Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two)

by Sandy Raven

  “Without a doubt. He’s not a successful barrister because he’s dense, that’s for certain.” Beverly returned her attention to the stack of acceptance cards to her ball before her on the secretaire. “Now, would you like to send a note around to Sinclair, telling him you’ve recovered and would like to see him? I know I was not mistaken about the glaring looks Michael gave you when you danced with him.”

  “No. The man failed to show up after saying he would and had I been home, he would have left me waiting for him with no explanation as to his disappearance. I should be angry with him, but instead I feel... nothing.”

  “Perhaps he had good reason for not coming around.”

  “And for not sending a note?”

  “Point made,” Beverly stated.

  Just then a knock on the door brought news from a footman that gentleman callers were in the morning room below asking if both young ladies were at home for visitors. “Tell them we will be down momentarily,” Elise replied.

  “This is good,” Beverly said once the door was shut. “More competition for the commitment-leery Lord Camden.”

  Michael and Ren lingered over another cup of coffee after the dishes had been cleared. Her Grace excused herself to write a letter to her brother and Ren’s littlest sister, still in the country.

  “You’re certain this Huddleston and his friend aren’t despoilers of innocents?” Michael wanted to make sure that they weren’t protecting Elise from Sinclair, only to turn her over to someone worse. He’d heard of the Viscount, never anything shady or disreputable, but it bothered him that he didn’t know the man. When he arrived to his office he would have his secretary check with the usual debtors to see if Huddleston was current on his accounts. A lot could be learned about a man when you knew to whom he owed money.

  “Certain,” Ren replied, leaning back in his chair. “The viscount is from the north somewhere, and is the quiet type. I think he’d prefer his hounds and the lure of a good hunt to the social diversions of Town. If I remember correctly, he’s quite a good hand with a horse, which is something he and Elise have in common. He served in the cavalry and like you, recently came into his title and is feeling the pressure of securing his legacy. Wilson’s father bought his commission and the captain has an excellent reputation for turning a coin on the exchange. The man turned his instinct for survival on the battlefield to surviving—no, thriving—in the financial markets. I’ve taken his advice on one or two investments and you and I both made a tidy little sum as a result. Both men were near the top of their classes at Oxford and neither is destitute. If either man made an offer for Elise, I’d be hard-pressed to refuse him.” His Grace reached for his cup. “And both girls could do much worse, as we witnessed with Sinclair.”

  “You’ve done your homework already, it seems.” Michael hoped he was successful in hiding his aggravation. Ren was right, both girls could do worse. It still didn’t sit right with him. It should be him with Elise that night and every night. Him. Not Huddleston. Not Wilson.

  Unless his friend relieved him of their mutual vow he could do nothing to give Elise hope. At least until he worked the courage up to make an offer for her himself.

  “I didn’t have to, really. I know both men.”

  “Doesn’t the age difference... disturb you?”

  “Not really.” His friend scanned the room to make sure they were alone. “I’ll admit, at first it did, then I discussed it with Lia. She said much to lessen my unease and after mulling over what she said, I’ve concluded she’s right. Considering that a man isn’t really ready to marry until he’s in his prime, say thirty years, and a woman’s prime child-bearing years are in her late teens to about thirty, the age differential is to be expected. Besides no young buck is mature enough to make a good husband. Think on it, Michael, were we ready to be husbands and fathers at twenty or even twenty-five?”

  Michael shook his head.

  “There you have it. Also think about this—it will take a man, a strong man with the patience of all the saints in heaven combined, to handle Elise properly, not some young pup.”

  Michael wanted to ask if Ren would feel the same way if he were to consider taking Elise to wife, but thought better of it. Now if only Michael could forget the way her lips felt beneath his and her delicate scent of lavender in summer. And the way she smiled at him as though he were the reason behind the smile, the secret behind the sparkle in her amber eyes. He had to get out of here before he said something he might regret.

