A Courtship to Remember: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Elizabeth smiled wryly. "Indeed? I seem to remember a particular young lady who loves to relate news to me while we are preparing for bed."

  “That is hardly the same!”

  Elizabeth only laughed. “I shall say no more.”

  “But you must still tell me all about Lord Cavendish. He did not leave your side this evening, not once. Surely that means something?”

  “It means that he enjoyed my company. It must be wonderful not to have a woman run after you.”

  And yet he was running after a woman who clearly did not love him enough to keep their private affairs private. It would be easy to label him as being a hypocrite.

  Cecilia looked decidedly disappointed. “Is that all there is to it? Good company?”

  “What would you have me say?”

  “That he wishes to court you. Oh, Elizabeth. Would that not be the best thing in this world? I have to say that I am relieved. Even if you believe that it is all about companionship, I believe that he is looking for more. He hardly allowed his eyes to wander when he was with you.”

  That was because he was pretending, not due to any interest on his part. All he was concerned with was having Diana return to him. A part of her felt bitter about it, but she did not want to think about it too much.

  “I cannot speak for the baron, Cecilia. Time will tell if he decides to court me.”

  She did hate to lie! This plan had put her in a tricky position between not being too obvious and saying too much, to pretending that nothing is happening at all. Should she tell Cecilia about the plan? Elizabeth thought about it for a few seconds, quickly coming to a conclusion. She could not tell Cecilia about it because it could still backfire. If anything were to go wrong, she would be risking her sister's marriage.

  “Oh, I am certain that he will. You mark my words, Elizabeth. It is only a matter of time before he comes to our doorstep and requests your presence. What will you say then?”

  Elizabeth knew what her sister was asking. Was she going to refuse him? Not according to the plan.

  “Well, I do find him interesting, and I did enjoy his company. Due to this, I would be happy to grant his request.”

  "I cannot begin to tell you how happy this makes me feel. Imagine, my sister, being courted by the baron?. Although truth be told, I am surprised that he was able to forget about Miss Lambert. I last heard that he was madly in love with her."

  And he still was, but he was now hiding it. And he was going to use Elizabeth to do so.

  “Perhaps he is trying to move on with his life. You did tell me she had publicly humiliated him. I am sure he would like to put that firmly in his past.”

  “You are right, Elizabeth, and what better way to do it than by setting his sights on another beautiful woman?”

  A woman who was going to be publicly rejected once Diana decided to come back. Well, on the bright side she would have her freedom. Once rejected, many men will cease to see her as marriage material. Anthony's rejection will paint me in a bad light, but his rejection will also free me to pursue my own interests. I doubt that Papa will be able to force anything or anyone upon me.

  “I know what I shall do to celebrate this moment,” Cecilia declared.

  “And what is that?”

  “To write to Mama and Papa. I am sure they would like to know about the baron's interest in you.”

  Oh no! Elizabeth did not need her parents to be involved just yet. She needed to first find out what Anthony's next move would be.

  “I would rather you not do that just yet, Ceci. Give the baron time to make his decision. I refuse to rush things.”

  "Oh, I shall not make it terribly obvious. But I must tell them of our time in London – I am sure they will be waiting to hear all about our first ball. It is my first season after all. Would you begrudge me something as simple as writing a letter to them about it?"

  Her sister had indeed learned the art of turning a situation to make it appear that the other person was in the wrong. However, this time she was not going to succumb to her mind warfare.

  “You may write to your heart's content. But I ask that you do not include my affairs in the letter. If there is something to be told, I shall tell Mama and Papa myself. I shall write them a letter detailing my news.”

  Cecilia looked deflated. She had obviously been looking forward to being the first person to speak of Elizabeth's night spent with the dashing Baron of Bedford.

  "Oh well. That is your prerogative. Do as you will with your news."

  Elizabeth knew that her sister would not be able to resist adding little hints of the truth into her letter. Perhaps it would work in her favour. Once Papa heard that there may be a gentleman interested in her, he may forget his idea of finding her a husband. The letter would prove that she were taking the matter seriously.

  “Cecilia, on second thoughts, you may write about the baron and I to Mama and Papa, but do not lie. I refuse to be held responsible for any lies that you may feed them. Do I make myself clear?”

  Cecilia smiled. “Crystal clear, dear sister. Oh, this is going to be wonderful. I should write to Percy and tell him that we will be married sooner than he thinks.”

  Well, if this plan works out well, you will be married to your sweetheart, Anthony will have Diana once again, and I shall pursue my musical career. However, the thought of having a musical career did not fill her with the same joy she had had not so long ago. What was wrong with her?

