Regency Engagements Box Set

by Charlotte Fitzwilliam

  He ignored the quickening of his heart, however, telling himself that the sight of her beauty, her bright eyes and warm smile, did not affect him in the least. Memories of how he had found himself in her company last Season, how he had looked forward to conversing with her and dancing with her returned to him with force, but he pushed them aside with an effort. He had to think of Lady Cecily, had to recall her face and the love he had felt for her. Only then could he keep his determinations strong.

  “Ah, Miss Truwin!”

  Bowing deeply, he looked up to see Miss Truwin standing stock still, her eyes a little wide. Beside her, a lady with piercing eyes and a slightly wary look on her face, regarded him closely.

  “I must apologize for greeting you in such a fashion when I cannot be sure that you will recall me,” he continued, ignoring the second lady and bowing again to Miss Truwin. “Lord Bastien, Miss Truwin.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Miss Truwin replied, her voice a little breathless. “I was just – I mean, yes, I do recall you, of course. We conversed and danced a good deal last Season, and I should not forget such a thing as that.” Her face reddened as she gestured to the lady. “This is Lady Landerbelt. Lady Landerbelt, this is the Earl of Bastien.”

  Lady Landerbelt curtsied beautifully, although her eyes were filled with something that Jasper could not quite make out. They lingered on him with a strong intensity that had him forced to catch his breath as he looked away, feeling an uncomfortable awareness rippling down his spine.

  “How very good to meet you, Lord Bastien,” Lady Landerbelt murmured, as Miss Truwin looked away. “And are you only recently returned to town?”

  Jasper was forced to converse about his return to London, the weather, and the upcoming social occasions that he pretended he was very much looking forward to, whilst Miss Truwin, he noticed, remained fairly silent. This did not please him very much, for he would not be able to use Miss Truwin in the way he wished if she did not wish to converse with him! That was the only reason he wished her to speak, he told himself, smiling politely at Lady Landerbelt.

  “And you are acquainted with Miss Truwin already, I understand,” Lady Landerbelt said, gesturing towards her young friend. “From last Season?”

  “Indeed,” Jasper agreed, seeing a way to draw Miss Truwin back into the conversation. “It is as she said, for we danced and conversed very often last Season, which is something that I should very much like to repeat, Miss Truwin.”

  Her eyes slowly turned back to his, and he found himself smiling with the gentle expression of pleasure that etched itself onto her face. Goodness, she was quite beautiful, was she not? Her eyes were fixed upon his now, alight with apparent happiness that he had spoken so kindly to her. Why did his own heart seem to soften at the sight of her?

  Think of Lady Cecil.

  Clearing his throat, he inclined his head again. “If I might have your dance card, Miss Truwin?”

  For a moment, Miss Truwin blinked in apparent confusion, as though she had not expected him to ask for such a thing. Then, with apparent haste, she tugged the dance card from her hand and gave it to him. He accepted it with a warm smile that immediately began to fade as his eyes searched for the name of Lord Islington on the card. The card itself was filled with names, leaving only three spaces remaining for him to choose from. His eyes drifted down the card, searching for the initials or the name “Islington.”

  It was there.

  She had already had one dance with him, but there was to be another soon after. His jaw worked for a moment, seeing how he had taken the supper dance. Perhaps Lord Islington was truly interested in Miss Truwin after all.

  “The waltz, I think,” he said grandly, looking up at her before writing his name down. “And then the country dance or the scots reel? Those are the only two left, I confess! What would be your preference, Miss Truwin?”

  She blinked, her face still a rosy pink. “I have no preference, Lord Bastien,” she replied, clearly trying to smile. “I would be glad to stand up for either of those dances with you.”

  She is certainly just as lovely as I remember her, he thought, smiling back at her and then writing his name down for the country dance. I must wonder if her dowry is as impressive as Cecily’s was. If it is considerate, then I shall understand the reason for Islington’s interest in her.

  “The country dance then,” he replied, wishing he had managed to make it to Miss Truwin’s side before Lord Islington had written his name down. “I look forward to it, Miss Truwin.”

