Brides of London: Regency Romance Collection

by Alec, Joyce

  “Oh, Miss Whitaker.” Lord Ancrum gave himself a slight shake, evidently just recalling that they were meant to be having a conversation. “I must apologize. My mind is filled with a matter of difficulty that I must admit is clouding my thoughts entirely.” He gave her a half smile, appearing somewhat self-conscious. “What was it you were saying?”

  She blinked, seeing that this time, his eyes were fixed upon hers and that he showed no sign of looking away again with distraction. “I do not think we were speaking of anything in particular, Lord Ancrum.” Looking across the drawing room and seeing that her mother was not so much as glancing in her direction to ensure that she was all right, Lydia recalled that she was attempting to change her behavior and her manner within society and, therefore, took a deep breath and asked a rather bold question.

  “What is it, Lord Ancrum, that troubles you so?” she said, seeing how he started slightly in surprise at her honesty. “Is it something that would benefit you by sharing it with another?”

  Lord Ancrum said nothing for a long moment, looking at her steadily and evidently thinking about her suggestion. Then, he let out a long breath, shook his head, and gave her a rueful smile. “That is kind of you to offer, Miss Whitaker, but I fear that our acquaintance is not yet as such that I would be able to do so.”

  Lydia closed her eyes tightly, heat burrowing into her cheeks. “Of course, Lord Ancrum,” she stammered, realizing just how foolish it had been to offer her support when she barely knew the gentleman. “I—”

  “You must not be embarrassed, Miss Whitaker,” Lord Ancrum interrupted, coming a step closer and putting one hand on her arm. “Please, it was a kind offer.”

  She jerked back as his hand patted her arm, her shoulder suddenly flaring with pain. Lord Ancrum let her go at once and stepped back, appearing horrified that he had done something that she found evidently so improper.

  “Oh no, please,” Lydia protested, managing a tight smile as her pain began to ebb away. “It is merely that I have had something of a fall and my shoulder and head ache somewhat.”

  Lord Ancrum stared at her, his face beginning to drain of color until he was a terrible, ashen grey. His grey eyes were wide, swirling with confusion and then apparent realization as she looked back at him, wondering what it was that he was thinking.

  “You had a fall, Miss Whitaker?” he said, so softly that she struggled to hear him. “Was it of your own doing?”

  Confused, she shook her head slowly, a light beginning to dawn as she looked back into his face. “No, no, it was not,” she replied hoarsely, seeing the horror in his face. “A gentleman was in such haste that he bumped into me most severely and I—”

  “I had an urgent note,” Lord Ancrum whispered, closing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head and rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. “I should have ensured that you were all right but I saw that another gentleman had come to your aid and such was the urgency of my errand that I had no time to turn back to you.” He groaned aloud and closed his eyes again. “Goodness, Miss Whitaker, what must you think of me?”

  Lydia drew in a long, shuddering breath that ran straight through her. A rush of cold water seemed to crash over her head and run all over her, as she suddenly recalled the gentleman who had bumped into her and realized, all at once, that it had been Lord Ancrum. Such had been the shock of her fall that she had believed herself not to know who the gentleman was but now that she knew the truth, it all became very clear.

  “You walked away from me,” she breathed, blinking furiously to attempt to keep her composure. “I was knocked to the ground, Lord Ancrum!”

  “I know, I know,” he replied, his expression dark and twisted. “It is no excuse but there was a great urgency in my errand. A matter of severity, truly.”

  Lydia did not know what to say. Lord Ancrum appeared quite contrite, but the truth of the matter was, he had treated her terribly and had then continued on his way as though she mattered nothing to him.

  “I shall make it up to you, Miss Whitaker,” Lord Ancrum pleaded, his full attention now solely fixed upon her and only her. “I know you must think of me as nothing more than an idiotic gentleman, selfish and arrogant, but I will prove otherwise to you, should you permit me.” He swallowed hard, his jaw working hard for a moment. “I know you are aware of my reputation, but I would not have you believe that I am still that sort of gentleman. Believe me, I am doing all I can to change society’s perception of me and I would include you in that in a much more personal fashion, should you allow me.”

