The Baron's Charade (Regency Stories Book 3)

by Catherine Mayfair

Daniel closed the door and returned to the parlor. Looking around, he sighed. It was time to leave, to say goodbye to a former life so he could begin a new one. Alone.

  ***

  The carriage moved down the street, and Isabel peered out the window and watched the snow fall and collect on the ground. She and her parents were on their way to the home of Lord Smythe, and her parents could barely contain themselves about the upcoming dinner.

  “This will be a union that will be most beneficial,” her father said as he glanced out the carriage window as he had several times since leaving the townhouse, as if doing so would urge the carriage to move faster through the streets. “Most beneficial, indeed.”

  “Now, Peter,” her mother chastised. “You do not know that this dinner will lead to Lord Smythe asking for Isabel’s hand in marriage.” Though the words her mother said revealed nothing of her thoughts, the clasping and unclasping of her hands on a handkerchief revealed her excitement.

  Isabel, on the other hand, did not share in their enthusiasm. What she wished they were doing was returning to the townhouse belonging to Daniel Charmain, for he was the man who had won her heart.

  She sighed. He would be returning to Shelford today, and she would be forced to smile and appear she was enjoying the attention of the Marquess. And, as always, she would do so to please her parents, regardless of how miserable she herself felt. It had been how she was raised, the ways of a society she did not ask to be part of, and she did not like it. However, she also could not oppose her parents no matter how hard she tried. Had she not made several attempts the last few days? And where had that gotten her? Nowhere.

  “The weather reminds me of one cold early-spring day when your mother and I were first married,” her father said, breaking Isabel from her thoughts. “I had gone fishing, and the rain had begun to fall, rain that turned into snow by the time the sun set.” He laughed at the memory. “I collected my things and hurried up the hill, but a patch of snow had frozen into ice, causing me to slip, and by the time I stopped rolling, I was at the bottom of the hill.”

  “I recall that day quite clearly,” her mother said. “We had thought your ankle broken, but thankfully it was just a sprain.”

  Isabel looked at her father. “I did not know you enjoyed fishing.”

  “Oh, yes,” her father said emphatically. “I had forgotten how much I enjoyed that pastime.” He smiled at her mother and patted her hand. “Thankfully, your mother’s quick hands secured my ankle until the doctor was able to take a look at it.”

  Her mother returned the smile, and Isabel could not miss the love behind it. “I was working on a hat when I saw your father hobble up to the house. I thought perhaps a wild animal had attacked him.”

  Isabel studied first the face of her mother and then her father, which were alight with happiness as they reminisced of days past. It was a rare moment, but one she enjoyed when it did come about.

  “Why did you stop fishing?” she asked her father.

  Her father rubbed at his chin. “Well, I do not rightly know now that I think about it. I suppose life can intrude on that which one enjoys. Plus, not many men of my station go fishing; most prefer a good fox hunt. It is not that I do not, of course, but at times I miss sitting alone with a sturdy rod and the surrounding quiet.”

  “So, you wish you could do it again?”

  “Yes,” her father replied thoughtfully. “I suppose I do at that.”

  “It is the same reason I stopped my millinery,” her mother said. “I had other pressing matters, such as a beautiful young daughter to look after and dinners to host. Time slipped away from us.”

  A quiet descended on the carriage, each person lost in his or her own thoughts. Isabel turned her thoughts once again to Daniel and his love of the theater. Then she turned to her father. “What if you went fishing this very day?” she asked. “Would it make you happy?”

  “Yes,” he replied with a laugh. “Though I would be cautious this time with my footing.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Isabel said and then lowered her voice. “Sadly you can never fish again.”

  Her father creased his brow. “Of course I could, child. Why could I not?”

  “Well, people may think poorly of you. A grown man fishing? Surely you must only hunt, as you said before.”

  This brought about a snort from her father. “I will do as I please and not allow others to dictate what I should or should not enjoy in my own time.” He gave a firm nod. “And come to think of it, Martha, our daughter is correct. Perhaps you should make another hat. I know it would bring you great joy to do so.”

  Her mother smiled and agreed, seeming to warm to the idea.

  Isabel took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. Her parents continued to speak their plans and she knew a marvelous opportunity had presented itself.

  “You know, Daniel enjoyed the theater,” she said, her heart racing as she pushed her courage forward. “As much as you enjoy fishing, Father. He was not like you, not caring what others thought, so he lied to protect himself, to protect what he enjoyed doing.”

  “Isabel…” her mother started to say, but Isabel knew that if she stopped now, she would not be allowed the words.

  “You both say you want me to be happy,” she continued. “And, Father, I know you especially do, for you do whatever you can to see me not be hurt.”

  “Well, of course I do,” he said. “I love you and I will not have you in despair.”

  “I came to London in search of a gentleman, one who will be able to reside in my heart. I thought there would be one so perfect that you both would love him as much as I, for in him there would be no fault.” Much to her chagrin, a tear ran down her cheek and she reached up and wiped it away. “However, I came to realize that there is no such thing as a perfect gentleman. We all make mistakes, dear ones at times. Yet, if we set aside those who have done wrong, I fear that no person would remain.”

