by Jenni James
“Yes.” Chull fluttered her hands. “But tell me of Compton. Surely he was forgiving of your lack of knowledge of the steps?”
Lacey paused and thought back to him, then replied more seriously. “Honestly, if it were not for him, I would have returned home immediately I came.”
“No! What happened?” asked Annie.
“I walked into the ballroom, and as soon as those nearest learned my name, it spread and the chin-wagging began, and I could not stay another moment. But then Lord Compton caught me up and talked me through it all, and before I knew what he was about, I was joining him on the floor for the King’s Quadrille.”
Chull gasped. “Oh, dear! That one is exceptionally difficult.”
The brush faltered in Lacey’s hand. “As both Lord Compton and I soon acknowledged. I simply could not keep up with the steps.”
“How mortifying.” Annie’s hands paused.
“Yes, the room was in stitches, all the fine ladies laughing at my expense.”
“Did you stride off the floor? I do not think I could have stayed on,” the abigail asked.
“Nay, I would have, but I was afraid the gabblemongers would become worse for my doing so.”
“No doubt you are right. Carry on,” Chull pressed her. “Did you just muddle through as best you could?”
Lacey began to brush at her hair again, her heart growing slightly warmer than it had been moments before. “Nay, Lord Compton surprised me and whirled me away from our set and into the middle of the ballroom, where we began to waltz.”
“Waltz?” Chull clutched her dressing gown to her neck and whispered, “Certainly he did not dare do such a thing. What did the others say? What did they do?”
“Blather on, of course.” She smiled at the memory. “I was at first terrified, scandalized, shocked—I had no notion of what to do except follow him. However, he was persistent and spoke to me of what he was doing and why—and then I comprehended what he was truly achieving.” She bit her lip and stared at her reflection in the looking glass, even then contemplating Lord Compton’s magnanimous gesture. “His sole purpose was to rescue me.”
Through the reflection, Lacey saw the horror on the older woman’s face slowly slip into awe and then gratitude. “You are correct, my dear. That is exactly what he did.”
“All at once, I felt such an overabundance of joy come upon me, I could not help myself—I laughed. Spinning around in the arms of the handsome rogue, I giggled like a girl who had just won the May Queen, finally freeing myself of the worries and thoughts of anyone else.”
The housekeeper nodded. “Although it was most brazen of you, I am grateful to hear you enjoyed yourself.”
Lacey turned in her seat, causing Annie to step back. “That is not all! After supper, I spoke with Lord Stanthorpe, the Speaker of the House, for nearly a half an hour about Parliament, making tonight by far the most enjoyable evening I have ever had.”
“It sounds just so.” The older woman sat up on the lounge.
“If it were not for Lord Compton’s insistence, I never would have gone.”
“And have you thanked the young lord?” The old nurse was forever reminding her of her manners.
Lacey turned back toward the mirror and frowned. “No, I admit it completely slipped my mind. Now whatever should I do? How does one go about thanking a gentleman?”
“Well …” Chull grinned. “One could perhaps agree to spend the day with him when he asks next.”
Lacey flushed. “I supposed I could do something as simple as that.”
“Do you wish to do more?” Annie asked quietly.
She shook her head. “No, definitely not. Still, I am never happy until I have repaid my debts.” Lacey’s gaze met Chull’s through the looking glass.
Chull let out a soft groan as she climbed out of the chaise lounge. “I am certain you will think of just the thing, my dear. Given time, you will know how to make it all right.”
As the last of the pins came out of her hair, Lacey turned in her seat once more. “Chull, how will …” She trailed off, not sure what she was trying to say.
“Yes?”
Lacey gave her head a little shake. “’Twas nothing. Merely thinking out loud, I guess.”
Chull paused, her hand upon the doorknob, and gave a warm grin. “My dearest, you will never fully apprehend what your mind is pondering until you finally permit your heart to speak.”