  Lydia considered for a long moment, looking at Lord Ancrum and letting her mind work through all that he had said. She wanted to rail at him, wanted to be angry with him and explain to him, quite clearly, just how badly he had hurt her with both his treatment of her and his disregard for what had occurred thereafter. However, as she regarded him, she allowed herself to consider what it was that she herself was pursuing and whether or not Lord Ancrum could aid her with that.

  Taking in three full breaths, Lydia settled her shoulders and lifted her chin a notch.

  “Lord Ancrum, I shall be honest with you,” she began, seeing how his gaze grew in intensity as he focused entirely on her. “My parents, Lord and Lady Templeton, care very little for me. They come to London to enjoy the Season for themselves and do not show much consideration for what it is I do.” She took in a steadying breath, having never considered just how difficult it might be to speak so openly to another about what had long been her own personal struggles. “For some years, I have done my utmost to behave with propriety and without fault, but given that my parents do not care whether I wed or not, I have ended up lingering in the shadows and standing with the wallflowers.” She saw a flicker of a frown cross his forehead, perhaps remembering how she had been the first time they had met. “Therefore, having grown tired of such a thing, I decided to change my manner within society which comes by how we were first introduced.”

  Lord Ancrum’s expression cleared, nodding in understanding. “I find that to be very saddening to hear, Miss Whitaker. To be so disregarded by one’s own parents must be difficult to endure.”

  Lydia’s smile tightened. “Indeed,” she replied, not wanting to linger on the matter. “However, if you are as eager as you say to improve my consideration of you, then mayhap you could aid me in my endeavors.”

  Lord Ancrum nodded fervently, as if he were beginning to understand what she meant.

  “I would ask you to help me within society, aid me with introductions and the like, and mayhap…” She took in a quick breath, tension rolling about in her stomach. “Show me some particular attention—although nothing too obvious, of course.” A rueful smile caught her mouth. “I should not like to have others consider that there is something more between us than there truly is.”

  Lord Ancrum did not hesitate for a moment. “After what I have done and how I have treated you, this is the very least of what I can do, Miss Whitaker. I should be glad to do all that you ask and more, should you need it from me.” He managed a small smile, looking deeply relieved. “I thank you for your willingness to give me a second opportunity to prove myself.”

  “I think you are much too concerned, Lord Ancrum,” she told him, beginning to feel a good deal of happiness over what was to now pass between them. “If I thought poorly of you, then I hardly think that anyone within society should care to listen to my considerations.”

  He shook his head, looking suddenly embarrassed. “But I should care deeply,” he replied softly. “I am very glad to know that you will not think poorly of me—or at least allow me to prove that you need not think me a rake or a rogue. I know I have done very little to evidence this, but I have every intention of proving that I am reformed and determined not to behave so foolishly again. Might I suggest that I call upon you tomorrow afternoon? Mayhap a walk in the park?”

  “That would be very pleasing, Lord Ancrum,” she replied, her heart suddenly fluttering with a new anticipation. “I l
ook forward to seeing you then.”

  “As do I,” he answered, with evident enthusiasm.

  Tilting her head to one side, Lydia regarded Lord Ancrum with fresh eyes, seeing the earnestness that had been there the first time she had met him. Do be careful, she told herself, as he bowed and took his leave of her. You might very easily fall in love with such a gentleman and that would not do you any good whatsoever. He is willing to help you become more known within society and that is all. Do not allow your heart to become involved.

  But yet, even though she gave herself a stern talking to and decided firmly that she would not allow her heart to be affected in any way, Lydia could not quite quell the excitement that came with the knowledge that tomorrow, she would be out walking on the arm of the Earl of Ancrum.

