To Catch the Candid Earl: Regency Historical Romance

by Eleanor Keating

  Lucy resumed cutting the flowers, while butterflies and winged insects touched down on the bushes, flitting upwards, and around the surrounding plants on the hedge. But there was a sense of emptiness following her declaration. She didn't feel as assured as she usually felt, nor her dreams seem as powerful as usual. There was no one else to blame for this but a certain tweed-wearing solicitor, with a confusing disposition, who unsettled her greatly without too much effort.

  Chapter Fourteen

  On the morning of the dinner, Lucy stood in Lady Agnes's bedchamber, examining the fine, intricate stitching which had been done on the deep purple gown, decorated with woven gold trimming, for the Lady. It was brilliant enough to hide the vast amount of weight the dear woman had lost over the past months, and Lucy was appreciative of the modiste's efforts and dedication, especially at such short notice. It wouldn't prevent the gossiping that was bound to happen—the story of her Ladyship's descent into prolonged states of ill health, followed by partial recoveries, had been speculated upon often in drawing rooms and assemblies, but the flattering, big gown was going to lessen the nature of the gossips.

  Everyone would be drawn to the attire's workmanship, rather than her Ladyship's pallor or her sunken cheeks.

  "Dear girl, do you think Lady Manson will make an appearance? I know we sent an invitation, but she completely forgets about things of that nature without a constant reminder or a daily planner."

  Lucy nodded in agreement. "It's possible she wrote about it in her pocketbook, and if that is the case, then I expect her along with everybody else."

  Lucy had learnt the habit of keeping a pocketbook from Lady Abigail Manson, the second, and exceptionally different, of the Manson sisters.

  The rest of the day passed in a busy blur with Lady Agnes ensconced in bed, and resting to gather enough energy for the evening ahead. At the same time, Lucy read to her, brought her broth from the kitchen, and spent as much time as possible watching the preparations of the cook, housekeeper, parlor maids, and footmen for the evening to come.

  It was all exciting for Lucy because secretly she saw it as a way to learn how an upper-class household was run, and how she could give orders when she'd have to organize dinner parties once she was finally married.

  Her previous experience of watching Lady Agnes entertain and manage the household, in between bouts of illness, had been quite enlightening, and Lucy had observed everything with a keen eye, shelving important details in her head.

  Before dinner, Lucy went to Lady Agnes' bedchamber and found her maid dressing her and laying out her jewels and accessories.

  While she assisted Lizbeth, Lucy noted the high color in Lady Agnes' cheeks, along with a vibrant, mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and couldn't resist a tease.

  "You look quite excited, milady. I think we should start planning for another dinner in the coming days, don't you think?"

  Lady Agnes giggled, shocking both Lucy and Lizbeth, who wore a goofy smile.

  "Lucy, child, don't tease me so. I can't deny how much I've missed all the carryings-on and tidbits of gossips always floating among the ton. As much as the scandal rags are revealing, they aren't as satisfying as seeing these things that firsthand."

  "No doubt you shall revel tonight, madam, and deserve every bit of it," Lucy complimented.

  "Oh, Lucy, you are so kind to me. I don't know what I did to deserve you, all these months, but I'm glad." Lady Agnes's eyes misted over as she turned to pat Lucy's hands.

  Lucy shook her head, feeling a clench of emotion.

  "I'm afraid you're wrong, Lady Agnes, because it is you who've shown me the utmost kindness. Accepting me, without finding faults in my mistake, but rather teaching me ways to better myself. You are truly a guardian angel, ma'am."

  Lucy returned to her own room where Caroline arranged her hair in her favorite one-sided sweep, and donned the fetching green muslin gown.

  Presently, Lucy and Lady Agnes descended to meet the guests.

  Sliding her hand down the smooth polished stair rail, and seeing the roses arranged near the doors in tall vases, Lucy thought, I can't wait to do this for myself. I can't wait to plan a dinner or a luncheon in my own house.

  The butler, Wilson, was ushering in their first guests, Lord and Lady Barlow.

