by Abby Ayles
“Oh, one of the duke’s daughters,” he said modestly, attempting to brush the question away as if it were a housefly. “I didn’t wish to be rude and not dance with her.”
“She seemed a charming young lady,” his mother went on. “And the lady on his cousin’s arm – oh!” She grinned a bit as if she had mischievous thoughts in mind.
She’s imagining us all married off, Rodrick thought. Nothing gives her more entertainment than living vicariously through all of us.
He almost felt sad for her; she’d been without her husband for all these many months. She used to have her own dashing husband on her arm at these parties and now she was forced to try and show off her son in his place.
Rodrick really didn’t understand why there was such rush and worry over who married whom and when. He was one and thirty, he wasn’t old. There was quite a bit more joie de vivre in him yet.
Alphonse, for his part, kept on grinning at him with seemingly unending amusement. “You cad. You weren’t supposed to run off and meet a girl for yourself.”
“Now I wish I’d gone instead of sitting in all evening with work, work, work!”
Indeed, you probably do, Rodrick said with some disdain for his friend’s faux regret. He knew perfectly well what he was sacrificing by not going to the ball, and he wasn’t truly sorry in the least!
“Oh, well, it shan’t be long before there is another one. Don’t you think so, Rodrick?”
He looked at his mother and sighed a little, taking another long sip of his brandy. “I’m not sure that Grosvenor Square can handle another ball so soon after the last one.”
“Don’t be silly,” his mother countered with a tsk. “Grosvenor Square was simply made for balls!”
Rodrick smirked a little at her. “I wonder, Alfie, if my being put off by women and their follies is due to my mother’s silly blathering.”
Alphonse chuckled. “Indeed, sir. It really does boggle one’s mind.”
Instead of being offended, Eleanor laughed at them, a gay sort of giggly laugh that was usually only performed by younger women. Further proof to him that his mother was having some sort of midlife crisis of the spirit.
“You boys are so cruel to me,” she said in a voice that said she thought they were actually anything but cruel.
Alphonse took one last swig of his brandy. “Well, alas, I must depart. I am urgently needed back in London.”
“Oh, I say, Lord Drake,” Eleanor said. “You really do work so hard.”
“It is the life of the son of an ailing old man,” he replied with great humility.
Rodrick narrowed his eyes slightly at his friend and thought he detected a barely perceptible smirk on Alphonse’s roguish face. “Indeed, sir.”
He escorted his friend back to the door and then clapped him on the back in farewell. “Stay out of trouble,” Rodrick bade him.
“Come now, Edwards,” Alphonse replied. “What fun would that be?”
As soon as his friend the marquess was gone back out to his carriage and onward to London, Rodrick returned to his dear mother in the drawing room and sat beside her on the couch, taking up his glass of brandy again. “He seemed almost gleeful that he didn’t go to the ball.”
His mother raised an eyebrow at him. “It sounds to me like you should be glad that he didn’t.”
Rodrick smirked a bit, swilling the rest of his drink and then placing the empty glass onto the table. He reached for the bottle but then thought better of it.
“Who was that pretty young lady who had so much of your attention?” his mother asked him. “Was she really only some sister of some duke’s daughter?”
He hadn’t realized that she had been paying that much attention to him, either at the ball or during the conversation that had just transpired. He didn’t quite know how he could best answer that question because he didn’t want his mother to suddenly get her hopes up about him marrying ‘some duke’s daughter.’
“She was the duke’s daughter,” Rodrick said to his mother honestly. “She was Lady Noelle Fletcher, daughter of the Duke of Salisbury.”
His mother’s jaw fell open. “The same girl that you were chiding Lord Drake for not dancing with?”
“The same,” he confirmed, nodding. “Were you listening in on our entire conversation?”
Eleanor smiled at her son. “You ought to know by now that I do that nearly every time you two are alone together.”
He laughed. “And why’s that?”
“Something about that man makes me nervous,” she stated. “I can’t quite explain why, but I don’t entirely trust him…”
This was news to Rodrick. She’d always seemed to fawn over him and want to be around him, but now he supposed that it was all a ruse in order to keep him close so she could keep an eye on him.
He couldn’t blame her, though. He often felt the same way, especially of late.
Lord Alphonse Drake, the Marquess of Fairfax liked to keep an air of mystery and mischievousness around him. Rodrick thought that he was fun to be around when he was playful and light-hearted, but he had a wicked side as well.
It was the wicked side of him that made him sit out the party, Rodrick thought. And for that reason, I’m grateful that Lady Noelle didn’t have to spend time with him.
He only wished that it was that simple. If the Duke and Duchess of Salisbury determined that Lady Noelle should marry Alphonse, then there was little that Rodrick could do about it.
There was also the small fact that he wanted to do anything to prevent it anyway. After all, if she married his best friend, then she’d be around in his life. If she married some other wealthy nobleman, then she could be gone just as soon as she had arrived.
