by Joyce Alec
“Just so long as you are not considering another trip abroad,” Luke’s father chuckled, his smile stretching across his face. “I think it best you remain here on England’s shores!”
The earl chuckled, slapping his friend on the back. “I quite agree.”
“Good. I am very glad to hear it,” his father replied with a smile. “We have been here the last few Seasons, alongside my brother-in-law’s son, who last year became the new Baron Parke.”
“I did not know your brother-in-law had passed away,” the earl said with a slight frown. “I am sorry to hear it.”
Luke, feeling as though he were intruding a little, cleared his throat. “I think I shall go in to the dancing in search of your daughter,” he said with a slight incline of his head. “Do excuse me.”
The earl nodded, and as Luke excused himself, he heard his father launch into conversation about his holdings overseas, delighted with the fact that the two families would soon be joined in matrimony.
Luke bit back a sigh, wandering onto the balcony and looking down at the swirling dancers below. He had always known that this day was coming, but he had tried his best to push it from his thoughts, hating the idea that he would soon be a married man. Whilst he had enjoyed his previous Seasons, complete with as much dancing and conversation as he had wanted, there had always been the thought in the back of his mind about his betrothed. He had never been allowed the freedom to find and court any eligible young lady he wished, despite the fact that he had found some of them more than a little delightful. There would never be that freedom for him. His life was mapped out for him.
Wandering along the balcony towards the staircase, Luke paused as he saw a young lady climb the staircase and make her way a little way along the balcony, choosing to sit down quietly in a seat in full view of all the dancers. Briefly, he wondered if she was here to wait for a gentleman to come in search of her, but on seeing where she sat, he dismissed that idea at once. She could be clearly seen by all those below, and given that she appeared to be a debutante, Luke did not think that she would damage her reputation in any way. Mayhap she was just a little tired after all the dancing and had chosen to take refuge up here, away from the crowd.
He paused, studying her for a moment. She was wearing a dress of pale blue, her dark brown hair coiled up at the back of her head with glittering jewels dotted all through it. Her high cheekbones gave her face something of an angular perspective, which was immediately softened by the tendrils of hair curling around her cheeks. She smiled as she watched the dancers, her lips curving gently. Her cheeks were a dusky pink, and as she smoothed her skirts, Luke was suddenly overcome with a desire to know her name.
She was very beautiful, with an elegance and grace about her that seemed to emanate from her. His heart quickened as he considered whether to introduce himself, despite the impropriety of it all. By rights, he should find someone who knew both himself and her and ask to be introduced, but that seemed such a ridiculous notion when it was just the two of them on the balcony. Besides, he did not particularly want anyone else’s company. He wanted this mysterious lady’s attention focused solely on him.
You are betrothed.
The thought cut him to the quick, making him struggle for breath. The truth was, it did not matter what her name was, nor how lovely her features were. He could not have any kind of relationship with her past a brief acquaintance. He would be married soon, and that would be that. Was there any point in introducing himself now? Did it really matter whether or not she knew his name and he hers?
His feet moved of their own accord, despite the questions flooding through his mind. He had to go to her regardless, suddenly desperate to become acquainted with her. Ignoring the doubts that plagued him, he straightened his jacket and made his way slowly along the balcony, his footsteps practically silent as the music from the orchestra began to play once more.
She did not have a partner for this dance. That was surprising, given her loveliness. Luke felt his heart quicken its pace as he came alongside her, seeing her look up at him in surprise, the gentle smile fading from her face. Her cheeks paled as though she were afraid he might accost her in some way, and wanting to calm such a thought, he bowed deeply and smiled at her.
“You are all alone?” he asked, not quite sure what he was meant to say. “I mean, might you wish for some company?”
“My lord,” she murmured, getting to her feet and stepping a little away from him. “We have not yet been introduced.”
He smiled, bowing as gracefully as he could. “I am well aware of that, my lady, but at times such as these, I find that we must push convention and propriety aside and simply introduce ourselves to one another without the aid of a third party.”
The lady blushed and looked away from him, clearly a little disenchanted by his idea.
“The only other thing we can do is to remain unintroduced,” he continued with a quick smile, as she looked in his direction. “Either way, I would very much like to speak with you for a time.”
Her eyes darted to his, and for a moment, he was unable to think of anything but those eyes. They were warm and yet filled with a caution that he wanted to take away from her. There was nothing to fear from him, nothing to concern herself about.
“I am only here for a short time,” the lady said eventually, sitting down in her chair once more. “I found the crush of the ballroom to be a little too great, and so I came here for a brief respite from it all.”
Glad that she appeared more relaxed, Luke smiled at her and walked a little further along the balcony so as to keep an appropriate distance between them. In addition, he made sure to stand directly behind a large, ornate plant so that his appearance might be somewhat hidden from anyone watching from below. He wanted to ensure that the lady’s reputation was protected.
“So, we are not to be introduced then?” he murmured with a quick smile. “Very well, my lady, may I ask if you are enjoying your time in London?”
