by Beers, Laura
“It would be best if everyone in the family came,” Harriet encouraged.
Frowning, Lord Bideford said, “I suppose I could move some things around, but no dawdling.”
Emma clapped her hands in excitement. “I haven’t been to Gunter’s in ages!”
“By ages, you mean a few weeks ago when I accompanied you?” Charles asked good-naturedly.
“I suppose it has only been a few weeks,” Emma replied.
Harriet looked at Ellie expectedly. “Are you in, my dear?”
Ellie glanced around the table and saw all of them giving her encouraging smiles, except for Lord Bideford. A wry smile twisted his lips, his gaze faintly annoyed. But she knew that was the only encouragement she was going to get from him.
“I suppose I wouldn’t mind trying Gunter’s,” she said hesitantly.
Emma shifted in her chair to face her. “They have the most delectable flavors,” she revealed. “You will have a most difficult time choosing just one.”
Charles chuckled. “Emma is the least decisive person when it comes to ordering at Gunter’s. She will stare at the flavors for hours, if you allow her to.”
Ellie snuck a glance at Lord Bideford and saw that he was watching her. Rather than look away, he spoke. “You must be strong. Can you do that?”
“I can.”
“I’m glad to hear it, because there is a lot at stake with this outing.”
“I am well aware.”
Lord Bideford bobbed his head in approval. “Good.” He pushed back his chair and rose. “I will be in my study until we depart.”
To Ellie’s surprise, he stopped next to her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder, causing a flutter in her stomach. “We are all in this together,” he said in a low voice.
Before she could reply, Lord Bideford removed his hand and departed from the room without saying another word. She found it odd that she had such a reaction to his touch. Perhaps dancing the waltz with him the night before affected her more than she realized. It had been a magical moment for her, but she knew that Lord Bideford did not feel the same way. He had only danced with her out of obligation.
Regardless, it would be in her best interest if she did not develop feelings for the cantankerous marquess.
13
Roswell walked next to Miss Bentley as they approached Gunter’s Tea Shop. She’d said very little on the carriage ride over, and he hoped that she was up to the task at hand. She needed to be strong.
He decided to break the silence. “Are you nervous?”
“Dreadfully,” Miss Bentley admitted.
“I assumed as much, but you have no reason to be.”
She glanced over at him, her brows knitted. “I don’t?”
“Not at all,” he replied. “We are all here to ensure this outing is successful.”
“I think we both know what is at stake if I don’t marry this Season.”
With an encouraging smile, he said, “With any luck, my solicitor has made some progress on your case and you won’t need to marry quickly.”
“Wouldn’t that be grand?”
As they entered Gunter’s, Emma spoke up in excitement. “I believe I will try the artichoke ice cream,” she said. “Wait… no. I am going with orange flower.”
Charles chuckled as he shook his head. “So it begins,” he joked.
Roswell led Miss Bentley towards a display. “Would you care for an ice, or one of their other delectable treats?”
Miss Bentley’s eyes roamed over the fruits, cakes, and sugar-spun creations before they landed on the ices. “I wish to try the ice, but there are so many options,” she murmured. “Whichever will I choose?”
Emma walked over with a dish in her hand. “I decided on the parmesan, and it is delicious.” She took a bite and sighed. “Frankly, you can’t go wrong with any flavor.”
Miss Bentley turned towards Roswell. “I believe I’ll go with the lemon ice.”
“That isn’t daring at all,” he teased.
“I know, but my mother said it was her favorite,” she explained.
Roswell nodded his understanding and went to place their order. Once he was handed the dishes, he extended the lemon ice to Miss Bentley.
“Thank you.” As she settled the spoon in her mouth, her eyes grew wide. “This is divine!” she exclaimed.
Roswell chuckled. “I’m glad you enjoy it.”
They stepped outside and found a small table, sitting down to enjoy their treats. Roswell noted all the carriages lining the street and watched as the waiters ran back and forth to take their orders and fetch their sweets.
“Is it always this busy?” Miss Bentley asked.
Charles nodded. “It is,” he replied. “Gunter’s is the only place a lady can be seen eating alone with a gentleman without damaging her reputation.”
“I must admit that living in the country afforded me more freedoms when it came to my reputation,” Miss Bentley remarked.
Emma took a bite of her ice, then said, “As you well know, a woman’s reputation is the most important thing she can possess.”
Miss Bentley sighed. “I have learned how quickly it can be tarnished, as well,” she stated. “My mother is going to be terribly disappointed in me when I fail to secure a match this Season.”
“Don’t give up hope,” Charles encouraged. “You have only had a setback on your journey.”
“It is a rather large setback.”
“But it doesn’t mean you won’t be successful in finding a suitor this Season.”
“You are right, of course,” Miss Bentley said. “Besides, this lemon ice has made my mood much lighter.”
Emma bobbed her head. “I have discovered that a treat from Gunter’s can cure just about any ailment.”
Charles chuckled. “You must excuse Emma,” he teased. “She can get quite excitable about Gunter’s.”
