The music seemed to end much too soon, for Richard wanted to carry on waltzing, wanted to keep a hold of Lady Christina so that he might enjoy dancing with her for as long as he pleased. With great reluctance, he stepped back and allowed her free from his arms, seeing the small, rueful smile as she moved back from him.
Dare he hope that she felt the same reluctance as he?
“I know I am meant to return you to Lady Newfield, Lady Christina,” he found himself saying, as she took his arm again. “But might you walk with me for a few minutes?”
Her eyes held a good deal of surprise as she looked up at him. “Walk with you?” she repeated, clearly a trifle confused. “Through the ballroom?”
It was not the wisest of suggestions, of course, for the ballroom was very busy indeed and filled with so many guests that it would be difficult for them to walk together.
“We could take a short walk out in the gardens,” he suggested quickly. “Lady Newfield would have to join us, of course.”
Lady Christina laughed, and Richard looked at her in surprise.
“I am sure she would be glad of a short respite from the heat of the ballroom,” she told him, her eyes twinkling. “But you will find that she is nothing more than a shadow behind us.” Her other hand reached across and patted his arm as though reassuring him. “Lady Newfield might be a little outspoken and certainly brash at times, but she is well able to keep herself silent when it is required of her.”
This brought a flicker of relief to Richard’s mind, for having now decided what it was that he wished to do, he found that his eagerness could not be stayed. He had to find a quiet space for both himself and Lady Christina to speak so that he could tell her the truth of how he felt.
“Then let us seek Lady Newfield and ask her to join us,” he said, praying that Lady Christina would not suddenly recall that she was to dance the next dance with another gentleman, making duty step in force her away from him. However, he had nothing to fear, for within a few minutes, Richard was leading Lady Christina out of the French doors with Lady Newfield walking closely behind them. Thunder seemed to rise in his chest as his desire to speak to her openly, to tell her of what had suddenly come upon his heart, grew at a feverish rate. He forgot about Lady Newfield, forgot about any other guests that were about him. All that mattered was Lady Christina.
“I must speak to you of something.”
Frustrated that his words were unsteady, that his voice was not as strong as he wished it to be, Richard cleared his throat and tried again.
“What I mean to say is, Lady Christina, there is something on my heart that must be spoken aloud. Spoken aloud to you.”
When he looked at her, her face was bathed in the flickering lantern lights, her eyes seeming to burn with flame as she turned her face towards him. He had never seen her look so beautiful.
“Please, Lord Harlow,” came the quiet reply. “I will listen to whatever it is you wish to say.”
Nodding, Richard tried to choose his words with care, but they began to flood out of him before he could stop them. It was as if his eagerness to speak as openly as he could had suddenly overcome him, forcing him to say what he had long desired.
“Lady Christina, I find that I am a changed man these last few days,” he began, catching the look of astonishment in her eyes. “We have been acquainted for one Season already, and I have always found you...intriguing.”
“Intriguing?” Lady Christina repeated, sounding a trifle disappointed.
Richard paused for a moment, trying to speak with as much clarity as he could. “I have found myself drawn to you, Lady Christina, but have pushed such an emotion aside, believing myself to be uncertain about such matters. However, these last few days, I have discovered that my heart is filled with such an affection for you that it cannot be held back.” He was speaking with more confidence now, finding both relief and hope in the words he spoke to her. “Lady Christina, I have walked into a room and found my eyes searching only for you. When it comes to dancing, I have cared for none but you. Indeed, I have known the gossip mongers will note my attentions towards you but have cared nothing for it!” With a small, wry shake of his head, he looked at her again. “I want very much to court you, Lady Christina. I know that it has been a long while since we were first acquainted and that you have every right to refuse me or, at the very least, to criticize me for taking such a long while. I am aware that I have shown you some attentions and have not progressed with them in any way, and you must forgive me for that.”
“Lord Harlow?”
Richard let out a long breath, feeling himself now a little weak since everything had been said. Daring a look at Lady Christina, he saw that she was smiling up at him, her eyes seeming to shine with a joy that he had never once expected.
“I will not criticize you, nor will I express any sort of frustration,” she said as they continued to walk slowly together. “Rather, I will merely accept your offer without hesitation.”
It was as though the skies had opened and a bolt of lightning had struck him, for his steps dragged, his heart pounded furiously, and his mouth refused to make a single sound. Lady Christina giggled up at him, making him shake his head to himself, trying to clear his thoughts. She had accepted him, and without even a moment to consider his offer! That meant that he had nothing to fear, no anxiety to plague his mind and heart. All that he could do now was look forward with joy to what next lay in store for them both.
“You cannot know just how happy this has made my heart,” he told her, as she shook her head.
“No, Lord Harlow,” she answered. “My happiness must far outweigh yours, for I have been waiting for what feels like an age for you to ask me such a thing.” Her hand tightened on his arm. “Not that I have any intention of criticizing you, Lord Harlow!”
“You have every right to criticize me,” he replied wryly. “I did not act when I should have.”
