by Adams, Lucy
Titania closed her eyes against the tears that dampened her eyes. “I fear that I have come to care for him a great deal, Mama. I did not know that I could feel such a depth of affection.” A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed twice in an attempt to dislodge it. “To see him lying there, to know that he has been gravely injured, I…” She trailed off, tears escaping from behind her eyes and running down her cheeks.
“I am certain that Lord Carroway will recover,” her mother replied, still holding her close and speaking to her in a reassuring manner. “He will be restored to you soon enough, my dear. I am certain of it.”
Titania wanted to speak but could not, what with the tears that were lodged in her throat. She sniffed hard and found her mother pressing a handkerchief into her hands, which made her laugh softly despite her tears. Lady Whitehaven was, even in her kindest moments, still one for complete propriety and good manners.
A knock at the door had her jumping in surprise, but within a few moments, an older gentleman with a long, thin nose and a pair of pince-nez set on them walked into the house, a bag held in one hand.
“The surgeon, Mama,” Titania whispered, stepping away from her mother as Lady Whitehaven hurried to address the man. She watched with anxious eyes as the surgeon was led away by one of the footmen, praying that he would be able to help Lord Carroway.
“You can see him once the surgeon had completed his ministrations, Titania, Lady Whitehaven said, sounding a good deal more in control of her emotions than before. “Come now. You must be tired. Let us go and change and then seek some refreshments.”
Titania nodded, glancing down at her gown and see the streaks of red that caught at various parts of it. She swallowed hard, chasing away the rest of her tears as she lifted her chin, determined not to lose her composure. “Thank you, Mama,” she said, following after her mother and feeling a new sense of strength fill her. “I think I shall do just that.”
* * *
One hour later and Titania was finally allowed in to see Lord Carroway. She had changed, eaten, and drank copious cups of tea but still had found the door to Lord Carroway’s room to be closed to her. Her mother had been sitting with her in the parlor, along with her sisters, and they had, for once, simply been sitting in silence as they waited for the surgeon to reappear. Dinah had not joined them but had stated that she would remain in her room praying for Lord Carroway and for the skill of the surgeon. Rather than be annoyed by this, Titania had found herself quite grateful for her cousin’s willingness to do such a thing and had herself prayed for Lord Carroway’s recovery as she waited for the surgeon to return.
Now, as she hurried into the guest bedchamber, her heart in her throat, Titania found herself fearing what she might see. The memory of Lord Carroway lying slumped against the railings would not leave her, fearing that he had lost a good deal of blood and might now be danger of losing his life.
However, to her very great surprise, as she walked into the room, she saw Lord Carroway sitting in a chair by the fire and not lying in bed as she had expected. A clean shirt had been given to him and, whilst it remained untucked and rather lose about his waist, it did not hold any streaks of blood. His face was, however, quite badly bruised, and one eye appeared to be swelling closed, but he was not drawing near to death, as she had feared.
Such was her relief that Titania almost stumbled with the sudden weakness that caught at her heart, blinking her tears away as she made her way quickly to him.
“Forgive my lack of formal attire,” Lord Carroway quipped, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he gestured to his shirt. “The surgeon was forced to stick a needle and thread into my side, and therefore, I am quite unable to dress as I ought.”
Titania let out a half sob, half gasp of relief and practically fell at his feet, her hands catching his as she sat on her knees and looked up into his face. Lady Whitehaven remained at the door, talking quietly to the surgeon and allowing Titania some private moments with Lord Carroway.
“I am quite all right, Titania, as you can see,” Lord Carroway murmured, putting both hands over hers and squeezing them gently. “I was lost to unconscious for a time, and I confess that I have a terrible headache but that was due to the blow to my head rather than the knife to my side.”
Titania nodded, her breath rattling out of her as she fought to keep her composure. She wanted nothing more than to rest her head in his lap and sob with relief, but she forced herself not to do so. Her eyes lifted to his, and she saw him smile tenderly, despite the bruises that covered either side of his face.