Lacey blinked, not entirely certain she was ready to understand that thought.
Thankfully, Chull did not press the issue. “Goodnight, my dear. I am very pleased you enjoyed yourself.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE:
The next morning, a full bouquet of irises made their way into a certain home on Green Street, and the whole house was in a tizzy over it. Everyone knew that with such a bouquet of irises, there must be a message of some importance attached. Indeed, there was a letter tied neatly to the wrapped bouquet, but Lady Lamb was still asleep in her bed. Pantersby handed the flowers over to Chull, who found a vase and arranged them sweetly upon the table in the green drawing room, all the while sharing with him exactly what their sweet Lady Lamb had revealed the night before.
“Are you certain she laughed when Lord Compton swirled her out for the waltz?”
“Aye. She even admitted that he rescued her.”
Pantersby was having the devil of a time hiding his grin, so chuffed was he that Lady Lamb was finally beginning to heal. “Just like a knight upon a white charger coming to her aid.”
Chull and Pantersby walked into the kitchen and then over to the small room with a table to the side. “Do you perchance believe this could lead to something?” Chull asked as Cook brought in a tray of tea.
Cook herself smiled at the thought. “Oh, I very much hope so! He is so handsome.”
Pantersby gave a slight frown at the woman, who curtsied and then scurried away. “He seems a good man. I pray he is, for her sake.”
Chull handed over a cup and saucer. “She would not have fallen in love with him else.”
He nearly choked on his tea. “Do you think she has by now lost her heart?”
She took a sip and sighed. “It would be wonderful if she did. Oh, Pantersby! Do not look at me like that. You know how much she has despised this world and lived in such mad mistrust. And whatever for? Because she does not feel she is worthy of them.”
“Well, that is a very foolish thought, for there is no greater lady in all of society.”
“I know—I know this well. Now, if only we can make her see herself as so.”
Pantersby huffed as he took another sip. “I only wish I knew what that letter contained. I vow I will call the man out if he intends to harm her.”
She giggled. “You cannot call him out, as well you know, so stop your drivel. And I do not think he means to harm her.” Chull leaned forward and got a glimpse of Cook wiping down the doorway nearest them with a cloth, intently listening in. “Do you know at what cost he led her away from the dreadful quadrille out into the waltz? Any pride he had left would have been in shreds. Why, everyone turned their attention to him and immediately forgave her. So much so that she was then able to spend half an hour talking to Lord Stanthorpe about Parliament.”
“You do not say.” Pantersby’s mouth dropped open. “I am in astonishment.”
“Aye, so was I. But it would seem she has been finally accepted by the ton and enjoyed herself immensely.”
When the servants’ bell rang, they both jumped and then looked at each other.
“She is awake!” Chull set her cup down first, straightened her dress, and nearly beat Annie to Lady Lamb’s door.
It took another twenty minutes or so, but finally the lady was walking down the stairs and into the green drawing room to see what all the fuss was about.
Lacey was pleasantly surprised at the number of irises in the vase. “Did he buy out all of London just for me?” Her hand shook as she took the card and walked over to the high-backed chair to open
it. It was not dreadfully long, but certainly long enough to appease the strictest of critiques of gentlemen’s letters. She was also pleased to note that it was written in an elegant hand.
Lady Lamb,
I thank you for the privilege of standing up with me for the first set, and for the sweetness with which you accepted my reprehensible ways in insisting we dance the waltz. You were a very gracious and charming partner whose beauty outshone every other lady there. It is with my deepest respect that I send you this bouquet, and I hope you accept the irises.
These flowers are a particular favorite of mine. Beautiful, elegant, and they are accompanied with an air of hopeful things to come.
I did not have the chance to relay a bit of what Lord Stanthorpe divulged to me after you and he had parted. Allow me to do so now. He was exceptionally taken with you and found you both bright and clever. It was my honor to hear him expound upon your lively mind with a keen interest, and that lord even went as far as revealing that if a woman were to be in politics, he would certainly believe it could be you.
