Love Regency Style

by Samantha Holt

“I shall be cautious, I promise. Now will you please try to relax?”

  “Perhaps I should have worn a cap,” Patience said, running her eyes over her beautiful sister to ensure herself everything was perfect. Sisters they might be, but there was nothing to suggest their connection in either appearance or personality. Where Patience was dark with green eyes and lacking in inches, Lucy was blonde with big, soft brown eyes beneath gently arched brows. She appeared delicate and almost fragile, her elegant body dressed in pale lemon satin with matching slippers. She had no doubt that Lucy would be a sensation before the night’s end.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because it would have made me look more matronly.”

  This time Lucy tsked. “Don’t be a goose. You are far too young and pretty for a cap, even if you do act matronly sometimes.”

  Patience managed to control her nerves before they reached the last step, and when she stepped onto the floor, she was composed. Around them guests milled and chatted in small groups. Some women wore pearls in their hair, others feathers or jewels. Dresses ranged from light colors for the younger ladies to darker hues for the older. A few were casting discreet glances at the Allender sisters, trying to work out who they were.

  “Dear Lord, imagine him being the first person we see.”

  Patience followed her sister’s eyes and felt her heart leap inside her chest as she saw who had attracted Lucy’s attention.

  “Mathew!” Lucy hurried forward, unaware that Patience had not followed. In fact, Patience’s slippers appeared to have suddenly glued themselves firmly to the floor.

  She watched as Mathew took Lucy’s hands, his smile genuine as he bent to kiss her cheek.

  No, no, no! Patience pressed a fist to her chest. She’d thought she was over this, that the years had rid her of the horrid emotion that he produced inside her whenever he was near. Yet here she stood, pulse fluttering, head spinning, as she drank in the sight of the man who had shredded her heart into tiny pieces seven long years ago.

  Breathe, Patience.

  Dragging her eyes from the reunion, she concentrated on the lady wearing pink to her left. It wasn’t a soft color, but hard and bright on the eyes and offered the perfect jolt to her stunned senses. Never again let any man make a fool of you, especially not him. Remembering the promise she had made that night long ago while she lay crying in her bed, she drew back her shoulders and once again looked at her sister and Lord Belmont. Finding a cool smile, Patience then made her way forward, determined that when she greeted him he would only see her composure.

  “Here she is, Mathew.”

  Drawing alongside Lucy, Patience sank into a curtsey before rising to take the hand Lord Belmont held out to her.

  “Hello, Patience.”

  Patience noted the small fan of lines at the corners of his eyes that had not been there when last they’d met. The color of mint leaves, his irises were ringed with black and fringed with thick lashes. His eyes had always intrigued her; in his youth they had mirrored his every thought. His height topped hers by almost a head, he had hair the color of roasted chestnuts and a face that had always made her pause. With high, slashing cheekbones, a long, aristocratic nose and a strong, blunt chin, it was unmistakably the face of a nobleman and with age it had become more so. She also noted a hardness that had not been in him before, as if the soft edges had been honed off, and what was left was even more compelling. Damn the man, how had his looks improved with time when she had had hope they had waned?

  He was smiling as he looked down at her, his mouth lifting at the corners, and while it was nothing like the smile the younger Lord Belmont had often used, there was no doubt that he was genuinely pleased to see her.

  “Good evening, Lord Belmont.”

  The smile dimmed and his eyes narrowed at her cool tone. She watched dark brows lower as his gaze skimmed her face.

  “You have changed a great deal since last we met. Let me compliment you on how well you look, Patience.”

  His voice was deep and steady, and had once made her shiver, but no longer. Patience Joanne Allender shivered for no man. “Thank you,” seemed the safest reply.

  He was wearing a black jacket, white shirt and black trousers with black shoes. His waistcoat was black with a pale grey stripe, and she instantly condemned herself for taking note of every detail, right down to the small emerald and gold pin he wore through his necktie.

