Midnight Bride (31 page)

Dunstan and Charles stood there for a moment. Then Dunstan put his hand over his face as if trying to wipe away bad memories. Charles slapped him on the back, "I told you Mama would help," he said, his face smiling.

"Yes," Dunstan said quietly. "Now, if your sister will respond. I am tired. Make my excuses for me, Charles. I will see the ladies tomorrow." He walked out of the room, his usually straight shoulders sagging just a little.

Charles, left to his own amusement, stayed at his mother's. He would talk to his sister that very afternoon. When Elizabeth returned, she found him in the drawing room waiting for her. One look at his face was enough to rouse her anger. "How could you do it, Little Bit?" he had asked, his face registering his disapproval.

"Do what?" She took off her top hat and put it on the table and then ran her fingers through her tousled curls.

"Refuse Dunstan."
Charles stood there looking down at her. "What will happen now if these rumors spread to Brighton?"

"They will not," she said firmly as if she could stop them just by wishing. "Jeffries assured me that he would put a stop to them."

"Your butler must be truly remarkable, Elizabeth. To stop rumors after they have already spread. Be realistic. Accept Dunstan."

"Little brother, my life is my own. I will decide when and if I will marry. And it will not be
be
cause
society
says I must." She glared at him, wishing that she were younger so that she could throw something at him as she often had when she was a girl. "Now, I am going upstairs to dress for the evening. I would suggest that you return home to do the same."

"Little Bit, please . . ." he began.

"Charles, stop. We will never agree on this," she said sadly, wishing that just one member of her family understood how she felt. "Little brother, I understand that you want to protect me, but this time you cannot. I refuse the protection you provide. I must face this in my own way." She looked at him, just a hint of tears in her eyes.

"Will it distress you if Dunstan remains in Brighton?" he asked, not certain what he would do if she said yes.

The thought of Brighton without Lord Dunstan was somehow more than she could bear. "No," she said quietly. Before he could ask the other questions she saw in his eyes, Elizabeth left.

The next few days were curious ones; she had seen Dunstan every day. But he was the perfect gentleman. Never by word or deed did he remind her of the secret they shared. Sometimes it was almost disconcerting, she told herself. Her memories were vivid even if his were not.

Dunstan's memories were as vivid as her own. However, following Lady
Ramsburg's
suggestions, he was allowing Elizabeth time to get to know him, to understand how he felt. The task was not an easy one. Following the pattern he had established that First evening, Dunstan took long walks along the beach at night, his eyes on the waves, but his mind on Elizabeth.

As if his presence were not enough, his bouquets arrived regularly, although not just for Elizabeth. Lady
Ramsburg
and Louisa received their share and it was often his flowers they carried as they went out in the evenings.

More and more people had left London, joining the early comers at the seashore. As more people arrived, entertainments grew more frequent. Soon their evenings included early balls, a card party or two, and some musical evenings. Elizabeth found these evenings more agreeable than the ones she spent at home, except when she had to watch Dunstan dancing with younger ladies. When there were no guests other than Dunstan present, Lady
Ramsburg
insisted that they practice their card playing, claiming she was sadly out of practice. More and more, Dunstan and Elizabeth were partners. As they sat across the table from each other, he would look at her, his blue eyes never leaving her face. He would ask her questions about her childhood, often encouraging her cousin or stepmother to tell him details she found too embarrassing to relate. Charles, who often chose to play chess with his stepfather, would lean over her shoulder to add his version, often more colorful than anyone else's. At times Elizabeth felt Dunstan knew more about her than she did herself.

Dunstan, not as open about his early years, told them about school and about his grandfather. "He has always reminded me of a hawk," he said once, his eyes unfocused and staring off into the distance. "He knows everything that is going on. No one can keep a secret from him." Elizabeth gave him a sharp look, fearing to ask just what he meant. "If I took a gun out without permission, he would be waiting for me when I returned," Dunstan laughed, rubbing his hip in remembrance. "It is because of a friend of his, Lord Seward, that I am involved in the war effort at all."

"But you said he would not let you buy a commission," Charles reminded him, his face scornful.

"No, but he found me something else to do. Not just make-work but a real job, something that is essential to the effort."

"How is it that you are able to spend so much time here, then?"
Elizabeth asked, not certain if she wanted to hear the answer.

"My job can be done almost anywhere. They send the packets to me, and I return them," Dunstan explained.

"You should see the post he receives," Charles said, laughing. He held up his hands to reveal the size of the stack. "And most of it is from matchmaking mamas like mine eager for his company."

"Charles!" his mother said indignantly. Elizabeth frowned at him; the idea of Dunstan's receiving invitations from mothers of marriageable daughters disturbed her. She tried to put it out of her mind but was unsuccessful.