  Her mother tilted her head as if thinking, and her father sat back in his seat.

  Isabel jumped at the chance to continue. “Daniel has apologized, and I know he would do anything to make amends. And I tell you this. If you truly wish me to be happy, to live a life you have planned for me, then allow him to call on me again. Do not judge the actions of a young man who made a mistake, or the woman who cares for him. You both know that the one you care about may slip on ice or cause you pain, but you never give up on them. Please, I beg of you, do not give up on him, for I have not.”

  Her father let out a deep breath, his jaw set, and Isabel feared her words had fallen on deaf ears once again. Glancing down, her eyes misted.

  However, hearing her father’s voice, she looked up once more.

  “Very well, then,” he said, raising a fist and tapping the roof of the carriage. “Let us see where this journey takes us.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Isabel knew not where they were going, but she suspected her plan had worked, for they were now heading toward the area in which the townhouse Daniel lived was located. She hoped they would not be too late, for she knew he had plans to leave this day to return to Shelford. For all she knew, he was well on his way, ready to stop at an inn for the night. However, a slight chance existed that he was still in London, that her hopes and prayers had somehow reached him and held him here.

  The carriage came to a jerking stop, and someone shouted out several curses that made both her parents redden.

  “What’s going on out there?” her father demanded as he pushed his head out the window he had lowered, the flakes of snow dotting his hat.

  “Nothing, Sir,” the driver shouted down to him.

  “Nothing?” a man yelled.

  Isabel looked out and saw a man standing in front of the carriage with a small cart behind him. He looked quite the spectacle in a horse’s harness—yes! A harness of all things!—and a hat with flaps that fell over his ears. She had never seen such a sight in her life, and if she had not been so anxious to reach Daniel
, the sight might have been amusing.

  “Oh, please, Father!” she begged. “Daniel may still be at his home. Please, we must be on our way.”

  Her father harrumphed and pushed open the door. “See here, young man,” he said, “you are blocking the road with that contraption. Be on your way so the rest of us might pass.”

  “Here, here!” came a shout from behind, and Isabel turned to see several carriages lined up behind their own.

  “I will not!” the man shouted back. “I’ve just as much right as anyone to use this street, and you can’t make me move.”

  The men—her father, their driver, and the horse-man, as well as several men from the other carriages—continued to argue, and Isabel wanted nothing more than to jump out of the carriage and run the rest of the way to Daniel’s house.

  However, she did not have to do this, for when her father offered the man some money—how much, she did not know, nor did she care—he trotted off, his cart in tow behind him and a smile on his face.

  “There, that takes care of that,” her father said as he returned to the carriage and began blowing on his hands. “The idiocy of some people.” He shook his head.

  Isabel could not agree with him more.

  The carriage continued its trek down the crowded streets. Isabel was surprised at the number of vehicles on the road in such weather, but it was not as if the English backed down from any threat, including snow. Not when it came to attending parties and hosting dinners. If there was anything the ton enjoyed, it was socializing, and she imagined any number of functions were scheduled months in advance for this evening. Despite the snow, they would not be canceled, that much she was certain.

  It seemed an eternity before the carriage finally came to a stop in front of Daniel’s townhouse. The snow now covered the street, numerous wheel tracks marring its surface, and when she stepped out onto the footpath, her slippers disappeared beneath the whiteness. She ignored the cold, however, for the carriage she knew to belong to Daniel was just pulling away from the curb, and she cried out after it, her voice filled with an anguish she did not attempt to stifle.

  “Daniel! No! Please, do not leave!” She almost lost her footing on the icy pavement, and her mother had to grab her arm to keep her from falling.

  “We can follow him,” her mother said. “He will not get far. Why the man would decide to leave in this weather…” She shook her head.

  Isabel made her way back to the carriage, and it took every bit of her patience to keep herself from running. However, if she were to fall and hurt herself, her parents would refuse to follow after Daniel, for they would insist she see a doctor first.

  As she placed a foot on the step, someone called out to her.

  “Isabel!”

  She turned and stared at the man running up to her who took no notice of the slippery pavement. Daniel looked as resplendent as ever in his dark tailcoat and breeches, and she worried that he was not wearing an overcoat. He had to be freezing! She wanted to laugh, for she knew it was her shock in seeing him that had her thinking of what was unimportant.

  “Oh, Isabel, I cannot believe you are here.”

  “I?” she said with wide eyes. “I saw your carriage pull away and thought we were too late.”

  He glanced toward where the carriage had gone with an uncertain look before laughing. “Oh, no, I sent it back. I cannot make a journey home in weather such as this. It would be unfair to my driver, not to mention the poor horses. Please, come inside where it is warm.”

  “No, wait, please,” Isabel said as she grabbed his arm. “I must say this before I lose courage.”

  His face took on a confused look. “Lose your courage? You have to be the most courageous person I know.”

  She wondered if her face could melt all the snow around them it felt so hot. “No, I am not all that courageous, I promise you.” She held up her hand to stop him from saying more. “If I did not say what I must now, it may never come.”