Rodrick surprised himself to be thinking like this. He normally didn’t think much about girls, especially not a specific one that he’d just met the other night…
“I’m sorry,” his mother suddenly said, stirring his thoughts back to the present. “I didn’t wish to insult your friend. I just thought I should be honest with you.”
“No, Mother, it’s quite all right,” he replied, giving her a small smile and a pat on her hand. “I feel the same way sometimes.”
“That Fletcher girl is probably better off.” She had a strange look in her eyes when she said that to him.
He wasn’t sure that he liked it.
Later on, when he was alone in his bedchamber with his thoughts, he vowed that he wasn’t going to waste time on ‘what ifs.’ He wanted very much to see Lady Noelle again. How enchanting she had been!
He wished that his mother didn’t know about her, though. Now he couldn’t help but think that there was a further expectation for him to get married, because she’d witnessed him dancing with a young lady.
He could practically see the wheels turning in his mother’s head when she talked to him about Lady Noelle. But she is also Lady Noelle, a lady of status, he thought.
Rodrick didn’t like to waste time wishing for things he couldn’t have, but right now he deeply wished that he had the status that his cousin had. James was so kind and unassuming that he likely would’ve given him the earldom if Rodrick had asked him nicely.
Rodrick shook his head a bit and told himself to stop worrying so much about status and things he didn’t have. He had his mother’s love and support, and James’s as well. He was in a lovely family and that was what mattered.
Chapter 9
“Oh, what do you think is keeping the Marquess of Fairfax from coming?” Noelle’s mother fretted to her husband. “You don’t suppose that he is otherwise engaged, do you?”
The duke hmphed from behind his newspaper.
Noelle wished that she could do such a thing without getting lectured. As it was, she was at her drawing board in the sitting room, attempting to do a still-life of a half-empty cup of tea. And half-listening to her mother’s dramatic moaning.
“I do wish that more of you cared about this,” the duchess complained, putting a handkerchief to her mouth. She wasn’t really cryi
ng, but she did a great job of pretending when she wanted to. And now was one of those times.
“We do care about it, my dear,” the duke replied. “I’m sure Noelle wanted nothing more than to at last meet the dashing marquess and see for herself if she liked him.”
“Oh pfft, of course she’d like him,” his wife said with a dismissive wave of her ‘kerchief. “What’s not to like about a wealthy man with such a reputation?”
“What reputation is that, Mother?” Noelle asked her without looking away from her drawing. “It seems to me that he is more of a rogue than you’re willing to admit.”
Her mother appeared shocked. “I have heard no such things about him!” she cried. “He’s taking care of his father, who is ill, and all reports say that he’s a charming man.”
“We met him a few times,” the duke recalled. “I can’t recall him being ‘charming’ as you say, but he certainly held people’s attention…”
Noelle blushed a little bit as she smiled at her pad of paper. In all of her imaginings, the Marquess of Fairfax was a handsome – but conceited – young man. She didn’t want to be too dismissive of him, but the thought of him didn’t appeal to her.
She carefully shaded the edges of her teacup on the paper. “Perhaps he is interested in theatrical pursuits,” she offered. “If he receives so much attention at a ball and yet does not come across as memorably charming.”
Noelle didn’t intend to slight actors; indeed, if the marquess was an actor, that would succeed in making him more appealing to her.
Her mother, on the other hand, appeared practically horrified at the insinuation. “An actor! Really, Noelle, how improper for a man of his status.”
Noelle couldn’t help but giggle a little. “I find pursuit in the arts far more gratifying than regular ball attendance,” she admitted.
“You would,” her mother countered. “Oh! You and your sister, always going on about such nonsense. You need to be married – and then you can have your books and your art. But for now, you must make a match. And not with that Edwards fellow.”
The duke raised his eyebrow suddenly and lowered his newspaper. “Eh? What’s this? I thought you liked Lord Edwards. Seemed an agreeable and gallant fellow to me,” he added as if that would make it better for his wife.
“Lord Edwards was,” his wife hissed in correction. “But his cousin, Mr. Edwards, seemed such a droll sort of fellow.”
Noelle could tell that her mother was eyeing her but she didn’t dare look over at her.
“Apparently Noelle danced half the night with him while our Catherine – smart and attentive girl – continually paired up with Lord Edwards.”
Honestly, Mother, if you must always insist on picking favorites in this manner then I suppose I shall always lose to Catherine. Though Noelle took no pleasure in knowing that her mother was displeased with her actions of late, it gave her some satisfaction to know that she at least hadn’t felt like she’d wasted her time pining for some stranger.
“I thought Mister Edwards,” her father said then, “was a fine young man himself. He carried himself well, he was polite…”
“That may be, but he’s not even in the landed gentry!” the duchess went on. “And, oh, that mother of his!”
