The Roses of Feldstone, page 17
Lord Blakeley sobered and gave a pointed look in William’s direction. “That man has a terrible scowl. I wish there were no relations between the two of you.”
“I am quite certain the time spent in each other’s company will soon diminish,” I said, not daring to look at William.
“But he has claimed your next dance?”
“Yes.”
“And he asked you himself? No one constrained him to do so?”
“No, believe it or not, the gentleman asked me of his own free will.”
“Well, if you ask me, I would say that sounds a lot like he is hoping his contact with you will increase.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“That is because you are not seeing the face he is making as I talk to you.” Lord Blakeley reached for his napkin with his right hand and lifted my chin with his left. He took the napkin and gently dabbed the corner of my lips as if I had some remains of soup there. He held the napkin there much longer than was necessary and then turned to look at William once again. My face was still cupped in his hand, and I watched as he gave William a fierce smile that seemed to portray ownership. I didn’t look across the table, but I quickly pulled my face out of his hold.
Lord Blakeley smiled broadly when he looked back at me. He brought his face near my own and whispered. “If looks could kill, this side of the table would have perished from the poisonous glare of your Lord Telford.”
“He is not my Lord Telford,” I said to him. “Please don’t use me in that way ever again. If, as you say, looks could kill, I wonder what my glare could do to you?”
“Excite me, most likely; you are absolutely gorgeous when you are angry.”
I clenched my jaw and turned away from the marquis, focusing instead on my supper. I was determined to ignore him for the rest of the meal. I fluttered my eyelids up only once during the rest of the dinner to look at William. He was deep in conversation and smiling at one of the matrons next to him. Lord Blakeley must have been wrong.
After supper and everyone else’s conversations were finished, Lord Blakeley pulled my chair back for me, and I stood.
“I do love your glare, but I hope you will not remain angry at me for long,” Lord Blakeley said as he took my hand and kissed it.
“I am still quite angry,” I said as I pulled my hand from his grasp, “but I am never angry for very long. It is a curse, I suppose.”
“So, even your curses are lovely.”
I couldn’t help it; I rolled my eyes.
“I have had some correspondence from the country school, and your little project Adam is doing well there.”
“Lord Blakeley! It was you who paid for his schooling?” I said, placing my hand on the back of the chair I had been sitting on for dinner.
“Yes, well, I had thought to keep it a secret, but I was hoping for some praise from you. I am afraid I am feeling unusually underconfident at the moment. It is not a sensation I am used to, and I want to be rid of it as quickly as possible.”
“Well, Lord Blakeley, it seems that you are as kind as you are handsome,” I said with a genuine smile. “How is that for flattery?”
“I think to fully understand your praise, I would need to know how handsome you think I am.”
I scoffed at him, but his logic was sound. “One compliment wasn’t enough?”
“Not from you,” he said, stepping closer to me so we were standing only inches apart. His brown eyes were just as intent as they’d been the first time we met this season, behind the potted tree at the Wilmington’s ball.
“I believe the next dance is mine,” I heard William say from behind me.
“Is that correct?” Lord Blakeley asked me, even though he knew the answer.
“Yes, Lord Telford is quite right. I promised him the next dance.”
“Until next time, then,” he said, kissing my hand a second time, this time lingering quite a bit longer than necessary.
William took my hand as soon as it was released and walked me out of the ornate dining hall and into the ballroom. “Thank you for agreeing to this dance. At the last ball we were at together, I was certain you had no desire to dance with me at all.”
“You know me quite well, William. I didn’t have any desire to dance with you at the last ball.” I had thought he was involved with another woman at the time. I couldn’t help the smile that came to my lips as I remembered how wrong I had been.
“Oh,” was his disheartened reply. I wanted to let him know my reasons, but really, that wouldn’t do any good. William might have had his feelings hurt because I hadn’t wanted to dance with him, but with an engagement between the two of us still an impossibility, I didn’t feel that an explanation was a wise choice.
The dance began, and I tried not to notice the excitement that tingled at every one of his touches. We held hands for a moment and then let go. His hand was at my waist, and then it was gone. The dance was just like our relationship: fleeting excitement when he was near, followed by mourning once he was gone.
“You look beautiful this evening,” William whispered softly to me at an intricate turn.
“Thank you. It is all part of my plot to make everyone love me.”
“Well, it’s working,” he said, and a soft shiver ran up my spine. We parted ways, and I took the time away from him to return my breathing to normal.
“I hope you are not planning on making a dance with me a common occurrence,” I said to him when our hands touched again.
“I rather was hoping to. It is a pleasure to finally dance with you this year after spending two years only watching you dance with other men.”
“All you had to do was ask. I would have happily danced with you, William.”
“But my father . . .”
“Ah, yes. Your father. Are you certain you will be allowed to dance with me even now?”
We separated again, and while I was standing opposite of him, I saw a look of frustration on his face.
“I don’t need his permission to dance with someone,” he said as soon as we were close again.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t forbidden you from having contact with me at all. He hasn’t asked you to be rid of me?”
