“Shall I call Clayton and have him draw you a bath? You need one.”
“Not yet. I have only just woken up.” He needed time to digest everything.
After a moment of thinking and obsessing, Anthony decided that there was only one course of action left to him.
“ I want to win her back.”
“You what?”
“I want to win her back. She is the only one whom I love, Felton. She has made a mistake and will soon realise it. Wasn't it her wild nature that had attracted me to her? The fact that I cannot pin her down even for a second. She has been a challenge for me, a challenge that I love with all of my heart. She is confused. She will come to her sense soon enough. However, I need to figure out a way to win her back.”
Felton stared at him, his expression incredulous. "Have you gone barking mad? Win her back? Do you hear yourself?"
“Loud and clear. This is the first time I have been sure about something since she rejected me.”
Felton stood up and started to pace the room, his movements tense and agitated.
"You have gone barking mad, that is what has happened. Did you knock your head? That must be it because you have certainly lost your mind."
Anthony stood up, swaying ever so slightly. “I am not crazy, I am a determined man. You must first hear what I have to say before you judge me.”
“Will you be speaking the same hogwash that I have just heard?”
“If you would just give me a moment and listen to me, perhaps then you will not see it as hogwash.”
Felton shook his head, but he returned to his seat. Anthony could see that his friend was not impressed with his wish to win Diana back, but he was sure that it was the only way. Perhaps she does not believe that I am committed enough.
“What ludicrous plan have you concocted in that foolish brain?”
“Well, I do not have a plan yet, but if you expect me to leave this room, you have to promise that you will assist me in winning Diana back.”
“This is an emotional suicide mission, Anthony. There is no justification for what you want to do. The woman hurt you, she humiliated and rejected you, is that not enough?”
“She is confused. She will come around eventually.”
Felton just shook his head. “You need to forget about Diana Lambert. Forget about her and get on with your life. Life is too short to spend it running after people who do not love you.”
“But she does love me, Felton, she does. She just needs to realise it and accept it.”
Felton got up again, determination clear on his aristocratic face. “I propose a solution.”
“If it is to assist me with winning Diana back, then I agree.”
"Just listen to what I have to say. What do you say to your servants packing your trunk and having you accompany me to the London season?"
“The London season? Whatever for? I do not understand.”
Anthony had no desire to be watched by young women all looking for a suitor. He had been forced to attend more times than he cared to count, and each and every time he had come away with the same opinion: women were dull, simpering fools without a thought in their heads. Anthony did not want a woman without a mind of her own. That was why he had been attracted to Diana. She did what she wanted to, went where she wanted to and said what she wanted to, all with a charm that surpassed any other he had so far seen in a woman. Diana was simply perfect. Well, almost.
"Many young, beautiful women would love to marry you. You need only look and see if any of them catch your fancy. I am sure you will find a woman more suited to you.”
“I highly doubt that. Every season that I have been to has been disappointing.”
“At least you can dance and flirt with them. That should take your mind off your obsession with Diana.”
“And you? What will you be doing for the London season?”
“The same as you – dancing and flirting. I hear that the pickings for this year are lovely indeed.”
“I do not know...”
“But if you do not at least try, how will you know? You might find a nice, pretty wife who will take Diana's place in your heart and make you forget about her. It is possible.”
“But highly unlikely. Diana has no equal.”
“I beg to differ. Diana is a beautiful woman, but there are others who are far more beautiful and intelligent than her.”
“None of them is Diana.”
"That is the point, Anthony. You do not need another Diana in your life. Look at what she has done to you already. Why would you want to repeat this? You know, I am exhausted from discussing this matter over and over again with you. You are coming with me, and that is final."
Felton moved to the door, sticking his head around it. “Clayton!” he shouted.
“What are you doing?” Anthony demanded.
Clayton appeared less than a minute later, hardly out of breath.
“Yes, Sir Nicholson?”
"Please prepare Lord Bedford's trunk – we are going to the London season."
