Holiday Bride: A Sweet Regency Romance (Brides of Somerset Book 5)

by Karen Lynne

  Lillian curtsied and tensed as she spotted Mr. Dalton coming toward his sister. Her partner returned her to Aunt Mary.

  “Lillian, you look lovely.” Lady Isabella smiled.

  “I agree, Isabella.” Benjamin’s eyes admired her, a friendly smile greeted her, a rush of fire flamed her cheeks.

  “Have you saved a dance for me?”

  “We have saved several, young man.” Replied Aunt Mary, her eyes sharp, observing him carefully. “Always good to keep a few open, just in case.” She nodded her head towards him, a twinkle in her eye.

  Lillian handed her card to Benjamin, and he filled his name on the last dance. A waltz Lillian noted with delight as well as another. Two dances, Lillian’s insides, felt all mushy.

  Mushy, was that possible?

  “If you ladies will excuse me, I must find my next partner, but I shall return, Miss Lillian.” Benjamin bowed and left them as Mr. Stuart Fitzhugh came to claim Lillian’s next dance. She watched as Benjamin retreated. Mr. Brent Fitzhugh claimed his next partner, Miss Stringham.

  Lillian turned her attention to her partner. She had noted the two brothers as very distinctive the moment the two were introduced at Lady Eliza’s. Their thick American accent she had not heard before. “Mr. Fitzhugh, what part of America do you call home?”

  “Why I’m from Fredericksburg, Virginia, where my father owns a plantation, Ravensworth, along the Rappahannock River. Beautiful place, wide-open spaces, and green as your country.” Mr. Fitzhugh took his position, and the music began.

  Lillian was surprised at his grace on the dance floor with his towering height. He must be at least six feet or more, she thought. She was not a short girl, but Mr. Fitzhugh was at least two heads above her. He swung her easily, and Lillian found it easy to keep in step.

  It was midway through the night, and Lillian found her stomach in want of food. Heather and Mr. Brent Fitzhugh were conversing with Aunt Mary when her partner returned her.

  “Miss Heather and I were just talking about retiring to the supper-room for a bit to eat. Would you two care to join us?”

  Lillian looked at Aunt Mary.

  “Yes, Dear, I shall be along in a minute.” Aunt Mary waved them on.

  They entered the room and stood in line at the buffet, waiting their turn. “Mr. Fitzhugh, are you to be here long in our part of England?”

  “Miss Lillian, do call me Stuart, this Mr. Fitzhugh will get confusing as to which of us you refer, my brother or I.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, we have only just met.” Lillian looked around as if to seek some advice. “How about if I refer to you as Mr. Stuart?” Lillian had noted the color of his pin. Mr. Stuart’s was ruby red, and Mr. Brent’s was emerald green, surely, she could tell them apart if they didn’t change up their pins.

  “Splendid, jolly as the English say. That is a clever idea.” Mr. Stuart wiggled his eyebrows.

  Lillian and Heather laughed at Mr. Stuart’s attempt to sound like an Englishman. His American accent spoiled the effect, but he was delightful in his humor. They filled their plates and found a vacant table.

  “My brother and I will be leaving for London after the Holidays, and in the spring, we are traveling into the north country. We finished our tour of Wales this summer, and we had a devil of a time understanding each other, the people that is.”

  Mr. Stuart’s thick drawl must have been an oddity to the people of Wales indeed. The gentlemen finished their dinners with gusto, not seeming to worry about the amount they consumed.

  Mr. Stuart stood. “May I get you more to eat, Miss Lillian, Miss Heather?”

  Heather shook her head. “I am fine, thank you.”

  “I should like some more punch, Mr. Stuart.” The watered-down mulled wine had warmed her as she watched the gentlemen retreat toward the buffet. Her Aunt was across the room, visiting with the dowager Countess of Malmesbury. Lillian didn’t see Lady Susan or Lady Eliza. They could be dancing or in the card room.

  Lillian watched as Mr. Stuart and his brother retreated, they were hard of muscle, with sunburned faces, and dark auburn hair, which showed their passion for outdoor activities.

  The twins were clothed in identical green coats and mustard-colored breeches, only a jeweled neck pin distinguished them apart. If Lillian could just remember the color and keep them separate. What pranks they must have played as boys.