  “I thank you, Lord Bastien,” she replied, taking back her card and touching his fingers with her own as she did so. “You are most kind.”

  A small tremor ran through Jasper as he gave Miss Truwin the card, surprising him by both the suddenness and the strength of it. Looking back at her, he held her gaze for some moment, not quite certain what such a thing meant and wondering if she too had felt it. Miss Truwin’s blush deepened, and she dropped her gaze, making a meal out of tying her dance card to her wrist again. Clearing his throat and shoving such strange feelings aside, Jasper bowed again, first to Lady Landerbelt and then to Miss Truwin, before excusing himself and taking his leave.

  As he walked away, a sense of determination filled him all over again. He had succeeded thus far, and for that, he was grateful. It seemed that Miss Truwin was not entirely disaffected by him, which boded well for him. Shoving aside the sense of guilt that clung to his heart, Jasper lifted his chin and recalled what Lord Islington had done to him, feeling the anger beginning to grow in his heart once more. It covered all other emotions, pushing them aside as his jaw worked furiously. His heart had been quite broken, and soon, he would have his revenge. Soon, he would see Lord Islington suffer in the same way as he had done, for Jasper was quite determined that, no matter what else occurred, Lord Islington would pay for his sins one way or the other.

  3

  “I hear you did very well last evening, Andrea!”

  Andrea winced inwardly as her mother spoke loudly as they walked into Lord and Lady Worthington’s drawing room.

  “Please, Mama,” she said softly, not lifting her head nor answering her mother’s questions. “There is no need to speak so loudly, especially when I know that you are aware that I had a most enjoyable evening last night. We have already spoken of it.”

  Lady Hawthorn laughed and patted Andrea’s arm as though she had said something truly hilarious.

  “You must not be so,” Lady Hawthorn trilled, making Andera turn her head away in embarrassment. “It is good for everyone to know just how much of a success you are.”

  “I profoundly disagree,” Andrea replied, finding her courage mounting as she turned to see her mother frowning. “Mama, I shall not be successful in finding a husband if you continue to parade me and my supposed success all through London.” Seeing her mother frown and knowing full well that Lady Hawthorn was not at all used to Andrea speaking her mind, she tried to explain herself as best she could. “It comes across as a little brash, Mama.”

  “Nonsense!” Lady Hawthorn declared, waving her hand as though Andrea did not know what she was speaking of. “You are doing very well, my dear, and the only way gentlemen are going to seek you out is if they know just how much other gentlemen wish to court you.”

  Andrea wanted to scream but quashed such a feeling at once, as she had done so many times previously. “Mama, I already have enough interest from various suitors to be quite contented,” she told her mother, as gently as she could. “Lord Islington is to be here this evening, and you know that Lady Landerbelt considers him to be–”

  “I do not care what Lady Landerbelt thinks!” Lady Hawthorn exclaimed, rounding on Andrea, her eyes flashing. “I am your mother and, as such, I believe I know what is best for my daughter! It is my responsibility to show you off to society, and I am doing it in the best way possible.” She tossed her head, her chin lifting and her gaze becoming tinged with anger. “Lady Landerbelt is not wiser than I, Andrea. She does not know
you as well as I do. Therefore, I would be grateful if you would set Lady Landerbelt’s advice aside as I have done. Lady Landerbelt is not interested in you, Andrea. She was kind, yes, but that is all. Lady Landerbelt has a good deal of young ladies eager to seek her acquaintance, I am quite certain of it, and there will be many who will require her attentions more than you. You have your mother present and ready to aid you, whilst there are some young ladies who do not. Besides which,” she continued, as Andrea’s eyes flickered to an approaching guest, her eyes widening in sudden horror. “Lady Landerbelt is not as gracious as I had thought her to be. She does not display the poise and elegance that a widow such as herself ought to do. She is much too interested in the attentions of the gentlemen that seek to surround her, accepting a compliment here only to throw it away again.” Again, Lady Hawthorn tossed her head, her expression tightening into one of disdain. “I should think it best if you remained far away from Lady Landerbelt, Andrea. I do not think her company is–”

  “Good evening, Miss Truwin, Lady Hawthorn.”