  *

  Anthony could not believe his luck. Going to the ball had proven to be useful. Very useful indeed. Diana may return to him sooner than anyone thought. Who knew that this would happen? He had resigned himself to having insufferable women trying to talk up their attributes to him all the while repelling him with the very same attributes. That was until he met Elizabeth. He was not aware that women such as she even existed. A woman who was refusing marriage for a career?” Of course, he had heard of a scant few women doing so, but they were usually women who could not find a husband – well, in his opinion that was. Elizabeth could easily find a husband based on her appearance alone.

  But she had chosen to give up on matrimony and take up an independent life. He could only admire her for it. He may not necessarily agree with it, but he did admire her. Such great drive was seldom found in women.

  No, that was not entirely true. Diana possessed a drive, but it was not necessarily a positive one.

  It was odd that he was beginning to see faults in Diana. But they did not make him love her any less. His love was not conditional.

  But her love certainly is, a quiet voice in his head stated. There was no denying it, Diana clearly did not love him as he loved her.

  Perhaps he had not given her ample opportunity to show her love because he had been the one to shower her with affection. She may think that the relationship was one-sided.

  But it was one-sided. He did all the work while she basked and flourished in his attention. But that was the way a relationship should be. The man was the one to shower the woman with attention to let her know that she was appreciated. For once they were married, her life would soon consist of keeping him happy, running their home, seeing to their children and hosting dinners and parties. But could he deny that he had genuinely enjoyed spending time with Elizabeth? She had been his equal in every aspect, but she had not sought to try and exalt herself above him. Intelligent women were well-known for doing that, in trying to prove how much better they were than men.

  Ridiculous really. That would be as if you were comparing the sun to the moon!

  Women and men were miles different, not only in anatomy but in personality and thinking. That was just the way it was meant to be. Rather than trying to prove how much better they were, perhaps it would be better for them to find their match, just as he had found his match in Diana. Not for the first time a niggle of doubt started to irritate his conscience. Did he truly think that? If it were true, then why did Diana not see it as well? Surely a good match was visible to all? />
  He appeared to have more in common with Elizabeth than he did with Diana, which somewhat concerned him.

  Why should he be more comfortable with a stranger than his own love? There had always been an edge to Diana's exterior, an edge that kept him from entirely breaking down her defences. He had believed that a marriage proposal would be just the thing to close any gaps between them. But it had only served to widen their differences. For goodness sake, she ran away from him and fled for Paris. What more could he want to show him that they are on two opposite sides of the love spectrum?

  But opposites do attract, at least that is what he heard being said by others.

  That would explain why he felt what he did about Diana. His love for her was an all-consuming, night-tossing, feverish kind of love. One that could easily drive a man crazy.

  Diana had driven him crazy for want of her attention and love, needing to be with her. He did not know why she continued to deny her love for him.”

  Although he had professed his love for her on numerous occasions, Diana had yet to reciprocate. Anthony had never been particularly bothered by her lack of declaration, for he knew that she loved him. Or at least he thought she did. One cannot be with someone for six years and not be in love. It simply was not possible, was it? He shook his head, trying to rid himself of any doubt.

  His plan would work, he just knew it. Diana would be back in his arms before long, and as his wife no less. The strange thing was, he found it no hardship to be in a partnership with Elizabeth. She made things easy for him, so easy that he had momentarily forgotten that he was in a false courtship. This was the kind of relationship he hoped to have with Diana once she came to her senses. He no longer wished to put up with her theatrics, flighty ways and tantrums. They were both adults who loved each other. Therefore, their relationship needed maturity.

  Of course, there needed to be an element of enjoyment too. He could not stand a boring and tedious marriage.

  His thoughts travelled back to the comments she had hurled at him. She had called him boring and dull, a man she could never see herself married to.

  Yet he had done everything that she had ever asked of him. How could she find him dull?”

  Anthony's troubling thoughts were interrupted by Felton as he walked into the drawing room.

  “I had thought that you were asleep,” Anthony said. “You specifically asked to have a room ready for you were too tired to travel to your own estate.”

  “Yes, I am well aware of that. But I found that I could not sleep. You have yet to tell me about the lovely young woman you paraded on your arm during the ball.”

  “Do you mean Miss Ramsbury?”

  Felton frowned. “Was there another woman that you spent the evening with? I only noticed the woman with the auburn hair and piercing amber eyes. Pretty mouth, too.”

  Anthony found that he did not like Felton describing Elizabeth in such detail. “I would be grateful if you would refrain from being too forward about Miss Ramsbury.”

  "Too forward?" Felton laughed. "You hardly know the woman. And now you seek to defend her honour?"

  “I am not defending her honour. She can do that herself. But I do not like you speaking of her as though she were a piece of, of –”

  “Of what?”

  “Property to be inspected before purchase.”

  “So then you do like her. Why did you not just say so?”

