by Jenni James
“You do not need to be quite so forward, my lord,” she said as he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. “You need only ask for the jam, and I would have handed over the plate.”
“Do I not? I find the greatest way to get a lady’s attention is to do something so outrageous, she immediately stops talking. I thought you would never stop your prattling with the woman. I adore Georgianna Perceval as much as the next man, but when I have eagerly awaited a moment alone with you all evening, you must understand my keenness at taking whatever opportunities present themselves. Or, creating my own when they do not become readily available.”
She chuckled. “You are a monster.”
“Indeed, I am. A selfish one too, for I do not wish to share you with anyone.”
“Shameful!”
They skirted past several people, winding around the bend, until Compton pulled them off onto a much more secluded path that made its way around the far corner of the park. It was fairly lit, but with no marked opening, only a tight gap between two hedges.
“How did you know this was here?” she asked.
“I have my ways.” He looked down at her, smugly grinning, his hat tilted to a jaunty angle. They wandered a few more meters down the cobbled path before coming to a quaint stone bench. Then he startled her by asking, “May I speak earnestly to you, Lacey?”
Without warning, her heart rate began to triple in pace. Whatever could he be about? “Yes, I suppose so,” she said as composedly as possible.
Compton sat down upon the bench and gently placed her right next to him, the flounces of her pale pink gown fanning out charmingly around her. “I have some news to impart,” he said.
Unexpectedly, she decided to explain, at least partially, how she had grown fond of him. “I do as well,” she replied after taking a breath to calm her nerves. Apparently, it would seem that quiet paths in the gardens beneath starry nights is where deep secrets are revealed.
He looked intrigued. “And what have you to share? Nothing bad, I hope.”
She gave a shaken smile, flummoxed about how to answer such a thing. “I do not know if good or ill will come of parting with what I have to tell you. However, I believe—or rather hope—that good things will come to pass.”
Those dark eyes of his examined her features as she desperately attempted to gain the pluck she needed to speak.
“Will you leave me in suspense?” he asked with a hint of a smile.
“I find myself unexpectedly nervous to speak now. Embarrassed, even.”
Compton took one of her small hands in his. “Do not be, sweetling.”
Sweetling? Lacey wondered at how she could be so brazen in this moment. Yet, with his declarations earlier, it would be horrid if she did not express something of what she felt. “I have grown to admire you, Lord—Alistair. When I spoke with my servants again, long after we returned from seeing Grosvenor Square, they said once more how you were kind to Cook and her girls as you played with the puppies.”
He shifted on the bench a bit. “I do not understand. It was nothing.”
“Chull, my housekeeper, said you sent each of the little girls a posy this morning, though I did not hear of it until after you had gone.” Her heart swelled at the memory of the joy and pride on the little girls’ faces when they showed her. “You completely won them over and made their day so very special. Thank you for being kind to them.”
“I honestly would have forgotten I gave them flowers at all, had you not mentioned it.”
“You are too modest. Even if you did not think of it, I am certain they thought of little else today, and will undoubtedly talk about that small gesture for years to come.”
“Surely not.”
She chuckled and clasped his other hand. “Do not underestimate the love a female has for flowers from a lord.”
“Do you speak from experience?” He grinned and brought his head in very close to hers.
Her breath froze as her gaze flitted over his handsome features. “Oh, most definitely.”
“Was that what you wished to tell me?” he whispered. “To share that little tykes will talk about me sending them flowers for the rest of their lives? Was this what truly had you so nervous?”
“No.” She pulled away from him and grinned. “Cease mocking me. I wish you to know that I am enormously honored to call you friend. You are unbelievably thoughtful and gentle, and I am so very lucky to have you close to me.” She took a deep breath. “Although I was cross and said unforgivable things to you, I am so grateful for every experience you have had, for without them, I would not see this cherished friend before me. Each and every past experience, or difficulty, or scandalous thing has only grown to produce the kindness that you are. Thank you for allowing me to see the goodness around me—that bit of life I had denied myself because of my own prejudices.”
She squeezed his fingers. “Alistair, yet again you have proven that there is worth in everything.”
He leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips, and in that unexpected moment, Lacey’s heart burst.
“Forgive me.” He pulled back and caught her gaze. “However, I do not feel the least bit remorseful.”
Lacey returned his mischievous smile. “Nor I.”
She watched, fascinated, as Compton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I cannot begin to hope like this. You will surely destroy me if I do. Please do not trifle with me, Lady Lamb. If you do not feel a thing for me, let it be revealed now, for I fear I am slipping.”
Was he truly in love with her? Was this how a gentleman acted when he was anxious? Lacey leaned forward and kissed him again, relishing his soft lips upon hers, her boldness causing her to blush. “I have no intention of destroying anyone, least of all you, Alistair.”
“How?” His earnest looks nearly unsettled her. “How are you such an angel to forgive me so?”
“And I am to wonder how you are such a man to show affection for me despite my prudence and outspoken passions and stiff nature. I am by far the least accomplished woman of your acquaintance, and yet you look over it all to appreciate me.”
