by Joyce Alec
“He is now betrothed to your sister,” Anthony replied gently.
“Yes, yes,” Eliza replied, getting to her feet. “And I wished them both a lifetime of happiness. It appears that they have longed for each other for a while, but John’s attention to propriety was all that was hindering him.” She gazed at him, her hands on her hips, exasperated by the muddle they were in. “Anthony, I must ask why you lied to me. You made a fool of me, and I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me your true identity when we first met.”
“Eliza, you must forgive me on that account as well,” answered Anthony. “I only hid my identity so you would open up to me about how the guests truly felt about me. I did not expect to fall in love with you.”
Eliza thought about his confession, and said, “Well, things would have turned out much differently if I did know your true identity. I would never have opened up to you, and I certainly wouldn’t have told you of my troubles.” She looked Anthony in the eyes, “But, you must promise never to tell falsehoods again.”
Anthony got to his feet, making his way towards her. “I promise. I will always tell you the truth, even if it’s something you don’t want to hear. Oh, Eliza, I have been such a fool,” he confessed, holding out his hand. “If only I had asked you before coming to my conclusions about you and Lord Stockton, I might have spared us both this heartache.”
Eliza glanced down at his open hand and then back up into his face. Anthony had asked for her forgiveness, and she was willing to give it. She loved him too much to hold a grudge, taking his hand in her own. “I waited for you in the woods yesterday morning,” she said quietly. “I wanted to confess something to you.”
“What was that?” Anthony asked, his hands now slowly sliding around her waist.
“I wanted to confess my love for you,” she whispered. “Gardener or not, I know that my heart belongs to you.”
“And you hold mine,” Anthony replied, lowering his head. Their kiss was soft and sweet, both a promise of love and a giving of forgiveness.
THE END
A Lady’s Reluctant Heart
A Lady’s Reluctant Heart
Text Copyright © 2018 by Caroline Johnson
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2017
Publisher
Love Light Faith, LLC
400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311
www.LoveLightFaith.com
1
England, 1846
“Mama! Mama!”
The familiar annoyed voice made the duchess close her book with a sigh as her fingers moved to her temples to massage them.
“One day my nerves will get the better of me and these two will be left to shout at the walls,” she told her brother, who shook his head in amusement.
A door slammed in the distance and the sound of stomping became louder and louder until a fair-haired girl barged into the room, wearing a very prominent scowl. “Mama, tell Lizzie that she cannot claim the first dance with Lord Deering. She just wants him because I do and it is just not fair!” Isobel stamped her foot on the ground in frustration.
Another young girl glided into the room and shrugged in a dainty manner. “Too bad. Do get over it, my dear, and stop making such a fuss. The servants are starting to gawk.”
As her sister picked up the book her mother had just put down, Isobel clenched her fists. “Be quiet, Lizzie! Mama!”
The duchess gave a pleading look to her brother, who sighed and stood up. “Why don’t you and I take a walk, Isobel? And let us see if we cannot sort through this mess.”
Isobel looked at her quietly smirking sister and then at her uncle. Gritting her teeth, she bit out, “I’ll get my bonnet.”
As soon as Isobel exited, the duchess looked at her oldest, disapprovingly. “Really, Lizzie? Lord Deering? What has gotten into you?”
Lizzie made a sound. “I cannot help it. He saw me whilst I was out riding and he asked me. How could I say no? I did not wish him to think my manners were poor. Besides, Isobel’s reaction amused me.” She made a face at the book and handed it back to her mother, “I’ve read this one. I did not approve of the ending.”
Her mother put the book on her lap and shook her head. “Must you tease your sister so?”
“Why should I not? She makes it so easy, Mama. I cannot help it.” Lizzie sat on the seat by the window and picked up her sewing. “Besides, I want Papa to come back. I am so very bored.”
The duchess looked on disapprovingly. “You are the daughter of a duke and duchess. I find it hard to believe that you find the time to be bored, darling.”
Lizzie just made a noncommittal sound and focused on her task. Lord Deering was too old for Isobel. The duchess was so determined that both her daughters make a good match that she had forgotten that Isobel needed someone who could temper that energy inside of her. Lord Deering seemed hardly the person for that. Lizzie planned on making sure Lord Deering stayed far away from her sister. She’d play with him like she had done with many others, and then toss him aside. Isobel would find the perfect match. After what Lizzie had experienced, she was determined to guide Isobel to a man who would treat her well.
Lizzie turned her head, watched her sister walk in a very unladylike manner and nearly snorted. She would make a lady of Isobel yet.
When Uncle James returned with a calmer niece, Lizzie rang the bell for tea, and as Isobel left to freshen up, her sister followed her.
“What?” Isobel asked in a sullen manner, as she sat down at her dressing table. A maid was waiting to fix Isobel’s hair.
“Leave us. I’ll do that,” Lizzie ordered the maid.
“Very good, m’lady.” The fresh-faced maid hurried out of the room.
“Why did you do that?” Isobel turned around in annoyance.
“Oh, hush now!” Lizzie undid Isobel’s curls and started setting them again. “Have you seen Lord Wentworth’s nephew?”
