He then spoke to her with a calm, yet deeply intense voice, “I’m Lord Alexander Westbrook, you must be new to this excitable establishment. How do you like working for Ms. Janice?”
Marcella’s face turned a deep beet red. Had this man just asked her if she enjoyed working for Ms. Janice? She got up off the floor with Lord Westbrook’s assistance, but she felt very embarrassed by this whole ordeal.
She tried to pull her hand away from him grasp once she stood up straight because her pride had been bothered, but for some odd reason he held onto her left hand as if his own life depended on her touch.
Marcella was about to speak to Lord Westbrook when Ms. Janice came rushing towards them both with a humiliated look on her very expressive face.
“Lady Marcella, my apologies. I’m usually not so higgledy-piggledy. You shouldn’t have to pick up after me like this. Here, let me take those away from you.”
Marcella handed the fabrics over to Ms. Janice willingly, and with much relief. The seamstress then put the fabrics under her arms and looked up at Lord Westbrook.
“I’ve put the rent in that purple pouch on the counter over there my lord.” She stated.
The studio door opened again and a few more clients walked in, causing the little bell atop the door to rattle a festive jingle.
Ms. Janice looked to Lord Westbrook and Lady Marcella as she said, “Give me just a moment to meet with my new clients and then I shall return. I apologize for the wait my lady.”
Ms. Janice curtsied to them both and then quickly rushed away to attend business.
Marcella looked down at her dress and tsked at the state of it. She began to right her skirts, but felt as if she was being observed.
She then looked up, and saw that Lord Westbrook was looking right into her eyes.
He had wounded her pride slightly. So, Marcella answered the lord standing before her with as much dignity as she could possibly muster up within her whole body.
“Working in an excitable establishment such as this one would be very intriguing Lord Westbrook, especially with Ms. Janice as a boss. However I, Lady Marcella Stansfield of Hertfordshire, in fact do not work here. I’m purchasing gowns made by your loyal tenant here, as this is my first season in London.”
Lord Westbrook noticed that Lady Marcella had a whimsical voice. Even though she had spoken to him with such a rapid intensity. A woman had never spoken to him like that before, and he liked that.
He liked that a lot.
“Welcome to London, Lady Marcella. I can’t recall the Stansfield’s having a house in town. Are you staying with relations?”
Marcella was surprised by Lord Westbrook’s forwardness, but in all honesty she really liked it. She was thoroughly impressed, not just with his rakish looks but also by his voice. It was this deep, and sultry timbre that did things to her.
Every word spoken was like a trail of hot caramel icing being dripped over a hot cross bun straight out of the oven. It was that very fantasy that took Marcella’s thoughts from an innocent girl’s frame of mind to a naughty woman’s satisfying mentality.
She lustrously grinned at him, “How bright you are Lord Westbrook. I’m staying with the Pinkerton’s in Kensington. They’re good family friends. Now, if you don’t mind me changing the subject I would like to revert back to Lady Dover’s question. Will you be attending the Stanton’s Ball?”
Lord Westbrook was stunned by the lady’s mouth, and then he realized that he had been very rude by not answering Lady Dover’s previous question. He had become so distracted by the tall redheaded woman in the corner that he had forgotten his manners.
Lord Westbrook turned back to Lady Dover immediately, “Lady Dover, I offer you my humblest apologies for my rudeness. You know me well enough to know that was not my intention whatsoever.”
Lady Dover elegantly shrugged, “No worries my boy. Just answer the question so that Charlotte and I can leave before the next rainfall comes down upon us.”
Marcella turned to Charlotte and lowly whispered to her petite friend, “I like her.”
Charlotte replied back with a smile, “If you had my brothers as sons you’d be just as brazen.”
Marcella replied with a cheeky grin.
Lord Westbrook admired Marcella’s cheery disposition, and it was at that moment that he knew what his answer was to Lady Dover’s question.
