“Why?”
"Because you were made for me. Elizabeth, I have adored your sharp wit and tender heart, the way in which you care for others. I never thought to meet a woman who would love music or the opera as much as I do. In fact, your skill on the pianoforte is far greater than mine, and yet we were able to complement each other and perform a perfect duet."
She smiled. She too had had the same thoughts, but she had been trying to banish them since leaving the garden party.
“Elizabeth, I do not wish to stifle your dreams and creativity. I want you to grow, but I wish for you to grow with me by your side. I shall hire many servants to make sure that you are free to do as you wish – you needn't give up who you are when you are married to me.”
This was truly happening. Anthony was speaking about their future together, but he had yet to ask the question.
“What are you trying to say, Anthony?”
He stared deeply into her eyes. “Elizabeth Ramsbury, I love you with every fibre of my being. I love who you are. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
These were the words she had longed to hear but never hoped to. She responded by cupping his cheeks. "Perhaps the mundane responsibilities of marriage will not be so terrible if there were love and joy involved."
He looked at her hopefully. “Is that a yes?”
She nodded. “Nothing would make me happier than to spend the rest of my life with the man I love with every fibre of my being.”
She held her hand out to him, letting him slip the ring on her finger. Elizabeth yelped with surprise when Anthony stood up, picked her up, and spun her around with a shout of laughter.
“Anthony!” she gushed.
He stopped, but he did not release her. Instead, he looked down at her, his eyes confirming everything he had just said. When he brought his head low, she closed her eyes, knowing instinctively that he was about to kiss her. As his lips touched hers, she felt her body start to tremble. Elizabeth felt his arms wrap around her, bringing her in closer. His scent, warmth and the meeting of their lips were a heady combination. She felt as though she were both melting and floating, not altogether sure that her feet were still on the ground. Elizabeth felt him pour out his love for her in that single kiss, his tenderness her undoing. When the door was suddenly opened, they leapt apart, both smiling guiltily at each other as Cecilia burst into the room.
“Oh, this is what I had been hoping for! I am so happy!”
Her sister ran to them, embracing them both. Elizabeth could not help but feel a little embarrassed for having been caught kissing, but Cecilia did not seem to mind. It was not long before her aunt and uncle entered the room, their eyes still suspicious as they looked at Anthony. It did not take her long to explain to them what had happened, eventually receiving their approval as well.
They were granted some time alone, and as she sat beside him talking, a part of her still did not believe that Anthony had come back for her, but here he was, staring adoringly into her eyes.
He loves me, he truly loves me. And to think that had I not come to London, I would have never met him. I shall have to thank Father for forcing me to come.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I need to thank my father for insisting that I come here. Had he not done so...”
“Then I must thank him as well. Indeed, I am indebted to him.”
“Do you think we should tell him of how we came to be?”
He chuckled. “I doubt that your father would approve of our method.”
Elizabeth smiled. She would always be grateful that the plan did not go according to their initial desired end.
Who knew that a false courtship would lead to true love?
Epilogue
Elizabeth concentrated on the keys before her, knowing that her husband was doing the same. This particular piece of music was one of the most challenging to date, but she relished challenges. She gave Anthony a side look, smiled at the adorable frown on his brow, and returned her gaze to the instrument.
They had been married for a little over a year, and she could not be happier. Of course, the beginning had been a tad tense, what with coming clean about the false courtship. Both her and Anthony had decided to reveal the truth about their whirlwind romance as many questions had been raised about it. People wished to know why he had rejected her in favour of Diana, only to reject Diana as well within a day.
It had been quite the scandal when the truth surfaced, but it did not negatively affect them, which had surprised her. If anything, people thought it was the single most romantic thing to have taken place during a season. It read like a story, a love story with a happy ending. But it may have ended terribly had Cecilia not stepped in and changed the course of their lives by her bravery. Now her sister was also happily married and pregnant. Their babies would only be a month apart, with Cecilia having hers first. Elizabeth felt the baby moving around in her belly as though responding to the music. Her pregnancy was going relatively well, but she was still nervous about being a good mother – her sister seemed more prepared for motherhood than she was. Ceci had surprised her with how effortlessly she stepped into the role of the perfect wife and soon-to-be mother. Although Elizabeth had also been happy, it had been quite the adjustment.
