by Gill, Tamara
“I think I shall pursue him and see what comes of it. And if I keep his lordship occupied, it will enable you to get to know Lord Hastings better before ye make your choice.” Julia grinned. “It is simply the perfect plan.”
“It seems you have everything all worked out perfectly well, but I have not even decided if I want to seek his interest. You, however, may court Lord Bridgman if ye choose.”
Julia held up her hands in defeat. “Very well, do as ye must, but I think ye should at least see if you suit. It is not often such a stunning pair of men enter our small society. We must make the most of it when we can.”
The door swung open and in walked Georgina, a maid carrying a tray of tea and biscuits close on her heels.
“Good morning, my dears. I hope you all slept well.”
At the benign question, something that Georgina was not known for, Elizabeth considered her friend. “What has happened, Georgina? It is not like you to care.” She grinned, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“I’ve decided to hold a masquerade and you’re both invited.” Georgina picked up a biscuit, taking a generous bite.
“We live with you, Georgina. I think our invitation was always going to be delivered,” Julia said, shaking her head.
“We shall invite everyone in Edinburgh for the Season, and it’ll be the ball of the year. You may invite Lord Hastings, Elizabeth darling. He seemed quite taken with you the other evening.”
She groaned. Julia choked on her tea, tried and failed miserably to mask it with a cough.
“I have just spent the last ten minutes explaining to Julia why I shall leave my options open. He spoke to me once. That does not mean he’s the least interested in getting under my skirts.”
Georgina grinned. “I do adore that I’m rubbing off on you, Elizabeth darling.”
Elizabeth took a sip of tea, better that than to scream at her friend’s teasing ways.
“You shall invite Lord Hastings, but please do not think there is anything between us. I spoke to him once.” She took a calming breath, not wanting to discuss the Englishman anymore. Surely there were other more interesting subjects to talk about than him. Even if the memory of him was amusing and somewhat wicked with his parting words.
Georgina, sensing Elizabeth’s annoyance, thankfully changed the subject. “Well, I had the most delightful dance with Lord Fairfax the other evening. He owns half of the Highlands. I think I may let him pursue me. Did you see him, girls? He was most handsome, was he not?”
Julia nodded, her eyes bright with excitement. “Oh yes, he was an interesting gentleman. He was certainly charmed by your charms, is what I noticed most.”
Georgina threw a grape at Julia, who picked it up off her skirt and plopped it in her mouth. “I think I shall let him kiss me at the mask. I’m sure he will try.”
“You have just come out of mourning. Do you really wish for another husband so soon? If you marry before me yet again, I shall be forever termed the friend who cannot find a husband for herself. People will think that you being around me has enabled men to fall in love with you as they did in England. The good-luck love charm. I’ll be mortified,” Elizabeth declared, already hearing the whispers and tattle that would travel from Scotland all the way to Almacks in London.
“I promise ye, my dear, that I shall not marry again until you are safely in the arms of the man you’ll love forever and a day. But that doesn’t mean I cannot have restrained fun this Season. I’m a widow, after all. As long as I’m discreet,” Georgina said, a wicked glint in her eyes.
“Well, I for one am going to enjoy my time here, as we all should. And we shall help ye in choosing a fine, sweet man who will love you as much as we love you, Elizabeth. He is out there, you know. And one can never say that Lord Hastings is not that man. If he seeks you out again, you must help him on with your regard. If he senses your interest, then you may be able to secure his affections.”
Elizabeth slumped back in her chair, feeling drained and tired from all the work she had before her already, and it was still the first week of the Scottish Season. “My brother would skin me alive if he heard I was acting fast up in Edinburgh. With Sophie expecting, the last thing he needs is for a salacious rumor that his sister has turned rogue when it comes to finding a husband, and then traveling all the way up here to drag me home.”