  Lady Barlow, who was good friends with her ladyship, had been the first to accept the invitation letter, and from the look on the tall, graceful woman's face, she was genuinely happy to see Lucy's employer in good health.

  "Oh it's marvelous to see you looking so sprite, Agnes, and your gown is beautiful too," Lady Barlow commented with a smile.

  "Thank you, Odessa. You can't possibly fathom how excited I am to see you. You look divine as usual; I can see his lordship has been attentive in his ministrations."

  Lucy couldn't hold back a smile as Lady Barlow feigned shock, while her husband colored beside her, and spotting Lord Langford behind, bowed to Her Ladyship, before making a hasty escape.

  "You impetuous woman! You haven't changed one bit. Why, you almost had the man exploding into flames on the spot." Lady Barlow was laughing cheekily now.

  "The sick bed has been quite boring, you know. So I have had plenty of time to advance in her craft." Lady Agnes grinned like a Cheshire cat.

  Turning to Lucy, Lady Barlow said, "It's good to see you too, Miss Middleton. I trust this irascible woman hasn't been driving you crazy."

  Lucy blushed and turned to gaze adoringly at her employer. "Not at all, she's been an absolute delight, My Lady."

  "Oh bother! That just means she plans to take it all out on us today, Lord save us!"

  Lucy left the women laughing together, and headed to the dining room to take a look around once more. By the time she returned out to the front room, a good number of guests had arrived, including Lord Lancaster and Redmayne.

  Lucy took a deep breath, hoping she looked presentable, with not a hair out of place, as she went to stand by Lady Agnes who greeted and mingled with everyone.

  Her spirits were raised as she noted Lord Frederick Redmayne's eyes on her for a short while, until Lady Mary arrived with the viscount in tow.

  Lady Mary looked breathtakingly beautiful in a moss green gown, detailed with embroidery along the hem and bodice, and gazed at the viscount repetitively with a lovesick smile.

  Seeing them together brought a weird unhappy feeling to Lucy's body, and she wished for a second to walk over and reveal everything to the adoring girl.

  But that would have been foolhardy.

  Lady Mary might never believe her if she revealed the earl's cunning scheme, and would chalk it up to jealousy. With the earl nearby, scrutinizing and monitoring everything with a sharp, almost serpentine-like concentration, things could turn ugly very fast for Lucy.

  Soon, the butler came in to usher them all to dinner, and Lucy decided to ignore the couple and focus on attracting the attention of the other two bachelors. However, neither was seated near her, but rather by single women of their own class. Lucy felt mortified by the contrast between her own bare neck and ears, and those of the other ladies adorned in jewels. Still, she hoped that after dinner, when the men had smoked their cigars and drunk their port, and rejoined the ladies in the drawing room, there would be more chance for her to mingle and chat with the bachelors.

  However, throughout the course of the evening, Lucy had no opportunity to strike a conversation with the men, nor did they approach her, as she was almost perpetually confined to Lady Agnes's side. Redmayne played a duet with a woman, sitting—so Lucy thought—closer to her than was strictly necessary to play the pianoforte keys. With her heart sinking further, she watched as Lord Lancaster became engaged in speaking to another unmarried woman, who was using her fan in the coyest and diverting manner, reminding Lucy that she herself did not possess such an item. She was forced to divide her time between listening to the older women's bantering, society news, and gossip, and watching Viscount Hilgrove and Lady Mary as they appeared to be lost in convers
ation with each other.

  The sheer attentiveness on his face, and caring manner towards the girl, filled Lucy with such confusion, and wonderment at the extent people would go to deceive and worm their way into others' lives for purely selfish reasons.

  But aren't you doing the same? a voice taunted in her head. Aren't you lying and pretending to be someone you aren't at this moment just to snag a rich, titled man? A flush of guilt heated her chest and cheeks. What would Ma think of all this? she wondered miserably.

  "Miss Middleton, what could I pay you to leave this troublesome old woman, and come to be a companion to my own mother? She can be set in her ways, but she wouldn't shock you into gray hairs."

  Lucy was rescued from her introspection by Lord Sedgwick, who grinned in his usual rakish manner. He looked dashing in charcoal black breeches, and gray jacket, which made Lucy secretly bemoan his unavailability to the womenfolk anymore.

