Heart of a Marquess: Regency Romance (Gentlemen and Brides)

by Joyce Alec

  Life seemed to be going very well for Miss Williams, and Anthony wondered what had made her so upset. She was certainly a most unusual young lady, for he had never before met one that liked to take early walks in the morning. Most young women of his acquaintance did not rise before midday. Miss Williams certainly was a pretty little thing; her blue eyes and long blonde hair had not escaped his notice. She seemed very sure of herself, instantly assuming he was a servant in the master's household. He was sure she would return for another morning stroll, and he intended to use her to find out what his guests truly thought of him, mostly for his own amusement. Miss Williams would soon discover his true identity, and that brought a smile to his face. He could not fault her for assuming him to be a servant, given his state of dress, but he was sure she was simply another shallow, grasping, simpering miss, and it would be a pleasure to put her in her place. Smiling to himself, Anthony returned to his accounts, enjoying the peace and quiet.

  Just as he had found the place where he had left off, the door opened, and his mother sailed in, a smile on her face. Groaning, Anthony got to his feet, certain that his mother was about to ask him something, and equally certain that he would turn down her request.

  “Good morning, my dear!”

  “Good morning, Mother. I trust you slept well?”

  “Indeed. Now, Anthony, you did not return to the guests last evening, as you had said you would –”

  “I did not say I would, Mother,” Anthony interrupted, sitting at his desk once more. “I merely said I might, should I complete my business for the day.” Annoyance crossed his mother’s face, but Anthony did not care. “I told you I would not take part in your house party; I would welcome the guests, but otherwise, I would be engaged with estate business.”

  His mother huffed, plopping into a chair. “Anthony, why must you be so disagreeable? Many of our guests would greatly enjoy seeing you. There are many beautiful – and eligible – young women, who would relish the opportunity to spend some time with you!”

  Anthony sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. So this was his mother’s game. “Mother, I am not interested in matrimony and, even if I were, I would not get my suggestions from you. I am perfectly capable of finding my own bride, should I decide to pursue such a thing.”

  Another sigh met his ears. Anthony couldn’t stand the idea of his mother moaning at him for any length of time; it truly was becoming very wearisome.

  "Mother, why do you not organize a ball to mark the end of the house party?" He saw his mother sit up a little straighter, her interest piqued. "If you promise not to intrude on my privacy for the remainder of the week, I shall attend your ball and visit each of your guests individually. Is that to your satisfaction?”

  Mollified, his mother rose, a small smile spreading across her face. “Thank you, Anthony, I am sure our guests will appreciate your presence.”

  “And you do love holding a ball, don’t you, Mother?”

  Wagging her finger at him and muttering something about not being disrespectful to your mother, Lady Bessington exited the study, giving Anthony the peace he long desired.

  Eliza grew more exhausted as the evening wore on. Lord Penn had been seated next to her at dinner, much to his delight and her distress. At one moment, she had felt his hand on her thigh and had frozen in shock. He had removed it soon after, but the threat was clear. Shaken to her core, Eliza had struggled through the remainder of the meal, grateful to leave the gentlemen to their sherry and cigars.

  “Eliza, are you enjoying your time here?” Her sister Sophie sat down beside her, her eyes sparkling. “Isn’t Lady Bessington simply wonderful?”

  Eliza nodded, noticing the men entering the drawing room. They had not spent long at the table, she mused. Perhaps they desired the ladies’ company. Turning to Sophie, she was surprised to see her eyes on Lord Stockton, following him around the room as he walked towards the pianoforte to assist Lady Elsie with the turning of the pages. How odd.

  “And you, are you enjoying yourself, Sophie, dear?”

  Startled, Sophie jumped and blushed, a guilty look on her face. “Very much! I have been told that we are to have a picnic the day after tomorrow. Is that not exciting?”

  “Indeed,” Eliza replied, studying her sister carefully.

  “Oh, I think Mama is calling me,” Sophie said, patting Eliza’s hand. “Please excuse me.”

