The Earl and the Nightingale: Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Ella Edon

  Pulled from his thoughts, Derby saw Amy. She was hovering near a plant by one of the pillars, inching towards the open terrace windows. Sarah had wandered off and was talking to some middle-aged women who were fussing over her and gushing over her dress, leaving Amy alone. Derby watched as Amy shuffled towards an escape.

  He had to admire her for her sacrifice to attend the party. Derby knew as much as Sarah how much Amy hated social gatherings. She preferred to be on her own with just a few people. This was something Amy didn’t want any part of, but she loved Sarah and had come along to watch her best friend get married. Derby was grateful for that.

  Putting his glass on the tray of a passing footman, Derby walked around the edge of the dancefloor, neatly dodging the people twirling around to the music coming from the orchestra and headed towards Amy. She was very close to the terrace now, almost clinging onto the doorframe. Derby could see how nervous she was, and how fast she was breathing. It was a wonder she hadn’t fainted by now.

  “Miss Hartley.” He bowed to her. “I didn’t realize the evening is so bad that you feel the need to escape it.”

  Amy’s mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Then her cheeks went rosy red, and she dropped into a wobbling curtsy, bowing her head.

  “My Lord Derby. I didn’t realize you were there.”

  “I noticed.”

  Amy bit her lip. Derby found his eyes straying to her mouth, transfixed. The little curly-haired girl had grown up into a beautiful young woman. Her brown hair was still wavy, clipped into a chignon at the nape of her neck, and her pale skin was clear of any blemishes. And those eyes, sapphire blue in color, never failed to take Derby’s attention. They were stunning, and her petite frame was clad in a dress that matched them.

  He knew he wasn’t the only one who had noticed Amy’s blossoming beauty. Several young men had paid her close attention, but Amy never gave them a glance. For a reason unknown to Derby, he was glad about that.

  Everything went out of the window whenever Amy was in his presence. Not even Katherine had done this to him. Derby missed her, but Katherine had never made him feel over-protective about her, wanting to grab hold of her and never let go.

  “Forgive me for my...well, my behavior.” Amy gulped and glanced around the room. “I’m just trying to keep out of sight of my father.”

  “Is he looking for you again?”

  “I’m afraid so. I saw him talking to the Earl of Bristol just now.” Amy made a face. “And I don’t want to go anywhere near him.”

  Derby couldn’t blame her. Bristol wasn’t the nicest of people. He was a slippery character. Perfect to be in Hartley’s company, but the wrong choice for Amy. Derby pushed this aside. It wasn’t his decision on who Amy married.

  “You can’t stay here, hugging the wall all evening.”

  “I can give it a good try.”

  Derby couldn’t help but smile.

  “You never struck me as someone easily scared, Miss Hartley.”

  Amy huffed.

  “You sound like Sarah. You know I don’t like social events, my lord. There are too many people, and I feel like I can’t breathe.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m struggling right now.”

  Derby could tell. Amy was still looking flushed, and she was breathing quicker. Her chest was moving faster, and Derby had to try and look anywhere else but at her breasts. That was not something Derby wanted to be caught doing. He cleared his throat.

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens.”

  “I know.” Amy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I hate coming to these. No offense to you, my lord, but I do. It’s only because of Sarah that I was able to cope until now. Now she’s gone…”

  She broke off. Derby chuckled.

  “Sarah’s just got married. You’re acting like she’s died instead.”

  “Even so…”

  Amy was getting herself into a state. Derby didn’t know what else he could do. Then he saw Lady Hartley walking around the edge of the ballroom, her eyes fixed on her stepdaughter. Amy hadn’t seen her yet, and Derby knew the two of them would end up in a fiery argument. Even with her social anxieties, Amy had a fire inside her that was fascinating to watch.

  But not tonight. Derby bowed to her and held out a hand.

  “Would you care to dance?”

  “I…”

  Amy was staring at him with wide eyes. Derby gestured over his shoulder and lowered his voice.

  “Lady Hartley’s coming. If you don’t want to become a spectacle, I’ll rescue you. My only reward is a dance with you, and then I’ll take you into the dining hall. You’ll be able to sit there without interruption.”

  Amy closed her eyes, still staring at him.

  “You’re blackmailing me into a dance, my lord?”

  “What can I say? Not even a gentleman is completely honest.”

  Amy hesitated. Then she sighed with a shake of her head and slipped her hand into his.

  “You and Sarah are as bad as each other.”

  Derby didn’t comment. He simply led her towards the dancefloor, where everyone was gathering for another waltz. Amy was looking at anything but at him, finally settling with her eyes firmly fixed on the buttons on his shirt. But, she stepped in close and allowed Derby to put his arms around her, following his steps as they went around the room. For someone who didn’t like to dance or make a spectacle of herself, Amy was light-footed and a fluid dancer. She was like poetry in motion.

