by Rose Pearson
“You will attend, Elsbeth, else I shall send Mrs. Banks out from this establishment. Do you understand me? I will terminate her position here if you do not show at this ball. This is your choice, Elsbeth. Either you do as expected or Mrs. Banks will lose her place in the only house she has called home these last fifteen years.” She gave a slight shrug and turned away from Elsbeth, walking back towards the door. “The choice is yours, Elsbeth.”
Elsbeth went cold all over, realizing that Miss Skelton had her over a barrel. She knew full well that Elsbeth would do anything for Mrs. Banks, which meant that she would go to the ball this evening after all, would dance and converse with the gentlemen there and would listen to them when they spoke. That included the hateful Lord Radford, with his arrogant ways and determined smile. Sinking into her seat, Elsbeth let out a long groan and buried her face in her hands, feeling hot tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
She had no choice. She had thought that, finally, she would be able to start making decisions about her own life, would be able to determine what it was she could do, but now, it seemed, Miss Skelton continued to hold the reins of her life. She was to be tossed about, from one place to the next, simply by Miss Skelton’s demand.
Tears began to flow through her fingers as she wept, feeling both hurt and confused by Miss Skelton’s hatred of her. Why she would go to such lengths as to threaten to hurt Mrs. Banks, just to force her to remain at the ball, to force her to consider gentlemen that she’d never met before in life?
You are not wanted.
Her tears still flowing, Elsbeth got up from the bed and looked at the smooth, unblemished silk of her new gown. It was beautiful, almost seeming to glow as she ran her fingers down it gently.
You are not welcome.
This was why Miss Skelton was doing all she could to force Elsbeth to attend the ball. She did not care whether or not Elsbeth became a governess, a seamstress or a wife, just so long as she left her establishment as soon as possible. Perhaps she knew that Elsbeth’s chances of finding a suitable position as a governess were somewhat slim, given her status and her lack of proper parentage, so was determined to have her meet as many gentlemen as possible in the hope that one might take Elsbeth off her hands. On top of which, Lord Radford appeared to have spoken to her about his interest in Elsbeth, which made her almost sick to her stomach.
She wanted nothing to do with him and, whilst she knew she had no other choice but to attend this evening’s festivities, it did not mean that she would have to accept any kind of invitation to further her acquaintance with anyone, including Lord Radford.
Wiping her eyes, Elsbeth tried not to let her feelings of panic rise up and overwhelm her, knowing that to do so would allow Miss Skelton to win a great victory. She would dress and go down to the ball as expected, but she would keep her head held high, her stance firm and her gaze determined. Miss Skelton would see that she was not withering underneath her threatening words, but would see her stand tall, doing what she had to because she loved Mrs. Banks like a mother. There was no shame in that.
It was, however, with great trepidation that Elsbeth made her way down the stairs and into the large hall that was used for dining each day, seeing it now transformed into a ballroom – although it was not particularly grand in any way. There were lanterns and candlesticks set up around the room, with a wide-open floor for the dancing. There was also a table at one end which held refreshments, and Elsbeth knew there would be a short break in the middle of the evening where a light supper would be served.
Her stomach was in knots as she descended carefully, hoping she did not draw too much attention. The gown she had on was the most beautiful thing she had ever worn, her long gloves matching the shade perfectly. One of the maids had surpassed herself with Elsbeth’s hair, for it now seemed to curl beautifully whilst being kept piled up high on her head, with only a few tendrils escaping to whisper around her forehead. Her slippers were soft and warm and a single diamond glittered in a pendant that she wore around her neck – it was the only piece of jewelry she owned and, whilst she had always had it, she had never known where it came from. And, of course, Miss Skelton had never told her.
Miss Skelton was watching her, a grim smile on her face as Elsbeth descended into the ballroom. Elsbeth caught her eye but did not look away, determined not to be ashamed. She would not marry any of these gentlemen here tonight, even though she would have to converse and dance with them all. Miss Skelton was not to force her into matrimony, no matter how hard she tried.
