude and spiteful, hardly something you can forget.”
“Then you must try. Papa always told us that if we put our mind to it, we can achieve anything.”
He was also the person who had indirectly placed them in the position that they were in. If only Papa had simply let me be, I would not be in this predicament of losing my heart to a man who could never be mine.
Cecilia continued. “The good thing about this dinner party was seeing how much the baron cares for you. No one can deny that he has a tendre for you.”
If only. Anthony is merely pretending, so much so that I myself am confused. The looks he gave her, his comforting presence... it was too easy to give into the moment and forget all else. Perhaps I shall ask him to hold back on his acting skills. But what if he should ask me the reason for my request? What shall I tell him then?
“He is a good and caring man.” Elizabeth did not know what else to say. She hated lying and wished that she could tell her sister the truth. But that would be disastrous.
"Is that all you have to say on the matter? Eliza, he stood up to those women on your behalf, and hardly ever left your side. It was clear to all who were present that he is smitten with you. Do you not care for him in return?"
“Of course, I do, Ceci. I care for him immensely.”
"You certainly could have fooled me. Your lack of response is alarming."
“I did say that I was tired. I shall be more responsive on the morrow.”
“Very well, but you do not mind if I talk, do you? My mind is so full I feel that I shall burst if I do not speak.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Yes, just do not expect any answers from me.”
"Yes, yes. Firstly, let me congratulate you on finding such a good match. Papa would be proud of you as well."
“Hmm.”
“He is handsome, intelligent, caring, wealthy, and I could just continue with a list of his attributes. But I am sure that you know them well enough.”
“I do.”
Elizabeth could see her sister pause for a moment, her head cocked to the side as she looked at her. “I must say that I am surprised that you were able to find a suitor during your first ball of the season. That is a one in a million situation.”
She felt like shouting out that it was all a lie, that Anthony did not care for her, but Diana.
“Romantic success is not usually found so early on in season,” Cecilia continued. “But it is possible, and you just happened to be one of the few lucky ones.”
Lucky? That is hardly a word that I would use. I hope that we reach our residence soon because I am tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.
Cecilia gave a little chuckle, grabbing her attention.
“What is it that has tickled you so?”
“Do you remember what I said to you when we were still at home?”
“You said a great many things, Ceci. You will have to be more specific.”
“You were adamant that you would never find someone to love, a suitable man who would share your passion.”
In a way, her sister's reminder only served to hurt her.
I have indeed found my ideal match, but he can never be with me. He is in love with another. Perhaps I have not truly found my match, just a glimmer of what could be.
When Anthony eventually rejected her as agreed upon, the blow would be great. She would not need to pretend to be heartbroken.
“You were right.”
“Of course I was right.” said Cecilia. “I am always right.”
That made Elizabeth laugh. “Now that is what you call an exaggeration. No one can always be right, least of all you. But I shall admit that you were right in this instance.”
“You should pay attention to what I say more often, especially when it concerns fashion.”
“Oh no, I shall not get into the frenzy of obsessing about fashion. That I shall leave to you.”
She heard her sister's exaggerated sigh followed by a drawn-out yawn.
“You should, for you are helpless at fashion. Do wake me up once we reach our destination. I find myself in need of a brief nap.”
“Sleep, I shall wake you up.”
As her sister slept, Elizabeth's mind travelled back to the duet. She had had no idea that Anthony could play so well. He has never said a word to me, which is surprising, for I have spoken of my love for music on more than one occasion.
She had not known that he would be able to keep up so well and match her in every way. It was as if they were made to play together. She truly enjoyed their moment together at the pianoforte, the way they were able to read each other through music.
Each piece that they played had meant something to her. They spoke of her growing feelings for him, and unrequited love. The music had not needed words, for the melody had captured her emotions beautifully. Anthony had seemed quite immersed in the music himself.
