The Seymour Siblings (Fiona Miers' Regency boxsets Book 2)

by Fiona Miers

“Good morning, my lady,” Carson greeted her with a charming smile, but somehow it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Not too well, I’m afraid. It feels as though a coach rode over my head while I was asleep.”

  Carson smiled encouragingly and approached the table. “May I join you?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Wallace.”

  Carson’s brow furrow, yet an amused grin lingered on his lips. “I see we have resorted back to formalities.”

  “I wasn’t certain whether it would be appropriate to address you otherwise,” Lizzie answered, biting her lip.

  “And why would it be inappropriate? You have addressed me by my first name for many years,” Carson stated.

  “Because of last evening, and early this morn,” Lizzie admitted. “My memory seems to fail me, and I have no recollection of what happened after we returned to the ballroom. Apparently, we stole two more bottles of wine.”

  “Which was entirely upon your insistence,” Carson chuckled and glanced at her. “What is the matter, Lizzie?”

  “I feel rather ashamed with regards to my behaviour, Carson. I didn’t intend to drag you into the mess I made by acting so inappropriately,” Lizzie answered her friend truthfully.

  “You did no such thing,” Carson insisted. “And I must admit that I have not had such an enjoyable evening in a very long while.”

  “Truly?” Lizzie asked, surprised.

  “Truly, my dearest Lizzie,” Carson answered. “You cannot recall the rest of the evening, at all?”

  “Not in the least,” She answered. “Can you?”

  “I remember everything,” Carson answered, and a sudden intensity lit up his eyes.

  “We, I mean, you and I…we didn’t…” Lizzie stopped stammering and swallowed hard. How did one ask such a thing?

  “No, Lizzie. You need not worry about that,” Carson assured her.

  Partly, Lizzie was relieved that nothing intimate had happened between them, as she would have preferred to remember such an encounter. And partly she was disappointed that Carson had not thought of perhaps kissing her.

  Perhaps he didn’t think of her in such a manner, which was rather disappointing also.

  Or perhaps Carson was merely saying so to avoid any awkward questions from her.

  “Was that what you were worried about?” Carson inquired.

  “Indeed. I wished to visit you at your home, but I was not certain whether it was safe for me to do so. By now the entire county is aware of how I behaved last evening, and I am well aware that your sister does not think very highly of me,” Lizzie sighed.

  Miss Adrienne had made it no secret that she was not fond of Lizzie, even from years prior. She had constantly reminded Carson that they were from different worlds and that women such as Lizzie expected a certain kind of life. Despite all those things however, he had chosen to be friends with Lizzie and spend time with her.

  “My sister does not dictate whom I can and cannot have in my life.” Carson muttered. “And I enjoy spending time with you.”

  Her breath caught in her throat at the declaration. After being rebuffed so often recently by those she’d thought to be her friends, it was heart-warming to know that she could count on Carson. No matter what.

  “And I enjoy spending time with you as well, Carson, whether I remember it or not.” Lizzie chuckled.

  “Do you recall that we made a pact that if neither one of us are married or betrothed by next Spring, we would marry each other?” Carson inquired.

  His reminder made her blush, heat flooding her cheeks. “It is one of the few things I do recall, yes,” Lizzie answered sheepishly. “I do hope you didn’t find it a tad desperate?”

  Carson waved his hand in the air. “Please, stop fretting. Nothing you do could ever make me see you in a bad light. I promise you that.”

  Lizzie’s heart began to pound in her chest once more. She truly hoped that Carson would know how deeply his words affected her. How she desperately wished that he would embrace her and kiss her in the manner she had always dreamed he would. But alas, it had not happened.

  “That is certainly good to hear.” Lizzie forced herself to say. “I am certain your sister does not feel the same.”

  “I can say the same for your brothers,” Carson chuckled. “His Grace and Will, although very good friends of mine, are certainly not to be countered. What makes matters worse is that you are their younger sister, and I allowed you to return home to in such a state.”

  “My brothers are harmless.” Lizzie grinned with amusement.