"No, we are not. I have not agreed to this, Felton. Clayton, do not touch my trunk."
His steward looked at him, torn between listening to his master or Felton.
"Lord Bedford," he said. "If you would permit me to talk?"
“Yes, yes. Go ahead.”
“Thank you. I truly believe it good for you to attend the London season. Perhaps you may not find a wife, but you will not be wallowing in your chambers as you have been doing so.”
Had his steward just told him that he was wallowing? He was right, servant or no. He knew that Clayton just wanted the best for him. Always had.
"Thank you for your advice, Clayton, but I am perfectly happy as I am."
Both Felton and Clayton raised their eyebrows, regarding him with disbelief.
“Do as I say, Clayton,” Felton said. “I guarantee you that the baron will be accompanying me to the London season.”
"Excellent, Sir Nicholson." Clayton took his leave, bowing before he left.
“You had no right to do that, Felton.”
“As a friend who sticks closer than any brother, I believe that I have every right.”
In defiance, Anthony crawled into bed, adjusted his pillow, and closed his eyes. He heard the sound of a water jug full of water being filled and footsteps coming towards him. He opened his eyes to see Anthony with the jug suspended in the air, ready to douse him good and proper.
“You would not dare to empty the contents of that jug onto me.”
“I certainly would and probably will unless you get yourself out of this room. I shall drag you kicking and yelling if I have to.”
Anthony could see that his friend meant it. I do not fancy being wet in this manner. But neither will I allow myself to be bullied into doing something that I am not prepared to do.
“Wet me if you will, but I prefer to remain in this bed and figure out a way to get my Diana back.”
“I cannot stand this wallowing. Where is your self-respect? I shall not wet this bed out of respect to those who will have to clean up the mess, but I shall not leave this house without you.”
Felton returned the jug to its place and came back, before lunging at him and pulling him by the legs.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“Getting you out of bed. What does it look like I am doing?”
Felton seemed to be enjoying this if anything was to go by his amused expression. Anthony was half off the bed by the time he called a truce.
“All right! All right! I'll go, just stop manhandling me!”
Felton let him go, laughing. “That was hardly manhandling, but I am glad that you have come to your senses. We leave tomorrow.”
“Oh, what great joy.”
"Your sarcasm is a refreshing change from your self-pity."
Anthony crawled back onto the bed, feeling somewhat dizzy. “You are quite a meddlesome friend, do you know that?”
“I prefer the term 'concerned', but
I shall let it slide this one time. You even sound more like yourself.”
“I am glad that I have pleased you, master.”
Felton laughed. “Master, I quite like the sound of that.”
“Well, do not get too used to it. Now, get out of my room and let me rest.”
"After you have bathed and eaten, in that order. No one wants a ripe-smelling baron around them, no matter how wealthy he is."
Anthony covered his eyes with the back of his hand, feeling the dull throb of his headache.
"Do me a favour and ask Mrs Hubbard to concoct that foul smelling drink for my state? I need to get this alcohol out of my system. I am going to need my wits about me, especially with you attempting to run my life."
“You should be grateful that you have me as a friend instead of complaining. I shall organise your bath.”
Anthony lifted his hand as his friend left the room, watching him pick his way through whatever was on the floor. I am grateful to call you my friend. In fact, he was beyond grateful.
It looked as though he was going to the season after all.
Chapter 4
Elizabeth sat by the pianoforte, hands suspended above the keys. She was troubled, but she could not understand why.
“I should just play something, perhaps the feeling will melt away with the flow of the music,” she said to herself.
Her index finger pressed down on the key, producing a high note. She released it, alarmed that no music came to mind.
“What has happened to me?”
She tried again, randomly pressing a key in the hopes that a melody would rise up within her and transfer into the instrument. Nothing.
“Rather than produce something from memory, I should look at a music sheet.”
She looked through several sheets, trying to find one that matched her current mood. She settled on a recent piece, one that she had copied from a neighbour. As she played, she heard herself hit a few false notes. Elizabeth was not accustomed to that happening. Perhaps a note or two, yes, but not so many that she had to pull her hands away from the pianoforte in horror.
