Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (10 page)

Elise and Beverly followed grandmother and Lia as they all made their way through the crowd which parted for them thanks to either Lia’s rank or grandmother’s cane, she wasn’t sure which. As she moved through tightly-packed ballroom, it felt as though the eyes of the entire
ton
were on her. If the entirety of the guests at the Everly ball thought she’d be so daring every night as she had been the previous night now that she was officially out, they would be wrong.

Conventionality prevailed this night, as Elise appeared in a pale green satin evening dress with a patent net overlay. Delicate lace gathered her hem into pleated scallops and traced the seams in her modest bodice. With a string of tiny emeralds grazing her collarbone, and the larger ones dangling from her ears, she was feeling almost as confident tonight as she had the night before.

They nodded and greeted several guests they knew, and even a few they didn’t. She and Beverly greeted a group of friends, and promised to return momentarily. They then followed Lia and Grandmother onward to the matrons seated near a bank of windows for the breeze if offered. Beverly lifted two cups of punch from the tray held by the footman and handed them to Elise, then took two more for Lia and her grandmother.

“I’m so glad you came, Your Grace,” one of the guests said, as she came up to their group as her sister-in-law assisted her grandmother into a chair. When the woman saw she had Lia’s attention, she dipped into a curtsy before the duchess, then greeted her grandmother. “Lady Sewell,” the woman said.

Elise knew Lia was still uncomfortable with the attention she received when out at events, but also that it was one part of her new life that she would, with time, become accustomed to.

“Lady Marchmont,” Lia said, “I would like to introduce you to my sister-in-law, Lady Elise Halden and her dear friend, Lady Beverly Hepplewhite.”

The pinch-faced, beak-billed woman nodded and forced a smile, and raising her hand she called forward her daughters to introduce them to Lia. Two equally pinch-faced girls came forward, they could not possibly be more than sixteen years of age.

Beverly then handed the punch cups to Grandmother and Lia, and after introductions were made all around. Lia gave the slightest nod that Elise took as their cue to be off. She and Beverly walked over to a group of their friends, some of whom they’d seen only hours ago in the park, and began chatting until the orchestra returned from break.

From nowhere it seemed, Sinclair appeared to take a place next to her and joined in their conversation. Elise tried to pinpoint what it was about him that caused her to be on edge when he was around. Any young lady in the room would be lucky to have Mr. Sinclair’s attention as he was fair of face and form. Impeccably groomed, he dressed in the very latest color and fashion, his clothing was expensive and tailor-made to his broad chest and narrow hips. His disposition was kind and he enjoyed conversing on some of the same topics as she. He seemed well-educated and intelligent.

But he wasn’t Michael. The man her heart hungered for.

When a new piece began, he turned to her. “My lady, may I have the honor?”

For a moment she’d thought to beg off and escape to the retiring room, but it would be beyond rude to decline his offer of partnering her. And as much as she wanted to, she just couldn’t refuse him. To do so would not help people believe she’d grown up. Nodding and placing her gloved hand on his arm, he led her gracefully through the crowded dance floor, one hand lightly on her waist, as he partnered her in a country dance, where his expert moves were everything a gentleman could aspire to, and as his hand warmed under hers, she began to relax.

After a minute, he gazed down at her, his blue eyed expression serious. “I wanted to ask if I might pay a call tomorrow.”

“Of course you can call, sir.” She smiled at him, wanting to give him the same opportunity she would any other appropriate young man who showed interest in her opinions. “We can continue our conversation on the merits of educating the poor. You seem enlightened in so many areas of reform, perhaps I will be able to convert you yet.”

“Perhaps,” he replied. She looked up into his expression and saw his grow soft. “If I wanted to ask you for a carriage ride in the park, would you be so inclined?”

“As long as you get permission from my brother, and my groom is present, I don’t see why not.”

