Ladies of Disgrace Box Set

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Ladies of Disgrace Box Set Page 11

by Vicki Hopkins

I don’t, I thought to myself. A man is a man regardless if his trousers are from rags or riches. Nevertheless, I had already decided that if Edward did try anything, his nose would meet my clenched fist.

  “If you would excuse me,” I responded with a gloomy tone, “I need to get ready.” I rose to my feet, avoiding eye contact.

  “Well then, have a safe and enjoyable trip,” she replied formally. Our seething animosity for one another chilled the air. As she retreated and closed the door behind her, I struggled to find an ounce of respect for the woman who had given me birth. We were vastly different from one another, and I amusingly wondered if I, too, had been adopted.

  I pondered the day ahead as I bathed and dressed, attempting not to be late for the lord’s arrival. My thoughts turned toward Reginald, reminding me that my heart remained wrapped in the agony of separation and despair. My yearning to be in his presence had not ceased, and I struggled with the situation that pulled me in the opposite direction.

  After an hour of preparation, both physically and mentally, I descended the stairs to grab a quick bite to eat before Edward arrived. As I entered the dining room, to my surprise he sat at the table with my parents, drinking coffee and chatting. I halted at the threshold, cursing inwardly that my companion had already arrived. He lifted his head, and when he saw me, he rose to his feet.

  “Good morning,” he greeted with a sly smile.

  “You’re early,” I replied, giving him no other comment in return. After I had retrieved a small portion of food, having lost my appetite, I sat down at the table across from him. My overt avoidance triggered my father to brandish me a disappointed look. He returned his attention to Edward.

  “What horse are you betting on?”

  “Well, I’ve missed the first few days,” he complained. “It’s the Chesterfield Cup today. I’ve had my eye on Irongrey, so I’ve placed a hefty bid on him to win.”

  “I lost a tidy sum at the Ascot,” Father bemoaned. “If I give you a hundred pounds, will you put it on your favorite?”

  “Absolutely,” Edward replied. “To win?”

  “Yes, to win.”

  Father handed him the money, and Edward slipped it into his pocket. It annoyed me how the two bantered between one another like old friends. Lord Ridley had weaseled his way into my family quickly, deepening relationships to his advantage.

  The clock on the fireplace mantel chimed the nine o’clock hour. I pushed my plate away when I realized that my appetite had vanished after a few bites.

  “We should be going,” he said. He glanced at me and smiled warmly. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, let me get my hat and purse.” Before I could push back my chair and rise, he had briskly moved behind me to help.

  “Have a good day,” my father said. He gave us both an approving look.

  “When shall you be home?” My mother posed a surprising question.

  “I should have your daughter back no later than ten o’clock this evening.”

  The entire day stretched before me like an eternity in purgatory. I ran upstairs to retrieve my things and returned a few minutes later to Edward waiting in the foyer.

  “You look charming,” he replied. “Nice bonnet.”

  “You look rather well-groomed yourself,” I replied, surprised at the Panama sun hat he had donned. “No top hat?”

  “Absolutely not at the Goodwood. Must keep up the fashion of Edward VII. He’s the standard.”

  He flashed a toothy grin, wielding his charm, causing me to roll my eyes. Apparently, the man had planned to smother me today with his honey sweetness to gain my affection. My singular goal had been to resist him at all cost, but as we climbed into his car, I felt my resolve falter. The day would be long and challenging, of that I was sure.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Winners and Losers

  Our two-hour drive proved tedious, to say the least. The chauffeur ignored us in the back seat. Naturally, I tried my best to keep conversation during the journey. Edward’s personality dominated most topics, proving himself as snobbish and narrow-minded as I had earlier judged. Topics centered on his interests in life, ignoring my likes or dislikes. I felt like a hood ornament rather than a passenger in the car.

  We pulled up to the estate and exited. A moment later, the driver drove off to park the vehicle somewhere on the vast landscape. Having never been to this particular event, my eyes scanned the scenery of rolling green hills. The air smelled of freshly cut grass sparkling in a brilliant green hue from the sun shining on each blade.