  Eliza, left alone with her own thoughts, considered her sister's behavior. She was sure that Sophie had been watching John, her own Lord Stockton, which seemed highly unusual.

  To her own astonishment, she discovered that she did not feel in the least bit jealous. Perhaps it was because she was so sure of John's attachment to her that she felt no concern over Sophie's interest. Smiling to herself, she gave herself a mental shake. Of course that was the reason. Turning her attention to Lady Elsie's attempt at a sonata, Eliza allowed her gaze to linger on Lord Stockton. He was dressed in his wonderful evening attire, but she felt no excitement over his appearance, instead wondering what he would look like as a gardener.

  5

  “Good morning, Phillip.”

  Anthony jumped, startled to hear another voice in the morning's quiet. He had found himself waiting at the entrance to the woods, should Miss Williams choose to take another quiet stroll. Apparently, she had.

  “Good morning, my lady. I take it you need my assistance this morning.”

  Eliza smiled a little, acknowledging his superior knowledge of the woods. “Indeed, Phillip, I believe I do. And please, call me Miss Williams.”

  Without another word, she walked past him and into the woods, leaving Anthony in her wake. Forgetting about his servant façade for a moment, Anthony caught up with her almost immediately, seeing her surprise as he walked beside her. Cursing his negligence, he dropped a couple of steps behind her, as any servant would.

  Eliza walked in silence for a long time, forgetting all about Phillip’s presence. A lump clogged her throat as the thought about her dilemma. On top of that, there was Lord Stockton and her sister. Her emotions rolled within her, tears threatening. It was as though the woods allowed her to be free in her feelings, unhindered in her expression of them. She was trapped in a cage, with Lord Penn her jailor. Her tears flowed freely now and she made no attempt to wipe them away.

  Anthony grew concerned. This was now the second morning where this unwelcome guest had grown sorrowful in his presence. Almost unwillingly, he spoke to her gently.

  “Is something the matter, Miss Williams?”

  Stopping in her tracks, Eliza spun around to face him, hastily wiping her face. “Oh, I had quite forgotten you were there,” she replied, her attempts at cheerfulness falling vastly short. “I am quite well, just…troubled.”

  Anthony tried his best not to be rattled, for normally he was not easily forgotten. Yet here, as a servant, it was as though he was invisible. "Should you like to speak of it?"

  Cursing himself, he wondered why he had asked such a thing. It was probably some nonsense over a broken heart or some small slight by another lady of the ton.

  Eliza considered the gardener's words. She had no one else to tell, and perhaps, simply speaking about it would relieve some of her anxiety. "I suppose I may as well, I am only forbidden to speak of it to anyone of consequence," her features clouded as she realized her poorly chosen words. "That is, I mean to say–"

  Anthony, thoroughly intrigued by her words, interrupted her, ignoring her attempts to correct herself. “Forbidden?”

  “Yes,” she replied, tears filling her eyes once more. “It is a long story, so I shall start at the beginning.”

  She began to walk again, talking quickly, but walking slowly. Anthony felt his anger rise, the more she spoke. He knew little about Lord Penn, but to treat a lady in such a despicable manner was unacceptable.

  “So, you see, Philip, I am quite at a loss,” Eliza finished, sobs beginning to interrupt her words. “If I give him the necklace, it will be the end
of my mother. It is one of her most prized possessions but, if I do not, then …”

  “Then your father will have his gambling debts exposed, called in, and you shall all be quite ruined,” Anthony finished, ensuring he had a clear picture.

  “Indeed.” They walked in silence for a few moments, Eliza’s sobs punctuating the silence.

  Anthony’s brow creased as he thought. “Why should you not tell Lord Stockton?”

  “How do you know of Lord Stockton?” came the quick response, Eliza studying him curiously.

  “Ah, well, news travels quickly below the stairs,” Anthony mumbled, fumbling for an answer. “Although no formal announcement has been made yet, I hear.” Relieved that she seemed satisfied with his answer, Anthony let out a breath.

