by Joyce Alec
“Do not remind me,” Charles replied with a chuckle. “She would fawn all over me!”
He felt clammy at the thought. He could not forget the humiliation he had felt walking into his own drawing room to find the lady with one of his footmen. Both had been sent from his house instantly.
Letting out a shout of laughter, Matthew turned to Charles, refusing to let him forget the last lady who had shown such an interest in him, “And Lady Amelia?”
Charles shook his head.
"I must confess to having been slightly taken with her."
She had appeared to be a most eligible lady, and he had found her handsome enough to consider courting her.
“Oh you must tell me the story, it has been so long since I last heard it,” Matthew cried, clearly in a jovial mood.
Charles sighed, rolling his eyes. "Very well. We were at some picnic if I recall correctly, and she and I had managed to seclude ourselves a little from the other guests."
“And you had tried to win her affections.”
“I wanted to kiss her, if that’s what you mean,” Charles retorted. “Everything was going well, and we were becoming quite close. She was encouraging my attentions. She was not the most handsome of women, but I did desire to kiss her. Unfortunately, as I stepped forward to get closer to the lady, I tripped—goodness knows on what—and completely toppled the woman as we fell to the ground!”
“Go on, go on!” Matthew exclaimed, knowing what was coming.
"It was only then that I realized she had stuffed the top of her dress with handkerchiefs to look more buxom," Charles finished, feeling the urge to laugh despite the story. "The handkerchiefs were scattered about. I remember being on my hands and knees looking for them under the bushes and shrubs. I assume she was embarrassed, but I didn’t think it was right to walk away without trying to help her locate her belongings."
Matthew, now doubled over, laughed long and hard. “She never spoke to you again, if I recall?” Matthew said eventually, trying to catch his breath.
“Never,” Charles said, a little regretfully. “Although I don’t know what we would have said to each other. There is no way we could have ever had a civil conversation again without thinking about what transpired.”
"True!" Matthew agreed, slapping his friend on the shoulder as they both leaned over to watch the dancers. "Charles," he said after a moment, suddenly serious. "If you truly like Lady Martha, and you believe her word that these rumors are nothing but a fabrication, then you should pursue her!"
Charles thought carefully. There was no reason as to why he should not court Lady Martha or begin to consider the possibility of matrimony. He liked the lady, found her most attractive and, in addition, he seemed to lack the clumsiness that he associated with all the other women of his acquaintance.
"I do not believe the rumors," he said, firmly, choosing, right then, to accept her word on the matter. "Lady Martha is a most genteel lady, and I cannot imagine that she would ever do any of the things that have been suggested of her."
Charles remembered what she had said about her stepbrother, wondering for a moment whether he could be behind the vicious lies, but then dismissed the idea entirely. Mayhap Lady Martha and her stepbrother were finding it difficult to get along, but she was under his protection, and he was certain that any true gentleman would take that responsibility seriously.
“Matthew,” he said, finally. “You are right. I like Lady Martha, and I intend to pursue an acquaintance with her. I shall make my intentions perfectly clear to her tomorrow.”
“Glad to hear it,” Matthew smiled. “I, too, am looking forward to finding out if this friend of Lady Martha’s is indeed the mystery woman for whom I have been searching. Tomorrow could potentially be a good day for us both.”
“I hope so,” Charles replied, feeling a sudden rush of nerves. “I truly hope so.”
Chapter Seven
“Lord Green, you are right on time,” Martha took his offered arm, beaming up at him.
Charles smiled at her. “May I say, Lady Martha, you are quite the vision today.” She really did look beautiful, he thought, her dark green walking dress complimenting her eyes perfectly.
“I thank you,” she replied, squeezing his arm lightly. “How do you do, Lord Hoskins?”
"Please, I insist you call me Matthew," he replied. "I am not vastly enamored with propriety and find my formal name much too restrictive. Besides, we are going to be fast friends, I am sure, particularly if this friend of yours turns out to be the lady I have been searching for."