Answering her with a direct frankness, Lord Westbrook announced, “Yes, I’ll be in attendance at the Stanton’s Ball. I wouldn’t miss this one for the world.”
Lady Dover smiled at him coyly, “Good answer Alexander. We shall all see you then, you as well Lady Marcella. Lady Pinkerton and Lady Rachel have spoken very highly of you, and I cannot wait to witness your debut. Come along Charlotte.”
Marcella was shocked by Lady Dover’s kindness towards her, yet she managed to perform a perfect curtsy as Lady Dover passed by her with a mischievous smile pointed in Marcella’s direction.
Charlotte waved goodbye with her tiny free hand, the other hand was holding onto a garment bag. Marcella waved back as the dear girl scuffled to get the garment bag out of the studio door in one go. Charlotte was such a pure soul, and Marcella felt that she had made another lifelong friend today.
Barely two days in London, and Marcella had already made three friends who all seemed like incredible individuals. This was one of the best days of her life, and it was only getting better by the minute.
The studio went silent as Ms. Janice walked up the staircase of her shop, the previous clients who had just come in had also left quickly with big smiles on their faces, and large boxes tucked away in their maids arms.
Now only Alexander and Marcella were alone in the main foyer of the dress studio.
Marcella was both nervous and excited to be left alone with a man, and such a devilishly handsome man too. With a bit of confidence, she turned back to look at him.
He walked closer to her and then spoke directly to her in a way that made her giddy.
“I don’t mean to be so forthright with you Lady Marcella, but I’ve never met a woman who is almost as tall as me. I’m truly enjoying looking straight into your gorgeous green eyes rather than having to look down upon you. This is very good for my neck, very good indeed.”
Marcella was taken aback by his humor and laughed loudly. Just as she would at home when Lydia would tell bawdy jokes at the dinner table.
She replied with quick haste, “I hope that was a compliment Lord Westbrook. I’ve always been teased about my height.”
Lord Westbrook came even closer then and spoke directly to Marcella, “You are beautifully tall my lady. If I were you, I would use it to my advantage. For example, if a man comes to dance with you at the Stanton’s Ball, and you don’t fancy him, you’ll see him coming from a mile away and you can simply walk in the other direction.”
Marcella giggled, and she never ever giggled so easily. Especially not with men.
Lord Westbrook tilted his head to the side as he observed Marcella, “You’re a very unique woman Lady Marcella. I truly hope you know that. Not only are you elegantly tall, but you also have this bright red hair of yours that is certainly going to attract much attention towards you.”
Marcella held her breath as Lord Westbrook’s fingers twirled a lock of her long hair playfully.
“I’ve been raised around redheaded people all of my life, Lord Westbrook. I don’t see myself as unique in any way. You on the other hand, are the most unique looking man that I’ve ever set my eyes upon.” She said with a load of gumption.
Had she just said that aloud though?
What was she thinking? Everything she thought that she knew about conversing with people went right out the window and unto the cobbled streets outside the studio door.
He didn’t seem offended by her forthrightness at all as he just chuckled to her reply. That airy chuckle brought all of Marcella’s initial thoughts to a sharp halt.
He took a slight step back from her as he looked back in
to Marcella’s eyes, “I’ve never seen such green eyes like these before, are they common in your family?”
Marcella smiled at his ordinary, yet personal, question. He had once again kindly complimented her, and instead of discomfort she felt safe and sound. Marcella felt much comfort around this Lord Westbrook fellow, and that’s why she answered him honestly.
“Out of all of my sisters, the youngest and I both happen to have green eyes. My parents have blue eyes, however both of my Grandfathers had green. That’s where I assume Flora and I inherited them from.”
Marcella looked into his eyes and saw the overlapping shades of light blue that circulated around his dilated pupils. They almost looked like the ripples of water that occurred when a stone was tossed into the water.