“But you have acted now,” she answered softly. “And that, my dear Lord Harlow, is all that matters.”
Chapter Four
After what had been the most wonderful of evenings, Christina had eventually retired to bed but found herself struggling even to close her eyes. The joy that filled her heart had been much too overwhelming, for she had wanted to clasp her hands and dance about the room with joy, but of course, given it would soon be approaching dawn, she did not indulge herself. Rather, she had thought of Lord Harlow, thought of the overwhelming happiness that had filled her when he had asked her the only question she had ever hoped to hear from him. And, finally, sleep had dulled the edges of her memories, and she had found herself lost to slumber.
Opening her eyes, Christina looked around the room, seeing sunlight pour through a chink in the heavy drapes. The room was warm and made her want to snuggle back down under the blankets, to close her eyes for just a few minutes more, but the slight dullness to her head made her all too aware that she needed something to drink. Tugging at the bell pull, she sat up in bed and pushed the pillows behind her, waiting for the maid to come in.
Having ordered a tray to be brought to her room, Christina let herself return to the moment last evening when Lord Harlow had spoken to her of his desire and his intentions. It was not a marriage proposal as yet, but a courtship certainly spoke to her of such a desire. She had never heard Lord Harlow speak to her in such an intimate manner before, and every word had brought a fresh joy to her heart, feeling as though she was walking on air beside him. Even Lady Newfield’s gentle reminder that Lord Harlow had yet to speak to her father had not managed to dissolve even a modicum of her joy, for Christina was quite certain that she would be able to convince her father to accept Lord Harlow’s offer, even though he was only a viscount.
Her father had never once said explicitly what he hoped Christina would achieve in her marriage, but she knew very well that it would be preferable to marry someone with a title equal or greater to her father’s, but that did not matter to Christina. Her heart was engaged with Lo
rd Harlow, and that was all Christina could consider. Besides which, Lord Harlow was a kind-hearted, sensible, and evidently, quite a passionate gentleman who spoke of his emotions rather than hide them away. That was of greater value than a mere title—at least as far as Christina was concerned.
Thanking the maid for the breakfast tray, Christina quickly dismissed her so that she might return to her thoughts. Should she speak to her father this morning? She did not know how he had fared last evening, or even what he had chosen to do, but if it had been another night of cards, another night where he had lost more than he had intended, he perhaps would not be as willing to speak to her as she hoped. A frown marred her brow. She would have to gauge his mood before she said a single word about Lord Harlow. This was too important an issue to rush into. Thus satisfied, Christina picked up her cup of warm chocolate and took a small sip, feeling herself refreshed and revived with even the smallest mouthful. A smile lingered as she picked up a piece of buttered toast. If all went well, then this very morning, she would be able to write to Lord Harlow to tell him that all was just as they had hoped.
* * *
It was not her father’s voice that caught Christina’s attention, but rather that of another gentleman. And what made it all the more odd was that the voice was raised, speaking with such force and intention that Christina could make out every word.
Do not eavesdrop, she told herself sternly. You know you ought not to listen at the door. Your father would...
Her thoughts died away as she heard her father’s angry tones, forceful and loud, throwing words back at the first. All thought of continuing on her way, of making her way past the study without even a moment of hesitation, flew from her mind in only a moment. Something—or someone—had upset her father and Christina could not simply walk by! Taking a few steps closer, she waited to hear the gentleman speak again, only for a lady’s voice to now interrupt them.
“You owe us a great deal of money,” came the lady’s voice, silky smooth but with just as much force as the gentleman’s. “And yet, you have not paid it.”
“I shall!” Lord Enfield exclaimed, a sudden thump making Christina stumble back, one hand to her heart. “I am already speaking to my solicitors and I—”
“We do not care about solicitors,” came the gentleman’s voice. “We have already made the terms clear. Your vowels state that you will give us whatever we wish, do they not?”
Christina caught her breath, one hand pressed to her mouth. Had her father really been so foolish as to write something like that down on a piece of paper, and then to hand it to this gentleman, whoever he was? Her heart began to thump painfully in her chest, her stomach tightening with tension. Just what had her father done?
“I have no recollection of doing such a thing,” Lord Enfield threw back. “I am aware that I owe you coin, and that matter is already being dealt with, as I have made quite clear.”
A hard laugh came from the gentleman. “But as my wife has just explained, Lord Enfield, that is not what your vowel states. It is that you will give us whatever we wish in lieu of the money.”
“And what we wish is to live in your estate for the next two years,” came the wife’s voice. “You may live there also, if you wish, but for all intents and purposes, it will be our home.” A small but cruel laugh came from her as Christina’s eyes flared wide with horror, hardly daring to believe what she was hearing. “And you shall give it to us without hesitation, Lord Harlow, else we may demand something else altogether.”
Closing her eyes, Christina leaned against the wall, her breathing ragged. What had her father been thinking of in sighing such a vowel? Had his senses been so blinded by liquor as to make him foolish? A gentleman’s word was his honor, and whatever her father had written was what they would now demand from him—but to demand Enfield House was quite extraordinary! What would a gentleman and a lady do with such a property, when surely, they already had their own manor house?
