A Courtship to Remember: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “It is impossible to replace you, my dear. You are a cut above the rest, the woman who stole my heart with a single smile. What good would it have done me to find a replacement?”

  “Then why did I hear of you courting that woman?”

  Diana was not going to let this go, but his patience was wearing thin.

  “Put Elizabeth out of your mind, my love. I am with you, that is all that matters.”

  Her pout slowly turned into a smile, letting him know that he had spoken the right words. "Perhaps you are right. Poor Miss Ramsbury, I am certain that she is quite taken by you. And why not? You are handsome and rich."

  Her words did not sit right with him. Was that all that she saw in him? His appearance and wealth? “Surely there is more to me than that, my dear.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “But those are the things that I first noticed. I can hardly be courted by a man who does not compliment my beauty or is a pauper. What would the Ton say?”

  “Surely when you are in love those things are only secondary?”

  Diana laughed. “You are a hopeless romantic, Anthony. Love is hardly a necessary emotion.”

  His heart turned cold. “Love allows for you to compromise, to be patient, and to be kind even in the midst of an argument. Without love, you cannot hope to be happy.”

  Anthony watched as she rolled her eyes. It was just as well that they sat away from the other dinner party guests as he did not know what they would have made of her words and actions. He took a quick look around him, hoping to see Felton. But he was nowhere to be seen. He had left earlier that day, clearly upset with him.

  What did I expect? Felton has never liked Diana, that is no secret. However, I would have hoped that he would have stayed for the dinner party rather than leave me to deal with her.

  Anthony nearly laughed. What irony is this? I have claimed to love this woman, angering my friend in doing so, but now I wish that he were here so that I may not deal with her? It seems that I do not know what I want. He did not realise that he had been smiling until Diana spoke.

  “I do hope that I am the one to have put that smile on your face, dear Anthony.”

  “Of course.”

  Anthony's tone had a tinge of sarcasm to it that surprised even himself. He saw her eyes narrow for just a moment, before being replaced by her usual look of mild boredom. At that moment, he wished to be anywhere else but where he sat.

  “Perhaps I can play a piece on the pianoforte?”

  Diana laughed. "Oh, dear me. Please, do not do such a thing and bore us all. Your taste and love of music bore me, Anthony. I wish that you would look to another activity that is far more rewarding."

  “What can be more rewarding than producing music to entertain?”

  “Entertain?” she scoffed. “I know the music that you love, Anthony. It bores me terribly.”

  “Then what is it that you wish to do?”

  Diana took another sip of her drink before placing it on the table beside her. “It is simple, really. I prefer to socialise with our companions.”

  Socialise was not a word Antony would have used. Gossip would be a more apt description.

  “That does sound simple.”

  Sarcasm again? I may just turn into those wisecracking fellows who relish a bite to their words. Or perhaps she just brings out the worst in me.

  Diana did not appear to have picked up anything untoward, but a part of him hoped that she would. She lifted her glass, draining her glass of the bubbly liquid. Anthony had stopped counting the number of drinks she had consumed at number three. He saw her gaze fall to his still full glass of champagne, her brow puckered. “You have not touched your champagne, Anthony. Are you ill?”

  He shook his head. “Not in the slightest. I simply have no stomach for alcohol this evening.”

  “Why do you insist on being a bore? I have only just returned from Paris, for you I might add, and you have done nothing to celebrate my return.”

  “Do you think that drinking would be a celebration of your return?”

  Her eyes widened, a warning signal for him. Perhaps he had gone a step too far. Sarcasm may have flown over her head, but he doubted that questioning her favourite pastime would endear her to him. Was that what he wanted? To endear her to him? Their reconciliation is not what he had perceived it would be, and he could not say for sure that he was sorely disappointed. He found this peculiar, as he had worshipped the ground that she had walked upon, holding a light for her return. Anthony knew that there had been a shift in his heart, and it was likely caused by his time with Elizabeth.

  “What would be your version of a celebration? Taking me to the opera?”

  He heard the sharp bite of her words, but it did not affect him. He cocked his head to the side, a small smile playing about his lips. “Yes, you do not like the opera, do you?”

  “I detest it. It is one of the things that I do not like about you, Anthony. I beg you not to take me there for I cannot stand that ridiculous music, it is all just noise to me.”

  “Is that so?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You know this well, Anthony. You must change if you would have our courtship turn into matrimony.”

  The urge to laugh was strong. What had he been doing for the past six years if not compromising in her favour? Often times he had put aside his needs and feelings to please her, asking for little in return. Of course, he had believed her to be in love with him. But now he was not so sure.

  “Will you change for me?”

