by Fanny Finch
His father had told him the meanings of each one. It was a long story that the previous Marquess had insisted Myles learn by heart. Myles was proud of the crest and hoped to have a son to tell the story to someday. Marriage, however, did not seem to be a part of his imminent future. For the first time, the thought struck Myles as troublesome instead of relieving.
He shook his head, clearing away those thoughts. He was exhausted from his journey and wasn’t thinking properly. Right now, his only concern should be his promise to Sir Edward and how best to fulfil it.
The problem still remained. How would he approach Miss Bronson this time? What would he say to make her understand the importance of what he had to say? He had not given it a second thought when he made his promise to Sir Edward. Lavinia was simply a name, the daughter of a dear friend, a counselor, a mentor. It seemed he had made his task more difficult when he approached her at her father’s funeral.
At the time, the Marquess of Kent had felt like it was his duty to give his vow to Sir Edward. After all he had learned from the older man, it was the least he could do to pay his respects. He was not a man who backed out on his word.
The Marquess of Kent reached behind him and pulled a gold cord hanging beside the window. Downstairs in the kitchen and pantry, a bell would ring, signaling a servant he wanted one of them.
He stood, looking down at the letter, wondering what Miss Bronson’s reaction would be when she received it. After a few moments, the housekeeper entered.
“Yes, my lord?”
He held the letter out to her, speaking briskly, “Make sure you have this letter mailed first thing in the morning, please.”
The housekeeper took the letter, curtsied and backed out of the room. “Yes, my lord. I will see to it without fail.”
When she left, Myles looked absently out the window to the descending night.
He was no stranger to battle, but he could not help the feeling that he was entering a war he did not know how to fight.
Chapter 5
Lavinia did not want to sit down. In fact, she did not even want to be at Windingham Manor, attending this ball. Not after her mother’s silly enthusiasm over it.
Lavinia felt uncomfortable in the lavish gown her mother had ordered made specifically for this ball. The only reason Lady Bronson had gone to such lengths was because she had discovered Lavinia was corresponding with the Marquess of Kent.
She had reacted with such excitement, Lavinia did not have the heart to tell her that she had misunderstood the Marquess’ intentions. Lavinia shook her head, remembering the joy in Lady Bronson’s voice as she ran shrieking down the hall. She was determined to buy the most beautiful, expensive dress that could be found on the market.
Lavinia didn’t share her mother’s delusion however. The Marquess’ letters were formal and polite. He never stepped out of bounds with his speech or suggested there was anything behind his intentions other than to warn her to be cautious.
He had yet to explain his interest in her fate at all. Since he had not yet asked anything about meeting her mother or the possibility of a courtship between the two of them, it could not possibly be that. What was his motivation?
She had conversed with several friends, ladies of the ton who had not been in mourning and had been participating in events all season. She had asked them for anything they might be able to tell her about the Marquess of Kent.
Lavinia was surprised to realize that not many knew about him. They knew of him but they did not know him personally. He had, for four years at the very least, attended parties and balls infrequently and showed no real interest in dancing with the ladies of the ton.
He was also disinterested in the political side of the ton, as mentioned to Lavinia very bluntly by the daughter of a Duke. Lavinia assumed she had been spurned by the mysterious Marquess of Kent, leaving her bitter whenever she spoke of him.
“He is… he is just so… confident in himself. He probably thinks he is a perfect man. But there has not been a perfect man to walk the earth since Jesus. His arrogance is preposterous.”
Lavinia had dismissed the woman’s unflattering words. There is a difference between confidence and arrogance, she had reasoned, and she was not going to let the words of a spurned woman shape her opinion. She would discover the truth on her own.
That was the plan for the Windingham ball. She would ask the Marquess to repeat his warning, to tell her everything he wanted to tell her. She found a chair and sat down to rest her feet for a moment. She would be doing plenty of dancing. Her card was nearly full already. She had promised the first waltz to the Marquess of Kent, a waltz that she knew well.
She wondered what kind of dancer he would be. She would have placed bets he was an excellent dancer, if not a bit stiff. She settled on making a bet with herself, just to see if she was right.
Lavinia’s eyes swept around the room as she searched for Lord Ashdown. He had been the first to sign her card, taking the first dance. She had danced with Lord Ashdown before and found him to be a capable dancer. He was fluid and moved in time to the music perfectly. He barely touched her as they danced, which was a relief to her.
She did not have to look for him long. He was walking towards her in a straight line, a smile on his face.
“Miss Bronson,” he greeted her politely, offering her his arm. “Shall we?”
She walked with him to the dance floor and waited for their cue to begin dancing.