  “It has been many years since we last met. Tell me how your family fares.”

  “Our father passed away five years ago, and Mother the year following, Mathew,” Lucy said when Patience remained silent.

  She felt his eyes on her face briefly and did not inhale until they moved on to Lucy.

  “I had not realized. Please allow me to offer my condolences for your loss. Mother did not tell me, or I would have attended the funerals.”

  His surprise was genuine, so Patience said, “They both passed peacefully, Lord Belmont, and while I did send word to your mother, we understood completely why you did not attend.”

  When neither Mathew nor his family had come to either of her parents’ funerals, Patience and her siblings had known that the Belmont family were still dealing with their own loss, and even though she had longed for this man’s support, she had not expected it.

  “Thank you for your understating, and let me assure you we would of course have attended had we known. Mother stopped corresponding with everyone after Anthony’s death, and it has taken many years for her to come to terms with the loss of her son.”

  “Of course we understand,” Lucy said in a gentle voice.

  “You are very gracious to say so.”

  His smile had once reached his eyes, but no longer. Like her, this man had suffered, and that kind of suffering changed a person.

  “And who is with you here in London? Are you residing with your cousin?”

  Patience felt her sister’s reaction to the mention of their cousin, so she tucked Lucy’s hand inside hers and squeezed it gently. Their cousin was not someone they spoke of, and if they were forced to, it was usually through clenched teeth.

  “No, we are lodging at the Allender town house in Pimlico,” Patience said. “Our brother Charles is also here in London, as he was desirous to see some of the sights after spending most of his life in Sussex.”

  “Of course, Charles,” he said, and she realized he’d forgotten their mother had had a child late in life. “How old is he now?”

  “Eleven, my lord.”

  They had once known everything about each other, but now this man was almost a stranger to her, and Patience felt sad that time and circumstance had separated them. Yet perhaps that was for the best, as she had once been infatuated with him to the point of silliness, and now they could simply see each other and she would no longer blush a fiery red or stutter like a simpleton.

  “It is wonderful to see you again, Mathew…or should I call you my lord?” Lucy said.

  “Mathew will do, if you do not mind me calling you Lucy and Patience.”

  “Not at all,” Lucy said. “Now please excuse us, as my friend is signaling.”

  Relieved that Lucy had presented them with the perfect reason to leave, Patience bobbed a curtsey and added her agreement to her sister’s words, then, with Lucy’s hand still in hers, she walked away.

  “You barely spoke two words to your old friend,” Lucy whispered when they had moved away. “Were you not pleased to see Mathew again?”

  “Of course I was, but as you know I am nervous, and my voice seems to have deserted me,” Patience lied.

  “I’m sure that condition will not last long,” Lucy muttered, which earned her a pinch from Patience.

  It was done; she had met Mathew and behaved as she ought to without making a fool of herself, which once she would have done. From this moment forth, she would simply smile or nod her head when she saw him and remain composed. She could do that, would do that, then with luck, when the season drew to a close Lucy would have fallen in
love with someone and she could once again run back to the country and hide.

  Mathew kept his eyes on the raven-haired beauty as she walked away, the swish of her dark blue skirts and solitary ebony ringlet holding his gaze. Patience Allender had changed beyond recognition from the round-cheeked, sweet-tempered young girl he had once known, and the change was in more than just her appearance. He had a feeling that her entire temperament had undergone a transformation, and how he knew this within a few minutes of meeting her was because of the chill in those sapphire blue eyes. Once they’d looked at him with happiness and friendship; however, not now.

  Lucy had been pleased to see him, Patience had not. In fact, he would go so far as to say that she seemed angry with him, even though she had tried to hide it behind a cool, polite façade.

  Their mothers had been friends, and because of that they had spent a week together, twice a year. He had ridden and run over their lands with Patience, and he had told her things he told no one else, secrets and dreams that he had never shared again. She had done the same, and now they were strangers. He remembered the smiling, funny girl she’d once been, the one with the magical voice who had read stories and poetry to him endlessly.