It is my greatest pleasure to have been acquainted with you, and I hope we may continue to be great friends, confiding and growing together. I feel you have much to teach me, and I would gladly be your pupil and learn all that I can at your feet. If you are willing, I will be by at half past one to call upon you. Until then,
Your humble servant, etc. etc.
Alistair Compton
Half past one? Lacey glanced up at the clock and then breathed a sigh of relief. She knew she had been a slug-a-bed and slept the morning through, but it was merely noon, so all was not as lost as it seemed. There was nothing more than a simple greeting in his letter. Certainly not as much as the excitement that was created to guarantee she opened the thing. She smiled and then looked up at the hopeful faces of Chull and Pantersby. “Would you like to read it?” she asked as she held the missive out for them.
Neither moved. “Come now, you cannot fool me.” She set the letter down upon the table nearest. “There. I will leave it and go to the breakfast room, and you two can read it to your hearts’ content.”
Chull moved first. “Does he reveal anything at all?” she asked as she snatched it up.
“No. As you will soon see.” Lacey made her way into the breakfast room, and Cook was quick to send out a maid with a few small platters of meat, fruit, and bread.
A couple of seconds later, in skipped in little Mary and Emma, Cook’s girls. Each of them brought silverware and plates, with embroidered napkins too. “Good day, La’ly Lamb!” Mary beamed, her dark braids bopping as she curtsied.
“La’ly Lamb, we brought your plates so’s you can eat.” Emma dipped into a curtsy as well. Her pinafore was held out with one hand, charmingly imitating a grand lady.
“Thank you.” Lacey grinned as she collected their offerings. She was certain there were not two more endearing children anywhere.
“We gots to go, La’ly Lamb,” Emma said. “We’re Mama’s helpers ta-day.”
She chuckled. “Very well. Run along then, imps.”
“Your flowers are beautiful, my lady,” Cook said as she appeared moments later with the tea.
“Yes, though why you are all in tremblings over the things, I cannot imagine.” Lacey’s heart stopped for a moment over the lie.
“Aye, but it is the first time you have ever received flowers from a gentleman, my lady.”
“You are meaning besides a simple posy?”
“Yes.” Cook’s eyes sparkled with excitement.
Lacey could not understand her own household. Why were they so eager? “Have you seen Lord Compton?” she asked, surprised at the reaction his flowers brought.
“Oh, yes. When he came to see the puppies.”
Of course. Lacey had almost forgotten the little tykes. “And did he speak with you?”
“Yes, he was very polite and kind to me and the girls.”
Suddenly, Lacey could not breathe. Her foolish heart could not fathom what she was hearing. After a few moments, once the beating slowed a bit, she asked, “Lord Compton has spoken with the girls as well?”
“Aye, my lady. He played with them on the floor. The girls love him so.”
For no apparent reason, tears flooded her eyes, and she quickly dashed them away. Could it be possible? Could that horrendously wonderful beast be kind enough to take time out of his day to see the servants too? Nay, not only see them, but take a moment to talk with them and play with them? Was it possible he was not as arrogant as the rest of his breed?
One could forgive a man a great deal if he was willing to prove his kind heart. She would wager a hundred pounds there was no other lord in London who would do half as much. Her own brother was not one to tolerate servants, and he knew her desires and beliefs more than Lord Compton ever had. And yet, her brother still created moments of disdain and indifference toward those she would call family.
Apart from placing the bet for her to protect the family name, and the odd country parties he and his wife partook of that Lacey sometimes attended, she and her brother really did move in completely different circles. They could and did speak of politics, but Melbourne and his wife were more set in their ways and not as appreciative of her interest in government as Lord Stanthorpe had been. It was because of their slight condescension that Lacey had purchased this home to begin with. It had become very clear that they did not wish her to stay with them during the Parliament season yet another year now that she could afford a home of her own.