  "If I tell anyone of this matter, Lord Penn will ruin me entirely, ensuring I cannot show my face within society for the remainder of my days." She stopped for a moment, looking at him in the eye, but Anthony noticed a blush rising to her cheeks. "He put a hand on my leg last evening, under the dinner table."

  There was silence for a moment, Eliza embarrassed by her own words and Anthony struggling against the desire to find Lord Penn and put a bullet through him.

  “I see,” he managed, through gritted teeth, Lord Penn’s threat becoming abundantly clear. The man was strong, whilst Eliza was small and slight; he would have no problem overpowering her should he put his mind to it. Anthony was determined that Lord Penn should never have the opportunity.

  “What of the earl?” he asked quietly, beginning to walk the path once more. “Would he not be able to assist you?”

  Eliza let out a short laugh. "I should not think so. I have barely met the man, except for bumping into him in the hallway. By all accounts, he is a very studious and serious man, caring only for his books and estate business. I doubt he would look favorably on any attempt to engage him in my situation."

  Anthony said nothing, wincing a little at the ring of truth her words held.

  Eliza paused for a moment, exhaustion building. She felt weary, although telling Phillip her dilemma had caused her to feel a little less distressed. “Do you mind if we sit for a short while?”

  Nodding, Anthony took a few steps off the path, leading Eliza to a small clearing that he knew was nearby. “Here,” he gestured to a couple of large stumps, waiting until she sat before sitting down himself.

  “I am grateful to you, for listening to my complaint,” Eliza said softly, surprised at the feeling of friendship developing between them. “I have not been able to speak of it with anyone up till now, and I find that has lessened my burden a little.”

  Anthony smiled the first genuine smile to cross his face since their first meeting. Eliza, seeing it, inhaled a long breath, realizing how handsome the gardener was. His black hair still fell in an untidy heap, and his boots were still dirty, but none of that stopped her unbound attraction to him. Letting out her breath slowly, she looked away, catching a falling leaf in her hand.

  It would have surprised Eliza to know that the ‘gardener’ was having very similar thoughts. The look of pleasure on her face over something as simple as a falling leaf was a punch to his gut. Whilst Lord Penn was a despicable man, the desire to protect Eliza was something deeper than just a general concern.

  “I suppose I should be getting back,” he heard her say softly. Getting to his feet quickly, he held out his hand to her, desiring both to help her up and to feel the touch of her hand.

  Eliza, touched at the gardener’s thoughtfulness, gave him her hand without hesitation. To her surprise, it was soft and warm, with none of the callouses she would have expected from a working man.

  “Thank you,” she stammered, aware that he had not let go of her hand and that she hadn’t pulled it away. They stood close to each other for a moment, Eliza feeling as though her heart was about to come out of her chest. His piercing blue eyes were roving all over her face, stopping at her lips. She licked them self-consciously, unaware of the effect it had on Anthony.

  Without being aware of it, Anthony caressed Eliza’s fingers, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of her hand, aware that her pulse was racing. If he was honest, it matched his own heart, as he found he simply couldn’t break the moment. She was so vulnerable, yet so strong, keeping all her anxieties and troubles to herself in order to protect her family. Her blond hair, tied back once more in a simple braid, tickled his fingers, and he lifted his hand to touch it. He heard Eliza catching her breath as he did so, the desire to kiss her growing stronger and stronger.

  All of a sudden, Eliza took a step back, pulling her hand from Phillip's grip. Whatever had she been thinking? She was nearly betrothed to Lord Stockton and fraternizing with servants was a sure way to put that to an end. Telling herself that her pull to him was simply from his willingness to listen to her troubles, Eliza began walking back towards the path, nearly tripping in her hurry.

  Equally frustrated – but for an entirely different reason – Anthony followed, walking the remainder of the journey back to the estate in silence.

  6

  The following morning, Eliza chose not to meet Phillip for her morning walk. Confused over her feelings towards him, she decided to remain in bed, waiting for the maid to bring her the usual cup of tea.

  However, the knock at the door was not her maid, but her sister. It was highly unusual for her to be awake so early, although Eliza welcomed her in.