This Noelle couldn’t much remark on. She hadn’t made his mother’s acquaintance really, and she didn’t much care for discussions of land ownership. Instead, she began lightly shading in the tea inside her drawn cup as they talked.
She had an idea, but she wanted to speak to her sister about it first before she did anything about it. Catherine would need to be in agreement with her in order for it to work, but if it did then it should be quite a delightful success, she was sure.
As soon as she finished up her latest drawing, Noelle closed her drawing board and set it safely back in the corner of the room where no one else would bother it. Luckily for her, no one else in the family cared to try their hand at drawing so her supplies could remain hers alone.
She went up the stairs to Kitty’s room, gently knocking on the door and hoping that she’d find her sister in there, doing whatever it was that her silly younger sister did for entertainment.
Catherine grinned at her as soon as she opened the door to her bedroom. She took Noelle’s hands and led her inside at once. “Oh, Noelle, I’ve received so many wonderful letters!”
She gestured an arm over the stacks of letters that were laid out on her desk. Each one had been hastily opened and read and reread, to be sure.
“So many kind people thanked me for the ball the other night. Me! Isn’t it so very exciting?”
When Noelle glanced down and noticed the names on some of the letters or envelopes, she wasn’t so surprised that Catherine had been the addressee. “Ah yes, it was good of Mr. Ingram and Mr. Chase to write to you,” she said, tongue in her cheek.
“Aren’t they just divine?” Kitty asked her, holding one of the letters up to her chest. She completely missed the tone of Noelle’s voice, or she chose to ignore it.
“Quite,” Noelle agreed with a nod of her head. “As a matter of fact, while we’re on the subject of letters, I was just thinking that it would be nice to send a letter to Lord Edwards and his cousin, thanking them for their visit.”
Kitty’s cheeks pinkened and her mouth fell open a bit. “Why, Noelle, that is a superb idea! I did actually receive a letter from Lord Edwards.”
She held this letter out for Noelle’s perusal. The usual bon mots were displayed there in his steady and neat hand. Noelle couldn’t help feeling that this gentleman would make a rather fine match for her sister, even if Kitty was a bit of a dolt at times.
“Well, you were just going to receive this kind thank you and not reply?” Noelle asked her with a smile. “Really, Catherine, I thought Mother taught you better than that.”
“I didn’t know what to say,” Kitty said in an almost giddy manner. “I never know what to say!”
Noelle sat down at her sister’s desk and carefully moved the other letters out of the way so she could use the space there and get comfortable. Writing letters wasn’t her favorite activity either, but she knew that they served an important purpose.
She took some of the paper that her sister had in her desk – never used, most likely – and took up a pen.
“Oh, Noelle, you’re really serious,” Catherine remarked. She sat on her bed nearby so she could observe her with a smile on her face.
“If you wish to see someone again,” Noelle replied, “you have to let them know so they don’t think you’ve forgotten them.”
For a moment, she sat there looking at the blank page and thinking of what she should write. She knew that she should be writing to Lord Edwards, but the gentleman that she really wished to write to was Mr. Edwards.
“I think it’s prudent that I should write to Mr. Rodrick Edwards,” she announced then. “After all, he was my dancing partner. And you should write to Lord Edwards when I am done,” she concluded.
Kitty bit her bottom lip a bit, swinging her legs off the side of her bed. Sometimes it was quite difficult to believe that she was old enough to be receiving letters – multiple letters – from prospective beaus now.
“You’ll have to show me what I should say,” she replied. “I’m terrible at wording things properly.”
Noelle laughed lightly. She knew that her sister could be charming and witty in her own way, but she was not gifted with the quill. None of the Fletcher girls were, really. Not even Emily, although she was so fond of books.
“Of course, I would be delighted to help you compose a letter. Let me just write to Mr. Edwards first.”
She felt rather sheepish to admit that she was continuing correspondence with the gentleman even though their mother was annoyed at the very idea. She was supposed to be penning love letters to the marquess, and yet…
But this was not a love letter. That was silly. One had to be in love in order to write such a thing.
Putting her pen to the page, Noe
lle began to compose her letter. Kitty, meanwhile, sat rapt in contemplation of her own letter that she must write.
Dear Mr. Edwards,
I hope that this letter finds you well. I wanted to take this opportunity firstly to thank you for attending the ball that was hosted by my family.
It was immensely kind of you to spend time with me and help me entertain my little sister who is not fond of parties or large crowds. I shan’t forget that.
It is my sincere wish to meet with you again soon. When you are next in London, do think of us and make us a call.
Fondly,
Lady Noelle Fletcher
She set her pen down and read her letter over, blushing and smiling a little as she imagined him reading it. She had to believe that a man like Mr. Edwards received letters from young ladies all of the time… And yet there was something so endearingly modest about him.
