Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  That walk ended up being far too short, in his eyes. As soon as they got to the other side of the park, Elizabeth was practically running in her attempt to get away. Lincoln wanted to walk her to her house, but Elizabeth outright refused, bobbing him a quick curtsy before running away across the street. Lincoln knew he should follow her and make sure she was all right. However, he had a feeling that Elizabeth wouldn’t appreciate it. He had to trust that she would get home unharmed.

  But the walk also did do him some good. Lincoln got some fresh air for the first time in days, and he took a long walk around the park. There weren’t many people out, and it was getting darker, but Lincoln liked it. He preferred the quiet, nobody chattering away in his ear like his mother. And he chose to be alone. Whenever Lincoln wanted someone in his company, it was considered an honor.

  Elizabeth hadn’t seen it as an honor. She had seen it as a scandal. It was a shame, but Lincoln could see her point. He shouldn’t be giving her any attention beyond the courtesy attention for a seamstress. It could give everyone the wrong impression, and Lincoln didn’t want Elizabeth’s reputation to be brought into question.

  Even then, she had brightened up his day. And Lincoln felt lighter on his feet as he headed back to his house, going in the back gate and up the servant’s stairs to his room. The upstairs maid almost bumped into him on the way past, but she didn’t say anything. Although there was a significant giggle from her as she headed downstairs, which confused Lincoln. That was the sound that something had happened, most likely from the dowager countess.

  He had a feeling there had been an explosion from Lady Lincoln when she realized that her son had disappeared from what she considered his duties. The servants always ended up having a fit of the giggles. Lincoln wished he had been there for that.

  After undressing and falling into bed, Lincoln found himself falling to sleep immediately. The room was warm, the fire burning brightly in the hearth, and the water bottles had heated up the bed nicely. Lincoln ended up going into a deep slumber that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. When he awoke, the fire had gone out, and the bed was cold. Lincoln burrowed deeper under the covers, not wanting to leave.

  He lifted his head above the covers when the upstairs maid came in, made up the fire and set it alight again before giving him a quick curtsy and leaving. Lincoln was out of bed in a trice, hurrying over to the fire and warming his hands with the heat. This was the one thing he hated about winter; it was cold. Why Christmas had to be in the middle of winter, Lincoln had no idea. He would much prefer it being in the middle of summer. Those days certainly had something to smile about, in his eyes.

  His valet helped him to dress and shave, a slight smile dancing about his normally passive face. Lincoln was beginning to get more and more certain that his mother had created a ruckus. For someone who believed appearances were everything, she had a tendency to go overboard when it came to losing her temper.

  In some ways, he felt a little pity for the young women who had ended up at his house the night before in the hopes that he would pick them to be his countess. They had been left alone with a woman who wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure she was in charge. Lady Lincoln had the ability to plow over everyone around her to get her own way.

  But the pity was only fleeting. Lincoln knew those women knew what they had been getting into. If they didn’t become his wife, they would be saved. He wouldn’t want to have one of them manipulated by his mother. His mother trying to control him was one thing, but his wife was something else.

  Lincoln headed out towards the stairs and bounded down. Harrison was heading across the hall from the dining room towards the kitchen. He stopped when he saw the earl and bowed.

  “Good morning, my lord.”

  “Good morning, Harrison.” Lincoln jumped off the last step. “Is the dowager countess up?”

  “Lady Lincoln is already up and awaiting your arrival in the dining room.”

  That was when Lincoln heard his mother’s voice, shouting at someone on the other side of the closed door.

  “I can hear. How did last night go with all the young ladies?”

  Harrison’s mouth twisted. He looked like he was trying to hold back a smile.

  “I cannot possibly comment, my lord. Words would not be able to describe last night without me losing my position.”

  Lincoln laughed and patted the butler on the arm.

  “Tell me about it later when the storm has died down. I won’t be offended.”

  Then he braced himself. Ann was in a foul mood. She was not about to ruin his day. After a very pleasant, but very short, walk with Elizabeth, Lincoln found himself smiling more. There was something about Elizabeth that made him feel…lighter. He didn’t know how to describe it.

  Lincoln wanted to keep hold of it.

  He headed into the dining room to find Lady Lincoln chastising one of the footmen. The poor young man looked like he wanted to sink into the floor as Ann shouted at him for serving her food incorrectly. Lincoln caught the boy’s eye and jerked his head towards the door. Clearly relieved, the footman disappeared.

  “Good morning, Mother,” Lincoln said politely as he headed towards the side table. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Good morning?” Ann shrieked. “Is that all you can say to me after what you did?”

  “After what I did?” Lincoln poured himself a cup of tea. “What did I do?”

  “Where did you go last night?”

  Chapter 7

  Taking Control

  His mother’s face was mottled red and white. She looked like she was about to have a fit. Lincoln was trying not to laugh at the sight. When Ann was angry, it scared others. With Lincoln, it was simply amusing. He had gotten used to her tantrums and now they were more tiresome than frightening.

  He sipped his tea and put it down at his place.

  “I went for a walk.”

