Secrets of a Fair Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  With that, Isla took a deep breath and stepped away as Beatrice leaned against the wall, suddenly aware of how alone she was.

  Chapter 2

  Lord Peter Hawthorn, Earl of Willoughby, and his dear friend Andrew Beckridge, the Baron of Ryle, had arrived at a good time. There were certainly a number of people around, but it was not overly crowded and he wasn’t worried about being unable to find Lord Seton or his daughter.

  “I wish to find a refreshment. Would you care to join me?” Andrew asked, blue eyes shining with excitement.

  Peter laughed.

  “As much as I would love to indulge in a bit of brandy, I should probably be looking for Lord Seton and my future bride,” he said.

  “Yes, I suppose. And you said that she is quite beautiful? How are you meant to find a beauty in here? There are so many lovely women,” Andrew said.

  “Indeed there are, but I am looking for the lady of the house. She has brown hair and a lovely, youthful face. I don’t know much more than that, but most of the women that I see are older,” Peter said.

  “Oh, well, if you cannot find her, you will just have to find her father and ask him,” Andrew said.

  “Yes, precisely. Anyway, go and enjoy your refreshments,” Peter said.

  Andrew looked only too eager as he marched off toward the table.

  Peter, meanwhile, greeted a few of the men that he knew as he looked around the room. Finally, there she was.

  A stunning young lady, instructing a maid where she was meant to take some of the drinks, stood very near the back wall.

  “Yes, I believe they are meant to go on the main table. I saw that some of the glasses were empty, so if he told you to bring more, I assume he wanted it replenished,” the young woman said.

  Isla Seton. She really was rather stunning.

  She looked up at him, those eyes more beautiful than he could have imagined. Heavily lidded, they gave her a dreamy look. Her pout was exquisite and the button nose above her lips was delicate in her face. Relief washed over him that he found his future bride absolutely stunning.

  He had never imagined that she would be this lovely. He only hoped that her behaviour was equally stunning.

  “Good evening,” Peter greeted.

  Her face lit up at his approach and he imagined she had probably heard a description of him just as he had of her.

  “Good evening, My Lord,” she said, curtseying. There was something about her demeanor that showed her nerves, but she held herself quite well.

  “It is quite a nice party, I can see. Am I late?” he asked.

  “Certainly not. It would not be fashionable to arrive early, would it?” she asked, grinning.

  “No, I suppose not. But the estate is lovely. Truly,” Peter said.

  “Yes, it is. Some days I can hardly believe I get to wake up here,” she said.

  “I am sure. So, what is on the order of the evening?” Peter asked.

  “What is usually?” she replied. “I am sure that there will be much feasting, a good deal of drinking, some gentleman shall say something provocative, a debate shall ensue and then we shall all settle into fits of laughter.”

  Peter laughed heartily. She certainly had made a good assumption.

  “Yes, that is probably the case. And I imagine that Lord Vermore shall be the one who starts it all,” Peter said.

  It was evident that she didn’t know who he was speaking about. And why should she? Not all young women knew their father’s friends.

  “Oh, my apologies. I meant that fellow over there,” he said, eyeing the large man with the red nose and an empty glass. As if on cue, Lord Vermore was reaching for another.

  “Yes, indeed, I can definitely see that as a possibility. He certainly appears to be the sort who might indulge a little bit too much with his beverages,” she remarked.

  “Well, nothing like my own father did in the past. He was not a drunkard by any means,” Peter was quick to clarify, lest Lady Isla should think that he came from a family with a poor manner and bad reputation.

  “Well, that is good,” she said, smiling.

  “Yes, but he did enjoy a party. Once, when I was only just beginning to join him at a variety of social engagements, he told one gentleman that it was shocking how often the man’s wife wore pasted jewels. He was livid! But my father had heard my mother comment on it and, in his state of mind, decided that it was an appropriate remark to make in public,” Peter said, laughing.

  Lady Isla laughed as well, giggling in a sweet way. It made her lovely nose crinkle and Peter was shocked that things were going so well.

  They had only had a few minutes together and there was no way to say that things were going to continue to go well, but at least for the moment it appeared that they were getting along. That much made Peter very happy.

  “And what about you? Do your mother and father ever get into any scrapes?” he asked.