  “Are they here, at the estate?” Carson asked, his eyes widening as he glanced in the direction of the long hallway that led to the great hall.

  Lizzie laughed once more and shook her head. “You do not need to fret over them. They are very fond of you, and very grateful that you took it upon yourself to ensure that I arrived home safely. The duke wishes to thank you personally, but he has not had the time to do so.” Lizzie’s expression turned bitter and a scowl formed on her lips. “He and the duchess are too busy in their efforts to evict me from Woodlock Manor.”

  “Evict you?” Carson asked, his tones showing his disbelief. “Why would they wish to do such a thing?”

  “They don’t want me here when the baby is born, which is soon. I am not the kind of aunt they wished I was,” Lizzie sighed, her heart tugging in pain.

  She wanted to be around while her family grew. She didn’t want to leave because they were ashamed of her.

  “Did they say that?” he asked quietly.

  “They didn’t need to, Carson. It was written on their faces as clear as day,” Lizzie answered.

  A quiet moment passed between them and Carson glanced at her. “What are you to do?”

  Lizzie slanted her gaze over to the man she’d idolized since he was a boy. “Perhaps I can stay with you. That would most certainly give everyone in Somerset something to talk about,” Lizzie joked. “Adrienne’s heart would stop.”

  Carson grinned at her, his eyes twinkling. “Indeed.”

  Lizzie’s chuckle faded and she cleared her throat. “But in all honesty, I am not certain what my next step is. Perhaps I should accept my fate and behave like the proper young woman everyone expects me to be.”

  “It is not who you are, Lizzie,” Carson said, flicking his hand dismissively.

  Lizzie glared at him with narrowed eyes. Did he really just say that?

  Carson sat up and continued quickly. “Which I mean in the most honourable manner possible. You cannot pretend to be someone you are not, Lizzie. You and I both know this.”

  “Perhaps it is time I changed something of myself, as I have not had any good fortune with being who I am now,” Lizzie said, lifting her nose high in the air.

  “Do not dare utter such nonsense. You are perfect the way you are,” Carson defended. “And you should not allow any person to make you feel as though you are not worthy, least of all my sister.”

  Lizzie scoffed and shook her head. “I am surprised that she has not found you a wife already.”

  Lizzie cocked her head as she noticed a slight hint of hesitation in Carson’s manner suddenly. Her brow furrowed.

  “While we are on the subject, my lady,” Carson said as he glanced at her, his eyes darkening. “My sister has lost her mind and taken it upon herself to arrange a meeting with Miss Violet Saunders.”

  Lizzie searched her memory. That name rang a bell somewhere.

  “The chief magistrate’s daughter?” Lizzie inquired with surprise as she raised her glass of water to her lips.

  “Indeed.”

  “Why?” Of all the people to introduce to Carson, why Violet Saunders?

  “Adrienne is under the impression that we will be a delightful couple.”

  Cold water spewed from Lizzie’s mouth in an icy spray.

  Carson glanced at her in horror, but only for a moment. Then a smile formed on his lips as he reached for her face and wiped the water from
her chin.

  “That was precisely the reaction I would have given at that moment,” Carson nodded in agreement.

  Lizzie reached for her handkerchief that lay in the pocket of her dress. She quickly dabbed at her wet, cold face, still feeling the tinge of Carson’s touch.

  “What did you tell her?” she demanded. Adrienne couldn’t possibly be thinking of Violet for Carson’s bride.

  “I have never met the young woman, which makes me even more unsettled, but Adrienne is as persistent as she is caring. I had no choice in the matter,” Carson sighed and glanced at Lizzie. “It does not upset you, does it?”

  Lizzie scoffed and shook her head as she placed the glass on the table. “Why would that upset me? You know very well that I wish for you to be happy.”

  Lizzie could not help but feel utterly disappointed by this turn of events. Perhaps if she had the courage to make her feelings for him known, she would not be sitting there on the terrace, hearing of this meeting he now had with Miss Violet.

