by Lucy Adams
A trifle frustrated, Edward let out a long breath of frustration and wondered if there was an easier way to go about this task. He could not think of anything other than returning to the street where he had first come upon the lady. That would not, however, give him the name of the lady who resided within, not unless he wished to rap loudly on the door and demand that he be told the names of all who lived there. Most likely, he would be thrown from the house! No, he could not even imagine doing such a thing.
Sighing heavily to himself, Edward heard the loud voice of one Lord Huckleby coming towards him. Groaning inwardly, he allowed his gaze to travel towards the gentleman, seeing him bowing to two ladies. The first had dark hair and the second had a cascading pile of reddish bronze curls running down her back. He could not easily make out their faces and found himself turning his eyes away from Lord Huckleby. He did not much care for the fellow, although he considered the man to be an acquaintance. The gentleman was loud and a little brash for Edward’s liking, as though he fully intended to make as much use of his title, fortune, and wit as he could. Every young lady of the ton was eager for his attentions, it seemed, and he was more than happy to share them. The way the beau monde hung onto his every word was deeply frustrating for Edward, thinking that Lord Huckleby was everything Edward despised about London society.
Turning his head, Edward fixed his gaze elsewhere and forced his mind back to his current task. He meant to find the young lady from that evening some days ago. That was all he need do. He did not need to consider Lord Huckleby nor his own dislike for the ton. All he needed to do was find her.
However, for whatever reason, Edward found himself almost desperate to glance back in that particular direction. He had no reason to do so, particularly when he disliked the fellow so, but perhaps it came from an urge to see what young ladies the man had caught this time, or perhaps a jealousy that Lord Huckleby could manage to garner so much attention without so much as batting an eye. Regardless, Edward turned his head to satisfy his own curiosity, only to see the redhaired young lady’s profile come into view.
Something jolted within him. Something that told him that this young lady was the one he was seeking.
Turn your head a little more, he whispered inwardly, urging her silently to turn around so that he might see her face. Show me whether or not I have found the answer to my searching.
He saw the other young lady say something to the redheaded one and, after a moment, she turned to face him.
Edward’s heart forgot how to beat. He stood there, frozen in place, staring into the face of one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever laid eyes on. It was, of course, the young lady he had seen that night, the young lady he had been forced to lay down on the doorstep and hurry away from, but he had not remembered her to be so overwhelmingly lovely. Her oval face was alive with interest, her eyes fixed on his – and Edward found himself longing to know what color her eyes were. Her lips were slightly parted, as though she was surprised by his gaze, and a faint bloom of color was rising in her cheeks.
He could barely breathe at the sight of her.
At least you know what you must do now, he told himself. You must discover her name, and no doubt, a good many gentlemen will wish to become acquainted with a beauty such as she.
The urge to go to her and to introduce himself – as improper as it was – overtook him, and it took some considerable effort for Edward to throw it aside. He could not do such a thing, he knew, and from her appearance, it did not seem as though she remembered him. That was good, he supposed, and whilst he knew that he should make every effort to remain distant from her, he found that his heart wished for quite the opposite.
A warning sounded in his mind as she turned a little more towards him. Knowing that he could not linger, Edward allowed himself one moment more before dropping his hands to his sides, a smile spreading across his face as he took her in. And then, without warning, he turned away and walked through the crowd, losing her from his sight.
Wandering through the crowd, Edward allowed himself to consider the beautiful redhaired young lady once more. She was quite extraordinarily beautiful and, given that he had witnessed her attempting to fight off the murderer that night, he knew that she had a good deal of strength and mettle within her.
“Quite the young lady,” he murmured to himself, still a little taken aback with the strength of his own reaction upon seeing her. The way his heart had quickened, the way his spirits had flung themselves to the stars was more than a little astonishing, since he had never experienced such a thing before.
“I am indeed a lucky fellow this evening.”
Edward frowned as the voice of Lord Huckleby came near to him as he continued to pick his way across the ballroom.
“You are not lucky, old boy; you are handsome, titled, and wealthy,” said one of Lord Huckleby’s companions. “Just whose attention have you captured this time?”
Edward slowed his steps and turned his head, seeing Lord Huckleby standing just to Edward’s left. He did not see Edward.
“I am to dance with Miss Titania Wells this evening,” he said, with a broad grin. “That delightful young lady caught my eye the moment I set foot in this place, and it has been my intention to seek her out for a dance this evening – and, you shall be glad to know that I have succeeded!”
His friend let out a bark of laughter. “As though such a thing could ever be in question!” he said, shaking his head. “She is quite delightful, I will concur with you there. See how the gentlemen of the ton seek her out?”
Lord Huckleby nodded, his smile fading somewhat. “The prettiest daughter of the late Marquess of Whitehaven is no small prize, I confess it,” he murmured, sending a flurry of anger down Edward’s spine – although quite why he felt that way, he did not know. “But I am certain that I have secured her interest.”
