Lords to Be Enamored With: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  Cecilia frowned. “What do you mean by a plan? I do not understand what you are saying.”

  She realised then that her sister had a right to know about the plan. Her future with Percy was at stake, and it was her fault.

  “There was never a true courtship.”

  “Of course there was. What foolish words you speak, Eliza.”

  “Listen to me, Cecilia. Lord Cavendish asked to falsely court me so that he could move Diana to jealousy and have her return to him. In return, I would gain my freedom once he rejected me in favour of her and you would be married to Percy. Only, I have come to realise that by Diana returning earlier than anticipated, the plan has been ruined. Well, perhaps not for Anthony, but for you and I.”

  Cecilia shook her head furiously. “You lie! You say this merely to jest with me. Allow me to tell you that I do not see the humour in this, I do not see it at all.”

  Elizabeth looked sadly at her sister. “There is no lie in what I have said, Ceci. Why do you think that we are at home? Once Diana arrived, I knew that the false courtship had ended.”

  Cecilia simply stared at her as though she were not registering what had been said. As time ticked by, Elizabeth grew worried at her sister's lack of response. Ceci was one to always have something to say, even when not needed. But here she stood staring, saying nothing.

  “Ceci? Why have you not spoken?”

  Her sister blinked as if coming out of a long sleep before she fixed Elizabeth with a look that spoke volumes. “Why? Why would you do such a thing? Have you no sense?”

  “It was my sole chance of avoiding matrimony, Ceci. It was supposed to work in our favour – you would be married, I would pursue my music, and Anthony would have Diana. How was I to know that she would return so quickly?”

  “Do you mean to tell me that you gambled with my happiness? Threw my future upon a chance that this ridiculous plan would work?”

  What could Elizabeth say? What her sister said was true enough. The plan had been a gamble, and while Anthony had won, both she and her sister had lost.

  “I did it to help us both. You knew that I did not wish to be married.”

  “But I did, Elizabeth. I am not like you. I wish to be married, to have a man who loves me and will take care of me. To share a life with and bear him children. I wished to be married.”

  "I know that Ceci, but –"

  “There is no but to this, Elizabeth. I asked you to be open-minded, to give the thought of marriage a chance. Music will not offer you companionship, music will not cherish you and love you. Music is not a person, do you not see that? You say that you love it, but you fail to understand that it cannot love you back. You make it what it is, you control it, but it will never reciprocate your affections. Why do you wish to be unhappy?”

  Unhappy? Elizabeth could not recall ever being unhappy in her life. Except for today.

  "Music makes me happy, Ceci. Why can you not see that? Because of you and Father, I was put into a situation that I wish that I was never a part of. All I ever wanted was to be left alone to pursue my passion for music, to fulfil my dream of becoming the greatest composer there ever lived. That dream was snatched from me due to your dreams and father's orders. Do you think that fair?"

  She watched as her sister walked to the window, her arms about herself. From there she spoke, but she did not face Elizabeth.

  "I am angry, not merely due to the fact that you have jeopardised my chances of being married, but also because I see that you are determined to be the cause of your own unhappiness. You have lived your life thus far for your music. But there will be a time when you will wake up and realise that it has all been for nought."

  It was then that Cecilia turned to face her, a sad expression upon her face.

  “Ceci –” Elizabeth began.

  Her sister held her hand up. “Please, I beg you to listen to me. I have seen how you have rejected suitor after suitor. Each young man that has come to our home have all expressed interest in you, but you have shown your disdain for them. I have watched as you consistently refused to open your heart to at least entertain the thought of matrimony, and it has been both sad and infuriating to see. There is nothing wrong with taking a chance and seeing where it might lead, Elizabeth. You need to stop being so stubborn and open your eyes to what is in front of you. To love and be loved is truly a wonderful thing.”

  Did she not do so without the intention of doing so? But where had that brought her? She opened her mouth to speak, but her sister raised her hand once again.

  “I have not finished,” she stated. “You may wish to deny this, but I have witnessed the love that has blossomed between you and Lord Cavendish. Any fool could see that you hold each other in deep affection. Have you noticed how he looks at you, and how you look at him? I have seen his eyes light up when you are near. I have seen the attention and care that he lavishes upon you – no man can pretend such things. He seldom leaves your side, even in the company of his friend. From the very first time that you both met, you have held conversations that have lasted for hours – what anyone can speak of for such great lengths of time is beyond me.”

  As her sister spoke, Elizabeth found that she could not deny her words. Anthony enjoyed her company, he had stated so. But if he loved her, why did he not reject Diana?