  “Well, I shall be off,” Michael popped up out of his seat, and stated with more cheer in his voice than he felt in his heart. “The office awaits and I’ve lingered too long over breakfast.”

  “But you didn’t even eat,” Ren said. “Are you well? Don’t tell me you’re coming down with that head cold as well.”

  “I assure you I am well. Just not... hungry this morning.”

  He bid his friend farewell, and during the carriage ride to his offices he realized if he didn’t say something to his friend soon, Ren would likely give his sister in marriage to another.

  Then again, even if he did want to tell his friend he wanted to court his sister, he couldn’t. He was in mourning and where at first that fact was somewhat of a shield protecting him from the annoying invitations and requests for introductions to every damn available chit in the ton, it was now a major annoyance. Now, he had to watch Elise dance and smile and laugh with every young rake who asked her.

  He attacked the mountain of correspondence on his desk with vicious efficiency. His afternoon meeting with a client didn’t go as well as he’d expected and his frustration with his clerk became so evident as to merit an apology to the man. Before he accidentally offended any other employees, he decided to take himself home along with a stack of important papers requiring concentration.

  Stepping out of his carriage at his home in Hanover Square, Michael saw Lady Randolph and Lady Caroline standing at the curb of the footpath, waiting for their carriage.

  “Lord Camden,” the older woman, Lady Randolph greeted. Michael thought her hat abominable with summer fruits arranged in a small cornucopia, resting off to the side. As he spoke, he could hardly tear his eyes from the sight. “How wonderful to see you again. We have just come from tea with your neighbor, Lady Ennisdale,” she said.

  “How... pleasant.” Michael drolled, wondering what his neighbor was gossiping about now. Likely she had him betrothed to someone, after all, the gossip sheets had him with a new woman once a week.

  Then a thought came to him. He had to make certain Elise was safe with Wilson and Huddleston, and what better way to do that than from within the theater?

  He looked down to Lady Caroline’s upturned face to see a bored young lady wishing she were somewhere—anywhere—else right then.

  “Lady Caroline, do you enjoy the theater?”

  The handsome Viscount Huddleston, and the equally dashing Captain Wilson led Elise, Beverly and Captain Wilson’s sister to the ducal box at Covent Garden Theater. Elise allowed herself to be escorted by the captain, after Beverly stated a preference for the viscount earlier in the evening while finishing their toilette.

  “The Viscount is nearly the perfect man for me Elise,” Beverly said. “He’s an avid horseman who also has an appreciation for opera and theater. You know that last immensely raises him in my esteem. It is so difficult to find a man who truly appreciates the stage, and opera in particular.”

  What no one outside the Halden and Hepplewhite families knew was that Beverly had a most beautiful mezzo-soprano singing voice. If it weren’t for her extreme shyness at performing she would surely be the ton’s songbird. But Beverly could never perform for an audience for she’d freeze and be unable to sing a note. Thus she only sang in the privacy of her room or when she thought no one was about.

  Elise spared herself the excruciating humiliation of playing an instrument or singing because she knew she didn’t do either well. Her piano instructor had once commented, “I’m afraid the
re isn’t enough money in all of England that could force one to sit in a room and listen to your ladyship play.” From that moment on, she never again laid her fingers on the ivory keys, which suited her just fine. She’d rather have been spending those long tedious hours with her horses anyway.

  Elise suggested that they sit in the ducal box as her brother and sister-in-law were otherwise entertained this night. Knowing the box had a better view of the stage than the Viscount’s rented box on the level above them, it just made sense to suggest it.

  Beverly nodded, her elegantly coiffed curls bouncing in agreement, saying, “That is a very good idea, Elise. Though only if the rest of our party doesn’t mind.” Turning to the captain’s sister, Mrs. Leonard, Beverly added, “You really can see more of the stage and hear the music better from there.”

