The Beauty

by Connolly, Rebecca

  Mrs. Ramsay turned and moved up the stairs, the footmen following behind with the trunks.

  “Margot,” Fellows grunted in his rumbly way. “Do relieve Miss Perkins of Miss Sheffield’s belongings. She is not a coat rack.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fellows,” the girl murmured as she sprang forward. She met Caroline’s eyes in apology. “I am ever so sorry, Miss Perkins. I ought to have stepped forward to indicate she give them to me, but…”

  Caroline waved off the apology and smiled, her cheeks coloring in embarrassment. “No need. Take Miss Sheffield’s things to her room,” she instructed quietly. “Air them properly. Then you and I will have tea together later.”

  “Miss Perkins,” Fellows boomed with some authority, though very polite, “is my lady’s companion, Mr. Sheffield, and her ladyship is quite pleased with her company.”

  “I am pleased to hear it.” Mr. Sheffield bowed to Caroline, prompting a responding curtsey from her. “Miss Perkins.”

  “Mr. Sheffield,” Caroline murmured, taking a few steps in his direction. “I trust your journey was not too tiresome.”

  The man smiled, revealing fine teeth, his fair eyes full of accompanying good humor. “Not too tiresome, Miss Perkins. I have been in London several weeks, and my sister came by post, much to her dismay. I met her at the coaching station, and we travelled here together.”

  “Oh.” Caroline could have kicked herself for being an idiotic ninny but managed to maintain her smile.

  Mr. Sheffield removed his hat and began to turn it in his hands. “Forgive my sister, Miss Perkins,” he murmured. “She means well. She has no idea what a companion does or does not do.”

  “Miss Perkins takes no offense, sir,” Fellows assured him, somehow managing to smile at Caroline while answering for her. “She is a very good sort, and we are all well assured that she will benefit greatly from Lady Ashby’s sponsorship in Society.”

  The gentleman looked at the butler in surprise, then back at Caroline with a new regard. “Sponsorship? Indeed, Miss Perkins?”

  Caroline lowered her eyes with a nod. “Indeed, sir. Lady Ashby is the cousin of my late mother, and she has seen fit to grant me her patronage after I finished school at Miss Bell’s. My father is in trade, you see, and in order that I might make a good match, Lady Ashby insists that I require her influence.”

  Oh, she had said too much, and would soon venture into rambling. She cast a quick look at Fellows, whose expression was kindness itself. Though the two of them had begun rather stonily, she had come to regard him as another sort of uncle, and one whom she could grow quite fond of.

  “My aunt is known for her good taste, Miss Perkins, and her wisdom in her patronage,” Mr. Sheffield assured her.

  Caroline looked up at him then and was surprised to find warmth and smile there. “She is excessively kind, sir. I am most grateful.”

  Mr. Sheffield nodded slowly. “And I shall be most grateful, Miss Perkins, if you would think of my sister with the same kindness and consideration as you have just done. She is young, four years my junior, and I fear without your good sense. I think you have a level head behind your obvious beauty, and both will serve you well in Society.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sheffield.” Caroline curtseyed again. “If you will excuse me, I will see to your aunt. She will be most anxious to greet you.”

  He bowed, still smiling. “Miss Perkins.”

  Caroline smiled at Fellows, then turned and moved as quickly as she could up the stairs while still appearing graceful. She felt like such a fool, so tongue-tied and silly. She had never seen a truly handsome man before, and Mr. Sheffield would undoubtedly be considered handsome. He would make a great many ladies happy during the Season, of that she was sure.

  And Miss Sheffield was so fine, and accomplished, she had already been told. It was no wonder she had thought Caroline a servant. Caroline had never been with fine people, apart from her friends, who did not act so fine, and she know not how to act still. Despite her training, despite her occasional outings, which were successes, she was still terribly ill at ease.

