by Joyce Alec
“What are you thinking?”
Lady Ellen’s question interrupted his worry, and he looked across to her, surprised to see a look of concern on her features.
“I am not quite sure,” he said honestly. “Lord Morton and I have already spoken of this matter, and I warned him to keep his mouth closed, but it appears he has not done so."
He saw Lady Ellen swallow hard, her fingers tightening as she clasped them together.
“I will find a way to keep him silent,” he promised, wishing he could reach across and take her hand in his in order to comfort her. “You need not worry, Lady Ellen, I promise you.”
She said nothing but looked back at him steadily.
“I know I am, yet again, asking you to trust me, which must be vastly difficult for you to do,” he finished, leaning back against the squabs and regarding her carefully. “I am sorry for the whole situation, Lady Ellen.”
“Yes, you have said as much multiple times,” she said sharply. “I do not require you to apologize again. What is done is done, Lord Hartley.” She looked at him steadily, with only a faint hint of concern playing around her mouth. “I think I have no other choice but to trust you with this. You will keep me informed, will you not?”
Relieved that she was, at least, speaking to him, and even more than that, agreeing to trust him with what could be a potentially difficult matter, George nodded fervently and gave her a half smile.
“Of course, I will, Ellen,” he said, dropping her formal title and inwardly wincing as he saw her frown. “You will still come to the ball with me tomorrow evening, I hope?”
She inclined her head, but turned her gaze out of the window, not mentioning his lack of proper address but appearing to accept that from him. George, letting out a long, slow breath of relief that he hoped she did not notice, rapped once on the roof of the carriage, and within a few minutes, he felt it rumble back across the cobbled streets of London.
“Thank you for joining me today, Ellen,” he said quietly, as the carriage came to a stop outside her house. “I trust you had a fairly pleasant afternoon.”
Her eyes lit on him for a moment, a slight puzzlement evident on her features. She said nothing, nor did she get out of the carriage. George, not knowing what to say, nor what was going on in her mind chose to sit quietly, simply allowing her to take as much time as she needed to work through whatever it was she was thinking.
“You are quite correct, Lord Hartley,” she said eventually.
“Correct?” George repeated, unsure about what she was referring to. “Correct about what?”
A faint pink brushed her cheeks, but she did not look away. “When we went into the gardens, you did attempt to prevent me,” she said slowly. “You did not want us to go, but I was the one who insisted. You did not kiss me, but it was I who reached for you first.”
George shook his head. “I am still guilty, my lady.”
“Oh, I know that,” she declared, with a slight toss of her head. “You are guilty of a great many things, but I have become aware of my own part in all of this. It is unfair of me to lay the entirety of the blame at your feet.” Her eyes darted away from him for a moment before catching his gaze again. “I think, in time, I may learn to trust you.”
Completely taken aback by Ellen’s sudden declaration, George stared at her for a long moment, before clearing his throat and trying to think of what to say in response.
“I should have insisted all the more firmly that we not go to the gardens,” he said quietly, aware of the somewhat strange look she was giving him. “I should have demanded that we remained indoors and certainly not given in to the strong desires swamping through me. My guilt and my shame in even the thought of pretending to be something I was not—simply in order to win a bet—will continue to weigh heavily on my shoulders for a long time to come. I can assure you of that.”
There was a brief pause, and much to his surprise, Ellen reached across and tentatively patted his hand.
“Thank you for listening to me, Hartley,” she said, lifting her hand away almost at once. “I will see you tomorrow evening.”
“I am already looking forward to it,” George stammered, finding himself fixed to his seat, as she gestured for the footman to open the door and stepped out without another word.
It was rudeness itself not to accompany her to the door, but George found that he could not so much as move. The footman shut the door, and the carriage was then rumbling on its way back toward his own home before he could instruct the driver to wait so that he might step out after Ellen.
It had been nearly two weeks since the disastrous night at the ball – and this was the first time Ellen had spoken to him with any kind of candor. It was as though she had simply needed time to consider all that had gone on between them, time to calm her anxious thoughts and think calmly about her future.
Whatever had happened, George was somewhat relieved that she was no longer as cold toward him as she had been. A small smile brushed across his lips, the first happiness he had felt in weeks settling across his soul. Perhaps everything might turn out satisfactorily after all.
15
Unfortunately, by the time the ball came around the following day, Lord Hartley had sent a note saying he had been entirely unable to locate Lord Morton. Ellen, who was now ready to go to Lord Hughes’ ball, felt rather nervous as she paced up and down the drawing room, waiting for his carriage to arrive.
“Oh, so you are ready after all!” her mother exclaimed, as she came into the room. “I must say, Ellen, you look positively beautiful this evening. I am sure Lord Hartley will appreciate the effort you have made.” She came closer and took Ellen’s hand in her own, catching her daughter’s complete attention. “I know you have found the last two weeks particularly trying, but it has been good to see you smiling again lately.”
Ellen looked up at her mother, surprised. “You think me less morose?”
“Indeed, I do,” her mother smiled, her expression soft. “Have you made much progress with Lord Hartley?”
