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

by Emily Honeyfield

  “I forgot to mention,” Simon said uneasily. “Lady Susana is here this very night.”

  “What?” Emilia said, knowing that there was a chance that that could happen, but still in disbelief. “Then I suppose you can claim the revenge that you seek.”

  “I suppose,” Simon said, then turned towards Emilia quickly. “And I have just the idea how.”

  “How?”

  “Will you dance with me?” Simon said, putting out his hand. “I must warn you that I’m not a practiced dancer, and I will most likely make of a fool of myself, but your beauty will distract from all that.”

  “I cannot promise my own prowess on the floor,” Emilia said, taking his hand, “but I shall do my best.”

  Emilia was led onto the dance floor and could feel Simon grasping her hand tightly. She was just as nervous as he was but excited to be seen with such a wonderful man. As they began to dance, Simon’s modesty was proved once more, for yet again, he was expert at something that he denied being expert at. Despite his large frame, his steps and motions were rather fluid.

  “You have lied to me about your skill, sir,” Emilia said with a smile.

  “As have you,” Simon replied. For some time, they merely danced and smiled and enjoyed each other’s company. Occasionally, a step would be executed in error and both would laugh with one another. Emilia didn’t know the last time that she felt so much joy. And as she swirled about the room, not once did she spot Lord Huntley Pendergast. Although part of the plan was for him to see her madly in love with Simon, Emilia had to admit that she was relieved that she had not yet spotted his cruel face.

  When the dance was concluded, Emilia tried to catch her breath. She was so swept up in the joy of it that her entire body had been fully engaged. She could see that Simon was winded, as well.

  “We shall seek out more refreshments,” Simon said affably, and took Emilia by the hand to guide her. The feeling of her hand in his was even more delicious than taking his arm. Was this what it felt like to be utterly captivated by another? Emilia found herself wishing that the evening would never end.

  “You’re a beautiful dancer,” Simon said, and Emilia felt that customary flush come to her cheek.

  “I had forgotten how enjoyable it can be.”

  “As had I.”

  Simon handed Emilia a cordial, which was delightfully refreshing. As she sipped it, she looked around the room to try to locate Rose.

  “Did Lady Susana see you dancing?” Emilia asked.

  “I have to admit that I forgot about her presence entirely,” Simon replied, looking intently into Emilia’s eyes. His gaze was so focused that Emilia felt the need to look away.

  “I’m still moved by the story you told of meeting Kingsley,” Emilia said.

  “His presence moves me every day,” Simon said, and then his expression turned dark. “I’d do anything for him,” he added under his breath. Emilia watched as his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.

  “I feel the same way about my father. But the one thing I couldn’t possibly do was entrap myself in a loveless marriage.”

  “It would have made your father unhappy in the end, to see you unhappy.”

  “That’s exactly how I perceive it. Of course, it was hard to explain all of that to him. My father assumed that my happiness could be paid for.”

  “I intend to make a great deal of money. If only for your security—” Simon said, and then caught himself. Emilia looked to him in shock. “That is, my wife’s security.”

  “Indeed,” Emilia replied, not knowing what else to say. There was so much about the evening that was perplexing for her. Even though she was enjoying every moment, always at the back of her mind was the fact that she was pretending to be in a false engagement. Were the wonderful things that Simon said merely playacting? Did he look at her the way that he did to make a show of it? To protect her heart, Emilia had to believe so.

  “Emilia Spencer,” she heard a voice say, and turned to find Lady Belinda Crawford standing there with a dish of cake in her hand.

  “Lady Crawford,” Emilia said, giving curtsey.

  “I believe that your chaperone is asleep in the corner,” Lady Crawford said.

  Emilia turned to discover Hortensia seated in a chair, her head sinking down to her chest. “She is always falling off to sleep,” Emilia said humorously.

  “I had the great pleasure to meet your fiancé before you arrived,” Lady Crawford said, turning to Simon and eyeing him suspiciously.

  “Yes, Lady Crawford, this is my fiancé, Simon James.”

  “A pleasure yet again,” Simon said with a bow of the head.

  “I must admit that the news of this is already something of a scandal,” Lady Crawford said, lifting her brow.

  “I do not wish to create a scandal, merely to follow my heart,” Emilia said carefully.

  “Yes, that’s all the rage these days. All the ladies want to follow their hearts,” Lady Crawford said with a tight smile. “In my day, the heart had nothing to do with matters. But I suppose it’s a delightful sentiment.”