Becoming a baron's wife was no small thing either. Elizabeth had never imagined the responsibilities that having a title would create. But unlike most husbands, Anthony had helped her transition into her role as Lady Cavendish. He indeed had been a loving husband, and perhaps more paranoid than she was concerning this pregnancy. Even walking down the stairs was a worry for him, afraid that she might become light-headed and fall. While she had been dizzy for most of her pregnancy, she hardly thought it necessary to take measures such as convert one of the downstairs parlours into a bedroom for them. But Anthony had insisted, and as she loved him, she had given into him.
A sudden hard kick on the left of her swollen abdomen had her leaving the keys to rub her belly.
“Oof! My, but you are a busy little bee this day.”
“What is it? Has something happened? Must I call the doctor?” Anthony had also stopped playing, his eyes fearful as he stared at her.
She shook her head. “There is no need for a doctor, my love. This baby has been wriggling about for quite some time now. He or she must like this piece that we are playing.”
His look of relief was quite comical. He was devoted to the baby and to Elizabeth and she could not have asked for a better husband and father.
“Then our baby has an ear for music,” he replied. “There may be the next great composer in your belly just waiting to come out and amaze the world. Right after you, of course.”
"That would certainly be lovely. However, for now, I am concerned about him or her coming into this world as healthy as can be."
Just the other day she had heard about a woman who had become sick during pregnancy, resulting in her child being born deformed. While Elizabeth would still love her baby regardless of his or her appearance, her love would not be able to shield it from the judging world.
“You are in perfect health – the doctor said as much during his last visit. Our baby will be healthy and perfect. Just like you.”
She smiled. “Perfect is not a word I would use to describe myself.”
“To me you are. You made me the happiest man when you became my wife.”
He leaned towards her to kiss her forehead, her cheeks, even her nose, and finally a tender kiss on her lips. Elizabeth always became a pool of liquid when Anthony kissed her. She was a helpless woman under his spell, and she never wanted to be released. He broke the kiss to place his cheek against her belly, murmuring sweet nothings. Anthony enjoyed touching her belly, often talking to it even in the presence of company. He was utterly shameless about his love for her and their unborn child, not caring what people thought of him.
“Something tells me that our baby will be spoilt.”
He chuckled. “I do
not deny that.”
“I see how the future will be. I shall be the one to discipline, and you will be the one to console. Am I correct?”
“Again, I do not deny that.”
She laughed out loud. “We shall see.”
He grinned as he stood up, holding his hand out to her. "Come, sit on a more comfortable chair while I play something that I hope you and all our future children will enjoy."
“You have written something?”
“Yes, for the baby. It has been playing in my heart ever since I learnt that I was to be a father. It took some time to put on paper, and I am still perfecting it. But it is ready enough for a first listen. Perhaps you can tell me if I am on the right track?”
“You never cease to amaze me, Anthony.”
“And I would prefer to keep it that way.”
He helped her up, leading her to an armchair he had specially ordered to be made for her during her pregnancy. It had a support for her back and a footstool that she could easily push forward and back when she wished. Once she was settled, he kissed her belly and returned to the instrument.
“I have not given the lullaby a name yet, but I am open to ideas.”
She nodded. “Play, and we will surely come up with something.”
He turned to the instrument, wriggled his fingers, and started to play. Elizabeth was always one to judge a piece of music by the emotions that she felt. If it did not move her, then it was not something she would listen to again. This melody, however, brought quick tears to her eyes, filling her heart with contentment and peace.
As she sat in her chair, her mind travelled to thoughts of her sister. Was she as happy as she was? Cecilia had expressed inexplicable joy being married to Percy. It seemed they both had wonderful husbands who doted on them.
I should write her a letter, I am sure that she is due any moment now.
Not wanting to disturb Anthony, she tiptoed to her writing desk, took the stationery out of the drawer, and sat down to write her letter.
July 1816
Dear Ceci,
It is a beautiful day in London. The birds are singing, the sun is not too hot, and my flowers have bloomed. I am particularly happy about that as I was worried that they would die while I was away. After some time in the countryside, Anthony and I decided to return to the place where our love was born. We both thought it only fitting to celebrate our first anniversary here. It seems like just yesterday that we arrived in London for the season. I admit that I was none too happy about it, as you very well know, but it all worked out in the end.
The baby has been quite active during these last few months, especially when a good piece of music is played. I attended the opera a few days ago and found myself most distracted by the leaping in my belly. Just now, as I played a duet with Anthony, he or she started to wriggle so much that I had to stop. I wonder if I shall have a baby girl or a boy first? Anthony does not mind, neither do I. I merely hope that my baby will be healthy and whole.
