Marriage to a Mister (A Daughters of Regency #1) (9 page)

She finally saw them, sitting off to the side as always, conversing among themselves. She followed Julia as she weaved between the guests, pausing to say hello to a few acquaintances here and there, until finally she stepped around Julia to take the seat next to Charity.

She looked to her friend, and the tension of the day eased just a little bit. She was always more comfortable at these things when her friend was around. Charity leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Fleur, you've only arrived and already you look done for. Your cheek felt warm, are you feeling well?"

"Yes, I'm quite well, though I suppose I am a bit warm. Why do these things always have to be such a squeeze?"

Charity smiled and took Fleur's hand in her own. "Because it's everyone's last chance to be seen before they retire to the country. They couldn't miss that, now could they?"

Fleur followed Charity's eyes to a dancing couple and winced when Mr. Trentham trod all over Charlotte Smith's toes, something they had all experienced, poor man. "No indeed, what would one have to talk about all winter if one missed the last social event of the season? So much excitement."

Charity cleared her throat and looked back to Fleur, trying not to laugh when she heard Mr. Trentham apologizing to Miss Smith once more. The looked at each other in all seriousness, trying to keep control lest they burst out laughing. "I'm sure they would think of something, would they not?"
 

Fleur laughed behind her fan and eyed her friend. It was good to see Charity in such happy spirits at last, the pain of losing her elder brother lessening with time.
 

 
"What are you two laughing about?" asked Julia, now seated between Prudence and Phoebe.

Charity lowered her fan. "Poor Charlotte Smith is dancing with Mr. Trentham."

"Oh, poor Charlotte," said Julia before turning back to Prudence.

Fleur sighed. "My father wished me to express his regret of not seeing your own father in town. Though he understands he's been much occupied with everything at home, Papa had hoped he would come."

Charity's smile faltered and Fleur regretted reminding her friend of how her father remained at home mourning her brother, though he'd been dead more than a year.
 

Charity smiled again though Fleur saw through it. "Yes, I'm sure he'd love to be here and he's promised to bring me up next year himself along with my aunt. You know how father loves a ball."

"Of course I remember. He always is such a delight at the assemblies at home, making sure everyone has a partner and not one young lady is left standing in a corner. What would he say if he could see us now?" asked Fleur, grateful for the turn in conversation.
 

"He'd have all of us paired off before we knew it, one of us to Mr. Trentham, no doubt."

Fleur laughed and then looked out into the room. "I do miss home."

"Don't worry, in a few short weeks you will you be on your way back to Norfield."

Fleur tried to smile but couldn't find it within herself. She wouldn't be on her way to Norfield any time soon, not any longer.

She thought of home and of Mrs. Davis, who always sent up warm milk on fall and winter nights to warm her before bed, and of Mrs. Finch, the housekeeper, who always bickered with Mr. Baines about leaving her father's shirts too long before pressing them.

 
Suddenly she felt like weeping. When she left, she had no way of knowing that would be her last day at Norfield. She knew she would return for holidays and family visits, but it wasn't the same, not really.

Fleur jumped when she felt Charity's gloved hand touch her shoulder. "Whatever is the matter?"

She looked over at her concerned friend and scolded herself. How could she be wallowing in self-pity in front of her Charity, who had only been out of mourning a few months? She should be helping her forget her troubles, not adding to them.

"It's nothing, you know how I feel about these things."

"Yes, but it's more than that. I've known you too long, Fleur, so tell me what is wrong."

"It's only the heat of the rooms. Perhaps we can walk? The gardens?"

Charity nodded and they stood to leave, mindful to tell the others where they were going.

"Should we all go?" Julia asked.

Phoebe sighed. "I've promised the next set to Mr. Brandall." Her eyes became wider, and she looked at them quickly. "Please don't leave me here alone. I shall die if I'm on my own when he comes to fetch me."

Prudence laughed. "Sorry, but I've promised Mr. Henderson the next."

Charity sat back down, shaking her head. "For goodness sake, I'll stay. Julia, you and Fleur go. Honestly, you two. Fleur, I'll find you later?"

