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Lord Atten Meets His Match

Page 6

by Jenni James


  “Is there? Well then, that settles it!” He linked one arm through hers, and with his other, he wrapped the reins of his horse around the branches of the closest tree. General did not look up from his munching on the grass at his feet. Indeed, he did not so much as swish his tail or bat an ear when the earl left him.

  “He is very obedient.”

  “General? Yes, I couldn’t ask for a better steed. He is a particular favorite of mine.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Can you?” He glanced her way, and she quickly looked toward the path they were headed down. After a few beats of silence, he spoke up. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

  Everything. The reasoning behind the feud, how hopeless this all was. “I do not know.”

  “You do not know, or you do not know how to approach the subject?”

  She took a deep breath and would not meet his stare. “The latter, of course.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, would it be easier if I broached it?”

  “Very well, if you think you can do a better job at it than I. Though how you suppose to know what I’m thinking baffles me.”

  “Does it?” He kept that silly grin upon his face and took a couple more steps before stating, “I assume you mean the disagreement our fathers had with each other.”

  She turned toward him. “Disagreement?! I’ll have you know, your father stole—”

  “My mother from your father the night before their wedding day. Yes, I know all about it now. It’s been a rather eventful sennight.”

  “Oh.” Her heart clenched a little. “Has it? It’s been more dreadful than eventful for me.”

  “And why is that?” he asked softly. His steps paused.

  Charity looked up at him and saw the same worry, frustration, and confusion in his eyes. “There is simply no way this will work. I mean, you and I shall not become a couple.”

  He took a deep breath and then rubbed his lips and nodded slowly. “No, you are correct. I too cannot see a way out of this. You are best to leave me to cool my heels in your drawing room rather than to speak with me.”

  “Everett! You know perfectly well I did not intend for you to come to the house at all.”

  “Yes, and I, in my eagerness to see your beautiful face again, left as soon as I could to the flower shop, and so I missed your note.”

  Charity stared at him then. She could not help herself. The bittersweet sorrow she felt was completely mirrored in his face. It was humbling, fascinating, and so very worrisome. “What are we to do?”

  He was silent far too long for her liking before he finally spoke. “We go our separate ways.”

  “Never to see each other again?”

  “Yes. As simple as that.”

  She attempted a smile. Only one corner of her lip moved up. “It is not so very tragic. We only properly met each other a week or so ago.”

  “Precisely! And even though I have often wondered who the lovely young lady was in the red chemise and with delectable cherries on her bonnet, it does not mean you and I were destined to be together.”

  She blinked. Destined to be together. What an outrageous statement to make! “Of course not. We were at best merely acquaintances looking to form a friendship.”

  “Yes.” His gaze devoured her features and settled on her lips. “A friendship is all we were hoping for.”

  She blushed. “Stop looking at my mouth. It’s very disconcerting.”

  “Is it?”

  “Very much so. I find myself thinking about the kiss we shared, and it will never do to allow my thoughts to wander there.”

  He placed a hand on her elbow and pulled her gently toward him. She should have pushed him away, called for her maid, anything! Yet, instead she allowed the very dangerous magnetism of curiosity to tug at her. Could he be attempting to kiss her in such a public place as this? Even she could not believe it of Lord Atten—and yet…

  “Why would you be thinking of a simple kiss if we were merely friends?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

  “Miss Charity!” her maid hollered. “I think it’s best we leave now.”

  The tension was broken, and both Charity and Everett looked over at the worried girl.

  “Certainly. Thank you, Bethany, for your timely interruption. I had not noticed the lateness of the hour.”

  “Forgive me,” Everett said. “Tell me she will not go and tattle to your mama about me closeting you just now.”

  Charity shook her head. “I do not know what she’ll say and to whom, though I am rather positive we gave quite a show.”

  “Yes, all that longing.”

  Charity rolled her eyes. How she wished she could push him into the Thames! “Longing? Whoever said either of us were longing for each other?” She quickly gathered her skirts and headed back down the path she’d come from.

  “I did. It’s only growing, you know.”

  She continued to walk, yet could not in all self-respect ignore his comment like she ought to have. “Of all the hideous things I have heard you speak of, your growing longing has got to be the most laughable.”

  He grabbed her elbow and halted her. Charity whirled around in surprise. Then without a thought to anything—the maid, the onlookers (there had to be several), the lateness of the hour, the path they were walking on—he kissed her. Quickly and softly and wonderfully exquisitely kissed her. Her poor heart was pounding, her legs were shaking—her very breath was hard to catch when he released her.

  Charity was a veritable mess! And could think of nothing more perfect than to turn around and kiss him once more.

  “Lord Atten!” gasped the maid.

  “Bethany, I can handle his impertinence, thank you,” Charity scolded the girl before turning very swollen and shaky lips toward Everett and whispering, “Please, I beg of you, do not ever do that again.”

  “You lie to me. Your eyes are pleading with me to kiss you again and again, your very shaking center quakes for me to hold you steady, those lips are quivering waiting for me to swoop down and taste you once more—and yet you tell the world’s worst fib and expect me to believe it.”

