To Catch the Candid Earl: Regency Historical Romance

by Eleanor Keating

  If she appeared well put together, though lacking in jewels, she was certain of attracting the attention of at least one of them.

  Lucy thought, If my plans go well at the dinner party, I might finally have a chance at my greatest dream after all.

  A small, familiar knock at the door distracted Lucy from her thoughts of her future plans and the dinner party.

  "Come in," she answered, already knowing it was Caroline before the maid pushed the door open, a smile on her face.

  "Miss Lucy, do you mind a little stroll to the market on some errands? I'm trying to avoid a meeting with Billy Murdock and the dreadful man is determined to unsettle me in the worst way possible."

  Lucy couldn't help a grin at the faint blush creeping into Caroline's cheeks. "Billy, the apothecary's assistant?"

  The maid's evasive gaze told Lucy the answer, and she dissolved into laughter. It wasn't much of a secret that the young man in question was incredibly fond of Caroline and desired to court her. But the maid, who dreamt of advancement in her station, was mortified by all the attention. Caroline desired to become the housekeeper when Mrs. Wilburn grew too old to work anymore, and besides, it was almost impossible to maintain any form of relationship outside work.

  Being a servant required commitment and dedication, and by the time she was done attending to a vast array of duties, there wasn't much time left to pursue a romantic relationship. Besides, the Earl of Langford had a strict rule against marriages and involvements between the servants or outside of the residence because he felt it a distraction from their duties.

  Lucy secretly knew Caroline wanted something more than a life of servitude, and was masking her almost impossible desires with a quest for advancement in her station.

  "He is a nice bloke, you know. And I think you like him more than you let on," she told the maid pointedly.

  "Fiddlesticks! There isn't much good that would do me. I intend to work hard and replace Mrs. Wilburn, and he would be better off with someone else."

  Lucy refrained from convincing the maid she could have a chance at marriage. They'd had the conversation before and it hadn't done much good. It was one reason why Lucy couldn't wait to get married herself, and bring the girl with her. It would be an opportunity for Caroline to pursue her dreams.

  Lucy didn't have anything to do at the moment and fancied a stroll would do marvellously. Perhaps she could find some pretty pairs of buttons to sew into the sleeves of the dinner dress. She'd noticed a pair missing while inspecting earlier. Maybe something in silver or pale cream?

  "Let me fetch a shawl," Lucy told Caroline, and got up from the small cushioned bedside chair.

  "I'll be waiting by the door. Fergus is busy with the carriage, so we will have to take a brisk walk," Caroline replied, before exiting the room.

  A few minutes later, with the gray shawl adorning her shoulders and complimenting the cream day gown she had on, Lucy joined the maid at the entryway to the town home and they began the trek at a purposeful pace. It took approximately thirty minutes to reach Cheapside from Belgrave Square, and walking down the familiar streets filled Lucy with fresh vigor, which had nothing to do with the air but more to do with being in London and having the life she desired. It suited her well while she waited for an even better life, as wife of a noble, to begin.

  I would truly belong here as a gentlewoman. I just need a little more time to be noticed by the right gentleman, she convinced herself, slightly miffed at the pessimistic, questioning turns her thoughts took these days. Sometimes she felt less sure of her ability to find and attract that suitable man.

  The sun was lowering but the air was still hot enough to make Lucy sweat under her petticoats, and she felt her throat getting increasingly parched just few minutes into the walk.

  Some ladies were strolling leisurely on the streets, colored parasols in hand, accompanied by their maids and companions. They didn't seem to be feeling the hotness of the afternoon, and it was no secret why.

  If I had one of those parasols, this wouldn't be quite such a tedious chore, Lucy thought.

  But parasols cost a tidy sum, and she couldn't afford to have new gowns made, much less purchase a parasol. It was a fancy possession, and most ladies used it as a fancy accessory and protection against the elements.

  "Will the viscount and Lady Mary be invited to the dinner party her ladyship is hosting in a fortnight?"