How is your pregnancy? I know that you were slightly queasy for quite some time – Percy was worried that you would never have any sustenance. I do hope that you are able to eat more. I have been eating as a horse does which is terrible. Anthony assures me that I look radiant and beautiful, but I feel as though I waddle as a duck does. Mind you, Anthony would still love me were I a hundred pounds over my current weight. Not that I would get to that state. Some good exercise and keeping away from Cook's desserts will be a must once I have given birth. I had a strange craving for crushed peanuts on my porridge the other day, and you know that I am not fond of peanuts.
I think it simply wonderful that we are pregnant at the same time. I do wish that we could spend more time together, comparing notes about our pregnancies, encouraging the other when a day is quite challenging, but Anthony has been quite good about it as well. He seldom leaves my side, preferring to spend his free time with me. Our bedroom is now on the ground floor, which is odd but I have grown used to it. Do you remember my dizzy spells? Anthony was gravely worried that I would fall while walking up or down the stairs, so he has made me promise him not to venture on the stairs until the doctor assures him that my light-headedness is a thing of the past. I cannot deny him anything, and he knows it. Besides, he only wishes to take care of me, and if I must sleep downstairs in what used to be my parlour, then so be it. As I write this letter, he is playing a beautiful lullaby that he has written for the baby. It indeed is a lovely piece – I am holding myself from crying or there might be splashes on this letter.
Mama and Papa seem to be quite happy with each other, which is astonishing. I have never seen them act so kindly towards each other. Perhaps they have set their differences aside and reconciled? I certainly hope so. They were with us some days ago for a week or so. I am glad that Papa did not hold the false courtship against Anthony, or I might never have been allowed to marry him. He and Papa have become good friends and Papa absolutely adores him, as you know. Before they departed, Mama commented that she had the best sons-in-law in the whole of England, possibly the world. Anthony and Percy are fortunate to have in-laws who are not demanding or overly critical. It would have been a blessing to meet Anthony's parents, but that was never to be. We made a special visit to their graves a fortnight ago to pay our respects and replace the flowers we had left there during our last visit. They must have been good people to have raised a son like my husband.
Felton has found a special woman. He is not saying much about it yet, but I believe that courtship will be announced soon. I am happy for him and hope that she will be the one for him. Her name is Isabella Sykes. Perhaps you know of her? She is quite petite and blonde – I feel like an African elephant next to her. More so now that I am pregnant and near to popping out of my dresses. I have had new dresses made in the last month as my other ones have ceased to fit. My new dresses look as though several people could fit into them quite comfortably. I told Anthony to buy me material, and I would make the dresses myself, but he insisted that he did not want his pregnant wife to overwork herself.
I hardly do anything but eat, read and play music. I am allowed a stroll through the garden, but only when he is around. He is afraid that I shall have a fainting spell and fall, or even trip on an exposed root or a stone. This is our first pregnancy, so I suppose his worry is understandable, but I do wonder if he will do the same with the second baby? Oh dear me! I have not yet given birth and yet I am speaking about the next baby! I would like three, but Anthony would like five or seven – no even numbers. I have asked him why not four or six, but he is adamant that we are not to have an even number of children. He is a strange man at times, but I love him all the more.
I sincerely hope that our children will spend much time together and grow up as close as we have been. They will be cousins, but I would have them treat each other like brothers and sisters. There is nothing better than a family being united as one. Perhaps we can spend Christmas together by alternating as hostesses? One year can be at my house, and the following at yours. Of course, we will need to have a Christmas in our childhood home as well. I thought that we could do so this year? By then we will both be mothers with our own bundles of joy. I am sure that Mama would love to see her grandchildren, Father as well. The house must be empty without us, however, judging by their last visit to us here in London, they do not look strained.
Aunt Deborah and Uncle Noah send their love and request that you visit them before the year is out. I was with them just yesterday, and they are still the same adorable couple that we love. If we think about it, they also had a part to play in my happiness. To think that Uncle Noah had once wished to lay a hand on Anthony for my honour. Today, they are great friends. They will be leaving soon to travel to each of their children's homes and will be away for several months.
I ran into Miss Lambert during my time at the seamstress. She did not say much to me, but I did notice that she is not the same woman. Gone is that hard glint in her eyes. I honestly do not wish her any ill, an
d neither does Anthony.
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 55