  Andrea, who had gone quite pale and now felt terribly clammy, looked in horror into Lady Landerbelt’s eyes, wondering just how much the lady had overheard. She could not speak, could not move, and certainly could not find a way to apologize for what her mother had said, for some of the remarks had been truly insulting.

  “Oh, good evening, Lady Landerbelt,” Lady Hawthorn spluttered, her cheeks firing red as she turned to greet the lady. “I was just speaking to Andrea about her evening with you and stating that I thought it sounded as though it went very well indeed.”

  Lady Landerbelt smiled coolly at Lady Hawthorn, her expression masked but yet hinting at disappointment and a little disdain. Andrea closed her eyes tightly, half wishing that the ground beneath her would swallow her up so that she would not have to endure such embarrassment.

  “I was very grateful for your attentions to my daughter,” Lady Hawthorn continued hastily, clearly now trying to cover up what she had previously said. “My dear Lady Landerbelt, you have been so very kind to consider Andrea.”

  “And I should like to invite Miss Truwin to a small gathering I am to have in a two days’ time,” Lady Landerbelt said quietly, her eyes drifting towards Andrea, who could not quite bring her gaze up towards the lady’s. “I would be very glad to have you join me there, Miss Truwin.”

  There was a breath or two of silence as Lady Hawthorn looked from her daughter to Lady Landerbelt and back again, perhaps expecting the lady to invite her also, only to realize that such a thing was not about to occur. Whether or not Lady Landerbelt had intended to invite Lady Hawthorn, only to hear what the lady had said, Andrea could not say. Closing her eyes tightly for a moment so as to regain some semblance of composure, she let out her breath slowly and quietly, hearing her mother enthusiastically agree at once.

  “I thank you,” Lady Landerbelt said, inclining her head towards Andrea and then to Lady Hawthorn. “You will have the invitation tomorrow, Miss Truwin.”

  Andrea moved forward quickly, not wanting Lady Landerbelt to leave her standing with her mother and also desperate to apologize on her mother’s behalf. “Thank you, Lady Landerbelt,” she said quickly, seeing her mother’s upset expression. “That is most generous of you.”

  A small, bright smile flickered across Lady Landerbelt’s face as she glanced back at Andrea, perhaps aware of what she was feeling. “You are very welcome, Miss Truwin,” she replied calmly. “If you will excuse me.”

  Andrea closed her eyes again, feeling her mother’s fingers bite into her arm as Lady Landerbelt moved away. Her shame roared into being, a hungry lion threatening to consume her entirely.

  “That was rather unfortunate,” Lady Hawthorn said breathlessly. “Although I cannot think that she overheard a good deal, for I managed to successfully ensure that she was thanked in a most gracious manner.”

  Andrea, sickened by her mother’s seeming delight at how she had managed to protect herself whilst attempting to sully Lady Landerbelt in Andrea’s mind, turned away from Lady Hawthorn and moved aimlessly through the crowd of guests. This was a soiree, an evening of conversation, of laughter and of entertainment, but all she could feel was embarrassment. Her mother had always had a way of making even the loveliest of occasions unbearable, for she was always brash and outspoken, crowing over Andrea’s evident achievements without any consideration as to what that might do to Andrea herself.

  And yet again, she heard Lady Hawthorn’s voice ring out across the room, having taken not even a few minutes to regain her composure or to consider what had just occurred and the foolishness of her actions. Again, Andrea’s face burned and, without thinking, she stepped out of the drawing room and into the hallway, moving aimlessly and yet with quick steps as she hurried away from her mother.

  Pushing open a door that was a little ajar, Andrea stepped into the library, seeing the candles set here and there and the large windows that let in the last of the summer evening’s light. Closing the door again, she walked towards one of the windows, seeing the window seat and wondering if she could hide herself away in it.