  He nodded to her and pursed his lips as if the force them closed, only making her want to laugh.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to say what was on her heart now or she would never be able to do so again. “Daniel,” she said when she opened her eyes, “I know you have given up much for me.” She held up her hand once more. “If you do not keep silent, I will turn right back around and leave.”

  “I will say nothing,” he said, though a smile played at the corner of his lips.

  “As I was saying,” she said admonishingly, “You have given up your dreams for me, but I want you to know that you are my dream. You are the perfect gentleman, the man for whom I have been searching.” She could not stop the tears that rolled down her face, nor did she try. “I came here to London, young and naive, believing there would be a man without faults. Yet, what I found was that I have many of my own.”

  “As do I,” he whispered. “Though I find you utterly perfect in every way.”

  “Hush,” she said with a smile. “I have not finished what I have to say.”

  He nodded again. “Please.”

  “I also learned something else on this journey. We both speak of love and what it might mean, and now I believe I know what it is.”

  “Tell me,” he said, the smile now gone and a fire in his eyes that made her stomach do flips.

  “Love is willing to spin a tale to impress a woman, though it may be foolish,” she said as the snowfall increased around them, large flakes catching in their hair. “It is the desire to make one happy, to come to her house and beg forgiveness. It is the way a woman watches a man on stage performing when it is his heart’s desire.” She took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Many things such as those constitute love; however, I have learned that it is that feeling, that longing, to know you are a better person when you are with him. That is love. I have no doubt now that I love you, and no other gentleman can make me feel so wonderful as you do.”

  He smiled and brushed snow from her forehead. “That is love,” he agreed. “You have shown me that I need no tales to impress anyone. That it is myself, and being true to that self, which any woman would desire.” He took her gloved hands in his and brought them to his lips. “I, too, am a better man when I am in your presence. I do not need exaggerated stories of travel to impress you, and because of that, and so much more, know that I love you, too.”

  Without a thought for her parents, who were watching down the footpath, she jumped into his arms and allowed him to embrace her right there in the open. The world did not fall apart around them, and it would not, regardless of the tongues that would wag and the gossip they would cause with their open signs of affection. Their embrace was one of two souls thought lost but now reunited in love

  When their hold broke, Daniel offered Isabel his arm, and lacing her arm through his, they walked over to where her parents stood just outside their carriage.

  “Your father,” Daniel whispered. “Will he accept this?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “he has accepted us.”

  Epilogue

  The snow fell in heavy flakes around Isabel and Daniel, just as it had two years before. Isabel could not stop her laughter as Daniel’s feet almost came out from under him and he righted himself in the slush that covered the street.

  “There is no need to rush,” she said, “We will not be late.”

  Daniel sighed. “I know you are right, but I cannot help but be a bit excited.”

  She giggled. “Well, it is no reason to hurt yourself in the process. Though, I suppose that after feeding wild tigers, nothing can hurt you.”

  This made them both laugh and they came to a stop on the street corner.

  “Did you marry me because of my tales?” he asked as he looked down at her.

  She shook her head.

  He crinkled his brow as if in thought and then snapped his fingers. “Was it the way I could tell a story so convincingly everyone listened with apt attention?”

  She shook her head.
“No, it was not that, though it did help in some ways.”

  “Oh. I see. So, what was it that made you decide to marry me?”

  Another couple walked past them, their elderly faces covered in disapproval. However, Isabel could not have cared less. She loved her husband dearly, and if that meant showing that love to the entire world, then so be it. Yes, people would criticize, but she could live with that as long as she had Daniel by her side.

  “Would you like me to be honest?” she asked.

  A smile played at the corner of his mouth. “By all means, lie.”

  She laughed. “No, I will do no such thing. I married you because you are the perfect gentleman and for no other reason.”

  “My lady,” he said as they continued their stroll down the path, their boots covered in snow, “I am far from perfect.”

  “Of this, I am already quite aware,” she said with mock haughtiness. Then she smiled and looked up at him, hoping he could sense the adoration she had for him. “However, our love? That is perfect.”

  “I will not argue that fact, for to do so would be a feeble attempt to simply argue.”

  “See that you do not argue with me, for you know I will win.” She forced a demanding tone, though she only wished to laugh more. In the year they had been married thus far, she laughed more than she had in the entirety of her first nineteen years, and she hoped their laughter would continue for eternity.

  They now resided in London, visiting Shelford only occasionally to see his mother. The Dowager Baroness accepted Isabel readily, and she had been a wonderful mother-in-law thus far. Granted, there had been issues to iron out, but those small wrinkles had been barely noticeable in comparison to how well they got on. Isabel had to admit that she had been terrified after the initial confrontation at dinner when the truth had come out about Daniel and his tryst with the theater, but they had easily put that past them and got on quite well, despite the fact they were mother and daughter-in-law.

  Daniel stopped and they both looked up. Isabel sighed. The Royal Theater was a testament of the greatest plays with the most wondrous of actors taking its stage, and nothing about the place had changed in the past two years.