Stranded With The Marquess (Regency Stories Book 1)

Home > Other > Stranded With The Marquess (Regency Stories Book 1) > Page 14
Stranded With The Marquess (Regency Stories Book 1) Page 14

by Catherine Mayfair


  He had lied to Amelia about his current relationship with Elizabeth in that he was not engaged to be married, at least not yet. Why he had said such a thing, he was not sure, but it had been said and there was no erasing the words once they were said. It had worked out for the best, however, for Amelia had her Harold, the man for whom she seemed to care deeply. Who was he to step between two people who were in love? Yet, it still did not ease his mind, nor his desire for the woman.

  “My son,” his mother said as she entered the parlor, “you have been quiet as of late. What troubles you?”

  He sighed as she came to sit in the chair opposite him. “I have always been able to speak the truth to you without judgment, have I not?”

  Concern etched her kind face. “But of course. What is it?”

  “Elizabeth will be here soon,” he said with a sigh, “and it is expected that I ask for her hand in marriage.”

  His mother nodded. “Yes, but do you have second thoughts?”

  “I must admit, my heart does not love her as a man should a woman he intends to marry.”

  His mother seemed to study him for a moment before speaking. “Is there another woman how has caught your eye?”

  He never could grasp how easily his mother understood him. It mattered not what the issue was, she knew his heart and mind almost better than he did himself. Was this due to the bond that a mother and son shared? Did other sons have the benefit of such insight? “Yes,” he replied, though it was with great reluctance. His mother had always been an avid proponent of a marriage between him and Elizabeth.

  “And who is this woman?”

  “Miss Amelia Browning.”

  “The woman from the ship?” her mother asked with a gasp. All he could offer her was a weak smile and a nod. “And does she not care for you in the same way?”

  “No,” he replied simply as he played with the locket in his hand. “She is already spoken for, or rather will be if the man has not already asked for her hand in marriage. I know it is not right to love a woman who is already intended, but I find that I cannot stop thinking about her.”

  His mother patted his hand. “You are in a situation in which you feel trapped, are you not?”

  He nodded. “I am.”

  She sighed. “I understand, for I was in the same situation once.”

  His eyes widened. “With father?”

  “Yes.” She smoothed her skirts, though they did not need smoothing. “I did not love him when we wed, and he did not love me, for it was a marriage of convenience. The first year was quite awkward and we rarely spoke to one another. Yet, something beautiful grew from that, and soon we did fall in love. It was not what I had envisioned as a young girl waiting to come of age, but I am glad that it came about as it did, for if I had followed my heart, I do not know if I would have been as happy as I am today.”

  “Was there another man you loved, then?”

  She laughed. “Only in a dream,” she replied. “I had my head in books about romance and love, but I had not met anyone by the time our parents arranged our marriage. However, in its way, I did live that dream.”

  He noticed the sadness in her eyes. “I miss Father, as well,” he said as he took her hand in his.

  She pulled a kerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eye. “Well,” she said firmly, “enough of that. What I wished to convey with you was that, even if you do not love Elizabeth, the chances of that love growing are great.”

  “I understand that, but what of Amelia and my feelings toward her? How can I simply forget her?”

  She took his hand once again. “To tell her how you feel, would it be of help to her? Could your words bring about joy, or would they harm the woman instead?”

  He pondered her advice for a moment and then replied, “It would only cause her embarrassment, I suppose.” Yet, in his mind, he could not help but be reminded of the kiss they shared. If she loved Harold as much as she said, why had she done such a thing with a man she did not know?

  “Women can let their emotions get the best of them,” his mother said with a chuckle. “You must realize that when you thought you were on that beach, you provided for her and protected her.”

  This thought almost made him laugh, for he had not been completely truthful with his mother any more than he had with his uncle about what had played out during the time he spent with Amelia. Would any man admit that a woman had done better than he in so many ways?

  “What was meant in gratitude,” she continued, “may have been mistaken for other, stronger feelings.” Again, he was amazed at how she seemed to know his thoughts. “I believe that, once you and Elizabeth begin your life together, you will soon forget about this woman. It is the best for both you.”

  He sighed. “You are right, Mother,” he said. “Thank you.” He stood and looked up at the clock. “Well, it is time for me to meet with Elizabeth. I suppose it is time I make a decision.”

  “And I am sure you will make the right one,” his mother said with a smile.

  He returned her smile. Somehow he doubted so, even though he did not know what decision he would make.

  ***

  The home of Miss Elizabeth Stockton was a lavish property on a large parcel of land that allowed her father to raise many fine horses. Elizabeth’s grandfather was a Duke, a man who lavished even his younger children with anything they wished. Apparently, the man who was to be his heir did not mind, for he was already happily married and lived in a house even grander than the one in which Matthew sat at the moment.

  He had visited the parlor on so many occasions, that he no longer noticed the fine furniture or the intricately wallpapered walls. Now he stood waiting for Elizabeth’s arrival, and his mind was on whether or not he should ask her to marry him. Yet, Amelia was probably celebrating her new engagement at that very moment, so in all reality, Elizabeth was the best match for him after all.