Thinking of their carriage ride the previous afternoon, Ellen gave a small nod. “I think so.”
“I am very glad of it,” her mother declared. “I think it will all turn out rather well, my dear, so long as you do not bear him a grudge and find a way forward for you both.”
“I understand, Mama.”
Just as she spoke, there came a knock at the door, and Lord Hartley was announced. Ellen curtsied quickly as he bowed, a little annoyed to discover that her heart quickened at the sight of him. He was looking rather dashing, she had to admit, with his crisp white shirt and green cravat. His dark brown hair was neat, and his eyes held a hint of warmth as he smiled at her.
“I thought the color might match your eyes,” he said, evidently seeing her eyes linger on his cravat. “And I do think it is quite the right shade.”
A heat travelled up her spine, but Ellen straightened her shoulders and tried not to feel it. “You are very thoughtful, Lord Hartley.”
Her mother smiled and excused herself, claiming that she was going in search of her father to hurry him along. Of course, Ellen knew it was simply a ploy to give herself and Lord Hartley a few minutes alone, but to her surprise, she found that she rather appreciated it.
“You are looking very lovely this evening, my dear,” Lord Hartley murmured, his eyes somewhere near her toes, as though he were unsure as to whether or not she would accept his compliment. “Your beauty never ceases to astound me.”
This time, Ellen could not prevent the heat in her face from blooming. “Thank you, Hartley,” she replied, dropping his formal title. “I think this evening will be quite enjoyable.”
He blinked, as though surprised that she was not as upset with him as she had been, and Ellen sighed inwardly, aware that she was going to have to explain herself a little more. She had tried to say a few things in the carriage the previous afternoon, but it had not been enough. If she was to be honest with him, then this was her opportu
nity.
“George,” she began, seeing the astonishment on his face, as she tried out his Christian name. “I know that we have a great deal to work through together, but I will be honest with you and say that I have come to something of an understanding about my own behavior.”
“I see,” he replied, his voice quiet. “And what is that?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Ellen gave him a small smile. “It is the fact that I allowed my own desires and hopes to push me into a situation that ended badly,” she admitted. “I said before that I had an affection for you, and it was that which drove me to insist on a walk in the gardens.” She did not mention that she had kissed him first, finding it difficult enough to speak to him so candidly. “You have asked me to trust you, and I think that it is now becoming apparent that I must do so. I have no choice but to believe you when you say that it was your intention that night to tell me all.”
He nodded fervently, drawing closer to her. “It was, my dear Ellen,” he said, in a low voice. “I knew it would push you away from me for good, but I could not allow myself to continue with such a façade, not when I was losing my heart to you.”
His profession of love had her breath catching in her chest, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find the words to say.
“I know that this is still an unfortunate circumstance, but I will confess that I cannot help but have a little happiness in the knowledge that I am marrying the lady I have come to love,” he continued, his hand reaching out for hers, and Ellen found herself taking it automatically. “You may never feel the same as you did before, but I profess my love for you, Ellen. You are the reason that I wanted to put my past life behind me for good, the reason that I am now striving to be the very best kind of man I can be. I wanted to tell you the truth then, so that I would not bring you any kind of harm, and yet I could not hide my desire for you. I kissed you because it was the fulfilment of all that I wanted. My marriage to you will be the happiest day I have ever known – and it will be all the happier if you are able to find it within yourself to begin to trust me again.”
Ellen swallowed twice, trying to rid herself of the sudden ache in her throat. His words were heavy with truth, the look in his eyes one of honesty and hope. “I forgive you for what you did,” she said hoarsely. “My mother told me that you accepted all the blame when you spoke to my father when you could easily have told him the truth about my part in all this. You protected me from shame and did all you could to shoulder the responsibility. It was not all your doing, George. I accept my own actions for what they were.”
He shook his head, his expression serious. “You cannot know what that means to me, Ellen,” he replied softly. They looked at one another for a long moment, the silence between them growing thick.
Slowly, Hartley lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the palm of her hand. Since she did not yet have her gloves on, Ellen felt every part of it, her heart threatening to burst from her chest.
In forgiving him, a burden had rolled from her shoulders, clearing her heart of the some of the lingering pain. It was as though she could now see the way forward, the path lit with a delicate light. A path that, should she allow it to, would lead her into love.
16
“Are you sure you are all right?”
Lady Ellen pressed his hand and smiled, a peaceful look in her eyes as she turned her gaze toward him.
“You need not worry, George. I am quite at ease.”
The ball had been going on for an hour or so and, as yet, Lord Morton had not said a word—although George had seen him wandering in amongst the guests. George had done his best to relax, but still felt himself filled with tension as the evening progressed.
He could not explain how relieved he had been that Lady Ellen had spoken so openly with him, the happiness he felt swelling his heart with affection for her. Despite their difficult start, George now had confidence that their marriage could be a happy one, which was more than he had ever hoped for. Lady Ellen’s honesty had opened that door for them both. To have her on his arm now gave him such a sense of pride and contentment that he felt as though no one on the face of the earth had ever been as happy as he was.