“The knife,” she whispered quietly, unable to find her voice. “I-I have recovered it.”
“I know,” he replied, letting go of her hand so that he might run his fingers down the side of her face. “The footman brought it to me, but I fear that I do not recognize it. The lieutenant or one of the others might however.”
“And you did not see Ravel’s face?” Titania asked, searching Lord Carroway’s features. “You did not see what he looked like?”
Lord Carroway frowned, then winced. “No,” he grunted, evidently in pain. “My gaze was somewhat hazy given the blows I received from the fellow, and even if my eyes had remained clear, he had covered his face with a cloth of some sort, so that I could not recognize him. However, his voice…” He trailed off, his brows furrowing.
“You recognized his voice?” Titania asked urgently, her heart quickening suddenly. “Then that means you know him.”
“Yes,” Lord Carroway agreed, his tone a little dark. “That is precisely what it means.”
Titania let out a long breath, her heart and mind caught up with a sudden anticipation. “Then he is someone you are acquainted with.”
“And the way he spoke,” Lord Carroway said, speaking slowly as his thoughts began to align themselves. “He spoke as though he were a well-educated English gentleman.”
Titania caught her breath, her eyes widening. “Then that means that Ravel could be someone within your social circle.”
Lord Carroway let out a small exclamation. “I am afraid that I have a very small social circle, Titania,” he muttered, wincing as he ran his one hand through his hair, evidently having forgotten about his injuries. “But whilst that should aid me in my attempts to discover him, it does not mean that I have any certainty over the truth of his identity.”
Titania let out another breath and tried to think. She wanted to help Carroway in some way, wanted to be able to aid him in his efforts to discover him – and suddenly, an idea caught at her mind.
“If he is within society, then surely I myself might recognize him,” she said quickly, as Lord Carroway gave her a sharp look. “Did you fight back at him, Carroway? Was he injured in any way?”
It took a few moments but, eventually, Lord Carroway began to nod. “He was,” he said slowly. “I hit him hard across the face. A bruise would form very quickly, I am certain of it.”
“Then I shall go to as many social occasions as I can over the next few days, whilst you recover, and attempt to discover which gentleman bears a mark of a bruise on his face,” she said firmly, seeing him open his mouth to protest but holding up one hand to stem his complaints. “If he is not present in society, then he will be notable by his absence. I know a good many gentlemen from within the beau monde and can use that knowledge to discover the truth about Ravel. Please do not protest, Carroway. You know that you will need to rest and recover, and this is one thing that I can do to aid you in your search.” She held his gaze, looking up at him steadily and praying that he would not forbid her from doing such a thing.
Eventually, Lord Carroway let out a long breath and shook his head gently, his shoulders a little slumped. “I do not think that I will be able to prevent you from doing so, Titania, even if I should wish you to remain entirely uninvolved,” he said with a small smile. “Please, do be careful, my dear.” His tender words touched her heart, making her lean a touch closer to him, her heart filling with a fresh affection for hi
m.
“I will be, Carroway,” she promised, seeing the gentleness in his eyes and feeling herself longing for something she could not quite understand. “How long must you rest?”
Lord Carroway frowned, his expression a little frustrated. “Two days, at the very least,” he stated, glancing towards the surgeon. “I know from experience that it is best to do as one is told when it comes to such matters.” He looked back at her and again, allowed his fingers to trail down her cheek, making her breath hitch. “You will inform me at once if you so much as think that you have noted something of interest, will you not?”
“Of course,” Titania promised, wishing she could lean up and press her lips to his, such was the urgency of affection beating in her heart. “I look forward to the day when you are free of this, Lord Carroway, and I shall do all I can to aid you in this.”
