The Wild Passion of an Eccentric Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  “Surely, I don’t look good enough,” Rose said, standing beside her sister and looking in the mirror.

  “You look ravishing,” Emilia said, throwing an arm around Rose’s waist.

  Momentary panic came over Emilia as she realized that she had not seen Simon James since that first encounter at Montgomery House. When he came to pay a call the following afternoon, Emilia had absented herself because she was afraid of what her emotions might give away.

  She had taken Rose for a stroll in the park, and when she returned to the Spencer home, her father was in his study marvelling at a painting. After Emilia was told that the painting was a gift from Simon, she fully inspected it and found that it took her breath away. Her instincts had been right all along. Simon was the gifted painter that she assumed he was. Now, if he was only the gifted husband that she knew he could be.

  “Did you invite him to the Crawford ball?” Rose asked, still full of questions.

  “Father did,” Emilia replied.

  “I’ve never met a painter before,” Rose said.

  “Of course you have, you ninny,” Emilia replied, squeezing Rose’s ear. “I’m a painter.”

  “You don’t count,” Rose said, twirling her hair. “You’re a girl.”

  Emilia froze. Naturally, her sister didn’t mean to offend her. The statement merely came from ignorance, and Emilia felt it her duty to amend it. “You mustn’t say such things,” Emilia instructed.

  “What things?”

  “What you have just said.”

  “But it’s true. You are a girl.”

  “Women can do whatever it is that their hearts desire, and be taken just as seriously as men. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  “But . . .” Rose said in confusion, looking down at the ground.

  “Don’t sulk. It was a minor error. But if you limit the other women that surround you, you’re ultimately limiting yourself,” Emilia said with a nod of the head.

  “Very well,” Rose replied.

  Emilia didn’t wish to scold her sister but to merely impart a lesson. It would be a lesson that was for her own good.

  “The carriage is here,” Emilia said, rushing over to the window and looking down at the street.

  “How lovely!” Rose replied. The two girls grabbed their reticules and rushed out the door and down the stairs. Dominic and Clyde greeted them in the hall.

  “Everyone ready?” Dominic asked.

  “These old bones,” Hortensia, head laundress of the home, said. The old lady feebly got up from her chair. It was something of a source of humour for Emilia that poor Hortensia was always given the job of chaperoning the Spencer girls when they went out. But considering that they didn’t go to many social events, there was no sense in hiring a full-time chaperone to complete the task.

  “I’ll see you off, then,” Dominic said, opening the front door and seeing the girls to the carriage. Emilia felt her heart beat wildly in her chest. Although Simon would not meet them at their home, he’d be there at the Crawford ball waiting for them. Would he be dressed to the nines, as well? Emilia was flooded with anticipation. Although he looked dashing enough in his plain artist’s clothing, Emilia could only imagine what he looked like in breeches and waistcoat.

  “Goodbye!” Rose said happily as she hung her head out the window.

  “Have fun,” Dominic said, waving his hand.

  Sitting in the carriage and swaying from side to side, Emilia watched as Hortensia continuously nodded off. She tried to conceal a giggle. Poor Hortensia might have to sleep in the coach for the entirety of the night, but this did not daunt Emilia in the slightest. She wanted as much private time with Simon as she could possibly have.

  “You realize you haven’t yet told me how you and Spencer met,” Rose said precociously.

  “Simon.”

  “Simon.”

  “There’s not much to say. We happened to meet at an artist’s studio and fell in love at first sight. The rest is history.”

  “I want to fall in love at first sight,” Rose said, looking out the window.

  “I can tell you that it’s quite a shock. I didn’t intend for such a thing to happen. I knew that Father wanted me to marry another. But once I beheld Simon James with my own two eyes, I knew that he was my destiny.”

  “So romantic,” Rose said with a sigh.

  “Yes, it is,” Emilia replied, wondering if she should consider herself to be the most terrible sister on the Earth. She was blatantly lying to Rose. Or was she? Was Emilia recounting what actually happened the first time that she saw Simon? Anticipation for seeing him flooded her yet again.

  “Father says that Simon is a wonderful artist,” Rose went on.

  “He is. I think he may be a great one day.”

  “And what about you?” Rose asked. “Will you continue to paint after you are married, or will you devote yourself to your husband?”

  Seeing that it was another good lesson to impart, Emilia turned to her sister. “You can do both, you know. It’s possible to marry and also do the things that you like to do in life.”