Lord Westbrook was completely stunned by Lady Marcella. No woman had ever been this forward with him before, she wasn’t even afraid to talk to him about her life. The ladies of the ton always seemed to shy away from him. They deemed him too dangerous.
Just last week he’d been invited to a formal dinner party where he had clearly overheard a large group of debutantes refer to him as a dark rakish lord who never dared to crack a smile on his face because if he did it would break into pieces of porcelain.
They were prudish young women who didn’t know better, but this woman standing right before him wasn’t one of those women.
She was a true lady, a lady who could truly handle him. The more time they spent in each other’s company made conversing easier with one another far more easier.
For the first time in many years, Lord Alexander Maximus Westbrook actually didn’t mind talking to someone. He was thoroughly enjoying it, and it was all because of Lady Marcella Stansfield.
He knew that he couldn’t stare at her for forever, so he asked her, “You have more than one sister?”
She simply nodded, “Yes, I’m the eldest of five sisters.”
“I wonder what that must’ve been like growing up.” He asked dreamily.
“Absolutely chaotic, as one would assume. Do you have any siblings, Lord Westbrook?” Marcella asked with sincerity.
A bit of sorrow crept into his eyes as he replied, “None that are living, I’m an only child. My mother’s pregnancies after me never came to fruition. My father grew depressed over time as he watched and endured my mother’s pain and loss with each miscarried child. They dreamt of having a large family, my parents that is. They never had that chance as my father passed away from an illness when I was a young boy, and my mother since then has never been the same.”
Marcella’s eyes began to water at Lord Westbrook’s very personal admissions about his family. What she was about to do was not proper, but this man had just opened up to her in a way that called for closeness of some kind. So, she reached out hesitantly and took both of his hands in hers.
Marcella then looked deep into his eyes and spoke from her heart, “I’m sure that you were, and are, the perfect son. I hope that one day your mother will witness you with that large family that she and your father always dreamed of. I truly believe that she’ll be happy again one day soon. It’s important to stay hopeful, especially for what the future may bring.”
Alexander looked at her in complete awe, he then looked down at their hands, and was amazed to see that she was holding his hands so tightly. This was a first for him.
He was very emotional with everything that she’d said to him. This never happened to him for he was never caught off guard by his emotions, and yet somehow this woman had just dismantled him with her words.
He cleared his gravely throat, “I know that we’ve just met Lady Marcella, but there’s just something so familiar about you. I feel…as if we’ve met before. I faithfully believe that my mother would adore every single word of what you just said to me. I genuinely hope that you get the chance to meet her this season. She only goes to tea parties and intimate gatherings these days.”
“I’d love to meet her Lord Westbrook, I’m sure she’s an amiable woman.”
He smiled at her with ease, “That she is.”
Out the corner of their eyes they both saw Ms. Janice walking down the staircase of the shop. Marcella let Lord Westbrook’s hands go expeditiously. He sighed at the loss of her touch, but he understood why she’d don’t it. It wasn’t proper for a young woman to be left alone with a man. They had also been holding hands in public as well, which was an even bigger societal faux pas. Any proper member of the London ton would have been drastically outraged by their informality.
Lord Westbrook looked at the clock placed on the back wall and shook his head. He’d become so enamored and distracted by this wonderful woman standing before him that he’d nearly forgotten that he had very important business to attend to.
He voiced his thoughts outwardly, “I have business to attend to with my solicitor, but I hope to see you at the Stanton’s Ball my lady.”
He bowed to her with grace, and then Marcella replied, “I hope to see you at the Stanton’s Ball too, Lord Westbrook.”
“Please, call me Alexander. As much as I like to be called Lord Westbrook, I prefer Alexander for more intimate affairs.”
Marcella blushed deeply, “Alright Alexander, if that is the case then you may call me Marcella.”
She smiled brightly as he tried out her sole name, “Have a lovely evening Marcella. I cannot wait to see what Ms. Janice has prepared for you. Whatever she chooses, I know you’ll be the most striking woman in the entire room.”