  Lucy's longing gaze was drawn away from a well-dressed lady with a black parasol strolling on the other side of the street, and back to her friend whose expression was expectant.

  "I penned an invitation for Lady Mary at her ladyship's request. Her mother and Lady Agnes were good friends before her demise, and I'm sure she will be in attendance. I can't say the same for the viscount."

  The earl had been informed of the dinner, and would be present, which made it certain that Viscount Hilgrove also would.

  Lucy had a new focus on Lord Lancaster and Lord Redmayne. Both were extremely good looking, if not fastidious, and catching the attention of either would be better than her earlier dreadful thoughts of arousing the viscount's interest. He was already courting Lady Mary, and it was good riddance to him, she thought.

  They left the clean, well aligned streets near Belgrave Square, and headed down a small street called Westerly Crossing, which led them out to the east side of Cheapside. This bustling trade area was jam-packed with brick and clapboard shops and modest establishment which were often frequented by both nobles and commoners alike.

  Here, there was no segregation or discrimination. Having money to spend was all that mattered.

  Although, there had been a scandalous news report recently, in one of the gossip rags Lady Agnes openly hated and denounced among her peers, but secretly loved to read. The juicy story involved the Duchess of Ashbroke who had been caught sneaking into the side door of a pawnbroker's shop a week ago in disguise. There had been many speculations as to why the duchess had been there; from trying to recover some jewels, to pawning off some prized pieces. Lucy had even overheard ladies gossiping at the park last week that she had been meeting up with a lover, and the pawnshop was their rendezvous spot. Everyone knew the Duke of Ashbroke was a senile doddering old man far past his prime, and lacked the means to bring his young passionate wife satisfaction between the sheets.

  Lucy was inclined to believe the latter speculation. She had met both the duke and duchess at a ball held in an Almack's assembly room. Compared to the dour, strait laced duke, the duchess was spirited with a great deal of mischief hiding behind sparkling, emerald green eyes. Lucy had been drawn to her, not just because of her beauty and elegance, but her spirit. She looked to be a woman capable of fooling everyone, and having a good time while at it too.

  Lucy was so lost in thoughts that she mistakenly brushed against a short stocky man, standing beside the wall of an alehouse.

  "Look where yer going, missy!" he barked, righting himself.

  "Beg your pardon," Lucy apologized with haste, and moved away from the unkempt bearded man; the heavy smell of alcohol lingering in the air.

  "Go on now, you could have moved away when you saw us coming, you drunken sod!" Caroline's retort was sharp as she turned to glare at the man while they walked away.

  "I was distracted, girl. Pay him no mind," Lucy pacified her friend with a smile.

  "I'm sure he moved closer so he could make your bodies meet. Pig!" Caroline brushed the sleeves of Lucy's dress, in a bid to remove any invisible taint the man clothes had left.

  As they made a turn into Bond Street, and advanced further into the seedier part of Cheapside market strip, Lucy noted loose groups of men in faded top hats and thin threadbare coats, who huddled together, and around merchants and farmers who bore their wares on carts.

  They looked like hangers-on and the thought made her clutch her reticule closer. Due to the influx of people from the docks, and merchants who crossed over the Thames to sell their goods, there had been a high rate of crime and unsavor
y activities in the area. Young ladies were advised not to frequent the area on any business, and if said business was a must, they needed to be accompanied by a manservant or a companion. Lucy had been on numerous outings and errands to this part of town, and she felt a little nostalgic sometimes, as the chaos of the busy street reminded her of weekend markets in Wilshire with her mother. Except this was noisier, with the constant clatter of hackney coaches and horse cabs, mingling with the noise from merchants and farmers calling attention to their goods. The throng was thicker too, with well dressed women and men of lower gentry mixing with commoners, servants, and men as well as women of trade.

  Sighting a clothier and haberdashery by a tall gas lamp, Lucy reached for Caroline's hand to bring her to a halt. Pointing to the shop she said, "I need some buttons, girl. Would you care to find me when you've exhausted all of the errands on your list?"