“I do not fault her for that,” Miss Bentley responded. “I am sorry that your mother wasn’t able to join us. Perhaps a treat from Gunter’s will cure her headache.”
“I shall see to it,” Charles said.
Miss Bentley turned her attention towards Roswell. “You seem rather quiet, my lord.”
“I am just enjoying my ice before it melts,” he replied.
“Smart man.” She smiled, and he felt his mood bolstered by the sight of it. He needed to squash his growing attraction towards her before it got out of hand. There could be no future between him and Miss Bentley. To even think so was ludicrous.
Roswell returned his attention towards his dish and quickly ate the rest of his ice. Once he was done, he set the dish down on the table and leaned back in his chair, waiting for the rest of the group to finish.
He noticed they were garnering some attention, but it was nothing like what they’d experienced last night. If they were lucky, another scandal would break soon, and Miss Bentley’s plight would be long forgotten.
As they all rose from their chairs, Roswell noticed that Lady Persephone was walking down the street, her mother by her side. Her face lit up when she saw him, and she put her hand up in greeting.
He waited until she stopped in front of him. “Good afternoon,” he greeted politely.
“What a pleasant surprise to run into you here,” Lady Persephone said, then turned her attention towards Miss Bentley. “And this must be the woman your mother is hosting this Season. I have been hoping for an introduction.”
“Allow me to rectify that situation right now,” Roswell replied, shifting his gaze to Miss Bentley as well. “Miss Bentley, allow me to introduce you to Lady Walmsley and her daughter, Lady Persephone.”
Lady Persephone tipped her head cordially, but he could see disapproval in her features. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her words were amiable enough, but they didn’t seem genuine.
“Likewise,” Miss Bentley said.
Lady Persephone turned her attention back to Roswell. “What flavor of ice would you recommend?” she asked, batting her eyelashe
s at him. Has she always been this brazen, he wondered.
“I’m afraid I am the wrong person to ask,” he remarked. “I rarely frequent Gunter’s, and when I do, I always get the same flavor.”
“Which is?”
“I’m afraid I just go with the lavender ice,” he admitted. “It isn’t very adventurous, but I know what I like.”
Lady Persephone’s mother spoke up. “Would you care to join us while we partake of our treats?”
Roswell gave her an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I must escort the ladies home, and then I am needed at the House of Lords.”
“That is a pity,” Lady Persephone said with a pout.
“Perhaps another time?”
Drats! Why had he just committed to that? He had no intention of taking Lady Persephone to Gunter’s. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized they would never suit.
Lady Persephone’s pout turned into a victorious smile. “I shall be looking forward to it, my lord.”
As they all moved to continue on, Miss Bentley tumbled forward. Roswell rushed to catch her.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Miss Bentley’s eyes shot towards Lady Persephone. “I am,” she murmured.
Roswell released her and took a step back. “You must be careful where you are walking,” he chided lightly.
Lady Persephone spoke up. “These streets are notoriously uneven,” she declared with a wave of her hand.
Roswell offered his arm to Miss Bentley. “It might be best if I escorted you back to the coach.”
“Thank you,” she said, placing her hand on his arm.
Once they had walked away from Lady Persephone, Emma glanced over at Miss Bentley and gave her a sympathetic look. “I am sorry for what Lady Persephone did back there.”
Roswell looked at his sister curiously. “What did she do?”
“She stuck her foot out and intentionally tripped Ellie,” Emma revealed.
“For what purpose?”
Emma frowned. “We both know that something as innocent as a fall can damage a woman’s reputation.”
Turning his attention towards Miss Bentley, he asked, “Is this true?”
“I’m afraid so,” Miss Bentley replied, “and I was most grateful that you were able to catch me before I fell to the ground.”
“As am I,” Roswell said. “I must admit that I find Lady Persephone’s actions reprehensible.”
Miss Bentley gave him a timid smile. “Fortunately, there was no harm done, and my reputation did not suffer any more because of it.”
“That is very solicitous of you.” He was amazed at how quickly Miss Bentley was able to excuse Lady Persephone’s actions. She truly was a remarkable young woman. He stifled a groan at that thought. Perhaps he should focus on her faults, rather than her attributes. But as he started to do so, he found he was having a hard time thinking of any.
Ellie walked down the darkened hall towards the library. She hoped to select a book to read, but she was also secretly hoping to see Lord Bideford one last time before she went to bed.
She found him to be the most interesting contradiction. On the outside, he could be gruff and unapproachable, but then she caught glimpses of a kinder, more gentle side of him. She should just turn around and go back to her bedchamber, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Besides, she mused, he might not even be in the library at this late hour.
Ellie stepped into the room and saw Lord Bideford sitting in front of the fireplace with a book in hand. Suddenly feeling very foolish, she moved to depart without him seeing her.
His voice stopped her. “You don’t have to leave.”
Turning back to face him, she said, “I don’t wish to bother you.”