  "Well, it's the character of the woman I enjoy, and gray hairs can well be the future fashion; who knows?" she replied with a smile, gazing at him fondly.

  "Well, you may have something there, Miss Middleton. With the constant advancement of fashionable enterprises and outlook, I won't be at all surprised as to that development," Lord Sedgwick rejoined with a thoughtful smile.

  Lucy rejoined, "I believe congratulations are in order, My Lord. I read about your engagement to Miss Wilburne."

  Lord Sedgwick's smile grew into a full grin. "Well, let me tell you that it wasn't a small hurdle to scale, and my beloved is a tougher nut to crack than others actually believe."

  Lucy didn't doubt that for a moment. Miss Olivia might be low on the peerage rank as the daughter of a baron, but she was fierce, and possessed a strong sense of herself; anyone in their right mind would be a fool to underestimate her.

  "I think she is a saint to put up with you, Lord Sedgwick." Lucy gave her honest opinion which got the man erupting in laughter before whispering to her, "I think she likes the fact that I shock her. I believe she would be bored to death if she ended up with anyone else, or much less alone."

  The unbelievable arrogance of his words was so funny that Lucy couldn't resist laughing, just as Lady Agnes approached them.

  "Hope you aren't trying to charm and entice my companion barely a month after your engagement, Lord Sedgwick?" the older woman asked in mock consternation. "You are rakish to the bones and that poor girl is going to have an awful lot to deal with."

  Lord Sedgwick's face was a picture of hurt. "You wound me, Lady Agnes. All of you do, when in actual sense, I am the one who needs your empathy because my fiancé is a cruel taskmaster of the highest level."

  "Which you no doubt deserve, for all of your philandering and misdemeanors, young man."

  "There is no justice in the world." Lord Sedgwick placed his hand on his chest, feigning heartbreak. "I need a glass of sherry to ease this pain. Excuse me, ladies." He bowed and left them laughing uncontrollably.

  "I'm glad to see you are having a good time, My Lady. I have never seen you so bright, and I propose we do this as often as we can." Lucy turned to her employer who looked amazing for a sick woman, with color and sprightliness.

  Lady Agnes smiled warmly and said with a small laugh, "I wouldn't want to test my nephew's patience by making it too frequent, my dear. Just look at him over there with that practiced smile that inches towards a snarl as the time passes."

  Lucy followed her ladyship's gaze to the earl who leaned by a pillar across the general drawing room, paying scant attention to what Lord Barlow was saying as he swirled a glass of sherry. The look on his face could best be described as a polite pinch, and Lucy imagined he couldn't wait for everyone to be gone.

  "It doesn't matter, My Lady. You are having an entertaining time, and that makes me happy. We can suffer through the earl's discomforting glares a few short times in a month, can't we?"

  Lady Agnes grinned cheekily. "I'm sure we can. I hope you're having a pleasant time too?"

  Lucy thought dispiritedly, Everything I was expecting to happen really hasn't, and the men whom I've gone to a lot of effort to attract, haven't paid any attention to me, as always. But she replied to the dear older woman with a smile. "Yes, I'm having a good time. I'm just glad everything turned out well, and you're happy, my lady. That is the only important thing."

  Satisfied with her answer, Lady Agnes patted her hand with a beaming smile and left to speak with Lady Cornelia Haversham.

  Faced with a roomful of guests in their finery, all chatting about their balls and engagements, their racehorses and foxhounds, and plans for the London season, Lucy's face fell. The disappointment she felt in the evening weighed heavily on her.

  I can never hope to fit into this society. It was foolish of me to dream of it. But if I let that dream go, must I return to poverty, darning holes in stockings by candlelight? To washing other people's dirty garments?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lucy sat, trying to concentrate on an open book on her lap, but it was a futile effort. She couldn't make sense of the literary work and it had nothing to do with the prowess of the writer, but with the deep unhappiness in her heart.

  Although dinner last night had been exceptionally lovely, and everything else had gone well, none of her desires had gone the way she'd hoped and intended at all.