“He will do no such thing. He is too distracted to take any notice of what we’re all up to in Edinburgh. The first he shall hear of anything will be your betrothal.” Julia set down her cup and clapped her hands, gaining their attention. “Now, my dears, about this ball. What should the theme be, do ye think?”
“Well,” Georgina said, “we could allow the guests to choose, but maybe notable characters throughout history. Thoughts?”
Julia nodded. “Oh yes, I shall go as Cleopatra.”
“Heloise will do well for me. I’m as doomed in love as she is.” Elizabeth was half-joking when she nominated her costume, even so, a small part of her reminded her that just because what all of London believed her to be before she left, a luck charm for her friends, but unlucky herself, did not make it true. This Season she could either let the past dictate her future or she could clasp the fun on offer here in the capital and enjoy herself to the fullest. Living with Georgina allowed more freedom than she’d ever had before. Her friend being a widow enabled her to act as a chaperone too. They could come and go as they pleased, sleep all day and dance all night if they wanted. What more could she ask for?
Julia and Georgina both barked out a laugh, their eyes brimming with unshed tears of mirth. “Oh my dear, you are not going as Heloise. I shall not allow it. No, you shall go as Peitho, the goddess of love and seduction, for that is who ye are and will be not just for this ball, but for the Season. No more lucky charm for others, my dear. It is time ye were the lucky charm for yourself.”
Georgina grinned, nodding. “Peitho it is. Now, we must head down to the dressmaker and have her make our gowns. We must look the best since we’re hosting. Oh, what fun we shall have.”
“What hearts we shall steal,” Julia continued.
“And what kisses we shall enjoy,” Elizabeth finished, smiling and thinking that perhaps, this year, things would be different. She was with two women who were her true friends and had her back at every turn. They would not see her wronged and she would not be a wallflower this year, nor ever again.
Chapter 3
"If you stare at the doors any longer, people will start to think you are a simpleton."
Sebastian tore his gaze away from Sir Fisher's entrance and concentrated instead on the gathered throng of guests. To his surprise, there were many from London. Even a few ladies who had debuted last Season but would seem to not have found a match were present.
"I do not know why Lady Elizabeth is so late this evening. I cannot make her fall in love with me if she is not here." Sebastian said, his tone gruffer than it ought to be, considering Rawden was trying to stop him from looking like a besotted fool, which he was not. Far from it, no matter how tempting Lady Elizabeth was to the eye, she was a means to an end. His way of gaining back a family estate that should never have been lost.
"Your fascination with the doors was gathering interest, and we can't have that." Rawden chuckled, and Sebastian ground his teeth. "But never fear, my friend, the woman who shall be yours has arrived. How fortunate for you both."
Sebastian glared at Rawden, not missing the sarcasm in his tone before. As casually as he could muster, he cast his attention toward the doors. The breath in his lungs seized, his skin prickled. Never had he ever seen someone as beautiful as the woman London had dubbed Lucky Lizzie.
How had the men of his acquaintance not seen her beauty? He swallowed hard, tempering the desire that rose within him at the sight of her.
"What are your plans with Lady Elizabeth? How will you go about courting her without her hearing that your family once owned Halligale? If she hears such a thing, she will be suspicious of you. The chit does
not come across as a simpleton that one can fool."
She was not. Even from the short time they had spent together at the last ball, Sebastian gathered such a truth. "I can only hope she does not. I will tell her, of course, one day, but not until we're wed."
Rawden threw him a disbelieving look. "You are very sure of your charms. What if she is not interested? What shall you do then?"
"There is nothing I can do." He shrugged, hoping that was not the case. He'd always been popular with the opposite sex, never went without when it came to pleasures of the flesh. He cast his eye back to where Lady Elizabeth and her friends made their way through the gathered guests, speaking to those they knew. No, she would be no different, and from the rosy blush that had crossed her features upon their introduction, she would be an easy conquest. "I'm certain she will not be troublesome."