  “Because it is early days yet.”

  Felton shook his head. “I never did think that you would find a woman so quickly. But let me tell you that I approve, I approve wholeheartedly.”

  “Thank you for that,” Anthony replied dryly.

  “Come on, old chap. You have found a wonderful woman to replace Diana. Surely that is something to celebrate?”

  “Rein in your horses, Felton. You are galloping far too quickly.”

  Felton sighed. “Have it your way. But if you are not serious about this woman, then I would request your permission to pursue her myself.”

  Anthony felt a rush of jealousy and anger. There was no way in damnation that Felton would pursue Elizabeth!

  He looked at his friend sharply. "You do so and you are a marked man."

  Felton held up in hands in surrender, laughing. “I said it in jest, Anthony. I merely wished to see how serious you were about her. Perhaps you should not play around and actually start to earnestly court her.”

  “So says the man who cannot bear the thought of commitment.”

  “Miss Ramsbury will be a welcome change for you.”

  Perhaps Felton was right. It would be best if he made his courtship intentions clear to everyone. However, everything else that his friend said would not do. Elizabeth was not a replacement, but a lure. A lure that he would enjoy courting about London.

  “There is an opera tomorrow. I think I might take her there.”

  “Would Miss Ramsbury enjoy that? I distinctly remember Diana yawning throughout the last one you took her to, complaining about the lack of life in the music.”

  “Miss Ramsbury is not like Diana, Felton. She enjoys music.”

  “Well, you have something in common there. You are a deft hand at the pianoforte.”

  “Hmm.”

  The more he thought about the opera, the more he liked the idea. Elizabeth would appreciate it. In fact, he had a strong feeling that she would love it. She had mentioned that it was her birthday soon. This would be his early present to her. With her on his arm, it would be clear to all that he was courting her. The tongues would start wagging, and news would soon reach Diana in Paris.

  “How fast is Mrs Clothilde with the needle, Felton?”

  “Faster than any woman that I know. Why?”

  "I am in need of a beautiful dress tomorrow."

  “Do you plan on buying Miss Ramsbury a dress?”

  “Yes.”

  He needed her to look ravishing. That would invoke greater jealousy within his beloved.

  Chapter 8

  Elizabeth abruptly woke from her sleep, sitting straight up in bed as she tried to deduce whether or not she had dreamt the entire meeting with Anthony. She got out of bed, immediately going to the water urn and pouring some water into a porcelain wash basin. She gave her face a good splash before making her way to the window to air-dry. Elizabeth made sure not to make her position obvious to the people who walked below – to be seen in her nightdress would not be something that her father would wish to hear of his daughter doing. The streets were already bustling with activity. She noted chimney sweeps covered in soot, smartly dressed men, and a woman selling a drink that many were lining up for. She strained to hear just what it was, coming away with the word 'salop'.

  She had heard of this drink, but had yet to taste it. She wondered if she could send a servant to get her some.

  But that would cut into her time of solitude. Something that she was not prepared to do. She shook her head, deciding against it. Salop will have to be drunk another time. Elizabeth continued to watch the ever-changing interesting scene below her. Bakers carried bread on wooden trays, enticing passers-by with the fresh, hot smell. Pedlars promised tasty cakes although, she was quite sure that they would not rival Mrs Black's cakes, their cook back home.

  This was certainly different to what she was accustomed to. Everything seemed quite lively, from the activities of the people to the smell of the place.

  She still preferred the countryside, but London offered an excitement that she was coming to enjoy. Or perhaps it had more to do with the baron than London itself. The clock downstairs chimed an hour which, judging by the light outside, might be seven in the morning. Breakfast would be at eight, giving her ample time to digest all that had happened thus far.

  She wondered if Anthony had decided to abort his plan. It was rather an elaborate one that could backfire most horrendously. Then again, it could work out beautifully. Life was not without risks, that much was certain. Anthony was likely a man accustomed to taking them. She would not have co
me up with such an idea.

  It took a certain level of confidence, did it not? One had to be confident in order to believe that such a plan could be successful.

  But she had agreed to it,. Did that mean that she was confident? She laughed. More likely desperate.

  As the street grew busier, she thought it wise to move away from the window and get ready for the morning meal. Elizabeth did not wish to call a maid to bring her some warmed water, so she settled with having a light wash of her hands and feet with the cold water in the washbasin. It was not altogether terrible as England was warming up. Summer had begun some weeks ago, the sun giving the country much-needed warmth. Elizabeth preferred spring and autumn, but the summer season held its own charm as well. It did not take her long to dress, picking a light, white dress with a flower embroidery along the bodice and the edge of the short sleeves. She was tempted to go without shoes, but as this was London, she thought it better to not commit a faux pas at her aunt and uncle's expense.