  “Everett! You know we cannot!”

  “I know we can’t. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to.”

  “My own mother’s sorrow. I must think of her! And my father, most likely at this moment, pining for your mother now that your father has passed on.”

  He winced. “You are correct. I hate it all the same, but you are most surely correct. We cannot continue.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lord Atten gently cupped her jaw and closed his eyes. “This is nothing. It is merely the thrill of the forbidden.”

  “Exactly! Yes. Precisely what this is.” She was relieved to truly understand. “We are only tossed so much around because we can’t be.”

  “Yes. And you saving me and mocking me—all of that was only a test of our patience.”

  Not exactly what she was expecting him to say. “Yes.”

  “And that farewell kiss was everything a farewell kiss should be. Not full of promise, but of goodbye.”

  Goodbye. She would never see him again. “Most definitely.” Her heart clenched at the thought.

  “Then I bid you a good day, Miss Waite. And I wish you the best of luck as well.”

  “And I you.” She graciously curtsied and he gave a short bow and then brought her all the way to her waiting maid. The poor thing had her eyes wide.

  “Here she is, Bethany. You can bring her home safe and sound. I promise to leave you both alone forever.”

  “Forever,” Charity whispered, her heart catching in her throat. It was not until that moment that she began to wonder if she would be able to live without him.

  Charity watched as he removed the reins from the tree and climbed onto General. His eyes met hers briefly once more, and she would never deny the longing she saw in them. The yearning they would both now completely snuff out.

  “Farewell, my knight.” He tipped his hat.
/>   A surprise chuckle rose out. “Godspeed, my damsel. I wish you the best.”

  “No.” He frowned, suddenly serious. “Do not wish for me what I cannot have.” The earl turned his horse then and rode away, his fine figure holding his seat nicely as the large beast was given head to fully run.

  “Miss?” Bethany asked. “Miss, we truly must get home.”

  Charity turned toward her. The heaviness in her chest seemed to hold her captive momentarily. “Have you ever been in love, Bethany?”

  “Me, miss?” She seemed shocked. “Nay, not that I know of.”

  “Me neither. However, I suspect it would feel something like that.” She nodded toward the spot where Lord Atten had been standing.

  “Perhaps so, miss. He is most charming.”

  Charity gave a sad smile. “He is so very much more than that. I doubt there is another man in England his equal.”

  “Well, mayhap you should go to Spain.”

  “Bethany?” Charity looked at her maid for a brief moment before bursting into laughter, her heart lightening. “Yes! Thank you—that is precisely the perspective I needed. Now, let us return home before I begin to fancy myself lost amidst the pages of a Shakespearian tragedy.”

  “You are too strong-willed to be a Juliet, miss.”

  “Aye, you speak the truth. I am much more determined to play the part of Beatrice than simpering Juliet any day.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN:

  Lord Atten climbed the stairs to his rooms in a regular tiff before retracing his steps and stopping outside his mother’s rooms instead. He had heard she’d returned from Bath while he was away from home all day. As he was preparing his thoughts on what to say to his mother, Chaplin, his valet, walked past.

  “Your mother is downstairs playing whist with a few of her friends in the gold-and-white parlor.”

  “Oh, thank you, Chaplin. I would have knocked upon the door looking the fool had you not happened upon me.”

  “We wouldn’t want that.” He gave a short grin and then hobbled down the hallway.

  Everett watched the ancient man and wondered if he’d just been mocked.

  Chaplin turned at the top of the stairs. “Are you coming to get your clothes changed? You know how your mother feels about visiting with guests and not looking your best.”

  “Very well. I’ll be there shortly. Please set out something suitable for a small game party.” He glanced back at the valet. “Are they here for dinner, too?”

  “Possibly. Lady Atten was giving Cook orders when I left to find you.”

  “When did you actually begin your journey to find me? Was it last Tuesday?”

  The old man grinned and then pointed his finger at him. “I’ve outlived two earls. Do not make me wish to outlive you too.”

  “Chaplin! Are you threatening me?”

  He stood a little straighter and winked. “Only if you see it that way, my lord.”

  ***

  Long after the guests left, Everett and his mother, Lady Annabelle Atten, sat in the gold-and-white drawing room sipping coffee and discussing the events of the household, her trip, and other inconsequential things. Everett would have brought up the subject of his late father and Lord Waite, but he found he was simply too exhausted to begin on that tangent. He needed all of his wits about him before he attempted something as delicate as that conversation. In fact, he had just convinced himself it was time to retire for bed when his mother astonished him.

  “So, Everett, dearest, why have you become the center of rather interesting gossip as of late?”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  She laughed. “No, do not attempt to pull the wool over my eyes. You know perfectly well what I am speaking of. Now out with it. Did you or did you not kiss a certain young lady in the middle of Hyde Park this afternoon?”

  He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Mother, it is far too late in the evening to go into this right now.”

  “On the contrary. I would like to get to the middle of it. Tomorrow morning, this very room shall be abuzz with women pressing me for as much information as possible.”

  “I will never truly comprehend the female mind and why she must know everything there is to know about nothing that is hers to know.”