Rawden chuckled, sipping his wine. "I disagree. I think she shall be harder to crack than you think. These Scottish lasses have sturdier backbones than our English flowers. You do know that their national flower is a Thistle. That should give you a little indication of their prickliness."
Sebastian choked on his wine, laughing at his friend’s words. "I consider myself duly warned." He cleared his throat, watching Lady Elizabeth as they came to stand across from them in the room. Her gown was deep purple, almost black, and shimmered under the candlelight as if it had a fine, sheer fabric over the top of the silky material. The color set off her green eyes and pink, kissable lips. His body hummed with the thought of her in his arms. He loved the chase, and she was a worthy and desirable woman to catch.
"Before Lady Elizabeth catches you ogling her like the besotted fool, all but drooling down your chin, care for a game of cards? I have a desire to procure some good, Scottish blunt. The night is young, and you have time to court your lady later in the evening."
"Lead the way," Sebastian said, distracted somewhat by the popinjay leading Elizabeth out onto the dance floor. The fop was a short man, and barely came up to Elizabeth's chin. He would never do for such a striking woman. He narrowed his eyes. Surely that wasn't the type of gentleman Elizabeth wished to be coupled with for the remainder of her life.
Rawden clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. "Stop, Sebastian. You'll scare her away before you have a chance to win her."
Sebastian harrumphed, supposing that may be true.
They paused inside the card room doors, taking in the gentlemen who were already playing. A footman brought over a tray of whisky, the delectable amber liquid just what Sebastian needed.
"Oh, before I forget. I have news, and some I think you'll be pleased with."
"What is it?" Sebastian asked, taking a healthy swallow of his drink.
"This afternoon, we received an invitation from Lady Georgina Dalton to her masquerade ball. The woman your conquest is living with for the Season. There is one hitch. The ball is being held at Lady Dalton's home out of Edinburgh. The estate is quite large from all accounts, and she has opened her home for her guests to stay a day or two afterward if they wish before returning to town."
A mask? How fortunate for such a ball to be held. One always enjoyed such entertainments where they had an edge of secrecy—a place for clandestine rendezvous. "When is it?" he asked, hoping it was soon. The more time he had with Lady Elizabeth, the better his outcome in winning her would be.
"The week after next," Rawden replied.
Rawden gestured to a table that two gentlemen stood up from, leaving the remaining players short. "Care for a game of whist? Let us show these Scottish lads how real men play cards."
"After you," Sebastian said, not quite sure his friend had picked the worst-playing gentlemen in the room, the size of their winnings putting paid to that notion.
"I'll deal," Rawden declared, introducing them to the other two players.
Sebastian sat, played without much thought while his mind debated how to court Lady Elizabeth. He needed to come across as genuine in his regard. He'd never had to act a lovesick fool before, and it would be new, if not somewhat degrading, to do so. Even so, his marrying her was for the best. It meant that Halligale was once again in his family, to be inherited by the future Earls of Hastings.
It was an unfortunate necessity and one he would not fail at. The estate would not be long in Mackintosh hands. Not after this Season, at least.
* * *
By the time Elizabeth arrived at Georgina's estate for the masquerade ball, the preparations were in full swing. Maids ran from room to room, up and down stairs, setting up the ball and the guest rooms. The footmen looked frayed from their endless chores and orders. Standing in the foyer, she pulled off her gloves, not missing the unmistakable sound of Georgina emitting orders from the front parlor. Julia, who traveled with Elizabeth to the estate, rolled her eyes just as Georgina strode into the foyer.
"La, you're here." Georgina handed them both a piece of parchment, pointing at it. "Here are yer chores to do before the guests arrive tomorrow. Do let me know if ye have any questions."
Julia looked over the parchment. She frowned before scrunching up the note in her hand. "Georgina," she said, leading them toward a private sitting room across the hall from the library. "What possessed ye to be so stringent with everyone who's staying here? Ye cannot possibly think we want to do these activities in the short amount of time we're here. I think the ball is adequate enough to keep the guests occupied."