  As the footman opened the doors to the Caversham box, the sight that greeted Elise simultaneously infuriated her and made her heart skip several beats. Seated in her brother’s large box were Michael and the beautiful Lady Caroline Randolph, with her mother, Lady Randolph, seated in front of them near the rail, her opera glasses already in hand peering down upon the crowds filing in below. Refusing to allow his presence to shake her, she caught her breath and counted to ten—quickly—before greeting them. Mrs. Pritchard would have been proud.

  “My lord.” She nodded to Michael, who had an exaggerated, if not purely comical, look of surprise on his face. She was going to kill him, Elise told herself as they entered her brother’s box. Looking over to the beautiful lady at his side, Elise greeted Lady Caroline as well.

  “Perhaps we should go to our box, Lady Elise,” Huddleston offered.

  “Not at all, Huddleston,” Michael replied. “There’s room here for all of us.” Michael motioned for a footman to bring more chairs. “We’ll move to the left, and your group can have the remainder of the box. I would have gone to my box, except it’s been let this season.” Michael looked from Huddleston to Wilson, then Elise. “I so rarely use it.”

  “And you chose to come to the theater tonight, of all nights! How fortunate for us” Elise was going to kill him in the morning if he showed his face at breakfast.

  “I thought you were staying in tonight and working, Lord Camden,” Beverly said.

  “My clerk was able to help me breeze right through that mountain of briefs.”

  She and Beverly moved forward into the box and greeted Lady Caroline and her mother, then made the introductions to their party, including Mrs. Leonard. “We didn’t think you had theater plans tonight, my lord.”

  “I wasn’t sure what I would be doing when we last spoke, but I had the good fortune to bump into Lady Caroline and her mother while on my way to an afternoon appointment.” Elise watched him turn a radiant smile to that young woman’s divine visage. “Of course when she mentioned there was a new play opening tonight, I thought it would be a delightful way to spend an evening, and Lady Caroline the perfect, most delightful guest to accompany me. His Grace has often said I could use his box so naturally I assumed it was free since they were going elsewhere tonight.”

  Elise wanted to strangle him. He knew damn well she and Beverly were coming tonight. The bounder was toying with her. But why? He’d made his decision, and broke her heart in the process. She’d not fall for whatever game this was that he attempted to play with her. Turning a smile of her own on the Captain, she said, “Have I thanked you yet for the invitation, sir? We—Lady Beverly and myself—adore the theater. Don’t we?” Elise looked to Beverly for help making the entire situation seem less awkward.

  “Yes, indeed.” Beverly and the Viscount took their seats in the front of the box, with Beverly seated next to Lady Randolph and Mrs. Leonard. Lady Randolph continued gazing at the goings-on below them with rapt attention, Elise didn’t think the older woman would be bothersome to Beverly or she would have offered to sit next to both chaperons so Beverly could enjoy the performance. This left Elise and Captain Wilson to sit behind them, which meant she sat next to Michael and Caroline. And as fate would have it, she had to take the seat to his right, stuck between the captain and Michael.

  She twined her hand in the captain’s arm, and asked, “Have you seen this play before? Or did you perchance read a review? I’ve never heard of it. I think it may be a new one.” God, she hated making small talk, and the captain was very quiet. It was taking everything she had to draw him out and converse with her. Admittedly she was nervous with Michael so close, but she knew propriety dictated that she focus her attention on her escort for the evening, not the blackguard seated to her left.

  The gas-lights dimmed and all conversation in the hall did as well. The heavy curtain lifted and the production began. Elise watched the characters on stage, giving no mind to their performances. She couldn’t follow along with the story at all because of his presence, and she realized at that moment, how she handled herself this evening was likely the most important thing she would ever do. If she did anything that could be construed as humiliating to the family or Lord Camden—especially as he was with a young lady—her brother would ship her north. Banish her to the banks of the river Dee and that crumbling pile of stones her ancestors called a hunting box.