“Why should you demand this from me?” she heard her father ask, speaking the question that had been firmly in Christina’s mind. “What is it that you hope to gain?”
There came a moment of silence, and Christina held her breath, suddenly afraid that they would peer out the door and see her standing there. But then the answer came, and she let out her breath slowly, her heart still pounding with a furiousness that seemed to capture her whole being.
“It does not matter what we wish to use your townhouse for,” the gentleman answered harshly. “We might burn the place to the ground, should we wish to, and you would have nothing to say on the matter for you have already given us permission to live there as we choose.”
“I have given you no such thing!” Lord Enfield declared, and Christina felt a swell of pride at her father’s refusal to give in to what was being demanded. “I have never once expressed any agreement to this matter. I have stated that I will give you the coin that you are owed and—”
“No!” The gentleman’s voice was louder now, filled with a fury that sent a sheen of sweat across Christina’s brow.
“No, we will not have it!” he shouted, his voice seeming to press through all the tiny spaces in the doorway and make its way directly into Christina’s heart, sending a tremor of fear through her. “We do not want your coin, Enfield! You will agree to uphold your agreement else, as my wife has stated, there will be consequences for your refusal.”
Before she knew what she was doing, Christina found herself standing in her father’s study, the door pushed open with one hand and her other hand curled into a fist. Breathing hard, she stared into the face of a small gentleman, with graying hair and a dark look in his eyes.
“Christina, what are you doing here?” her father asked, but Christina pointed one long finger out towards the man and glared at him.
“How dare you?” she hissed, her anger burning hot within her. “How dare you come into my father’s house and demand that he obey you in such a fashion?” She stepped to one side, holding the door open wide. “Remove yourselves at once or else I shall have the footmen do so.”
For an instant, no one moved. Christina’s fury burned all the hotter, her eyes narrowing as she glowered at the gentleman. Whatever had occurred, she did not think that this man had any right to demand such things of an earl, especially not one as distinguished as her father.
And then, the man began to laugh. In fact, not only to laugh but to roar with mirth, throwing his head back as he mocked her relentlessly. His wife joined in, her hand pressed against her stomach as she bent forward, clearly making fun of Christina and what she had just announced. This only made Christina all the angrier, stamping her foot in sheer fury, only for her father to move towards her, wrapping his arm about her shoulders in a protective fashion.
“Christina, this is not for your ears,” her father said, whispering to her. “I am trying to protect you from Baron Fulham.” She looked up at him and saw the paleness of his face. “Why ever did you come in?”
“Do you know, Fulham,” Lady Fulham said, her eyes straying towards Christina. “I think that this might be the perfect punishment for Lord Enfield.”
Immediately, Christina’s stomach dropped to the floor. The calculated look that came into the baron’s eyes only made her all the angrier, although she could not help but feel a frisson of fear rattle through her bones.
“Indeed,” the baron said slowly, looking from Christina to his wife and back again. “You have refused us too many times already, Lord Enfield. I am certain that we can find a use for your beautiful daughter, Lord Enfield.” He chuckled, and Christina felt a shudder run straight through her. “I can see now why you did not tell us of her presence before.” His eyes drifted back towards Christina. “We do have a very eligible son, after all.”
Her stomach began to churn, making her realize that she had ended up placing herself in a very dark situation, indeed. It would have been wiser of her to stay out of the study, to leave her father to his own business matter, rather than burst
ing into the room as she had done, but it was too late for regrets now.
“I do not care for your son,” she stated, holding her head high. “In fact, I am already being courted by another gentleman.”
Lady Fulham took a step closer to her, making Christina shiver under her cold gaze. “You are quite mistaken, Lady Christina,” she said softly. “The only gentleman who is now courting you is our son, the Honorable Stephen Markham. Your betrothed.”
Christina shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “I will not be accepting a courtship—nor a betrothal—from any other gentleman.”
“You will do as your father says,” Lady Fulham remarked, her smile easy upon her lips, although none of it reached her eyes. “And your father owes us a good deal of coin, which we are exchanging for something that we require—as his vowel states.” She lifted one hand, reaching out as though to tip Christina’s chin up as if she needed to get a better look at her, but Christina jerked back at once, her anger now slowly fading to fear.
“There will be no need for the estate now, I suppose,” Lord Fulham said slowly, turning to his wife. “We only wanted it to increase our son’s prospects, so that he might marry higher than his station.” One shoulder lifted in a small shrug. “To state that he already had an estate of his own, which, perhaps, he had purchased from the Earl of Enfield, would give him great standing indeed.” A look of delight spread over his face, which only increased Christina’s terror. “But if he is to wed the daughter of an Earl, then I cannot think that we would need such a thing. After all, there would be an excellent dowry with the marriage, I am sure.”
Betrayal and Lies: Convenient Arrangements (Book 4) Page 4