Edward stepped away, not needing to hear anything more. He had discovered the name of the young lady—and that was all he needed for now. He did not need to wonder why he felt so irate over Lord Huckleby’s words, nor did he need to question the gentleman’s motives. It was not as though he himself were seeking a bride! He had more than enough to keep him occupied without feeling the urge to secure a wife for himself. Yes, he was drawn to Miss Wells, and yes, she was markedly beautiful, but that was as far as he would allow his fascination to go. He could not let her continue to dog at his mind, not when he had Ravel to consider.
“Miss Wells,” he murmured to himself, the name rolling around his mouth for a moment. “Miss Titania Wells.” A sense of satisfaction crept over him as he made his way to the door. There was no need to linger here, not any longer. He had discovered the name of his lady—and, for the time being, that was all he needed to do. Finally, he could return home and take himself away from the society that he disliked so very much. This evening’s endeavors were over.
Chapter Four
“I hardly think you have anything to complain about, Titania.”
Titania stiffened. “I am not complaining, Dinah.”
Her cousin sniffed and looked away. “It sounds as though you are, Titania, and does the Bible not clearly tell us that we are meant to be grateful for all that we have been given?”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Titania drew in a steadying breath, so that she would not send a harsh jibe back to her cousin. She knew full well that Dinah was extremely pious and believed that Titania was wrong in almost everything that she did. This included the fact that Titania had attempted to – and had been very successful in – garnering the attention of as many gentlemen as she could earlier that evening.
“As I have said, Dinah,” Titania said, controlling herself with an effort. “I am not complaining about last evening. I am simply stating that I found it most unusual that one gentleman in particular, to whom I am not acquainted, simply looked at me, smiled, and then walked away. That is all.”
Merry, who was sitting idly in a chair with one leg crossed over the other, her foot bouncing
in a most unladylike manner, let out a small snort of disbelief. “I hardly think that you need to consider such a thing as that, Titania,” she said, with a slight sigh. “After all, you were practically a diamond of the first water this evening! Almost every gentleman present came to seek you out.”
Titania rolled her eyes at this, knowing that Merry was exaggerating, and made no attempt to hide her irritation. “You are teasing me, but I will not pretend that I did not like the attention I received, Merry. I am quite certain that I saw you watching a few gentlemen with interest also, even though you claim that you have no desire to engage yourself in things such as dancing and conversing with titled gentlemen.” She arched one eyebrow and saw Merry flush. “Why do you not avail yourself to them? Why not show that you are, in fact, quite interesting and willing to be courted? I am certain that you would not then return home in such an unsuccessful manner.”
Merry’s flush deepened, her eyes flashing angrily. “I was not unsuccessful,” she stated, grasping the arms of the chair and leaning towards Titania in her anger. “I enjoyed this evening as best as I could, whilst ensuring that you did not make a fool of yourself by being so obviously overeager with almost every gentleman that approached you!” She narrowed her eyes, fixing Titania with her furious gaze. “This may come as something of a surprise to you, Titania, but I do not wish to be as you are. I do not wish to throw myself at whatever gentleman so much as looks at me, and I certainly do not wish to fill my head with questions over why one particular gentleman did not show me the interest I feel I deserve!”
So saying, she got to her feet and, without another word, flung the door open and strode from the room. The sound of her footsteps hurrying along the corridor echoed up towards Titania, leaving her feeling a sudden sense of guilt.
“I think I, too, shall retire.”
Titania, who had forgotten that Dinah was present, jumped in surprise.
“I find that your company is a little lacking,” Dinah continued, with a small sniff. “To complain about one gentleman ignoring you does indeed show a sense of arrogance and selfishness that does not behoove you, Titania. Good evening.”
Titania turned and walked to the window as Dinah left the room, her hands curling into fists as she fought against her own anger and frustration. It did not make sense in her own mind either, she realized, for to be considering the inattention from Lord Carroway instead of being delighted with the many dances and conversations she had enjoyed with others certainly did not make a great deal of sense. However, for whatever reason, she could not remove the very strange behavior of Lord Carroway from her mind. Why had he smiled at her in such a manner? Why had he then turned his head and left, choosing not to approach her or seek an introduction from another? It had been very odd, and she should have thrown it from her mind almost at once, but—for whatever reason—she had been quite unable to do so. And now she had upset Merry and allowed Dinah’s sharp words to sting at her heart. It was all quite wearying.
“I should perhaps retire also,” she murmured, turning away from the window and letting her gaze flick around the room. She was the only one still awake, it seemed, for her mother and Catherine had retired the very moment they had set foot in the house, and now Dinah and Merry were gone also. As tired as she was, Titania did not feel settled enough to retire, for her mind was still alive with questions and thoughts that would not give her any peace whatsoever.
Her eyes strayed to the letter that had been discarded on the table nearby. It was a letter from her brother, Grayson, who was now the new Lord Whitehaven. She had only given it a cursory glance when it had arrived earlier that day and had let her sisters read it first. Perhaps she should do so now, in the hope that her mind would quieten.
Sighing heavily, Titania meandered towards the table and picked up the letter, practically falling into a chair by the fire. Sitting slumped, one leg crossed over the other, and with the certainty that no one would arrive and find her as such, Titania began to read.