“You are quite remarkable, Titania,” he murmured, beginning to lower his head but catching himself in time. Titania’s heart fluttered, but she forced herself to rise, to let his hand go and to turn towards her mother, who was, by now, beginning to approach them both. A determination filled her as she listened to her mother asking after Lord Carroway, hearing him respond with gratitude. She would find this Ravel, would bring his name to Carroway, and would watch in satisfaction as he was taken from his position in society. Lord Carroway would be free from that burden for good, and perhaps then, they might be able to discuss and consider their future together, for Titania knew that she would not be able to separate herself from Lord Carroway any longer. Her heart was too filled with him, too caught up with affection and the very beginnings of love. She had to hope that it would not be too long before she could confess as much to him, wondering if he too would admit that his own heart had a love for her that was growing with every day that passed.
Chapter Fifteen
“Might I say that you look rather well this evening, Miss Wells?”
Titania looked up into Lord Darlington’s face and scrutinized it carefully for a moment or two, no smile lingering on her lips. “I thank you, Lord Darlington.”
He did not appear to be confused by her scrutiny but rather pleased, smiling down into her eyes with the warmth of a gentleman hoping to secure a lady’s particular favors.
“Might I dance with you this evening?”
Titania, with a small, inward sigh, held out her dance card to the gentleman and saw his eyes glow with pleasure. This was not going as well as she had hoped, for none of the gentleman she had sought out or who had approached her showed any signs of having been in a scuffle and her dance card would soon be full.
“I thank you, Miss Wells,” Lord Darlington said, bowing low over her hand before letting it go. “I look forward to our cotillion.”
She nodded, smiled, and watched him turn away, clearly leaving her in order to seek out others to whom he might capture a dance with. A long sigh escaped her as she looked all around the ballroom, wondering if this was to be another failed attempt at discovering Ravel.
“You appear quite ill at ease, Titania.”
Turning her head, Titania’s smile was brittle as she looked up into her mother’s face, taking in her sharp eyes and the slight frown forming between her brows.
“You are not enjoying the ball, Titania?” Lady Whitehaven’s words were wry, a small, knowing smile capturing her mouth. “Or is it that you simply have not discovered your quarry as yet?”
Titania gave her mother a slight smile, knowing that Lady Whitehaven was fully aware of all that was going on. After Titania’s determination to help Lord Carroway discover Ravel by attending as many social occasions as possible, Lady Whitehaven had sought Titania out and demanded to know the truth about what had occurred with Lord Carroway and why Titania was now responding to as many invitations as she could.
It had taken Titania some time to confess the truth to her mother, but Lady Whitehaven had been more than determined to discover the truth, showing Titania where she got her stubbornness from. Lady Whitehaven was sharp eyed and quick witted and had known that the story Lord Carroway had told her of some fellow attempting to steal from him who had, in the end, stabbed him in order to get away, was not the truth in its entirety. If that had been the case, she had asked, why then had he asked Titania to bring the knife into the house?
Of course, Titania had not had any other choice but to be honest with her mother. Lady Whitehaven had reacted with surprise but had not demanded that Titania step away from Lord Carroway entirely, as Titania had feared. Instead, she had told Titania clearly that she would not be tackling such a matter on her own and had insisted on throwing a ball for the ton in the hope that by doing so, Ravel might reveal himself. After all, their acquaintances were many and Lady Whitehaven had suggested that Lord Carroway himself might recognize the fellow simply from hearing his voice again. She and Titania were both considering each and every gentleman that approached them but, as yet, no one had appeared with a mark on their face.
“You must attempt to smile a little more,” Lady Whitehaven said, encouraging her daughter. “For if this Ravel is present, then he might notice your change in countenance and know that you seek him out.”
“You are quite right, Mama,” Titania replied heavily. “It is only that I am growing desperate to discover him so that Lord Carroway might be freed of his burden.”
Lady Whitehaven laughed softly. “And how much of a struggle must be in Lord Carroway’s heart over his prolonged length of time chasing such a fellow?” she asked, putting one hand on Titania’s shoulder. “Have no fear, my dear girl. Lord Carroway’s affections will linger for a long time, whether he catches this Ravel or not. I am quite certain of it.”
