“I can’t do it! I won’t do it!” Aidan cried, angry tears brimming in her eyes, yet she fought against their spilling over. “I can’t possibly marry a man I don’t love. I don’t even like him! I can’t bear the thought of his hands on me.”
A graphic vision of her forthcoming wedding night leapt into her mind, and Aidan shivered through and through. Seeing the reaction, Eugenia hopped to her feet and rushed to Aidan’s side. “Calm yourself,” Eugenia said, slipping her arm around Aidan’s slim waist, leading her to the green-and-yellow-striped silk-covered settee. “There must be a way to extricate you from this mess. If we put our heads together, surely we can come up with something.”
“What? Short of running away, I—”
“That’s it!” Eugenia exclaimed.
“What’s it?” Aidan asked, staring at her friend.
“Running away.”
“I’ve already thought along those lines, but it won’t work.”
“Why?”
“First of all, with this month’s allowance already spent and my inheritance held in trust for two more years, I’ve barely a farthing to see me past the old London gates.”
Instantly Aidan wished she hadn’t donated the last of her allowance to her favorite charity, an act which was done with regularity and secrecy. At the time, though, she’d never have imagined herself faced with such a thorny problem as she now was. She quickly swept aside her momentary regret, knowing the orphans’ needs were far greater than her own. Besides, if she found it necessary, she could always borrow some money from Eugenia.
“Second,” she continued, “once my father discovers I’m gone, you know as well as I do, he’ll come after me. And last of all, once he finds me—and I’m certain he will—I dare not think of the punishment he’d mete out. I’d probably be locked away in my room, only to be let out years from now, when I’m old and wrinkled.”
“True,” Eugenia said, a touch of drollness in her voice. “But, still, by running off and publicly rebuffing the earl, you’d be saved from an unwanted marriage.”
“With Sedgewinn, maybe,” Aidan admitted. “But once the gossips have quieted, I might find myself saddled with someone equally as obnoxious or even less desirable, if that’s at all possible.”
“I see your point.”
“Why, oh, why did the Queen have to make mention of a husband?” Aidan asked, not expecting an answer.
“Perhaps, with her own recent marriage and her first child due in five months, she wishes to see you as happy as she. I hear she’s madly in love with Prince Albert—”
“And he’s most attentive to her,” Aidan cut in. “But Her Majesty’s circumstances were far different from mine. No one forced her into an unwanted marriage. In fact, Victoria was the one who proposed to Albert.”
Eugenia laughed. “Aidan, I believe that’s the correct protocol. With Albert being a prince from the duchy of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, as well as a second son, and Victoria being Queen of England, it was a trifle difficult for him to bend upon one knee and ask the hand of one whose power far exceeds his own.”
“I know that,” Aidan conceded. “But it’s a bit unfair I can’t be allowed to do the same.”
“Why can’t you?” Eugenia asked, a smile lighting her face and eyes.
Aidan blinked. “What? Propose?” She saw her friend’s nod. “To whom?”
“From all the dashing young men you’ve refused, you can’t expect me to believe there wasn’t at least one you didn’t find favor with.”
“That’s why I refused them, Eugenia. I found nothing intriguing about any of them. My heart did not a thing.”
“I said nothing of love, Aidan. I was thinking more on the lines of compatibility … friendship. If there were only one in the lot who’s still unattached and whom you think you could abide as a mate, then I’d say he’d be considerably better than the one who awaits you now.”
“If I were to find someone, what then?”
“Speak to His Grace. From what you’ve told me, his main concern seems to be getting you installed under another’s protection, freeing himself from his duties. Perhaps he will settle for someone other than the Earl of Sedgewinn to take on his responsibilities.”
“Am I such a burden to him that he wishes only to be rid of me?” Aidan asked, then noted Eugenia’s look of indulgence. “You need not answer. I’m well aware I’ve no one to blame but myself for this travesty.” She sighed; her shoulders slumped in dejection. “If only I hadn’t been so … so—”
“Impetuous?” Eugenia asked, her arm slipping around her friend’s shoulders, and watched Aidan’s bowed head nod in agreement. “It’s not a flaw, Aidan. You simply have some girlish ways about you still.”