  “Oh, nothing like that. I think they work too hard to indulge themselves in that way,” Lady Isla said.

  It sounded about right. After all, Lord Seton was a very diligent man and he was well-known for his efforts. There was hardly a time that went by when he wasn’t doing something or striving toward something new and better.

  “Well, that is probably for the best. I am sure that your father would be glad to know that he has such a reputation,” Peter said.

  “Yes, he has worked hard for it,” she replied. “Of course, that doesn’t mean that I never managed to do anything silly.”

  “Oh? You must tell me. What sort of misdemeanours did you get yourself into?” he asked, enthralled and looking forward to her story.

  “Well, there was the time that I was at my aunt’s home, and I accidentally broke into a bottle of sherry. Mind you, I had no idea what it was. I thought that it was simply some lovely cordial,” she said.

  “Oh, dear! I cannot imagine what must have come of that,” Peter said, already imaging what hilarity had ensued.

  “Well, I was eight years of age, so even when the taste was not quite what I expected I was rather curious. My father, however, was terribly angry at me until my aunt confessed that it had been her fault for not watching me more closely,” Lady Isla said.

  “That was kind of her to take the responsibility,” he said.

  “Indeed, it was. But it hardly changes the fact that I ought to have stopped drinking it anyway. My mother and father always told me that water and tea were the only things I should consume in great amounts. That even milk was precious,” she said.

  Peter was impressed. He had never thought of someone as wealthy as Lord Seton instilling an appreciation for cost in their daughter. It was nice to know that she was not someone who believed in indulging everything.

  “Well, that is very good. I am glad to know that you have a care for things like that,” Peter said.

  “Of course, I must. It would be wrong to waste things. So, although my aunt was so kind, I did know better. It was just that I knew better on a wholly other matter,” Lady Isla said.

  Peter found himself eyeing her for a moment longer than he probably should have. Lady Isla was already a surprise to him. From her beauty to her humour to the way she seemed to respect the life that she had, he was relieved to see that they were actually compatible in many ways.

  He looked around the room for a moment and saw Andrew speaking with another lovely young woman. It was clear that the two were engaged in quite a nice conversation and he could hardly believe their luck in that they had both managed to enjoy themselves that evening.

  They had both ended up speaking with young women who had kept their interest.

  “I must say, I did not expect to have such a lovely conversation upon arriving. I am rather enjoying getting to know you,” Peter said.

  Lady Isla looked away, bashfully. Her heavy eyes cast down for just a moment before looking back up at him.

  “Thank you, My Lord. You are most kind,” she said.

  “It is only a shame that this i
s not a ball. I would have loved to offer you a dance,” he said.

  “That would have been wonderful. I do love to dance,” she said.

  “And I have no doubt that you are rather accomplished and graceful,” he said, knowing what sort of lessons young women were made to have.

  But, instead of confirming this, Lady Isla only laughed.

  “Oh, I wish that I could say that you are right, but I fear that I am not at all an accomplished dancer. I have not the rhythm for it. I enjoy it a great deal, but I am not skilled,” she confessed.

  “Well, that hardly matters. I’m certain that you are so skilled in other areas that it more than makes up for the matter,” Peter said. “And, in truth, I am rather stiff when I dance. I am adequate, but not graceful.”

  Being so tall and broad, Peter did not have the ease of movement that Andrew had. Andrew was also quite tall, but he was so much leaner that his body seemed to sway easily with the movements of the dance.

  But this had never bothered Peter. He did his best and that was all that mattered. Moreover, it was somewhat of a relief that Lady Isla was not going to prove him a klutz. If she was also not a spectacular dancer, he had nothing to fear.

  “In that case, I believe we would be ideal partners. There are far too many men and women out there who dance for the sake of image, who show off their gracefulness as they glide across the room. But two people who dance purely for the joy of it? That is something of its own,” she said.

  “My goodness. I confess upon finding that you have wit in equal measure to match your beauty and humour; I find myself nearly out of my depth!” Peter said. “Aside from dancing, is there any other area that is left unaccomplished?”

  She laughed in response to his teasing and Peter was overwhelmed by her. Lady Isla was far from a disappointment.

