Gentlemen and Brides: Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  “I realize that I do not know him particularly well,” Elizabeth said, as they resumed walking together. “What you said to me yesterday about him surprised me greatly.”

  Lord Parke nodded. “Of course, I quite understand.”

  “Do you truly not know where he has gone?” Elizabeth asked, aware that she sounded rather desperate. “I am at such a loss as to what to do.”

  “My dear Lady Elizabeth, if you would like my advice, then I will give it freely.” Dark eyes met hers, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Elizabeth nodded.

  “Then I will tell you now that you need to break off your engagement to Lord Mallon,” Lord Parke declared firmly. “He is not a man worthy of your affection and dedication, not when he will not return it in kind. He is a man who likes to keep his true nature very well hidden, but I have discovered it nonetheless.” He looked over at her and held out his arm and Elizabeth found herself taking it without hesitation, as if aware she might need the support.

  “Lord Mallon has a penchant for beautiful ladies, you understand,” Lord Parke continued gently. “He is a rake, but hides it well.”

  “A rake?” Elizabeth whispered, feeling as though a heavy weight had settled in her stomach.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” Lord Parke continued. “Before he left, he paid some of his debts but left many more. He is a poor cheat and his creditors are already seeking him so that they might take what little he has left.”

  Elizabeth felt tears sting at her eyes. “But his father…”

  “His father knows nothing of this,” Lord Parke said softly. “Mallon has done a remarkable job in keeping it all from him, whilst I have been forced to lend him money simply to keep his creditors at bay until next quarter, when more of his income comes to him.”

  “I do not understand,” Elizabeth whispered, one hand over her heart as though she might soothe it somehow. “This is not the man I thought he was.”

  Lord Parke patted her hand sympathetically. “And yet you told me that you did not know him very well at all.”

  That was the truth, and Elizabeth could not hide from it. “I thought I knew him a little,” she admitted, her head dropping. “We were to court, just as any other lady and gentleman might, so that we could know one another better.” She did not know why she was telling Lord Parke all this, as though he had somehow become her confidante and friend after such a short acquaintance. The words came tumbling from her mouth, the pain in her heart pushing them out into the open. Lord Parke patted her hand again and walked in silence for some time, allowing her to catch her breath.

  “I am residing at his home for a time,” Lord Parke said softly, after they had turned back to return Elizabeth to her parents’ house. “Should you like to join me for a dinner next week?”

  Elizabeth looked up at him, seeing the sympathy and compassion in his eyes, and felt her heart lift a little from the despair it was resting in. “You are very kind, Lord Parke. I am sure if you write to my mother she would be more than glad to accept.”

  “And might I call on you again before then?” he asked, stopping in his walk so that he might look at her. “I can see your pain and confusion, and I wish to do all I can to aid you in that.”

  Elizabeth hesitated, wondering if there was any more behind his question. She was still betrothed to Lord Mallon, despite his terrible behavior, and she did not think that being courted by his cousin was a particularly wise idea.

  “Mayhap Lord Mallon is not the right husband for you,” Lord Parke said, his gaze filling with intensity. “I will not pretend that I do not have a great deal of sympathy for you, Lady Elizabeth, nor will I pretend that your beauty does not take my breath away. It is for both of these reasons that I wish to call on you again.”

  His honesty was a breath of fresh air, and despite her sorrow, Elizabeth managed to smile. “You may call upon me, Lord Parke. However, I must be clear that I intend to keep my engagement to Lord Mallon, despite his behavior. There will be only a friendship between us, one I am sure I will relish when I marry into the family. My loyalty still remains with Lord Mallon.”

  “But of course,” he murmured, with a slight bow.

  “That does not mean that I do not appreciate your consideration of me, Lord Parke. I am sure we shall become good friends. I look forward to your next visit.”

  The smile on his face grew so quickly that Elizabeth worried he had not quite taken in what she had said. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed at once, his eyes bright.