  Her hope of attracting the younger, unmarried gentlemen who'd been in attendance had been flimsy and naïve; the events of the evening had demolished it.

  It had disheartened her completely and left her tossing and turning unhappily in bed all night long.

  Lucy had initially tried to blame this failure on her slightly unfashionable clothing. Still, she had been quickly disabused of that notion, because Lord Lancaster had been quite enamored Lady Abigail Manson. The sweet-natured, straitlaced woman hadn't been wearing any impressive clothing, rather a simple, powder blue muslin gown with a flower-trimmed hem.

  Lord Redmayne, on the other hand, had focused all his attention on Lady Vivienne Grayson, the shy bookish daughter of the Graysons; and when he wasn't hanging on to every word she spoke, he was a member of the Lady Mary adoration club, and sought her out, despite her clinging to Viscount Hilgrove.

  That had also been another sour note in Lucy's evening. Watching Lady Mary and the viscount, after everything she'd learnt from Edmund, made her sick to her stomach, and the fact that she couldn't do anything about it, left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  The evening had revealed that the viscount was not just a smooth liar, but an accomplished actor too; and he'd played the role of doting suitor to the letter, while the earl had looked on with something akin to amusement in his eyes.

  Sickening!

  Lucy turned a page and stared at the following one, her mind still focused solely on the dinner party of the previous evening.

  If Lucy hadn't known what she did, she would have believed Viscount Hilgrove to be deeply in love with Lady Mary.

  While the men had retired with their port, Lucy had been forced to listen to Lady Mary extolling the viscount's many virtues, and had felt sorry for the poor girl who didn't know what she was in for.

  It hadn't taken long for Lucy to grow weary of the entire evening, and she had been beyond glad when it gradually drew to an end.

  Contrary to what she'd told Edmund, she planned to do something about the viscount and Lady Mary's situation. She simply couldn't let it just happen. There was no way she could live with herself if she allowed the viscount to prey on Lady Mary and make her a fallen woman, as his actions were bound to do. In the village, she had seen what a ruined reputation could do; remembered a neighbor girl reduced to loneliness and poverty, finally ending in the workhouse with her infant child born out of wedlock. Old before her time, the girl's lined face had sent chills through Lucy when they crossed paths at the horrible establishment, and fueled her determination to save herself from returning to such a life.

  She had no plans, but she was going to think of something helpful to do, which wouldn'
t compromise her at the same time.

  Edmund …

  The man had stolen into her mind at the latter end of the past evening, and throughout the night, while she struggled to deal with her second failure again.

  Edmund wanted her. Unlike the viscount, and the two lords at the dinner.

  Kind, sweet, reserved Edmund had declared his interest in her, right before leaving hurriedly; probably worried he'd offended her, and overstepped.

  Why couldn't he be someone of greater importance, rather than a mere solicitor?

  Why did the one who wanted her and made her feel strongly, be the wrong one for her?

  It was all vexing, especially because she felt the same way. Lucy was attracted to the man, and it didn't matter how much she tried to will it away, it was still there.

  Waxing annoyingly strong.

  I can't let this fester on. I have to find a way to kill this feeling or it will complicate everything. I cannot give up on my dreams now; I have come this far, and can almost feel it within my grasp. Surely, a gentleman's eye will fall upon me with admiration very soon!

  But the memory of her constant failure to attract a man of her taste came crashing over her, and she bit her lower lip in dejection, tossing the book onto a small wooden stool by the side of the velvet cushion she reclined on.

  A knock on the door at that exact moment had her scrambling up, her thought racing to the earl, but when she opened it, Edmund stood there. Relief flooded her body, along with something else. Something fierce, sharp and conscious.

  "Hello, Miss Lucy. I'm sorry, but it wasn't my intention to startle you. A maid told me that I'd find you here."

  His voice sounded sweet, and warm, just like an early evening breeze after an extremely sunny day, and Lucy found herself tongue-tied.

  "Miss Middleton?"

  Lucy blinked, berating herself for acting like a simpering schoolgirl, rather than a woman of four and twenty.