  As we approached the stands, they already brimmed with a huge crowd of men, women, jockeys, and horses. The fashions were less formal than at the Ascot. Nevertheless, the aristocratic members of society were recognizable by the chic styles in which they wore. I hadn’t paid that much attention to my own but realized that I looked just as good as any other lady in attendance.

  The atmosphere amongst the crowd bubbled with excitement. As I glanced at the faces of those nearby, not one of them frowned. They all appeared extremely cheerful and relaxed.

  “I usually come for the entire four-day event and stay at the manor house,” Edward noted. “Business held me back this year.”

  “Well, you are here now,” I responded. “Are you a good judge of horses?” He smirked in arrogance as if my question were a foolish one to ask.

  “Absolutely,” he boasted. “Every good Englishman knows their horses.”

  The flamboyant statement did not surprise me. On the way here, he talked about his dream of owning a racehorse and traveling around England from event to event. As we wandered through the crowd, I could still hear his voice ringing in my ears about all his passionate outdoor pursuits that included golfing, hunting, and even motorcar racing. I concluded that his numerous leisurely activities took precedence over anything else in life. If he meant to impress me with his escapades, I frankly didn’t care.

  We walked amongst the crowd. Edward obtained a list of the upcoming races, which reminded me of my father’s money still in his pocket. Rather than accuse him of forgetting about it on purpose, I gave him a gentle reminder. I inched over and cocked my head to see the race schedule.

  “What horse will you be betting on for my father?” I asked nonchalantly.

  “Bloody hell,” he cursed. “I nearly forgot about it.” He shoved his hand into his pocket and retrieved the hundred pounds. “I’ll place it on Irongrey to win.”

  Mission accomplished; I smirked with satisfaction.

  “Stay here, and I’ll go place the wager.”

  “Here? Just stand here in the same spot while you’re gone for who knows how long?” I protested. His suggestion gave no account for my well-being.

  “Well then, why I don’t walk you over to the refreshments. You can grab a table and wait there while I take care of it.”

  He grasped my hand and dragged me through the crowd rather crudely. An area had been set aside with tables, each having a large umbrella overhead for shade. We found an empty one, and he sat me down.

  “Order whatever you like,” he said.

  After the quip, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, abandoning me. People mingled about, talking to one another, appearing carefree and happy. I, on the other hand, frowned as the misery of my situation became painfully evident. While my eyes scanned the attendees, they fell upon a couple, sipping drinks at a table a few yards away. I squinted my eyes in an attempt to focus. To my surprise, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Spencer from France.

  Unable to stay seated any longer, I stood to my feet and walked directly toward their table with an eager spring in my step.

  “Catherine!” I called her name a few feet away, and she turned her head in the direction of my voice.

  “Isabella? Is that you?” She rose to her feet as did her husband. Their warm smiles flooded my heart with joy.

  “Oh, it is so good to see you,” I blubbered. My arms wrapped around her tightly, giving Catherine a hug.

  “My goodness,” she replie
d. “How well you look.” She turned toward Mr. Spencer. “Doesn’t she look beautiful?”

  “Indeed,” he grinned.

  “What are you doing here?” I inquired excitedly.

  “For the races, of course. The Glorious is one of our favorites,” she replied. “We do occasionally return to England on holiday, you know, to visit Reginald.”

  “Are you staying with him?” The thought of Reginald being nearby caused my eyes to glance through the crowd.

  “Yes, but he’s not here,” she replied.

  “Oh.” My voice dropped in a disappointed tone.

  “You’re not alone here, are you?” Catherine asked with a worried look on her face.

  “No, I’m not. I do have an escort,” I replied, not wishing to elaborate. “He’s placing a wager for my father.”