“I am,” she replied, her eyes now lingering on the dancing below. “In truth, this is my very first ball.”
Luke lifted his eyebrows, a little surprised to hear it. She did not appear to be in the first flush of youth, but if this was her first ball, then she was clearly a debutante.
“My father has only, this year, been able to take us to London,” she continued, as though aware of his confusion. “I have been very much looking forward to it.”
A sharp awareness ran straight through him as he realized, that since this was her first ball, she would not have any particular suitors or the like. Not that it should matter to him, since he was betrothed. Still, he could not help but feel a thrill of delight over such a thing.
“Then I do hope the Season is everything you hope for,” he murmured, as she turned her head to look straight into his eyes.
She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes holding an interest that surprised him. “Do you not enjoy dancing, my lord?”
His smile spread across his face. “I do, of course, but I have to have the right partner for it to be enjoyable.”
“And what is the right partner?” she asked, with no guile whatsoever. “You must forgive me; I am quite unaware of such things. When I go out to dance, I simply hope that the gentlemen in question will not tread on my toes, and that I will recall all the steps correctly!”
Luke chuckled, his heart lifting as she smiled over at him. “That is a good dance partner, of course, but the best partner is one which makes you forget that you are dancing at all. You are so caught up in their company that the steps just come to you, with very little effort made to remember them.” His voice grew a little deeper, his words slowing as he saw the effect he was having on her. Her eyes were fixed on him, her mouth a little pursed as she considered what he said. Her cheeks were dusted with pink, making her all the more lovely. Luke felt his heart quicken as the desire to draw closer to her, to have her hand in his, began to overwhelm him.
She got to her feet, breaking the m
agic that was flowing between them.
“I had best return to the ballroom,” she murmured, suddenly unable to look at him directly. “My next partner will be looking for me, and I do not want him to be unable to find me.”
“No, of course not,” Luke replied, clearing his throat and standing up a little straighter. As she made to go past him, he stepped into her path, bowing at the waist. When he looked up, the lady was blushing profusely, and unable to help himself, he caught her hand and, raising it to his lips, pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand.
“I hope we are introduced very soon,” he said softly, as he raised his eyes to hers. “Thank you for conversing with me, my lady.”
For a long moment, she simply looked back at him, her mouth a little ajar as though the feelings sweeping through her were ones she did not recognize. And then, with a quick tug of her hand, she was gone from his side, her skirts in a flurry as she hurried down the stairs.
Luke did not return to the ballroom, choosing not to go in search of his betrothed. His mind was too caught up with the mysterious lady he had met on the balcony, his pulse still racing as he caught sight of her in the arms of another gentleman. How much he longed for that to have been him. But it was not to be.
He was being both ridiculous and unwise. He ought not to have given in to what he felt, ought to have ignored the sudden rush of awareness he had on seeing her. Yes, she was beautiful and—by all appearances—rather charming. However, he could not simply turn his back on his betrothed—and on his family—and chase after a lady who would not even give her name.
Giving himself a slight shake, Luke turned away from the twirling dancers, and after a moment of hesitation, he chose to leave the ball entirely. He would find his betrothed another evening.
4
Elizabeth smiled to herself as she walked leisurely towards the park, her maid trailing behind her. She had been up early, leaving her mother and father still abed, and certainly could not be confined to the house on a glorious day such as this! So, she had chosen to break her fast, dress, and hurry from the house, choosing to walk in the park that was only a short distance from her home.
It was early enough that there was barely a soul out walking the streets, although all the shopkeepers were busy setting up their stores for the day. She smiled and nodded at a few of them, thinking that she might stop by the bookshop and possibly search for a new ribbon or two on her return home. But, for the time being, she wanted nothing more than to be in the quiet and stillness of the park.
It obliged her. The moment she stepped in through the gates, the loveliness of the place overwhelmed her, the scent of the flowers rushing towards her as though greeting her in welcome. She smiled and drew in a long breath, her eyes closing for just a moment.
How beautiful it was.
Walking a little further into the park, Elizabeth took her time to admire the blooms, wishing she knew the names of them, before laughing at the ducks splashing in the pond. Aside from her maid, there was not anther soul in the place, which she found a rather pleasing fact. After the crush of yesterday’s ball, she found enjoyment in being alone.
Humming to herself, Elizabeth walked along the small, twisting path into a copse of trees, and finding a small bench, she sat down on it. The maid handed her the sketchbook and pencils she had brought with her, and under Elizabeth’s instruction, she sat down a little further away, giving Elizabeth all the space she required.
“It really is a very pretty vantage point,” Elizabeth murmured to herself, her pencil in her hand as she began to sketch the scene in front of her.
She had always enjoyed art, even though her watercolors were not as good as she wished them to be. Her drawing brought her a great deal of pleasure, even if no one ever saw her work. It was something she did that she could be proud of, particularly when a piece turned out very well. She was not quite sure whether or not she would paint this particular scene, but a sketch would do her for the time being.
