by Fiona Miers
There was nothing she wouldn’t do in order to help someone. Carson had great admiration for his older sister, as she had found her one and true passion.
Carson flattened his waistcoat against his shirt and stepped away from the mirror. The memories of last evening flashed before his eyes, and he could practically taste the wine he and Lizzie had shared in the stable. Although he cringed at the thought, he could not have asked for a better evening.
They had spoken of so many things, as if they were still young children without any troubles, or woes, sharing laughter and giggles. They’d consumed the wine until Lizzie had started to hiccough and giggle, their shared amusement even more intoxicating than the wine.
Of course, Lizzie had been more foxed than Carson – rightfully so, considering her diminutive size and inexperience. But she had been utterly delightful, childlike and innocent in her fun. Her words of truth still resonated in his mind.
Carson recalled ushering her to his coach, his arm around her waist in order to keep her upright and stop her from tipping over. She giggled as she spoke muddled words that amused her to no end, but he’d still been mesmerized with her.
He closed his eyes for a moment, recalling her beauty and how difficult it had been not to kiss her. Her long brown tresses had loosely tumbled down her narrow shoulders, her lips stained red from the wine.
The coach journey was even more entertaining than the stable, as they had reminisced even more about their childhood, bringing forth even more chuckles and laughter. There had been countless moments where Carson had to fight the urge not to kiss Lizzie, but he was well aware that it would have been wrong.
He could not possibly live with himself if he had taken advantage of her in such a vulnerable state. Also, he was certain that Lizzie would not have remembered anything, making it much worse.
Despite spending the entire night with Lizzie, he hadn’t been able to disclose his feelings for her. He was rather upset and disappointed in himself for not being forthcoming. Had he not tortured himself long enough by keeping his feelings inside?
Carson drew in a breath as he left his bedchamber and made his way down the large stairwell to the downstairs parlour. His sister adored that space, and it was where she often requested breakfast to be served.
The room was bright as he entered and the table in the centre of the room was already packed to the brim with delicious-looking breakfast fare. A small platoon could be fed with the amount of food on the table, but he expected no less from his sister.
The scent of fresh roses suddenly filled the air and he heard footsteps behind him. Adrienne stood in the doorway, holding a vase with the beautiful flowers and smiling brightly at Carson.
“Good morning, brother,” she greeted cheerfully, walking past him and placing the vase on the mantel. “I do hope you’re hungry.”
“Hungry?” Carson muttered. “With this much food, I ought to be famished.”
“It is not every day that I can enjoy a breakfast with my dear brother,” Adrienne shrugged and glanced at him.
Carson narrowed his eyes, knowing his sister well enough to see that there was a hidden agenda behind her perfectly poised smile. “What is the matter?”
“Nothing is the matter. Can I not simply enjoy a meal with you?” Adrienne asked as she sat at the table. “Now, sit.”
Carson reluctantly sat at the table as well, his gaze lingering on his sister. What sort of scheming was on her mind? But instead of attacking the problem head on, he chose his sister’s favourite topic.
“Are you still enjoying yourself at the hospital, Adrienne?”
As expected, Adrienne’s eyes sparkled at the mention of the beloved hospital and she nodded with great enthusiasm. “Indeed, Carson. If there is one place that brings me constant joy, it is the hospital. It is truly life-changing once a person finds their passion and a vocation for which they were meant. I simply cannot tire of expressing my love for what I do every day.”
Carson grinned. He admired the passion Adrienne felt from helping people at the hospital and wondered whether he’d ever have the opportunity to speak so passionately of something he loved.
As Adrienne continued to share amusing tales of the patients since the last time he had seen her, he quietly listened to her while his thoughts wandered.
How would Lizzie be feeling this morning? And would she recall all the details of the previous evening? Despite the night being long, he remembered every single moment of it. There was no better way to spend a tedious ball than with Lizzie, whether she was foxed on wine or not.
Would she be feeling under the weather? Hopefully she would not blame him, since she had been the one who had suggested taking two bottles of wine from the ballroom instead of one.
“Are you even listening to me, Carson?”
Adrienne’s voice echoed through the room and Carson glanced at her with a furrowed brow.
“Where did you disappear to, brother?” Adrienne demanded after he made no attempt to respond.
“My apologies, sister. I am rather distracted this morning.”
“I can certainly see that,” She answered and lowered her gaze. “Your excursion at Lord and Lady Wealing’s was, without a doubt, exhausting.”
Carson glared at his sister and cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”
“Do not act the fool, brother. I am well aware of the company you kept last evening,” Adrienne stated. “Do you think it is wise to be in the vicinity of that woman?”
“And what, precisely, do you mean by that?” Carson asked, though his gut tightened with a premonition that this conversation had just taken a turn for the worse.
“I am not foolish, nor am I oblivious to the happenings in town, Carson. People talk and the things I have heard with regards to Lizzie and her antics with Lord Dorset... not even to mention her scandalous behaviour last evening. I simply can’t believe that you were involved as well. Pilfering wine from the ballroom.” Adrienne clucked her tongue and shook her head. “You should not be in the company of such a woman. You are not aware of what her intentions with you are, Carson?”