“And finally, my flower, I have learned your name.”
Elsbeth jerked to attention as she heard the familiar voice of Lord Radford in her ear, turning swiftly and, just a moment afterwards, stepping away from him.
“We do observe propriety here, my lord,” she murmured, looking over his shoulder so that she would not have to see his arrogant features. “You are standing much too close.”
He chuckled but did not move forward again, rubbing his hands together in a way that made Elsbeth shudder.
“Miss Skelton has informed me that you are Miss Elsbeth Blakely, my dear lady, and I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I am Viscount Andrew Radford.”
He bowed and Elsbeth, despite her determination not to give him more than a single moment of her attention, curtsied as gracefully as she could, aware that Miss Skelton would be watching her.
“Now, where is your dance card?” Lord Radford exclaimed, his eyes roving over her figure towards her hands. “I must sign as many dances as I can.”
She lifted her chin, her demeanor cool. “I am afraid, Lord Radford, that I do not wish to dance with you. Do excuse me.”
Hearing his sharp intake of breath, Elsbeth winced inwardly, far too aware that he would go to Miss Skelton about her behavior towards him and prayed desperately that it was not a step too far. Mrs. Banks’ position was at stake, but she simply could not bring herself to dance with the arrogant gentleman who looked at her as though she were nothing more than a delicious morsel he could not wait to pick clean.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Blakely?”
Closing her eyes for a moment, Elsbeth turned to see Lord Radford coming after her, his cheeks a mottled red.
“Yes, Lord Radford?”
“I procured an invitation to this evening so that I might dance with you and further our acquaintance,” he spluttered, more than a little angry. “And you have the gall to turn me down?”
Elsbeth gave him a small, tight smile as the music began for the first dance. “Lord Radford, whatever gave you the impression that I was interested in furthering my acquaintance with you?”
His mouth fell open for a moment as he stared at her, only for him to shake his head in apparent disbelief.
“I believe I made my feelings quite clear when we spoke earlier today, Lord Radford,” she continued when he said nothing. “I can tell that you are a gentleman used to being given all that you desire but I am afraid I will not be so inclined.”
Lord Radford swallowed hard, his brows furrowing together and his jaw clenched. “Miss Blakely, I was led to understand that you require either a husband or a protector.” He shrugged, his gaze drifting over her form. “I am not yet inclined to marry so a protector would suit me very well as it would you, I understand, since you are so determined to have a modicum of freedom.”
Elsbeth felt herself go cold all over, her hands beginning to shake as she looked back at him, hardly believing what he had just said. Clenching her hands together in front of her, she drew in a long, steadying breath before speaking, knowing exactly where such a suggestion had come from.
“And might I ask, Lord Radford, if this supposed knowledge came from Miss Skelton?”
“It did,” he replied, without even the slightest hesitation. “As she is in charge here, I thought it to be the truth.”
“Then you are quite mistaken!” Elsbeth exclaimed as the music rose to a crescendo behind her. “I am not looking for a protector. I am to be a go
verness, or a teacher, depending on what situation I can find. I am not a poor and lowly lady who will fall into your arms and thrust my favors upon you so that you might pay me in return. How dare you think of me in such a way!”
Despite her anger, Elsbeth noticed that Lord Radford appeared to be rather disconcerted, his expression growing almost horrified as he looked back at her. Elsbeth had no doubt that Miss Skelton had been the one to tell him such a thing, using his interest in Elsbeth for her own ends, but what on earth had made Miss Skelton think that she would ever have accepted?
An icy hand gripped her heart as she studied Lord Radford, her breath slowly leaving her body.
“You thought to try and force me into such a situation,” she breathed, stumbling back from him. “You were sent over to me in order to try and persuade me, one way or the other, to do your bidding, to become your mistress.” She clapped one hand over her mouth, horrified and terror-stricken. “Get away from me.”