  “And he loves music just as you do,” Cecilia continued. “In fact, he plays the pianoforte beautifully. You are happy whenever you are around him, as there is always a smile upon your face. I do not think that I have heard you laugh as much as you have when you are with him. He laughs as well – constantly. You once said that if you ever were to find a man that fit your specifications of a suitor, that you would consider matrimony. Well, the man has been with you these past few weeks, but you have not recognised him for what he is. Your match.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes, her sister's words going straight to her heart. Anthony was everything that she could have wanted in a suitor, and more. She had never believed that such a man existed. But what was the use of her believing him to be the perfect suitor when he belonged to another?

  “Oh, Ceci. What does it matter that I love him? Because I do, with my whole being. But he can never be mine.”

  It felt as though a dam was released as a torrent of tears began to fall down her face. Verbalising her love for him had had a freeing effect on her, and now she felt that she could not stop her tears. Elizabeth turned away, trying to stop herself from crying, but she found that she could not. To her surprise, she felt her sister's slender arms surround her before she laid her head on her shoulders.

  “Love never fails, Eliza. Do not despair, for not all is lost. Lord Cavendish loves you, I am certain of it.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “You did not see his face, Ceci. He was happy to see Diana, truly happy. He has been with her six years – I cannot compete with that.”

  “It is not a matter of competition, Eliza. Our baron is merely confused. That is all.”

  Elizabeth did not think so, but she appreciated her sister's comfort. They may as well return home, as there was no reason to remain in London. But what would their father say? Perhaps she would still get married, but the suitor would be of Father's choosing. As she stood in her sister's arms, she imagined Anthony with Diana, laughing and talking as though nothing had changed. Nothing may have changed for them, but her life surely has. Would she be able to return to her former life? She considered it for a moment, arriving at the conclusion that her life would forever be touched by her brief time with Anthony.

  *

  Anthony was only half listening to the conversation flowing around him. He needed to know precisely what Felton had said to Elizabeth, and what she had told him. Anthony had not expected her to run off like that, and he was worried that she would never wish to speak to him again. Why was he worried? She was right in saying that he had what he wanted. But it did not feel right. Having her walk away did not sit well with him.

  “Anthony, I am beginning to thi
nk that you are not happy to see me,” Diana complained.

  He looked at her, seeing the pout on her face. This was the Diana he knew so well. “Of course, I am happy to see you. What would make you think otherwise?”

  Anthony felt her penetrating gaze all the way through to his bones. It was a hard look, one he had never enjoyed being on the receiving end of. He schooled his features as best he could, willing her not to question his distracted behaviour. If she believed he was thinking about Elizabeth, she would ensure that he paid for it. It could be a scornful gaze, disregarding his words before others, or even mocking him in supposed jest. Elizabeth never saw the need to do anything of the sort. His expression must have satisfied her because Diana’s radiant smile came quickly, catching her audience with its charm. All except for him. Anthony was surprised to find that her smile did not affect him as it used to.

  “Your mind is always high in the clouds. But I suppose that it is one of your traits that I shall have to put up with.”

  She laughed and turned to her friends, further regaling them with tales of her stay in Paris. Elizabeth never uttered a single negative word to him or about him, except where Diana was concerned. But Diana had always been like this, and he had loved her regardless. These thoughts continued to play in his mind until he spotted Felton making his way back to their companions. His face was grim. What could have transpired between Elizabeth and he? Anthony was both eager and anxious to hear what his friend had to say, but he knew it would not be wise to do so in the presence of Diana or any of their friends. He quickly stood up.

  “If you would please excuse me. There is a matter I wish to discuss with Felton.”

  Diana immediately turned to look at him, eyes narrowing. “I have only just returned. You would leave me?”

  “Only for a moment, Diana. Furthermore, I shall not go far.”

  “Can it not wait? What could be so important as to take yourself from my presence?”

  Anthony longed to squirm beneath her hard gaze, but he managed to control himself. He could not allow her to see that he was bothered. “Surely you would not begrudge me a minute or two?”

  Diana opened her mouth to speak, and he was sure that she would deny him, as she was accustomed to doing. But a male friend came to the rescue.

  “Diana, you are at present occupied with telling us of your travels with little input from Anthony. Surely it is not an issue to let him speak with Felton? I am sure that he has something important to discuss. He would not leave your side otherwise.”