  “Lillian, don’t you find Mr. Brent so distinguishingly original?” Heather breathed softly.

  “Well, if you don’t count that he is the exact replica of his brother, you are correct, the two of them are quite different than the gentlemen we are used to.” Lillian agreed.

  “Mr. Stuart, why have to set out to tour England?” Lillian asked when the brothers returned.

  “We were expelled from the University of Virginia, the third in two years.” Mr. Stuart admitted, with no outward remorse. “Now we are spending a year traveling England, to get culture.”

  Their well bread mother had insisted, he informed her. “One thing you don’t do is argue with mother.” Mr. Stuart explained, “she may be small, but could chew your ears off with her scolding, and she doesn’t hesitate to use a whip on neither of us.” Mr. Stuart extended his long legs in front of him, relaxing.

  “Oh, my.” Heather giggled at the outrageous behavior described.

  Their mother must be a formidable force, Lillian thought.

  “I don’t see no reason for the niceties of classical education. It carries no shame where we come from.” Mr. Brent told Heather. “Provided a gentleman is smart in things that matter.”

  “Oh, and what are those, Mr. Brent?” Lillian smiled.

  “Why, raising good tobacco and riding well.”

  Mr. Stuart had straightened up in his chair. “Dancing lightly and squiring the ladies with gracefulness.”

  Lillian confirmed Mr. Stuart had mastered the art of dancing.

  “And don’t forget, brother, carrying one’s liquor like a gentleman.” Mr. Brent raised his glass of wine in agreement.

  “My goodness, it sounds like Southern gentlemen are not much different from English gentlemen.” Lillian giggled.

  Lillian noticed Aunt Mary signaling from across the room. “Gentleman,” she stood. “It has been very entertaining.” Both gentlemen stood as well. “We must get back to Lady Faden.”

  “Miss Lillian, may my brother and I call on you and Miss Heather?” Mr. Stuart asked.

  Heather nodded to Lillian. “Yes, Mr. Stuart, that would be nice.” Lillian slipped her arm through Heather’s, leaving the gentlemen, she and Heather joined Aunt Mary.

  Lillian watched the Fitzhugh brothers as she followed Lady Faden out of the supper-room. The two of them had gone back to the buffet to fill their plates for another helping. No wonder those boys were so tall and robust.

  “Those American gentlemen are quite entertaining. I could hear their conversation across the room.” Aunt Mary quipped over her shoulder.

  Lillian passed Benjamin as they left the supper-room, returning to the ballroom. Her stomach did a little flip as he brushed by, stopping he gave her a nod, clicking his boots, he bowed, causing her insides to go all mushy again. His hair a little disheveled, a golden wave falling across his brow, and his cravat not quite as stiff as it had been a few hours before from the dancing. He was wearing a dark green wool jacket, her favorite color, with tight-fitting breaches tucked into his polished boots. It was enough to make a girl swoon.

  Lillian popped open her fan and started waving it across her face.

  It was hot in here.

  Miss Lillian, I have been looking for you. I believe I have the next dance. She smiled, making his abdomen fill with butterflies. She handed him her hand, which he tucked into his arm. “Lady Faden, will you excuse us?”

  “Of course, my dear boy, just bring her back safe.” Lady Faden hummed as she walked away, fanning herself artfully as she retreated.

  “I think Aunt Mary likes you.”

  “How can you tell
?”

  “Yesterday, she let you sit next to me in the carriage. A proper chaperone would have taken the seat next to the gentleman.”

  Benjamin had been so happy to have Lillian beside him; he didn’t think it unusual. “My sister sent me to fetch your party yesterday, claiming illness, but when I returned home, she was happily working with Mildred.”

  Miss Lillian’s eyes widened. “Do you think they are up to something?”

  If they were trying to throw him and Miss Lillian together, he would happily comply if it meant spending more time with Lillian.

  “It is certainly a possibility. Why don’t we play along and see what develops? We can gather more proof.” He gave Lillian an alluring grin. “But we must not let them know we are onto them.”