“No, Miss Blakely, no, I never thought to do anything of the sort,” Lord Radford protested at once, his hand reaching for her. “I spoke to Miss Skelton and –”
“Your association with Miss Skelton tells me everything I need to know about your character, Lord Radford,” Elsbeth interrupted, turning her back on him. “Now leave me be. I do not wish to exchange even another word with you for the rest of the evening.”
4
Viscount Andrew Radford was angry and humiliated. He had thought that the lady he had been pursuing would be more than willing to speak to him and to dance with him and certainly had not intended to make his proposal to her so soon, but her reaction to him had been both horrifying and shaming.
He did not understand it. When he had spoken to Miss Blakely earlier that day, she had seemed cold and disinterested, but he had put that down to the fact that he was speaking to her in a public place, where she had to be on her guard as regarded her behavior. She was, by all accounts, an orphan, or at the very least, someone whose parentage was unknown, which meant that society already looked down on her somewhat. And yet he had been captured by the beauty of her eyes, the windswept hair that tumbled out of its pins and down her shoulders. She appeared so free, so unhindered, that he had been drawn to her.
To discover that there was a ball for gentlemen such as he to attend had been a pleasant surprise in itself, and to find Miss Skelton so willing to have his presence there had been wonderful. When he had mentioned the lady at the front of Smithfield House, he had been astonished at Miss Skelton’s eagerness to speak of her. Within a few minutes, he knew her name, how long she had been at the House for Girls and that she had a dowry to her name that was rather substantial. He had quietly asked about the girl’s benefactor, but Miss Skelton had shaken her head, saying she knew very little.
Not that the dowry mattered to him, being a viscount, for he had more than enough wealth. Nor did he intend to marry and had said so to Miss Skelton, whilst still mentioning his interest in the lady. As far as he knew, the ladies that lived in this House required an income that would keep them housed and fed for the rest of their lives, and he had to wonder whether or not that income had to come from proper means.
What he was hoping for had been quite improper.
Miss Skelton, however, had not seemed in the least bit put out by his careful mention of what he had to offer the lady, eagerly expressing how glad she was to hear of his inclinations and that she was quite sure Miss Blakely would be willing to listen to his proposal, if not to take on the role as soon as she could. This had surprised him, given that Miss Skelton was meant to care for the ladies who resided in the Smithfield House, but then Andrew had realized just how many young ladies passed through these doors and all had become clear in his mind. Miss Skelton required young ladies to find suitable situations very soon after they came of age, for the following year she would have even more young ladies to care for….and not all of them could become governesses now, could they? And even fewer would become wives.
However, now it appeared that Miss Blakely had no notion of becoming anyone’s mistress, least of all his. He did not know whether to be angry with Miss Skelton for misleading him, or with himself for pursuing a young lady simply because she intrigued him. After all, this ball did not exactly match up to his usual social events. He was much more inclined to spend his time around high society, mixing with earls and viscounts instead of baronets and knights!
“I do apologize, Lord Radford, for how Miss Blakely spoke to you. Might I please ask you to forgive her outburst?”
Coming to a standstill, Andrew looked down at a small, rather round lady who was looking up at him with grave concern in her eyes.
“She did not mean to insult you, Lord Radford, I am sure,” the lady continued, almost desperately. “I will speak to her myself, of course.”
Andrew sighed. “And might I ask who you are?”
The lady colored, bobbing a curtsy. “Of course. Do excuse me. Mrs. Banks is my name and I teach the girls here at Smithfield House.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “You teach them?”
“All manner of things,” Mrs. Banks replied, as they began to walk together to the edge of the room. “Including the truth that they can choose their own path in life. Miss Blakely is determined not to marry as yet, Lord Radford, although she should have made that clear to you in a less fraught manner.”
He shook his head, another sigh tearing from his lips. “I did not ask her to marry me, Miss Banks, if that is your concern.”
She blinked up at him, clearly confused.