  Of course Michael was beyond handsome tonight—as usual—and dressed in trousers, the latest male fashion. His companion was gowned in a peach silk and tulle creation, adorned with tiny seed pearls on the bodice. The outfit complemented Lady Caroline’s skin and hair beautifully. If Elise could just get beyond the fact that she still loved him, she’d have to say that they made a striking, handsome pair—his dark good looks and cosmopolitan flair alongside her classic features and delicate grace, his affable personality and her demure sweetness.

  When they reached the intermission, Michael, Captain Wilson and Lord Huddleston went to fetch refreshments. Beverly, Anne Leonard, and Lady Randolph exchanged pleasantries, forcing Elise to do the same with Caroline. It wasn’t a simple task. Elise casually brought up the merits of using gas to light the theater instead of candles, and Caroline’s only comment on the matter was that the gas smelled. Elise complimented her on her peach-and-white satin hat with its three small ostrich feathers that curled smartly around her ear. The girl gave Elise a pretty little simpering look, and said, “Mama says it frames my face nicely.”

  At that moment, she gave up trying to chat with the girl. Michael deserved someone vacuous like her as his wife. Caroline didn’t appear the type who would ever contradict him and gave the impression of a marionette waiting to have her strings pulled.

  Elise excused herself, then whispered to Beverly of her need to visit the lady’s retiring room. The footman opened the door for her and when she stepped through, ran straight into Michael’s solid frame, knocking his punch onto her chest, staining the bodice of her gown with the pink, fruity concoction.

  It took all she had not to ring a peel on him, but she bit her tongue. And not for the first time tonight. He apologized, quickly handing his now empty cups to Captain Wilson, and pulled a kerchief from his waistcoat pocket, handing it to her as she continued to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  She ignored him as she pushed her way through the crowd. If she hadn’t needed the retiring room before, she did now. Punch trickled down between her breasts. As much as she wanted to, she very well couldn’t dry herself in front of all the patrons of the theater. To do so would be uncouth, and since the gossip pages were already going to have fun reporting on this as it was, she would not give them anything else to anger her brother.

  He caught her elbow and stopped her. “I asked where you were going.”

  “To try and clean this mess up,” she hissed at him. Once started, she couldn’t stop. “You’ve effectively ruined my evening. Not just with this.” She gestured angrily at her ruined dress. “But by your unwelcome presence.” She glanced around hoping no one paid attention to her, but spied the reproving glances of several matrons. She groaned. “And just why are you here? You kne
w I was coming tonight. Haven’t you done enough to me already, that you must hound me wherever I go?”

  “I haven’t begun to do half the things I’d like to,” he whispered.

  “Stop it! You’re the one who said there could never be anything between us. So why won’t you listen to your own words and act accordingly? Quit trying to confuse us both.” She shoved her elbow into his ribs as she pushed past him to enter the retiring room. “Excuse me.”

  When she returned to the box, she discovered Michael standing by the door with her pelisse. The second act had already begun, so the two of them stood alone in the tiny anteroom of the box.

  “I thought you might want to cover the dress. Or we could leave if you wish.”

  “I cannot leave Beverly with Viscount Huddleston and Captain Wilson. Even with Captain Wilson’s sister with them, it would ruin her. So thanks to you, I’m forced to remain in this wet gown the rest of the evening.”

  “I’ve apologized already for that.”

  “Who said I accepted?” She snatched her pelisse from his hands and put it over her own shoulders, shrugging away from his attempt to assist her. “None of this would have happened if you weren’t here, you dolt. You knew I was coming. Why did you come here? Tonight of all nights?”

  “Because I had to see, to make sure, that the two men you were coming with were worthy of you.”

  “It is none of your concern, Michael,” she hissed as she nodded her head to the footman letting him know she was ready for him to open the door.

  “If you haven’t accepted my apology yet,” Michael whispered into her ear from behind, “you soon will.”

  As she entered the box, to her amazement, she saw Captain Wilson, her escort for the evening, seated in their box next to Caroline Randolph, heads together whispering and laughing as though they’d known each other for years.

  Like Elise and Michael.

  “I’ll explain later.”