  “But there’s not enough time in the day!” Rose protested.

  “How much time do you think it takes to love one’s husband?” Emilia asked playfully.

  “Oh, I would think it to be an endless chore,” Rose said, swooning. “All day long tending to his needs and making sure he’s happy. Marriage sounds like a job in and of itself.”

  “I suppose that it can be,” Emilia replied with a laugh. “I do think that being married to Lord Pendergast would have been a full time job.”

  The two sisters giggled with one another until they heard a snore come from Hortensia’s nose. The old maid then woke herself up by the sound of it and looked startled. The two girls giggled once more. “Are we there?” Hortensia asked.

  “Not quite,” Emilia replied with a warm smile. Although the presence of tired Hortensia was always humorous, she did harbour a great deal of respect for the woman and wished that she might be able to fall asleep again soon. Sure enough, within moments, Hortensia’s eyes closed again, and she was fast asleep.

  “You know, do you not,” Rose went on, this time her tone low and hushed, “that Lord Huntley will be at the Crawford ball.”

  Although a shudder of fear went down Emilia’s spine, she managed to smile to herself and sit up straight. “I am not afraid,” she said.

  “Truly? Don’t you think the man will be incensed,” Rose said. “He was courting you one moment, and the next, not only are you being courted by another, but he’s also your bloody fiancé!”

  “Rose, mind your language.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I think that it behooves Lord Pendergast to hold his tongue. The fellow had to have known that my affections were not his. Whenever I was in his presence, I’d go cold as a fish.”

  “Oh, men don’t care about that. When they want something, they take it.”

  “There is some truth to that,” Emilia replied under her breath. “Anyhow, men hate to have a woman that they are courting have affections for another. I think that as soon as Lord Pendergast sees me with Simon, he will experience such distaste that his eye will stray elsewhere.” Not only was that Emilia’s hope, but she was counting on it. It was the very basis of she and Simon’s plan.

  Lord Pendergast was of such an arrogant nature that Emilia had to consider that it could swing one of two ways. Either he would remove his affections and their plan would be a success, or he’d become so angry that he would become more determined to win Emilia’s hand. She desperately hoped that it was not the latter.

  “I’m unsure, Emmie,” Rose said, her voice still hushed. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to be trifled with. I do hope that Simon is big and tall.”

  “He is very big and very tall,” Emilia assured her sister, then a wave of heat came over her, and a flush appeared on her cheek. Emilia was grateful that it was dark within the carriage so that her sister didn’t see. No doubt, she w
ould be teased for it. Or at the very least, it would lead to another endless barrage of questions.

  The rest of the ride was undertaken in silence as Rose looked out the window. There had been a gentle rain that day; the storm that Emilia had seen off in the distance would not abate for several days. This fresh rainwater left a glow upon the London streets and there was crispness in the air. As Emilia enjoyed the scenery, she did her very best to remain calm. Rose was right.

  Emilia would need to proceed with caution that night so as not to spike Lord Pendergast’s ire. But on the arm of Simon James, would anyone or anything truly be able to harm her? Emilia didn’t think so. She would be as safe as could be, and what’s more, she would hang on the arm of a man that had captivated her imagination. So much about the plan was already working out perfectly, but that evening’s ball would be a test in how things were going to proceed from there.

  Chapter 6

  As Simon stood in the Crawford ballroom, he felt highly out of place and mildly confused. If felt as though everyone in the room was staring, but it was mostly just the ladies. They smiled at him bashfully. Although Simon was used to their attention, it was magnified to a degree that he had not experienced before. Simon assumed that it was the handsome suit that he was wearing.

  Simon couldn’t remember the last time that he had worn a suit. His mother always entreated him to wear one on special occasions, but often Simon would decline. The thought of it made Simon sad as he considered that he had not seen his mother and father in years. The very moment that they both said they would disown him if he became an artist, he decided that disownment was best.

  There was no looking back after that. Simon took to the streets and sketched upon buildings, ultimately being discovered by Sir Gregory Kingsley. Although his life had been unorthodox, it did not concern Simon. Until Lady Susana broke his heart, it seemed that doors were constantly opening for Simon, and everything was going to plan.

  Standing in that ballroom, Simon had to admit that life was continuously taking him to unexpected places. Although all the pageantry around him was not his cup of tea, he could still admire it all with an artist’s eye and think of how he might depict the scene had there been a canvas in front of him.

