London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection

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London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 4

by Joyce Alec


  By the evening, some of Susanna’s fears had been assuaged. The rest of the guests—twelve in total—had arrived soon after them and Susanna had been able to escape to her bedchamber for a short time to rest before dinner. It was a room with a view toward the sea, and Lady Pendleton had spent a good deal of time exclaiming over it, whilst Susanna had kept her thoughts entirely to herself as regarded her aunt’s behavior.

  However, now that they were seated at dinner with the other guests, Lord Knightsbridge, and his mother, Susanna found herself relaxing just a little. Lord Knightsbridge was not frowning darkly as he had done before and was, in fact, smiling on occasion at something someone had said. When he smiled, Susanna noticed that his entire expression lit up, so that he no longer appeared as disapproving as she had first thought. It did not appear that he knew what she had done as yet, but Susanna wanted to have the opportunity to speak to him directly, in the hope that the easier manner that was beginning to emerge would still remain when they conversed. Only then would she lose some of her anxiety.

  “Miss Millerton, your thoughts are precisely as my own.”

  Susanna smiled tightly at the honorable Mr. Easthill, who was seated to her right and who had monopolized their conversation for a good ten minutes so far. She knew him to be the cousin of Lord Knightsbridge and he had told her many times just how grateful he was to have been invited. “Thank you, Mr. Easthill.”

  “I must say, I—”

  “Allow me to interrupt, Miss Millerton,” said a voice on her left.

  At this, Mr. Easthill waved a hand and murmured something to her, before turning his head and beginning to speak to the lady on his right. With relief, Susanna turned to the lady on her left.

  “I did think Mr. Easthill had spoken for some time,” the lady said, her eyes twinkling. “Shall we speak of something else?”

  “Indeed,” Susanna murmured with gratitude. “I would be very pleased to do so.”

  The lady smiled. “Wonderful.” As the lady continued to speak, Susanna searched her memory for her name, recalling quickly that it was a Miss Longleat.

  “I think you said that your father has remained at home?”

  Susanna nodded. “My father remains at his estate, yes,” she said as the lady’s eyes studied her with interest. “I am afraid that he was much too busy with business to attend.”

  Miss Longleat smiled, her eyes still searching Susanna’s face as though she were seeking some long-held secret. “I quite understand,” she said with a small shrug. “My brother is very busy indeed, although I am very glad he allowed my mother and I to attend.”

  Susanna smiled back in response. She did not much like Miss Longleat’s searching gaze but there was a friendliness there that Susanna responded to. “My father sent my aunt with me,” she said, indicating Lady Pendleton, who was sitting opposite Susanna. “She is very glad to be here also, I believe. She is already acquainted with Lady Knightsbridge, although I myself was only introduced when we arrived.”

  Miss Longleat tilted her head. “And were you well acquainted with Lord Knightsbridge before this house party?” she asked, and Susanna shook her head. “You were not?”

  “I only met the gentleman on one occasion, prior to this,” Susanna told her as Miss Longleat’s eyes widened. “I certainly would not consider myself to be well acquainted with him.”

  A small sigh of what Susanna considered to be relief escaped from Miss Longleat, as she pressed one hand against her heart.

  “I am very glad to hear that, Miss Millerton,” Miss Longleat said, a trifle breathlessly. “I thought that I was the only one who was not well acquainted with him.” She nodded toward some of the other guests. “There are those who are able to converse with great ease and yet, whenever I attempt to speak to him, I find myself tongue-tied!” Her cheeks flushed and she let out a small, dry laugh. “He is very handsome indeed, of course.”

  Susanna considered for a moment, then let her shoulders lift in a small shrug. “There are many handsome gentlemen present this evening,” she said as Miss Longleat’s brows drew up. “I do not think our host is particularly distinguished amongst them.”