  These were people who would see her daily, quite often at that. She could likely manage the outings and tea gatherings; those were brief moments of pretend. But to be continually examined by people of quality? She could not bear such a thing. Lady Ashby had been intimidating from the start, but now she knew her, it was not so. And she knew Caroline’s faults, every single one. Caroline had no illusions of her position here, nor in life itself, but she could not bear to be seen as so low in the world when she was expected now to take part in it.

  The bell rang again, and Caroline paused at the landing, glancing down at the new arrival.

  A man with dark hair and a fine cut of clothing entered, sweeping his hat off at once. He shook hands with Mr. Sheffield and ran a hand through that dark hair, ruffling it just enough to remove the impression of his hat there.

  “Fellows, this is Mr. Debenham,” Mr. Sheffield was saying. “He is a great friend of mine, and I have invited him to call upon us at his leisure while we are here. I trust this will be no trouble?”

  “Of course not, sir.” Fellows took Mr. Debenham’s hat. “Welcome to Ashby House, sir.”

  “Thank you,” the low voice replied, the words soft spoken and barely reaching Caroline’s ears.

  Caroline shifted her weight to continue on, the floor beneath her creaking as she did so.

  Mr. Debenham looked up, his eyes landing on her immediately, and she froze as they did so.

  He was the handsomest man she had ever seen, though she only had Mr. Sheffield for comparison. Mr. Debenham had perfectly aligned features, more angular than Mr. Sheffield, but with enough smoothness to rival a marble sculpture. The color of his eyes was unclear from this distance, but she thought she saw a hint of green there. And his mouth…

  His eyes widened, and she felt something tighten in her chest. Her knees shook, her face flamed, and all she could do was stare at him. Gaping.

  Like an idiot.

  Caroline swallowed and wrenched herself away, striding carefully towards Lady Ashby’s parlor, her cheeks flaming beyond reason now.

  He was to call at his leisure, was he? How beneficial, then, that Caroline was to be so very occupied with Lady Ashby’s care.

  After she was sure that her ladyship was settled and at ease, ready for the company of her guests, Caroline would spend a great deal of time walking about the small garden of Ashby House.

  A great deal of time indeed.

  Chapter 4

  Whatever angels resided in heaven could not have been so glorious as the creature Will had seen on the landing above him at Ashby House.

  Two full days later, and he still could not get her out of his head.

  He hadn’t stayed at Ashby House long, not realizing that the Sheffields had only just arrived and not wishing to disturb Lady Ashby more than she had already been by their arrival. He hadn’t even seen Sheffield since then, and it was quite literally killing him inside to not find him and question him frantically about her.

  Perfection in every aspect, she had been, and he hadn’t heard her voice, seen her dance, or learned her name.

  The depth of her dark eyes, even across the distance between them, had unmanned him, and in the space of time their eyes had been connected, he had forgotten everything he had ever learned in his entire existence, including his own name.

  He’d seen a great many beauties in his time, and none of them had affected him like this. He’d thought himself beyond the sensibilities of the fools carried away on whims such as this, but he was full ensnared in this one.

  Every rationale had passed his mind in an attempt to rid him of the affliction. Whoever she was, she had been very simply dressed, which could easily mean she was one of the servants.

  She could be a heartless, cold, aloof woman without the manners to encourage any sort of connection.

  That would absolutely change things for him.

  She could be another relat
ion of Sheffield’s.

  Miss Sheffield would likely have him assassinated for pursuing anyone with whom she was related instead of herself. He could risk that. He was not afraid of her.

  There was a dozen more points that Will had concocted, and his rebuttal against each were equally pathetic and determined.

  He could only be grateful that he had garnered an invitation to dine at Ashby House this evening and prayed she would be there.

  She had to be there.

  Will was a reserved man, and he had no real powers of speech or persuasion, he knew full well. Perfect gentlemen did not have the same amount of charm as the imperfect ones, and he had yet to manage real sin or flaws to bring him down to a more interesting level.

  If the mystery woman were not at supper at Ashby House, he would mercilessly interrogate Sheffield until he knew all.