  Emilia felt her heart sink in her chest. No doubt, Lady Crawford couldn’t fathom why it was that Emilia presented a fiancé so suddenly, particularly when she was being courted by Lord Huntley Pendergast.

  “It’s not just a sentiment,” Simon said. “There’s no reason to spend the rest of one’s days with another if it’s not for love.”

  “Hmm,” Lady Crawford replied, lifting her brow once more.

  “Lady Crawford, how is the cake?” Emilia asked, wishing to change the subject at once. Being under the close scrutiny of Lady Crawford was no walk in the park.

  “Sumptuous,” Lady Crawford said, her expression changing immediately. She took a delighted bite.

  “I think that I need to try it myself.”

  “That is rather a good idea,” Lady Crawford said after having completed her chewing. “It will help to fill out your figure,” she added with a laugh. “If’ you’ll excuse me.” Lady Crawford turned on her heel to leave, cake still in hand. Once she was gone, Emilia found that she could breathe freely again.

  “That was not easy.”

  “That woman is formidable,” Simon said. Then, he walked over to the refreshments table to pick up a dish with cake, returning it to Emilia. “You requested this,” he said affably.

  “Yes. For my insufficient figure,” Emilia said flatly, taking the plate.

  “There is nothing insufficient about your figure,” Simon assured her, and Emilia turned to him. It was the first time that Emilia detected longing in his eyes to that degree. Yes, it was undeniable, and Emilia had to admit that she felt the same longing.

  “That is kind of you to say.”

  “It is the truth.”

  “I must say, your own figure is admirable,” Emilia said with a laugh, then felt like the greatest dunce that the world had ever known. Why did she say such a thing?

  “Thank you,” Simon replied with an embarrassed laugh.

  They stood there for a bit, Emilia taking bites of her cake. It was remarkably delicious, just as Lady Crawford said that it would be. The sweetness helped to revive her energy after so much exertion on the ballroom floor. Emilia nearly felt fully recovered from the encounter with Lady Crawford until she looked over Simon’s tall shoulder and saw a familiar figure walking their way.

  It was Lord Huntley Pendergast, and the fellow did not look pleased.

  Chapter 7

  All at once, Emilia’s expression changed, and a look of horror washed over her face. She quickly reached out, taking Simon’s hand and squeezing it tightly. Simon knit his brow in confusion, and that’s when he turned to find a rather stately-looking man approaching them.

  It had to be Lord Pendergast. Simon’s gut told him that it was true. He clenched Emilia’s hand in return and faced her once more, willing her to be calm. Simon would do everything in his power to ensure her comfort during the difficult encounter that was about to take place.

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nbsp; “Good evening,” Lord Pendergast said with a smile, and Simon was immediately surprised by the fellow’s appearance. From the way that Emilia described him, Simon thought that Lord Pendergast’s appearance would be quite offensive, but he found the man to be rather good looking. Not that Simon was a supreme judge of such things. Yet still, the man had an admirable head of dark hair, steady brown eyes, and a noble bearing. Could it possibly be that Emilia’s view of him wasn’t influenced by some deeper kind of repulsion than met the outside eye?

  “Good evening,” Simon replied, wishing to appear as affable as possible.

  “You’re looking ravishing tonight,” Lord Pendergast said, turning his eyes on Emilia.

  “I thank you,” Emilia said softly, not looking into Lord Pendergast’s gaze.

  “Allow me to introduce myself,” he went on. “I am Lord Huntley Pendergast, Duke of Westmoreland.

  Simon was in shock. Emilia had never mentioned that the fellow was a duke. From what he understood, he was involved in trade and was a member of the merchant class. Far from being in the merchant class, the Duke of Westmoreland was a rather weighty figure in society. How did Simon not know that Lord Pendergast and the Duke of Westmoreland were one and the same? In all fairness, Simon never followed the details of society, but he was pretty sure that the Duke of Westmoreland once commissioned a painting from Kingsley.

  “My name is Simon James,” Simon said with a bow of the head. “It’s an honour to meet you.” Just then, he turned to Emilia, whose eyes went wide, as though she was surprised by Simon’s pleasantries.

  “The honour is all mine,” Lord Pendergast said with a devilish grin. “I see that you have successfully courted Emilia Spencer,” he added haughtily. Maybe it was that aspect of Lord Pendergast’s character that repelled Emilia. Although dashing to the outside eye, Simon could already detect a kind of smugness that he did not care for, either.

  “I believe that I have done so, yes,” Simon replied.