  Her hands pressed down on the window seat as she lowered her head, letting out a deep, pained sigh and feeling the same mortification tear at her soul. If only her mother was not so outspoken and not so unwilling to consider her own behavior! And if only she were bold enough to tell her mother that she did not appreciate such behavior and that she did, in fact, want her mother to cease altogether. Lady Landerbelt had been vastly different to Lady Hawthorn, for she was amiable, genteel, and entirely proper. She had encouraged Andrea without pushing her to the fore, had ensured that gentlemen spoke to her without interrupting, and had made quite certain that Andrea was able to converse, dance with, and even walk with such gentlemen without ensuring that she was present also. It had been a very different experience but one that Andrea appreciated a good deal.

  Little wonder that her mother had found Lady Landerbelt so difficult, given that she acted in a vastly different way to Lady Hawthorn.

  “And then there is Lord Islington,” she said aloud, her voice echoing off the glass as she thought of that particular gentleman and his attentions towards her. “He is most attentive although certainly can be rather forward.” She frowned, stood up, and ran one hand over her forehead. “He is handsome, however,” she murmured, aware that she was a little attracted towards the gentleman. What would her parents think of him? Her expression twisted. No doubt it would be as Lady Landerbelt said. Lady Hawthorn would have no objections to the like of Lord Islington!

  “Excuse me.”

  Andrea shrieked aloud, spinning around from where she stood and staggering back, hitting hard against the window seat.

  “I am sorry.” A gentleman’s voice reached her as a silhouetted figure rose from a chair in the opposite corner, coming a little closer to her. “I did not mean to interrupt your considerations, my lady.”

  She gasped for breath, staring hard into the darkness.

  “I just did not want you to consider yourself entirely alone and say something aloud that you might regret,” the gentleman continued, moving towards the door. “Particularly if you are speaking of matters of the heart.”

  Heat rushed into her face, her heart beating so furiously that she struggled to remain standing, wondering just who this gentleman might be and fearing that he might then take what she had said and spread it about society as rumor. “Please,” she rasped, her voice hoarse and tremulous. “Please, you will say nothing about what you have overheard.”

  The gentleman hesitated, turning towards her and his face catching the dull light that streaked from the windows.

  “Miss Truwin, is it not?” he said softly, astonishing her all the more by his awareness of who she was. “You speak of Lord Islington, who has been paying you some attentions of late?”

  Her heart still clamoring with fear, Andrea tried to speak clearly. “Lord Islington and I were only introduced last evening,” she told the gentleman,
who took a few more steps towards her.

  “But he had the supper dance, did he not?” the man replied, his voice dropping low. “And he accompanied you about the floor for a turn or two. Little wonder that you are now considering him.”

  “I cannot be certain what such things matter to you,” Andrea replied, as firmly as she could despite her trembling. “It was a private thought spoken aloud, and you have no right to overhear it.” That was a foolish statement, she knew, but there was a growing desperation in her that she find a way to ensure nothing was said. “I am merely asking you to remain silent about what you heard, sir.”

  The man said nothing for a few moments, then took a few steps closer to her. As his face was illuminated by the dim light, Andrea felt her heart drop to the floor, only to thunder back into her chest, making her a little nauseous as it did so.

  “Lord Bastien,” she whispered, growing weak at the look in his eyes. “What are you…?” She shook her head, aware of just how she felt about the gentleman before her and growing all the more embarrassed. “I did not know you were attending this evening.”

  Lord Bastien said nothing, moving a little closer only to stop a fair distance away. She held his gaze, seeing how his expression tightened, how his eyes narrowed just a fraction as he looked back at her.

  “I was thinking aloud, that is all,” she said desperately, knowing that out of everyone, Lord Bastien was the last gentleman she wanted to have overheard her private thoughts. “I would not have you–”

  “You are considering Lord Islington,” he said slowly. “I well understand that, Miss Truwin. He is an excellent gentleman.” His eyes flashed, his brows lowering as he spoke this, as though it took him a good deal of effort to admit it. “But I must hope, Miss Truwin, that you will not solely consider him.”