  “And perhaps Lord Mallon will return to London so that he might join us.”

  The smile on his face did not disappear, only faded a little. “I am afraid to say that I doubt that will occur. However, perhaps in time, you might find yourself no longer engaged,” he replied with a slight lift of his eyebrow. “Mayhap in time you will find yourself free, with your own ability to choose a suitor for yourself. What a wonderful day that would be.”

  Aware of what he was saying and not quite sure how to respond, Elizabeth simply smiled and turned back to walk along the path, quickly joined by Lord Parke. The rest of the way home, they talked of things other than Lord Mallon, with Lord Parke declaring that he would take her to whichever bookshop she wished when he discovered her love of prose.

  The afternoon had been a difficult one in terms of what she had learned about Lord Parke, but yet, there had been a small spark of enjoyment. Lord Parke had good conversation, was kind and compassionate, and brought some joy to what was a very trying situation. Elizabeth had to acknowledge that she appreciated that.

  When Lord Parke took his leave, Elizabeth’s smile was a genuine one. When he asked to take her to the bookshop the following afternoon, she hesitated for only a moment before agreeing. There could be no harm in such a thing. Also, she decided she might be able to discover more about the Lord Mallon’s character, the man she was still engaged to marry.

  12

  “Your correspondence, my lord.”

  “Thank you,” Luke murmured, his stomach tightening as he took the three letters from the silver tray. “And get me a fresh pot of coffee, will you? I think I will need to drink much more if I am to feel in the least bit refreshed.”

  “At once, my lord,” the butler intoned before quitting the room.

  Luke looked down at the letters in his hand, unease swirling. It had been two weeks since he had come to his father’s country seat, and still, he had heard nothing from Lady Elizabeth.

  His agony grew with each passing day. He could not understand why she had not responded, finding it both puzzling and upsetting. He had been distraught over his father’s accident. Although, thankfully, he was now recovering very well. The fact that Lady Elizabeth appeared not to care about either the marquess or himself, brought him additional pain.

  She had appeared to be so sweet, so gentle, so kind-natured, even though he would not say that he knew her particularly well. Perhaps appearances had been deceiving. Perhaps she was not the lady he thought. His heart ached over the possibility, wanting desperately to believe that there had been some kind of mishap that had prevented her from contacting him.

  As he thumbed through his three letters, he saw that, yet again, there was no note from his betrothed. His heart sank, and for a moment, he put his head in his hands, the letters fluttering to the floor.

  At least his father had regained consciousness, and whilst still quite weak, was improving every day. Luke had to be thankful for that; he had to focus on the fact that his father was not about to die. What a worrying time it had been for him. He had felt drained of energy, hardly sleeping and barely eating, and with no support from anyone other than the butler and his father’s faithful servants. A note from Lady Elizabeth would have been a balm to his soul, knowing that she was thinking of them both, praying for them both.

  There had only been silence.

  Picking up the letters, Luke opened one after the other, finding nothing of particular interest in the first two. However, the third was from Lord Parke, and thi
s he found to be of particular interest.

  ‘My dear Lord Mallon,’ he read. ‘I write to ask you how your very dear father is fairing. I apologize that I have not written prior to now, but I was traveling home and ensuring that all was in order when I returned. Rest assured that everything you asked me to do was done before I left. I do hope and pray that the marquess makes a full recovery. Your cousin, Parke.’

  Luke read the letter three times before he finally let it drop onto the table in front of him. Parke had said he had done all that Luke had asked, and the most important thing Luke had requested was that Parke hand the note to Lady Elizabeth and no other.

  Clearly, he had done just that.

  So why had she not written to him at once? Even if she cared nothing for him, the fact that they were betrothed meant that he would expect her to write to him even only a few short lines. But the fact that she had not written a single thing brought him nothing but sadness and confusion.