“What is this gibberish?” He looked astonished as he pulled away. “Not accomplished? Lady Lamb, I will never hear of you speak of such a thing again. I feel like a simpleton in your presence. You are so much more exceptional than I will ever be.”
Lacey stared at the perplexing man a full minute before asking, “Do you honestly see me in such a light?”
“Yes!” he blurted.
She could not help but laugh. “What a wretched pair we make!”
He gasped at her admission, though it took a half beat more for her to ascertain what had been admitted out loud.
Compton held up a hand. “No, do not speak another word. I wish to remember this night precisely as it is right at this moment.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I fear that you may break this spell. It must be an enchantment you are under to be uttering such nonsense, and very shortly, you shall come to your senses and run like mad away from me and all that I am.”
She wanted to curl herself up in his embrace, to kiss him again a thousand times, to embrace him and never let go, yet propriety held her fast to her seat. However, one wayward hand reached up and touched that very dear cheek. “You are a scoundrel, but I am very much afraid to say you will forever be my scoundrel soon.”
Compton turned his jaw into her hand and kissed the palm. It was a chaste, simple kiss—but full of more love, devotion, and promise that she had ever acknowledged before.
Could it all be possible? Could she finally, truly be in love?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:
Quietly, Alistair stood and pulled Lacey up. He enfolded her into his arms, gently embracing her for a few moments before drawing her hand into the crook of his elbow once more. He simply could not help staring at her. Those bewitching eyes, the glowing hair, the warm smile. All of this person before him was beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
&nb
sp; He had almost spoken to her of his meeting with Lord Stanthorpe earlier. However, he was grateful now that he had not. What if he did not get the position after all? No, it was better to wait, yet he gathered that by going back into government, he would not have the time with her he had been enjoying of late. His heart saddened a little at the thought. “Lacey?”
“Yes?”
“I must beg your pardon, but I find I will not be able to attend the Dodderings’ afternoon gala Wednesday next. In fact, I am afraid I will not be seeing much of you at all during the day. I am now needed elsewhere.”
He could tell she was curious, but she was good enough not to pry. “Should I go to the gala alone, then?” Her face fell. “No. Perhaps I should cry off as well. Furthermore, I have vowed only to attend the events where I know I will not make a mockery of myself.”
“You will never be seen in such a light, I promise you.”
“Perhaps not by you, but as for a good many others, I most certainly shall.” She took a few more unhurried steps and then added, “By and by, it does not wholly matter, for I doubt I will attend another ball again.”
“Unless I am there to sweep you into a scandalous waltz?”
She laughed. “You are incorrigible. I meant, as long it is a musicale or night at the theater, I believe I shall do myself proudly.” She bit her lip and gave him a saucy grin.
“I cannot wait for you to watch your first theater performance. I assure you, there is nothing I would be more eager to see than your entertainment of the stage.”
“Are you implying that you would go to the theater simply to watch me watch the stage?”
“Of course.”
Shaking her head, she impishly replied, “You, my dear, are a simpleton.”
“Do you intend to call me names and mock my intelligence the whole time we are acquainted with each other?”
“Most probably, yes. I cannot help myself—it slips out so easily when you are near.”
He wrapped his arms around her and caught her up. “Ha! I knew you were a minx the moment I set eyes upon you.”
“The moment you set eyes upon me, you were asking me to dance, so I must not have been that much of a minx in your eyes. Alas, it was an invitation I turned down for reasons you understand much better now.”
They heard giggling nearby. Compton released her at once, and safely tucked her hand into his elbow again. “No, you are wrong. The very first time I saw you was last year, when you were racing up the steps of your brother’s home with your poor maid several meters away attempting to keep up.”
“You never said.”
“’Tis true. I was with Lord Hamson and inquired immediately who you were, as I had not seen such an attractive gel anywhere else during the Season.”
“Let me guess. He was quick to inform you I was Lady Ice and a bluestocking, no doubt, who deserved no attentions from any man.”
“On the contrary. He expressed how ardently he admired your beauty and fortune, and how several men would be more than willing to snatch you up—if you would ever give any of them an opportunity to do so.”
“Oh, bosh! He said nothing of the sort, so do not attempt to bewilder me. I am not a green girl, you know. Now out with the true, and not another outrageous bouncer!”
Compton laughed, and grew even fonder of the lady than before. “Very well, he said he believed you were Lord Melbourne’s half-sister, and knew nothing else besides that.”
“Now, that is an account I can trust.” She sighed. “Though why you insist on filling my head with this nonsense that many men find me attractive and the like is beyond me.”
“You are correct, my fair lady. I should not be so remiss, for if you truly understood your worth, you would be running from me.”
Then, before Lacey could argue with him further, the fireworks began to explode into the sky. Their loud bangs and sparkling falling stars captivated Lacey in the most enjoyable ways. He held her hand and took her round the bend toward where everyone was gathering in the park to watch the display. Everyone but him. Her genuine delightful reactions were too incomparable, and he simply could not tear his eyes from watching her artless joy.
“It is the most magical thing I have ever seen,” she exclaimed. “Indeed, this must be magic! For what else would cause such exquisiteness and glitter in the sky as this?”