  Miss Longleat said nothing for some moments, her cheeks flaring hot as she looked at someone beyond Susanna. Turning her head slowly, Susanna suddenly saw that Lord Knightsbridge himself was watching them carefully, although no question sprang from his lips, nor any other remark. Susanna held his gaze for a moment or two, feeling heat climb up into her face as she did so.

  “I think he must have overheard your remark,” Miss Longleat murmured, her voice much lower now as though Lord Knightsbridge could hear everything, even though he sat some seats away. “I do hope you have not offended him.”

  Susanna forced her gaze away from Lord Knightsbridge and made herself smile as she looked back at Miss Longleat. “I hardly think so,” she said with what she hoped was a confident smile. “And even if he has done so, I hardly think that it was anything akin to an insult.”

  Miss Longleat nodded but continued to watch over Susanna’s shoulder, whilst Susanna herself did not permit herself to look back at their host. There was something about his steady, unflinching gaze that sent waves of awareness and embarrassment through her, even though she convinced herself that he had not heard what she had said about him.

  “Do you think we shall have an opportunity to dance with him?” Miss Longleat asked out of the corner of her mouth. “I have heard that at some house parties, there is a ball!”

  Susanna dared a glance at Lord Knightsbridge and saw, much to her relief, that he was no longer watching her. “There may very well be,” she said with a small smile. “Although I am not certain that, should he have heard me speak as I did, I shall have any opportunity to dance with him.”

  This made Miss Longleat laugh and the sound pushed aside the rest of Susanna’s fear and anxiety. She did not look toward Lord Knightsbridge again for the rest of the dinner, choosing instead to speak to the other guests and telling herself that, whether he had heard her or not, she had nothing to fear from him. Perhaps everything would turn out well and she would be able to return home at the end of the week, without having revealed anything about herself to Lord Knightsbridge.

  “I do hope you have enjoyed your evening, Miss Millerton.”

  Susanna caught her breath but did not react as she looked up to see Lord Knightsbridge himself standing just behind her. Having just applauded one young lady’s performance on the pianoforte, they were now all waiting for the next young lady to take her seat so that the music might continue.

  “I am, I thank you,” Susanna murmured, dropping her head so that she would not have to crane her neck to look at him. “It has been a very enjoyable evening, certainly.”

  The earl did not say anything in response for some moments and Susanna wondered if he would simply move away and speak to another guest, but instead, he remained directly beside her. Susanna felt her heart pounding furiously, a wave of nervousness gripping her. Part of her felt like apologizing for the remark she had made to Miss Longleat, in case he had overheard her, but she restrained herself with an effort. There was nothing she needed to apologize for, and she might very well embarrass herself all the more should she speak so.

  “You will permit me?”

  She looked up again to see him gesturing to the empty seat beside her. Her stomach tightened all the more as she nodded, knowing she could not refuse him and yet suddenly afraid that he would speak to her about the notes she had been writing to him. Had he always known? Had the reason for her invitation been solely so that he might speak to her directly about them?

  “I should like to apologize to you, Miss Millerton.”

  Her gaze shot to his face as he spoke, his voice slightly raised so that he could be heard over the music of the pianoforte, clearly rather disinterested in the piece that the young lady was playing.

  “Apologize, Lord Knightsbridge?” she repeated, frowning as he nodded. “What is it that you wish to apologize for?
I cannot think that you have done anything wrong.”

  Lord Knightsbridge turned his head to look at her, his gaze a trifle foreboding as he held her gaze. The corner of his mouth lifted, a quirking of his lips that took some of the gravity from his expression.

  “You are much too kind, Miss Millerton,” he told her, “but the way I behaved this afternoon upon your arrival was quite rude.”

  Susanna felt surprise grasp at her heart but struggled to keep it from her expression. “Please, Lord Knightsbridge,” she said, lifting her hand for just a moment. “There is nothing you need to apologize for.”

  “Indeed, I do,” he insisted firmly. “If only so that my mother will not continue to rail at me for it.”