He bowed to her once more, collected the money pouch from the counter, and then went on his way through the studio’s front door. Marcella watched Alexander as he walked onto the sidewalk and then crossed the street, where he then disappeared from full view.
Marcella felt her heart beating so fast that she had to put both of her hands on her chest to try and calm it down somehow. She smiled widely at the thought of Lord Westbrook, or simply Alexander. Yet, there was nothing simple about this man.
He was in fact her version of the perfect man in her mind. Alexander was absolutely charming, and their conversation had flowed like a perfect spring river in March.
Marcella was completely smitten, and she knew that there was no going back now. Her whole body had decided that he was the one. Her heart knew it first, and it was at that moment that she knew that she’d have to go after him.
Ms. Janice walked right up to Marcella, startling her a bit, “I know that this is none of my concern but I think the lad fancies you my lady, and that’s very rare for Lord Alexander Westbrook. He rarely shares any emotions to anyone, let alone a woman that he’s just met for the very first time.”
Marcella looked down at the small raven-haired woman before her and spoke freely, “I fancy him as well Ms. Janice. Whichever dress you chose for my debut at the Stanton’s Ball, just make sure that it’s worthy of him and his undivided attention.”
“Dearie, trust me when I tell you this. I’ll take good care of you. The Westbrook’s have invested in my trade, and I owe them for everything that they’ve done for me. Come along now my lady, I think that the Pinkerton’s have waited long enough.”
Marcella followed Ms. Janice into the dressing room. She had to be properly fitted for her gowns, and she also needed to approve of a few other dresses as well.
Suffice to say, the rest of Marcella’s day was going to be a very long one. At least she had something, or more specifically a blue-eyed someone, to think about while she was being stuck with thousands of pins.
Once inside the fitting room Marcella smiled into the long mirror and whispered to it, “This has been the best day ever.”
Chapter 8
The next few days after Ms. Janice’s studio were full of complete pandemonium. The ladies of Pinkerton house must have visited over a dozen shops, and Marcella was mind-numbingly exhausted. She never thought that shopping would be this tiring. That was one aspect of life in London that Marcella was most definitely not suited for.
When the day of the Sta
nton’s Ball finally arrived Marcella was filled with excitement, but absolutely riddled with nervousness.
Would Alexander be there, just as he said he would be? Could he be trusted?
Just the thought of him made her heart swell up enormously with pure bliss.
If, and when, the chance presented itself, would he ask her to dance with him at the ball tonight?
Oh the agony! The shear thought of that even occurring tonight made her a nervous wreck, and that never happened to Marcella.
With all of her emotions up in the air, and awaiting a letter from her family any day now, Marcella felt as if she was lingering in some sort of purgatory land that she couldn’t get out of. Perhaps that’s why she couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking about her family, but most especially her father.
His disastrous gambling in particular was at the front of her mind. Gambling was just as bad as alcohol in Marcella’s mind. She knew that her father enjoyed to drink alcohol on special occasions, but he’d never been known as an alcoholic. One vice was bad enough, but two or more combined together turned even the nicest of men into the most horrid and gruesome monsters.
There was something suspicious going on with her family, and only one name kept resurfacing in Marcella’s head over and over again.
Mr. Benedict Coll.
Mr. Coll had just so happened to be at the same gambling hell, and at the same table that her father frequented in London? Now that wasn’t a pure coincidence at all.
She had never met this Mr. Coll fellow before, but the man brought nothing but negativity into her life, as well as her family’s lives.
Anyone who provoked her father’s bad habits was an enemy to behold in Marcella’s eyes. If Mr. Coll was in fact the one behind her father’s drastic gamble then he too was an utter fool who deserved what was coming to him.
One day, the Stansfield fortune would be Mr. Coll’s. All of that money that her father had gambled away in various gambling hells throughout London would’ve been Mr. Coll’s.
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