A Courtship to Remember: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Although she did not suppose they would be overly concerned. They were a lively pair who did not seem to exhibit any of the severity that many people of their age seemed to. Elizabeth thought they would find her lack of shoes rather amusing. However, she doubted that Cecilia would. To her, image was everything.

  A quick plait and tuck of her hair and she was done. It was not particularly stylish, but as she did not intend to venture out of the house that, it would do.

  Elizabeth left her room, knowing without a doubt that she would be questioned about the baron. She had rehearsed a few answers, hoping that would satisfy the curiosity of her aunt and uncle.

  She took a deep breath and went downstairs.

  *

  Elizabeth's food was beginning to grow cold. Aunt Deborah and Uncle Noah had not ceased to speak of the ball, firing all manner of questions at her. They appeared to be just as excited as Cecilia, who was still eager to find out more about the Baron of Bedford.

  “My dear,” her aunt exclaimed. “Who knew that you would catch the attention of the most handsome man at the ball, the Baron of Bedford? My goodness!”

  “The man of the moment,” her uncle added. “I always said that our Elizabeth was a special girl. Imagine, the baron himself.”

  They made it seem as though Anthony was some type of god who was above everyone else. Yes, he bore a title. But he was not a duke or an earl. Those titles sounded far more auspicious to her. Not that she was one for titles, but she thought that a baron would not attract as much attention as a higher title. She was quite sure there was a duke at the ball, even an earl. Why did no one speak about them?

  “Lord Cavendish is a normal man like any other.”

  “So speaks the woman who spent an alarming amount of time with him,” Cecilia said. “I see it has gone to your head, for you do not seem to understand the magnitude of what has taken place.”

  Elizabeth sighed. "Why must you over-emphasise every little thing, Ceci? Is he a god that I should worship him? Is he a hero that I should honour him?"

  "He is the Baron of Bedford," Cecilia insisted. "One of the richest men in the country. The name that lingers on the lips of every warm-blooded woman in England. Did you not see his chiselled good looks? His physique?"

  “Cecilia! You are to be wed to another,” she scolded. “This is hardly a suitable speech for one in your position.”

  “Your sister is right, Cecilia,” said Uncle Noah. “Best you keep those sentiments for that young man of yours.”

  Cecilia turned a bright pink. "I merely wished for Elizabeth to understand just who the baron is. It was not my intention to appear amorous of him, for I love Percy with my whole heart."

  Aunt Deborah reached across the table to pat a suddenly tearful Cecilia's hand.

  "Oh dear, no one is implying that you do not love Percy. But if one did not know you, they may misconstrue what you were meaning to say. It is easy for a rumour to start – I do not think that either you nor Percy would appreciate a rumour of you batting your eyelashes at Lord Cavendish."

  “I would never do such a thing!”

  “Calm down, Ceci,” said Elizabeth. “We all know that. All we are saying is that you should be far more mindful of your words when in public. Now, let us eat our meal, for I am famished.”

  No sooner had she closed her mouth around some buttery egg that they started up their subject of the baron once more.

  “Elizabeth, we are simply delighted that you were able to catch the interest of a suitor so early in the season,” said Aunt Deborah. “You are lucky to find romance. And with such a wealthy man.”

  Cecilia, who had recovered from her little wobble, joined in the conversation with enthusiasm. “We could have a double wedding, Eliza. Just think of what our neighbours would say.”

  Elizabeth looked at her sister in surprise. She called me Eliza! The last time that she did so was years ago when she still looked up to her as an older sister. Just for that, Elizabeth would have been happy to join in the conversation, if it all did not bore her so much.

  “I hear he earns a yearly income of fifteen thousand pounds,” said her uncle. “Could you imagine such a sum? That is not counting the true value of his entire wealth.”

  Aunt Deborah chuckled gleefully. “Our dear Elizabeth would never want for anything.”

  “I do not want for anything at this moment, Aunt Deborah. I am quite content.”

  “Oh, Elizabeth,” Cecilia began. “You cannot possibly –”

  A polite knock at the door stopped her mid-sentence. Thank goodness. A maid came into the room carrying a beautiful-looking box.

  “A footman has just dropped this off, Marm.”

  The young girl handed it to Aunt Deborah, curtsied, and left the room. Elizabeth's aunt turned the box in her hands, her expression an interesting mixture of a smile and a frown.

  “I wonder who this is from? The box is rather pretty, do you not think so?”

  “Is there a note?” Cecilia asked.

  Aunt Deborah searched the outside of the box once more, finding a note beneath the elaborate ribbon on the lid. A smile lit up the older woman's face as she read it. Elizabeth could not see what it said, but when she saw her aunt's gaze turn to her, she had the strongest feeling that the box was for her.

  “This appears to be yours, Elizabeth.”

  “Indeed?”

