Wishing For Rainbows (Historical Romance)

by Rebecca King

  When Aunt Adelaide’s head touched her shoulder again, Ursula coughed and nudged it back up. Her lips quirked when Adelaide blinked sleepily at her; then groaned when she realised where she was. Their eyes met and held for a moment. Ursula couldn’t withhold her smile when her aunt winced and swore in a rather unladylike fashion when the music increased in volume as it reached its climactic end.

  An awkward silence settled over the room once the smattering of applause faded. Nobody moved or spoke, merely watched with a sense of inevitability as Mildred immediately flicked through the pages of the music book. Before anybody could move, she began to bash away at another piece of music.

  “How much longer?” Adelaide whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

  “It was your idea to come,” Ursula chided her without taking her eyes off Mildred. She winced when several wrong notes were played, but the young girl plodded on regardless.

  “I must have a word with her mother about sending her for more lessons,” Adelaide grumbled as she studied the bored guests seated around them. She nodded to one or two of them and shared knowing looks with a couple more. “Any idea of how long we have been here?” she whispered.

  “About three weeks, I think,” Ursula replied. “Any idea of how we can take our leave without having to climb out of the window, pretend to faint, or actually crawl out under the seats?”

  Adelaide considered that for a moment then nodded firmly. “I have a perfect way,” Adelaide replied with an air of secretive confidence.

  Ursula lifted her brows and watched Adelaide nod surreptitiously at a woman seated on the opposite side of the room. The idea of two octogenarians plotting the downfall of the young pianist made her want to laugh, and so Ursula sat back to see what her somewhat wayward aunt had in store. Unfortunately, while she waited for the music to finish, her mind began to wander.

  Since her arrival in London she had been thrust into a heady whirl of social engagements that left her struggling to cope with the constant round of new names and faces, none of whom she had any hope of remembering. Although she had tried hard not to pay him any attention, she had learned relatively early on that Trenton Calderhill had returned home to Yorkshire, apparently to deal with pressing estate matters. Thankfully, he wasn’t expected back for some time, which assisted her on her quest to forget about him.

  Secure in the knowledge that she wouldn’t stumble across him at any of the engagements, she had actively thrown herself into the heady social whirl of London. Unfortunately, those social engagements, most of which were just as boring as this one, would have tried the patience of Job. The only highlight of this evening was seeing how Adelaide was going to get them out of Lady Moldover’s music room without actually clubbing Mildred over the head.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” she whispered to herself, aware that once again, her thoughts had turned toward Trenton, in spite of her best efforts to relegate him to the past where he belonged.

  “Eh? What’s that?” Adelaide murmured.

  “Nothing.”

  Settling back in her seat, she waited to see how Adelaide would get them out of the recital before dawn. She didn’t have to wait long.

  When the pianist finished the current piece with a flurry of hands, Adelaide and the lady across the aisle clapped but, rather than stopping, they continued to clap as they stood. In doing so they forced all the men in the room to stand as well. Sensing escape, people clapped louder for several moments and hurriedly made their way out of the room.

  “I must have a drink before we go,” Adelaide murmured as they entered the room across the hallway that had been set aside for refreshments.

  “I thought you were tired,” Ursula mused ruefully as she followed her.

  “I feel quite refreshed now,” Aunt Adelaide declared with a rather pleased smile.

  She should be refreshed seeing as she spent most of the recital fast asleep on my shoulder, Ursula mused with a rueful shake of her head.

  “It is getting late, Aunt Adelaide. We have an appointment with the modiste tomorrow. It is already well past midnight.”

  “Nonsense. We have time for a Ratafia, don’t we dear?” Adelaide didn’t bother to wait to see if her niece agreed before she waved to a footman carrying a tray of drinks.

  As she usually did whenever she accompanied her aunt to such social engagements; Ursula seated her aunt, handed her a drink, and then stood to one side while Adelaide chatted to her friends and acquaintances.

  “Oh, there you are. I was wondering if you would come and see us,” Adelaide suddenly gushed, her wrinkled face wreathed in a delighted smile. “How is your father?”

  “He is in good health thank you, Adelaide. You appear to be so too. You look delightful this evening.”

  Ursula felt her stomach dip. As soon as he spoke, she knew who it was, and looked up with her heart in her eyes. Something deep within her jolted when she realised he was smiling directly at her. Not just smiling, but looking at her in a rather knowing way that gave her the impression he knew something she didn’t.

  Don’t be a fool, Ursula. How could he? She thought somewhat shakily. Mindful of the people watching, she dipped into a curtsey as Adelaide introduced them.

  “I believe you know my niece, Ursula,” Adelaide declared in a voice that was laden with pride.

  “I do,” Trenton murmured politely. “How are you this evening, Miss Proctor?”

  “I am very well, thank you,” she replied.

  “Did you enjoy the music?”

  She coughed and fought the urge to roll her eyes. “It was an education,” she replied politely.

  “Indeed, it was. If there is one thing I should aspire to achieve in my life from this moment forth it is to never hear such a hideous racket again,” he murmured in a tone that was soft and gentle, and far too intimate for her feminine sensibilities to cope with.

