Lord of the Storm: The Common Elements Romance Project (Regency Gothic Book 1)

by Arietta Richmond

  Grace was laughing, but soon observed that there wasn’t even a slight smile on Amelia’s face.

  “How can you say that about such honourable guests?”

  Amelia crossed her arms, looking rather annoyed with Grace, which startled her – Amelia was generally of a sunny disposition.

  “It simply never occurred to me to take a liking to people according to their precedence. They may be Dukes for all I care – it doesn’t make them less tedious in the least!”

  “Well, I think you should treat them with more respect. It is hardly becoming of a lady to wish her guests away.”

  “Since when do you care to consider how becoming one thing or another is? What is the matter with you?”

  Grace was beginning to feel quite aggravated with Amelia.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Amelia replied, abruptly changing her tone into a gentler whisper. “I am tired, that is all. I should be going to bed. I do apologise.”

  After delivering that statement, she stormed out of the chamber, leaving Grace alone and bewildered.

  ~~~~~

  Theodore took himself to bed in the chamber he had been offered for the night, discovering that Lord Bromley's valet had laid out his damp clothes to dry near the fire. By morning they would be quite wearable again. On the bed, a nightshirt awaited him, and he reflected on the generosity of the Wellford family. Lady Bromley had fussed over Lady Grace when they had returned from the outing, and, after hearing Lady Jane’s tales of Theodore’s heroism, had smiled at him fondly, and commended his actions.

  It had taken every scrap of control that he had for him to smile and thank her, whilst remembering that heated kiss in the ruins – a kiss which would have drawn a very different response from Lady Bromley had she known of it! But she had been gracious, and, in the end, he had enjoyed the evening, even allowing for Lady Violet’s rather obvious attention seeking.

  As he settled into the bed, his mind went back to the afternoon, and the remarkable degree to which Lady Grace’s painting resembled what had actually happened. It was almost as if she had been prescient.

  Regardless, he was glad of the whole set of events – glad that he’d had the opportunity to kiss her, to discover that she was not either appalled or repelled by his kiss, but had instead, responded in kind.

  Even though she was not for him, even though he knew that she would likely marry some boring person of importance like Chesterport, to have that kiss to remember was a thing he would always treasure.

  He drifted towards sleep, with the scene in the ruins replaying in his mind, and his last conscious thought was to wonder, again, just what she had said, immediately after the kiss.

  ~~~~~

  Amelia rushed into her room, and locked the door behind her. She barely managed to fling herself onto the bed before bursting into tears.

  Why was the world such a cruel place?

  Why was she foolish enough to have allowed herself to begin to care for a man who could never be hers? A man who was far above her status. A man who, whilst courteous to her, had shown no sign beyond that of any interest in her.

  A man who everyone around her seemed to expect to be destined for her best friend.

  It was utterly insupportable!

  Yet she had no choice but to go on. She did not want to argue with Grace, did not wish to spoil their friendship. Therefore, she would have to draw herself up, and face reality. He would be gone tomorrow anyway, and they could get back to their normal life.

  She was sure that she could forget him, if she tried hard enough.

  But tonight, just this once, she would let herself cry for the unfairness of it all.

  Chapter Seven

  During the following days, after the Marchioness and her family’s departure from Hesterton Park, Amelia became silent and pensive – a mood in which Grace had scarcely ever seen her friend before. Whenever she enquired about it, Amelia denied anything and feigned a return to her old self, but the façade would not last for long, and she would sink back into her melancholy. It was not until one morning, during breakfast, that Grace finally understood what was affecting her friend.

  Lady Bromley was sipping from her cup of tea and reading a letter with a broad smile on her face, as if she could barely manage to keep a piece of great news to herself. After she had set down the letter, she looked at Grace, positively beaming with joy – and a mild shiver of terror ran down Grace’s spine at the sight of it. Such enthusiasm from her mother rarely bode well.

  “My dear Grace, I have just received a letter from the Marchioness of Chesterport! You have made quite an impression upon her son Max, and her words, although veiled, have led me to believe that a proposition of sorts is quite inevitable.”

  Grace froze, clutching her fork.

  “A – proposition?” she managed to mumble.

  “A proposal, my dear! Will that not be grand?”

  Grace gulped, and carefully placed her fork on her plate. She could not, at that point, bring herself to meet her mother’s eyes. Instead, she turned to Amelia, who was staring down at her plate with utmost intent.

  Amelia obviously wanted to feign being caught in her own thoughts, but her vigorous trembling indicated that the situation was quite the contrary – Amelia was aware of every word said around her, and rather intensely affected by those words. And then it dawned on Grace that perhaps Amelia had taken a liking to tedious Max! Surely, nothing else could explain the intensity of her reaction to Lady Bromley’s declaration.

  All at once, all of the pieces fell together in Grace’s mind, and she immediately understood Amelia’s erratic behaviour since the departure of the guests.

  Could it be so? That a man who seemed so insufferable to her could so easily become the focus of her friend’s affections? Even though she shared so many aspects of character and temperament with Amelia, could they be so very different in this way? Could Amelia truly feel fondness, or even love, for such a man?