Fleur nodded and joined arms with Julia as they made their way towards the door. She heard Charity call Phoebe silly for getting worked up over Mr. Brandall, the biggest flirt to ever step foot inside of a ballroom.

Julia laughed and Fleur gave her a look. "Well, it's true," she said as she shrugged her shoulders.

"She shouldn't say such things, especially where she can be overheard, and neither should you."

"It's Charity," she said as if that explained everything, and it did.

Fleur lost herself in her own thoughts while following Julia, and she was halfway across the ballroom when none other than Nathan Carter came bounding up to her.

"Lady Fleur, this is a pleasure," Nathan said, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. "And Lady Julia, nice to see you again. You look quite fetching, even with that frightening scowl on your face."
 

Julia crossed her arms and looked upwards toward Nathan as he stood a good head over her. "Must you always be so loud and ... oh, I don't know ... full of
bounce
?" asked Julia.

Fleur stared at her sister in astonishment. Her gaze was broken by a deep rumbling laugh coming from behind Nathan, causing her to stiffen. She knew that laugh, a laugh that never failed to shake her to her very core.
 

"Nathan is never in any other humor but joy and merriment," said Evan. "He practically wrote the book on how to be pleasant in every scenario known to man. I don't think he knows any other way to be."

"Yes, I noticed," said Julia. "He is very pleasant indeed, though what he could be so happy about all hours of the day I do not know. Are you ever serious, Mr. Carter?"

Fleur was mortified. "Julia, really —"

"Don't worry about Nathan, he can hold his own," said Evan, looking directly into Fleur's eyes. "See, look at them, matching each other word for word like they have been doing so for years."

Fleur ignored the bickering two beside her and stared into eyes she had thought she'd never see again.
So dark
,
she thought, just as she remembered. Evander Woolf was standing in front of her, his hair darker and shorter than it had been as a young man.

She couldn't breathe - oh, why couldn't she just breathe?

He wasn't overly tall, not as tall as his brother, but he still stood above her, the top of her head reaching his nose. His attire, however inappropriate, showed off his well-defined chest, muscled shoulders, and calves. He was, she thought, perhaps not as elegant as some men in the room, but he was Evan. She again reminded herself to breathe.

"I hear congratulations are in order, Lady Fleur, as it seems you are soon to become family," he practically spat, taking a step towards her as she fought not to take her own step backwards. "We shall have to try our very hardest to make you feel welcome, now won't we?"

The words could have been the sweet words of a caring brother if not for the obvious ridicule in Evan's voice, and the hard look in his eyes, a look she had hoped she'd never see again.

Nathan and Julia stopped talking when they heard Evan's words and stared at him. He again stepped closer to Fleur.
 

"Yes, Mr. Woolf, I thank you for your
kind
words of welcome to your family," Fleur said, trying in her own defense to match him, her own anger coming forth.
 

Evan's laughter at her words held no joy, while Fleur's eyes darted around them. She was relieved and amazed to see no one had taken any notice of them.

"Evan, what is this?" Nathan asked quietly, grasping his upper arm while Julia stepped in front of Fleur, prepared to give him what-for.
 

Evan ignored them both. "You haven't changed at all, still silly, frightened Fleur, protected by her brave little sister, who at the age of six had more backbone than you carry now," Evan said. His lip curled and his eyes narrowed, and he looked her up and down as if to assess her. "If you will excuse me, I think I've seen enough."

Fleur couldn't move. Frozen, she couldn't turn her head to watch him walk away. Not again, she wouldn't.

"Lady Fleur," said Nathan.
 
"Apologies are not enough, but let me try in Evan's stead, he does not do well with ... well —"

"People?" Julia asked, her anger ready to boil over. "What a horrible man he has become. Though I don't know why I'm surprised, he's always been high and mighty, but how dare he —"

"Julia, please," Fleur begged her sister. "Really, Mr. Carter, it's all right. I've known Mr. Woolf all my life, and I'm well used to his character. If you both will excuse me I will just step outside for a moment."