  The door opened and Elizabeth walked in, her yellow dress rustling as she walked across the floor. “Oh, Matthew!” she cried as she took his hands in hers. “I am so happy you returned safely. Please, sit.”

  Matthew took the seat she offered and she sat beside from him on the flowered settee.

  “Tell me everything,” she said as she leaned forward in anticipation.

  He swallowed hard. What could he tell her? The truth was as out of the question as it had been when he explained to his uncle what had transpired during his time on that beach. So, in very much the same words he had used with Paul, he explained about the shipwreck and their subsequent time waiting for George to return.

  All the time he spoke, Elizabeth appeared intrigued, but even as her face reacted as would be expected, her hands wrung a kerchief she held in her hand and her eyes had a tightness to them that was unlike her.

  “Is something wrong, Elizabeth?” he asked.

  She gave him a shocked look and then sighed. “Oh, I have never been able to get anything past you, have I?”

  He laughed. “Never. Now, what is wrong?”

  She stood and walked over to the window that overlooked the stables. “I know why you have come, Matthew, and I must admit something to you.”

  Matthew walked to stand beside her. “And what is that?”

  When she turned to look at him, her eyes were rimmed with tears. “I know you came to ask for my hand, and I love you for that.” She placed a hand on his arm. “But it is not the love a woman has for a man she is to marry. My love for you is that of a brother. You see…” she turned away from him to dab at her eyes with the kerchief, “Lord Bromwell has asked for my hand.”

  “The Duke of Trandly?” he asked in shock. “I did not realize you were acquainted with the man.”

  “Please, understand that I did not mean it to happen this way,” she said in an urgent tone. “I met him at the Pitford’s party last month, and he has come to call several times. I know I should have told you as soon as we started seeing one another, but we learned that we have much in common, and what began as a fri
endship has turned into something more.”

  Matthew was unsure how he should feel about what he had just learned. She had been correct that they shared a close friendship, but before he had met Amelia, he had hoped it would be a good foundation for a strong marriage. Now, he wondered at the sense of relief he felt in her rejection, even though he had not yet asked her to marry him.

  “Matthew,” she said as she took his hand in hers, “I know that you will find the right woman for you. I just hope that you do not hate me.”

  He smiled at her. “Of course I do not hate you. I am very happy for you and Bromwell. He is a good man, and I know he will treat you well.”

  “Oh, thank you!” she said with a heavy sigh as she embraced him. “You do not realize what a relief your words are to me. I have been fretting for days.”

  “Well, fret no more. I only wish you the best.”

  As if she was taken over by a renewed burst of energy, she said, “Then I must let Charles know as soon as possible.”

  Matthew laughed. “Then I will take my leave. Again, I am very happy for you.”

  “Thank you, Matthew. And I am glad that you are the first to learn of my engagement.”

  When Matthew walked out the front door, the sun peaked out from the clouds, sending its warming rays. Somehow, everything appeared brighter and clearer. Granted, he could not have Amelia, but with time, someone else would come into his life, though he doubted she would hold the same place in his heart as Amelia did at this moment. Regardless, Matthew walked up to his horse, light of step, and was soon on his way back home to see where life would take him.

  ***

  The sky was overcast as Matthew stepped out the front door of his home the following day, but he took no notice of the weather. One disaster had been avoided the day before, though he knew that, eventually, another would arrive soon enough to take its place.

  When he had told his mother what had transpired at Elizabeth’s home, the woman had been none too happy.

  “This does not change the fact that her heart belongs to another,” she had said of Amelia, though he had not suggested he would pursue her now that he and Elizabeth were no longer to be considered for marriage.

  “Yes, Mother, I am quite aware of that. I would like to enjoy the fact that I will now be free to find someone else.”

  She had clicked her tongue at him, but her eyes held little admonishment. “Yes, well, just so you know,” she had replied before leaving the room.

  The door opened behind him, bringing him back to the present, and George stepped out to stand with him on the stoop. “Your uncle doesn’t want to leave now to Eastbourne till Monday,” the man said in his quiet voice. He paused and seemed to battle whether or not to speak but then decided he would do so. “I’m sorry about Miss Elizabeth, sir.”

  Matthew gave the older man a smile. He truly had been a good friend to him despite his sometimes strange behavior. “Thank you, George, for your kind words. But to be perfectly honest, I was not all that interested in marrying her.”

  “That’s ‘cause you love Miss Browning, ain’t it?” George said, his forwardness making Matthew chuckle. “I know it’s none of my business, but you could see she loved you, too.”

  This surprised Matthew. “You believe so?” he asked. “I thought I had seen something kindle between us, but surely I was mistaken?”

  “Oh, not at all, sir,” George said as he clutched his hat in his hands. “In fact, when you two dined…” he snapped his mouth shut and looked down at the ground.

  “No, please, George,” Matthew said. He had to know the truth, for if he had not misinterpreted what he thought he saw during that dinner, it proved what he had sensed during their time on the beach. “What was it about us dining together?”