He winked, and Martha found herself laughing.
“Very well, Matthew,” she responded, catching the twinkle in his eye. “I should be glad if you would both call me Martha.”
Matthew nodded, smiled, and walked a few steps behind Martha and Charles, to give them some privacy.
“Martha. It’s such a lovely name,” Charles responded.
“Thank you, it was my mother’s,” she said softly, a look of sadness in her eyes. “She died when I was quite young.”
“Did your father remarry soon after?” Charles asked as they began to stroll towards Hyde Park.
She shook her head. “It was not until eight years later. The moment he laid eyes on Lady Crewe, I believe it was love at first sight.”
“She was a good stepmother?”
“Oh yes,” Martha replied. “She was very loving. Having been widowed herself, I believe she and father found an understanding between them, having both lost their marriage partners. They loved each other very much. I was devastated to lose them both.”
There was silence for a moment as they walked, Martha struggling to compose herself as the pain over her parents’ deaths became fresh once more.
“I am sorry you have experienced so much loss,” Charles said quietly, wishing he could wrap an arm around her shoulders.
Martha looked up at him, her green eyes awash with tears. “I loved them both,” she said simply. “Life with my stepbrother has been quite difficult since their death. We got along well enough while our parents were alive, but their deaths changed him.”
Charles stroked her hand with his own free one, not knowing what to say.
“Lord Green, I –”
“Charles,” he interrupted.
"Very well," she said, with a gentle smile. "Charles, there is something I must tell you. It is about my stepbrother. I want to be honest with you and tell you everything, so that you know the truth."
Puzzled, Charles stopped for a moment, turning to face her.
“Of course, Martha. I am quite happy to listen to anything you have to say, so please, be frank with me.”
Martha took a breath, not quite sure how to begin. “My stepbrother, Gerald, he –”
“Is that her?”
She was interrupted by the vastly excited Matthew, who came rushing over to them.
“Is that her? Do you see her?”
Matthew gestured openly, pointing towards a lady walking in the distance.
“I’m afraid I cannot say,” Martha replied, hiding her grin. “Shall we walk together? I am sure our paths will cross quite soon.”
Nodding, Matthew began to walk, leaving Charles and Martha behind him as they struggled to keep up with his fast pace.
"I believe it is her, Matthew," Martha said suddenly, recognizing her friend's features. "Although I cannot say I recognize who her companion is."
“It’s Lord Deveraux,” Matthew responded, his dislike of the man was clearly evident. “But that is your friend, Martha? You are sure?”
“I am certain,” she said, laughing a little. “Shall I introduce you?”
Thrilled that he had found the mystery woman, Matthew beamed at Martha.
“I should be ever in your debt, Martha.”
Chuckling, Martha saw Suzanne’s face light with recognition, and she ran to embrace her friend. Lord Deveraux continued on to meet Matthew and Charles, before spotting some other gentleman that he wanted to greet.
>
“Suzanne, it is so good to see you.”
"You must forgive me, Martha. Mama has got it in her head that you are quite ruined, even though I told her such rumors are fabricated."
“I cannot blame her,” Martha replied. “Gerald has been quite cruel.”
“He still wishes for you to sign over your property?” Suzanne dropped her voice as the gentlemen approached.
Martha nodded and quietly whispered, “I must find a suitable husband before my twenty-fifth birthday, or he will force me to live in the streets. I am absolutely certain he will do so; his threats have become much more severe of late.”
“Whatever shall you do?” Suzanne asked, her eyes filled with alarm.
“Well, I really don’t know, Suzanne.” Martha smiled, seeing Charles and Matthew approach. “May I introduce Lord Green and Lord Hoskins? This is my friend, Lady Suzanne.”
“How do you do?” Suzanne replied, curtsying and casting an eye over Charles as he took Martha’s hand and placed it under his arm. “It is very nice to meet you, Lord Green and Lord Hoskins.”
