Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (17 page)

Ren nodded and Michael couldn’t help but think that Elise had something up her sleeve. She almost always did. And this felt too suspicious for her not to be planning or plotting something.

“Yes, thank you, Your Grace,” Beverly said. “What about you, Lord Camden?”

Michael set his cup down on the saucer. “I haven’t decided yet. I may spend the evening at home for once catching up on paperwork. You wouldn’t know that I’m in mourning to see the pile of invitations sitting on my desk. Too, I find myself weary of the constant social whirl. If it isn’t one event, it’s another.”

“I quite agree,” Elise replied. “Why it’s amazing you men get anything done at all this time of year.”

Her subtle imputations were not lost on him. Also, he knew exactly why she chose to accept that invitation to the theater from Huddleston. It was to make the point to him that her brother would not be disagreeable to a friend of his, and a man of similar age, marrying his sister. She was systematically invalidating each one of his rationales.

Elise chattered on while stirring her chocolate. “I also think it was that whirlwind of social activity that contributed to my catching that horrible head cold.”

“No doubt,” Michael droned with affected boredom before casually taking another sip of his coffee.

“The things we must endure to fulfill our duties and obligations to our status,” Elise declared. “I swear I am already thoroughly exhausted of the season and we are only a month in. Already I cannot wait to return to Haldenwood and my horses.” When she finished her chocolate, she set her cup down and excused herself, and Beverly soon followed.

It took him only minutes, but Michael understood her game now. The little vixen. She knew he has an affection for her, and she thought to make him jealous.

“Ha! Jealous?” Michael whispered as he took the ribbons of his team and cued them into traffic. “I’ve never been jealous of anyone.”

Until now
the voice in his head told him.

“T
hat went rather well,” Elise noted upon returning to Beverly’s rooms.

“Yes, quite. Though you must try harder
not
to take your jabs at Michael in the presence of your brother. His Grace will notice sooner or later, and you don’t want to risk his wrath.”

“You’re right, but I’m still very angry with him.” He kissed her. She didn’t kiss him. He was the one who stepped over the line first, and she could not help but think that he would not have done so if he didn’t feel at least something toward her.

“Be angry when you’re not in the same room as your brother. That’s all I ask. If he should catch wind of what we’re about, you’re back to the country and I’m stuck here with my father after Saturday’s ball. How can I help you then?”

“You are right, as usual,” Elise replied. “But do you think he surmised the reasons I chose the theater tonight with Huddleston and Wilson?”

“Without a doubt. He’s not a successful barrister because he’s dense, that’s for certain.” Beverly returned her attention to the stack of acceptance cards to her ball before her on the
secretaire
. “Now, would you like to send a note around to Sinclair, telling him you’ve recovered and would like to see him? I know I was not mistaken about the glaring looks Michael gave you when you danced with him.”

“No. The man failed to show up after saying he would and had I been home, he would have left me waiting for him with no explanation as to his disappearance. I should be angry with him, but instead I feel... nothing.”

“Perhaps he had good reason for not coming around.”

“
And
for not sending a note?”

“Point made,” Beverly stated.

Just then a knock on the door brought news from a footman that gentleman callers were in the morning room below asking if both young ladies were at home for visitors. “Tell them we will be down momentarily,” Elise replied.

“This is good,” Beverly said once the door was shut. “More competition for the commitment-leery Lord Camden.”

M
ichael and Ren lingered over another cup of coffee after the dishes had been cleared. Her Grace excused herself to write a letter to her brother and Ren’s littlest sister, still in the country.

“You’re certain this Huddleston and his friend aren’t despoilers of innocents?” Michael wanted to make sure that they weren’t protecting Elise from Sinclair, only to turn her over to someone worse. He’d heard of the Viscount, never anything shady or disreputable, but it bothered him that he didn’t know the man. When he arrived to his office he would have his secretary check with the usual debtors to see if Huddleston was current on his accounts. A lot could be learned about a man when you knew to whom he owed money.

“Certain,” Ren replied, leaning back in his chair. “The viscount is from the north somewhere, and is the quiet type. I think he’d prefer his hounds and the lure of a good hunt to the social diversions of Town. If I remember correctly, he’s quite a good hand with a horse, which is something he and Elise have in common. He served in the cavalry and like you, recently came into his title and is feeling the pressure of securing his legacy. Wilson’s father bought his commission and the captain has an excellent reputation for turning a coin on the exchange. The man turned his instinct for survival on the battlefield to surviving—no, thriving—in the financial markets. I’ve taken his advice on one or two investments and you and I both made a tidy little sum as a result. Both men were near the top of their classes at Oxford and neither is destitute. If either man made an offer for Elise, I’d be hard-pressed to refuse him.” His Grace reached for his cup. “And both girls could do much worse, as we witnessed with Sinclair.”

“You’ve done your homework already, it seems.” Michael hoped he was successful in hiding his aggravation. Ren was right, both girls
could
do worse. It still didn’t sit right with him. It should be him with Elise that night and every night. Him. Not Huddleston. Not Wilson.

Unless his friend relieved him of their mutual vow he could do nothing to give Elise hope. At least until
he
worked the courage up to make an offer for her himself.

“I didn’t have to, really. I know both men.”

“Doesn’t the age difference... disturb you?”

“Not really.” His friend scanned the room to make sure they were alone. “I’ll admit, at first it did, then I discussed it with Lia. She said much to lessen my unease and after mulling over what she said, I’ve concluded she’s right. Considering that a man isn’t really ready to marry until he’s in his prime, say thirty years, and a woman’s prime child-bearing years are in her late teens to about thirty, the age differential is to be expected. Besides no young buck is mature enough to make a good husband. Think on it, Michael, were
we
ready to be husbands and fathers at twenty or even twenty-five?”