  5

  The knowledge that he had hurt Miss Whitaker bored into Joseph’s mind, making him wince every time he thought of it. He had known at the time that he had behaved badly, but he had justified it with the knowledge that Lady Starling required his presence most desperately. He had also seen a gentleman hurrying towards the fallen lady and so had continued on his way, his thoughts centered solely on Lady Starling.

  Now, however, he was to have two tasks instead of just the one. Yes, he would help Lady Starling and yes, he would also ensure that Miss Whitaker was given the introduction into society that she had long required.

  Glancing up at the imposing townhouse, Joseph silently wondered whether Lord Templeton would even know that Miss Whitaker would be accompanying him on a walk in the park. Would Lady Templeton ensure that Miss Whitaker had a chaperone, or would she still be abed and expect Miss Whitaker to do such a thing for herself? He shook his head to himself sadly and rapped loudly at the door, feeling a sadness for Miss Whitaker’s circumstances that grasped at his heart. He was grateful for her honesty and glad that she had been able to share with him the troubles that bound her so. Privately, Joseph wondered if she had ever spoken of such things to anyone before, or if he was the first. A slow smile crept across his face as he considered the matter, beginning to feel that same sense of pride in his heart that had first begun when Lady Starling had begged for his help.

  “Good afternoon, my lord.”

  The door was opened by the butler, who stood to Joseph’s left, evidently waiting for him to come in.

  Joseph cleared his throat. “Is Miss Whitaker ready to accompany me?” he asked the butler, only taking two small steps over the threshold. The butler frowned, then glanced up the stairs as though he expected Miss Whitaker to appear at any moment. “Lord Ancrum,” Joseph added, realizing the butler might not know who he was. “Miss Whitaker is to walk with me in the park.”

  “I shall send someone for her at once,” he replied, making Joseph’s smile fade. “If you will give me but a moment, Lord Ancrum.”

  Joseph had no other choice but to remain where he stood, his hat in his hands as the butler hurried away. There was barely a sound coming from the rest of the house. It was deathly silent and a small shiver ran over Joseph’s frame. The house seemed so unwelcoming, with an almost hostile air. Was that to do with those who lived within the four walls? Or was it just his imagination?

  The sound of heavy footsteps caught Joseph’s attention and he turned his head to see an older gentleman walking from one room to the staircase, although he did not seem to notice Joseph. His thin, grey hair was matted and dank, pressed to the gentleman’s head as if he had been out in a rainstorm. He was not properly dressed but was only in his shirt and pantaloons, the former of which was pulled out from the pantaloons with the sleeves dangling, unbuttoned, over the gentleman’s hands. A button was missing and the gentleman’s rotund stomach was protruding through the gap, with the shirt itself stained and dirty. The man’s eyes were haggard, his lips loose and muttering something incomprehensible. It was only when the fellow grasped the rail to help him climb the stairs that he seemed to realize that he was no longer alone.

  The hand left the rail as the man turned around.

  “Who might you be?”

  Joseph blinked at the unfriendliness of his tone. “I am the Earl of Ancrum,” he replied, as calmly and clearly as he could. “I am come to take Miss Whitaker for a walk in the park.”

  The gentleman said nothing for some moments, his gaze resting on Joseph although his eyelids were beginning to droop already. Joseph did not know what to do or say, seeing how the man swayed a little as he continued to survey Joseph. Was this Miss Whitaker’s father, Lord Templeton?

  “She is not worth your time.”

  The words stunned Joseph, who stared down at Lord Templeton in shock.

  “Spend your time on someone who is worth something,” the man continued, shaking one large, pudgy finger in Joseph’s direction. “That girl is plain, uninteresting, and—”

  “I should not say so.”

  It was rather improper for Joseph to interrupt a gentleman when he spoke and certainly more than a little rude to entirely contradict what was being said, but the more Lord Templeton spoke of Miss Whitaker, the more Joseph found himself growing angry with his sheer disregard for her.