Grayson was continuing on at the estate and with all his many duties and responsibilities. He wrote of some of them, stating that the improvements to the tenant’s homes were taking more time than he had thought, but aside from that, all seemed to be going well. The crops would give them a good yield, he believed, and thus, he was quite content. This did not interest Titania very much, and she was about to set the letter aside and make her way to bed when a word or two caught her eye.
‘You must be on your guard, my dear sisters,’ Grayson had written. ‘I have some acquaintances in London who have informed me that there are some of those dastardly French amongst you all. You must be on your guard.”
Despite the warning, Titania felt a sudden thrill of excitement run down her spine. Spies? In the midst of London? Of course, surely none of them would be titled gentlemen, which meant that she had no particular need to concern herself, but she would have to ensure that she remained vigilant when walking through the London streets or the like. Not that she thought they would care much for her, given that she had no connection whatsoever to the army or any gravitas as regarded matters of state! A small smile crossed her lips as she continued to read Grayson’s letter, glad that her brother was showing such concern for his sisters, cousin and mama, even though they would not be in any particular danger.
The letter finished with a few words of encouragement, with Grayson stating that he hoped that they would all have an enjoyable Season and that Merry and Catherine would do their utmost to please their mother. This, Titania knew, was a gentle reminder to her sisters that they needed to show even a smidgen of delight at being amongst society and that they needed to grasp one or two opportunities, even if they did not truly wish to. There was no concern for her, of course, for Grayson knew all too well that Titania was already eager to take part in society and was hopeful of finding a suitor.
At this thought, Titania found her mind returning, once more, to Lord Carroway. Closing her eyes in frustration, she rose to her feet and threw the letter back down upon the table, irritated that, once again, she had allowed her thoughts to return to him when her initial desire had been to wipe him from her memory altogether. She did not want to think of him, did not want to let her mind fill with questions over him again. Perhaps her sisters were correct to state that she was behaving poorly by complaining. After all, she had received a good deal of attention from some wonderful gentlemen, including Lord Huckleby! If he were to court her, if he were to take a true interest in her, then she would have no need to consider Lord Carroway nor any other gentleman, for he would more than satisfy her every hope. If she were to be his bride, then she would be content for the rest of her days!
“So why, then, do I consider the one gentleman who did not come to seek me out?” she murmured aloud, getting to her feet and wandering to the window. Looking out into the darkness, she let her mind travel back over the letter her brother had written, feeling a twinge of excitement over the idea that someone, somewhere, was a spy for the French. She could barely imagine what they might look like, wondering if they would skulk about in the shadows or walk through London with their hat pulled so low that it would be more than difficult for anyone to see their face.
Or, it could be that Grayson was simply over exaggerating and had—as she was in danger of doing at this very moment—allowed his imaginings to run free without any thought of holding them back.
Smiling to herself, Titania let out a long breath and told herself that she need not be so foolish. There was no danger of such things as spies, not amongst the beau monde. All she needed to concentrate on was the Season and all the many wonderful occasions she would soon be attending.
As she was just about to turn away from the window so that she might retire, Titania suddenly caught sight of something. Her eyes narrowed, her breath catching as she stared out into the darkness, not quite certain what it was she had seen. There had been something there, yes, something she was certain she had seen moving, but as yet, she could not say what it
was. Frowning, she wrapped her arms about her waist and looked again, feeling nervousness climb into her stomach and begin to rest there. Perhaps she had been mistaken. Perhaps there was no one present at all and her mind was simply working much too quickly for her own good.
And then, she saw it again. A figure stepping back from the house, looking up at it with his hands at their hips. In the darkness, she could not make out his face nor anything about the person, but the person’s study of the house and, mayhap, of her, gave her a terrible fright. Her skin began to crawl as the figure drew close to the house, leaving Titania afraid that, somehow, in some way, this person might make it inside. She had no particular idea of what the person’s intentions were, nor did she know what it was he sought, but the fear that he would somehow manage to make it inside caught at her heart.
Looking over her shoulder, Titania hurried towards the fire and began to put it out as best she could so that very little of the fire’s glow remained. The hot coals still burned red and orange, but no flames reached up with long, yellow fingers. Sweat beaded on Titania’s forehead as she put out each and every candle, save one, her fingers trembling as she put the dampener on top of each flame. It was as though the man outside was still watching her, as though his gaze could reach her even as she hurried about the room. Sweat trickled down her spine as she edged back to the window, looking out cautiously and half expecting to see the man’s face appear at the window.
A gasp emitted from her chest as she saw the man step back again from the house, turning his head to look at another figure who was approaching. And then, without any warning, he turned and fled – and the second figure pursued him at once. They were gone in a moment, nothing more than two shadows eaten up by the darkness.
Titania let out a breath of relief and sagged against the wall, knowing that, for whatever reason, the house was safe and secure. The first man was now being pursued by the second and surely that would be enough to deter him from returning and attempting to gain entry into the house a second time? Come the morning, Titania would ensure that she informed the butler about what she had seen, just in case a footman or two could be spared to stand watch overnight. For the time being, she would retire to bed and make sure to lock herself in carefully, hoping that such measures would help her mind to settle and allow her to rest.