Laughter broke from Aidan’s lips. “You sound like someone’s persevering aunt. You’re only a year older than I, Eugenia.”
“And a year wiser.”
“A savant, you say?”
“Hardly. But you shouldn’t be so down on yourself. There’s still hope.”
“Convince me.”
“Let’s say you’re able to think of someone to link up with, someone you can abide, and His Grace refuses to change his mind about Sedgewinn. You could always elope, like David and I did.”
“A simple solution for you, Eugenia.” Aidan rose to pace the room, her lavender silk skirt brushing the highly polished mahogony furniture as she traipsed the area in agitation. “Your father was all for your elopement. Being the youngest of six girls, you saved him the expense of yet another wedding. It simply won’t work in my case. The moment my father finds I’m gone, he’ll enlist an army to come after me. I know him. No one crosses him and gets away with it. Ever!” She stopped and turned toward her friend. “Besides, there’s no one to elope with!”
“Can’t you think of one man … just one?”
Inside her head, Aidan quickly ran the list of dandies, fops, and titled gentlemen who’d requested her hand in marriage and scratched an imaginary black line through each. They might still want her, but as before, she wanted none of them. “No, not a one. It’s useless, I tell you … useless!”
Suddenly the front door was flung open, crashing against the wall; a shout erupted in the entry, startling both women. Eugenia vaulted to her feet and rushed toward the sound of her husband’s frantic voice. “What is it, David?” she asked, reaching the doorway, Aidan at her heels.
“There’s been an attempt on the Queen’s life! Come! Everyone’s off to the palace to see if she’s all right.”
The two women rushed out the door, the Earl of Manley behind them, and swept down the steps into the carriage.
“Does Her Majesty still live?” Aidan asked anxiously. The bays lurched into a gallop, jerking her back into her seat as they rounded the square and turned left onto Portman Street, traveling south. Although she’d been angry with the Queen for suggesting she take a husband, Aidan never wished any evil upon Victoria.
“By all reports, yes,” David said, his handsome face quite serious, blue eyes showing uncertainty. The thundering bays whipped the corner and headed west toward Park Lane, then south to Piccadilly. Tossed about in their seats, the trio felt as though they were on a violently pitching ship, caught in the midst of an intense storm, yet they voiced no protest, the Queen’s welfare foremost in their minds. “But I wish to see for myself,” David finally finished, retrieving his toppled hat from the carriage floor.
“What happened, David?” Eugenia asked as the carriage turned west onto Piccadilly.
“I have little information, except someone took a shot at Her Majesty and Albert. Other than that, I—” The carriage careened left around the corner at the western tip of Green Park to head down Constitution Hill, and instantly came to a bone-crushing stop, almost throwing David and Eugenia into Aidan’s lap. “By the gods!” David exclaimed. “Would you look at it!”
Hundreds of carriages congested the street as the anxious owners inside tried to make their way to the palace. A throng of pedestrians crush
ed the walkways, heading in the same direction. As their own carriage moved barely inches at a time, Aidan noted a crowd gathered on the opposite side of the street. Anxious questions were yelled to a man who was perched high on the shoulders of several others.
“Was Her Majesty injured?” called a woman’s voice above the rest.
“No. Luckily, the fool was a bad marksman, considering he was but six paces away. He shot once and missed, then leveled a second pistol and fired again. Prince Albert shoved Her Majesty down in the seat, covering her with his own body.”
“Hear, hear!” several in the group responded.
“Praise the Prince!” a few more harped.
When the crowd settled again, the man continued, “A group of us jumped the dimwit and wrestled him to the ground. When it was all over, the Queen and the Prince went on for their ride as though nothing had happened.”
A loud chant rose to fill the air. “Long live the Queen! Praise be to the Prince!”
Aidan, Eugenia, and David joined in the salute until their carriage rolled beyond the joyous throng. Her violet eyes twinkling, Aidan laughed. “It seems the Prince Consort has suddenly gained the approval of the English. But only yesterday, the lot wished to ship him back to Saxe-Coburg.”