  Grace was silent for a while, but remembered her mother’s question and came back from her short reverie with a quick jerk of her head.

  “That is… wonderful…! Yes.” Grace replied, her voice trembling with shock.

  Returning to her plate, she realised that her appetite was absolutely gone – she considered excusing herself and leaving, but that would draw far too much attention to her person.

  Trapped, Grace watched Amelia arrange and rearrange her pieces of ham on her plate, determined not to look up at her.

  And then, Lady Bromley cleared her throat and began again, choosing to ignore the peculiar fashion in which both young ladies were now behaving.

  “And that is not all!” she declared with grandeur, as if presenting the attractions of a circus. “The Marchioness has also decided to throw a Ball! It will be her first since the tragic demise of her husband, two years ago, and it is destined to be as majestic as any she ever held before. Her home will be brimming with those who are the pinnacle of genteel society. She has invited us, and you too, Amelia,” Lady Bromley turned to Amelia with an expression which made it quite clear that she expected Amelia to be overcome by the Marchioness’ generosity, “and your brother, Theodore.”

  Amelia looked as pale as the tablecloth, and only managed a vague smile while whispering her gratitude.

  “Are you feeling quite alright, my dear?” Lady Bromley enquired, at last noticing Amelia’s paleness.

  “Oh, I believe I am quite faint.” Amelia replied, setting down her cutlery and rising from the table. “Please excuse me, I will take a breath of fresh air outside.”

  With these words, she was out the room as soon as politeness allowed her, if not a little faster.

  “I had best go to her, and ensure that she is well.”

  Grace leapt up, and went out before her mother could call her back.

  When she passed through the doorway and into the corridor, she could see Amelia positively running towards the rear of the house. Grace followed her through the kitchens and out into the garde
n, to the surprise of the servants.

  Outside, Amelia had turned towards the hedge maze, and Grace followed.

  It seemed that Amelia heard the footsteps pursuing her down the flagstone path, for she stopped in her tracks without turning. She took a deep breath which more resembled a sigh than anything, as Grace approached her.

  “My dear Amelia –” Grace began.

  “Oh, I am fine. Very much invigorated. Thank you.” Amelia spoke, before Grace could say any more, but her head was still turned away, as if to conceal tears. “I shall take a brief walk about the garden, alone, if you don’t mind. I shall be with you in the parlour shortly.”

  There was nothing to be done about it, for she could not force her company upon Amelia, so Grace let her friend walk away. Her own worries about what she had learned during breakfast plagued her, for she was no happier with Lady Bromley’s plans for her future than Amelia was. She was quite distraught that her only friend would not speak to her about her concerns, at such a time.

  Grace sighed, and would have wanted to take a turn about the gardens herself, but respected Amelia’s request and went instead to the parlour.

  Lady Bromley, although she had not shown any signs of understanding what the two girls were so discomposed by, had more sense than any would grant her. It seemed that she had decided to leave them alone, that they might deal with the news she had imparted at their leisure. She was not present in the parlour when Grace came in, but had left word to the servants to put out tea – the ever-calming beverage, capable of soothing even the most intense feelings of anxiety and unhappiness.

  Grace threw herself onto the fainting couch with a gesture fit for an audience – she was not feeling faint at all, but rather cross with the entire situation altogether.

  “Amelia is heartbroken – and in her suffering, instead of turning to her best friend, she has sent me away from my own garden, never thinking that I might be suffering too!” she thought, not sure if she should feel for her or be cross with her.

  But one matter was certain – she was not going to wait for Amelia to join her, at her convenience. In fact, Grace needed to distract herself from her own feelings, for the very idea that Max might propose, that her mother would expect her to marry such a dull and irritating man, horrified her. When she thought of marrying anyone, she imagined someone who would stir strong feelings in her, who might kiss her with passion… as Theodore had…

  Grace rose and went to the library, in order to appear occupied with some other, more important, matter. The truth was, of course, that once there she could not, no matter how she tried, concentrate enough to lose herself in any novel, for her mind was in turmoil. Hence, she found herself eagerly awaiting the moment when Amelia would join her, and they could talk.