  “Well, why don’t you sit down and join us?” Mr. Spencer offered. It will probably take him a while. He pulled out a chair for me, which I readily accepted. It felt wonderful to be in their presence, reminding me how much I missed good company. My life had become an isolated and orchestrated affair, denying me the simple pleasures of pleasant companionship.

  “How long will you be in England?” My curiosity might have been somewhat prying, but I hoped to see them more than once.

  “We leave in a few days,” Mr. Spencer replied. “We’ve been here almost two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” I replied. It bothered me that Reginald hadn’t told me of their arrival. Of course, he had no reason to let me know.

  “Do you think that you’ll be moving back to England?” I asked. “Reginald spoke of his concern that you should return.”

  Catherine and her husband exchanged glances. “Yes, he continues to pressure us to do so, and we have seriously thought about returning.” Her smile faded. “We do have concerns regarding the political situation in nearby countries.”

  “It would be wonderful if you could,” I enthusiastically added. “I count you both as dear friends.”

  “How very kind,” Catherine replied.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Reginald had mentioned our short, budding romance. Perhaps I should have left it as an unapproachable subject, but I could not.

  “Your son was most kind in escorting me back home when I left. Did he tell you that we met on the train?”

  Mr. Spencer cleared his throat. “Yes, he mentioned it. He also stated that he found you to be a delightful young lady.”

  “When he told me that his wife had passed away, my heart ached for him. Such tragedy not only for him but for their child.” The thought still brought grief to my heart as I broached the subject.

  Catherine glanced at her husband again as if they both needed to formulate a proper response. Finally she spoke.

  “Her passing was a great loss to everyone and a shock.”

  They both appeared to fall into a digestive silence for a few minutes, which gave me concern. A part of me wanted to tell them of my love for Reginald, but I feared the consequences and kept silent.

  “I respect your son very much,” I finally confessed. “He is a kind and attentive man.”

  “He speaks affectionately of you,” Catherine answered. Her eyes sparkled as if she approved of our mutual regard for one another.

  At that moment, I thought perhaps the door had opened to express my true feelings. The words, on the tip of my tongue, were ready to declare. However, the moment quickly vanished with the return of Edward.

  “There you are.” He scowled at me. “I’ve been looking for you for ten minutes. You should have stayed at the table where I left you.”

  Embarrassed that he scolded me in front of my friends, I felt my cheeks blush. “Edward, these are dear friends of mine.” My eyes narrowed at him to behave. “Mrs. and Mrs. Spencer, this is Lord Ridley, my escort.”

  Escort. It would be the only term I would give the man. I would not call him my beau or my future fiancé or whatever other title of importance he wanted me to give.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Mr. Spencer replied. He reached out and shook Edward’s hand.

  “Pleasure,” Catherine said. She glanced at me with empathy in her eyes. “Isabella is quite right. We are old friends and just happened to bump into each other. Forgive us for pulling her away.”

  If anyone should apologize, it should have been Edward for his snippy arrival. As I looked into his eyes, the realization of who the couple happened to be apparently dawned on him at that moment. His countenance turned dark.

  “Are you ready?” he said, looking at me with a displeased glare. “The race is about to start, and I’d like to get a good view.”

  I turned toward the Spencers and smiled graciously. “Seeing you today has been the highlight of my existence.” Unable to walk away, I stepped forward and hugged Catherine again. “I love you like a mother,” I whispered in her ear.

  “And I you like a daughter,” she replied in secret. “Don’t despair, my dearest. All will turn out as it should.”

  Her words brought comfort to my heart even though I wondered what she meant by them. We released each other, and I glanced at Mr. Spencer.

  “Good-bye.”

  “Isabella.” He nodded. “Do take care of yourself.” His fatherly tone revealed concern in his voice.

  “I will.”

  Edward, naturally impatient, grabbed my hand and tugged me away from their presence.

  “The race is about to start,” he reiterated.

