by Joyce Alec
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 ashamed 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.”
His heart ached for her. He did not know what her mother had asked her to do, but it was clear that Lady Templeton cared nothing for the fact that her daughter was to go to walking with a gentleman, else she would have ensured that Miss Whitaker was ready and prepared instead of demanding her time.
“Please,” he said gently, not wanting to embarrass her further. “Please, Miss Whitaker, do not worry about what has occurred. It means nothing to me, truly.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, her throat working furiously as she fought back her tears. Joseph could only look back at her, putting a light smile on his face and praying that she would find some reassurance in that.
“You defended me to my father,” Miss Whitaker whispered, her lips trembling as she spoke. “You did not need to do such a thing.”
“I could not allow him to speak so ill of you, Miss Whitaker,” Joseph replied at once, reaching out on instinct and taking her hand in his. “It was deeply troubling to me to hear him speak so of you and therefore, I could not allow his words to stand without contradiction.”
“But you had no need to do so,” Miss Whitaker said again, her eyes still swimming with tears. “You do not know me particularly well and since this arrangement is to be solely to introduce me to society, you have no need to promise anything more to me.”
Joseph frowned, not understanding what she meant, before realizing that it was to do with his promise to Lord Templeton that he would bring a good deal of happiness to Miss Whitaker, whether Lord Templeton would believe it or not. “I fully intend to do all I can to ensure your future is one filled with joy and contentment, Miss Whitaker,” he said, finding that his heart echoed the very same sentiment. These were not just words he spoke to encourage her, but rather, they were the truth that flowed from his heart and out towards her. “You need not feel any embarrassment over what I have promised to your father or what your father has said to me. I do not pity you, but rather I feel anger over what you have endured for so long. It is not something I can understand, for my own mother and father were very kind to both myself and my younger sister, and I do wish that it was so for you also.”
Miss Whitaker looked away, her head turned so that she might keep her composure. Joseph said nothing, seeing how color began to come back to her cheeks and finding himself eager to give her the most wonderful of afternoons. His eyes drifted to their joined hands, surprised to realize that he was not only still holding her hand in his, but that it felt right that it should be there. A flicker of a frown marred his brow as he allowed the sensation to take a hold
of him, growing slowly aware of just how strongly he felt about Miss Whitaker.
It is merely a desire to bring her happiness in what is a deeply unpleasant situation, he told himself, seeing her turn back to him and putting a broad smile on his face. That is all.
“Shall we go for our walk, Miss Whitaker?” he asked her, setting her hand back by her side and then offering her his arm. “The afternoon is most pleasant and it shall soon be the fashionable hour.”
“And we do not want to be in the park for the fashionable hour, I presume?” she asked, no sarcasm in her voice but rather the expectation that he would not want to be seen walking with her when almost the entirety of London society would be watching. “Of course, we must hurry, then.”
“No, you quite misunderstand me.” Reaching out, Joseph gently caught her arm, bringing her attention back solely onto him. Miss Whitaker’s eyes flared in surprise as she looked back at him, her cheeks now a delicate shade of pink. Joseph smiled at her, thinking to himself that, in her own way, Miss Whitaker did indeed have a beauty all of her own. “I wish us to walk in the park during the fashionable hour,” he told her, seeing the astonishment jump into her eyes. “For how else am I to introduce you to all of society?” He chuckled at the way her mouth fell open for a moment, amused by how she then caught herself and began to stammer an apology. “You need not fear, Miss Whitaker. I shall be your guide through this swirling world of London society and, together, we shall find a way to the other side.”
Miss Whitaker dropped her gaze but a smile tugged at her lips regardless. “I thank you, Lord Ancrum,” she said, sounding a good deal more at ease than she had been before. “Your defense of me to my father and now your desire to walk with me during the fashionable hour has already quite convinced me that you are a gentleman with a kind heart.” She smiled at him, happiness now emanating from her expression. “You say that your past behavior as regards Miss Grey was nothing more than foolishness and that you seek to put it as far behind you as you can.”
“Yes,” he agreed firmly. “That is so.”
Miss Whitaker’s smile softened. “Then I believe that you have done just that, Lord Ancrum,” she told him, bringing a broad smile to his face. “For what it is worth, I believe that you have proven yourself to me already.”
Joseph chuckled, offering her his arm again and glad when she took it without hesitation. “And could, therefore, pretend that my duty towards you is at an end, but I shall not do so, Miss Whitaker.” He laughed as she smiled and shook her head in mock dismay. “We have many delightful events to attend together and I shall continue to attempt to prove myself to you. Now…” He waited until she had pulled on her bonnet and tied the ribbons before she took his arm again, seeing how the butler seemed to reappear within a moment, ready to open the door for them. “Let us go to the park so that I might show you off to all and sundry.” Grinning at her flushed cheeks, he patted her hand as the door was opened for them both. “And I shall ensure that you discover a happiness that you have never before experienced, Miss Whitaker, for it is now my sole aim.”
6
“Good evening, Lord Ancrum.”
Lydia’s smile was immediate upon seeing Lord Ancrum approaching her. They were, it seemed, attending the same ball and she could not help but feel elated upon seeing him again. It had now been three days since they had first taken a walk in Hyde Park together, and since that day, Lydia had found herself quite caught up with Lord Ancrum. It was, of course, simply because he was the one introducing her to society and the only gentleman she had ever known before who seemed to truly have some consideration of her and certainly not for any other reason.
Why could you not consider him?