  "Certainly, Miss Lucy. I will only be gone for a few minutes. A dash to the spice market and an order for flour, and I'll be back immediately," Caroline rejoined, then added with a frown, "If only that wretched Billy doesn't press upon my time."

  Lucy smiled, without saying a word as Caroline hurried away, the basket she held swaying roughly by her side.

  The maid had immediately disappeared into the throng of people ahead, Lucy dashed into the haberdashery, and was immediately confronted by three pairs of eyes.

  She smoothed down her gloved hands over the front of her dress. and approached the bulky, pleasant-faced owner, as well as the two other women who looked to be gentry by the fashionable state of their gowns, and hats decorated with embroidery flowers and plumes of dyed feathers.

  "Welcome, miss," the haberdasher greeted with a warm smile, bobbing a dignified curtsy.

  Lucy stomped down the attack of nerves she felt at being addressed in such a respectful manner. I've got to learn how to accept things like this as my due. I'll be the wife of someone important and titled soon.

  "Thank you, ma'am," Lucy heard herself say with restrained negligence, and fostered a confident smile, while sneaking a glance at the women whose attention had returned to the bales of silk and taffeta fabrics on the showcase table.

  The shop wasn't overly large, but it was spacious and in every corner there were shelves and tables piles high with clothes, while dummies were covered in half-completed, readymade gowns.

  "I would like some buttons. Ten to fifteen pairs would suffice," Lucy informed the woman who hurried over to a set of small drawers and pulled one open.

  "What colors would you be interested in, and do you want them in any particular style?"

  "Medium sized, in shades of cream and gold," Lucy answered, and found her eyes straying to the blue silk fabric one of the ladies was holding close to her bosom.

  "This is so soft and rich, Maude. I would want my gown in this colour and material, and maybe another one in this pale pink," the blonde gushed, running fine manicured fingers along a silk taffeta material held up by her companion.

  "You have a good eye, Celeste," the dark-haired, slim lady commented. "I already have my mind made up about the burgundy silk or I surely would have gone for this blue. The shade is absolutely brilliant. "

  The materials the women held up looked expensive. Lucy imagined how it would feel to have a dress made from them, and wear it to an evening soiree. She imagined twirling around the dance floor, feeling the softness of the fabric brush against her skin. There would be a lot of compliments given, and a host of admiring glances from everyone in the room.

  It was something she couldn't wait to experience when she finally snagged for herself a rich husband.

  That was the main reason why it was imperative that she looked her best at the dinner in two nights. Who knew when next Lady Agnes would be inclined to host another event?

  While the haberdasher searched the drawers for the buttons Lucy had requested, she used the time to look around the well-stocked shop. Three local tailors and embroiderers sat on stools scattered around the room, each bent over and engrossed in their task; their fingers working tirelessly over seams as they made repetitive stitches and embroidery.

  Lucy was suddenly hit by waves of memory: the days spent hunched over low burning candles, sitting on rows of wooden benches in the gray sewing hall of the workhouse; the air stale and the light dim; mending and altering gowns with the rest of the poor womenfolk. The hours were long and by the time she was done with her daily quota, her fingers were often aching and tired with cramps that she massaged out with dabs of smelly, homemade ointment secretly given to her mother by one of the workhouse cooks.

  Shuddering, she looked away from the dressmakers. Never again will I live like that, she promised herself. I will smell of rosewater and jasmine, not pig grease and bitter herbs.

  "Here are your buttons, miss. That will be five pence.

  Lucy turned to the haberdasher and accepted the small package of folded paper she held out.

  "Thank you, ma'am," Lucy said and dug in the reticule fastened at the side of her gown to fetch some money, which promptly disappeared into the pocket folds of the woman's skirt.

  "You should employ the services of my seamstresses if you'd like to have your gown embellished, altered, or reworked. It would benefit greatly from some embellishment and embroidery, and perhaps you don't have the time to do so," the haberdasher said. "My assistants are very competent, and we take much work from women of genteel breeding."