“Be rid of you . . .” William began, but I was whisked away by the gentleman to my left. It was our turn to march forward. William was left looking even more upset than the last time I’d left him.
The dance was picking up pace as it came to a close. William and I had plenty of chances to touch hands again but not one for private conversation. After the dance ended and we made our final bows to the other couples in our group, William pulled me to the side.
“We both know my father has ordered me to marry someone of high rank, but if I have learned anything from seeing Joseph again, it’s that some things are worth risking everything for. For the right woman, I could defy my father.”
“Oh,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. So he was willing to defy his father, just not for me.
“No, I don’t think you understand—” he started, but Mr. Morris interrupted us.
“I believe I have the honor of the next dance,” Mr. Morris said in his slightly-above-whisper voice.
“Yes, I believe you do,” I answered with a shaky smile, turning away from William. I was happy to not have to school my emotions any longer.
Mr. Morris held out his hand to me, and I took it. He didn’t seem to dare look me in the eye but looked at the top of my hairline. He hadn’t been brave enough to actually ask for this dance. His cousin, the host of the evening, had arranged it for him. I was surprised his cousin didn’t come claim me for the dance as well.
Everything about dancing with Mr. Morris was awkward. He never spoke, and his dancing was well below average. I purposely did not look through the crowd for William while we danced, but afterward, I did, and to no avail. He was gone. He must have left after our conversation.
Chapter 17
After breakfast the next morning, I was not surprised to see Lord Blakeley’s roses arrive with a note to say he would be coming for a morning visit. The maid placed the flowers in the drawing room while I read his note in the foyer. He would be arriving soon. I lifted the gauzy skirts of my morning gown and hurried up the stairs to my mother’s room to let her know of his arrival. She loved visiting with Lord Blakeley.
I knocked once and then opened the door. “Mama, Lord Blakeley will be here any—” I stopped midsentence as I took in my mother’s appearance. She was on her bed, still in her bedclothes. Her cap had been torn from her head. Tears were streaming down her face, and in her hand was a crumpled letter.
“Mama! What has happened?” I asked in complete surprise, looking around the room for any other clues as to what might have happened. I had no memories of my mother being affected like this, even when my sisters had left the home. “Is there a problem? Has something happened to one of my sisters?”
She was so overcome with emotion that she could only wave her hand back and forth and shake her head. She lifted her other hand, the one that contained the letter, and held it out for me. I rushed to the bed and snatched the letter from her hand. I quickly flipped to the last page.
“Mama, this is from Mrs. Jepson. What on earth could she have said that has you so distraught?”
In a strangled voice, she blurted out, “Her daughter is engaged!”
I took a deep breath before answering. “That should be wonderful news. Why are you so upset?”
“Because,” she said with a catch in her voice, “she has found herself a marquis!” Mother picked up her cap from off of the bed and began to tear at it. “A marquis!” she repeated to herself.
My shoulders relaxed as I turned back to the front page of the profuse letter. I knew Miss Jepson. She was quite beautiful, but she wasn’t necessarily known for her intellect. A name in the letter caught my eye.
“Is Miss Jepson perhaps engaged to Lord Humphreys?” I asked.
“Yes, Lord Humphreys! A marquis!”
“We have established that Miss Jepson is marrying a marquis.” I wasn’t sure I could handle hearing her say the word marquis one more time. Every time she said it, her voice raised a few octaves. Soon I wouldn’t be able to understand her at all. “But what I don’t understand is why this is so distressing to you. Is it perhaps because Mr. Humphreys is an overtly ridiculous man?” I felt for Miss Jepson but not to the point of tears.
“Rose! Elizabeth has married the best in the family, and even she only bagged an earl.”
I looked toward heaven and said a prayer for patience; I had memorized the short verse years ago. I handed the letter back to my mother, and she immediately threw it to the floor.
“I came to tell you Lord Blakeley is coming to call. He should be here any moment.”
“Lord Blakeley!” my mother said, sitting up straighter. “He’s a marquis.”
“Yes, he is, and he can speak without showering unsuspecting victims.”
Mother gave me a look as if to say she couldn’t understand how we were related, which didn’t bother me. I often wondered the same thing.
A rapping sound made its way up to us from the main level. It was a sound we knew well—someone was at the door.
“That must be him now,” I said.
“But I am not ready! You will have to meet him on your own,” she said with a frown as both of her hands hit the bed. She very much resembled my two-year-old nephew at times. “Actually, perhaps that will be for the best.” She visibly perked up, got out of bed, and pushed me over to her mirror. “Pinch your cheeks,” she told me. “I have noticed that Lord Blakeley appreciates when you take extra time with your appearance.”
I shrugged my mother’s hands away. “I will be fine, Mama, but for now, I had better not keep him waiting.”
“Good luck, my dear!” my mother called as I left the room.
I walked down the stairs just in time to see the butler closing the door on the drawing room. He must have let Lord Blakeley in already.
I passed the butler at the landing of the stairs.
“You have a gentleman caller in the drawing room,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Sparrow. I’ll go there now,” I said as I brushed past him, ignoring the calling card he held out to me.