  “Enough, son. You will not bait me with your nonsense tonight.” She sat her small mug down and then rearranged her skirts before asking rather archly, “And by chance is the young lady you were kissing Lord Waite’s daughter?”

  His chest tightened. “Yes.”

  She took a deep breath. “I see. And is this perhaps why you do not wish to speak to me of it?”

  “Mother, I have no desire to harm you any more than I wish to harm Lord Waite or his kind wife. Yes, I kissed Miss Charity Waite in the middle of Hyde Park. And I kissed her last week at the Hamsons’ engagement ball as well.”

  “Everett!”

  “I know, I know. It was foolish of me, and I realize that—we both do. And we have vowed never to see each other again.”

  He glanced over. Lady Atten’s hand was covering her mouth. Indeed, she looked very astonished. “You have compromised her!”

  “I . . . did. I know this. But she does not wish to have me. She does not wish to harm her own family, and so we shall part ways and continue on as if it never did happen.” He shifted in his chair and crossed one leg over his knee. “Why did you never tell me what really happened between you and Father and Lord Waite?”

  “Because I had hoped it would become a distant memory. I had hoped both your father and Lord Waite would eventually come to a truce and realize that what had happened was for the best.”

  “And was it?”

  “What do you mean? Of course it was! I had been in love with your father for ages, but my parents were so set on his closest friend that no one would listen to me. It was not my idea to run away to Greta Green—you must know that. I had enough honor to be extremely vexed when Chester came into my window that night. And even more when he wrapped that hideous handkerchief around my mouth when I threatened to shout the house down. I cried when he carried me out the window and then tossed me into his coach. He was such a brute!”

  “My lands! You were kidnapped?”

  “Yes! Unwillingly so!” She shook her head. “Yet no one would believe me. They knew how much I loved the earl. It would seem the only one truly shocked by my leaving was Herbert Waite.”

  “But how did Father get you to agree to marry him once you were in Scotland?”

  “Oh!” She waved her hand. “I was only angry with him a good hour or two. Once we were safely out of Cambridgeshire, he pulled the coach over, climbed in the back seat, and kissed me for the very first time. And then he told me how much he loved me and wished to marry me and could not fathom me marrying such a boorish man as Herbert Waite. And well, honestly, I had to agree.”

  “After that, everything was roses again?”

  She sighed. “Well, there was the scandal, of course. We were ostracized from several of the finest houses for a time. And that was exceedingly embarrassing, though I fear your father took the brunt of it. He was always worried over what others said about me, you know. He wanted the world to see me as he did. But eventually, all that wore off and the only real quarrel that remained was between Herbert and Chester. I think it’s been an unspoken rule among the Ton to be sure to keep you and Miss Waite away from each other.”

  “It is extremely interesting that the whole of society could keep such a secret amongst themselves. Why, it was not until a sennight ago when Miss Waite’s aunt, Lady Romney, invited her, and my friend, Lord Hamson, invited me to their engagement party that I was aware of what she looked like. And the worst of it is, we met first before knowing who the other was.”

  “And in that short time, you had already connected?”

  “Connected? If you mean, was I already interested, then yes. My heart beat strangely for the gel almost immediately we met. And to be honest, I was not overly concerned once I found
out who she was until much later when the story of what happened between all of you was finally divulged.”

  He shook his head and stood up. “And by then, we both knew it was a hopeless mess, and so after speaking about it this afternoon, we have decided to go our separate ways and think no more about it.”

  Lady Atten stood up. “Which would be just as a well if not for the fact that now half of London has heard about the kiss! And though no one could identify the young lady in the park, many have said they saw you speaking with her at the Hamsons’ ball and so have naturally put two and two together.”

  “This will blow over. You know it will.”

  “Everett, are you out of your mind, son? Of course it will not. Why, the women who came tonight are already calling it the scandal of the season! And with it comes all the dredged-up rumors of me and poor Chester, and Herbert and now his wife. I cannot imagine what will become of this all! It will only grow. You know the Ton well enough to comprehend that. It will only worsen.”

  “Well, if Miss Waite and I decide to remain apart, and give nothing for the gabblemongers to gabble about, it must die off eventually.”

  “How could it?” She laughed. “Especially when this sort of thing is the exact type of juicy tidbit they all wish to happen?”

  “Whatever are you saying, Mother?”

  “I’m saying, dearest, that you and Miss Waite may attempt to stay away from each other all you want, but now the gossips will be hoping for just the opposite. Why, nothing is more exciting than forbidden love. And mark my words, they will stop at nothing to guarantee you two find that love.”

  “Are you saying they will expect a wedding by the end of the season?”

  “Not just expect it—they will all attend!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN:

  Five nights later, Everett stormed up to Lord Hamson and Lord Compton at the Percevals’ dinner party. It was still a bit early, and the two of them were in the great hall admiring a set of pistols Lord Perceval had received for his thirty-first birthday.

  “Look, Atten! Have you seen anything more spectacular?” asked Alistair Compton as he turned the carved handle of the pistol under the candlelight nearest. “I have never seen its equal.”

 

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