  Lord Parke, at least, was gone from London. That meant that he had nothing to worry about in regard to his London townhouse. The house, the staff, and the like would be waiting for him whenever he decided to return—if he decided to return.

  The thought made him frown. He would have to go back at some point and meet Lady Elizabeth again. It was not as though he could simply forget about his betrothed, even if she now appeared to be uncaring and self-centered. The truth was, however, that he did not want to go back, feeling as though the lady he was to marry was not the delightful creature he had believed her to be. The memory of the heated kiss he had shared with her was now tainted. He was now wondering if the passion he had felt from her had been genuine. How much did he really know about her?

  Throwing the letters aside, Luke muttered to himself darkly and began to pace up and down the drawing room. He recalled how his father had insisted that Lady Elizabeth be allowed to enjoy the Season before they made the official announcement of their engagement. At the time, he had not thought much of it, but now he began to wonder whether or not Lady Elizabeth wanted to do more than just enjoy the dancing and conversation. What if she sought the attention of as many gentlemen as she could, wanting to be adored and fawned over? Recalling how she had been the first time he had laid eyes on her, hiding in the balcony so as to rest from the crush of the crowd, Luke could not help but think that she had been looking for whichever gentlemen she could next get her claws into.

  That would mean she was a very different lady from the one he had thought her to be. She had appeared almost shy, determined to be introduced to him properly, but what if that had all been a façade, a way to draw a gentleman’s attention?

  The only way he would know would be to return to London and find out the truth. He might not even let her know that he was returning, using the surprise of his return to catch her in whatever it was she was doing.

  That gave him a kind of grim satisfaction, and as he began to slow his pace, Luke determined that this would be his next course of action—just as soon as his father was recovered.

  Luke walked quietly into his father’s bedchamber, worried as to what he might see. It had been a fortnight since his father had been taken to the estate after his accident, and he had still yet to rise from his bed.

  Much to Luke’s surprise, his father was sitting up in bed, pillows behind him and a large breakfast tray in front of him. He welcomed Luke with a broad smile, his mouth full of scrambled egg.

  “Come in, come in!” his father exclaimed, with a firmness to his voice that surprised Luke all the more. “I am feeling a great deal better today.”

  Luke hurried towards his father’s bed, a swell of relief rushing through him. “You look much brighter, Father.”

  “I feel much brighter,” his father replied with a chuckle. “It is as though I woke this morning with a new-found strength. I cannot quite say how it happened, but I am truly delighted.”

  “And the cook has made all your favorite dishes,” Luke said, with a lift of his eyebrow. “She must have known you were hungry.”

  His father chuckled. “One of the benefits of coming back from near death, I believe.”

  Luke let out a long breath, planting his hands on the side of the bed and dropping his head. His father might be able to joke about such matters, but he had been terrified at the thought of losing him.

  “You have been through a great deal,” his father said gently. “I am sorry for that.”

  “You need not be sorry!” Luke exclaimed, his head shooting up. “It was not exactly your fault that the carriage tipped.”

  His father held his gaze steadily. “And you came as soon as you heard, no doubt.”

  Luke frowned. “You do not remember?”

  Shaking his head, the marquess’s lips tightened. “I only remember a great deal of pain, and somewhere in the midst of it all, your voice.”

  “Then yes, I came the moment I heard,” Luke confirmed. “I had to leave Parke back in London, but he should be gone by now.”

  “And your betrothed?”

  Luke’s stomach tightened. “I wrote her a note before I left and asked Parke to deliver it. I gave her this address and begged her to write to me. Thus far, I have had no response.”

  His father’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his hand hesitating as he lifted his cup to his mouth. “No response?”

  “None,” Luke said firmly. “I have heard nothing from her, and I will admit to being a little disappointed.”

  “As you have every right to be,” his father murmured, studying him carefully. “Have you written to her again, since you have been home?”

  A little ashamed of his own foolishness, Luke shook his head. “No. I suppose I wanted her to write to me first, so I could be assured of her concern and affections.”

