by Ayles, Abby
Still, he could not help the pang of longing and jealousy that struck him as he watched Miss Natalie dance. As he saw the way that she smiled at her dance partner and those around her.
Remain sensible, he told himself. Do not let your despair rule you, and do not give into false hope.
He could handle this just fine. He had much else to occupy his thoughts such as Father, the estate, and his sister. Surely he could handle a little bit of being in love.
Or so he told himself.
Chapter 27
Natalie could not help but feel a bit lighter being in a ballroom.
It felt in a way like coming home. The sights! The dresses! The gossip! The gentlemen! The music! The dancing! The food!
It was marvelous to once again feel like a proper part of something. She had almost forgotten how much she loved the London season, how much she missed it, until now. Oh, the idea of leaving it and going back to the country seemed like a crime against her own nature.
For the first few minutes she had been nothing short of ecstatic. She had run into many acquaintances from all over and had been happily catching up on all the news.
Then…it had started.
She had known of course that Lord Ridgecleff had put out a notice of their engagement in the papers. It was the proper thing to do and they had waited enough time so that it would not intrude upon Elizabeth or Regina’s nuptial announcements.
But knowing sort of in the back of her mind and really truly having it in front of her face were two entirely different things.
Because now people were asking her about her engagement.
“And to the son of an earl!” said one Miss Crawley. “The heir, no less. Miss Natalie, I quite envy you.”
There were catty remarks about how Regina had managed to do her one better and score a duke, but most people simply wanted to know what Lord Ridgecleff was like.
“Is he quite as dashing as they say?” asked one lady.
“I’ve heard the most alluring stories about his time on the Continent,” said another.
At first, Natalie worried that she would have to lie. That she would have to make up stories about Lord Ridgecleff in order to sound like the eager, blushing bride.
Yet, as she spoke, she found that she wasn’t making up a single thing.
She talked about how he was rough around the edges at first.
“We used to have such disagreements,” she admitted with a smile and a chuckle. “He’s quite stubborn, you know, as am I. We had this one row—but of course we worked it all out in the end.”
She spoke of how she had grown used to his manner and how they had found a way to balance one another out.
“He would tell me such stories about the Continent! It made me feel quite like a little girl again, you know, so unlearned, never having left England. But he’s not at all stuck up about it.”
She would talk about how dedicated he was to his brother and sister, and how determined he was to do right by his estate and his family name.
In fact, she didn’t have to make a single thing up. Oh, she had to omit certain things, such as how fast their engagement was. She certainly couldn’t tell them that she had all but hated Lord Ridgecleff at first.
Nor could she tell them about her own deplorable behavior. Or the full truth of their lack of connection at first.
But she could tell them about how she had come to hold him in such high regard.
“He is a good man,” she told them. “A very good one. I’m very lucky.”
And the truth was…that she believed that. That she felt it was the truth. He was a good man.
Of course, whenever she spoke of how responsible he was, there were plenty of people willing to share the stories to the contrary that they had heard about him.
Natalie had heard these stories, the truth of them, from Lord Ridgecleff himself. It was clear to her that many of these stories from the lips of her current companions were exaggerated.
However, it was not with disdain or mean-spiritedness that people spoke of him. Especially with the women. Instead it was with admiration and…dare Natalie say…attraction.
It was not the first time she had felt jealousy. It felt as though lately all that she had done was be jealous of one sister of hers or another.
Yet, this was unexpected. She had not at all planned on being jealous in regards to what other women thought of her future husband. Jealousy was ridiculous in that case. After all, she was the one who could set him free or not and she had no intention of such a thing. She had him, and therefore she had won.
But this was not an engagement where she could be certain of her intended husband’s affections.
Lord Ridgecleff seemed to be warming to her. Or at least he had been until their trip up to London and his strange silence. But that was nothing more than a general esteem. Love? True affection? That was another question altogether.
Natalie watched him out of the corner of her eye as he made a circuit about the room. He stopped and talked to another gentleman, one that Natalie did not know. They were laughing together.
He had such a nice laugh and smile. She loved that she could bring that out in him, but she did wish he would do it more often. He deserved to relax.
“He is rather handsome, is he not?” Miss Crawley sighed. “You have gotten yourself a catch!”
That was the overall decision of the night, it seemed, from the ladies. A handsome man and one that Natalie should be proud to marry.
She would feel a little more proud and a little less worried if every woman didn’t sound distinctly as though she wished she were the one marrying Lord Ridgecleff, instead of Natalie.
It wasn’t just his title or money, either. There was a distinct feeling that in personality and looks, Lord Ridgecleff had all that a woman could desire.
Natalie hadn’t thought of it that way before.
She knew, of course, that she had grown fond of Lord Ridgecleff. And she had full knowledge of his care for his estate and his family.