  Smiling, Lucy refrained from pointing out just how accomplished she was at those tasks, but rather deposited the buttons in her reticule and drew the drawstrings closed.

  "I'll give that some thought, ma'am, thank you very much" she said, and pulled back her shoulders, before stepping out of the shop as daintily as possible for the benefit of the other women whose attention was once more riveted on her.

  As she emerged onto the sidewalk, Caroline was hurrying towards her with a grinning, tawny-haired young man in a plain white shirt tucked into the waistband of close-fitting, black trousers.

  Lucy assumed it was Billy, Caroline's handsome mysterious beau, and smiled to herself at the disgruntlement on her friend's face.

  "Come on, Miss Lucy. Let's be on our way. This man right here has refused to stop making a fool of himself, which is becoming exasperating!"

  Billy, whose grin grew wider, bowed gallantly to Lucy, a hand behind his back like a proper gentleman.

  "A pleasure to meet you, lovely miss. Would you permit me the liberty to comment on how fetching you look with that little dainty hat balanced perfectly atop your pretty hair?"

  Lucy fingered the hat she wore, an old gift from her ladyship, and found herself blushing; she couldn't resist it. Billy was charming, much too charming, and he was well aware of it judging by the impish light in his dark green eyes. Her friend stood no chance.

  "Thank you, Billy, for the wonderful compliment. Now be a dear, and stop troubling Caroline, will you? We must be on our way," she said, and linked arms with the maid who glared, albeit weakly, at her roguish admirer.

  "I'll be seeing you, fair Caroline. Don't think I won't be holding on to the hope that you will one day consider my heartfelt request," he said, before bowing once more to them and walking away, whistling.

  Lucy couldn't resist teasing her friend as they made their way out of the crowded Street, and back to Belgrave Square.

  "He is quite the charmer, dear girl. Methinks you protest too much."

  Caroline huffed in annoyance as they sidestepped a limping beggar holding out a tattered hat riddled with holes, while balanced precariously on a walking stick.

  "It's almost impossible for anything to happen between us and you know that, Miss Lucy. I don't see any point in denying the inevitable or getting my heart hung up on the impracticality."

  "What about a string of hope? I know how much you love children. Look at the way you always light up whenever Mrs. Chatham's broods are around," Lucy prodded, giving her friend an endearing smile.

  A look of longing c
rept over the protestation on Caroline's face, and for a second, Lucy caught a glimpse of the desires hidden beneath carefully constructed walls, right before they disappeared as quickly as sweets in a room full of children.

  Caroline looked away right then and gave a small shout, just as they crossed the street to the other side of the road, pointing to a strip of gentlemen's establishments lining the street ahead. Lucy followed her gaze to the Blue Pint tavern, where none other than Edmund Swinton, the earl's solicitor, stood by the corner speaking to two burly, menacing men

  Seeing his fine figure, with the afternoon sun gleaming and highlighting the tips of his copper brown hair peeking from underneath the hat he wore, Lucy felt a sudden streak of awareness surge through her body as it always did whenever she saw him.

  She'd certainly seen more handsome dashing men, for London was rife with them, from viscounts to dukes, earls, and the occasional handsome stable hand, but Edmund was in a class of his own

  She felt skitters of unease as she studied his facial expression, fraught with tension and ill, while the men looked like they were standing much too close for comfort.

  A bothersome thought crept into her head right then.

  Could this have anything to do with why he was frequently at the house and always look troubled when he left the earl's office? He had told her the other day that he needed to attend to something for the earl, and refused to give details even after she'd continued to pester him.

  Was the earl involved with the reason why Edmund was speaking to these ill-mannered men? It was hardly a secret that the earl was always involved in nefarious, evil things.

  Lucy needed to hear well.

  She whispered, "Come on, Caroline, let us move closer. And take care to lower your face so he doesn't see us." The maid's features were tight with worry.

  They walked at a sedate pace, past a milliner's shop, and the famous pawn shop where the Duchess of Ashford was rumoured to have been seen on a love tryst.