"Do not 'Charles' me, Mama. Did you believe
I
would not notice the bevy of young ladies and their mothers who now arrive for morning calls and stay to luncheon?" He raised his eyebrows quizzically.

"How could
I
ignore my friends when they arrived in Brighton?" she asked, her blue eyes dancing. She smiled at Louisa and at Elizabeth as if asking them to agree with her. "And if their daughters happen to be with them
... ?"
Her voice trailed off artistically.

"If you do not want to see my back, Mama, have done," Charles said; for once his face was serious. Lady
Ramsburg
just laughed, but she took the message to heart. She did not intend to lose the company of her son again. "What I would give to have my closest relative my grandfather!" Charles said theatrically, bending down to give his mother a kiss to soften the blow. "You are lucky, Dunstan."

"I do not find your mother much different from my grandfather," Dunstan said with a smile, "He
matchmakes
as often."

"I told you that
I
was not unique, my son," his mother said, putting on her hurt look. She dabbed her eyes with a tiny scrap of lace and then ruined the effect by looking under her lashes to see if they were appreciating her performance. All those at the table at the time burst into laughter.

After that evening, Elizabeth lost her reserve with Dunstan. She laughed with him as she did her officer friends, accepted him as a partner for dances, and walked with him in the garden. Not by word or deed did he reveal his continued interest in her.

Uncertain about his attitude toward her, her interest increased. When he did not escort them to their evening entertainment, Elizabeth unconsciously searched for him, restless and unable to truly enjoy herself. When he walked in, she would smile at her partner and relax.

To her surprise, Elizabeth discovered that her popularity did not wane when the other ladies arrived from town. In fact, her coterie grew. From the first moment that she arrived, her hand was claimed for every dance. In spite of the heady popularity she enjoyed, Elizabeth was prudent. No one received more than his share of dances. But she always found room to include Dunstan's name on her program.

"Go away, Lord Dunstan," Lord Hathaway said one evening. "Miss
Beckworth
says she has no more dances free. If you disappear, then I will have yours."

Elizabeth giggled, sending waves of pleasure through Dunstan.
"I
am desolated to have to refuse you, my lord. But I want those dances myself," Dunstan said. He took her program and looked through it carefully. "But the major has two also. Shall we award you one of his?"

"And have
me
on duty forever? No, sir, I will bear this cruelty, sweet temptress." He bowed low over Elizabeth's hand, clasping it for a moment longer than he should have. He turned to Dunstan. "You, sir, are an unfeeling brute." His
posturings
finished, Lord Hathaway asked, "Do you join me tomorrow for luncheon, Lord Dunstan?"

"With pleasure, sir."
Having recognized that most of the officers in Elizabeth's entourage were only interested in light flirtations, Dunstan had been able to greet them as friends, escaping to their quarters when he had grown despondent. Elizabeth, feeling rather left out, tapped her foot, reminding him of the dance. He smiled and presented his arm. "Shall we dance?" he asked, his smile telling her how much he admired her. She was dressed in sea green that evening, the color of her dress reflected in her eyes. The dress had a split skirt, revealing the elaborate lacework on her undergarment, and the lacework was repeated at the neckline of the low bodice. As he led her onto the floor, Dunstan could not tear his eyes from hers, following her even when the pattern separated them. When her next partner claimed her, Elizabeth could still feel Dunstan's eyes on her, following her through the dance.

He returned to her side later that evening for the supper dance. As soon as the music had ended, he led her to the edge of the dance floor, watching her as she fanned herself with the ivory fan she carried. The evening was unusually warm. And because someone had started the rumor that the Prince of Wales had arrived in Brighton that evening and might honor the ball with his presence, the doors and windows to the room were carefully closed because everyone knew his fear of the night air. Elizabeth glanced longingly at the doors onto the terrace. Dunstan, realizing her thoughts, glanced back at the other guests waiting to enter the supper room.

"Your mother has promised to keep us a place at her table," Dunstan said softly. "Shall we walk on the terrace until the first crush is finished?"

Elizabeth looked at the crowd of people waiting to enter the next room and back at the doors longingly. "Someone will see us," she whispered.

"Not if we slip through these doors." He opened the terrace door just a crack, letting a hint of breeze touch her. "I am certain there are others outside as well. And we will not be gone long."

Elizabeth glanced around the room, but everyone else was laughing and chattering, waiting to enter the supper room. Once more a faint breeze ruffled her skirt. She slipped through the door, and Dunstan followed. He slipped her hand through his arm and put his own over it protectively. As it usually did, the slightest touch of his hand made her heart beat faster. They walked to the end of the terrace in silence, enjoying the cloudless night with its myriad stars. The breeze, slightly stronger now, molded her dress about her, reminding Dunstan of the glimpse of her he had had when he awoke that morning months earlier.