  “I believe there are plenty of aspects where I leave much to be desired. Nevertheless, I enjoy my life and I trust that others must be bold enough to enjoy their own, despite failures such as these,” she said.

  “Well, that is inspiring. Thank you for being such a bright spark in this evening. I honestly didn’t expect it,” Peter said.

  “Nor did I…” she said, giving that shy glance once more.

  “Well, if we are not to dance, what would you say to a game of cards?” Peter asked, looking at one of the many card tables. There were only a few which remained empty. He figured he could always invite Andrew—and the young woman that he was speaking to—to join them if Lady Isla was uncomfortable with it being just the two of them.

  “I fear that I do not know how to play. Would you teach me?” she asked.

  “I would be delighted,” Peter said.

  It was a surprise that she didn’t know how to play, but it meant that it was better for the two of them to sit alone, without others. He would be able to continue getting to know her as they played.

  It was the loveliest evening Peter thought he had ever enjoyed in society.

  And he was thrilled that this was the woman he would get to marry.

  Chapter 3

  “Now, obviously, the Kings, Queens, and Jacks are going to be of a higher value than the number cards. But what you really want is the Ace,” the man explained.

  Beatrice was completely overwhelmed.

  How was it that she had ended up speaking with such a lovely man? Of course, he was a nobleman. There was nothing about him that would allow them to ever be anything more than friendly card players.

  But even with the knowledge of that firmly planted in her mind, Beatrice was overwhelmed by the excitement of the evening.

  She had never thought that she would come to this party and actually enjoy conversation with a handsome, masculine, courtly fellow. And yet, here she was, doing just that. He was teaching her how to play cards and they were laughing and sharing stories of their youths.

  And it was clear that he had no assumption that she was of a lower station. It was a relief in many ways, but it was also somewhat disappointing.

  Would he still be so kind to her if he knew that she was a lowly governess? Would he indulge her like this if he knew that she was only part of the staff of the estate?

  It seemed like he saw more in her than that. Then again, much could change in an instant if he knew the truth about her birth.

  “I do have a question for you, My Lord,” Beatrice said, interrupting some of his instructions.

  “Oh? Please, do ask,” he said.

  “You are teaching me all the rules, correct?” she asked.

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  “But I am to play against you in a moment,” Beatrice said.

  “Well, that was the idea,” he replied.

  “So how am I to know whether you are telling me the correct way to play or if you are simply going to ensure that I lose?” she asked, laughing.

  The nobleman laughed as well, throwing his head back and then coming back to face her.

  “I fear that I was not clever enough to think of doing that. It isn’t a bad idea though. I do love to win and it wouldn’t take much more than a little bit of lying here and there,” he said.

  “Well, I am not fond of liars, so I do prefer that you tell me the truth. I only wondered,” she said.

  “I promise you that I have taught you only the true rules of the game thus far,” he said.

  “In that case, teach on,” Beatrice said, enjoying the fact that she was not the one doing the teaching for once.

  “With your permission, I shall show you some of the tricks to avoid,” the man said.

  Beatrice nodded and he continued. Soon enough, they were playing through their first game and Beatrice drew an Ace.

  “Oh!” she yelped, excitedly.

  “You aren’t supposed to make it so obvious when you get a good card,” he teased.

  “Maybe I am lying,” she said, quickly. “Maybe I have a two and I only want you to think that I have a good card.”

  The man shook his head.

  “I have only just met you and I can already see that you are too honest to play games like these,” he said.

  Beatrice blushed. She appreciated that he saw her that way. Then again, she had not been overly forthcoming about her status in the home. He had not asked, but nor had she offered.

  It was such a shame that she could not end up with a man like this. Was it possible that there were noblemen who were this kind? She had always believed they were arrogant and rude because of their wealth. It was a silly assumption, she now realised. But that had always been her thought.

  “What is it?” he asked, apparently noticing that she had been staring at him.

  “Sorry, I was simply trying to discern whether or not there was a lie upon your face. You seem to know so well whether I am being honest about my cards; I was attempting to find the hints in your own face,” Beatrice said.

  “Oh, you shall never figure it out. I am not a perfect player but I am decent enough, particularly when playing against someone so innocent,” he said.

  She tried to hide the fact that she was blushing again.