Georgina gaped at Julia as if she'd sprouted two heads.
Elizabeth quelled her smile. "Julia, you're mean. All Georgina wants to do is ensure everyone has a lovely time." She patted her friend's hand, noting Georgina had yet to find her voice.
Julia unfolded the scrunched-up list. "I cannot swim, and yet I'm supposed to be boating out on the loch. Are ye trying to kill your guests with drowning as well as boredom?"
"These suggestions were merely that, a suggestion. I only wanted my guests to know they have plenty of things to occupy their time here. I will not be out on the lawn each morning blowing a whistle and making ye all stand in line if that's what ye think."
Elizabeth grinned, imagining such a scene. "Of course, you won't be, and we never thought ye would. Julia's just in a mood because her aunts are on their way to watch her every move."
"I don't know why they have come. Georgina is a widow, adequate chaperonage for anyone."
Georgina stood and rang the bell for tea. "Not to mention my father has arrived to watch over all of us too. He's come back from London specially. I think he believes I'm still in pigtails." Georgina frowned. "Why did yer aunts insist on coming? They never have before."
Julia sighed. "To be nosy, I would imagine. They have heard the two Englishmen are going to be present and insisted they join the mask."
"I'm sure yer father can be persuaded to keep Julia's aunts occupied. They are of a similar age in any case," Elizabeth said.
"True," Georgina sat just as a knock sounded on the door before a footman brought in a tray of tea.
"Do ye really think people will have time for such games and diversions? They'll arrive, prepare for the ball the following day, and some will travel back to Edinburgh the day after. Must we prepare these events as well? We'll have enough to do with ensuring the ballroom, the food, and the house are ready for so many guests as it is," Julia pleaded.
"I just wanted options." Georgina looked down at her hands, a small frown between her brow.
"It is to yer credit that ye want everyone to have a wonderful time, and they will. The mask is going to be a major success, the ball of the Season. You do not need anything else pulling your guests from what they have traveled here to enjoy." Elizabeth reached out, patting Georgina's hands.
Julia sighed, coming over to sit beside Georgina. "I'm sorry, dearest, for being curt. I'm tired from my travels, that is all. If ye truly want yer guests to do other things at the estate, then we shall, of course, help ye prepare."
Georgina's lips lifted into a small smile. "It's quite alright. I can see th
at I've been overzealous with my planning. The ball is enough. You're quite right."
"Now, do tell us who else is to arrive." Elizabeth settled back in her chair, relieved that her friends were back to being polite to one another.
"Most of our acquaintances from town, the two Englishmen, of course," Georgina said, throwing a pointed stare at her. "Just about everyone we know, but the house is large enough, the staff has been run off their feet this past week. It's been bedlam here, or so I've been told."
"I cannot wait to dance. My costume of Cleopatra is simply divine," Julia said, pouring herself a cup of tea.
Elizabeth listened as her friends discussed their gowns, how they would do their hair, and who they wished to dance with. The mask was certain to be a success, a night of dancing, of mystery and intrigue. She had not attended a masked ball since her first Season in London, and it would be nice to have one here in Scotland.
The idea that this time tomorrow they would be preparing for a ball sent a thrill up her spine. That Lord Hastings would soon be here was a welcome thought. Would he ask her to dance? Or would he stride off yet again without a backward glance as he had done previously?
Would she dance with him if he did ask? She would, of course. If only to see if her heart fluttered in his presence. Or determine that it was merely an odd reaction toward him upon their first introduction.
Time would reveal all, she supposed, at the masked ball.
Chapter 4
Sebastian knocked Rawden's leg, smiled as his friend, whose face was squashed up against the carriage window, stuttered awake and wiped the dribble from his mouth. "I do so enjoy watching you wash the window with your own drool." He laughed as Rawden mumbled unintelligible words before sitting up and trying to wake.
"Are we here then? A ghastly long trip, was it not?"