  It disturbed him, even hurt, that she now was almost a stranger to him, but then what had he expected? He had forgotten her brother’s existence, had not attended the funerals of her parents, and if his memory served him correctly, his behavior had not been as it should have when she entered society.

  He continued to watch her as she and Lucy stopped beside a group of people, and he noted the sudden interest from the men nearby and felt an irrational flash of anger.

  “I have an insipid drink of unknown origin for you, Belmont.”

  Pulling his eyes from Patience, he turned to greet his brother-in-law, Lord Simon Kelkirk. “Good,” he said, taking the drink, then swallowed several mouthfuls.

  “To drink that in such haste, I can only conclude you have a problem.”

  Mathew sipped the next mouthful as he thought about how to answer that question. Simon was married to Claire, Mathew’s sister, and had become a close friend. He was tall and dark-haired, locks heavily laced with silver that gave him a distinguished appearance. He was a man who loved the people close to him openly and without hesitation and also a man who could hold his counsel should he be required to do so.

  “I can see something is bothering you, Mathew. However, as I know that, like Claire, you need to think about your words before saying them, I shall stand here silently at your side and wait.”

  Mathew snorted.

  “But not for long. Patience is not my strong suit, as you know.”

  Simon had accompanied Mathew this evening as Claire was carrying their first child and had chosen to stay at home.

  “Claire made me come tonight so I can catch up on all the gossip, as she likes to keep abreast of that kind of thing.”

  “I thought you were being silent,” Mathew said, turning his body so he could look at Patience. It was no hardship, as she was a beauty. He could see her profile now, the gentle curve of her breasts and one slender, pale arm encased in an ivory glove that reached her elbow, hand hanging still at her side.

  As a child, her hands had constantly moved, either waving about as she described something, or resting on her hips to let him know she was impatient. He’d often called her, much to her outrage, ‘Impatient Allender’, which had always earned him a scolding.

  “I gave you five seconds. Surely that is enough?”

  “I met an old friend a few minutes ago, and we talked briefly, but I sense she is angry with me.”

  “Does she have reason to be angry?”

  Mathew felt Simon’s eyes on him before he looked away. “Yes, I believe so.”

  “And you concluded that after a few minutes of conversation?”

  “I’m astute.”

  Simon made a noise to dispute that, but said, “I’m told I have excellent shoulders for unburdening on, so continue.”

  “My sister’s opinion is biased, Kelkirk.”

  “Be careful how you speak of the light of my life.”

  Mathew snorted again, his eyes still on Patience. She hadn’t moved; her body was still as she watched and listened, but did not add to the conversation.

  “I’m not sure if Claire ever mentioned the Allender family to you.”

  “She did. You spent a few weeks each year together when she was growing up. The eldest told wonderful stories, and had the voice of an angel. Claire and the youngest always got into trouble.”

  Mathew smiled. “An accurate summation.”

  “Are they here?”

  “Yes. Do you see the woman over there in blue, standing with that simpleton Dundrill?”

  “Can you believe he has on a puce-colored evening jacket?”

  “Shocking,” Mathew drawled.

  “Is the elegant, dark one Patience and the pretty blonde Lucy Allender?”

  “Yes. When I spoke to them, Lucy was happy to see me, and while Patience said all the right words, I had the feeling she would have cast me to purgatory if she could.”

  “Why?”

  Mathew exhaled. “My sins are vast, I’m afraid, but the most obvious is that I forgot the existence of her brother, and was not aware both of her parents had passed away.”

  “Both justifiable reasons, However, I’m sure you did not do so lightly.”

  “No, their deaths followed Anthony’s, and I was not in my right mind.”

  “Which was understandable.”

  “But there is more, I’m afraid. There is also the matter of her debut in society. I was not the friend she needed. In fact, I was cold towards her whenever she sought my attention, and I fear I hurt her greatly.”