Suzanne lifted one eyebrow as she looked at Martha, taking in her smile and feeling a sense of happiness as she realized what Martha hadn't been able to tell her.
"Lord Green, is it? I hope you are taking good care of my friend, given the difficult time she has been having of late."
“I have,” Charles replied, no trace of a stutter in his voice. “Lady Martha is most dear to me.”
Martha felt her heart leap at his words, bestowing a dazzling smile on him.
“And I am Lord Hoskins,” Matthew interjected, bowing once more.
“Yes, I am aware of that,” Suzanne said crisply, taking in the gentleman before her. “You are also a friend of Lady Martha?”
“Indeed,” Matthew replied, not able to take his eyes from Lady Suzanne. “And of Charles—I mean, Lord Green, of course.”
“I see.”
“Lord Hoskins has been searching for you, Suzanne,” Martha said, ignoring Matthew’s gasp of shock.
“Searching for me?” Suzanne replied, turning her brilliant blue eyes back onto Lord Hoskins. “Whatever for?”
“I…umm. What I mean to say, is…”
“He was greatly taken with your red curls,” Charles interjected, glad to finally be able to get one over his friend. “In fact, he has talked about nothing else of late.”
Suzanne’s eyebrows rose. “Indeed,” she said, quietly, seeing Lord Hoskins stutter and gasp like a fish out of water. “What is it about my hair that interests you so much, Lord Hoskins?”
Matthew’s mind had gone completely blank as the woman he’d been searching for was now staring at him with one raised eyebrow, clearly waiting for her answer. His mouth had gone dry, and he could not think of a single thing to say. Was this how Charles felt on a regular basis? Hearing his friends begin to chuckle at his mortification, he threw them an angry look before turning back to Lady Suzanne.
“It is...very red,” he managed, hearing both Martha and Charles break into loud peals of laughter.
Dropping his gaze and feeling his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment, he found himself staring at the ground, standing mutely before her.
“It is very red,” Suzanne said, helpfully, a smile on her face. “Come now, shall you not offer me your arm and we can stroll around the park together? It appears Lord Deveraux has quite forgotten me.”
Glancing up at her and seeing her to be serious, Matthew jerked in surprise before rushing over to her and offering his arm, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste.
“Careful now,” Charles laughed, turning to walk with Martha once more. “Anyone would think you were besotted with the lady.”
Embarrassed beyond words, Matthew could not even reply. He was walking with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, and even she was shaking with laughter.
Chapter Eight
"I am sorry we did not get to finish our conversation about your brother," Charles said as they stood outside Martha's townhouse. "Perhaps tomorrow?"
She blushed a little, nodding her consent. “I would very much like to see you again, Charles.”
“And I you,” he cooed, bowing over her hand.
To her surprise, he turned her hand over and kissed her palm, his breath tickling her skin and sending a frisson of excitement up her arm.
“Martha,” he breathed, standing as close to her as he dared. “I should very much like to court you. What do you say?”
“I say yes,” she replied instantly, no hesitation on her part. “I like you a great deal, Charles. I hope you know that.”
"I do." He smiled into her eyes, feeling a peace wash over him that he hadn't felt for years. He liked this woman immensely, and it appeared she was enamored with him also. What good fortune!
“Until tomorrow then,” he said finally, taking a step away from her. “Shall we say three o’clock?”
“I will very much look forward to tomorrow,” she said, wishing she was able to touch his cheek or hold his hand, or make some kind of contact with him.
“I will bring my carriage,” he said, bowing once more before leaving her side.
Martha watched him walk away, almost hugging herself with excitement. It looked as though she could be free of Gerald once and for all and live in happiness. Everything she had hoped for, everything she had once dreamed of, seemed to be coming true.