Michael shook his head.

“There you have it. Also think about this—it will take a
man
, a strong man with the patience of all the saints in heaven combined, to handle Elise properly, not some young pup.”

Michael wanted to ask if Ren would feel the same way if
he
were to consider taking Elise to wife, but thought better of it. Now if only Michael could forget the way her lips felt beneath his and her delicate scent of lavender in summer. And the way she smiled at him as though
he
were the reason behind the smile, the secret behind the sparkle in her amber eyes. He had to get out of here before he said something he might regret.

“Well, I shall be off,” Michael popped up out of his seat, and stated with more cheer in his voice than he felt in his heart. “The office awaits and I’ve lingered too long over breakfast.”

“But you didn’t even eat,” Ren said. “Are you well? Don’t tell me
you’re
coming down with that head cold as well.”

“I assure you I am well. Just not... hungry this morning.”

He bid his friend farewell, and during the carriage ride to his offices he realized if he didn’t say something to his friend soon, Ren would likely give his sister in marriage to another.

Then again, even if he did want to tell his friend he wanted to court his sister, he couldn’t. He was in mourning and where at first that fact was somewhat of a shield protecting him from the annoying invitations and requests for introductions to every damn available chit in the
ton
, it was now a major annoyance. Now, he had to watch Elise dance and smile and laugh with every young rake who asked her.

He attacked the mountain of correspondence on his desk with vicious efficiency. His afternoon meeting with a client didn’t go as well as he’d expected and his frustration with his clerk became so evident as to merit an apology to the man. Before he accidentally offended any other employees, he decided to take himself home along with a stack of important papers requiring concentration.

Stepping out of his carriage at his home in Hanover Square, Michael saw Lady Randolph and Lady Caroline standing at the curb of the footpath, waiting for their carriage.

“Lord Camden,” the older woman, Lady Randolph greeted. Michael thought her hat abominable with summer fruits arranged in a small cornucopia, resting off to the side. As he spoke, he could hardly tear his eyes from the sight. “How wonderful to see you again. We have just come from tea with your neighbor, Lady Ennisdale,” she said.

“How... pleasant.” Michael drolled, wondering what his neighbor was gossiping about now. Likely she had him betrothed to someone, after all, the gossip sheets had him with a new woman once a week.

Then a thought came to him. He had to make certain Elise was safe with Wilson and Huddleston, and what better way to do that than from within the theater?

He looked down to Lady Caroline’s upturned face to see a bored young lady wishing she were somewhere—anywhere—else right then.

“Lady Caroline, do you enjoy the theater?”

T
he handsome Viscount Huddleston, and the equally dashing Captain Wilson led Elise, Beverly and Captain Wilson’s sister to the ducal box at Covent Garden Theater. Elise allowed herself to be escorted by the captain, after Beverly stated a preference for the viscount earlier in the evening while finishing their toilette.

“The Viscount is nearly the perfect man for me Elise,” Beverly said. “He’s an avid horseman who also has an appreciation for opera and theater. You know that last immensely raises him in my esteem. It is so difficult to find a man who truly appreciates the stage, and opera in particular.”

What no one outside the Halden and Hepplewhite families knew was that Beverly had a most beautiful mezzo-soprano singing voice. If it weren’t for her extreme shyness at performing she would surely be the
ton’s
songbird. But Beverly could never perform for an audience for she’d freeze and be unable to sing a note. Thus she only sang in the privacy of her room or when she thought no one was about.

Elise spared herself the excruciating humiliation of playing an instrument or singing because she knew she didn’t do either well. Her piano instructor had once commented, “I’m afraid there isn’t enough money in all of England that could force one to sit in a room and listen to your ladyship play.” From that moment on, she never again laid her fingers on the ivory keys, which suited her just fine. She’d rather have been spending those long tedious hours with her horses anyway.

Elise suggested that they sit in the ducal box as her brother and sister-in-law were otherwise entertained this night. Knowing the box had a better view of the stage than the Viscount’s rented box on the level above them, it just made sense to suggest it.

Beverly nodded, her elegantly coiffed curls bouncing in agreement, saying, “That is a very good idea, Elise. Though only if the rest of our party doesn’t mind.” Turning to the captain’s sister, Mrs. Leonard, Beverly added, “You really can see more of the stage and hear the music better from there.”

As the footman opened the doors to the Caversham box, the sight that greeted Elise simultaneously infuriated her and made her heart skip several beats. Seated in her brother’s large box were Michael and the beautiful Lady Caroline Randolph, with her mother, Lady Randolph, seated in front of them near the rail, her opera glasses already in hand peering down upon the crowds filing in below. Refusing to allow his presence to shake her, she caught her breath and counted to ten—quickly—before greeting them. Mrs. Pritchard would have been proud.

“My lord.” She nodded to Michael, who had an exaggerated, if not purely comical, look of surprise on his face. She was going to kill him, Elise told herself as they entered her brother’s box. Looking over to the beautiful lady at his side, Elise greeted Lady Caroline as well.

“Perhaps we should go to our box, Lady Elise,” Huddleston offered.

“Not at all, Huddleston,” Michael replied. “There’s room here for all of us.” Michael motioned for a footman to bring more chairs. “We’ll move to the left, and your group can have the remainder of the box. I would have gone to my box, except it’s been let this season.” Michael looked from Huddleston to Wilson, then Elise. “I so rarely use it.”

“And you chose to come to the theater tonight, of all nights! How fortunate for us” Elise was going to kill him in the morning if he showed his face at breakfast.

“I thought you were staying in tonight and working, Lord Camden,” Beverly said.