  Miss Lillian’s smile brightened, causing his insides to jiggle if that were possible. He believed she had gained weight, her eyes were brighter, and her cheeks fuller. When he held her yesterday while dancing, she felt… well she had undoubtedly rounded out in all the right places.

  She laughed, and he pulled her closer while they navigated the crowded room, taking advantage of the crush. She smelled fresh, of lavender and rosemary, none of that heavy perfume some many of the ladies used.

  They took their places in the dance set just before the orchestra began the lively country tune. The intricate patterns of the dance made more impressive with the colorful gowns flowing between their partners. He kept his eye on Lillian. He had the last dance, a waltz where it was acceptable to hold one's partner close.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Benjamin made his way to the stables. It was a warm winter day, the kind of day you didn’t need a coat. The type of day you could put the top down on the carriage. The kind day of you could almost believe spring was around the corner but he wasn’t fooled, the rains would return and then it would bring chilly winds, but he would enjoy this day because Isabelle had asked him to escort Miss Lillian and Miss Stringham to the posting inn where Miss Stringham was leaving for a visit home for Christmas this afternoon.

  The familiar stench of horses and leather tickled his nose as he entered the stables. The stable boy had his mount ready. He left the yard for a bruising ride to clear his thoughts. Isabella had asked how Benjamin enjoyed the ball, and in particular if he enjoyed dancing with Lillian. He had enjoyed the last waltz, holding Lillian close. It was becoming clear that his sister was attempting to dabble in matchmaking.

  Lillian gathered Heather’s packages for her family and handed them to her one at a time while she tucked them into spaces between her gowns.

  “My sisters will be so excited.” Heather found a place for the last gift. “I will tell them all about the ball. Mr. Fitzhugh was so elegant in his dancing and gave the most delightful compliment. He said I reminded him of the peach blossoms back home, my complexion, he meant, pink like peach blossoms.” Heather sighed as she closed the trunk.

  Lillian suspected the Fitzhugh brothers had one more important rule, the art of flirtation, but she didn’t say as much. The two Americans would be gone, down the road by the time Heather returned.

  The butler brought the luggage down and stacked it in the hall. Aunt Mary was snug in her chair by the fire, Cyrus, in his usual place at her feet, not even bothering to sniff the air when Lillian entered.

  “Isabella is sending a carriage; would you be a dear and attend her in gathering the donations after sending Miss Heather on the coach?” Aunt Mary picked up a paper from the side table by her chair. “My hip is aching, so I better stay here by the fire and keep warm.”

  “Of course, Aunt Mary. Can I get you anything before we leave?” Lillian took the paper.

  “No, no, Beatrix, is taking care of me.”

  “Mr. Dalton, ma’am,” The butler announced.

  “My sister sent me to fetch you.” Benjamin gave a bow.

  “Benjamin, how nice, but I have decided my hip is causing me trouble. Lillian has the addresses for the donations. Tell Isabella, thank you.”

  Lillian watched Aunt Mary’s display with suspicion. Her eyes twinkled with mirth as Benjamin guided them out the front door. A groom was loading Heather's trunks. The landau top had been let down, and there was no sign of Benjamin’s sister.

  “Where is Isabella?” Lillian asked a grinning Benjamin.

  “My sister had an excuse at the last minute and sent me alone.” Benjamin steadied Heather grasping her arm as she climbed into the carriage, then helping Lillian in. She sat next to Heather, and Benjamin sat opposite.

  “It is a beautiful day for a drive, wouldn’t you say?” Benjamin’s eyes sparkled with hidden meaning.

  “Oh, yes, it is so nice to have these warm winter days,” Heather replied.

  “Miss Stringham, are you looking forward to seeing your family?” Benjamin asked.

  “I cannot wait to see them. My sisters will be all agog when I tell about the Christmas Ball.” Heather exuded excitement as she talked about the gentleman she danced with the night before.

  Benjamin smiled at Lillian as they both listened. Could Aunt Mary had been any more obvious, and Isabella? Lillian sighed. It was a lovely day, and she intended to enjoy herself.

  Lillian waved as the coach pulled out onto the road. A little yearning at Heathers’ visit home. Even though she decided to leave her aunt and uncle's home, she missed the family. Christmas was a time to spend with them.

  “I think my sister planned to have us alone, except for the groomsman, of course.” Benjamin's smile lit his face.

