A Courtship to Remember: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  His brow puckered as he tried to remember the event. There had been so many celebrations in his past that it was quite challenging to remember a specific one. Anthony thought back, a sudden memory coming to mind. A young girl with piercing amber-coloured eyes.

  "It is quite dark outside so I cannot see you well enough to deduce whether or not I have seen you, but I am interested to know the colour of your eyes."

  “Brown, my lord.”

  “Just brown?”

  “Well, that is what I see in the mirror when I look.”

  “What kind of brown?”

  “I suppose that they would be a light brown. But deep in colour, if that makes any sense at all to you.”

  “Would you go as far as to say that your eyes are amber in colour?”

  She thought about it for a moment. This woman was a novelty, indeed. Most women were quick to describe every physical feature on their bodies, but this one has to think about the colour of her eyes.

  "Amber appears to be an apt colour to describe my eyes. Why, my lord?"

  “Oh, nothing.”

  He did not wish to reveal his reasons for finding out her eye colour. It was the same woman, the one who had caught his eye for just a few seconds. Oddly enough, he did not see her face clearly, but he would never forget those eyes. They were quiet for a time, both staring out into the darkness, looking over London. He could sense that she was wary of him, which was a shame as she had been quite outspoken not so long ago. He decided to break the silence, wanting to put her at ease.

  “I would be grateful if you would treat me as though you do not know who I am. As far as you are concerned, I am just a stranger enjoying the night air who you happened to start talking to. Just for once, I would like to forget that I am the Baron of Bedford.”

  She looked at him sideways. “That is an odd request, my lord.”

  "Odd, but necessary. I wish to continue speaking with you, but I fear that you are not willing to do so. The only thing separating us is my title."

  “And the small thing of our gender.”

  He frowned at first and then smiled, belatedly realising that it was her way of bringing lightness to the conversation.

  “Shall I heighten my voice to make you feel more comfortable?”

  “Oh no, my lord. That would be sure to frighten me. A high voice coming from a man such as yourself? Even little children would be terrified.”

  He laughed. “You have a sense of humour, a refreshing find in these times that we live in. It seems that women are far more pre-occupied with ensnaring a man than being herself.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly, my lord. But I find men to be the same. Why pretend and present a false version of yourself when it is apparent to all that once marriage is settled your true person shall come out? This makes for many unhappy marriages.”

  “For one so young, you seem wise beyond your years.”

  “It comes from observing people. When you do not regularly engage in conversations around you, you notice many things.”

  “So you spy on people?”

  She laughed. “I would not call it spying, but observing.”

  “Ha, I see.”

  They fell into silence again. However, this time it was a comfortable silence, which he much preferred.

  “My lord?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Are the rumours true? One can never tell with gossip.”

  He sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “That is terrible, I am so sorry.”

  “So am I.”

  Anthony found that he wanted to tell the young woman about Diana, to get it off his chest.

  “Diana has always fascinated me. From the moment I saw her I knew that I had to have her.”

  “Did she feel the same?”

  Did she? Diana was never one to talk about feelings, except when she was trying to get her way. “I do not recall her explaining to me how she felt. I suppose that I took it all for granted, believing that she loved me too.”

  He felt a tentative hand touch his arm before it was snatched back again. She was trying to comfort him. How strange. She did not know him. Why would she do such a thing?

  “Will you try again? Perhaps she has cold feet.”

  “No, I do not think so. You see, Diana is a jealous woman, one who changes her emotions constantly throughout the day. You never know which Diana you will get, but I was hopelessly fascinated by it all.”

  “She was exciting.”

  “Yes, extremely so. She possessed a volatile nature, one that could be frightening for those that are unaccustomed to her moods. And she could never commit. Flighty and unexpected.”

  “I gather that she is a woman who lives by her own whims?”

  “You are correct. But do you know what the odd thing is? That is what I love about her. I cannot pin her down, and I find that challenging. It fascinates me to no end, makes me want to wake up in the morning. I must admit that at times I have grown tired of her ways, but my love for her will always have me returning to her.”

  He sounded pathetic, as though he lived for Diana. Was this what Diana wanted, for him to be obsessed?

  “Would you call your love a patient type?”

  "I most certainly would. For six years I courted her, waiting for the right opportunity to propose to her. Never in my life did I think that she would reject me, and in such a humiliating and public way."

  Anthony had foolishly believed that Diana had felt the same way about him as he had felt about her. He remembered the surety in his heart, how he had been convinced by his own treacherous heart to love her to distraction, believing her worth it.