To laugh and talk, and drink with me?
“You are certainly a fool for believing those Banbury stories, Adrienne.” Carson loudly placed his spoon on the saucer. “Furthermore, Lizzie did nothing to earn such disrespect from you, nor me. You are worried about the wrong person. I have known Lizzie for a long while, and she is not how Somerset describes her. They do not know her as I do. And nor do you, by the sound of it.”
Adrienne lifted her nose. “I am merely saying that it might hurt your reputation if you continue to keep company with her. You will be associated with her, and I would not wish for that to happen, Carson. Father would roll over in his grave if he found out you were placing the integrity of our family at risk,” Miss Adrienne stated flatly.
After what Mother did? Impossible.
“What nonsense you speak, Adrienne,” Carson growled. “Lizzie has more integrity than any of those ladies in attendance last evening.”
“Why do you defend her?” she demanded.
“Because she is my friend and I care for her very much.”
Adrienne cocked her head once more and momentarily narrowed her eyes. “You are in love with her.”
Carson straightened his spine. “I am not. I simply wish for her to be treated as the wonderful woman she is. She is a good person and she does not deserve to be shunned by the very women who had been her friends mere months before.”
Adrienne blinked a few times but did not speak. Carson could see in her eyes that she was mildly offended by his words, but neither of the siblings uttered another sound for a few moments.
Finally, his sister went on, “Regardless of what I think, or whether I believe the tales that have been making their rounds in town, I merely wish for you to think of what is best for you—”
“You mean for the family name.”
“Carson, we were raised by the same father, with the same morals and the
same rules. You are well aware of what Father would say if he were here today,” Adrienne said softly and drew in a deep breath. “Which is why I have taken it upon myself to arrange a meeting with a lovely young woman I met while—”
“No.” There was no way he was being set up for some sort of arranged marriage. The only woman he wanted in his home, his life, and his bed, was Lizzie Seymour.
“Would you please allow me to finish?” Adrienne asked and shifted her cup of tea closer.
“I am not meeting with a woman I do not know, Adrienne.”
His sister smiled brightly. “She is lovely, Carson. Her name is Miss Violet Saunders. She is a very intelligent young woman, the daughter of the chief magistrate in the neighbouring county.”
“No, Adrienne.”
“She is soft-spoken and has a beautiful mane of golden hair. She plays the violin and the piano—”
Sounds boring. “Adrienne, please stop.”
“Why? Because she is precisely the kind of woman who would be perfectly suited to you.”
How would his sister know what suited him? “You are well aware of my feelings in regard to marriage.”
“Not all marriages end like Mother and Father’s, Carson. It is rather unfair to compare all marriages to one that failed,” Adrienne argued.
“At that moment in time, it was the only one that mattered!” Carson stood from the table with anger tightening his gut and glared at Adrienne. “My answer is no.”
“That is a pity,” Adrienne shrugged and glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the parlour, “as she is expected to arrive shortly before dinner this evening.”
Carson glared at his sister and his jaw clenched. “You are a manipulative and self-righteous woman who does not care about anyone else’s opinions or feelings other than your own.”
“Father would be proud of me,” Adrienne answered nonchalantly as she sipped her tea.
Well, I’m not. Carson stepped away from the table and drew in a breath as he turned away.
“Where are you going?”
“I need some air,” Carson answered with a grumble.
“Please do ensure that you are back in time for Miss Violet’s arrival,” Adrienne answered with a smile, which made Carson even angrier.
He stormed out of the parlour, slamming the door behind him. The sound still echoed through the hallway as he retreated to the main entrance.
Chapter Five.
The fresh air and the delectable scent of the flowers in a porcelain vase perched in the centre of the table soothed the pounding inside Lizzie’s head. She was seated quietly on the terrace, immersed in a daze. Her memories of last evening were still rather unclear and it seemed as though the harder she tried to retrieve them, the quicker they evaporated into the light.
A cool breeze softly brushed her cheeks, providing much-needed relief from the heat that filled her body at regular intervals. A crystal glass with cold water stood on the table in front of her. The droplets on the outside of the glass sparkled like rainbow-hued diamonds, then slowly trailed down onto the wooden table.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned that way, leaving her hazy dream world. She drew in a breath and her limbs stiffened as she noticed Carson, looking rather dashing – as always – making his way across the lawn towards her. Much to her surprise, her heart pounded in her chest and she was unable to tear her eyes away from him.
What on earth is happening? But in all honesty, she had known for a very long time.
Had something occurred last evening that caused all these ancient feelings to rise to the surface once more? Of course, Lizzie was not bold enough to simply ask Carson, was she?
“Good morning, my lady,” Carson greeted her with a charming smile, but somehow it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Not too well, I’m afraid. It feels as though a coach rode over my head while I was asleep.”
Carson smiled encouragingly and approached the table. “May I join you?”
“Certainly, Mr. Wallace.”