  A shiver of awareness slithered down her spine. The intimate tone in his voice elicited a flurry of awareness deep in the pit of her stomach that she wasn’t sure how to deal with. His eyes met and held hers for several long moments as a somewhat uncomfortable silence settled between them. It took several rather embarrassing moments before she realised he was waiting for her to speak. When she did, she jumped guiltily and scrambled frantically to find something to say.

  “I didn’t realise you were in London,” she said. It was the only thing she could think of.

  Right now, she would much prefer him to be back in Yorkshire, where she didn’t have to be reminded of just how handsome he was.

  The years had, if possible, made him even more charming than she could remember. His grey eyes still twinkled mischievously, but now there was an air of masculine sophistication about him that appealed to her. She knew she shouldn’t stare at him; it was the height of bad manners, but her eyes were drawn repeatedly to his broad shoulders, awkwardly aware that in comparison to most of the men present, he was tall and powerfully built. As far as she was concerned there was nobody else quite like him. If only she knew what to do about the shimmering awareness that swept through her, maybe she could get her mind to work properly whenever he was around.

  “I concluded my business early and, given that London has more to offer than the wilds of the Yorkshire moors, I returned as quickly as I could. How do you like it here?”

  He struggled to tear his gaze away from her, but she looked so stunning bathed in the gentle glow of the candle-light that his eyes just feasted. She was taller than he could remember. The top of her raven hair only touched his shoulder, but that only emphasised her feminine allure. There was a maturity about her now that when combined with delightfully rounded feminine curves, and that secretive smile, made her an intriguing bundle of femininity he wanted to unravel. As far as he was concerned, she was as close to perfection as anyone he had ever met and the quicker he could further his acquaintance with her, the better.

  He glanced at Adelaide and mentally thanked the Lord that she was now deep in conversation with her fr
iends, and had seemingly forgotten all about them. It allowed him a few precious moments to converse with the woman who had captured his youthful imagination a long time ago, and had refused to let go. Now, having seen her again, he realised that maturity had only added to her beauty, and emphasised the stunning features God had graced her with.

  “It’s good to see you again,” he assured her huskily. “I was expecting you to be in Yorkshire. I called by your house to see your father a few days ago. He told me you were here and sends his regards. He said to ask you if you had progressed with your project yet. He is still waiting for your letter, and that you should choose wisely.”

  He lifted his brows as he waited for her to explain. To his consternation, he watched the joy fade rapidly from her eyes. It wasn’t just the sudden evaporation of her happiness that bothered him. It was the incredible sadness that replaced it that unnerved him the most. He knew the truth about why she was in London, and had been horrified when her father had told him. However, he couldn’t fathom why such a prospect should make her so dejected. Did she not wish to marry?

  “I hope I haven’t said anything to upset you,” he murmured quietly when she looked as if she was about to cry.

  The thought of someone like Ursula being thrown to the wolves in London; quite literally, in search of a husband, had him racing after her as though hounds from Hell were nipping at his heels. He didn’t stop to think of the possible questions his sudden departure from Hoghampton might raise. Nothing had unnerved him more than the thought of Ursula being betrothed to some lecherous rogue whose interests were less than pure. Although he had only ever met her on a handful of occasions at local functions, she had long since captured his interest even though he had never been given the opportunity to get to know her better. Now though, things were different and he wasn’t going to waste a single moment in furthering his cause.

  “I hope I haven’t just imparted bad news?” he prompted when she didn’t seem inclined to speak.

  Ursula looked up at him and offered him a half-hearted smile. “No, not really,” she replied quietly. “I am sorry. I just remembered that I forgot to let him know I have arrived safety.”

  Trenton knew she had just lied to him but was prepared to forget that as long as she would smile at him again. He studied her carefully while he tried to find something witty to say that would bring that happy sparkle back.

  Ursula tried not to stare at him but couldn’t ignore the solidity of his reassuring presence. She had never felt anything quite like it before. His masculinity drew her in, and encouraged her to trust him, confide in his unflappable strength. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him everything; only why she should feel the need to do so without even knowing him properly was anyone’s guess. There was just something about his manner that assured her that he was a man who could be relied upon in times of crisis.

  In spite of this, she sternly reminded herself that he was the last person who would be interested in her personal problems, even if this were the time or the place to divulge such information. Deep in the back of her mind was the knowledge that he would soon be a married man. It gave her the strength to ignore the pang of hurt that lingered around her heart, and straighten her shoulders in a singular show of defiance.

  “I shall endeavour to write to him as soon as I get the opportunity. I apologise for my father’s forwardness in expecting you to be his messenger,” she replied somewhat stiffly.

  “I don’t mind,” Trenton assured her, wishing he hadn’t mentioned it now. He hated the formalities of society at the best of times, and even more so with Ursula. It was part of the reason why he loved being back in Yorkshire where he was able to be himself and everything was considerably more relaxed.

  Given where they were this evening though, manners dictated that he smile politely at her, and speak cautiously because of eves-droppers and gossips, but it was the last thing he wanted to do. “He knew I was returning to London and asked me to pass the message on if I saw you.”