  Heavens above, what if Sheffield were in the same house with her? What if he wanted her? He would have complete access to her, to her confidence and her affections. He possessed charm and wit, both of which could easily sway a woman to liking him.

  Will’s hand formed a fist at his side as he rode to Ashby House now.

  Sheffield would pay for such a betrayal, unknowingly done or not.

  “Steady, old boy,” Will muttered to himself. It would not do to get himself worked up over something that had not happened yet. While that would be the sort of rash action that a less than perfect gentleman, or even a cad might engage in, he rather thought his foray into villainy ought to begin in a less dramatic manner than thrashing his best friend upon his hostess’s dining room table.

  Surely there were smaller ways in which he might tarnish himself.

  If he didn’t find his footing with this woman, he would likely find several ways, though perhaps not the ones he would wish to.

  Ashby House was soon before him, looking every inch the foreboding London townhouse he had taken it for the other day. There had been nothing cheery within its walls but the angel atop the stairs, and she alone was enough to send him in.

  His hat was taken at once upon his entry and he was shown into a sitting room that had a surprising number of people within, most of whom he did not know.

  The two he did know grinned in near identical manner.

  “Debenham!” Sheffield rose and came over to shake his hand as the others in the room also rose. “Come in, come in. So glad you could come!”

  Will looked at his friend wryly. “I wasn’t aware there was a party this evening, Sheffield.”

  “Nor was I,” Sheffield murmured to him, his smile forced. “Anna made some friends last night at an event and persuaded my aunt that all were her dear friends now. Lady Ashby is amenable to my sister’s desires, no matter how extreme.” He rolled his eyes very discreetly.

  “Deb!” Miss Sheffield called joyfully, striding over to him in a pale blue muslin that suited her eyes rather well.

  He steeled himself, smiled with all due politeness, and bowed in her direction. “Miss Sheffield, delightful to see you again.”

  She immediately looped her arm through his and tugged him towards the rest. “Come and meet my friends, Deb. You will love them all.”

  Will seriously doubted that, but he permitted himself to be introduced and paraded about like a pony for her entertainment. His mysterious and glorious angel was not among the gathering, and he felt rather inclined to leave after five minutes, seeing what company he was left with instead.

  The ladies were Miss Dawson, Miss Fairchild, and Miss Smythe, all fine and elegant, but simpering and silly, rather like Miss Sheffield herself. Miss Dawson was the most sensible, and the most plain, which he found tended to go hand in hand. She was cousins with one of the gentlemen, a Mr. Gates, who was very intelligent, lively, and quick-witted.

  Mr. Rhoades and Mr. Jacobs were cheerful and rambunctious, and quite loud. They seemed to be competing for the attentions of all the ladies, and Will could not tell if it was for sport or in earnest. He doubted even they knew.

  Sheffield did not say much among the gathering, therefore Will did not feel he had to either. He engaged when one of them included him in conversation, and did so with his usual politeness, but none of the topics interested him beyond the blandest possible.

  Gates tried to bring the conversation to something more inclusive to the entire group, but the ladies and other gentlemen tended towards the trivial.

  Will restrained a sigh of despair. Small talk before a meal had never been among his more enjoyable habits, and in company such as this, it was even less so. Even their hostess had not ventured into them, though he understood that she was not a healthy woman, and therefore might not be able to endure the social requirements before supper.

  Fortunate lady.

  “David,” Miss Sheffield suddenly said, interrupting everybody possible. “Where is Lady Ashby? I declare, whatever they have prepared for supper will soon grow cold and inedible.”

  “Not in my kitchens, I can assure you, my dear niece,” a stiff voice replied from the front of the room.

  Will turned and felt his heart seize up.

  She was there.

  Bearing the arm of the woman who had to be her hostess, his golden-haired goddess stood wrapped in a deep plum colored gown, hardly a hint of jewelry or finery adorning her further. She needed nothing else, and beside her ladyship, who bore several swaths of jewels herself, anything else would be outshone with ease.

  And nothing should outshine her.

