Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (19 page)

“Would you care to explain to
me
what transpired? You left here with one escort and returned with another.”

She told him exactly what occurred, hoping it would soothe his temper. She was mistaken, and correct in her earlier assumption that he’d hold her responsible.

“I’m telling you the truth. I had nothing to do with it. First—” She ticked off the count on her fingers for emphasis. “—
he
showed up in your box after
knowing
Beverly and I would attend the theater with Huddleston and Wilson, for we discussed it at this very table yesterday morning. Why is that?”

She lifted another finger. “Second, about the punch. It was an accident. I had no way of knowing he was behind the door. Third, it seems Captain Wilson and Caroline Randolph have been secretly carrying a
tendre
for each other for quite a while, but neither Michael nor myself knew of it.”

When Elise returned her hands to her lap, Lia grasped them under the table. Elise was thankful for her support as Ren rarely thought Elise innocent whenever mayhem occurred.

“Husband,” Lia began, “in light of these facts, you can hardly reach the conclusion that Elise had a hand in this.”

“Forgive me, but her track record with regard to any incident involving Michael has given me cause to doubt her.” He glared a warning to Elise. “And rightfully so.”

“I know you do not believe me, but I had nothing to do with last night’s events.”

Ren pushed back from the table and rose. “I’m going to reiterate once more just so you don’t forget. Do
not
presume to bring scandal onto our family. You’ll not like Scotland in the winter.”

When she entered her room afterward, Elise was met by an anxious Beverly. “That went about as I expected.” Elise threw herself onto the bed. “Ren thinks
I
initiated last night’s debacle and has once more warned me about scandal. He threatened, yet again, to send me to Scotland.”

“I take it Michael was not present to corroborate the facts.”

“No, and I don’t think Ren’s spoken to him this morning.”

“Well,” her friend began, “we need to re-think our plan.”

Clutching the pillow she grinned wide, and rocked with unspent, excited energy. “No, Lord Camden has now noticed my existence as a woman. Your plan is working beautifully. Now, let’s see.... What are we going to do today?”

M
ichael entered the ballroom at the home of Lord and Lady Purvis and was immediately inundated with greetings and invitations to meet daughters, sisters and other various female relations of both friends and strangers alike. He didn’t want to appear rude, but he kindly sidestepped each trap and wended his way through the crowd to stand near a group of acquaintances while his eyes scanned the attendees for a familiar willowy, short-haired brunette with amber eyes.

He spied her on the dance floor, her graceful form dipping and swaying to the country dance played by the orchestra. In a gown of palest pink, she was the young nymph that haunted his dreams of late. When she turned and he got a glimpse of the daring neckline of her dress, he froze. Surely her brother didn’t allow her to leave the house looking like that. If so, he would have to have a talk with his friend.

Then he remembered. It wasn’t his place. He’d made no claim to her. Yet.

His eyes followed her through the dance and watched as she curtsied, thanking her partner, and immediately returning to her group in a corner near the entrance onto the veranda.

Cartland’s man on the inside, Mr. Carroll, sided up to him and leaned on the other side of the same column Michael held up. They both faced the ballroom floor, the object of their attention some twenty feet away from the edge of the floor, in a semi-circle of too-young, aspiring rakes. “The lady has danced every single dance since she arrived, except the waltzes.” The investigator glanced over at Michael, who met his gaze for a moment then turned back to watch Elise. “Do you know if she has permission?” The investigator did the same, but spoke to him in hushed tones. “I don’t want to ask her if she hasn’t received it yet. As tall and graceful as she is, waltzing with her would like waltzing on a cloud.” Michael grunted. “She might be high above me, but when you’re in her presence she doesn’t make you feel it. She is truly an unique and rare jewel among the paste. Is she not?”

“Carroll, you have a job to do.” God, this was all he needed. Another besotted pup to shove away when he claimed his prize. But only if he grew the backbone needed to approach his friend.

The investigator chuckled. “If I didn’t know that you were one of the men who’d been cleared from being suspect, I’d report that you were one to keep the lady from. Especially with the covetous way you look at her as though she were the last morsel on the dessert tray.”

Michael pushed away from the post, mumbling, “At least she remembers my name.” He didn’t think Carroll heard. In fact, now that he’d said it, he realized it was best he hadn’t. Michael didn’t want to antagonize the man who was supposed to protect the woman he wanted as his wife. He strolled around the fringes of the ballroom, greeting friends and speaking with dowagers—his mind always on where Elise was at any given moment.

Around her were at least a half-dozen men, young bucks and old rakes alike, hanging on to her every word, eager to perform her every whim when she asked. Someone handed her a lemonade from a passing footman’s tray and she smiled radiantly to him in thanks.

He’d be damned if he would approach her and become one of the fawning fops gathered around her skirts. His only reason for attending, he reminded himself, was to see that she remained safe. No rule said he had to do that within ten feet of her.

B
everly leaned over and whispered to Elise, “He’s here and he’s noticed you. Keep up the good work.”

“Where is my grandmother?”

“Seated near the punch table with several other dowagers.”

She nodded and replied to something a gentleman near her said, hoping her comment sounded appropriate. For all she knew, she could have just agreed to marry him. Looking again at his bulbous nose and goat-like smile she decide that wouldn’t do at all. She simply had to pay more attention to the conversation lest she say something she’d regret.

Elise shifted her position such that she was facing Michael and could just barely spy him over the left shoulder of the man conversing with her. Out of the corner of her eye she would occasionally catch a glimpse of Michael when he moved, his black evening attire making him appear pather-like in the brightly-lit ballroom. From where he stood at the edge of the room with his crowd of friends she could occasionally meet his gaze and whenever she did she’d pretend to ignore him. And even though he did not dance, she did. Often.