And yet, despite that, there was still a slowly rising tension over Lord Morton’s presence.
“I think it will be our second dance very soon,” he murmured, as Lady Ellen turned to face him a little more, her eyes bright. “The waltz.”
“The waltz,” she repeated, a small smile spreading across her face. “I believe I am even looking forward to being in your arms, Lord Hartley, if you can believe it.”
He swallowed at the look in her eyes, forgetting all about Lord Morton for the moment. “You are quite wonderful, Ellen,” he said on a breath, his heart and mind reacting to the thought of holding her close against him. “I cannot quite believe we have made it to this point.”
Her smile broadened, and she looked to be ready to say more, only for a loud, overly cheerful voice to break into their quiet conversation.
“Ah look, tis Lord Hartley and his dearly loved betrothed, Lady Ellen.”
George set his shoulders as Lord Morton’s voice rang out from across the ballroom, just as the orchestra’s music came to a close. A great many guests turned their heads to see who it was making such a fool of themselves, and George felt Lady Ellen go rigid, as she took his hand in hers, holding it behind her as she turned to face Lord Morton.
“Lord Morton,” George grated, as the man approached. “I have been looking for you.”
Lord Morton appeared to be rather drunk, which did not come as a surprise to George. His friend had always had a penchant for liquor.
“Looking for me, eh?” Lord Morton replied, eyeing George with one raised eyebrow. “And why is that?”
George felt Lady Ellen’s hand tighten on his but did not stop himself from speaking bluntly.
“Because I have heard from a close and trusted friend that you have been dragging my betrothed’s name through the mud, Morton,” he stated calmly, aware of the small crowd now beginning to form around him. “I came to warn you to stop, or it shall be all the worse for you.”
Morton sneered at him, his lip curling. “You think you are such a fine gentleman now, do you not, Hartley? We used to be such great friends, you and I, taking our pleasures wherever we wished it and not taking anything too seriously. Now, here you are, engaged to Lady Ellen and pretending to all that you are, in fact, happy with this arrangement. I know full well that you despise the very idea of matrimony.”
Well aware that Lord Morton would be easily able to stain Lady Ellen’s reputation if he said anything more, George stepped forward, letting go of Lady Ellen’s hand.
“Lord Morton,” he said, firmly and loud enough for everyone else to hear. “Let me be perfectly clear. I am more than delighted with my forthcoming marriage to Lady Ellen. She is the perfect lady and will make me the proudest man in all of London on the day she takes my name. I was once as you describe, but it has been her very presence that has brought about this change in me. I will never turn back to my old ways, I promise you. Lady Ellen has stolen my heart, and I consider myself more than blessed to call her my betrothed and—one day—my wife. It is only unfortunate that you do not understand matters of the heart, for then you would be less willing to make a fool of yourself.”
The murmurs all around him told George that his words had made quite an impact on the crowd, but he did not look away from Lord Morton. He prayed silently that the man would choose to remain silent, given that it would be in his own best interests to do so, but—unfortunately—it appeared that Lord Morton was not yet finished.
“I know what I saw,” Lord Morton hissed. “It was she who pressed her attentions on you, she who was desperate for you to go to her. I know that—”
George did not hesitate but grasped Lord Morton’s collar and hauled him up, cutting off his speech.
“That is quite enough, Morton!” he exclaimed, as the gasp
s of the audience met his ears. “I have already warned you about speaking falsehoods about Lady Ellen, and I will endure them no more. Name your seconds. We duel this very night. I shall see you in the gardens in half an hour. I trust you brought your blade with you.”
Letting go of Lord Morton, George kept his gaze trained on him, as he saw Lord Morton’s face pale. Evidently the man had not expected him to follow through with his threat, but George had every intention of keeping Lady Ellen’s honor intact.
“It is in my carriage,” Lord Morton muttered, as the silence in the room grew in anticipation.
“Half an hour,” George replied firmly, before turning on his heel and walking away from Lord Morton with Lady Ellen on his arm.
“George,” she whispered frantically, clinging to him. “You cannot do this.”
“I must, my dear,” he replied, patting her hand, as they walked up the staircase together and ignoring the whispers that followed them. “I will not have your reputation damaged in any way, and Lord Morton knows that. I gave him ample warning, and it was his choice to ignore that. It shall be swords, and I shall win, never fear. I know Lord Morton well, and his skill in that area is severely lacking.”
Lady Ellen looked up at him, as they came to the balcony, standing quietly together for a few moments. George knew that Ellen’s parents would soon come in search of her, and he did not want to hide her away from them. Yet, he found himself needing to stay away from the crowd below.
“I shall have to fetch my sword,” George murmured, as she took her hand from his arm. “You need not fear for me, Lady Ellen. I will not lose, and I certainly will not kill him.”
She shook her head, her eyes glassy. “I do not want you to do this, George.”
“I must,” he replied, gently, lifting her chin with one finger. “I cannot allow anyone to put a stain on your reputation.”