Frowning, Isobel played with the pins on the table, her fingers restless. “Which one? Lord Wentworth has relatives all over England.”
Grinning, Lizzie pinned up another curl. “The one who could not take his eyes off you during the ball last night.”
Isobel’s fingers stilled. “Why didn’t he ask me to dance?”
“Maybe he was too shy or perhaps you just did not give him the opportunity to ask. You should look for him today. He seemed quite taken with you.” Lizzie chuckled. “I nearly missed a step when I was dancing with Sir Bale.”
Isobel made a face. “Why? So that you can take him from me like you did Lord Deering?” She yelped when Lizzie pulled on her curls in reprimand.
“Lord Deering is practically ancient. He might just fall asleep while dancing.”
That made Isobel giggle against her will. “He is not that old. Granted, he may have a few gray hairs, but all distinguished suitors do these days.”
Lizzie met her sister’s eyes in the mirror, seriously. “Is that what you want? Do you want to tie yourself down to a boring old man? You will be bored to death, darling.”
“Then why did you accept his invitation to dance?”
Lizzie raised her brow. “Because Lord Deering is looking for a young wife whom he can control.” She tightened her hands on Isobel’s shoulders. “I will not let that be you.”
As they exited the room, her sister asked, “What if he decides he wants to marry you? I heard Lady Frederica asking Uncles James about whether you plan to accept a marriage proposal. Soon there won’t be any eligible men left, Lizzie. You keep turning every s
uitor away.”
Lizzie grinned. “Do not worry about me.”
2
A ball was taking place at Lord Deering’s. Lizzie and Isobel greeted friends and acquaintances with plastered smiles. Being that they were the daughters of the Duke and Duchess of Wellington, many people sought their attention. As always, Isobel and Lizzie were expected to be on their best behavior. After an exhausting hour of niceties, the sisters found a hidden corner and let themselves breathe.
“I do say. If one more old lady asks me whether Lord Barton and I are to be married, I might very well take off this shoe and start hitting her with it.”
Lizzie’s remark had been meant for her flushed sister’s ears only, but she heard a low, barely audible chuckle. When she looked around, there seemed to be no one paying attention to them. She chalked it up to her annoyed mood. The moment was immediately forgotten when her eyes found a young man approaching them from the side.
Smiling at him, Lizzie murmured to Isobel, “It seems that charming young man over there has an interest in you. I have been watching him work up the courage to approach you since we arrived.”
Isobel’s eyes darted to where she was looking, and to Lizzie’s amusement, the younger girl blushed. “He is very attractive,” she managed.
“Good evening,” Lizzie said as the man approached
The young man bowed quickly and spoke in a deep voice. “Good evening. I am Sir Charles Wentworth. I believe we were introduced last week.”
“Sir Charles, of course. Yours is a hard face to forget. How do you find the ball tonight?”
The man smiled. “I do not find it lacking pretty girls, but I believe I may have found the most beautiful girl in the room yet. Could I ask you for a dance, Lady Isobel?”
Isobel blushed, “Your words are very kind, Sir Charles. I would be honored to have this dance.”
As Sir Charles held her hand, he flashed a charming smile. “Then would it be too bold to claim the next dance as well?”
Isobel gave him a look from under her lashes. “Let us see how you fare on the first dance.” With that she was led away as Lizzie watched on with a smile.
She had forgotten her predicament however, when Lord Deering found her. From his breath, she could tell that he was on the verge of being drunk.
“Good evening, Lady Elizabeth. You look lovely. I believe you promised me a dance.”
She smiled at him. “I believe I did.”
She did not dislike dancing, but Lord Deering’s incessant stumbling was too much. She could not find any joy in the music, in her partner, or in dancing. “Perhaps we should stop, Lord Deering, you seem unwell.”
“Nonsense, Lady Elizabeth. I am as fit as a horse,” he stammered.
She wondered if she should tell him that it was ‘fit as a fiddle’, but decided against it. The man was determined to dance. When the dance ended, she slipped away and didn’t wait for Lord Deering to escort her back to her seat. Isobel was still with her young man. He seemed totally entranced.
“True love. What a joke,” Lizzie said out loud without realizing her inner thoughts had crossed her lips.
“I’ll drink to that,” spoke a familiar male voice. Lizzie looked up to see a tall man sipping on his drink standing next to her.
“Do I know you?” questioned Lizzie, annoyed with the man’s unwelcome conversation.
“We haven’t been introduced.” He gave a short bow. “My name is Matthew Adams. You were dancing with my cousin, if you call what he did dancing.”
Lizzie stood up. “I feel he was not so well.”
“Or he was drunk,” Matthew offered.
“He is your cousin. Should you really be saying that?” Lizzie asked. His lack of manners was almost unforgivable.
“Why? Will you hit me with your shoe?”
Lizzie looked at him intently. “I knew someone had been listening to me. You do realize eavesdropping is very rude.”
“It was not by choice, I assure you. However, it was a sight I would have enjoyed.”