  Her aunt nodded and passed the box to her. It was fairly heavy and quite ornate, surprising her. Who would have sent her a gift? Anthony. Who else could afford to spend pounds on such an ornate box? It would be perfect to store her music sheets in.

  “I believe that I know who it is from,” said Cecilia. “The baron is obviously quite interested in you.”

  Why did Anthony choose to send this to her now? There was only one way to find out. She took the note, an involuntary smile stretching her lips as she read it.

  A beautiful dress for a beautiful maiden. Would you do me the honour of

  accompanying me to the opera this evening?

  Lord Cavendish

  The opera? She had ever been to the opera before. But she had always wanted to go.

  “What does it say, Elizabeth?” asked Cecilia.

  What on earth had prompted Anthony to do such a thing? Oh yes, he intended on showing her off to his friends. Word would reach Diana soon enough thereafter. Remembering this brought her spirits down. Do not be silly, Elizabeth, this plan has been orchestrated to bring Diana back to him and free me from the bondage of matrimony.

  “Eliza!” Cecilia shouted once more.

  “Do calm down, Cecilia,” scolded Aunt Deborah. “Let Elizabeth speak in her own time. Dear, what does the note say?”

  “Lord Cavendish has invited me to the opera this evening.”

  “But what is in the box?” Cecilia asked.

  “A dress.”

  “A dress?” exclaimed her aunt. “Do open it, Elizabeth. It must be quite extravagant.”

  Elizabeth obeyed her aunt and removed the lid, pausing when she caught the first glimpse of the dress. Not able to wait a moment longer, both her aunt and sister came to her, gasping when they saw the creation. Cecilia excitedly tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Do not just sit there, Eliza, take it out!”

  But Elizabeth did not really want to. Cecilia grew quite impatient with her for she picked up the first part of the dress and held it against herself, her eyes wide with awe.

  “Have you ever seen such a beautiful dress, Aunt Deborah?”

  The soft white of the dress was a contrast to the gold embroidery that started where her knees would be. The slight puff of the sleeves tapered above the elbow area with soft ruffles that ran across the top of the bodice. It was sheer muslin, perfect for the summer weather. The correct undergarments would have to be worn to protect her dignity.

  “I see a robe, Elizabeth,” her aunt said. “Let us see it.”

  Elizabeth carefully lifted out the burgundy-coloured open robe. It too revealed the same gol
d patterns along the edges and featured a train that would trail beautifully as she walked. It was quite heavy, as there were little stones sewn into the patterns, adding to the overall effect of the dress.

  “Oh, this will look lovely on you, Elizabeth!” her aunt gushed. “Look at the quality of it all. Oh my. This baron must indeed be serious about you.”

  Elizabeth did not comment but looked into the box when she noticed something glinting in the sunlight streaming in from the windows. She pulled out a large brooch with a clear stone in the centre, surrounded by red gems set in gold. She simply stared at it as it sat on her palm, not quite believing that something so exquisite would be worn by her. But it is all for show, is it not? Cecilia gasped when she finally saw it.

  “That must have cost the baron the moon and the sun.”

  “May I?” her uncle asked, holding out his hand.

  Elizabeth handed it to him, her hand feeling lighter as the brooch left her hand.

  “This must have cost a pretty penny,” he remarked. “He has acted rather lightly by sending this without guard.”

  Elizabeth found herself torn between being happy and annoyed. On the one hand, she was going to an opera house, and on the other, it was all for show.

  I should not be bothered by it all, but I would be lying to myself if I did not admit to the tiniest bit of jealousy.

  It seemed that the feeling of annoyance won. “It must be wonderful to possess so much wealth that you do not care to protect such a valuable piece of jewellery.”

  She knew that she sounded somewhat bitter, but she could not hide it either. However, no one else seemed to notice the tone in her voice.

  “My dear,” said her aunt. “All this could be yours if you played your cards correctly.”

  “That is how your aunt won me over,” her uncle laughed. “With a game of cards.”

  Aunt Deborah flapped a hand in his direction, laughing.

  "Oh, you! This is not about us, but about Elizabeth. We need to ensure that he falls head over heels in love with her. This dress will go a long way in doing so."

  Would it? Anthony's heart belonged to Diana, and to her alone. The women continued to fuss over the dress, so much so that Elizabeth became quite embarrassed. All this for a dress? She mentally shook her head. Although she did not admit it out loud, she was thrilled to be going to the opera.

  It will be an adventure and something that I shall undoubtedly always remember, even when he is happily married.

  *

  As Elizabeth walked into the large theatre, she could feel that all eyes were on her. Perhaps her hand on Anthony's arm did not help matters. Their gazes were like hot stones thrown in her direction. She was certain that they would love to pick up a stone and hurl it her direction. She giggled at the thought, drawing Anthony's attention.

  “What has amused you so?”

  "Nothing in particular. I just seem to be the target of many a woman's fiery gaze."