 
"Fleur, wait, I will accompany you, it won't do for you to be —" Julia protested.

Fleur stopped Julia with a hand on her arm. "No, Julia, please. I think I'd like to be alone, for just a moment. I'll go out into the garden - there are people there strolling and it is well lit. You go and find Prudence then join me. Thank you Mr. Carter, it was a pleasure to see you again." Fleur turned on her heel and hurried her way to the garden, but not before both Nathan and Julia saw tears in her eyes.

"Has Evan lost his bloody mind? Oh, do excuse me, Lady Julia. "
 

"He lost his bloody mind a long time ago. This is not the first time he has hurt my sister." Julia said in agreement, making Nathan want to stare at her in shock, or laugh at her boldness, he couldn't decide which. "Keep him away from her, do you understand? I will not have him upsetting her any more than he already has."

"I assure you, Lady Julia, I will make sure Evan has no opportunity to do more harm this evening. Now, if you will excuse me, there is someone I must find."

Julia stood in the hall. In the room next to her were dozens of people, but the only thing she could see was the angry look on Nathan's face before he walked away, his jaw set, his stride purposeful. She could not help but stare at him as he departed, catching her breath from her anger as one thought ran through her mind. Apparently Mr. Carter could be serious after all, and she was not altogether sure how she felt about that.

DANGERS OF BLASTED FLOWER POTS

Fleur stepped quickly into the gardens just beyond and to the side of the ballroom doors. Not wanting to wander too far in case Julia couldn't find her, she stayed close, but she needed to escape from the crowds, to disappear if only for a moment.
 

She had been taken aback by him, even though she knew there was a slight chance he would appear. He was not supposed to be there, he was never there, and she had counted on that constant. Evan knew about the betrothal, that much was certain, and everything he had predicted to her the night he left had come true. His parents, her father, everyone had gotten what they wanted.

Everyone but she, Edward, and Evan.

It was always the same. Every year she and Julia would wave to them as they went off to school, Evan to Eton, and Edward to university, while they went home to Norfield. When she was little her father told her it was a game. She would count the days till they returned to Blackburn Hall to see them all again. Every Sunday her father would ask her the days on their walk home from church, and she would excitedly ramble off her answers.

But as she grew the game became childish, though her feelings became just the opposite. She missed both brothers terribly, but Evan even more so, and when he finally returned for Christmas from his first stint at university, with Edward for escort, she and Julia had both rushed to their sides, greeting them at the stables.

He had greeted her, not coldly, but not with the same warmth as before, and as they walked to the main house together, Edward and Julia before them, he barely spoke a word to her, all politeness about the weather and her family's health.

All her prior fears that he would not want to remain there with her and return to his life outside of Blackburn Hall came rushing back to her. That was until he had finally laughed and teased her about her red nose and cheeks from the December snow.
 

He had smiled at her then, and it took her breath away.
 

It was then he had stopped her mid-stride, and looked at her with all seriousness as he asked her to meet him in secret that night at the stables, telling her that he had something important to show her for her birthday. She knew she shouldn't, that they would both be in trouble if she agreed, but agree she did and promised him she'd get away as soon as she was able.
 

Later that night, she buzzed with anticipation, especially once Evan had stolen away. Several times she tried to get away but was thwarted at every attempt. First Madeleine had requested she play the pianoforte, and then Julia insisted they all play charades. When she had finally made her excuses and walked towards the doorway, she made the mistake of stopping to say goodnight to Edward, who had been leaning against the doorframe reading.

Her father had laughed and asked Edward if he had been standing in the doorway all night to catch her. Fleur was confused until a smiling Lord Blackburn pointed at the small bundle of mistletoe in the doorway. She immediately wanted to flee.

Edward, being the gentleman he was, relented, his own embarrassment gracing his face. He had closed his book and leaned down to kiss her, veering off last-second to her cheek. He'd smiled at her afterwards, and she was so thankful for his thoughtfulness, she had beamed at him before running off upstairs.