  “A walk? You were supposed to be entertaining!”

  “I was. I was entertaining myself.” Lincoln sat as another footman brought a plate of food, laying it in front of him. “Thank you, Bailey. Has Mrs. Marks done any toast this morning?”

  “Just came in, my lord.”

  Bailey found the toast rack and placed it at Lincoln’s elbow. Lincoln reached for his knife and then for the butter, snagging a piece of toast. Ann was spluttering. She slammed her hands onto the table, making all the crockery jump.

  “Those girls were here for you!” she shouted. “You should not have left like that. I’m ashamed of you, Lincoln! You embarrassed me!”

  Lincoln sighed.

  “Mother, I have told you so many times that I do not want to marry, and I certainly don’t want to marry anyone who graced my drawing room last night.” He gave Lady Ann a pointed look. “Without my permission, I might add.”

  “But they’re eligible,” Ann protested. “And any of them would make a perfect countess. I would approve.”

  Lincoln snorted.

  “You may approve but I wouldn’t. It is my choice, Mother, not yours.”

  “Well, you need to find a wife soon. Not gallivant around with servants.”

  “Gallivant around with servants?”

  “Lady West and her daughter were on their way here last night. They saw you in the park with a woman.” Ann’s eyes narrowed. “She matched the description of that servant girl who brought your parcel over.”

  So, someone had seen them. And the rumor mill was already starting. Lincoln sat back and munched on his toast.

  “It was getting dark and Miss Barnes didn’t have a carriage. I decided to be a gentleman and offered to walk her home.”

  “Through the park?”

  “She lives on the other side and it was quicker to go through the middle of the park.” Lincoln sighed. “Listen, Mother, we’ve been through this before. I can do what I want within reason of my title. Stop forcing women onto me or they’re going to resent you. I know I do.”

  Lady Lincoln's face went even redder
. Then she stood up and threw her napkin onto the table.

  “You ungrateful child!” she shrieked.

  Then she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Lincoln barely blinked at the tantrum. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before. The dowager countess was more of a child than he could ever be.

  If only she would finally get the message and leave. Then Lincoln could have a bit of peace.

  ***

  Christmas began looming closer and closer. Elizabeth found herself getting even busier. Now that the snow had abated, people were flocking in to have their best dresses repaired, or to order something new to wear for their latest Christmas party. She was surprised she managed to slip out and do her own Christmas shopping. But what she did get Elizabeth hoped her family would enjoy.

  There was a moment or two when Elizabeth would pause and debate getting a gift for the earl. After all, he had been kind to her and had taken her most of the way home. Not many men of the nobility would have done that for her.

  But she kept deciding against it. That might spark rumors that there was something going on between her and Lincoln. As it was, a few of her clients kept asking about the earl, thinking she knew something they didn’t. Elizabeth had no idea what they were talking about and avoided the conversations as much as possible. It was embarrassing, but it had to happen.

  It didn’t help with Lincoln coming over every other day to buy something or have something else made to measure for him. He would end up talking to Elizabeth, asking her to assist him personally. In spite of her nerves and aware of people looking at them, Elizabeth found herself opening up even more. More than she would to anyone else. And Lincoln started sharing some secrets of his own. It was like they had a little pact going on between them.

  It wasn’t proper at all. And it had to stop. Elizabeth knew they were stepping into dangerous territory. She had forgotten all her rules about socializing with the upper classes and now Elizabeth was in danger of falling further than she wanted to. Falling into what, she wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t end well for her.

  All she did know for certain was that Lincoln was starting to occupy her thoughts more than he should. Elizabeth had to stop thinking about him. But she couldn’t. He just wouldn’t leave her alone, and Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to tell him to leave her be.

  She was stuck.

  It was three days before Christmas Eve when Elizabeth found herself alone in the shop. Colin and Isabel had gone out on errands and deliveries, Elizabeth staying behind to wait for any customers. But it had been a quiet day, something Elizabeth was grateful for. It meant she could sit down and concentrate on the orders already in. There was no peace in her line of work.

  She was just heading into the back room when the bell tingled. Elizabeth turned, a smile ready, but then she froze when she saw Lincoln closing the door and taking off his hat.

  “Lord Lincoln,” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you.” Lincoln headed across the shop towards her.

  “But you’ve seen me several times in the past two weeks,” Elizabeth protested. “And you shouldn’t be in here when I’m alone. It’s not proper.”

  “I know.” Lincoln shuffled from foot to foot. “But I wanted to talk to you, Miss Barnes. Please?”

  When he looked sheepish like that, his hair falling over his brow with wide innocent-looking eyes, Elizabeth could hardly turn him away. But this wasn’t something she was going to discuss in the shop. Anyone could come in.

  She glanced towards the street. Seeing that no one was there, she beckoned Lincoln into the back room. Elizabeth followed him in and shut the door behind her, leaning against the door.

  “What is it, my lord?”

  Lincoln laid his hat on the table, looking around at his surroundings.

  “Nice little room. A little chilly, but it looks like you’re kept busy.”