“What has happened to me? This is not like me!”
She got up and walked away, her brow creased with worry. Something is wrong, she thought. I can sense it. The door opened to reveal her sister walking in while biting into an apple. Elizabeth did not say a word to her but continued to pace up and down the room, her hands stiff with tension.
“You seem to be in high fidgets, Elizabeth. I am not used to seeing you in this manner. Has something happened?”
Elizabeth stopped, turning to Cecilia. “I do not know, but I have the strangest feeling that all is not well.”
“That is a strange feeling to have indeed. I, on the other hand, am in high spirits. Percy has been to see Papa.”
Elizabeth had noticed a rider upon a horse in the distance, but she had paid him no mind. That must have been Percy.
“What could he possibly want with Papa so early in the day? We have only just had our first meal.”
“We shall just have to see. I expect that whatever they spoke about will soon change my life.” Cecilia had a smug look on her face, a look that did not sit well with her sister.
“You clearly know something, Ceci. I would prefer it if you would tell me now rather than find out about it later.”
Cecilia took another bite of her apple, taking her time to chew it before swallowing it. She is doing this on purpose. Sometimes I wonder how we could have come from the same womb and parents when we are so different.
“Stop badgering me, Elizabeth. I am sure that Papa will speak to us when he sees fit to. Why do you not play something? I heard you playing as I came in and it sounded terrible. You are losing your touch.”
Elizabeth was offended. She tried not to be, but her sister's words hit her hard.
“I am merely having a bad day. We all get those at times – it is perfectly natural.”
Cecilia shrugged her shoulders. “If you say so.”
Her sister took a seat, but she did not sit back and relax. Elizabeth could see that her sister appeared to be waiting for something to happen, almost as if she were biding her time. Then it hit her. What if what Cecilia expected to happen was coming to pass? What if Percy had come to ask their father for Cecilia's hand in marriage? The thought had her taking a seat as well, her body feeling numb. What will her betrothal mean for me? Not a minute had passed when a servant entered the room, informing them that their father requested their immediate presence in the parlour.
“It is about time,” Cecilia commented. “Percy has been gone for quite some minutes. I was beginning to think that Papa would never call me. Although I do not know why he is requesting that you come as well. Surely he should talk to me before announcing anything to anyone else?”
Elizabeth stood up and wordlessly left the room, Cecilia coming up behind her.
“What in heaven’s name is the matter with you? You are walking about as though you are the living dead!”
“I have nothing to say, Cecilia. I wish to go to Papa, hear what he will say, and return to my music.”
If Cecilia is to be married, why do I feel as though all is lost? I am not the one getting married, surely I should be happy for her? But Elizabeth could not shake off the feeling of dread that sat upon her like a dense storm cloud. At any minute the cloud was sure to burst and rain down its ill tidings.
Cecilia sniffed. “If you are going to act like an uptight maiden on her wedding night –”
“Cecilia!”
Her sister looked at her defiantly, hands on hips. "Yes, I said it! I am not a child anymore, although everyone seems to forget it. I am a grown woman who knows her mind. I may not be book smart, but I shall be the one getting married while you will be alone with your music. You had best start practising because you are losing your touch."
Cecilia stomped away, back stiff with annoyance. That had been the first time Elizabeth had ever heard her sister utter such vile words. She evidently did not get it from home – not even Mama speaks in that manner. It must be her group of friends. Knowing that her father appreciated and expected punctuality, she hurried after her sister, reaching her just as she entered the parlour. Their father motioned for them to come in and take a seat, waiting for them to be settled before launching into the reason behind his summons.
"I have called you both in here today due to a serious matter, one that must be resolved before we can move forward."
Elizabeth waited with bated breath, her insides knotted painfully. Why does he not just say it instead of increasing tension? She gave a side glance at her sister, who did not appear tense. In fact, she seemed quite certain of what Papa was about to say.
Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection Page 33
