by Abby Ayles
He thought of how she had arranged for Emma to have the best dance card. How she had accepted his scolding with a grace few other women would have. How she also gave him a scolding in return, rightly pointing out his faults. How bright and vivacious she could be.
It didn’t feel like a lightning bolt or the way so many poets had described it over the years. It felt rather more like he was putting on a well-worn coat. Something comfortable, something he hadn’t realized until this moment that he was missing.
Perry had been right, blast him. John loved her. Was in love with her.
At some point, through spending time together, he had come to do more than simply appreciate Miss Natalie. He had fallen for her.
That was why he was so upset—he was truly jealous at the idea of those other men dancing with her and thinking they could play suitor with her. He genuinely wanted everyone to know that she belonged to him and that he belonged to her.
“My lord?” Miss Natalie said. She sounded in distress. “Are you quite all right?”
Ah. Goodness only knew what his face looked like in that moment. “I am. Quite. I was merely reflecting.”
“Reflecting? If you have time to retreat into your mind right now, then I am clearly not entertaining you enough.”
“Oh, you are, in fact I was reflecting on how quite entertaining you were.”
“See, now you are mocking me,” Miss Natalie laughed. “You are lucky that my vanity is such that I am not affected by it.”
“Would that be vanity or pride?” John asked.
“Well pride is what one thinks of oneself, vanity is what we wish other people would think of us.”
“Cleverly done.”
“I cannot claim credit for it,” Miss Natalie pointed out. “I stole the line from a book I had recently read.”
“Be still my heart,” John replied, feigning shock. “Miss Natalie Hartfield, reading a book? I think the world might be ending.”
“I read to you almost every afternoon, the habit was bound to rub off a bit at some point.”
“Touché. But we shall not be a true couple until we are both picking up one another’s habits.”
“In that case, I suggest you become more sociable at once.”
“I am perfectly sociable!”
“So the rumors say, yet this entire time you have spoken to but one person,” Miss Natalie said archly. “I am beginning to think that reports of your gifted sociability were exaggerated.”
“And yet you’re stuck with me. Whatever shall you do?”
Miss Natalie gave a rather put-upon sigh. “I suppose I shall just have to train you.”
John laughed at that, perhaps too loudly, for he could see others glancing at them.
It was a stupid thing, perhaps, for a man to stand in a crowded ballroom, look at the woman to whom he was engaged, and realize that he loved her.
And yet, that was what was happening to him right at that moment.
He felt a little…not giddy, precisely. Unexpectedly joyful. To actually love one’s intended bride, after all. That was a cause to be joyful, was it not? Especially when one had previously barely tolerated said intended bride.
But then doubt overtook him.
Miss Natalie seemed surprised at his attitude. Perhaps it was that she was not used to him being more energetic. But they had engaged in banter before. It was not as prolonged, certainly, but it had been done. It was the one thing they could use to bridge the massive gap between them, the one thing that gave him a glimpse of what might be, how they could improve, given time.
Or, more likely, he was showing his hand. Revealing too much of himself.
Miss Natalie did not return his affections. Of this he was certain. She appreciated his gifts, of course. What woman wouldn’t appreciate flowers and ribbons?
But that didn’t mean that she cared for him. It didn’t mean that she actually wanted to marry him for his own sake or anything like that. He had to keep his head on straight.
She probably wished that she was marrying any one of the young men that she had gotten onto Emma’s dance card.
She wanted someone who hadn’t already ruined their first, second, and third impressions with her. Someone who would want to live in London year round and would enjoy balls with her. Someone who would entertain her properly instead of devoting all of their time to an estate.
He ought to control himself. It was unfair of him to force his feelings upon her when he knew that she did not feel the same. Miss Natalie had done admirably with warming up to him and behaving in a more thoughtful manner. He could not expect more from her.
No, he ought to keep his feelings to himself. It was only fair.
Miss Natalie tilted her head at him, giving him an odd look again. “Are you all right?” she repeated. “Your face got the funniest look on it just now.”
“I’ve been told it does that frequently, most often when I am attempting to think.”
She laughed. At least he could amuse her with his wit. He enjoyed her laugh. “I suppose that some attempt must be made on your part.”
“I hear there are some men who let their wives do all of their thinking for them. Would you be open to such an arrangement?”
Miss Natalie smiled warmly at him. He could almost trick himself into thinking that it meant she cared for him with something more than friendship. “I suppose that I could do such a thing if required.”
The dance was almost over. Already, John could see men lining up to take the women for the next dance. “Your next partner must surely be excited.”
“Oh, I am sure. As you well know I am being pressed on all sides for gossip. They seem to forget that I have been out of touch recently.”