  Diana's mouth was set in a grim line, her sharp nails tapping on her lap. Anthony could see that she was deep in thought, as though suspicious as to what he intended to talk about to his friend. He watched her smile, but it did not reach her eyes.

  “Of course, do go to Felton. I would not wish you to think that I am holding you captive.”

  That was all he needed to hear. He muttered a few words and took off, hoping to get to Felton before he reached the group. Anthony could feel rather than see her eyes on his back. Undeterred, he reached Felton well before he was within hearing distance of the group.

  “Felton, what did she say? How is she?”

  The words tumbled out of him with a hint of panic to them. Felton shook his head, his eyes full of disapproval.

  "I had truly believed that you had turned over a new leaf. That you were happy with Elizabeth. But it was all a lie. An elaborate ruse to win Diana back. What were you thinking?"

  Anthony frowned. “Did Elizabeth tell you that?”

  “She did not have to, I could see it for myself. Did you think you would be able to hide it from me? Yes, you fooled me at first. You looked genuinely happy with Elizabeth, and she with you. More so happy than you have ever been with Diana.”

  Prideful indignation rose up within him. “You cannot say that. I love Diana.”

  “You are a fool!” Felton hissed. “Diana is not the woman for you. Why can you not see that? Elizabeth was everything you needed in a woman. She complemented you well. But you are so blinded by obsessive feelings for Diana that you turned away the only woman who would have loved you unconditionally.”

  Anthony looked away. He did not need to hear this, not when he had Diana back. But had Elizabeth said that she loved him?

  “How do you know that she would have loved me unconditionally? She has what she has always wanted – independence. She does not love me."

  He watched his friend run his fingers through his hair, letting out a sound of frustration. “You are blind, my friend. Any man could have seen that you love each other. But you are both too stubborn to admit it. I know heartbreak when I see it, and Elizabeth had it.”

  Anthony's heart rose. Could Elizabeth love him? But what good would it do when he had Diana? “You did not see correctly. Elizabeth does not love me.”

  His friend looked at him sadly, shaking his head slowly. Disappointed. “You are a fool, Anthony. I hope that you have made the right choice.”

  Anthony was surprised when his friend turned and walked away. Felton's words had only served to further confuse him, which he did not need at that moment. His friend's words stayed with him as he returned to his companions, bringing him no peace. Had he done the right thing?

  Chapter 13

  Things were certainly not going as he thought they would. Anthony found himself struggling to focus on Diana's words, wishing he were talking to an auburn-haired beauty rather than the brunette before him. He looked around, willing for someone to come to his rescue and relieve him of the conversation of which Diana had a monopoly. But that was normal. Diana had always sought to be the main speaker, and he had humoured her, loving her voice. However, now her voice reminded him of a governess running her nails down a blackboard. Anthony sighed, changing his position. It seemed as though his rear end had been glued to the seat, for he could hardly leave it. Any attempt would have a glare tossed in his direction, forbidding his departure. Diana was keeping him close to her, more so than ever before, and he had not a clue as to why. Perhaps she did love him. However, the question was, did he love her?

  “Anthony, Catherine informed me that you had been to the opera recently.”

  He heard Diana's carefully formed question. It was not about going to the opera, but with whom.

  “Yes, some weeks ago.”

  He was not about to play into her hands. He knew Diana well enough to anticipate her moods and moves.

  “You do enjoy the opera.” She paused for but a moment, taking a dainty sip of her drink. “Did you go with anyone in particular?”

  Anthony could see that she was playing down her interest in the matter. He wondered what Catherine had told her.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. Miss Ramsbury accompanied me.”

  “Ah, the simpleton I met earlier this day. Dear Anthony, what could you have ever seen in her? She is miles different from me. If you were looking for a replacement, you could have at least looked to the women of our status.” She laughed. “Elizabeth was hardly proper.”

  “I was not looking for a replacement, Diana. I wanted someone who would enjoy the opera as much as I do.”

  This was a blatant lie. If noses did indeed grow with every lie spoken, his would be firmly in Scotland. He watched as Diana curled an escaped tendril about her finger, her mouth slightly pouted. Had she done this a few weeks ago, he would have been overcome by a fleshly reaction. But now it did nothing. If anything, it gave her the appearance of a petulant child intent on getting her own way.

  “Did you not miss me? If you truly love me, you would have been desperate for any reminder of me. A replacement seemed plausible.”

  Was there no end to her self-centred ways? He considered his thoughts, surprised at his change of heart concerning Diana. Anthony put a smile on his face, attempting to resort to his old tactics of coaxing her out of her moods.