  Sheffield rose and moved to his aunt with a warm smile. “Lady Ashby, allow me to introduce our guests to you.”

  She inclined her head with all the pride and gentility that befitted her, and Will found himself smiling. Lady Ashby was clearly not to be trifled with, sickly manner or not, and he liked that very much.

  When Sheffield had introduced them, he faced the room in general. “Everyone, this is Miss Perkins, the companion of my aunt, and a very great asset to her, I am sure.”

  Miss Perkins looked at Sheffield in surprise, though, Will was pleased to see, no hint of admiration, adoration, or romance. More as he expected she might a wayward brother.

  So much the better.

  Miss Sheffield rose in a huff, her skirts swishing. “Take Lady Ashby’s arm, David, and lead her to dinner. Miss Perkins is a slight creature and our aunt will be in danger on her arm.”

  Will turned to look at Miss Sheffield in surprise. He knew she was a ridiculous creature, but this was beyond even his expectation. To treat his aunt’s companion like this, to disparage her before her face without acknowledging her. And before company?

  No one deserved such treatment, servant or not.

  Sheffield took his aunt’s arm but speared his sister. “I think Miss Perkins has more strength than she appears, Anna. Our aunt is in excellent hands.”

  Will could have applauded that and would have done had Miss Sheffield not taken his arm again and tugged him behind her aunt and brother. The others followed suit, but there was an unequal number of men to women, so two of the ladies as well as Miss Perkins were left to come without escort.

  Miss Sheffield strode past Miss Perkins with a sniff, and Will glanced at the woman in concern, but she seemed completely unperturbed by the behavior.

  Had this been customary since their arrival?

  The dining room at Ashby House was finely arrayed, but not extensively so. Taste enough for her class without giving offense to any out of it. Yes, indeed, Lady Ashby was a character worth knowing, and a connection worth preserving.

  With or without her incandescent companion.

  Will situated Miss Sheffield in her seat, as was expected, then moved back to the wall to let the other ladies take their places as well.

  “Miss Perkins, do please sit yourself here by me,” Lady Ashby declared, patting the seat to her right. “I must insist on having you close. And Sheffield, to my left.”

  Perfect.

  With as much haste as was politely acceptable, Will moved to the seat beside
her, situating himself between her and Miss Dawes. It was undoubtedly his best chance for acceptable conversation. And with Sheffield across from them, there was sure to be a buffer as needed.

  Supper was served, and conversation began to bubble among the table. Will glanced at Miss Perkins in his periphery and found her to be entirely focused on her meal, only murmuring slightly when Lady Ashby inquired something of her.

  It was impossible to tell if this were due to her nature, her station, or the behavior of those around her.

  He had to find out.

  “How long have you been with Lady Ashby, Miss Perkins?” he inquired after swallowing a bite of potato.

  Her eyes flicked towards him, but nothing else moved. “A week, sir.”

  Her voice held none of the practiced primness he was used to, though he suspected her accent was practiced. Careful words in a natural tone, and something of an earthy nature in the sound.

  He liked it at once.

  “Ah,” he replied with a smile. “And how do you find London?”

  A corner of her pert lips curved and something in his abdomen tightened. She turned her face towards him, stealing his breath. “I find it as I have always found it, sir. I am London born and raised.”

  “Are you, indeed?” he asked with surprise. “And what part of London are you from?”

  She hesitated and her face tightened, which made him want to frown. What should she need to fear exposing by such a simple answer?

  Miss Sheffield giggled without any hint of warmth. “Miss Perkins is from the shipyards, Deb. Her father is a merchant. Imagine the son of an earl seated beside such a creature! What a laugh!”

  Her emphasis on the words were exactly as her behavior had been earlier, with derision and scorn, and Miss Perkins lowered her eyes.

  “A tradesman’s daughter?” Mr. Rhoades asked with a bit of interest. “Fancy that. How much are you worth, Miss Perkins? Must be a pretty penny to engage Lady Ashby’s attention.”