  What’s more, Simon wished that one day, the bon ton that surrounded him might commission him to paint portraits of themselves and their families. To become a well-respected portrait artist in Britain was no small achievement. Simon was confident that he could do it.

  And, did he want Emilia by his side as he did so?

  He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Simon was disappointed that she was not at her home when he paid a call to Dominic, but it only created greater anticipation for when he would see her that night. Would they dance with one another? Although he learned country dances in his youth, since devoting himself to painting, he had not stepped out onto any ballroom floor.

  He feared that he might make a mockery of himself were he to dance with Emilia. But all that worrying aside, Simon felt joy. It was remarkable how much of the plan had already been successfully executed in such a short time. He was pleased that Dominic accepted his painting and his desire for courtship. The only real threat now was that Simon felt inclined to court Emilia in earnest.

  As the ball continued, Simon looked over at the clock and then around the room once more. There was no Emilia. How horrible would it be if the girl didn’t show up at all? The thought occurred to him that Lady Susana could very well be at that ball.

  Although the sight of her might break his heart and his pride all over again, Simon knew that by having Emilia by his side he would have the desired effect upon the lady that shunned him. He imagined the look of surprise and dejection on Lady Susana’s face, and it brought him pleasure. Then, Simon thought better of it and decided that hurting the woman was not the goal. Having her plead for forgiveness was the goal.

  To entertain himself whilst he waited, Simon took a stroll around the room and examined the paintings. Some of them were mediocre at best, but then he happened upon a painting of a mystic waterfall and was struck dumb. Simon leaned in close, examining every brush stroke to learn what he might, and that’s when it occurred to him that the brushstroke was entirely familiar.

  Looking down at the signature in the corner of the painting, Simon saw the timeless signature of Kingsley. He never signed his paintings as Sir Gregory Kingsley. It was always plain Kingsley. Simon thought it correct that he should do so, because no other name was necessary.

  Once the name of Kingsley was read, everyone knew who it was. Simon dreamed of having that kind of mystique one day. What would he sign? Simon? James? Neither of those names seemed to suffice, and he banished the subject from his mind.

  “Isn’t it stunning?” a voice asked, and Simon turned to discover a rather rotund woman with flushed cheeks.

  “It is, indeed,” Simon replied, not knowing who the stranger was.

  “I’m Lady Belinda Crawford,” she said, putting out the back of her hand to be kissed.

  “I’m so incredibly honoured,” Simon said, bringing a hand to his chest and reaching out the other hand to take Lady Crawford’s. He kissed her delicate satin glove and stood upright yet again.

  “May I ask who you are?” Lady Crawford asked.

  “My name is Simon James.”

  “And what brings you to my house?” Lady Crawford asked, unable to release the tight smile that she constantly held on her face.

  “I’m escorting Emilia Spencer.”

  “Oh,” Lady Crawford said. The look upon her face expressed confusion. Simon assumed that this was because all of society knew that Lord Huntley Pendergast was courting Emilia Spencer.

  “She is my fiancée.”

  Simon was cutting to the quick. There was no need to be furtive. He and Emilia had a plan, and Simon intended on carrying it out, and with haste.

  “That is rather shocking,” Lady Crawford said, bringing a hand to her cheek.

  “It does not shock me in the least,” Simon said with a smile, wishing to be humorous. But that was when he realized that his statement might have come off as impossibly conceited.

  “Well, do enjoy yourself whilst in my home,” Lady Crawford said, a bit of suspicion in her voice. “And bring Emilia my way after she arrives.”

  “I shall,” Simon replied warmly. It was only after Lady Crawford left that Simon realized that his heart was pounding in his chest. Pretending to be something that he was not was more difficult than he thought it would be.

  The sense of being out of place seemed to grow, and Simon concluded that it was time to take some fresh air. What’s more, he thought it best to greet Emilia at the front door to the estate. It was the gentleman-like thing to do.

  Making his way through the ballroom, Simon felt continuous looks upon him, but he shook it off. They could look all they wanted. He was about to greet the most beautiful woman of the lot of them, and the thought of it gave Simon immense satisfaction.

  Just then, a woman caught his eye across the room, and Simon felt every muscle in his body freeze. It was Lady Susana, and she appeared to be chatting with a group of friends.

  Simon knew that there was a chance that this could happen, but to actually see her was a far different sensation than he thought it would be. In fact, he wasn’t nearly as impressed as he imagined. Lady Susana’s beauty seemed to have dimmed in his estimation.