I threw open the door. “Lord Blakeley! Thank you so much for the lovely roses.” For a moment, there was only silence. I took in the room and realized I had made a mistake.
“Ah, so the roses are from Lord Blakeley,” William said, turning around. He stood in front of the table that held the flowers Lord Blakeley had sent. “I should have guessed.”
William was holding his own roses. He looked down at them once and then held them out to me. “I hope you can find a place for these.”
“Of course, Lord Telford,” I said, trying to get over my shock of having William here in my drawing room. I looked around the room and was suddenly self-conscious. William had never visited us in our home before. We had always been guests in his. Our drawing room was not shabby in the least—Mother would never have allowed that—but it was much smaller than the one at Feldstone, and for some reason, I felt the difference keenly. “Let me just hand these to the maid. She will find a place for them.”
I reached for the roses, but he held them back. “Is he coming here?”
“Lord Blakeley?” I asked, and he gave me a nod. “Yes, he should be here any minute. Perhaps you should go.”
“Perhaps I should,” he agreed as he finally handed me the roses. They were the same deep-blush color as the ones that used to adorn the entrance to his home. The same color as the first rose he’d ever given me. And most recently, the same color as the one he had destroyed in the garden.
I stepped out of the drawing room and handed them to Johanna. When I came back into the room, William was still there, only now he was sitting on a sofa with both arms sprawled out. His size made the sofa seem ridiculously small.
“I thought you were leaving?”
“Yes, I thought about it but decided to stay.”
“You are going to stay? But Lord Blakeley is coming.”
“Yes, I know, and like you said, perhaps I should leave. But I find I can’t make myself leave so you can spend the morning with another man.”
“Another man?” I asked incredulously. What right had he to worry about whom I spent my time with? I would have confronted him about it, but just then, Mr. Sparrow opened the door and led Lord Blakeley into the room.
“Miss Davenport,” Lord Blakeley said with a large enough smile that I was quite certain he hadn’t noticed the other guest in the room. “It is wonderful to see you.”
His eyes scanned the room now, and when they landed on his roses, his smile broadened. However, as he continued to look about him, he noticed William sitting comfortably on the sofa, and his grin disappeared.
“Lord Telford,” he said with a slight nod of the head. “What a surprise to see you here.”
William stood and walked over to shake Lord Blakeley’s hand. “It is not much of a surprise to see you here, I suppose. Rose—excuse me, Miss Davenport—told me you were coming.”
Lord Blakeley’s jaw clenched when William so casually used my Christian name. He might have made it look like an accident, but I could tell for certain he had done it on purpose to aggravate Lord Blakeley.
“I must excuse Lord Telford. We are old family friends; we practically grew up together. I am afraid at times we forget to be so formal.”
“I see that Lord Telford forgets, but I am positive I have never heard you make such a mistake,” Lord Blakeley said.
William raised his eyebrow at this, and I felt heat rush to my face. Surely he wouldn’t let Lord Blakeley know that I had been the one to insist on using his Christian name for so long.
“Of course,” I said quickly before William could contradict me. “I remain the soul of discretion where Lord Telford is concerned. Now, would you like some tea?”
“Yes,” they both said simultaneously.
I sighed and gave William a glare. “I will ring for it.”
“I do hope your cook has prepared petit fours,” William said, and my eyes widened in horror. He wouldn’t . . .
“Have you seen Miss Davenport eat petit fours? It is quite entertaining,” William said.
“I am quite sure we won’t be having petit fours,” I said between gritted teeth.
“Ah,” William said. “Banbury cakes, then. That will do quite as well.”
I groaned out loud, and Lord Blakeley stood up from his seat.
“Miss Davenport,” Lord Blakeley said. “Perhaps you should ask this young man to leave. He is obviously causing you distress.”
“Do you want me to leave?” William asked. “I will if you ask me.”
Yes! I wanted to shout, but I couldn’t. His eyes seemed to convey the importance of the question, and I couldn’t help but wonder what had brought him here.
“Why are you here, Lord Telford? I thought we had said everything that needed to be said at your estate two weeks ago.”
“Not everything that needed to be said.” His eyes were so intense I had a hard time looking away from them. Why couldn’t I say no to William when he looked me in the eye?
“Lord Blakeley, would you mind calling a little later? Or perhaps another day, if that works better for you?” I asked without taking my eyes off William.
“Miss Davenport, if I leave now, I am afraid I will not be returning at another point. Are you positive that is what you want?”
I tore my eyes away from William. Lord Blakeley’s face was ruddy, and his back was stiff and awkward. He stood next to the settee with one hand clutching the back of it.
“Lord Blakeley, please don’t be offended. I will talk to Lord Telford today, and then I am confident he will have no more reason to visit here.” I didn’t want to irritate him. I didn’t want to be rude. But I felt compelled to hear what William had to say.
Lord Blakeley’s grip on the settee tightened, and I saw his veins rise on the back of his hand. “I will leave today, but Lord Telford, if I see that you have hurt her in any way or if her glow is dimmed by your presence here as it has been at balls, as well as that day in Hyde Park, I will not forgive you for it.”