  This made Susanna smile and as she did so, she saw a new light come into Lord Knightsbridge’s eyes as he returned her smile with one of his own. In that moment, Susanna knew that what she had said of him to Miss Longleat was quite incorrect. He was a handsome gentleman and certainly much more so than any of the other gentleman present. That awareness brought with it a swell of heat that seemed to run through her veins with such speed that she found her breath quickening as she tried her best to keep her composure.

  “You have every right to laugh at me, Miss Millerton, even though I can see that you are doing your level best not to do so,” he continued, that smile still lingering about his mouth. “But whilst I can well understand the reason for your mirth, it does not detract from the truth that I behaved in a rude fashion toward both you and your aunt this afternoon.” He inclined his head. “I should not have turned on my heel to walk away without some sort of explanation.” Lifting his head, he looked at her again, his expression now rather grave. “I beg your forgiveness, Miss Millerton, and assure you that I shall never do such a thing again.”

  Susanna did not know what to say. She wanted to apologize for her aunt’s rudeness in expressing her desire for a particular room but found herself quite unable to do so, given the way that the words would not come to her mind. She wanted to tell him that she quite understood that the changing of rooms would have taken him a few minutes to communicate to his staff, but instead all she could do was nod.

  “You forgive me, then,” he said with a sigh of relief. “My mother shall have no need to continue railing at me now, given that you have offered me your forgiveness so easily.”

  “It was nothing of significance,” she managed to say, seeing how he dismissed her words with a mere wave of his hand. “Pray, do not trouble yourself on such a thing any longer.”

  The music came to a triumphant end and both Susanna and Lord Knightsbridge began to applaud.

  “I shall allow my mind to have a little peace,” he told her, leaning a little closer so that she could hear him over the applause. “I thank you.” And so saying, he rose from his chair and moved toward the front of the room, ready to thank the young lady who had only just completed her piece.

  Susanna let out a long breath, feeling a swell of relief spread across her chest as she did so. It seemed that Lord Knightsbridge did not know that she had been the one to send him the notes and that his behavior earlier had been simply because he had, perhaps, been out of sorts or mayhap a little confused over her aunt’s request for a particular room. There was nothing that she needed to worry about, it seemed, when it came to Lord Knightsbridge. Perhaps she would be able to enjoy the sennight within his magnificent estate and grounds without any need for her to do anything more.

  The notes will be given to you as before.

  A sudden memory sent a shudder through her, her body turning to ice for just a moment as the man’s voice echoed through her mind. No, she remembered, she would not be able to merely enjoy this time here with Lord Knightsbridge. The notes would, somehow, continue to be given to her and she would have to do as was expected. Quite how such a thing would happen, she did not know, but Susanna knew she could not refuse. There was too much at stake for her to do so.

  Closing her eyes, Susanna let the piano music drift over her. The piece was a trifle melancholy and Susanna felt her heart resonate with it. Even now, the joy had been robbed from her, stolen by the memory of what she now had to do. Lord Knightsbridge had spoken to her as though she were simply another guest, someone that he would meet with, speak with, and perhaps even dance with throughout the course of the house party, without having even the slightest inkling that she was the one sending such despicable notes.

  And clearly, Lord Knightsbridge was obeying the directions written within, else she would not have been required to continue sending them.

  Could you tell him?

  The thought slammed into her mind, hard, but Susanna dismissed it at once. She could not tell Lord Knightsbridge of what she had been forced to do for fear of how he would react. Would he throw her from his estate? Demand that she return home within the hour? And what would the consequences be for her should she do so? Susanna had little doubt that something untoward would occur should she even whisper a few words to Lord Knightsbridge, even though she could not imagine who might overhear their conversation.

  No, she shook her head. There was too much at risk, too much to fear, for her to ever tell Lord Knightsbridge the truth. For the moment, she would have to remain silent and pretend that she was nothing more than another guest, enjoying her time at his house party. She could not risk anything else.