  “Her affections?” his father repeated, looking rather surprised. “I did not realize that you had any kind of feeling for the lady.”

  Aware that he had never told his father about his and Elizabeth’s previous meetings, Luke simply shrugged. “There has been something between us, Father. That is all I will say. At least, I thought there was.” He frowned heavily, rubbing one hand over his forehead, as he tried to get his thoughts in order. “I have been caught up in worry about you and concern for Lady Elizabeth’s lack of response. Although, of course, my thoughts have turned mostly to you. Now, however, my concern and upset grows all the more. Why has she not responded to me?”

  “Is it possible that she did not receive your note?” his father asked with a small shrug. “Letters do go missing.”

  “No, there is no chance of that,” Luke replied firmly. “I gave the note to Parke, and he promised he would deliver it. After what I did for him in getting him out of a tight spot, I have very little doubt that he would do just as I asked.”

  His father held Luke’s gaze for a moment. “Then might I suggest that you do what you should have done long ago and write to her again. I have her father’s address in town if you require it.”

  Luke shook his head. “It is quite all right; I have it already.”

  “Foolish boy,” his father continued, with a tenderness Luke had not expected. “A lady is already allowing your head to spin, and here I was thinking that an arrangement such as this would spare you all that.” He chuckled, patting Luke’s hand. “It seems I was quite wrong.”

  Luke could not help but give his father a wry smile, his heart lifting from the despair it had been immersed in for many days. “You are quite right, you know. I shall write to her this very day.” He took in the color in his father’s cheeks, the brightness of his eyes. “Do you think you shall rise out of bed today? Do you have the strength?”

  The marquess’s eyes gleamed. “I have every intention of joining you in the drawing room within the hour,” he declared with a determination that had Luke smiling. “Go on with you now. Write that note and have a tea tray and a warm fire waiting for me in the drawing room.”

  Squeezing his father’s hand for just a moment, Luke nodded, a
nd with a glad smile at his father’s drastic improvement, he quit the room.

  13

  “Lady Elizabeth, might I again say just how lovely you appear this afternoon.”

  Elizabeth smiled and nodded, accepting the compliment, but finding no rush of heat or any kind of indication that she felt anything for the man calling on her again. It had been some weeks since his first visit, and whilst their acquaintance had continued, she felt nothing for him. Her mother, of course, had been quick to point out that it would be good to continue her association with Lord Parke in order to find out what she could about Lord Mallon, but she had warned Elizabeth to be careful of the man. She had not needed to say that to Elizabeth, who was already more than careful of her reputation.

  “Thank you, Lord Parke,” she murmured with a quick smile. “I did have a very enjoyable afternoon.”

  They had walked together, along with Elizabeth’s maid, to the bookshop that Lord Parke insisted they visit. Elizabeth had found it dusty and full of old, decrepit books, but that had not prevented her from enjoying the visit. They had also enjoyed a rather intense discussion on the merits of both prose and poetry—and had not yet managed to come to a satisfactory conclusion. Although Elizabeth had found most of what he had said to be very interesting and concise.

  Lord Parke was a clever man, well-educated and with an amicability about him that made it very easy for Elizabeth to think of him as a friend. However, the only thing that unsettled her was his continuing compliments, as though he hoped for something more between them when she was still engaged to Lord Mallon. He continued to tell her how wonderful she was, how beautiful she was, and she struggled to find any kind of reply other than to thank him for his compliments.

  She did not return them—for fear that he would believe there was an affection for him in her heart when the truth was that there was nothing there of that kind. She was growing appreciative of his company and conversation, but the more she thought of it, the more she wished he would stop admiring her in such an attentive way. Perhaps it had been a mistake to allow him to call on her, for he had done so on three separate occasions before taking her to the bookshop. Never once had he mentioned his cousin. Lord Mallon appeared not to have written to him even a short note during his absence, so Elizabeth still had very little idea of where he had gone.