  She gave a little giggle. “I am here, am I not? I exchanged Paris for you. Surely you see that as a compromise?”

  Anthony sat back in his chair, his elbow leaning on the cushioned armrest. He regarded her with opened eyes, finally seeing her as the woman that Felton had accused her of being on many occasions. A dark mood overtook him, but he reined it in, not wishing to unleash it. However, he allowed some of its darkness to seep into his next words.

  "Why did you return, Diana? Your words were quite final when last you spoke to me. Many words were said, most not complimentary at all. While I was with Elizabeth, I heard not a single bad word come from her lips."

  Diana's eyes narrowed. “Do not speak to me of that woman. Would you insult me by comparing me to a commoner?”

  “A commoner who treated me better than you did.” There, he had finally said it.

  He watched her eyes open in alarm, her hand going to her chest. “What has put you into such a dark mood that you would speak such a thing?”

  “The truth is the truth, Diana.”

  She suddenly sat up straighter, head held high and stiff as she regarded him with a stare that burned with indignation. “Anthony, I command you to stop thinking about that woman!”

  He raised a brow. “You command me? And who are you to command me?”

  The question was said with a soft voice, but the danger in his voice spoke volumes. Anthony watched in humour as she deflated.

  “But she is not like us, Anthony,” she said plaintively. “She is below us. Why would you wish to humiliate me by comparing me to her?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Rank, title, status... this does not matter to me as much as being with a woman who will love me.”

  Diana's eyes widened. "But she is not even beautiful!" she spluttered. "She is as plain as I had originally heard."

  “Come now, Diana. You do not speak the truth. Elizabeth is a very beautiful woman. I believe I quite like auburn-haired women with amber eyes.”

  Diana's face was comical to watch as several expressions flitted across her features. At one point, Anthony believed that she would scream and shout, but that moment passed quite quickly. Instead, she left her seat and came to sit on a chair next to him, bringing it closer to rest beside him. Several guests looked in their direction, undoubtedly interested in her sudden movement. Not taking any notice of the people about them, she leaned in closer to speak with him.

  "That woman is nowhere near as exciting as I am, Antho
ny dear. I have now returned. Thus, we can enjoy our life together."

  “I am not certain that I wish to enjoy your type of life.”

  Her eyes flashed, only to be replaced with mock love and kindness. She stretched and took his hand in hers. “Dear Anthony, I know that I have hurt you terribly, I realise that now. But I cannot fathom why you put much stock by my leaving you. I simply needed a diversion, a change from everything. That is all.”

  Anthony snatched his hand away, disgusted by her answer. “A diversion? Is that why you rejected me in such a callous manner? You humiliated me, Diana. I poured out my heart and love to you, but you chose to reject me and then humiliate me for your enjoyment. What do you suppose I should think about the manner in which you left me?”

  "Nothing!" she insisted. "You should think nothing of it. I was merely in a bad mood that day, dear Anthony. My Abigail absconded, and I was left to rely on a maid who knows nothing of my daily activities. Surely you can understand that?"

  Despite his annoyance, he laughed. Why did he continue to be surprised? This was the sort of thing that she has done throughout the time that he had known her. The only difference was that now he knew better. There was no excuse for her behaviour. None whatsoever.

  “Diana, you have taken things a step too far. I am not the same man you left behind, and I shall never be him. I cannot be with a woman who believes it acceptable to humiliate a person merely due to her moods. I cherished you, I did everything that you asked of me. What satisfaction did you gain from treating as you did?”

  Anthony moved his hand away when she stretched out hers to his. She did not look hurt but amused by his actions.

  “But that is all in the past, Anthony. I promise to never do that to you again. Why do we not just start anew? We can pretend that it never happened and continue with our lives as before. Your Diana has returned. Is it so difficult to just be happy about it?”

  It was as though he were talking to a brick wall. Nothing was getting through to her. Suddenly, the need for fresh air was great. He was tired, tired of the monotony of social gatherings, being surrounded by people who would sooner stab you in the back if it would benefit them, and tired of loving a woman who did not have a care to his feelings. But did he still love her? Sighing, he stood up.

  “Diana, please excuse me. I find myself in need of some air.”

  Diana stood up as well. “Let me accompany you.”

  “Oh, no. Remain with your friends and get a new glass of champagne, please. I wish to be alone.”

  “But I –”

  “Please, Diana, I merely need some fresh air. I shall return in a little while.”

  She did not look as though she entirely trusted him, but she let him go without another word. As he made his way past the clusters of people, Anthony hoped that the balcony would be devoid of any guests, as he wished to be alone. He needed a moment to himself to think about the situation, about his future with Diana. Fortunately, the balcony was empty. He leant on the low wall overlooking the lawn they had occupied just hours earlier. Anthony rubbed his face, trying to rub the weariness away, but it remained like cobwebs in his mind. Several hours with Diana and already he was tired.