  “How do you feel?” Sophie asked, sitting on the end of Eliza’s bed. “Are you quite recovered?”

  Remembering that she had pleaded a headache the previous evening, Eliza nodded. "Much better, I thank you. Did you have a pleasant evening?"

  “Indeed!” Sophie grinned, enthusiastically. “There were some performances at the pianoforte, and Lord Stockton sang a beautiful solo. I am quite sorry that you missed it.”

  “Oh,” Eliza replied faintly. “I did not know that he sang.”

  There was silence for a moment as Eliza digested the knowledge that she perhaps did not know Lord Stockton as well as she thought. “And how is Mama?” she asked, changing the subject entirely.

  "I have barely seen her," replied Sophie, laughing a little. "She is having a marvelous time with Lady Bessington. I have only spoken a few words to her since we arrived."

  Eliza smiled at her sister, glad that her mother was having a lovely time with her friend. “What about you?” she asked. “You are having a good time also?”

  Surprised to see a slight blush on her sister’s face as she nodded yes, Eliza put it to one side as the maid arrived to bring her the usual cup of tea. At Sophie’s request, the maid brought a cup for her, and the sisters enjoyed a few moments of silence as they relished the strong brew.

  “It is most unlike you to be awake before the tea has arrived,” Eliza began, quirking an eyebrow at her sister. “What has got you so excited to be awake at this hour?”

  “The ball!” Sophie cried, the tea pitching dangerously to one side of her cup. “I quite forgot to tell you. Lady Bessington has announced that there is to be a ball at the end of the week and, even better, the earl is to be in attendance.”

  Trying to show some kind of excitement, Eliza felt her stomach lurch. Lord Penn would want the necklace that evening, as he had said in his letter.

  "We have some time to prepare, so Mama has sent a servant back home to collect our best dresses," her sister continued, unaware of Eliza's lack of enthusiasm. "Mama has chosen the blue silk for you, and I am to wear the red ball gown." Putting her tea to one side, she got off Eliza's bed and twirled around the room in excitement.

  "It is said," Sophie began again, throwing herself backward onto Eliza's bed, "that the earl is a most eligible gentleman, although he has never shown any great interest in any particular lady. Mayhap you shall catch his eye." She winked at Eliza, who tried to smile back.

  “You do not wish to catch his eye, Sophie?”

  There was that blush again. "No, I do not think I would care fo
r the earl," Sophie mumbled, almost to herself. "No, there is someone else's eye I would very much like to catch."

  Stopping herself from saying too much, Sophie jumped off the bed, giving Eliza a quick kiss before exiting the room, leaving her sister wondering as to whom it might be.

  “Are you quite well, my dear?”

  John took her hand, pressing a kiss to it as she looked into his eyes. How strange that his touch did not excite her in the same way that the gardener’s had.

  “Of course, John, I am perfectly at ease,” Eliza replied firmly, choosing to focus on the present for the time being. She took his arm. “Should you care for a stroll around the grounds?”

  “Certainly,” John replied, patting her hand. “The rest of the party should be here soon, so we should not stray too far.”

  They walked in silence, the only sound the crunching of the gravel beneath their feet. Why could she think of nothing to say?

  “I missed you last evening,” John began, as they walked around the side of the great house. “It was not the same without the pleasure of your company.”

  “I missed you also,” Eliza lied, hating that the words of untruth slipped so easily from her tongue. “My sister tells me you sang, and that it was a most beautiful rendition.”

  “That is very kind of Sophie,” John replied. Eliza frowned, surprised at John’s use of her sister’s given name. She supposed they would be family soon enough, so perhaps it could be forgiven.

  John suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a small alcove.

  “John,” she gasped. “Whatever are you doing?”

  John's only response was to slam his lips down on hers, crushing her body against him. Stunned with surprise, Eliza struggled to react appropriately, feeling overwhelmed by his ardor. His lips were insistent, as though he was trying to force a reaction from her, but Eliza found no pleasure in his caress. John tightened his grip around her waist, knocking her bonnet back and pulling pins from her carefully arranged hair.