Titania felt herself blush and her mother’s smile grew all the more
“I am glad for you, Titania,” she said, as another gentleman drew near them. “But now, for the moment, remember to smile and that Lord Carroway himself is watching over you.”
This only made Titania’s blush deepen as her mother turned away, leaving her to face the next gentleman alone. Lord Carroway, who was recovering well, had decided to remain hidden away and so lingered in a small alcove where he could not easily be seen but could watch all that went on around him. To know that he was watching her brought both relief and a heightened sense of awareness.
“Miss Wells! It has been some time since I have seen you, has it not?”
“It has been a few days only, Lord Huckleby,” Titania replied dryly, curtsying quickly. “Good evening to you.”
He grinned at her, but Titania frowned to herself, seeing something different about Lord Huckleby but finding that she did not quite know what it was.
“Your dance card is not full, I pray?” Lord Huckleby enquired, his dark eyes capturing hers with such intensity that she felt she could not look away. “Might I be permitted to see it?”
She nodded wordlessly and handed it to him, studying him carefully as he bent over her card. What was it about him that was different this evening? He was, as far as she could tell, just as he had always been, but yet there was something nagging at her mind that told her she had to look again.
And then, it came to her. A swift gasp escaped from her but, hurriedly, Titania turned it into a cough, which she then begged his pardon for, forcing an embarrassed smile onto her lips.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Wells?” Lord Huckleby asked, dropping the dance card so that it dangled from her wrist once more. “Might I fetch you something to drink?”
Titania, whose heart was beating with such ferocity that she was sure Lord Huckleby could hear it, gave a small wave of her hand. “I believe I am quite all right, Lord Huckleby, I thank you.”
He peered at her, as though dissatisfied by her answer. “Are you certain?”
“More than certain,” she answered, suddenly desperate for him to depart so that she might seek out Lord Carroway. “What dances did you choose, Lord Huckleby?”
He grinned at her, his eyes dancing with something that Titania
found she did not much like. Looking down at her dance card, her breath caught in her chest as she took in that he had written his name down for both her waltzes.
“Lord Huckleby,” she stated, looking up at him and forcing a calmness to her voice that she did not feel. “You cannot put yourself down for both waltzes. You know that the ton will take notice and that comments will be made.”
He shrugged, as though it did not matter to him at all what other people said. “I intend for the beau monde to be entirely aware of my intentions, Miss Wells,” he said, taking a step closer to her, his eyes fixed upon hers. “Does that not please you?”
She swallowed hard, feeling her stomach begin to tighten with anxiousness. “Lord Huckleby, given that you have not spoken to either myself or my mother about any particular intentions, I cannot understand what it is that you believe yourself to be doing by such an act as this.” She let her dance card go and lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated by his sharp gaze. “I will not dance with you for both waltzes, Lord Huckleby.”
His eyes narrowed. “You will, Miss Wells,” he replied, lowering his head just a little so that the warning in his voice could not be mistaken. “I am not a gentleman used to being refused.”
A noise of derision escaped her, making Lord Huckleby’s gaze narrow further still. “I do not think, Lord Huckleby, that stating such a thing will make me any more likely to do as you wish,” she replied, unswerving in her answer. “I will not dance both waltzes with you, given that you have not spoken of your intentions to me and that, even if you had done so, I would not accept them from you. I have already begun to be courted by another, and it is to him that I intend to remain loyal.”
Lord Huckleby let out his breath in a hiss, his frame tightening with apparent frustration. “Do not tell me that you would choose a viscount over an earl, Miss Wells.”
She tipped her head gently, feeling a sudden reassurance fill her heart. “I would choose kindness over attempts at fear, Lord Huckleby,” she replied, aware that she was infuriating him but finding that she did not care. “I would choose understanding and consideration over arrogance and selfishness. In short, Lord Huckleby, yes, I would choose Lord Carroway over you. In fact, that is precisely what I have done.” Bobbing a curtsy, she forced a tight smile to her face. “Good evening, my Lord.”