But she had also seen how serious he could be, his dedication to his family, his love of nature and books.
She hadn’t thought, really, about his reputation in the Continent in the context of what other women might find attractive. She had thought of it selfishly. That is, she had thought of it only in how it pertained to her.
She’d thought about it in the context of frustration, of wondering what had happened to the charming man that she had heard about. Now she thought about it from another perspective.
If she had heard about the charming Lord Ridgecleff and his travels on the Continent, then surely others had as well. And those others would be as drawn to the alluring idea of him as she had been before she’d known him.
All the women were swapping stories and staring at him. She saw many a woman in fact try to approach him only to realize they could not interrupt his conversation with his friend without being unforgivably rude about it.
Natalie wasn’t sure what to think about it.
On the one hand she wanted to take all of those women and tell them what Lord Ridgecleff was really like. She wanted to disillusion them about him so that they would leave him alone and stop drooling after him like dogs.
On the other hand, she couldn’t blame them. He did cut a rather dashing figure. And he was witty and entertaining when he wanted to be. They had always enjoyed teasing one another when they were managing to get along.
Why shouldn’t the other women see all the good in him? For he was good. There was no manner of the cad about him. Natalie had found that a man could be charming and good, or charming and a cad, and it was simply a matter of paying attention to tell which was which.
Lord Ridgecleff was a man who was charming but a good man. One that could be depended upon. He would be reliable. He wouldn’t leave his future wife feeling bereft or drive them to ruin or disfavor.
Of course, Lord Ridgecleff wouldn’t choose one of these simpering girls. Natalie knew this not only because sh
e now knew his nature but because he had disapproved of her, and she had once been one of these girls. She’d had a similar nature.
She did still love the balls and the conversation. But now she found that she was less inclined to talk about herself. She found she enjoyed listening to what others had to say rather than simply dominating the conversation herself as she used to.
She also found that she was less inclined towards certain forms of gossip. Trading information was all well and good. But she no longer wished to engage in certain more…mean-spirited forms of discussion.
It surprised her, to find that she had changed so much. She hadn’t noticed until now. Was this how change always was? Something that you didn’t notice happening until it had already happened?
That did not keep her from fully enjoying the ball, however. And she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she could not make Lord Ridgecleff happy in this way.
He ought to be with a woman who would appreciate him. Any one of these ladies would be more than eager to be engaged to him. And he to them.
What had she done to appreciate him? What had she done to show him her care for him?
There were surely plenty of women who would give him what he wanted. What he needed. A woman that he would actually enjoy being around instead of tolerating.
Natalie suddenly wanted to sink into the floor. Hearing all of these women talking about him like this, it made her almost ill. Both with jealousy, and with sadness.
If his father…well, she couldn’t break off the engagement. His father would think that it was somehow Lord Ridgecleff’s fault and would disown him. She couldn’t do that to him. But if she stayed with him, how could she truly make him happy?
She’d been an idiot to think that they could actually become something. All that time at Mountbank had been nothing more than an illusion. Like one of those small fragile bubbles that you could blow. Beautiful and iridescent and ultimately temporary. Popping with the slightest touch from the outside.
There had been a kind of balance, of something, achieved between them while at Mountbank. But that must be all that she could hope for. The way these women were staring at him…she wanted to storm across the room and take his hand, glare at anyone who thought of approaching him.
He might not love her back but he was hers. She wanted to remind every single woman of that. Them with their tales and stories about him. None of them truly knew Lord Ridgecleff. They didn’t know that he actually wanted to spend most of his time reading or that he was a horribly early riser or that he fretted constantly over taking care of his family and his family name.
None of them knew how wonderful he was. They thought he was wonderful but in a completely different way. And a part of Natalie never wanted them to know, wanted it to keep being her little secret, something she knew only from spending so much time with him.
But she had no right to do that. He probably wanted one of these other women instead of her. And why wouldn’t he?
She was selfish, as he’d made it oh so clear to her during their argument. She maintained that he had things to work on as well.
None of these women cooing over him knew that either. Did they know that he wasn’t perfect? That he was the better man for it? No man was perfect, as she was starting to realize. But Lord Ridgecleff had admitted to his faults and let her scold him in a way that she was certain few other men would or did.
Natalie felt a bit like she ought to sit down. She felt dizzy. Was this what love felt like? Sick in the pit of your stomach while the room spun? Knowing that you so badly wanted to claim someone as your own for good and proper when you couldn’t?
If his father were dead she’d release him from it. Tell him to go and find the woman who could be his proper companion.
He’d be sorry, of course. He was a good man and would worry about whatever ridicule she might come under for her behavior. Everyone would have an opinion, of course.
But she would find someone else. Maybe not someone for whom she felt so strongly but surely someone would want her now that she was not so awfully selfish. Or at least trying not to be.