“Indeed. We English are a touchy lot,” David said, smiling. “Had Albert been anyone but another German, we might have accepted him better. But, with his show of bravery in risking his own life for our Queen’s, I think the tide has turned in his direction. Perhaps the fates have deemed it so.”
“Ho! I say! Lord Manley!” a masculine voice called, drawing the threesome’s attention toward a young gentleman who had dashed into the street, dodging other carriages as he ran toward their own. “Might I beg a ride?”
“Certainly, Lord Edmonds. Hop aboard,” David replied, stretching out a hand to assist Viscount George Edmonds into the still moving vehicle.
The carriage suddenly gained speed, and the viscount flopped into the vacant seat next to Aidan. He tipped his polished beaver top hat in his gloved hand, exposing a wealth of curly blond locks. “A thousand pardons, Lady Manley,”—he turned his attention to Aidan—“Lady Prescott.” He smiled. “Forgive my intrusion, but there was such a crush on the sidewalk, I feared I’d be trampled in the exodus.”
“Since we’re all going in the same direction and have an extra space to share, you are most welcome to join us, Lord Edmonds,” Eugenia replied, noting how the viscount’s interested gaze lingered upon her friend. Soft brown eyes seemed to delight in her every move. “You have no objections, do you, Aidan?”
“Of course not,” she said, smiling, her amethyst eyes inspecting the newcomer with rising interest.
Not until this very moment had she given much credence to Eugenia’s suggestion she elope with one of her former suitors. But, then, she’d forgotten entirely about George Edmonds.
Although he was not overtly handsome, he was, nonetheless, passable. A pleasant young man, three years older than herself and almost a head taller, he had always shown the utmost courtesy to her. When Aidan had gently declined his proposal of marriage this past April while they were in attendance at a spring ball, she’d felt a bit of remorse, for it had been obvious George had been heartbroken. Yet, he’d risen from his knee, where it was bent upon the garden path, and smiled, stating quietly that he understood.
Since that night, she’d only seen him in distant passing. Perhaps her rejection had hurt him more than she’d realized, for it seemed he’d purposely kept himself at bay. She felt it a shame, too. Although she did not love George, she liked him, very much. Enough to marry? she wondered. Perhaps the fates have deemed it so. David’s words, spoken a second before George’s voice had caught their attention, rolled through her head, and Aidan decided perhaps the fates had at that.
“It’s good to see you again, Lord Edmonds,” Aidan said, her dazzling smile melting George’s heart. “You’ve hurt my feelings by keeping yourself hidden all these past months. I trust nothing has happened to keep you away.”
“I … I…” Suddenly tongue-tied, George fell silent; a spot of red crept up his fair skin, blotching his cheeks.
“Aha!” David interjected, saving an embarrassed George from answering. “We’re at the palace. Hendricks,” he called to his driver, “see if you can get us closer.”
Hendricks looked at the sea of carriages, packed like fish into a tin, and frowned. “I’ll try, sir. But I can’t promise.”
“Do whatever you can.” As the carriage wended its way through the narrow avenues, slowly snaking toward the palace gates, David turned to George. “Yes, Aidan’s right. You’ve been keeping yourself a stranger of late.”
“I’ve been at my father’s estate in Yorkshire, taking care of some business while he’s away. I’ve only returned to London this past week.”
“We’re happy you’re back, Lord Edmonds,” Aidan said, and noted his surprised look.
Their open carriage suddenly snagged the wheel of another, halting their progress. While Lord Manley offered his profuse apologies to its startled occupants, Hendricks backed the team up, untangling them.
“Seems we’ve come to a standstill,” David said, rising to his feet, glancing around him. “And if I’m not mistaken, those are the Queen’s postilions over there.” He pointed toward some uniformed riders, escorting an unseen conveyance. “They’re still a ways off and seem to be having difficulty getting through all this traffic.” Cheers erupted, swelling ever louder, confirming his words.
Eugenia stood and craned her neck. “Oh, David, I can’t see a thing from here.”