Ah, of course. It hit John again how much he was unsuited for her. She wanted someone who would let her glide through the glitz and glitter and gossip. That was what she wanted. She would undoubtedly wither away in Mountbank.
But what was he to do? Keep her there, or let her be in London while he was in Mountbank? Keep them so utterly separated? People were sure to talk in that case. But he could not abandon Mountbank to be with her in London all the time.
Perhaps he would simply have to settle for the truth of always failing her.
The dance was ending. They took their places back across from one another and bowed. Or, rather, he bowed and Miss Natalie curtsied, inclining her head.
“I shall expect another dance at some point,” Miss Natalie informed him. “You are my fiancé, I should hope for a little blatant favoritism on your part.”
“You can count on my lack of decorum, then,” he assured her, bowing once more.
He stood to the side and swept his eyes over the ballroom. There were, for once, enough men so that he did not have to ask a lady sitting down to dance. There were one or two who were sitting such as Miss Louisa but judging by their smiles and avid conversations, they seemed to prefer it.
That suited John just fine. He could observe Miss Natalie from the side of the room that way, watch her twirl about the dance floor enchanting everyone.
Emma was out there as well. She looked like she was having the time of her life. Whether she was in love with him or not, John had to gift Miss Natalie with something as a proper thank you. Emma wouldn’t sit down the whole night now. He had never seen his sister look so happy.
He would have to obtain a copy of her dance card at some point, however. As a brother he had to know with whom she was dancing so that he might visit the suitors and see if they were fit for his sister. Only the best would do for Emma.
But, oddly, he trusted Miss Natalie. She was well aware of the gossip on everyone in London. She had learned her lesson with Mr. Cleary. She would not, he was sure, let Emma dance with someone who was not suitable for her.
How unusual that he should go from barely standing the girl to being in love with her and trusting her in so short of a time. It felt extraordinary to him.
It also made him feel like a fool.
Well,
he had been a fool in other things, had he not? Fleeing to the Continent, allowing his reputation to be damaged, abandoning his family and his duties…this was merely the latest in a long line of mistakes.
And if nothing else, this was a good thing for Miss Natalie. To have her husband be in love with her, it was a thing many ladies dreamed of but few obtained. He would be faithful to her out of joy, not out of duty.
He would do what he could to make her happy. Perhaps he could arrange things so that she could be in London for part of the time? Even if he could not be?
He could possibly even open Mountbank to balls. It would not be easy given the location but surely something could be done. Something to open or close the season so that people had more of an excuse to come.
He was a man who went all in or nothing, he knew that. When he was angry, he was wholly angry. He had a hard time letting go of what had upset him.
It was the same with love, and with what brought him joy. He loved completely, and now that he was aware that he had fallen in love with Miss Natalie he feared he would never fall out of it.
How could he have been so blind as to what he wanted? How could he have not seen this happening? The long walks together. The way she had grown good at listening. The way she loved his stories. The way she came in to read to him to ease his stress.
Of course he was falling in love with her. A witty, beautiful girl, one that he had been entranced by from the moment he had seen her. And now she was a decent girl as well, someone who cared about him. It was only a matter of time.
Well, no matter how it had happened. No matter that he had made himself a fool. Other men had made themselves fools for love and in much more public and embarrassing ways than this. At least he had never gotten into a duel over her.
He would respect Miss Natalie’s feelings. He would respect that she did not love him and keep it all close to his chest.
If only he was not bound by his father. Why, then he could have her release them both from this engagement. He would take the blame of course. He was sure he could think up some excuse. A dalliance while he was on the Continent or something.
But if he were to arrange such a thing the scandal would infuriate Father. It would ruin all of them.
He couldn’t do that to his father, not after all of this time. Not now that they were slowly working towards a reconciliation. He had yet to truly apologize and so did Father but at least they were fighting less.
Miss Natalie had something to do with that, he suspected. She could persuade his father like nobody else and something about her energetic and witty nature drew his father to her. It relaxed him, made him jovial.
For that, if nothing else, John should love her.
Father was alive however and that meant he could not allow Miss Natalie to break off the engagement. She was trapped. He would simply have to do his part to make her as happy as possible through what means he had and hope that it would be enough. Enough to make up for the fact that she was stuck with someone with whom she was not in love.
But oh, as he watched her dancing it felt like his heart was no longer in his chest. It felt like it was out there with her. That it had somehow transplanted itself and was now lodged in her chest instead of his.
It felt awful. Why did people strive for this? Why did people seek to fall in love when it felt like losing a part of yourself? When it felt like abandonment out in a winter’s chill?
John tried to shake himself out of such thoughts. He was a gentleman, not a simpering poet. He would handle this the way that he handled everything else. He would remain in control of himself and let common sense carry the day.
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.