  4

  “You are enjoying the party thus far, then?”

  Benedict did not much like the look in his mother’s eyes as she sailed into his study, without having knocked or sought his permission to enter.

  “Good morning, Mother,” he said without a smile. “You appear to be in very high spirits this morning.”

  She laughed and threw herself into a chair by the window, although her eyes were still fixed upon him. “You are still trying to pretend as though you are very upset about this situation, are you not?” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I think you quite foolish, Benedict. I saw how you conversed and laughed and enjoyed the company of others last evening.”

  Benedict began to frown. “Mother, just because I enjoyed the evening does not mean that I am now thoroughly convinced that the house party was a wise idea.”

  Lady Knightsbridge trilled a laugh again and Benedict gritted his teeth, wishing his mother was not in such a buoyant mood. He could not be, for even though the house party was not as disastrous as he had feared, he was still on tenterhooks, waiting for the next note to arrive and wondering if he would be able to keep his guests both safe and unaware of the difficulty that surrounded him.

  “Miss Longleat is very lovely, is she not?” his mother said, her tone changing completely. “She is rather timid when it comes to speaking to you, however.”

  Benedict shrugged. “I am sure she will gain confidence in time.”

  “But only if you give her a little encouragement!” his mother exclaimed, throwing up her hands as though he needed to be reminded of his duties as host. “She will certainly respond to you, I am sure.”

  Eyeing his mother carefully, Benedict shook his head. “Mother, I am not inclined toward Miss Longleat, if that is what you are thinking about.”

  She trilled a laugh again and Benedict’s jaw worked furiously, attempting to keep his temper well under control. This was when he found his mother to be very difficult indeed, when she was still pressing him toward a young lady that he had no intention of showing any interest to. It did not seem to matter just how many times he told her this, she was just as determined as before.

  “What about any of the other young ladies?” his mother asked, one eyebrow arched. “Have any of them caught your eye?”

  “No,” Benedict said firmly. “You need not ask me again either, Mother. I have no intention of opening my heart to any of them.” He did not continue to look at her but returned his gaze to the letter on his desk, fully intending to return to his business whether or not his mother wished him to do so. Picking up the letter with one hand, he made every attempt to peruse it
but could not help but be fully aware of his mother as she sat there quietly, studying him with her sharp eyes.

  Exasperated, Benedict let out a long sigh and lifted one eyebrow as he looked toward his mother. “Might you excuse me, Mother?” he said pointedly. “I have a good deal to do this morning before we continue on with our guests.”

  His mother let out a long, heavy sigh and pushed herself out of her chair with yet another dramatic sigh.

  “Thank you,” Benedict said, not allowing his mother’s melodramatic air to affect him in any way. “I will see you at the dining table later this morning.”

  Lady Knightsbridge sniffed dramatically and turned her head away from him, but Benedict did not change his mind. He wanted nothing other than a little peace and quiet before having to return to his guests.

  However, no sooner had his mother left the room than there came a scratch at the door, alerting him to the arrival of his butler.

  “Enter,” Benedict called, and the butler came in at once, pushing the door aside with one hand and carrying a small, silver tray in the other.

  Benedict’s stomach dropped.

  “My lord,” the butler said, bowing as he held out the tray. “This letter was discovered.”

  Benedict frowned. “Discovered?”

  The butler nodded although there was a flicker of a frown dancing across his forehead. “It was just by the front door, my lord.” A slight hesitation came before he continued to speak. “I do not know if a footman received it and then placed it down before it could be delivered. Perhaps they were distracted by one of your guests—but I shall make certain that they know full well not to do such a thing again!”

  Benedict’s stomach tightened as he took the letter, seeing the red wax that bore no seal upon it. “I see,” he said tightly, thinking that the butler’s explanation was the most genuine. “I am sure that someone was merely distracted, as you say.”

 

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