  After finding a viewing spot that suited him, he quickly engrossed himself in the competition. The pounding hooves of the horses passed by, making their way around the course. Perhaps I should have shown more interest, but I felt nothing. Instead, my eyes glanced through the crowd, attempting to see the Spencers, but they were nowhere in sight. I should have told Catherine, I inwardly scolded myself for the missed opportunity. If I had confessed my love for her son, maybe she would have talked some sense into Reginald to keep pursuing me regardless of my father’s objections.

  Edward’s yelling drew my attention back to the race. The crowd turned into the usual frenzy of excitement as the horses approached the finish line.

  “Come on,” he bellowed.

  Since I didn’t even know what number Irongrey wore, I couldn’t tell if he was ahead or behind. As they crossed into victory or loss, Edward appeared ecstatic over the results.

  “What a race,” he shouted. “Did you see that?”

  Of course, I didn’t know what I saw but nodded my head in agreement. “He won, I take it.”

  “Yes, he won.”

  He looked at me and smirked. Before I could protest, he had pulled me into his arms and kissed me. My eyes grew wide rather than shutting them at the onslaught. Over his shoulder, I caught Mr. and Mrs. Spencer watching the two of us. Not wanting them to tell Reginald the scene, I swiftly pushed away Edward.

  “Do you always kiss a woman without asking first?”

  “Why shouldn’t I kiss my prize?” he dryly said. “You think the Spencers will go back and tell your Reginald we’re in love? Is that what you’re worried about?”

  His sharp response irked me. As if he wanted them to see his next move, his hand brushed across my cheek in a possessive manner.

  “You might as well forget it, Isabella. The man cannot and will not cross your father. He has too much to lose.” He slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. “Besides, I have something you want, don’t I?”

  My daughter. Yes, he did have something that I desperately wanted, for which I would probably end up selling my soul.

  “Now, why don’t we try that again,” he seductively slurred, “before I collect your father’s winnings and mine.”

  Edward pulled me toward him and lowered his lips upon mine. This time he kissed me without the grand fervency of the last. Instead, he wielded his manly charms, attempting to woo me as a female. My mind screamed “resist him” the entire time. Instead, my body had something else to say about the matter. Unable to control my w
omanly needs, I pulled away in frustration.

  “You’ve made your point,” I said, warily looking at him. By the arrogant look in his eye, he knew that he had just touched a weakness—my flesh.

  “Do you want to come with me?”

  My eyes darted around, but the Spencers had disappeared again into the crowd. “All right,” I acquiesced. “I’m sure my father will be thrilled with the win.”

  “Yes, there are winners and losers in all aspects of life,” he sardonically replied.

  His reference had nothing to do with horses and everything to do with Reginald.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Merry-Go-Round

  The weeks passed one by one with no word from Reginald. Unable to keep quiet, I wrote him a letter, posting it to his office. In bold letters I penned the word “confidential” on the envelope, hoping it would be delivered but remain unopened. The words were short and to the point. “I need to see you on a matter of urgent business.” Whether he refused to answer, or the office staff had confiscated the letter, I had no idea. His silence left me with little choice than to continue Edward’s attempt to court me in the hopes of marriage.

  My parents had no qualms about inviting him to dine with us as often as possible. On the other evenings, he took me to dinner to lavish restaurants, the opera, and theater shows. The seasonal horse racing continued through September and October, and I accompanied him as his female companion. During the outings, I met more of his social circle but found no new friendships among the women or men.

  When Reginald failed to answer, I found the grief of our failing relationship difficult to handle. In spite of his silence, my love for him remained steady. Irrationally I continued to hope something would change.

  As far as Edward was concerned, my tolerance for him grew at the same time. At least he kept me occupied and busy. Otherwise, I would have continued to pine away over Reginald. The only thing that kept me following the snake down the path had been the knowledge regarding my daughter’s whereabouts.

  My mother and father often asked if he had proposed yet, but Edward had not. I had no doubt, nevertheless, that he believed I belonged to him already. His confessions of love were heartfelt and his behavior gentlemanly. Though his kisses passionately enticed my female hormones, he kept his distance and did not pressure me for sexual favors.

 

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