Carson’s brow furrow, yet an amused grin lingered on his lips. “I see we have resorted back to formalities.”
“I wasn’t certain whether it would be appropriate to address you otherwise,” Lizzie answered, biting her lip.
“And why would it be inappropriate? You have addressed me by my first name for many years,” Carson stated.
“Because of last evening, and early this morn,” Lizzie admitted. “My memory seems to fail me, and I have no recollection of what happened after we returned to the ballroom. Apparently, we stole two more bottles of wine.”
“Which was entirely upon your insistence,” Carson chuckled and glanced at her. “What is the matter, Lizzie?”
“I feel rather ashamed with regards to my behaviour, Carson. I didn’t intend to drag you into the mess I made by acting so inappropriately,” Lizzie answered her friend truthfully.
“You did no such thing,” Carson insisted. “And I must admit that I have not had such an enjoyable evening in a very long while.”
“Truly?” Lizzie asked, surprised.
“Truly, my dearest Lizzie,” Carson answered. “You cannot recall the rest of the evening, at all?”
“Not in the least,” She answered. “Can you?”
“I remember everything,” Carson answered, and a sudden intensity lit up his eyes.
“We, I mean, you and I...we didn’t...” Lizzie stopped stammering and swallowed hard. How did one ask such a thing?
“No, Lizzie. You need not worry about that,” Carson assured her.
Partly, Lizzie was relieved that nothing intimate had happened between them, as she would have preferred to remember such an encounter. And partly she was disappointed that Carson had not thought of perhaps kissing her.
Perhaps he didn’t think of her in such a manner, which was rather disappointing also.
Or perhaps Carson was merely saying so to avoid any awkward questions from her.
“Was that what you were worried about?” Carson inquired.
“Indeed. I wished to visit you at your home, but I was not certain whether it was safe for me to do so. By now the entire county is aware of how I behaved last evening, and I am well aware that your sister does not think very highly of me,” Lizzie sighed.
Miss Adrienne had made it no secret that she was not fond of Lizzie, even from years prior. She had constantly reminded Carson that they were from different worlds and that women such as Lizzie expected a certain kind of life. Despite all those things however, he had chosen to be friends with Lizzie and spend time with her.
“My sister does not dictate whom I can and cannot have in my life.” Carson muttered. “And I enjoy spending time with you.”
Her breath caught in her throat at the declaration. After being rebuffed so often recently by those she’d thought to be her friends, it was heart-warming to know that she could count on Carson. No matter what.
“And I enjoy spending time with you as well, Carson, whether I remember it or not.” Lizzie chuckled.
“Do you recall that we made a pact that if neither one of us are married or betrothed by next Spring, we would marry each other?” Carson inquired.
His reminder made her blush, heat flooding her cheeks. “It is one of the few things I do recall, yes,” Lizzie answered sheepishly. “I do hope you didn’t find it a tad desperate?”
Carson waved his hand in the air. “Please, stop fretting. Nothing you do could ever make me see you in a bad light. I promise you that.”
Lizzie’s heart began to pound in her chest once more. She truly hoped that Carson would know how deeply his words affected her. How she desperately wished that he would embrace her and kiss her in the manner she had always dreamed he would. But alas, it had not happened.
“That is certainly good to hear.” Lizzie forced herself to say. “I am certain your sister does not feel the same.”
“I can say the same for your brother
s,” Carson chuckled. “His Grace and Will, although very good friends of mine, are certainly not to be countered. What makes matters worse is that you are their younger sister, and I allowed you to return home to in such a state.”
“My brothers are harmless.” Lizzie grinned with amusement.
“Are they here, at the estate?” Carson asked, his eyes widening as he glanced in the direction of the long hallway that led to the great hall.
Lizzie laughed once more and shook her head. “You do not need to fret over them. They are very fond of you, and very grateful that you took it upon yourself to ensure that I arrived home safely. The duke wishes to thank you personally, but he has not had the time to do so.” Lizzie’s expression turned bitter and a scowl formed on her lips. “He and the duchess are too busy in their efforts to evict me from Woodlock Manor.”
“Evict you?” Carson asked, his tones showing his disbelief. “Why would they wish to do such a thing?”
“They don’t want me here when the baby is born, which is soon. I am not the kind of aunt they wished I was,” Lizzie sighed, her heart tugging in pain.
She wanted to be around while her family grew. She didn’t want to leave because they were ashamed of her.
“Did they say that?” he asked quietly.
“They didn’t need to, Carson. It was written on their faces as clear as day,” Lizzie answered.
A quiet moment passed between them and Carson glanced at her. “What are you to do?”
Lizzie slanted her gaze over to the man she’d idolized since he was a boy. “Perhaps I can stay with you. That would most certainly give everyone in Somerset something to talk about,” Lizzie joked. “Adrienne’s heart would stop.”
Carson grinned at her, his eyes twinkling. “Indeed.”
Lizzie’s chuckle faded and she cleared her throat. “But in all honesty, I am not certain what my next step is. Perhaps I should accept my fate and behave like the proper young woman everyone expects me to be.”