  She winced when she realised she had been a little harsh with him and willed herself to relax. Of course the only reason why someone like Trenton would approach her was to relay a message. Why else would someone who was as handsome and well connected approach an eligible woman who was chubbier than most, smaller than average, and rather plain. It wasn’t Trenton’s fault that he had hurt her by offering for someone else. He had no idea how she felt about him; how she had always felt about him.

  Now, he never would.

  “Thank you for doing so.” In spite of her best efforts, hurt kept her manner formal.

  “If you are ready, Ursula, it is time I found my bed,” Adelaide declared having said farewell to her friends. She turned to Trenton. “At my age dear, I cannot keep the pace I once did. It is time for me to call it a night. Please excuse us, Trenton, my dear.”

  “Please allow me to arrange for your carriage,” Trenton declared with a bow.

  He studied Ursula as he did so, but to his confusion she refused to meet his eyes. What had he said that had over-set her so? Was it his mention of her father? Did she object to his demand that she find a husband? That thought filled him with renewed hope, and a rather ruthless determination. He squared his shoulders and nodded to both ladies.

  “Let me escort you,” he said and waved toward the door.

  “If you would, that would be a great help,” Adelaide replied.

  Ursula took her aunt’s arm and escorted her out of the room and down the stairs toward the main hallway. By the time they had reached the front door and collected their shawls, the carriage was waiting. Ursula stood to one side while Trenton handed Adelaide inside and was about to step forward to climb aboard when Trenton spoke.

  “Are you going to Lady Andover’s ball next Friday?”

  She looked blank for a moment while she tried to remember who Lady Andover was.

  “Yes, we are, Trenton,” Adelaide called from inside the carriage. “I accepted the invitation just this afternoon.”

  “I hope I shall see you there,” he murmured without taking his eyes off Ursula. “Sleep well.”

  She accepted the hand he held out to her in a daze and watched him close the door once she had taken a seat. He stood back but remained where he was until the carriage disappeared from sight. As soon as their gazes were broken, she sighed and leaned back against the seat to face her aunt. She felt as though she was living some kind of dream, although couldn’t be quite sure what to make of what had just happened.

  As the carriage rumbled away, she couldn’t settle her thoughts to anything other than just how much more wonderful he was in person than she had ever imagined him to be. She wanted to laugh with the sheer joy of this new revelation. Unfortunately, her happiness was dampened with the knowledge that their acquaintance could go nowhere.

  “Such a charming man,” Adelaide declared as the carriage turned out of the end of the road. “It’s such a shame he is to be saddled with that awful woman.”

  “He is engaged, isn’t he?” she asked. Her heart suddenly felt like a leaden weight in her chest. She winced when Adelaide glared at her across the dim recesses of the carriage.

  “From what I hear, yes. Apparently, his intended is an odious woman called Barbarella Somersby. She is such an awful creature; beautiful to look at but rotten to the core. Her father has spoiled her; given her far too much for far too long if you ask me. It is a shame that Trenton didn’t have better taste. I don’t know what he was thinking of.”

  Determined not to cry, Ursula sat back to watch the city streets roll by.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The following morning, Ursula was reading the newspaper while eating breakfast. She was only vaguely aware of the quite murmur of voices in the hallway. It was only when there was a discrete tap on the door that she glanced up and watched Isaac, Adelaide’s butler, enter the breakfast room carrying a posy of flowers.

  “They have just arrived, ma’am. For Miss Ursula.”

  Ursula froze in
the process of biting into her piece of toast. She took the small white envelope the butler held out to her hesitantly and stared at it curiously for a moment while Isaac slid the arrangement onto the table beside her. The writing didn’t look familiar. Who could it be from?

  “You have impressed someone, Ursula, my dear,” Adelaide gushed. She smiled across the table at her niece, waiting to learn the identity of the sender.

  “For a beautiful lady,” Ursula read aloud. She looked at the back of the card in confusion, but there was no sender’s name.

  “What else does it say?” Adelaide prompted when Ursula didn’t say anything else.

  “Nothing. That’s all it says: For a beautiful lady.”

  “Oh my,” Adelaide gushed. “A secret admirer. How wonderful.”

  Ursula wasn’t altogether sure it was wonderful. The only people she had spoken to last night were a few of her aunt’s old friends, and they wouldn’t be likely to send her the flowers. The only other person she had spoken to had been Trenton, and he couldn’t possibly be the sender either – could he?

  “Do you recognise the writing?” Adelaide asked her, craning her neck to see the flowing script herself. It was hopeless though because of the width of the table between them and she flopped down in her seat with an impatient sigh.

  “I don’t know anyone well enough to know what their writing looks like,” Ursula said.

  “I wonder who they could be from,” Adelaide mused. “They are wonderful, aren’t they? The sender must be smitten.”

  Ursula rolled her eyes. Although sense urged her to be cautious, her thoughts kept straying toward Trenton. He had been the only man she had conversed with throughout the past fortnight. But, because he was engaged, the idea of someone like Trenton sending her such a wonderful arrangement didn’t seem feasible.