  “Do not be remorseful of your love, my lord. You loved without holding a part of yourself back. I would be blessed to find even a quarter of that love in my future husband.”

  “Ah yes, your future husband. Do tell me about him.”

  It would help him take his mind off the woman who he found that he desperately wanted back.

  “To tell the truth, I did not expect to be here, finding a husband along with the other young women in attendance.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She sighed. “My father gave me an ultimatum. Choose my own husband or he will. I have a younger sister who is on the brink of marrying her sweetheart. But that has been put on hold until I can produce a husband.”

  “And have you managed to narrow down your choices yet?”

  “Heavens no. Each man I have come across has been dull and unremarkable. I cannot bring myself to be interested in such a man.”

  “It is early days yet. How long do you expect to be in London for?”

  “As long as it takes. I cannot return home without trying.”

  Anthony could never imagine being forced to marry someone he had no interest in. He pretty much could do as he pleased without fear.

  “We are a fine pair, do you know that?”

  “In what capacity, my lord?”

  "Well, I love someone, but she has rejected me and run away. You love no one, but you must marry or risk a forced marriage."

  She smiled wryly. “I see what you mean. It is a sorry state of affairs.”

  They lapsed into a brief silence once more, the tranquillity of the night only disturbed by the cacophony of noise coming from the ballroom.

  “I would not have attended this season if not for my friend, Felton. Not so long ago he barged into my room and rescued me from my own self-pity. He insisted that if I just came here, I would find a woman who would make me forget all about Diana.”

  “And has it been working?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No, but I suppose it is too early to tell.”

  “It is not easy to get over your first love, my lord.”

  Had she been in love before? Intrigued, he questioned her, interested in the answer that she would give. It did not take her long to answer his question, but he
was surprised by her response.

  “Yes, my lord, my music. That has always been my first and great love. I play the pianoforte, just as my mother did before me. That is why it makes being here quite challenging.”

  “If you were given a choice, would you marry?”

  The answer came swiftly and without hesitation. "No, I would not. I would pursue a career in music, become my own independent woman."

  Anthony had never heard of a woman not wishing to get married. As he continued to speak to her, the wheels in his head started to turn.

  Chapter 6

  “It is quite a way from up here. Has anyone ever fallen?” Elizabeth peered down, trying to gauge the distance from the balcony.

  “Why? Do you wish to plummet to your death? I would not advise it.”

  She laughed. “Oh, dear me. I am not so desperate as to wish to kill myself.”

  “That is just as well, as I would never have let you do such a thing.”

  He sounded so serious that she looked at him, his face partially in the shadows.

  "My lord, my life may not be as I wish it to be at this moment, but I assure you that death is far from my mind. In fact, it has never entered my mind. I love life, perhaps not my life right now, but I cannot throw away nearly twenty years – my parents, my sister, my dear servants, and my music – because of a dreary season. You never know, things may change for me. My father may take back his condition and allow me to pursue my music career, or perhaps I may find a husband who will support my passion for music. Life is unpredictable, my lord. Look, I have met you, and that is something I never once believed would be possible."

  “Not possible?” he asked. “Why in heaven's not?”

  “Is it not obvious? We are not from the same circle of people, let alone the fact that you are a baron. I am a family of landed gentry, and while there is nothing wrong with that, your kind are not exactly clamouring to befriend us.”

  “I was not aware that I was a 'kind'. I am merely a person at the end of the day. A man who, just like any other, has been rejected and humiliated by the object of his affection. Whether titled or not, we all share the same emotions.”

  He was right, but he was also wrong.

  “You speak of emotions, I speak of class. My family does not carry a title, and while we are afforded certain perks, shall I say? It does not remove the fact that there is a divide.”

  “I suppose that you are right. But I have never been one to lord my title over anyone. Well, not that I remember, but I should not say never – it does not leave room for any error.”

  Elizabeth could tell that the baron was an honest man and was genuinely sorry for the ordeal that he had to experience. That woman did not know what she had done.

  “My lord, if there was an opportunity to reunite with Miss Lambert, would you do so?”

  He took a while to answer her question. Leaning on the balcony wall overlooking the lawn below, he explained his feelings to her.

  “I cannot help but love her, for I have loved her for so long. So, to answer your question, yes. If I were given the opportunity to reunite with Diana, I would take it. As it is, I am hoping to find a way to be with her. Felton may believe that I am earnestly looking for a sweet wife, or that I am sure to find one, but my heart firmly belongs to Diana. For all her faults, I still love her. It is pathetic, I know.”