Sinclair nodded in agreement and as they continued to dance his blond hair fell onto his forehead giving him a quaint boyish charm. She chided herself for her earlier observation of him. He seemed sincere and harmless. She thought maybe she’d not given him enough time to relax and become himself in her presence.

When their music ended, Sinclair returned her to their group, then left to get them a beverage. While he was gone, another gentleman asked for her company in the next dance. Seeing Beverly move onto the floor with another partner, Elise nodded and allowed her new partner to lead her onto the floor.

When she returned to her group of friends in the corner she saw Sinclair waiting, holding two flutes of what appeared to be champagne. His handsome face had a fleeting dark expression, but as soon as their eyes met it changed and softened again. Was there anger directed at her dance partner? Or had she mistaken the look she’d just witnessed? He seemed much more relaxed now, but for a moment she swore his eyes shot daggers at the unfortunate young man in front of her. She thanked her partner and he bowed before leaving for the card room.

Sinclair smiled and handed her a glass. Elise thanked him, took a sip of the contents to see how bubbly it was before taking a healthy swig because she was so thirsty. Her companion smiled and chuckled. “Would you like more, my lady?” he asked.

She closed her eyes, letting the liquid flow into her veins, relaxing her. “No thank you, this is quite sufficient.” She watched as Beverly remained on the floor with her partner for yet another dance with the same gentleman. Her friend knew the unwritten two dance rule as she’d reminded Elise of it often enough, any more than that and she’d be as much as declaring her betrothal.

“Who is the man dancing with Lady Beverly?”

Sinclair squinted, as he focused on the throng of people on the floor. “That is Sir Terrence Marlowe. He’s my cousin, but more importantly I consider him a friend.”

Elise lifted her eyes to his. “I just want to make sure my friend is not falling for the wrong sort.”

“Your concern is unnecessary. He’s as gentle as a lamb.” He lifted her gloved hand, and placed a kiss on her fingertips. “As am I, my lady.”

From somewhere behind her, a familiar voice said, “Sinclair.” Sinclair nodded his greeting to the man her heart wanted above all others.

“Camden,” Sinclair returned, still holding Elise’s free hand.

Turning to Elise, Michael said, “I’ve been asked, by your brother, to look in on your well-being. Are you having a good time, my lady?”

Elise could hardly breathe. How could he expect an answer from her? Withdrawing her hand from Sinclair’s grasp, she smiled up at Michael. “Of course, I am. Tell His Grace he needn’t worry.”

“He’ll be greatly relieved.” Michael continued to stand guard over Elise, causing Sinclair to shift nervously in his midst.

When Beverly and her dance partner returned, Sir Terrence greeted Michael and left to get the ladies some punch. Sinclair remained at Elise’s right, Michael on her left. Beverly and another young lady whose name Elise couldn’t remember struck up a conversation next to Michael. For several long minutes, an awkward silence fell over Elise and the two men. She downed her champagne and placed the empty flute on a passing tray.

The musicians began the strains of a waltz and as a crowd of more dancers headed to the already packed floor, Michael moved to in front of her and bowed. Elise wasn’t expecting a dance with him. Last night was an uncommon occurrence as he’d rescued her from an unwanted dance partner. Her heart began to race at the thought he’d ask her again. Heaven help her, but Lady Richard would think she was corrupting her son.

“Would you care to take a stroll around the room, Lady Elise?”

Forgetting that Sinclair stood next to her, she lifted a trembling hand and took Michael’s extended one. They hooked arms and he placed hers on his forearm, then rested his other over the top. The warmth from his hand seeped through his glove and hers, calming her nerves.

This man always evoked the most pleasant sensations in her.

She glanced over at him as they strolled around the edge of the room. He was handsomely attired, as always, in his black trousers and coat. As he always wore black, much like her brother, the markings of his mourning were not plainly visible. She noted his polished gold buttons had been exchanged for the onyx ones, and he wore the black velvet armband over his sateen coat sleeve. His snowy white cravat was tied in an intricate knot, with an onyx pin held the creation in place.