The thought stole her breath, forcing her to drag in air just as Lord Ancrum bowed in front of her in greeting. Curtsying quickly so as to cover her gasp, Lydia lifted her head and saw that Lord Ancrum was watching her with a broad smile on his face, making his grey eyes appear lighter than she remembered them.
“Your dance card, if I may be so bold as to ask for it?” he said, his eyes twinkling. “What say you to two dances?”
She blushed furiously, hating that his question had evoked such a strong reaction. “I would say, Lord Ancrum, that you are most kind,” she replied, unlooping the dance card from her wrist and then holding it out to him so that he might write his name where he chose. “I am quite certain that by the end of this… matter,” she began, not quite certain how to explain what it was between them, “your reputation shall be pristine and you may look upon society with fresh eyes, considering which of the young ladies present you wish to court.” She tried to laugh but the sound would not come from her lips, as though the very thought of Lord Ancrum courting another young lady was deeply painful, even though it ought not to be anything of the sort.
“Then we shall both have been of aid to each other, shall we not, Miss Whitaker?” he asked, grinning down at her before dropping his gaze to her dance card. Lydia remained entirely silent, wondering which dances he would choose.
“The quadrille first, I think,” Lord Ancrum said, glancing up at her. “And then, mayhap the supper dance?”
A rush of excitement caught at her heart and she nodded eagerly, seeing him grin before he wrote his name down. The supper dance was the last dance of the evening and was an event where a gentleman might, after dancing with her, accompany her to where the refreshments were waiting and sit with her, furthering their acquaintance still more. Of course, most of the ton would watch with careful eyes as to who sat with whom, which meant that everyone would know that Lord Ancrum had chosen to sit with her.
“Good,” he said, and, looking up at her, reached out for her hand. “If I may be so bold, Miss Whitaker.”
She looked back at him, not truly understanding what it was he wanted, only to realize that he sought her hand. Giving it to him at once, Lydia felt her chest constrict as he placed the dance card back over her hand to allow it to dangle from her wrist. Then, he took her hand a little more firmly and bowed over it, his lips brushing the back of her hand.
It was attention indeed and most likely would be noted by all those about her.
“You must be careful, Lord Ancrum, that you do not draw too much attention to yourself,” she told him, trying to keep her voice light despite the furious quickening of her heart. “You know how the gossip mongers like to chew over the smallest titbit they can find.”
Lord Ancrum merely shrugged, letting go of her hand. “If the beau monde believes that I find you quite delightful, then I see no harm in such a rumor, for there is nothing but truth in it.” His eyes flickered with something that she could not quite make out, his expression suddenly serious. “We may have only been acquainted for a short time, but I find that, in furthering our acquaintance, you are already making a marked impression upon me.” His smile was slow but spread across his face, his eyes almost glowing with intensity as he continued to look at her. “And there can be nothing wrong with that impression being given to the ton, for I am certain that you can make the very same impression on as many gentlemen as I can introduce you to.”
Lydia’s smile became fixed, her heartbeat slowing down as she looked into his eyes and saw the foolishness of her own thoughts reflected there. This was why she ought not to allow her heart to consider him. This was why she had to remain entirely unattached to Lord Ancrum. He did not think of her as a potential bride. Rather, he was doing this merely to prove himself to her and to ensure that his reputation amongst society was much improved from last Season. She was doing this in order to give herself the opportunity to meet and hopefully become betrothed to a gentleman who, at the very least, would have a fondness for her. Lord Ancrum was not to be that gentleman. She could not allow her heart to run after him when he clearly did not even consider viewing her in such a way as that.
“I should leave you now,” he said, with a glance over her right shoulder. “It appears another gentleman is come to seek you out, although I do not know his
name.”
Unable to help herself, Lydia threw a glance over her shoulder and, much to her surprise, saw the gentleman who had helped her from the ground the day Lord Ancrum had knocked into her. “Oh,” she replied, seeing Lord Ancrum’s evident interest. “This is the gentleman who came to my aid when I fell to the ground.”
Lord Ancrum’s eyes caught hers at once, a slight shame evidencing itself in his expression. “I see.”
“You do not know him?”
“No,” Lord Ancrum shook his head. “No, I do not. What is his name?”
Lydia hesitated, trying to remember. “Lord Paulson, I believe,” she said slowly, her brow furrowing as she tried to recollect whether this was correct. “Viscount Paulson.” She lifted her eyes to Lord Ancrum, only to see him staring at her, his expression one of utter astonishment. There was no reason for such a thing, not as far as she was aware, and therefore Lydia could not account for his surprise. She could not ask him why he appeared so astonished, for the gentleman in question came about to face her and, with a deep bow, enquired as to how she was.
“Lord Paulson, good evening,” Lydia stammered, aware that Lord Paulson had stood directly in front of Lord Ancrum, who had not yet moved out of the way. “I am much recovered, I thank you.”
Lord Paulson’s eyes glowed with evident satisfaction. “I am glad to hear you have recovered,” he said, sounding most sincere. “I have been concerned for your well-being.” He chuckled and shook his head ruefully. “Of course, you will ask me why I have not come to call upon you nor written to you as to enquire after your health, but, as you may recall, when I left you with Lady Irwin, I quite forgot to ask after your family.”
Understanding crashed over her at once. “My father is Lord Templeton,” she told him, seeing Lord Paulson nod and smile. “Both my mother and father are present this evening. Although you need not be too concerned on my behalf, Lord Paulson. As you can see, I am quite all right.”