Lizzie was accustomed to presenting a polite, delicate, and cool front to the world and yet this man, this stranger, had seen her for who she was. He had seen her without her playing her role. It was unsettling.
“I did not mean it.”
Matthew continued to sip his drink, his eyes on the new dancers, “I believe you did. Isn’t that your sister?”
“Yes, Lady Isobel.”
Matthew studied her. “You like playing matchmaker. I did not take you for that.”
Annoyed, Lizzie glanced at him. “You do not even know me.”
Her companion gave her a cool, irritating smile. “That is a very good point, Lady Elizabeth. Why don’t you allow me to get to know you?”
“I have a feeling I might regret it, so thank you, but no. Please excuse me, Mr. Adams.” With that, Lizzie walked away to an amused pair of eyes.
So, this was Lady Elizabeth Ellis. He had no idea she was so wild. This chase was going to be invigorating.
3
“I think he was absolutely charming.” Lizzie smiled distractedly as Isobel went on and on about Sir Charles.
The duchess smiled. “What about Lord Deering, dear? I believe you were infatuated with him just last week.”
“Oh, Mama, do keep up. Lord Deering is too old.” She bounced in her seat excitedly. “Sir Charles has an estate in Hampshire, and he said that if we ever go that way, we should write to him.”
“Calm down, love. He seems to be a fine young man and he is a relation of the Marquess of York. I do approve, but do not be so hasty. I would hate to see your reputation in jeopardy.”
Lizzie’s feelings were hurt as her mother muttered the words about a reputation in jeopardy. The duchess quickly looked over at Lizzie, realizing her mistake. Lizzie smiled at her mother to let her know that she was all right. The duchess relaxed.
Lizzie quickly moved the conversation forward. “Let her enjoy herself, Mama. Sir Charles was absolutely besotted by her. I am sure he will call upon Isobel this afternoon. Everyone observed his interest in her.”
Isobel paled. “Lizzie, you’re right. I must wear my new lilac dress that brings out the color of my eyes. Madam Sallo is supposed to deliver it today. Lizzie, you must accompany me to Madam Sallo’s shop. Now!”
Lizzie looked up startled. “Now? You want to go to her shop? Nonsense. She will deliver it as she said she would. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“No! We must go now. What if she doesn’t deliver it before Sir Charles arrives. Lizzie, you must join me,” screeched Isobel.
Even Lizzie couldn’t resist the desperate pleading from her sister. The duchess tried to persuade them to have a maid fetch the dress, but Isobel wouldn’t listen. The lilac dress had become the most important thing in the world.
“Really Isobel, you need to carry yourself with a little more grace. What would Sir Charles say if he saw you now?” questioned Lizzie.
“That I’m the most beautiful girl in this carriage?” asked Isobel with a sarcastic tone of victory in her voice.
Isobel was awarded with a pinch.
The ride was short, and Lizzie demanded that she be allowed to stay in the carriage while Isobel collected her dress. Lizzie wanted to ensure that as few people as possible noticed that they were attending to their own errands. When Isobel took longer than anticipated, feeling cramped inside, Lizzie got out to stretch her legs.
Not a few moments had passed when she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Lizzie’s face turned bright red—partly from anger and partly out of embarrassment for being caught at the shop.
“Lady Elizabeth, what a surprise to see you here.” To her displeasure, Matthew Adams, the man from the ball approached her.
“Hello, Mr. Adams,” Lizzie said bitterly.
He grinned, “So cold.”
Lizzie smiled through her teeth, “You are mistaken. I am merely waiting for my sister to finish her business.”
He flashed an amused smile her way and s
tood next to her. “It is not often I come across such a lovely duchess hanging out in front of a shop.”
“My mother is a duchess, Mr. Adams, as I’m sure you’re perfectly aware, or you would have addressed me properly.”
Matthew raised a hand in greeting at a passerby and commented, “I do wonder what it is about me which makes you bristle like an angry little kitten.”
Lizzie wondered if hitting him with her fan would injure him. “Once again, you are mistaken, Mr. Adams. I have treated you with nothing but politeness.” She spoke the last word with such biting insult that Matthew laughed.
The road was busy with carriages and townspeople moving about their daily tasks. She wondered what was taking her sister so long. This situation would surely be the topic of gossip.
“My cousin seems to be quite infatuated with you, Lady Elizabeth.”
Lizzie looked him straight in the face. “He seemed very infatuated with my younger sister until the ball. How troublesome.”
“I can see you do not really care for him.”
She smiled. “I do not really know him.”
Matthew adjusted his waistcoat and leaned against the carriage, “Then it seems I shall pursue you.”
Lizzie froze. “That is very brave of you. I can assure you that you are wasting your time.”
“I am a brave man, Lady Elizabeth.” Matthew’s eyes twinkled.
Resisting the urge to physically step on his foot, Lizzie smiled, a very forced smile. “What brought this about, if I may ask?”
“I find you very intriguing.”
“Hardly a compliment.”
“There is nothing else in this town that interests me.”
Lizzie bared her teeth. “Then maybe you should return home.”
Matthew studied her in amusement. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”