  “My lord, I did not let you come back here for idle chit-chat.”

  “I know.” Lincoln turned to her. “I’ve been coming here and talking to you, and it wasn’t until this morning that I realized that I hadn’t thanked you for that day when you rescued me.”

  “Rescued you?”

  “From the women vying for my unwanted attention.”

  Elizabeth had almost forgotten about that. She didn’t see herself as a heroine there. She shrugged.

  “I didn’t do anything, my lord. You did it all yourself.”

  “With your help,” Lincoln said earnestly. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wish I was comfortable talking to women as I am talking to you. I mean…”

  “I know what you meant.” Elizabeth did know. She had gotten used to understanding the earl when he was a little too blunt or stumbling over his words. There had been times when she had finished his sentences for him. “And I’m very flattered that you find me comfortable to talk to.”

  Lincoln blushed. He tapped his fingers on the table.

  “I struggle to talk to women in general. Even the maids. Unless they’re married and not looking for marriage, I get tongue-tied.” He made a face. “I don’t like it, and yet Mother expects me to marry someone who makes me uncomfortable.”

  Elizabeth had heard it before. And each time she had heard it, it left a nasty taste in her mouth. Why did the thought of Lincoln marrying someone of his own social station not sit well with her? That wasn’t right.

  “You do have a duty to do,” she murmured.

  “My brother is my heir. And he has sons as well.”

  “Even then.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “What would happen if something happened to them? You would need heirs of your own in case something happened to your brother and his family. It is a duty you need to carry out.”

  Lincoln huffed.

  “Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to do this duty. It drives me mad. I would rather be a regular person with no money and no title.”

  Chapter 8

  A Rejection

  That had Elizabeth laughing.

  “Believe me, my lord, you would not want to be someone with no money. Abject poverty is not something I want to live through again.”

  Elizabeth knew that personally. It was something she had barely gotten through herself. It wouldn’t be good for anyone of the earl’s stature to experience. He wouldn’t be able to survive, no matter what he said.

  Lincoln sighed and rubbed his hands over his face.

  “Mother’s putting the pressure on me now. With Christmas coming up, she wants me to have a white wedding, anytime between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day. She’s not fussed as long as it’s within the next two weeks.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to find a suitable wife in time.”

  Elizabeth tried to stay calm, but her heartbeat was quickening. Being in a room alone with the earl was the worst thing she could have done. She was very aware of his presence.

  “Maybe.” Lincoln’s eyes lifted, and Elizabeth found herself rooted to the spot at the intense look. “Perhaps I don’t have to look very far.”

  Elizabeth felt her breath lodge in her chest.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Then Lincoln was walking towards her. Elizabeth knew she should move away, put distance between them, but she couldn’t move. Not even when Lincoln stood before her, his expression softening as he reached up. Elizabeth jumped as his warm, gloved fingers brushed across her cheek.

  “What would you say if I asked you to marry me, Elizabeth?” he whispered.

  Elizabeth wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly. She started.

  “You what?” she squeaked. “Marry me?”

  “Yes.” Lincoln looked very earnest about it. “I’m comfortable around you. I can talk to you, and you make me want to smile whenever I’m around you. You’re a bright, talented woman. And you’re beautiful.” His fingers brushed over her lips. “You would be a perfect countess for me.”

  Elizabeth was reeling. He was really expecting her to agree to a
proposal? She could feel her chest tightening as she began to panic. Elizabeth ducked under Lincoln’s arm and darted across the room, putting the work table between them. She could feel herself shaking.

  “I’m not a noblewoman, my lord,” she said firmly. Even her voice was shaking. “I’m not even of the same station as you. Have you forgotten that?”

  “I haven’t forgotten.” Lincoln’s eyes darkened. “And I don’t care.”

  “But I do,” Elizabeth protested. “I care. Society will care as well. They will make us a laughing stock, especially me. A seamstress does not marry an earl. They don’t.”

  Lincoln snorted.

  “You do realize that I’m not the typical earl.”

  “I have noticed.” More than once. Elizabeth felt like she couldn’t breathe. “But I cannot, my lord. I will not ruin myself or put your status in Society into question. I won’t.”

  It really hurt to say all that. But it had to be done. Elizabeth knew it could never happen. An earl never married that low below him. Lincoln would realize that in time. He was just confused. That was it. He was confused.

  Lincoln’s eyes changed. Now he was looking pained as he realized that he wasn’t getting what he wanted. He could see her distress. He stepped towards her.

  “Elizabeth.”

  “It’s Miss Barnes,” Elizabeth snapped. She turned away, clutching onto the table. “Please, my lord, just go. We must not ever speak of this again.”

  If he didn’t leave her now, Elizabeth was going to break down in front of him. She didn’t want any comfort, not from Lincoln.

  That was a lie. But Elizabeth couldn’t allow herself to take comfort from an earl. That was not proper. She wouldn’t scandalize either of them like that.

  She didn’t crumple to the floor until she heard the door open and close. Then Elizabeth buried her face in her hands and began to sob.