If I were a fool, I would think that he was playing for me, but it was all for Diana. But there was a moment when it had seemed that he was speaking to her, trying to tell her something with his eyes. Elizabeth had been too afraid to read too much into it. She would rather remain ignorant than believe something, only to be disappointed in time to come.
She had courage, but not when it came to her heart. That needed to be protected for she refused to become like her parents. A loveless marriage was not what she desired. Neither was a broken heart.
Chapter 11
Some days later, Anthony found himself in Elizabeth's company once more. He could not have wished for more perfect weather, especially for an outdoor event. The Havershams, distant relatives of his, were hosting a garden party to end all garden parties. Their estate boasted a large garden, and rolling lawns complete with a dam where some of the men were currently fishing. The younger women were seated on plaid picnic blankets while the older women reclined on chairs with hand-fans wafting cool air on their hot faces. It was a picturesque view, one that he had failed to take notice of in the past until Elizabeth pointed out certain things to him.
“This would be a lovely scene to paint, do you not think so?” she asked.
“Perhaps, although there would be people I would rather leave out of the painting.”
He had noticed Beatrice and Catherine look their way several times, but when they realised that he was also looking, they quickly turned away again. Their gazes would also wander to the house, almost as though they were expecting someone. They were up to something. Anthony decided there and then that he would not leave Elizabeth's side for fear of what they may do or say to her.
“That is not how painting works, Anthony. You cannot focus on the good and ignore the bad. There has to be truth to what you are painting.”
"I disagree. Painting is the one medium where you can lie to your heart's content. Just ask Mrs Haversham. She sports several chins in the physical, but her portraits seem to leave that out. Or Mr Davenport. He has all but
three hairs on his head, but his portraits show a man with a full head of healthy hair. So you see, my dear Elizabeth, painting is a means of lying when it suits."
She chuckled. “That may be, but I see it as people lying, not the painting. It can only represent your truth. And if your truth is a lie, then it still represents a truth because that is all it knows.”
“I did not know that you were such a philosopher.”
She tapped him with her fan. “Do not tease me, it is not nice.”
“But I do so love to tease you – it is my favourite pastime.”
“Then perhaps I should spend less time with you.”
He shook his head. “Not possible. I would hound you incessantly.”
She tried to hide her smile from him, but she only succeeded in making herself laugh. Anthony just took that moment to enjoy her laugh, which rivalled the sunshine.
"You truly have a beautiful laugh, Elizabeth. I know I have said it before, but I cannot resist repeating it."
She coloured. "Why do you insist on saying things that make me blush? People might think that I have a permanent pink flush on my cheeks."
“It is very becoming on you. They might just think that you applied rouge to your cheeks.”
“That ghastly thing? Heavens no. I would rather have soot on my face than wear the markings of a courtesan.”
Anthony was taken aback. “What do you know of courtesans? Besides, many women wear rouge to enhance their looks.”
"Perhaps if they did more walking and less talking, they would find that they had a healthy-looking flush."
“You have quite the sting in your tongue these days. I hope that I am not influencing you terribly.”
She shook her head. “I am hardly meek and mild, Anthony. I say what has to be said. However, my sister is far worse than I. She does not seem to know when to hold her tongue as she should. Speaking of which, where is she?”
Anthony looked around, spotting her under the shade of a large tree. “If you look to your left, you will see her under that tree.”
“Oh, I see her. She is with Megan – I did not see her arrive.”
“You were far too occupied with hanging on to my every word.”
She laughed. “My, what a high opinion we have of ourselves.”
“I cannot help that you find me entertaining. You would have been bored had I not been here – admit it.”
She pursed her lips. “I shall do no such thing. I do not wish to inflate your already far too big male pride.”
Anthony laughed out loud, finding their little playful bickering delightful. He could suddenly hear a voice calling out to them, breaking their conversation. He saw his friend waving to them.
“Anthony! Elizabeth!” Felton shouted. “Come along now. You have been standing about chattering for the past hour.”
Had it been an hour already? It had not felt so. Time passed so quickly when he was with Elizabeth. He found that he did not want to share her with anyone else.