Lacey stared out the window and blindly marveled at the servants’ delight over Lord Compton’s attention. She was a bluestocking, and not at all the fashionable sort. Her dancing was appalling, her manners unguarded and uncouth, and she was constantly judging those he would call friends. She could not fathom the man being the least bit interested in her.
The hardest lesson for her to grasp last evening was that society, while unbearably gossipy, was not as wholly bad as she imagined them to be. Indeed, Lacey enjoyed herself much more than she could have ever hoped.
“My lady!” Pantersby rushed in, all flustered fervor. In fact, she had never seen him so ruffled before. “This letter is signed simply Alistair Compton.”
“Yes?”
“He signed his Christian name. No title—merely Alistair Compton. My dear, the man is utterly in love with you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
For the first time, Lacey found herself in a completely new state of mind. These nerves that accompanied every single thought were much more vexing than any she had known before. Indeed, they were much worse than when she attended the ball last night, more than when her anger at meeting Lord Compton belied every bit of dignity she had as she restrained herself from quartering the sop. Yet, this—this was an unnatural, surreal experience. Every single thing suddenly mattered. Her hair, her petticoat, her necklace, her gown—even her shoes were brought into question at least eight times as she tried them on over and over again.
If she had thought her hands shook before, it was nothing to the ridiculousness she was forced to bear at this moment. Furthermore, even her teacup could not be picked up without sloshing the hot liquid everywhere. She was a disgraceful wreck!
Her stomach fluttered and churned—honestly, if she was not so eager to see Lord Compton once more, she would have convinced herself she had fallen very ill. Preposterous! Ludicrous! Incompressible anxiety! By the time one o’clock rolled around, she was positive she would never be herself again.
And then he came!
Her foolish heart beat frantically in response, and she knew not where to look until he walked up and kissed the top of each hand and then grinned that devastatingly handsome grin at her. “Hello there, Lady Lamb. How is your day?”
And then for no particular reason, she wanted to wipe that complacent grin off his face and kiss those dastardly lips, which could be why she answered him a mite more frustrated than she had intended. “All was well until your flowers and letter arrived.”
“Do you not like irises?” he asked, confusion marring his features.
Lacey’s gaze met his. She felt her nerves growing, yet could not be unkind. “Yes. They are beautiful. Forgive me, Lord Compton, I—”
“Please call me Alistair. Are we not friends enough for that?”
All other thoughts fled her mind and her mouth opened up, but she could not speak. For truly, her heart had never beat so rapidly before.
“I see I have shocked you. Excuse me.” He glanced away, his eyes finding the bouquet. “I fear I may have been a bit too earnest this morning. If you would like me to leave, I will do so at once.”
She must say something to him. “L—Lord Compton, please, do not. We have come off to a bad start. Let us begin anew.” She held her hand out for him to shake. “Hello, my lord.”
He gave a rueful grin and took her hand, shaking it shortly and then kissing the back yet again.
Lacey flushed and then took a deep breath. She was never good at receiving men, and even more so now that she had been so out of practice. However, if she could but find her courage, perhaps she would not injure him more. “I would like us to be friends.”
Compton’s gaze searched hers. “Indeed?”
Her smile wavered as her heart beat so loudly, she was certain he must hear it too. “Yes, please.”
“And as friends, am I impertinent to ask you to call me Alistair?”
Could it really mean that he was in love with her? Was Pantersby correct? “No. Though, to be fair, you must call me Lacey.”
Alistair smiled and let out a sigh. “I would be most pleased to, Lacey.”
Every centimeter of her was filled to the brim with a tingly sensation she had never experienced before. Now what was to be done? It was all of a sudden awkward, and too quiet by half.
Compton must have seen her distress. “Would you like to chat awhile, or may I take you elsewhere? Perhaps to explore Hyde Park or Grosvenor Square, if you wish?”