  Derby felt a little like a fraud. He hadn’t just wanted to dance with Amy to get her away from her stepmother; he wanted to hold her. Dancing the waltz was the only time he could be this close to her without anyone raising an eyebrow. It was a selfish thought, but Derby didn’t care.

  If only he was able to do more. If only he was daring enough to venture further with their relationship and take her into a more intimate embrace and see how sweet and soft those lips were…

  Derby mentally shook himself. Now was not the time. He needed to take control of himself, or he was going to end up embarrassing both of them.

  The dance came to an end, and everyone stopped to clap for the musicians. Amy was a little flushed, and her eyes were bright. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had enjoyed the dance. Derby bit back a smile, knowing that he could bring such pleasure to her. He bowed at her.

  “Now, I will hold up my end of the bargain.”

  Holding out his arm, Derby watched as Amy laid her hand on his arm, her long, slim fingers curling around his wrist. He could feel the heat of her palm through her gloves and his sleeves. Swallowing hard, Derby led her off the dancefloor and out of the ballroom, stepping into the dining hall. There were still plenty of people there, sitting at various tables and talking while they ate, but it wasn’t as crowded as the ballroom. Even Derby felt like he could breathe properly.

  Derby walked Amy over to a table in the corner by the window, pulling a chair out for her to sit.

  “Thank you for indulging me, Miss Hartley.” He sat beside her, smoothing his hands on his thighs. “How are you feeling now?”

  “A little better, actually.” Amy fidgeted with the unused napkin on the tabletop. “I didn’t think I would be better after a dance.”

  Derby smiled.

  “I’m glad. You are a lovely dancer.”

  “Thank you, my lord.” Amy bit her lip. “I would prefer to be at home, however. I don’t mean any offense,” she hurried on, “It’s just…”

  “I know what you meant. You’re here supporting my sister, and that means a lot to me.”

  “Of course. I’ll always support her.”

  They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the calmer atmosphere. Derby felt like the ringing in his ears had stopped. The musicians Merseyside had organized were very good, but Derby thought a full orchestra was a little too much. A string quartet would have done, but the Marquis had wanted something with a bit more grandeur.

  As they sat together in silence, De
rby watched Amy as she stared at the napkin in her hands. She was struggling with something more than her social anxieties. Something else was going on. Derby could tell it was painful for her, and it was pressing on her thoughts.

  “Miss Hartley?”

  Amy jumped, almost knocking over a half-full glass of water. Derby moved it out of reach and turned back to her.

  “Is there something else going on in that head of yours?”

  “I…” Amy’s eyes were round. “What makes you say that?”

  “I don’t know. But there’s something going on.”

  For a moment, Amy didn’t say anything. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Then she opened her eyes and looked at him, Derby unable to look away from those beautiful eyes.

  “I don’t know if I can discuss what’s going on, my lord,” Amy said quietly. “But when I do find the courage to discuss my problems, would you mind if I talk to you about it? As a friend of mine?”

  “Of course.” Derby smiled. He reached out and touched her hand. “If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.”

  Amy smiled. It was the first genuine smile Derby had seen on her all evening, and it made his heart stumble.

  “Thank you, Daniel,” Amy whispered. “You are very kind.”

  Derby cleared his throat. The smile had started something intense knotting in his stomach, and his trousers were beginning to feel rather tight. He jumped to his feet, unable to look at her.

  “I’ll get you some food,” he mumbled, “there should be some left.”

  He felt like a fool stumbling away, but Derby could feel the knot easing and his breathing slowing.

  Amy could feel her hands getting sweaty as Derby hurried away. Just being this close to him had her stomach feel like she was housing butterflies, and a hot flush took hold. She was sure that she was more flushed in the face, and Amy could only hope that Derby hadn’t noticed.

  The man had no idea what he did to her. Amy had been caught off-guard when she saw her best friend’s older brother for the first time. He had been a bit of a wild child, a mop of blond hair that just wouldn’t stay still, and he always seemed to get himself covered in dirt and leaves. As a child, Derby loved to climb trees and pretend that he was Robin Hood. He loved his stories of great heroes.

  That was how Amy had met him the first time. She had been playing with Sarah in the gardens while their parents sat in the morning room and conversed over cups of tea when Derby had literally dropped from the sky in front of her. Amy had screamed, but then she had caught sight of those smiling brown eyes and irrepressible grin, and Amy couldn’t think of anything else. She had been in a bit of a daze for the rest of the day.

  As they had grown up, they had begun to see each other less and less. Derby had taken on the role of earl when he was barely nineteen years of age, and he had taken to burying himself into his books to keep everything at the estate on an even keel. His father had been a kind, generous man, but he had been an awful bookkeeper. His estate hadn’t been in good shape by the time he died, and Derby had spent the better part of two years getting it to how it was currently.