  “Congratulations are in order,” Lord Pendergast went on. “I have been trying to accomplish that task for some time now. I must say, I thought I was being much more successful in the venture than I really was. Pity. I always get what I want.”

  “I don’t think that should apply to people,” Simon said with a laugh.

  “No, it shouldn’t,” Lord Pendergast said with a sigh. “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”

  To this, Simon didn’t know how to reply, for surely his desire for Emilia was not all about heart. For if it was, he would not have pushed her away and repelled her in the way that he did.

  “For some odd reason,” Emilia finally said, “I feel as though I’m invisible in this conversation.” Her tone was not combative in the least, but merely humorous.

  “Oh, yes. I do apologize,” Lord Pendergast said, turning to her. “I very much acknowledge your presence, Emilia. Although I must say, it does pain me to see you with another. Especially one without so much as a title.”

  “Sir,” Simon protested.

  “Oh, come on old chap,” Lord Pendergast said, slapping Simon on the back. “I’m merely teasing you. Titles are very much overrated in our society.”

  “I agree.”

  “Say, what is your station in the world?” Lord Pendergast asked warmly, as though he were genuinely interested.

  “I’m apprentice to a painter,” Simon replied.

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” Emilia said. “To Sir Gregory Kingsley.”

  Lord Pendergast’s eyes widened with wonder. “Is that so? That’s rather impressive, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a good position to be in,” Simon replied.

  “I have one of his pieces in my study,” Lord Pendergast went on. “I plan to commission another in the future.”

  “He’s grateful for your patronage.”

  “He needn’t be. The pleasure is all mine. I do have good taste in art,” Lord Pendergast said with a smile.

  “I can agree with that,” Simon said.

  “Now, this is all making sense,” Lord Pendergast said, turning to Emilia. “This is your chance to become an artist, just as you’ve always dreamt.”

  “The way that you say it sounds like I’m using Simon for his talents.”

  “Such a prospect is not unheard of.”

  “Please, don’t offend me,” Emilia said, looking away.

  “God knows I offend you easily,” Lord Pendergast said, and there was a touch of sadness in his voice.

  Yes, Simon was more confused by the minute. Although haughty, and what duke isn’t haughty, Lord Pendergast seemed a rather down-to-earth fellow, at least in comparison to some of the other society titans that Simon had met. He wished to ask Emilia why she had taken interest in him over Lord Pendergast. But then again, had she taken interest in Simon, or was everything for the sake of the plan?

  “And look who is coming our way,” Lord Pendergast said with a smile, turning to watch as they were approached by Lady Crawford.

  “Your Grace!” Lady Crawford said with grand enthusiasm, throwing her hands into the air. “Such an honour to have you.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I was particularly interested to meet my new friend, Simon James.”

  “Yes,” Lady Crawford replied dubiously. “Isn’t he something?”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Emilia said. “I’m in need of a glass of water.”

  “Let me get it,” Simon said, hoping that nothing was amiss.

  “No, I shall go,” she said, and from the look in her eyes, Simon was under the impression that she needed some space and fresh air, which he would grant her.

  “I do hope nothing is wrong,” Lady Crawford said, lifting her brow.

  “I think not,” Simon replied.

  Although there were many questions that Simon had with respect to the Duke of Westmoreland’s character, he had to admit that he could still understand Emilia’s hesitance. There was something about those bon ton figures, Lady Crawford in particular, which got under Simon’s skin.

  Although he was not finding it difficult to remain relaxed in their company, he could see how Emilia would not want to enter this world. The pressure and conformity lent an air of claustrophobia that Simon could palpably sense. Money or no money, Emilia wished to be free, and that was something that Simon could relate to.

  “Will we be seeing you more often?” Lady Crawford asked.

  “I must admit that I rarely find myself at such gatherings,” Simon replied.

  “What a pity,” Lady Crawford said.

  “That is the life of the artist,” Lord Pendergast said.

  “Yes, solitude is necessary for one to really hone their craft,” Simon replied, thinking that his words sounded ridiculous after he uttered them. In his mind, there was nothing lofty about painting. As soon as an artist began to think that their work was of the gravest importance, the painting suffered. There was no room for haughtiness.

  “I’m surprised, Lord Pendergast, that you’re not offended by Mr. James’ presence,” Lady Crawford said, again trying to stir the pot.

  “Well, Lady Crawford, you know more than anything else that I like a good bit of competition,” Lord Pendergast replied with a grin.