Remembering the embarrassment he caused her the night before at the theater, and watching as he held on to a young lady’s hand a good bit longer than necessary for an introduction, Elise realized two could play this game. She closed her eyes a moment and took a deep breath. Then she faced her admirers with renewed charm.

Elise hated to lose.

Lord Edmond bowed, “My lady, I believe this dance is mine.”

Elise hoped her smile reached her eyes as she laid her hand on his and allowed him to lead her into the crowd on the floor. And so it went. Dance after dance. Until the evening finally ended for the two young ladies and Lady Sewell.

At home, before climbing into her bed, she said a prayer that she was doing the right thing. Because for the first time in a week, Michael hadn’t come to greet her, hadn’t even acknowledged her presence all night. All she had to rely on were Beverly’s assurances that he had, in fact, never taken his eyes off her.

T
he next morning brought a flurry of activity once again to Caversham House. Footmen moved furniture, flower deliveries were made, and upstairs, Beverly finished packing her belongings for the move to her father’s townhouse. Lord Hepplewhite sent a note to his daughter informing her of his arrival in town and with a squeal and dance, Beverly begged to be off to meet with him, promising to return in plenty of time to ready herself for her momentous evening. This left Elise quite alone for the first time in months.

She sent word to have her mare saddled, thinking the morning a beautiful one for a ride through the park. Donning her favorite habit and gloves, she topped her head with a stylish hat sporting a dyed ostrich feather plume.

Waiting in the foyer for the horse and groom, she spotted Michael leaving Ren’s office. She wanted to dive into another room to wait for him to depart, but it was too late. He’d seen her as well.

“Good morning, Elise. Off for a ride?”

“Yes, I feel the need for fresh air and sunshine.” She hoped she sounded bored enough to dissuade him from joining her. He was handsome as usual this morning, and she hated him for it, but there was something else about him she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Then she wondered at how—or more precisely with whom—he’d spent his evening after leaving the Purvis’ ball. A twinge of jealousy toward the possible other woman gnawed at her.

“Good. Good,” he said. “Enjoy the day, then.”

With that, he was gone. Out the front door, up on his waiting horse before she could shut her gaping mouth. What? No biting sarcasm in return? Was he feeling well?

She didn’t have long to ponder those questions because the groom arrived with her mare and his own gelding. He handed her up into the saddle and followed her into the park at an appropriate distance. Once she rounded the far side of the Serpentine, she cued her mare into a steady canter and relished the breeze on her face.

Elise had to prepare herself for the very real possibility that he would never love her as she loved him. He had kissed her and found her kiss lacking, and probably didn’t know how to let her down without hurting her. Ignoring her was his way of doing the deed.

Damn coward.

Elise turned off the bridal path and jumped a log here and there before slowing down and turning for home.

She needed a change of scenery. When she returned to the house, she would ask Lia if it would be appropriate to quit town for Haldenwood after Beverly’s ball tonight—for at least a week, preferably two. She really was tired of this social schedule young ladies were expected to keep and missed her horses at home. In the letter she’d received yesterday from their stable manager at Haldenwood, three of the four foals that were due from her new mares had been born over the past two days. She wanted to see them, and check on the progress of the horses in training.

A spark of self-doubt caused by Michael’s actions the night before threatened to spread. Going home for a few weeks would be the coward’s way out of an uncomfortable situation. If she went home to Haldenwood she would be running away from the pain, of watching Michael court another, perhaps even Lady Caroline Randolph. Rather than facing those emotions head on and coming to terms with his indifference to her, she would be running.

As her brother’s friend and business partner, Elise would be forced to see Michael, and occasionally hear her brother speak of him, even if he married another. It was pain she must learn to abide whether she lived at Haldenwood or—heaven forbid—was exiled to The Box, which according to her brother was so far from Aberdeen there were no humans for miles.

“Lady Elise!” A male voice called from behind her.

Elise turned around to see Sinclair coming toward her, his team of pacers winded and breathing hard. She stopped her mare off the path and allowed him to catch up to her. She wondered if he was now ready to apologize for not showing up for their ride earlier that week.

“Mister Sinclair, how good to see you.” She dropped a glance to his horses. “Exercising your team I see.”

Sinclair looked at her somewhat sheepishly and continued. “I must explain what happened and apologize for not taking you on our appointed ride the other day.” Elise looked back at her groom resting some twenty feet away, and relaxed. She turned back to Sinclair. “You see, I went to speak to your brother that morning and—” Elise thought he looked both sad and embarrassed. “—and his grace would not give me permission to take you for a drive. In fact, he warned me away from you.”

Elise was surprised at this, not only because Sinclair appeared harmless, but that Ren would do this without telling her. He had to have had his reasons, but out of courtesy he should have told her as he knew she had been waiting on him that day.

Sinclair turned to her with his handsome visage sincere with regret.

“I didn’t want you to think that I never showed for our appointed ride. The truth is I’d been told not to return. As I have abided by his grace’s warning, when I saw you I felt I owed you this explanation as I do hold you in high esteem.”

“Mr. Sinclair, while I respect my brother’ authority as my guardian, I make my own decisions regarding whom I consider my friends.

His face brightened, as he smiled. “I would consider myself beyond fortunate if you might consider me your friend. Especially as I would value your opinion, and any pointers you have on training my new team.

“I would be glad to offer you assistance with your horses,” she said. “How can I help you?”

After discussing the issue he’d been having with his team, Elise and Sinclair settled on meeting in the park the very next day so she could drive his team and see how they went for her in the harness. Of course she would have to keep this a secret from her brother. He’d likely be cross with her. But perhaps after one or two sessions she could confess to Ren, and hopefully he’d see Sinclair as she did—a harmless rake who wanted her help with his horses and maybe even a friend.