“Please, come in,” he encouraged, closing his book. “I find I would rather converse with you than read a book about social injustice.”
“That does sound rather awful.” Ellie walked over and put her candle on the table. “I was just hoping to select a new book for the evening.”
“You finished the last one?”
“I did.”
He gestured towards the chair next to him. “You are more than welcome to sit and rest a spell.”
A thrill of excitement shot through her at his simple invitation. “That sounds lovely,” she replied.
Setting his book down, Lord Bideford said, “I am surprised you are up at such a late hour.”
“I’m afraid a lot is on my mind.”
“Anything you wish to discuss?”
Ellie clasped her hands in her lap. “I just don’t know what will become of my mother and I if I don’t marry this Season.”
“You mustn’t give up hope,” Lord Bideford said. “My solicitor still might come through for us.”
“I know,” she said, “but what if he is unable to help us?”
“Then I suppose my mother will have no choice but to hire your mother on as a companion, and you will become Emma’s companion.”
“We couldn’t ask you to do that for us.”
“Whyever not?” he asked.
“You have already been so kind to me,” she acknowledged. “I don’t wish to burden you any more than I already have.”
“I don’t consider you a burden.”
She lifted an eyebrow in response.
He chuckled. “At least, not anymore. I’m afraid I find you somewhat tolerable.”
“Somewhat tolerable,” she repeated in amusement. “That is quite the compliment from you.”
“I assure you that it is, especially since I don’t like most people.”
Ellie tilted her chin. “Why is that?”
Lord Bideford sighed. “Now that I am a marquess, everyone wants something from me. Whether it is my time, my political affiliation, or they want me to invest in their business… It is a never-ending cycle, I’m afraid.”
“You are most fortunate that you are in a position to help people,” she remarked. “No one wants anything from me, because I have nothing to give.”
“That’s not true,” he replied. “I have found your cheerful disposition, albeit slightly bothersome, to be quite helpful.”
“In what way?”
“You have brought laughter back into my life,” he replied. “I haven’t had a reason to laugh in years.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“That is why I don’t want you to give up hope,” he said. “You must trust that I will find a way to help you and your mother, even if it means you live in one of the cottages at our country estate.”
“That is most considerate of you.”
Lord Bideford smiled. “I find that you bring out the generous side of me.”
“You flatter me, my lord,” she said, returning his smile.
“I can assure you that was my intention.”
The sound of the crackling fire drew his attention, and Ellie took a moment to study his handsome face. Was it her imagination, or had his features softened slightly? He appeared much more approachable than he once had.
He turned towards her, and she realized she had been caught staring. She quickly lowered her gaze to her lap, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about you,” Lord Bideford said.
“What would you wish to know?” she asked, bringing her gaze back up.
He cocked his head. “What was your childhood like?”
A genuine smile touched her lips. “It was wonderful,” she replied. “My parents loved each other dearly, and they ensured that I was properly spoiled.”
“That does sound wonderful.”
“My mother had an interest in botany, so we spent a lot of time in the woods behind our manor,” Ellie shared. “She felt it was her duty to know the herbs and plants so she could help people in town with whatever ailed them.”
“That was most thoughtful of her,” he acknowledged.
“We were constantly delivering baskets to the people. My mother wanted me to appreciate what I had b
een given, so she ensured that I saw how other people lived. I visited some homes that had only dirt for a floor, but they were still filled with love.”
“Your mother did you a great service.”
“I believe so,” she said. “She did ensure that I received a proper education, though.”
“That was never in question.”
“I was sad when I was sent away to boarding school, but it was for the best,” she sighed.
Lord Bideford eyed her curiously. “You don’t sound very convincing.”
“I just wish I’d been home with my father more, especially since he is gone now,” she said, her words trailing off to a whisper.
Lord Bideford nodded. “I’m afraid we never really know the true impact of someone until they are gone from our lives.”
“I knew what I had, but I never thought I would actually lose him.”
“My father always seemed larger than life,” he shared. “I naïvely thought death wouldn’t be able to take him, either.”
“May I ask how your father died?”
“Cancer of the stomach,” he shared. “The doctors tried every cure available, but it wasn’t enough to keep him alive.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He huffed. “My father was constantly putting a Turkish fig poultice on his stomach because the doctors said they had a medicinal quality.”
“You don’t believe that to be the case?”
“My father hired the best doctors for his care, but they always resorted to the usual practices of blood-letting, dieting, and laxatives.”
“I’m afraid it was the same situation for my father,” she revealed. “But the doctors made him drink this concoction of rum and boiled milk, sweetened only by loaf sugar.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“I remember my father throwing it up more times than he kept it down towards the end,” she admitted dejectedly.
Lord Bideford’s eyes held compassion as he said, “It is hard to watch someone waste away in front of you.”
“That it is,” Ellie readily agreed. “I just wish I had my miniature portrait of him.”
“Did you leave it behind with your mother?”
She shook her head. “Lord Worthington wouldn’t let us take anything with us, other than what he approved.”