  “I think Aunt Mary had a part as well.” Lillian pulled the list from her reticule, holding for him to see. “We are to gather these donations on our way home.”

  Lillian climbed into the carriage. Benjamin followed as he sat facing her. He took the paper from her hand.

  “Let's see, I think we can accomplish this task in a few hours.” Benjamin gave the groomsman the direction to their first stop. His eyes danced merrily as he turned to face her.

  Yes, she could enjoy this view, admiring Benjamin.

  Isabella must trust her brother, and so should she.

  “You didn’t go for a ride this morning?”

  “No, I wanted to, but I was busy helping Miss Stringham pack for her trip. Did you ride?”

  “I always ride in the morning before breakfast. It clears my head.”

  “Yes, I understand, I too love a morning ride.” His eyes were so blue. She hadn’t noticed it before, maybe it was the sunny day, they had appeared grayer before.

  Silence stretched.

  She looked out over the countryside, her tongue-tied as she tried to think of something to say that wasn’t a load of tripe. The weather was safe. A lady never talks about politics, money or …what was the other taboo her aunt taught her? “Do you think we will have snow this Christmas?”

  She heard a slow deep chuckle and turned to find Benjamin watching her, a half-grin on his handsome face. Not ruggedly handsome like Lord Egerton or classically handsome like Sir William, his nose was a little crooked, in a good way. He made her stomach flip. Lillian’s almost betrothed never had this effect on her.

  Benjamin cleared his throat, bringing her eyes back to him. “Do you really want to talk about the weather?” His perfectly shaped eyes sparkled.

  Wait, could gentlemen’s eyes sparkle?

  Benjamin’s eyes were perfect, unlike him, his eyes were too close together, shifty. She should have known when he dumped her for a wealthier prize.

  “Isabella wants me to marry you.”

  “Pardon?” Lillian’s eyes turned back to him; her heart rate increased.

  He chuckled again. “Just making sure you were listening, but I do suspect my sister is playing at matchmaking, Lady Faden as well. They are probably in this together.”

  Lillian wasn’t surprised, although Aunt Mary had promised she wouldn’t be pushed into marrying. “I suspect you are right Mr. Dalton. Does it bother you?”

  “Most certainly not, we are friends, I hope, and I enjo
y your company. You are one of the few ladies I have met that are not simpering and playing dumb, only talking about the weather, or commenting on the cut of my coat and how fine it looks.” He gave her a mischievous grin.

  The carriage pulled to a stop at their first destination. Playing dumb, indeed. Lillian watched as Benjamin lighted from the carriage making his way to the side entrance. His coat did indeed fit superb across his broad shoulders, a fact she would keep to herself.

  Returning shortly, he was followed by two servants carrying a box apiece. Benjamin helped load the boxes onto the seats before climbing in himself. He gave the directions to the next home, and the driver moved forward.

  “Mr. Dalton, how many simpering females have you come across?”

  Benjamin’s smile spread across his face. “Do you intend to trap me with my answer?”

  “Certainly not, it’s just that you may not fully understand what ladies of our class have to contend with. Lessons of etiquette are drilled into us from the cradle. We live in constant fear that we may come across as an intelligent woman which could label us a bluestocking and limit our chance of acquiring a husband.”

  Benjamin cocked his brow, bringing his leg up he crossed it over his left leg, his boot swinging. He reached his right arm over the back of the seat as he contemplated her remark. “Miss Lillian, I do appreciate an intelligent woman, and I see your point. Gently bred women do have a disadvantage over working-class women in that your professions are limited, but you have advantages as well.”

  “In what way?”

  “If you are not blessed with an inheritance, becoming a lady’s companion or a governess affords a roof over your head and a meal in your stomach. I have seen the working-class labor away for twelve hours for only a pittance, and if they are injured or let go without a reference, the family struggles to keep food on the table.” His eyes darkened.

  Lillian watched as his jaw tightened.

  Was he thinking of his mother?

  Lillian certainly was.

  She wondered how he and his sister could come from such a woman. They were so unlike her in every way. Lillian followed Benjamin's gaze. He was looking out at the countryside, focused on nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts, she let him have his moment undisturbed.