  Whenever they did bump into each other, Amy’s reaction was the same. The cute little boy with the stunning smile had turned into a very handsome man. Even with the tension in his body and the stress in his eyes, the old Daniel Nottage was still there. He always went out of his way to talk with Amy, smiling at her in a way that Amy had come to think was a smile simply for her. She was foolish, of course, but Amy liked to believe he had a special smile that was reserved only for her.

  However, now, her social anxieties were flaring up again. As soon as Derby had walked away, Amy could feel the tension building. The walls began to close in on her again, and Amy felt like her corset had been done up too tight. There was barely anyone in the dining hall, but Amy was sure people were watching her, whispering about her.

  She had to get out of there. Derby may have gone to get her some food — Amy’s stomach growled as a reminder — but the urge to run was greater. Even if it was a childhood friend sitting with her, Amy knew she would mess up and embarrass herself somehow.

  Amy jumped up and hurried out of the room, back into the ballroom. Her father was at the far end near the open windows, talking to Beatrice. They looked deep in conversation, Hartley’s hand resting on his wife’s arm. From a distance, the two of them appeared to be a loving couple. Amy knew better.

  She approached them, giving the dancefloor a wide birth and keeping her head down. She wasn’t about to be dragged into dancing. Not again. Amy just wanted to go home.

  Hartley turned as Amy joined them, scowling at her.

  “There you are, Amy! I was beginning to wonder where you were.”

  “I’m not feeling very well, Father.” Amy pressed her hand to her belly. “I would like to go home now, please.”

  Hartley snorted.

  “Nonsense, the night’s barely started. And you’ve got a full card of dancing partners. It would be rude to leave now.”

  Amy sighed. She wished her father hadn’t put out her dancing card. It had been returned to her completely filled in, and Amy had barely given it a glance before putting it into the pot of a plant as soon as her stepmother had walked away.

  “I’ve not danced all evening apart from Lord Derby. I think it’s safe to say I committed a faux pas a long time ago. And I really am not feeling very well.”

  Hartley rolled his eyes.

  “Honestly, Amy!” he grumbled, “you’re as bad as your mother. Well, you can get the carriage for yourself, if you want, but I won’t be seeing you home. I’m staying here.”

  “I’ll go,” Beatrice offered. “Just to make sure she gets home all right.”

  Amy’s heart sank. Being in a confined space with her father was bad enough, but with her stepmother? Beatrice was just as mean as her husband. She had not a sweet bone in her body, and she made it perfectly clear to Amy. Of course, around everyone else, Lady Beatrice Hartley was the consummate matriarch. Even after the way she had come into the family amidst scandal, Beatrice had shown she could carry herself well in Society.

  Amy knew her parents weren’t particularly liked, but they never let their veneer slip. The masks stayed firmly in place, and nothing she said would be heeded. Even with people’s opinions, she was a mere woman. Amy would be laughed off.

  She tried to maintain her composure as Beatrice took her arm and led her towards the door. They collected their coats and bid their farewells to the hosts, Amy hanging back as Beatrice talked a little too long with the hostess. Then they hurried out into the drizzling rain as their carriage arrived, their driver jumping down to let them in. Amy pressed herself up against the wall, burrowing herself into her cloak, as Beatrice sat opposite her. The door shut, and the carriage rocked for a moment before it started moving, Amy hearing the clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves on the road.

  Beatrice sat back in her seat and shook some of the water droplets off her skirts.

  “You know, Amy,” she said, “lots of men came up to your father tonight.”

  “Did they?”

  “They commented on your beauty on your poise. All of them expressed a desire to court you, to get to know you better.” Beatrice shook her head in disappointment. “But you kept running away or hiding behind Lady Merseyside.”

  Amy stared out the window into the darkness of the streets. She wasn’t interested in conversing with her stepmother. All she wanted to do was go home and go into her bedroom, where she would feel safe.

  “I didn’t want to discuss any kind of subject with anyone,” Amy said, woodenly. “You and Father know I hate social engagements, and I was only there to support Lady Merseyside. She understood.”

  Beatrice snorted rudely.

  “Amy, you can’t hide in the shadows forever. Men have noticed how attractive you are, although I’m not entirely sure what they could find attractive about you. They want to court you, and all you do is embarr
ass me.”

  Chapter Three

  Amy sighed heavily. This was a conversation they seemed to have every other day. She hated it, but her father and stepmother didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. If they did, they simply ignored it. Her discomfort wasn’t in their best interests.

  “Beatrice, you’re trying to force me into a marriage I don’t want. And I don’t want to marry any of the potential matches you and Father have found for me. They’re not desirable in the least.”

  Her stepmother looked like she was about to have a fit. Amy had been terrified of her as a child when the older woman’s face turned bright red, and she seemed to puff up. Amy was surprised she had never completely exploded. But now her appearance, whenever she got angry, was merely tiresome. It was like watching a child get ready to have a tantrum after being told they couldn’t have a sweetie before dinner.