“Would you like to continue walking or take a seat?”
“I would much rather walk, if you do not mind.”
Anthony raised his voice to call back to Felton. “We would rather walk – the day is too beautiful to sit about.”
Felton shrugged. “Very well, have it your way.”
Anthony waved and turned to Elizabeth. “Shall we?”
“Yes. Let us walk nearer to the trees for shade. I can only take so much of the sun before I begin to melt. I prefer the other seasons to summer.”
“And what of musicians? Which do you prefer?” Anthony changed direction and headed for the trees that would eventually give way to a not-so-secret garden.
“Johann Sebastian Bach was a wonderful composer – I have many of his music sheets. Mozart is another excellent composer.”
“I agree. However, I know that you must have more. A woman of your skill will know many musicians.”
"Of course, there are many more. But I do not wish to bore you."
“You could never bore me. Please, continue.”
Anthony meant what he said. There was hardly a dull moment with her, and especially no drama, which he appreciated. She lifted up one slim hand and began to count.
“There is the pianist and composer Johann Franz Xaver Sterkel – do you know of him?”
“I may have heard him play some years ago.”
Her eyes were wide. “You have? He is one of my favourites. Who else have you heard play?”
“The violist William Shield. Do you know of him?”
“Yes! Do you know of Ignaz Pleyel? I have ten of his sonatinas in my piano sheet collection.”
"Of course. I hear that he is soon to play in London. Perhaps you will accompany me? I would like a knowledgeable partner with me."
Anthony could see that she was excited for she had not stopped smiling and her gestures were animated.
“Oh, Anthony, I would love to. I would also give my left hand to hear Ludwig van Beethoven play.”
In response, he took her gloved left hand and planted a soft kiss on the concealed palm.
"I could not bear to see this hand chopped off. However would you play?" He laughed when she rolled her eyes at him and sighed.
“It was merely an exaggeration, Anthony. I would hardly chop off my hand – how would I earn my keep as an independent woman?” Her attention was captured elsewhere as she turned. “Oh my, is that not the most beautiful sight?”
He followed her gaze, belatedly remembering that they were on the path to the fountain. They had arrived, and it was as well-kept as he remembered it, but he could not have been less concerned with the fountain at that moment.
“It is quite a sight,” he agreed, turning back to her.
Anthony was not talking about the fountain, but Elizabeth. Her hair had caught the glint of the sun, showing shades of copper, red and brown. He had never seen hair so alive with colour. It almost had a life of its own. His eyes travelled down to her high forehead, and then to her eyes that had turned lighter in the sun. They looked golden, as though the sun itself had entered into her and was shining from her irises. Their walking had given her a lovely flush on her cheeks, the rosy colour drawing him to her rosebud lips. A sudden urge to kiss her arose within him, taking him by surprise.
What is this? Kiss Elizabeth? I could never do such a thing. If I made her my bride, nothing could stop me from kissing her. And she would make me happy, that much I am sure of. Elizabeth is the wittiest, talented and most beautiful woman to have crossed my path. When I am with her, Diana hardly enters my mind. In fact, this is the first time today that she has entered my thoughts. I cannot compare Elizabeth to Diana because she is more the woman that Diana will ever be.
Anthony's heart clenched tightly as the realisation dawned upon him.
I love Elizabeth!
She is my one true love. I have never experienced this level of comfort, companionship and sweetness with Diana, but Elizabeth alone. Perhaps I have continued to pursue Diana because she is the woman of my youth? A great folly on my part because she has brought me more misery than good. Whatever possessed me to propose to her? I should have listened to my parents when they warned me away from her years ago. I was a foolish young man, and Diana knew the words to have me come running after her. I had thought that marrying my sweetheart would make my life complete. I enjoyed the idea of it but ignored the reality of it. Of course, I cannot marry Diana. She is not the person for me and never was. This woman before me is the one I love and wish to spend the rest of my life with.
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 46