***
Gerald ambled into White’s, a local tavern, feigning nonchalance whilst casting a beady eye around the club. He’d listened to his stepsister’s welcome that afternoon when the gentlemen had come to call. He was now aware that it was Lord Green and Lord Hoskins that had been calling on her. Which one it was that cared for her, Gerald was not quite sure, but it did not matter. Gerald was sure he would recognize him, and he would ensure they were both aware that his stepsister was not someone they wished to be associated with in any way.
Gerald recognized the men he was seeking and headed their way.
***
“Another drink?” asked Matthew.
“I mustn’t,” Charles replied, smiling broadly. “I want to be at my best tomorrow.”
“Of course,” Matthew replied, giving his order to a passing servant. “Taking Lady Martha out again, are we?”
“I am,” Charles said. “What about you? Did you and Lady Suzanne have much to talk about?”
“Even if we did, it was no thanks to you,” Matthew retorted, taking a sip of his port.
He had not quite forgiven his friend for the afternoon’s embarrassment, his pride badly dented. Thankfully, Lady Suzanne seemed quite forgiving, and he had enjoyed chatting with her as they promenaded around Hyde Park. It had been a most enjoyable afternoon.
“Come now,” Charles replied. “If it was not for Lady Martha, then you would never have made her acquaintance. You must have forgiven her—and me—by now.”
“Very well,” Matthew said, a trifle haughtily. “Yes, we did have an exceptional time together. She is a lovely lady with excellent conversation and a sparkling wit.”
“I take it you are to see her again?”
Matthew grinned, all trace of annoyance gone. “Of course. I am taking her out riding the day after tomorrow.”
“Did I hear you mention Lady Martha?”
Startled, Matthew and Charles looked up at an unknown gentleman, who was studying them both with a questioning expression on his face.
“We did,” Matthew replied slowly, “but I cannot see what business that is of yours.”
“Oh, none at all, I assure you,” the gentleman replied, taking a seat and ignoring their unfriendly gazes. “I must simply warn you about her.”
"Yes, yes, we have heard the rumors," Charles said, waving a hand. "If you will excuse us—”
He turned pointedly to Matthew, but the man was not to be dissuaded.
"I'm afraid it is much more severe than a simple rumor," he began, shaking his head. "I am her stepbrother, Lord Crew
e."
That got their attention, Gerald thought slyly, seeing both men turn to face him.
“Lord Crewe, you say?” Matthew replied coolly. “Whatever can you mean by such remarks about the lady?”
Matthew glanced at Charles with a warning in his eyes, but Charles’s gaze was fixed on the man.
Gerald sighed loudly, shaking his head once more, before saying, “As you know, Lady Martha resides with me, and I see her as the sister I never had.” He smiled a little, as though recalling fond memories. “When my stepfather passed on, he charged me to care for her, which, of course, I promised to do.”
“Of course,” Charles replied, nodding in assent. “As any gentleman would.”
“Quite,” Gerald said, smoothly. “Unfortunately, the lady has been difficult, and I am afraid that all of the rumors are not false.”
Charles stared at him in shock, all color draining from his face. Matthew, seeing his friend's reaction, cast an anxious eye over him.
“I beg your pardon?” Charles whispered.
Gerald shrugged. “She was in love with a man who did not love her. After compromising her, the man stole her dowry.”
Charles was not so sure he believed Lord Crewe, finding it far too much of a coincidence that the man had been nearby when they had been talking of Lady Martha.
“If a man was taking advantage of your sister, why did you not defend her honor and retrieve her dowry?”
“I could not blame the man entirely!” Gerald exclaimed, leaning forward in earnest. “It was partially her fault, too. She should have stayed pure. And then, how did she get ahold of her dowry? No solicitor would give money to a lady when it was under her guardian’s possession.”
There was silence for a moment. Gerald shook his head in disapproval.
“Women have their ways,” Gerald said, his meaning perfectly clear.
Charles had gone milk white, feeling as though his breath was being sucked from his body with every word Gerald said. Could it be true? Why would the gentleman have reason to lie?