  Lord Templeton stared back into Joseph’s face for a moment or two, his jaw slack—and then, he began to laugh. His jowls shook as he shook his head, clearly believing that Joseph was nothing more than a fool.

  “You cannot truly have consideration for her,” he told Joseph, his eyes narrowing. “She is nothing to anyone, aside from myself and her mother.” He rolled his eyes to express just how poorly he felt Miss Whitaker did as his daughter. “We must show her some consideration, I suppose, given that we are her family, but there is no need for you to pretend, Lord Ancrum.”

  A ripple of anger ran up Joseph’s spine, his hands slowly clenching into fists. He did not even know Miss Whitaker particularly well, but the way her own father spoke of her was rousing in him such anger that he did not know what to do with it. He wanted to verbally lash out, to tell Lord Templeton that he ought not to speak of Miss Whitaker in such a way and that she was of more significance than he gave her credit for, but if he were to speak such things, he doubted that Lord Templeton would even listen. It was clear that he already had formed a strong opinion of his daughter, one that would not be shaken from him.

  “I will state this only once, Lord Templeton,” Joseph said clearly, taking a small step closer to Miss Whitaker’s father and looking down at him, for the man was a full head shorter than he. “I do not come to call on Miss Whitaker out of anything other than a true desire to do so. I do not think as little of her as you, it seems, and for that I am both grateful and sorrowful.”

  Lord Templeton’s mouth lifted in a sneer. “You do not know her particularly well, then, if you think she has any exceptional worth. She is nothing more than a wallflower and is, I am certain of it, destined to remain as such.” He chuckled darkly, one eyebrow lifted. “There will be no seeking to court my daughter, Lord Ancrum. You will not wish to wed her and make her your bride.”

  Joseph’s jaw set hard. He knew that he did not have any intention of truly courting Miss Whitaker and that his time with her was simply to encourage society to take notice of her so that she might find happiness with another more suited to her, but her father did not need to know such a thing.

  “I have every intention of bringing Miss Whitaker a good deal of happiness,” he told Lord Templeton, hating how the gentleman rolled his eyes again, his sneer leaching across his face. “And I shall not be prevented from doing so. You claim that she is nothing more than a wisp who fades from everyone’s sight, but I can assure you that she has not fallen out of my gaze.”

  Lord Templeton’s smile grew ugly and he opened his mouth to say more, only for the sound of a loud, audible gasp to catch their attention. Miss Whitaker herself was standing at the top of the staircase, her eyes wide and one hand pressed to her mouth. Joseph did not know how long she had been standing there, nor just how much she had overheard, but from the look on her face, she was utterly as
hamed of her father’s conduct and appearance.

  “Enjoy your time with my daughter, Lord Ancrum,” Lord Templeton muttered, his sarcasm pouring through every word. “I do not expect to see you here again.”

  “Then you are mistaken,” Joseph replied firmly, growing defensive of Miss Whitaker and keeping his eyes fixed on Lord Templeton. “As I have said, I intend to bring Miss Whitaker as much happiness as I can.”

  Lord Templeton snorted in disdain, shook his head as if to suggest that Joseph were nothing more than a fool, and then turned to climb the staircase.

  “Your mother is still abed, I believe,” Joseph heard Lord Templeton say, as he drew near his daughter. “That is just as well.”

  Miss Whitaker closed her eyes tightly, her hand white as she gripped the rail, before she took in a shaking breath and then continued down the staircase to meet him.

  “I am so terribly sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, looking up at him with glistening eyes. “I did not know that he…” She shook her head and a single tear fell onto her cheek. Miss Whitaker brushed it away almost immediately, clearly embarrassed to have been seen weeping. “I thought my father was still abed, Lord Ancrum. I did not know that he had awoken else I should not have been tardy.” Her light blue eyes caught his, their color seeming darker now that she battled her tears. “My mother required me, else I should have been waiting for you.”