Loving your husband was all well and good but what if he didn’t love you back? Didn’t that mean you had a duty to release him and let him be with someone with whom he would be happy? Wasn’t staying with him for your own feelings selfish?
Natalie had not intended to trap him into a dance when she had told the gentlemen that her next dance was taken by him. She had intended to slip out to the toilette or some such thing to avoid any awkwardness.
But then he had come to her, smiling softly, and she couldn’t say no.
Her heart was in her throat the entire time they danced. It was a good thing that she was so practiced at the quadrille for she could not remember the steps had she tried to concentrate. Her body went through the motions. Her mind, however, was simultaneously elsewhere and intensely, detrimentally focused on Lord Ridgecleff.
Why did he have to be so witty, so teasing and flirtatious? He reminded her of all the things she wanted and couldn’t have.
There were a few times during their dance where he got this look in his eyes…she couldn’t decipher it. It was an almost hurt look, sort of sad but not quite.
He must have been contemplating his future with her. How awful it was to him. The sadness that he should not be able to spend the rest of his life with someone he truly loved.
It made Natalie quite sick to even contemplate. When she asked him what the matter was and he denied it with a jest, she knew for certain. He was lying to spare her feelings, of course. To tell the truth would be both rude and improper seeing as they were in a dance. No place for a marital spat.
And what use was there for him in arguing about it, anyway? She cursed this wretched arrangement. Once she had cursed it for herself but now she cursed it for his sake. It was his father’s wishes and judgment that imprisoned her lord in an unhappy state of impending marriage.
Perhaps, when they returned to Mountbank, there was some way she could persuade the earl? He seemed to like her quite a bit.
Maybe, if she was persuasive enough, she could convince him of his son’s seriousness towards his birthright and his duty. She could persuade him that Lord Ridgecleff did not truly need a bride yet. He could manage Mountbank quite well and take his time in finding someone.
After all, what man did not want his son to be truly happy? And the earl would see—she’d make him see—that his son was not truly happy with Natalie. Once he understood that he had to allow her to break off the engagement. He’d let his son take his time finding someone with whom he could truly share his life and his heart.
The thought made Natalie want to burst into tears. She had thought that their different temperaments would render them unable to truly connect with one another. That they would forever be at odds.
Now it felt as though they balanced one another out. She didn’t mind being in Mountbank for quite a bit of the year if she could throw a ball or two. She liked reading to Lord Ridgecleff, and she liked walking with him.
They would never be truly aligned but she liked to think that they could challenge one another and raise one another up, encourage better behavior and intellect in each other.
But perhaps that was all just wishful thinking. She was most likely only painting a fairytale for herself based on her feelings for him. He couldn’t be happy with her, not really. She had to accept that.
For now, though, it was wonderful to dance with him. To flirt with him and to watch him laugh and smile. To turn about the dance floor and know that dozens of women were looking at her with envy.
It wasn’t permanent, but she would take it. It was all that she had. Just this dance. This illusion of togetherness. They had to play their parts in public, after all.
He could be as distant and curt as he wanted with her when they were alone or back at Mountbank. She had earned it. Perhaps at some earlier point she had the chance to earn his affection through her behavior, but that time
had passed. She had botched it horribly.
No, best to just accept that for now they had to play the happy couple. That meant she got to dance with him and flirt with him. It meant she got to pretend that his affected caring for her was genuine.
It was better than nothing, she supposed.
As the dance ended, she could already see his eyes growing distant. He was pulling away from her in mind if not in body.
She smiled, curtsying to him. She could see one of her other partners coming up to claim her for the next dance. Mr. Corwich, a lovely young gentleman of a previous acquaintance. She was going to try and persuade him about Emma since he would dance with her after.
She wasn’t trying to matchmake exactly. She had seen the error of her ways in that. It was more that she wanted to see what each man thought so that she might advise Emma. For Emma would undoubtedly come to her with her opinions of the men. Natalie wanted to be sure to steer her in the right direction and that all false hope be snuffed out at once.
Her heart wasn’t in the dance though. Neither was it in the conversation. She kept it up in an almost mechanical manner, like a clock that ticked onward simply because it was designed that way.
She hoped that her dance companion did not notice.
“You seem preoccupied, Miss Natalie,” he said.
Ah. He had noticed then. It was quite rude of her.
“I do beg your pardon,” she replied. “It is only that…”
“You are a lady in love.” Mr. Corwich smiled. “I can see how your eyes track our Lord Ridgecleff. He does cut a good figure. And he is a most amicable gentleman.”
“Thank you,” Natalie said. “I am pleased to hear you say so. Of course the general public does not have the right to give or withhold permission in a marriage. But it is a pleasure to know that a marriage is approved of—one would not wish to be married to a rake, after all.”