  How would it be to have a man love her in this manner? One who was willing to swallow his pride and pursue his sweetheart?

  "I commend you, my lord. Not many men would think as you do. Love is not for the fickle-hearted."

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I have come to realise that much. However, I cannot deny that my life would be far less complicated if I did not love her.”

  “The heart does not make sense at times, but it eventually leads us in the right direction. Or at least that is what Mrs Potts has told me.”

  “Mrs Potts?”

  “Our housekeeper and confidante. She is always ready with a listening ear and advice. Mrs Potts has seen me through many difficult situations.”

  More so with Cecilia than with anyone else. Her sister had the ability to anger her like no other, but Mrs Potts would always remind her that she had to lead by example and calm her down. Elizabeth loved her sister and always found herself making allowances for her. But her growing selfish ways and terrible attitude were not helping anyone. There were times when she wished to just shake her sister until all her scales fell away to reveal the sweet person that she knew was hidden beneath layers and layers of wrongful thinking. But that would not solve a thing.

  “Your Mrs Potts reminds me of my own housekeeper, Mrs Hubbard. She is a second mother figure to me. When my mother passed away some years ago, she took it upon herself to step into her shoes, although I was past the age of twenty at the time. Clayton, my steward, has been another positive influence in my life. They have both been in my life for quite some time, and know me well enough.” He laughed. “Sometimes too well.”

  "It never ceases to amaze me that they can fulfil their duties and still give so much of themselves. Many have their own families, but that does not stop them from treating us as an extension of that family."

  “I am ashamed to admit that I have never looked at it in that way. They have simply always been there when I needed them, I hardly know anything about their families.”

  Wasn’t that the way with his kind? Although he did not seem self-entitled or selfish, there was always something bred within them that separated them from those beneath them. Being a family of landed gentry was nothing to sneer at. In fact, her father was likely wealthier than many titled families. However, there would always be a social divide. Which was why so many young women were hopeful of marriages to men above their social station. Ten women would fight over a duke, while a simple young man with much to give stands off to the side. Not that she was concerned either way, but it was interesting to observe.

  “You can ask them once you return home. I am sure that they will be pleasantly surprised.”

  “Speaking of surprises, I was near compromised by an overeager woman just before I came to the balcony. The woman cornered me with a plan in her head, but I am not one to fall for such things.”

  Elizabeth almost laughed, and thought to herself, so speaks the very man who is pining away for a woman who humiliated him in front of his friends and family. I suppose that when you are in love, you cannot fully comprehend the faults of others. While he speaks of her flaws, he does not see the full extent of her behaviour. Love truly is blind.

  “I was insulted just before I came here, but perhaps I deserved it to some degree,” she said.

  “Why would you deserve an insult? It sounds as though you are absolving the perpetrator.”

  “No, but perhaps I was on the way to being... what is that expression again? Oh, yes – ape drunk.”

  He burst out laughing. “Ape drunk? Where did a gentlewoman such as yourself learn such a term? Just how much were you drinking?”

  Feeling slightly miffed by his bold laugh, she pursed her lips, regarding him with what she hoped was a stern stare. When he picked up on her reluctance to answer him, his laughter died down. “I was not laughing at you, you know, but at the term. I was not expecting it. Where did you hear it?”

  “During a dinner party that my mother held once. A group of men were recounting their latest drunken exploits and used that term several times.”

  “Remind me to watch what I say in your company. You may just use something against me.”

  “Hardly. I have no personal interest in using people’s words against them. But to use them for myself, that is a different matter altogether.”

  He laughed again. “You are one peculiar woman. Innocent and yet with a touch of the world, nothing enough to pollute you, but enough to keep a wise outlook on matters.” He grew serious. “Perhaps if Diana was more like you, we may be getting married at this moment.”

  He truly did love this woman, but did does not deserv
e him. Elizabeth had heard of a few things about Diana Lambert here and there in the ballroom. She was the talk of the town. It seemed that people either loved her or hated her. She thought she knew of the opinion that she would take, and it definitely was not a good one.

  “Do cheer up, my lord. Take this time away from her to think on your own life, to concentrate on what you want.”

  “What I want I currently cannot have.”

  Diana again. It seemed that he constantly had the woman on his mind, and she was beginning to grow tired of hearing about her.