  It was odd that he used to be energised by the mere appearance of her, but now he felt fatigued, down to his very bones.

  What would his future be? Making Diana his wife had been his dream for the better part of six years. What his parents had thought of her had not mattered because he had never witnessed what they had seen.

  He defied his parents merely to be with her. What sort of a son was he?

  He had thought his parents unfair and harsh in their opinion of her, coming to her defence at every chance he got.

  And now look at him.

  How he wished that his parents were still alive so that he may apologise to them.

  Had they had met Elizabeth, he knew they would have loved her.

  A pang of regret surged through him at his thought of her. Had she been here with him instead of Diana, he knew he would have not had the need to escape the dinner party for fresh air. She was fresh air personified.

  There was never a single moment of boredom, annoyance, or fatigue. It was as though she came with the fresh air of a morning during the springtime, revitalising him and giving him the energy to sit for hours without thought of sleep. He could go through several days of just talking to her.

  And yet here he was with the woman he had worked to get back through an elaborate plan that would have scandalised the Ton. Courtship was not something to be toyed with, but he and Elizabeth had embarked on a false one to meet their individual needs.

  He shook his head, finding his situation both humorous and to be pitied. Anthony had no one else to blame but himself.

  He turned to look at the balcony doors, knowing that just beyond that room sat a woman who spoke as though she were ready to marry him. But did he want to marry her?

  If only she were more like Elizabeth.

  A part of him wished that Diana could be Elizabeth. But there was no hope of that taking place. Elizabeth had her life of music to live, and he had a life to live with Diana.

  Why did that not seem like a happy ending?

  Felton would say that the gods were laughing at him. But Anthony did not believe that the world was run by gods with human emotions. This was fate, a fate dealt out to him due to his failure to listen to reason.

  Anthony took in a deep breath and made slow progress to the doors, almost wishing that the balcony possessed stairs by which he could escape. What was the use in running away? Had Diana not done that? No, he would not run away. But if fate were kind, he would walk away to be with the one who fitted him perfectly in every way.

  That was not likely to happen. He could not come between her and her dreams merely because he felt that she was better suited to him.

  If he were honest with himself, he would admit that there was more to it than being suited to one another. How else could he explain the way his heart would swell whenever he saw her? Or the peace he felt in her presence? Most would call it love, but Anthony would not allow himself to think of it in that way. It would hurt too much.

  Better to live with the woman I know than the uncertainty of the one he did not know.”

  Elizabeth had never said that she loved him, but there had been moments where he believed that she possibly could hold an affection for him. What would happen were he to leave Diana and pursue Elizabeth, only to be rejected by her? The repercussions would be too great to handle.

  He would likely become a hermit.

  He entered the drawing room, immediately feeling engulfed by the air of a life that he would give up if it meant his happiness would be guaranteed.

  But he was not a betting man.

  Anthony made his way back to Diana, wishing it were Elizabeth he was returning to.

  *

  To say that Cecilia was nervous would be putting it lightly. She was absolutely terrified about what she was about to do, but Aunt Deborah had agreed with her.

  “Imagine I had asked my mother? she said out loud to the empty carriage. “She may have locked me in my room to prevent me from embarking on this mission.”

  She did not wish to think about her father's reaction, or it may make her turn around and return to the townhouse.

  “I am doing this for Eliza, and that is all that matters. And it would be wonderful to succeed because not only would my sister be happy, but I shall too.”

  She grimaced as she thought about what Percy would say should he find out about her little adventure.

  Once he finds out that it is for a good reason, he would be happy that she did it.

  Percy was nothing like her father. It was one of the reasons she was so drawn to him. He did not try to dominate her, belittle her, or think her simple. Cecilia was not so obtuse as to not know that she was not exactly the brightest of young women. But neither was she without sense in her head. She was not like Elizabeth, who could spend hours at an
instrument, or read books, or meticulously copy music sheets for her own enjoyment. No, her interests lay elsewhere, and she thoroughly enjoyed them because she was good at it. Her sense of fashion, her social skills, the ability to work a room, extract information from the most unwilling of people, and get out of tight spots when her mouth had run away with her. No one understood her as Percy did, not even Elizabeth.

  They were close once. But when Cecilia realised that she would never be able to meet Mama's standards for music, their strong sisterly bond began to unravel. Not that she believed it happened purposefully, but when two people have such differing views of what they deemed important and enjoyable, a bond would naturally cease to exist.