They moved around each other, their arms stiff while their legs moved. Lavinia spun when she was supposed to, catching the eye of Anna a few couples down from her. She smiled at her friend, but strangely enough, Anna didn’t smile back.
Lavinia lifted her hand. Lord Ashdown touched the tips of her fingers, raising her hand in the air as the two of them passed each other.
“You are looking quite lovely this evening, Miss Bronson,” Lord Ashdown said in a charming voice.
“Why, thank you, my lord, you look dashing yourself,” she replied in a kind voice.
Lord Ashdown smiled at her. The two of them spun in place and passed by each other again, stepping in time to the tune the small orchestra was playing.
“I heard your mother has taken ill. I was very sorry to hear that,” Lavinia said as she passed him. His face took on a somber look and he nodded. He waited until they were passing once more before he responded.
“She has been ill, yes. It has reached a dangerous point and we are praying for her recovery.”
“I will say a prayer myself, my lord. I do hope she recovers soon,” she replied, as propriety instructed her to do so.
“She is a remarkable, strong woman.” The two of them came together and as they stepped to the music, he spoke in a low tone. “I have always admired her. I am sure she will recover her health. It seems I have inherited much of my personality from her. That is what I have been told.”
“And what traits might you have inherited from her?” Lavinia asked curiously.
Lord Ashdown put a thoughtful look on his face.. She tilted her head to the side, curious to hear what he had to say. “Oh I suppose I have a good sense of humor. I enjoy making people laugh when I can. I believe the world is much too serious and that laughter helps people feel better.”
“Do you now? That is very interesting.” Lavinia smiled at him. “Does your mother like to make people laugh?”
Lord Ashdown grinned wide. “I think she just likes to laugh.”
Lavinia smiled again, covering her mouth with her hand and lowering her head slightly. She found Lord Ashdown to be charming but there was something odd about him that made her a bit uneasy. Something in his eyes, she decided, which alerted her that his pleasant demeanor wasn’t entirely genuine. It was almost as though he was trying too hard.
She listened to everything he had to say and responded politely. He was not a difficult man to dance or converse with. Nevertheless, Lavinia found herself unable to rid herself of that unusual feeling.
Could it be the quick
warning of the Marquess had influenced her way of thinking? It irritated her to think so and she pushed the thought out of her mind, enjoying the rest of the dance. She could see Lord Ashdown was being as charming as he could be. There was a possibility he would be the next suitor to pursue her.
Her mother would certainly approve of a baron courting her daughter. In all probability, she would encourage Lavinia to enter a courtship with him without delay. By the time the dance had ended, however, Lavinia was certain that Lord Ashdown was not the man she would have chosen.
She examined his handsome face, his wavy strawberry blond hair, his well-groomed facial hair. His eyes reflected the candlelight around them, little golden flames dancing in the grey. There was no doubt he was an attractive man on the outside. But Lavinia knew she could never love a man just for his looks.
“I would like to dance with you again, Miss Bronson,” Lord Ashdown said in a deep, low voice when the dance came to an end. He bowed to her as she curtsied to him and he continued, “But I know that would not be proper. Allow me to thank you for such a lovely time. I hope to see you in between dances so that we can socialize a bit more.”
She smiled at him. “That would be lovely, my lord.”
“I will see you around the room then.”
She nodded and watched him leave the dance floor. He was heading toward the refreshments table. The dance must have worn him out. There were a lot of steps but the thought that he was tired after just one dance amused Lavinia.
She began to walk back to the chair she had abandoned to dance the first tune with Lord Ashdown. She stopped in place and her eyes darted to the left when a hand fell on her arm and stopped her from moving.
It was Anna, looking seriously at her.
“Anna! Are you enjoying the dance? You seemed quite lovely dancing that first song.”
Anna nodded vigorously. “Yes, for sure I am enjoying it, but…” She looked around them, as if worried she might be overheard. She had lowered her voice considerably when she spoke again. “Lavi, I am afraid I must warn you about the man you were last dancing with.”
Lavinia raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Warn me? About Lord Ashdown? Whatever do you mean?”
Anna frowned and shook her head. “I simply have heard certain things about him. He is… he can be very charming, indeed. But he is said to be the kind of man with a proclivity for breaking the hearts of the women he woos. I do hope one of them does not turn out to be you.”
First the Marquess of Kent, and now Anna? What was it with people trying to warn her of things lately?
“Anna, you worry too much,” Lavinia said. “Was it not you who said a little while ago that I am too blunt in social settings and will not give anyone a chance?”
Anna’s slender face softened as she lookedat her friend with an indecipherable expression. “I did say that, Lavi. But there are some gentlemen who I must caution you about. I do not trust that Lord Ashdown has good intentions.”