He looked wonderful. And miserable.

She wondered if men ever felt trussed-up like the proverbial Christmas goose, as women often did. As she herself
usually
did.

His hand purposefully over hers, Michael led her straight through the crush of people, to the far side of the room and away from Sinclair’s prying eyes. He didn’t stop until he’d taken her through the open doors leading to the veranda.

“Where... are you... taking me?” she stammered, confused at his actions. “We’ll be missed.”

“Not in that crowd.” He turned a corner and kept going, dragging her along, past other privacy-seeking couples, until he found a secluded area between doors that seemed to satisfy him. When he turned to her, his hazel eyes glowed with what she thought was anger. For the life of her she couldn’t understand what she’d done to cause his upset with her.

Even though he was beautiful when he was mad, she much preferred his smiles and sweet words to this darker emotion. The color in his cheek and the taught set to his chin made her want to reach out and touch him, to smooth the worry away, though to do so publicly might encourage his wrath.

“Did I do something to displease you, my lord?” she asked. “You appear angry. Is it with me?”

He seemed to struggle with his emotion and words before he spoke, and when he did they were clipped and tense. “Do you always drink your champagne so quickly. Do you not understand what alcohol does to a woman’s inhibitions?”

“It was one tiny flute, Michael, and it was flat. It could hardly cause loosened inhibitions, could it?” She turned to walk away from him, but his hand snaked out to grasp hers.

“Have a care not to let the likes of Sinclair monopolize so much of your time. You’ll drive away other, better-suited admirers and perhaps taint yourself with a reputation which you’ll not find easily erased.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

He appeared to consider his words before speaking. “Just that men know things about other men, that are best not mentioned in front of ladies.”

“Oh, he seems harmless enough,” she replied in all honesty. “He’s been most kind, and attentive.”

“Mark my words, Elise, he is not the sort with whom you’ll want your name attached.”

“Thank you for your warning.” She turned to re-enter the room before anyone noticed she was gone. “But I’m able to choose my own friends.”

He grasped her wrist, stopping her. His hazel eyes cold and possessive. “I thought you said you didn’t enjoy his company?”

“That was last night. I find tonight’s reaction to him rather the opposite.” She lifted her hand and began to tick off her reasons on her fingers for Michael’s benefit. “Firstly, he isn’t at all bad looking, and I thought so last night as well. Secondly, he does not treat me as a child to be reprimanded for some imagined slight.” She met his leveled gaze. “And thirdly, he listens to me and my ideas regarding education reform. We discuss topics that interest us both. Topics outside the latest fashions and gossip. And arguments.” The last was added specifically to remind him of his annoying habit of taking her words and making them weapons in his squabbles with her.

“So you see, much as it pains me to admit I might have been mistaken, I believe I may have been with regard to Mr. Sinclair.” Her voice sounded odd to her own ears, tinged with regret.

Without ever laying a hand on her he turned her, pinning her against the facade between the open doors of Lord Everly’s library. His great mass had pushed her until she felt the cool stone wall behind her. His eyes now sparked with an angry fire, pinning her more effectively than had he physically restrained her. Something flashed in those eyes, an emotion she’d not realized he held toward her until now.

Jealousy.

Her heart raced then leaped as she recognized it. Her breathing became shallower then stopped as he leaned toward her, his lips coming dangerously close to her own. Her whole being shivered in anticipation when she realized he intended to kiss her. Unconsciously she licked her lips.

But instead of pressing his lips against hers, he leaned in close and whispered into her ear, “I will only say this once more, Elise. Be wary of Sinclair. He’s in desperate straits and is in need of the biggest fortune he can land. And you outrank him, so on both those accounts, I know your brother will not approve his suit.”

Frustrated with his teasing actions, she felt compelled to remind Lord Camden that he held no power over her. “My brother has said I could marry for love Michael, and I will. I care not for a title and my wealth can sustain myself and whomever I choose as husband comfortably for the rest of our lives.”