Compton could kick himself for considering her cold and unfeeling, even for a moment! Her complete enthusiasm and elation exuded a warmth unlike any of the ton. Thankfully, she had not been tainted by their sharp opinions and false attitudes. No other woman would sit here with such rapt, giddy attention as she expressed now—their faces would be painted with jaded ennui. Nay, she was utterly, wholly present, and perfect in every way.
CHAPER TWENTY-SEVEN:
Lacey danced about in her room later that night, tossing her clothes high into the air and whirling about as she attempted to catch them. Never had she felt so elated with the world. Never had she spent so many days in a row without thinking of life’s hardships and her resolve to sort them all.
Locking her door, she skipped to the chaise lounge and threw herself dramatically upon it, her happy face looking to the sky beyond the window and daring to presume she could see the stars aligning for her cheerful future. Finally, she felt there was a future for her, something to embrace and look forward to.
And then for no particular reason at all, she began to weep. So full of emotion was she that her tears came quickly and sharply, unlike anything before. Indeed, there was no warning, as if all this time, she had been holding her soul together—reminding that fragile being day by day that no one would ever remember her or see her again. Not truly. Not enough to wish to be with her and marry her. Lacey had given that delusion up long ago. She had resigned herself to become an old maid, and never envisioned that a gentleman could want her once he knew her.
Lacey’s days were spent in busy agitation, filling her heart with so much worry for others that she had not believed anyone could possibly wish to worry for her. Until now. Oh, she was a foolish girl indeed! A happy, horridly foolish girl.
Because she did dream now. She did believe. And even if it all came to naught, oh, how she had lived in this last little while! How she soared! And to think—Lord Compton kissed her!
That man did more for her fragile awareness than she could ever have done for herself. One does not believe one is worth loving if all she knows is that she is not. Lacey curled up in her nightdress, clutching a small round pillow, her shoulders shaking as she released those tears.
Tears of worthlessness, shame, loneliness, self-pity, grief, and now her new optimistic tears of exuberant joy, hope, faith in tomorrow, and tears of love. She sobbed the hardest at those. God must be a caring being to be sure to send such a man as Lord Compton to her.
His past was no longer insufferable, and she had learned the hardest lesson of all—judgement. She had cruelly judged the man she would one day love with all her heart, for she did. Yet first, she had to free herself of all the disdain she had cloaked about her like a shield. It must flee now because she was alive once more.
Finally, fortunately, there was no room for anything in her heart but warmth, happiness, and love.
How she had waited for the time when she could be free. Tomorrow was a new dawn, and with that dawn, a new Lady Lamb, a lady who believed in fate, goodness, and the reality that she was wanted, cared for. Loved.
Lacey stayed that night curled up in the chaise lounge, with the little white pillow tucked into her arms until she fell asleep. Later, when Chull knocked and then unlocked the door for the maid to light the fire, she walked over to the sleeping princess. Lady Lamb was smiling like an angel. The tears still stained her cheeks, but they must have been tears of joy, for no one smiled like that unless they were exceedingly blessed. Chull did not dare disturb her, and so gently placed a knitted blanket upon the sweetheart and tiptoed with the maid out of the room, shutting the door behind them both.
The next morning, the weather was dismal and rain splattered, but Lacey was not gloomy in the least. Her soul felt as though it had been kissed by sunshine, so bright and tall and magnificent was she. There was no wrong she could not right, no demon she could not overcome, and no worry she could not flit away. Lady Lacey Lamb was an incredible force to be reckoned with, and she had much restitution to make.
After luncheon, ignoring the chattering of Pantersby, flying by him with a jovial kiss upon his wary cheek, Lady Lamb climbed into her closed carriage with a very flustered Mrs. Crabtree to brave the wilds of London’s spring storms.
Her first stop was at White’s, where the shocked Mrs. Crabtree felt it much better for her nerves to stay in the coach than to walk into the gentlemen’s club and tarnish her reputation, as Lacey was wont to do. Lady Lamb had one desire, and she had no intention of vacating the premises until it was fulfilled.
Several heads turned as she walked firmly into the darkened, finely upholstered lounge area. Her umbrella was soaking and hanging from her arm, as it was too early for a man to be at the door to take it from her. “Where do I go to remove bets?” she asked the four or five gentlemen who were in the club that morning.
Without saying a word, one of them pointed to the counter behind her, where a finely dressed man about twice her age stood with his mouth agape.
“Are all of you afraid of women, then?” she asked with a stubborn tilt to her lips. “Hello, good sir.” She turned fully and addressed the man. “I am Lady Lamb, and I wish to pay the fine and remove the wager my brother, Lord Melbourne, placed on my behalf. It involves Lord Compton and myself.”
“My lady, I know who you are.”
“Good. Then kindly go about doing as I have asked.”
“Yes, my lady, I would instantly. However, I am not sure I can.”
She blinked. “Why ever not?”
“Because you are a lady, my lady.”
Lacey could feel her pulse quicken in annoyance. She spoke slowly and forcefully. “Yes. I know I am a woman. The bet pertains to me. I asked my brother to place it, and therefore, it is mine. I would like to remove it now. Lord Compton has won. For that reason, please make haste. I have other errands to attend to.”