As she drew, her mind filled with all that had gone on at the ball last evening. She had found it both delightful and overwhelming, as well as utterly exhausting—from all the dancing she was expected to do. That had been an experience in itself, for the gentlemen who had partnered her had varied greatly in both skill and conversation. Some had concentrated so hard on the steps that they had barely spoken a word to her, whilst others had been so free with conversation that they did not seem to even notice where they put their feet, with one gentleman standing on her toes.
She winced, wriggling her toes a little and finding them still painful. No, not all of them had been particularly good partners. Recalling what the mysterious gentleman had said to her about finding the best partner, Elizabeth smiled to herself as she continued to sketch, her heart lifting in her chest. That gentleman had been both good in conversation and handsome of face, even though she knew she ought not to let her thoughts linger on him. She was to be married soon, even if she had not seen her future husband in some years. There was very little point in continuing to think of the man on the balcony.
And yet, he had been so very handsome and clearly interested in her conversation, which she had appreciated. She had been a little silly to refuse to introduce herself without a third-party present, as was expected, but that did lend itself to a little more mystery. Elizabeth could not pretend that her heart had not quickened in her chest when he had smiled at her, nor that she had not felt heat rippling through her when he had pressed his lips to her hand. Even now, she could still feel the remnants of his actions rifling through her, making her aware of the desire coiling through her veins. She wanted to know the gentleman; she wanted to know his name and the kind of man he was.
“But that would be foolish, Elizabeth,” she said aloud, berating herself for allowing her thoughts to be caught up with him again. “You are to be betrothed. Stop being so foolish.”
“You are being foolish? In what way?”
With a small shriek that had her maid come running, Elizabeth turned her head to see none other than the mysterious gentleman from the night before coming towards her. With one hand on her heart, she waved her maid away with the other as she rose to greet him, her legs a little unsteady.
“I am terribly sorry; I did not mean to upset you,” he said at once, looking rather embarrassed. “I thought you had heard my horse approaching.”
Elizabeth’s gaze traveled past him to see a large, black stallion blowing hard through its nose, as it stood tethered to a tree branch. It did not take much notice of her, but it lowered its head to begin to eat the grass.
“I did not see you, nor hear you, but that often happens when I am drawing,” she explained, not quite sure what else to say.
He smiled at her, his eyes warming. “You draw?”
“Do not all young ladies?”
He chuckled then, his shoulders lifting in a slight shrug. “I suppose they do, but I find myself intrigued to see your work.”
Elizabeth shifted her gaze to her sketchbook sitting on the bench as she sat back down, feeling a little uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose….”
“You do not have to, of course,” he said quickly, evidently aware of her discomfort. “It is entirely at your discretion.”
Choosing to ignore her lack of confidence in herself, Elizabeth picked up her sketchbook and handed it to him. “I have just sketched the scene in front of me,” she murmured, hoping that her cheeks were not as hot as she felt they were. “I may add color later, when I return home, but I have not always enjoyed watercolors.” She kept her gaze on his face, growing desperate to know what he thought of her work. Elizabeth was surprised that such a strong urgency would rise within her, especially since this was only the second time she had met the gentleman in question. Much to her relief, he raised his eyebrows and looked over at her with a look of wonderment.
“My dear lady, you are remarkable!” he exclaimed, his eyes looking from the sketchbook to her and back again. “I am aware that it is expected for me
to share a compliment over a young lady’s work, but in this case, I find that I am struggling to find the words I need to tell you just how extraordinary this work is.”
Elizabeth felt herself blush. “You are very kind, my lord.”
He shook his head to himself again, looking back at her sketch, before handing her back the sketchbook.
“And will you still not give me your name?” he asked quietly, now standing directly in front of her. “Do we still require a third party to be so proper when we have not been conducting ourselves with all the propriety we can muster?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Elizabeth asked a little breathlessly. She felt her heart quickening a little, as she looked up at him, seeing his smile broaden, his eyes lighting with good humor.
“Nothing too incorrect, of course, but more the fact that we are having all kinds of conversations without even knowing one another’s names,” he replied, with a chuckle. “Does that not mean that we are, in fact, being terribly improper?”
“I suppose so,” Elizabeth replied, feeling both relieved and amused. “Then, given that it is so improper, I think we should end this conversation at once.”
The smile faded from his face and an earnest expression replaced it. “And yet I find that the very thought of doing such a thing wounds me grievously,” he murmured, coming to sit by her. Elizabeth felt her heart leap into her throat, aware of just how closely he sat by her. Her maid was doing her best not to look over at them, but even with her presence, Elizabeth was more than aware that this situation was not a wise one. To have a gentleman sitting so close to her, when they were practically the only two souls in the park, was extremely unwise.
But then again, they were the only two in the park, except for her maid. Surely, they would be able to see or hear anyone who approached, would they not? Was her reputation really as safe as she hoped?
“I have discomfited you, I think.”
His voice was warm, and as she looked over at him, she saw that his eyes were filled with anxiety.