“It was a rather different proposal, if you catch my meaning,” he replied, not caring in the least what the lady thought of him. “Miss Blakely made her disinclination very clear.”
Mrs. Banks frowned at once, her cheeks growing red as her eyes narrowed, spitting fire.
“How dare you?” she whispered, speaking to him as though he were her son and she his ever-proper mother. “This is not that kind of establishment and Miss Blakely certainly is not that kind of lady!”
“I was encouraged to do so!” he exclaimed, growing frustrated with the lady and, in fact, the entire situation. “It appears I have been misled.”
The anger faded from Mrs. Banks expression almost at once, although the frown remained.
“Miss Skelton seemed to suggest that Miss Blakely would be more than willing to do as I asked, but it appears she was wrong,” he continued, making to move past her. “Do excuse me.”
“My lord.”
He looked down to see Mrs. Banks’ hand on his arm, which both surprised and irritated him. He was forced to remind himself that he was not at one of his usual balls and that, therefore, his expectations ought not to be in any way similar, but still, the fact that she had caught him in such a way was most improper.
“Miss Skelton does not care one jot for that girl, Lord Radford,” Mrs. Banks said firmly, her jaw clenched. “I would not listen to a word she says about Miss Blakely, for she is determined to have her gone from this place in any way she can.”
A twinge of interest tugged at Andrew’s mind. “And why is that, Mrs. Banks? What is it about Miss Blakely that makes Miss Skelton treat her so?”
The lady shook her head, her hand dropping from his arm as she turned her head away. “I do not know, Lord Radford. Forgive me, I should not have spoken so openly with you, but I must know that Miss Blakely is being taken care of in the best way possible. I would advise you not to heed anything Miss Skelton has said about her for, as I said, her intentions towards her are not kind.”
Andrew nodded slowly, seeing the pained expression on Mrs. Banks features and realizing that she did, in fact, truly care for the girls she taught.
“Thank you, Mrs. Banks,” he murmured, inclining his head. “I will heed your advice.”
“And you will not speak of Miss Blakely’s behavior to Miss Skelton?” Mrs. Banks asked anxiously, as he made to turn away. “I am fearful of what she would do, Lord Radford.”
He nodded aga
in. “Of course I will not,” he replied smoothly. “Good evening, Mrs. Banks.”
Moving away from her, Andrew found himself filled with a sudden curiosity over the beautiful Miss Blakely. If what Mrs. Banks said was true, then there was some reason that Miss Skelton disliked the lady, although he could not guess why. She intrigued him even more than before, despite her robust refusal to engage with him in any way.
“You are being ridiculous, Radford,” he muttered to himself, as he wandered to the table of refreshments and picked up a glass of something that appeared to be champagne. “Forget about her and find someone else to consider.”
Turning around, Andrew took in the many young ladies that were dotted about the floor, seeing them smile and laugh with the gentlemen that had joined them. None of them caught his interest in the way Miss Blakely had. In fact, Andrew found himself searching for her, his eyes moving past the other ladies within a few seconds.
“My dear Lord Radford, I do hope you have had a chance to speak to Miss Blakely,” said a familiar voice as Miss Skelton came to stand by him. “I saw her speaking with you. I do hope everything is quite all right.”
He cleared his throat and saw the worried eyes of Mrs. Banks watching him closely from across the room. “Of course, Miss Skelton. Why would there be any difficulty?”
Miss Skelton said nothing but gave a slight shrug, her eyes watching him with such intensity that for a moment, Andrew wondered if she was able to read his thoughts and see exactly what it was he was thinking.
“I assure you, Miss Skelton, Miss Blakely was nothing but amiable towards me, and I did find myself enjoying our rather spirited discussion.”
“I see,” Miss Skelton murmured, sounding somewhat disbelieving. “And are you to dance with her later?”
Andrew felt his mouth go dry as he struggled to think of an answer. Mrs. Banks was still staring at him from across the room, but he still could not think of a reasonable explanation as to why he did not have his name on her dance card.