“Then, if you feel adventuresome, we can go it afoot. We might make the gates in time to see the Queen and the Prince.”
“Oh, yes,” Eugenia said excitedly. “Let’s try.”
“Shall we?” David questioned his guests.
Desperately needing a moment alone with George, Aidan searched for an excuse and found one. “I … I find I suddenly feel a bit faint from all the excitement.” She noted Eugenia’s raised brow, for her friend knew as well as she that nothing could make Aidan swoon. Not even the adder the two had come upon while searching the brush beside a rock wall as they looked for Aidan’s riding crop, which she’d dropped when bounding the obstacle on her mare. While Eugenia looked as though she would come unhinged, Aidan had simply stamped her foot and threatened to behead the creature if it didn’t get back into its hole. Apparently the viper had understood, for it had slithered off in haste. “I really must beg off,” she said, pressing the back of her hand to her cheek. “But you three go ahead. Don’t be concerned about me.” Her eyes locked with Eugenia’s, relaying a subtle message. Her friend caught it.
“Oh, Aidan,” Eugenia said with mock sympathy, fighting back her smile. “We can’t possibly leave you here alone.” Then disappointment tinged her voice. “We’ll simply have to see the Queen some other time.”
Suddenly finding his voice, George spoke up. “I will be most happy to stay with Lady Prescott, Lady Manley … if that’s agreeable with her.” He cast concerned eyes on Aidan.
“But, Lord Edmonds,” Aidan objected softly, “you’ll miss the—”
“The Queen is obviously alive and well. My thoughts lie with you, Lady Prescott. It would be most ungentlemanly of me to desert in your time of need. Likewise, there is no need for all of us to miss the event. Lord and Lady Manley can go without us.”
“Well … if you insist,” Eugenia said warily, feigned concern wrinkling her brow. “But I’d feel simply awful if something—” She noted Aidan’s marked frown, warning her not to protest too much, lest George suddenly change his mind. “But, Lord Edmonds, since Aidan is in such capable hands—” A rising chorus grew louder, nearer, apprising everyone the Queen was fast approaching. “Come, David, let’s go!”
To Aidan’s relief, Eugenia snatched David’s hand and began pulling him toward the palace gates. “Thank you, Lord Edmonds,” she whispered weakly, offering a tentative smile after the pa
ir had disappeared. “I do so hate that you should miss the excitement because of me.”
Gentle brown eyes, filled with longing and concern, gazed deeply into hers. “I would never leave you, Aid … uh, Lady Prescott. Never.”
Aidan noted the look of adoration in George’s eyes, and a shadow of guilt darkened her soul. She could never return his affections, she knew. At least, not to the scope in which he offered them to her. Could she ever love him? she wondered. Only as a friend, she decided, truthfully, for she felt no spark within as she gazed at him, no stirring of her blood as he leaned close to her. Nothing whatsoever. And to ask him to join with her in marriage would be an unconscionable act. Especially when her motives were entirely self-serving. In the end, she very well might hurt George, more so than when she’d originally refused his proposal. He deserved far better than an indifferent wife; he deserved to be loved.
“You seem distressed, Lady Prescott,” Lord Edmonds stated, his words breaking through her thoughts. “Are you feeling ill?”
“Yes and no,” Aidan answered on a sigh. “In truth, George, I am distressed, but I’m not ill. Nor am I feeling faint. I used that ruse as a means to speak to you privately, but now … now I must confess I’d thought to take unfair advantage of you.”
George’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t understand.”
No longer able to hold his gentle regard, Aidan turned away. Her fingers plucked at a crease in her skirt. “My father has arranged for me to marry a man I cannot abide,” she blurted, not knowing what else to say, or, for that matter, how to say it. “Since you’d asked for my hand once, I thought to propose we might—”
“Marry?” George asked hopefully, excitedly.
“Yes, but—”
“Oh, Lady Prescott, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” he said, his voice amplifying itself to be heard over the boisterous cries of “God save the Queen.” He grasped Aidan’s hand, pressing it to his breast. “Lady Pres—Aidan, I’d be most honored to have you as my bride.”
A Heart So Innocent Page 2