  “First off, I do tend to like to eavesdrop from time to time. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s a habit I picked up from my mum’s side of the family. I’ve learned lots of important things that have helped me, too. Why, just last week, I overheard old Jim Collins…”

  “Yes, George, I understand,” Matthew said with an impatience he tried to hide. “But what about Miss Browning and my dinner?”

  “Oh, well, that. I heard what she was saying and, didn’t you think it was funny how she talked about that Harold man she’s supposed to marry?”

  “In what way?” Matthew asked.

  “Well, she was in competition with ya,” he said with a light chuckle.

  Matthew stared at the man. Maybe he was mad after all. “What do you mean ‘in competition’?” he asked. “She was merely boasting about the man. There is nothing suspicious in that. Many people do such things when they have a great affection for someone.” Had he not done so when speaking of Elizabeth?

  George gave a loud harrumph. “She don’t love that man,” he said firmly. “I bet, just like you, she was forced to accept his proposal.” Then he stopped and looked around before lowering his voice. “Plus, I seen the way you look at her, and trust me, sir, these eyes,” he pointed to his crossed eyes with two of his fingers on one hand, “they see everything.”

  Matthew held back a laugh at his wonder as to what ‘those eyes’ could actually see. However, he mulled over the old man’s words. “If what you say is true, what am I to do? She expected the man to ask for her hand, and he may have done so already. I cannot simply go to her and somehow position myself into her life, especially if her marriage to this Harold was prearranged and is set to happen.”

  George shrugged. “Maybe he hasn’t asked her yet. It could be she’s sitting there waiting for you to go and rescue her. Women like that sort of thing, you know. My Mary sure did.” He let out a heavy sigh. Matthew knew the man missed the woman who had been his wife for more than twenty years before she died from a fever over seven years earlier.

  “George,” he said as he clapped the man on the back, “you may be right.” He could not shake the feeling he was a rogue to hope it so. “At the very least, I can tell her how I feel. If she does not return my feelings, then I will know for certain and be free to find another.”

  The old man smiled. “Trust me, sir, she’ll return it. But she can’t if you stand here talking to me all day. Go and tell her what’s on your mind or you’ll regret never knowin’.”

  “I will,” Matthew said with a wide grin. “And thank you. Once again I believe you have saved my life.”

  And with that, Matthew made his way to the stables. One way or another, he would speak his mind to Miss Amelia Browning, and by the end of the day, he would know the fate of his love for her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sun peeked out from behind the clouds, promising a happy day as Amelia walked alone in the garden. Harold had gone the day before, his step lighter than she had ever seen him use, and she was pleased that he could be with someone he loved. Now, if she, too, could be with the man she truly cared for, then her life would be complete. However, it was not meant to be, so she would simply have to make the best of her situation, just as she had told Matthew to do. At the age of twenty, it was time for her to put her dreams to the side and concentrate on being the woman she was to be. That woman would be strong and educated, one who did not feel sorry for how her life had turned out. She would continue the march to reaching her goals, many she had set since returning after almost losing her life.

  One goal she had set for herself was that she would learn new languages. How many she was unsure, but she would begin with French, since she had a basic understanding of the language, and then perhaps branch out from there. During her time in school, she had not been committed to her lessons, but now she would be a better student, one who took her studies seriously.

  Another goal included expanding her reading to learning about France so that one day she could travel there once again, this time with a better understanding of the culture and how to conduct herself while in that country. What she had learned on her recent travels to Calais was that she stuck out like a sore thumb as a tourist, making her an easy m
ark for pickpockets and thieves. She found it humorous—much easier to do now that she was safe at home—that she had been more a bumbling fool than anything else during her recent expedition, and she vowed to make better use of her time there the next time she went. Granted, she had sworn never to leave England again, but everyone was entitled to change their mind, were they not?

  Perhaps one day she would journey back to that beach by the sea and watch the waves wash in, remembering a time when a strong voice said her name and her in his arms.

  “Amelia?”

  The sound startled her and she jumped as she turned to look behind her, her hand covering her mouth to stifle a scream. “Matthew?” she gasped. “I mean, Lord Albright. What are you doing here?” Her heart was pounding so hard, she wondered if he could hear it.

  “I came to see you,” he said as he stepped in closer to her. “Your mother told me I could come find you, that it would be all right if I came to speak to you. That is, if you will allow me to.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said breathlessly. If he only knew how badly she wanted him to stay by her side for always and forever. However, she could not allow her hopes to rise only to be pushed off some unseen cliff. She was not sure she could handle the loss again, for her actions on that beach had been most unbecoming of a woman such as herself.

  “I have something very important to tell you,” he said. He looked as handsome as she had ever seen him, his dark blue coat complementing his dark hair. The white shirt underneath was fresh and bright, much like his smile.

  She nodded, not allowing herself to speak, for she knew what she had to say would not come out correctly if she did.

  He cleared his throat as if struggling as much as she. “I do fear my words may cause more harm than good,” he said. “But what I must speak to you about concerns our time on the island, or rather, the beach.”

  It was as she had thought. He had come to admonish her for how she had conducted herself during their time together. She did not blame him; she had been more than wretched in her actions. She had been no better than a hussy.

 

‹ Prev