Lavinia could not help but feel that two warnings from two different people was not a coincidence. Especially when it was unlikely the two of them had conversed on the topic between themselves. “Thank you for the warning Anna,” she said sincerely. “I shall bear it in mind.”
Anna’s eyes moved over her shoulder and her face lit up with interest. Lavinia turned and looked behind her. She pressed her lips together.
It was the Marquess of Kent. He had just been introduced and was walking in, looking extremely handsome in his finery. She struggled to keep her face neutral, embarrassed that her sudden attraction to the mysterious man might show. She also did not want her frustration with her still-unanswered questions to be seen by anyone.
She drew in a deep breath.
Before she knew it, she was standing in front of him, looking up into those dark blue eyes, wishing her heart was not pounding the way it was. Finally, she would get the answers she was seeking. He had given her so little to go on with his first warning. Not knowing what he wanted to say had been on her mind for so long, she was nervous to finally be so close to the answer.
She tried to remember her frustration with the rumors that were going around the ton. It had all but disappeared. She was standing in front of him with eyes all over the room directed at them. She knew behind each pair of eyes was someone wondering just what the two of them had going on.
“You are looking lovely this evening, Miss Bronson, Miss Astor.” The Marquess bowed to them.
“Thank you, my lord,” the women responded in sync. They curtsied to him.
“I do hope you have enjoyed the ball so far.” Lavinia noticed he was looking directly at her. She tried to gauge the look on his face but was unable to comprehend what he was thinking. The look on his face was nearly blank. He reminded Lavinia of some of the men in her father’s regiment, looking stern, confident, nearly rigid and without emotion.
“I have,” Lavinia replied. “You have only just arrived?”
The Marquess nodded. “I was delayed.”
“It is good to have you here now,” Anna put in, giving him a small smile.
He responded with one of his own before turning his attention back to Lavinia.
“I believe we have the next dance, Miss Bronson?”
She nodded, feeling apprehension flood through her. “Yes, my lord.”
“The music is about to begin. Shall we?” He held his hand out to indicate she could pass in front of him. She glanced at Anna before moving gracefully toward an open spot in the growing crowd of couples.
Lavinia found it nearly impossible to keep still until the music began and they were moving around the dance floor. When the Marquess did not say anything, she decided to broach the subject herself.
“I must ask you, my lord,” Lavinia hurried to the topic she wanted to discuss. The dance would not be long enough for all the questions she wanted to ask as it was. Better not to delay matters. “You must tell me what you meant by your warning. You must know something I do not know. I do not believe you would have taken the time to warn me otherwise.”
“So you trust what I am telling you?” The Marquess of Kent sounded surprised. She gazed at his handsome face.
“I must have more information before I can make that kind of decision, my lord.”
“I understand, Miss Bronson. Unfortunately, I have given my word. I cannot reveal the reason behind this warning. You must simply trust me. We must not even speak of this matter in public. It is a matter that should be kept private.”
“I cannot speak with you in private, my lord,” Lavinia said, scandalized. “Perhaps you can send the information in a letter.”
Lavinia did not want to wait for another letter. She wanted the Marquess to explain his warning to her right at that moment. Frustration slid through her as she suspected he was delaying further.
He shook his head. “This is a matter that must remain a secret. I fear a letter might fall into the wrong hands. I would much prefer to speak with you in person in a private capacity.”
Lavinia frowned, tilting her head as she spun in a circle. “I do not understand, my lord, how something that sounds so important should have anything to do with my life or the man I intend to marry.”
“You will understand once it is explained to you,” the Marquess of Kent replied. “But it must be explained in person and in private.”
Lavinia expelled an irked breath. “You do understand, my lord, that what you are asking could result in a horrible stain on my reputation, one that would follow me forever, ruining my chances of a proper future? Even more than the existing rumors already have?”
At that, his face grew serious. “I would never allow such a thing,” he told her earnestly. Lavinia felt her heartbeat quicken as she gazed into his sincere eyes. “I would rather destroy myself than deprive you of the future you deserve. Please accept my apologies for the damage I have done and rest assured that I will not repeat the same mistake this time. You will have to trust me.”
It was the secon
d time he had asked her this, asked for her trust, when there was absolutely no reason for it to be freely given. And yet…Lavinia sighed. She had the feeling she was about to do something very risky. “Alright. I shall trust you. Against my better judgment, I will. How do you propose to meet in order to have the explanation given but not more gossip caused?”
The Marquess of Kent flashed her a brilliant smile, full of mischief. “You leave that to me. I shall arrange everything. You simply have to be at the corner of Corwell Street and Alfen Lane in three days’ time, at noon. If anyone asks, say you are meeting with a female friend.”