  It was, therefore, rather a surprise when Amelia did not appear, but rather, a servant came in with a note from her instead.

  ~~~~~

  Amelia felt violently ill. She had, over the last week since their visitors’ departure, convinced herself that she could forget her attraction to the Marquess, could deal with the future with equanimity. It appeared that she could not.

  The cheerful mention by Lady Bromley of her expectation that Lord Chesterport would offer for Grace, had immediately rendered Amelia barely able to breathe. She could not bear it – the very idea that her closest friend might marry the man that she, Amelia, loved… It would mean that, for the rest of her life, she would be tortured by his presence, unless she wished to lose her friend as well.

  And Grace did not even care for him, as far as Amelia could tell. Yet, marriages without love were common amongst the ton – she did not think that Grace would refuse, if the Marquess did offer for her. Fleeing the breakfast room had seemed the only option, but when Grace had followed her, Amelia had realised the truth of it – she could not remain at Hesterton Park.

  Even if she was bound by courtesy to attend that Ball, to potentially see her friend and her dearest love’s betrothal announced, she could not cope with seeing the preparations, with hearing Grace and Lady Bromley talk of it, endlessly. She needed to remove, immediately, to Bellchurch Court, to separate herself from the pain of it, and attempt to accept the inevitable, no matter how much her heart broke.

  Decided on her course of action, she returned to her room, intending to quickly scribe a note to Grace. To her surprise, she found Lady Bromley waiting for her.

  “Amelia, my dear, I am so glad to see you looking better. You had me quite worried. But enough of that – I sought you out now because I believe that you should return to Bellchurch Court. You will need the coming days to prepare yourself for attending the Ball, as will Grace – there will be no time for anything else, and if you are here, you will both simply distract each other.”

  Amelia looked at her, her first impulse to protest. But she paused. Lady Bromley was, in a way, right – and had Amelia not just decided to remove herself from Hesterton Park anyway?

  In the end, it did not matter what Lady Bromley’s motives were, her wishes aligned with Amelia’s and so, she would simply agree.

  “I do believe that you are correct, Lady Bromley,” Lady Bromley looked rather startled at this immediate compliance, and had the situation been different, Amelia would have been hard pressed not to laugh at her expression, “I will pack immediately, if you could have the carriage readied?”

  “Of course dear girl, I will send a footman to the stables now. I’ll leave you to get on with your packing.”

  She turned and was gone, leaving Amelia standing, bemused, in a silent room.

  Within a half hour, she was packed and ready. The note she scribed to Grace was rather different from the one she had originally intended to write, but the purpose was the same.

  She handed it to a footman as she climbed into the waiting carriage.

  “Please deliver this to Lady Grace immediately.”

  “Yes Miss.”

  The footman bowed, and closed the carriage door – she watched him return to the house as the carriage moved off, and sighed. It was the end of a part of her life that she had treasured. After this, she was sure, nothing would ever be the same.

  Chapter Eight

  Grace opened the folded piece of paper as soon as the footman had left the room. Its contents only added to the churning turmoil of her thoughts.

  “My dear Grace,

  I regret that I must depart from Hesterton Park in this manner, and I hope that you will not be cross with me. Indeed, Lady Bromley is right in telling me that I must return home at once in order to ready myself for the Ball! Theodore and I will surely join you at Chesterport Grange in a few days.

  Your most devoted friend,

  Amelia”

  ‘She is positively enamoured of him, and obviously distraught! And my mother is attempting to prevent her telling me that…’ Grace thought, with surprise.

  ‘And I hold the key to her happiness – in part, at least – and yet she chooses to shy away from me, to believe my mother’s opinion of my future rather than asking me. She is convinced that I am to marry her secret love! Oh, if only you knew, my silly friend, that I can’t, couldn’t consider… how could I when I love…’

  Her heart beat frantically at the thought – she had never before allowed herself to conceive of her own feelings with such sincerity and clarity. Her mind stilled, then turmoil replaced it as she allowed her thoughts to finish that sentence ‘when I love Theodore’.

  Grace began nervously pacing around the room, unable to contain her feelings any longer. The gravity of the events which were about to unfold loomed about her as the dark clouds had loomed over the ruins of the Spectre’s Cloister in her painting – turning the image of a grand and illustrious Ball into a dark future of certain doom and unhappiness.

  There was nothing to be done about it. Grace desperately wanted to seek Amelia’s counsel – she felt that she could not think properly without her by her side. The time was short, as the party was set to depart early in the morning
of the very next day – Chesterport Grange was a long drive away, and Lady Bromley insisted that they should arrive early, no doubt to give Max ample time to walk about with her daughter, even though they would be staying there for a few days. How painful it would be for poor Amelia to see them!

  Grace stopped in the middle of the room and turned to the writing desk. She took a deep breath and sat in front of it, selecting a new piece of paper and sharpening her quill. Hardly knowing what she would write, she began – straining to preserve her beautiful penmanship under the shiver of anxiety which beset her.

  “Amelia,

  You will forgive me the directness of the words that follow. I do not know why you could not be sincere with me about the truth of your feelings – and I shall not be cross about it either.

  But I shall tell you mine.

  I hope it will come as no surprise to you that I am very much fond of your brother, Theodore, and even if my sympathies are utterly unrequited–”

  Grace paused, feeling her cheeks flaming up into a violent blush, and a knot of tears swelling in her throat.

  The very words she laid on paper wounded her, although she was sure it could not be so – not after that rather incendiary kiss in the ruins, as the rain had pounded down above them. Nevertheless, she went on.

  “– I shall never be able to accept any proposal of marriage made by another man. I shall even go against my mother, and against the entire world if I must, for no woman should be forced into a union she–”

  She wanted to say despises, but thought that the word might wound Amelia, who far from despised Max.

  “– into a union with a man she does not love.

  I need to speak to you, I should have told you all of the above and more, had you delayed your departure from Hesterton Park by but one hour. I am sure that is precisely the reason my dear mother was quick to usher you out – she is so certain that she knows the way towards the best outcome, that she knows our hearts better than we do, but make no mistake, she has not yet met the full hardness of my resolve. And I shall need you to be strong with me.