  A meeting that could potentially lead to a future marriage. Lizzie was aware how insistent and persistent Miss Adrienne was, and Lizzie was quite certain that she would do anything and everything to ensure that Carson married a woman she saw as fitting.

  However, Adrienne was wrong. Miss Violet was not a good fit for Carson at all, but it was certainly not her place to tell him that. She’d probably appear jealous and spiteful.

  In her heart, she tried to convince herself that she was neither of those things. But the multitude of emotions bubbling up inside her – anger, disappointment, guilt, disbelief, resentment, sadness, loneliness – caused her to pause.

  It had become increasingly obvious that Carson meant much more to her than she’d thought.

  “Adrienne is an intelligent woman, and she knows you well. Who better to choose a wife for you than her?” Lizzie eventually asked, forcing a smile.

  “You overestimate her ability to know me, Lizzie,” Carson said with a shake of his head. “There is only one person in the world who knows me better than I know myself,” Carson said with a tender tone in his baritone voice, and his eyes softened significantly. “And that person is you.”

  Lizzie’s heart leapt and she gripped her handkerchief in her lap tightly to stop herself from squealing or something else equally embarrassing.

  “But it is not for me to decide whom you must marry. That choice is solely yours, is it not?” Lizzie asked.

  “We shall see,” Carson muttered. “I am, however, not optimistic with regards to the outcome of tonight’s meeting. I do not believe that love and marriage can be forced.”

  “I agree. Marriage is simply a terrible thing. If one falls in love and finds the one person they wish to spend the rest of their life alongside, then I do not object in the least. But forcing two people who have nothing in common to marry and pretend to be a happy family for the sake of appearances is simply foolish,” Lizzie confessed.

  Her brothers had both found love, and she was happy for them. Marriage suited such alliances.

  “I agree with you. It is simply the part of this world we find ourselves in,” Carson mumbled.

  “Perhaps you and I should escape this world. Clearly there is nothing for us here,” Lizzie suggested.

  “Next Spring,” Carson smiled at her, and an enormous swarm of butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

  The urge to kiss him came forth once more, but she fought it with every cell in her body.

  Now was not the time.

  But… when would it ever be the right time?

  6

  Shadows had formed outside Carson’s window as he stared out at Woodlock Manor in the distance. More specifically, the window of Lizzie’s bedchamber. The flames of a lit chandelier flickered inside, and he wondered what Lizzie was doing. Whether she felt as nauseated as he by the fact that he would be meeting with Miss Violet in a short while.

  He was not oblivious to the underlying emotions he’d seen in her eyes when he’d mentioned Miss Violet, and his sister’s intention to marry him off to the chief magistrate’s daughter. He knew Lizzie well enough to see that it had cut up her peace. In fact, the mere thought of this meeting had him feeling the same way.

  Carson was dressed in his formal dinner attire, with his hair perfectly parted to the side. Although he was not too enthusiastic about the planned evening, he’d still dressed respectfully. His father had enforced unshakeable ethics and morals into him.

  Carson quietly left his chambers and made his way along the long hallway that led to the grand staircase. Downstairs, he could already hear Adrienne’s voice speaking to Miss Violet, and Carson drew in a deep breath, preparing himself for the evening.

  As he reached the bottom of the stairwell, his thoughts immediately drifted to Lizzie, her beautiful smile, her infectious laughter and her bright eyes. No one could compare to her.

  He entered the dining hall and found his sister and Miss Violet standing beside the dinner table, speaking in animated tones.

  “Brother.” Adrienne beamed the moment she noticed him enter and turned to him.

  Carson smiled politely and approached the two young ladies. “Good evening, sister.”

  “My dear brother, may I introduce the lovely Miss Violet Saunders,” Adrienne chimed. “Miss Violet, this is my dear brother, Mr. Carson Wallace.”

  “Good evening, Miss Violet,” Carson greeted with a smile. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “Yours as well, Mr. Wallace,” Miss Violet reciprocated and held out her hand to Carson.

  As social invention dictated, Carson took her hand, brought it to his lips and gently kissed her skin.