  “That is to be expected. Many of these women are friends with Diana and are quite loyal to her.”

  She frowned. “They do realise that she rejected you?”

  He shrugged. “Such is the way of women, I suppose.”

  “I ask you to not paint me with the same brush. I am nothing like these women.”

  “You are right,” he agreed. “Come, let me introduce you to our companions.”

  Elizabeth immediately felt butterflies flutter about her stomach. She could already deduce that they did not like her. How would they greet her? They headed in the direction of a tall, good-looking man that she recognised from the ball.

  “Lord Nicholson,” Anthony called. “Allow me to introduce you to Miss Elizabeth Ramsbury.”

  The man smiled at her and took her gloved hand in his, giving her a soft kiss on her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Ramsbury.”

  She dipped. “And you, Lord Nicholson.”

  “Please, call me Felton.”

  “Then I shall insist that you call me Elizabeth.”

  He smiled and nodded his head, releasing her hand. A few women approached them, each having a look that spoke volumes.

  Oh dear, they truly do not like me.

  “Miss Ramsbury, I presume?” a blonde woman asked. “Lovely to meet the woman who has stolen our Anthony's attention.”

  “Now Catherine, no one has stolen anything,” said Anthony. “I would say that she captivated me with her beauty and intelligence.”

  “Beauty and intelligence? How... nice,” she said. “I was not aware that you were able to find women like Miss Ramsbury in the countryside. Where have you been hiding?”

  “The countryside,” Elizabeth answered.

  “Oh, they do make them sturdy there, do they not?” another woman said. “You are wonderfully different.”

  Elizabeth could hear the sarcasm in the woman's words. If they had claws, they would have enjoyed scratching my eyes out.

  “Beatrice,” said Felton. “A good month in the countryside would do you some good. Put some healthy colour back in your cheeks.”

  Elizabeth drew her lips in, trying not to laugh. She looked at Felton and nodded her thank you. At least he appeared to like her.

  “Anthony,” Catherine called. “I was not aware that you were looking elsewhere. So many young women will be quite disappointed that we have lost one of our own to a sweet, little... normal girl.”

  The woman's meaning was clear enough. Elizabeth was not good enough for Anthony, likely because her father held no title. However, it was odd how they referred to the countryside as though they did not go there themselves. Most people who lived in London had homes in the countryside as well. While Elizabeth's family did, for the most part, remain in the countryside, they were not the only family to do so. Many titled families came in their droves during the winter months, returning to London when the season and Parliament were underway. Perhaps such was the way of the Ton.

  “Elizabeth is anything but normal,” Anthony replied. “Shall we go in?”

  He did not wait for a reply but started to walk forward. Elizabeth sneaked a glance behind her, pleased to see the affronted expressions of the women. Anthony patted her hand.

  “Do not concern yourself with them. Enjoy the opera – consider it an early birthday present.”

  “A rather lavish birthday present but thank you. I am quite excited. I have never been to an opera before.”

  "Then you will love this.”

  As most people entered through the double doors leading into the opera house, they turned left and climbed a few steps.

  I cannot believe that this is indeed happening! I had only ever dreamed of walking into a place such as this, but now here I am. It was all thanks to the man beside her. And Diana as well. I would not be here if he were not trying to win her back.

  They were the first to arrive at the balcony, which she preferred. It would have been terribly awkward for her had she had to walk in and have many eyes turn to look at her.

  I have already received quite a welcoming committee, I believe that I have had enough for one evening.

  “Come, sit. The show is about to start.” Anthony led her to an elaborately carved chair with a plush red cushion that matched the drapes on the stage.

  “This is all beautiful, Anthony. Thank you again for bringing me here.”

  He smiled. “The pleasure is all mine, Elizabeth.”

  His smile did odd things to her brain. Best look away. The balcony filled up quickly soon after they were seated. But she was spared having to look at them as the lights had already dimmed. As the music began, Elizabeth hoped she would be able to handle whatever negativity would come her way.

  *

  Anthony had known that Elizabeth would look beautiful in the dress he had chosen, but he was not prepared for how breathtaking she would be. When he arrived at her residence, his mind had been filled with thoughts of Diana returning to him. However, the moment he had seen Elizabeth, those thoughts had fled with the wind.

&nb
sp; Earlier that day, Anthony had paid a visit to the only seamstress in London whom he trusted to create a one-of-a-kind dress. However, as it was too late notice, Mrs Clothilde had advised him on several dresses that she had to hand. Anthony had gravitated to the white, gold and burgundy creation, knowing in his gut that it would look ravishing on Elizabeth. He often commissioned Mrs Clothilde to create dresses that would suit Diana's flamboyant nature. He had enjoyed purchasing things for her, especially things that he knew she would never find anywhere else. Diana always had expensive taste, but she was never openly appreciative of all that he did for her.