  “Because you had only recently lost your brother?”

  Mathew rubbed his chest. Thinking of Anthony’s death always made it hurt. “Yes, and because she produced memories of the happy times I had with him…and I did not want to remember them seven years ago.”

  “Surely if she is the friend you say she was, then she would have understood your behavior?” Simon said.

  “Perhaps, but she left London after only a few weeks, and to my shame I did not even notice. I asked Mother a few times about the Allender family, but as she had no correspondence to refer to, we simply stopped thinking about them. This is the first time I have seen her since her debut.”

  “Introduce me to her, Mathew, as I wish to meet this woman. Then I shall dance with the youngest, who I believe is in her first season, and you can dance with the eldest. I, who am an excellent judge of character, will see if she is indeed angry with you, and we shall confer afterwards.”

  “All right,” Mathew said, leading the way. He wanted to speak with Patience alone and see if the girl he had once known was still in there somewhere. He also needed to apologize, but feared in that he might be too late.

  She turned as if sensing his approach and he watched the hand at her side clench into a fist.

  “Mathew,” Lucy said with a smile as he arrived at her side. Patience nodded with a cool expression.

  “Dundrill.” Simon bowed. “That jacket is really quite splendid.”

  Mathew choked, but disguised it with a cough. Patience turned her eyes on him, but her expression did not change.

  “Miss Allender, Miss Lucy Allender, allow me to introduce Lord Kelkirk to you,” Mathew said. “Claire’s husband.”

  “I have heard so much about you from my wife. It is a pleasure to finally meet you both.”

  “And how is Claire? It has been so long since I last saw her,” Patience said after she and Lucy had curtseyed. Mathew noted that the reception Simon received was a great deal warmer than the one he’d had.

  “She is well, and we are expecting our first child in a few months.”

  Lucy clapped her hands together. “How exciting!”

  “I could offer you the name of my tailor, Lord Kelkirk, should you wish it.”

  Mathew wat
ched as Simon gave Lucy and Patience the smile he reserved for people he liked before addressing Mr. Dundrill.

  He had never taken to the man, who was short, round, and pompous. Mathew had heard that Dundrill had a mother who had instilled in him a belief that he was a touch above everyone else. Therefore, he had an inflated ego.

  “I could never hope to carry off such a jacket, Dundrill, but thank you,” Simon said before returning his attention to the younger Allender sister once more. “Will you honor me with this dance, Miss Allender?”

  Lucy stammered out her agreement before placing her hand on Simon’s arm, telling Mathew that she was excited about the prospect. Perhaps standing up with a man who she knew was married to an acquaintance was a relief for one of her first dances in society.

  “And I—”

  “Will you dance with me, Patience?” Mathew said before Dundrill could finish his sentence.

  “I am honored by your invitation, my lord, but I am not standing up this season. I am here only in the capacity of chaperone for my sister.”

  “As we are old friends, it matters not what capacity you are here under.” Mathew took the fist at her side in one hand and placed the other hand against her spine. “Come along.” He then propelled her forward. “Excuse us, Dundrill.”

  “I have no wish to dance, Lord Belmont, so please release me.”

  He stopped, turning her to face him. “Are you unable to dance for some reason?”

  She shook her head with that polite smile still in place. “No, of course I can dance. I just have no wish to.”

  “Surely you can find it in your heart to dance just once with an old friend?”

  Around them people chatted and laughed, and others brushed by them, but he kept his eyes on hers, looking into their cool blue depths, searching for the girl he had once known. Mathew wasn’t sure why he wanted to see a glimpse of her, but he did.

  “Of course I can. But just this once, my lord,” she added, not looking at all happy about the prospect. “I have no wish to do so again.”

  “Excellent.” Mathew took her hand, then led her to the dance floor. He placed her in the line beside Lucy, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement, and stood opposite her.