  Miss Violet didn’t react in any manner and simply nodded as she withdrew her hand from his. Carson wasn’t certain whether she shared his feelings of wanting to be elsewhere, or if she was as repulsed by him as she appeared to be. Perhaps she was also in love with another and she’d been forced by her father to be here.

  “Miss Adrienne could not stop talking of you, Carson. I simply had to meet the man whom she made sound so intriguing,” Lady Violet said.

  “I can assure you, my sister was exaggerating,” Carson chuckled.

  Lady Violet’s forced laughter unsettled him, and as he glanced at a beaming Adrienne, his smile faded. Didn’t his sister see her friend’s façade?

  “I am rather famished,” his sister said and grasped her hands together. “Shall we?”

  They sat at the dinner table and it was quiet for a moment, much to Carson’s relief. It was only when Miss Violet started to speak that he shifted uneasily in his chair, her voice grating on him.

  Admittedly, she was a beautiful young woman, with dark brown eyes framed with long lashes, and flawless skin. Her golden hair gave her the appearance of a goddess, but there was something about Miss Violet that didn’t appeal to Carson. He was simply not certain what it was.

  “Carson, your sister tells me that you are having the library renovated,” Miss Violet voiced.

  “Indeed. Luckily the carpenters only work until the sun goes down. The racket can be quite distracting,” Carson answered with a nod.

  “I can only imagine. Not even to mention the dust and the mess,” Miss Violet scowled. “Father had our entire family home restored during the summer while Mother and I visited Greece. It was lovely there, although it was quite warm and uncomfortable at times. But lovely, nonetheless. Do you like to travel, Mr. Wallace?”

  “At times, and with the right travel companion,” Carson answered.

  “Oh, I do agree. A good travel companion is worth their weight in gold. Nothing places a damper on a holiday more than someone who does not care for the same things you do,” Miss Violet answered with a nod. “Father allowed me to visit family in Ireland, but they sent my chambermaid with me, as Mother and Father had business to attend to here in Somerset and couldn’t come along. My chambermaid is an older woman with rather stout features, not ideal for walking along the Irish countryside, may I
say. She would complain so much, it was infuriating. Breathing heavily, and the panting was irrationally loud.”

  Carson’s jaw dropped and he glanced at Adrienne. His eyes met only a blank expression. He was not certain how to react to the young woman’s tale, which he found rather offensive. Clearly, she had neither compassion nor empathy for the older, plumper chambermaid who probably had no interest in walking the roads she was forced down.

  “Ireland is a beautiful place,” he managed to say.

  “It was too cold for my liking. I could not stand to wear all those capes and coats. It is not at all flattering,” Miss Violet answered.

  Carson sighed then noticed Adrienne tapping her index finger on the table. He knew that move. His sister now regretted her decision. Not only was Miss Violet uncouth and disrespectful towards people older than her and in lower positions, she was starting to annoy both his sister and him.

  For the duration of their dinner, Miss Violet monopolized the conversation, not truly allowing either of the Wallace siblings to speak for longer than a few moments. They simply sat at the table in awe of Miss Violet’s verbal capacity.

  She spoke of herself and her own experiences so much, that Carson became rather desperate for the night to end, and not to ever have her in his home ever again.

  Carson’s gaze was cast downward, and he was immersed in his own world, far away from Miss Violet. To distract himself from his increasing frustration, he slowly ran his finger along the rim of his glass.

  He stopped as soon as he noticed the silence around him. He looked up at their guest, who gazed at him expectantly.

  Had she asked him a question?

  Carson cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. “My sincerest apologies, Miss Violet.”

  “I do hate to interrupt your thoughts, Carson. Clearly, they were much more important than being present with us,” Miss Violet admonished.

  “Of course not, Miss Violet,” he assured her, though he agreed wholeheartedly.

  “Miss Adrienne spoke of the gardens, and I merely inquired whether you would show them to me.” Miss Violet smiled, fluttering her lashes at him in a conspicuous manner.