Lord Atten Meets His Match

by Jenni James

  “No. Lord Atten is not to blame in any of this. The old earl turned against your father long before the new earl was born.”

  Charity raised her chin a notch. “Which is why I accepted his request to come over.”

  Her mother looked positively appalled. “Does the man truly fancy you, or will this be another horrid way to ruin our family?”

  Taking in her mother’s staunch disapproval, her heart slowly dropped. She barely knew Lord Atten and could truly not claim if he was in earnest. “How am I to know? He definitely seemed genuinely interested—if this is a ruse, I have no knowledge of it.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t. That would spoil the outcome.” Her mother folded her arms.

  “Why must you hate a man you have never met?”

  Lady Waite took a deep breath. “It would break your father’s heart to know you have agreed to be seen with the earl. Not only would our good name be at stake—why, everyone would be talking about it!”

  “What did Lord Atten’s father do to Papa?” She held a hand up. “You speak as if he murdered Grandfather or stole the family’s infamous diamonds! What was so wrong that years later, the Ton still speaks of this feud and I am not even to be introduced to his son?”

  Her mother motioned toward the door. “Go and lock it. We will speak in private, you and I, and perhaps you can see why it is best to steer clear of that particular family forever.”

  Charity’s stomach began to twist in knots as she went and locked the door. After all these years, it was as if she’d rather not know what had happened. She returned to her mother and waited.

  Lady Waite refolded the duvet and tugged at the embroidered flowers at one of the corners. After a moment or two of silence, she finally spoke in hushed tones. “Before your father and I were married, he loved another miss.”

  Charity gasped. “I had no idea.” Father in love with another?

  “No, of course not, because I have never spoken of it to you.”

  “What happened to the other woman?” She tucked her feet under a fold of the blanket.

  Her mother waved her hand. “Now, wait a moment and I will tell you all.” She leaned forward and spoke the next shocking words in a whisper. “On the day of the wedding, all was as it should be. Except the bride was missing. She escaped the night before to Gretna Green with none other than the Earl of Cheswick! Your father’s closest friend.”

  Charity gasped. “He stole his bride? Lord Atten’s mother was almost Papa’s wife? But what about you? When did Father meet you?”

  “He met me about six weeks after the fiasco. People were still talking about the poor lord, and I was very eager to meet him.”

  She could not fathom why her mother would be eager to be introduced after such heartbreak. “Morbid curiosity?”

  Her mother smiled slightly. “Perhaps. Though at the time, I felt him a true tragic hero who’d been wronged. And I told him so that very night while we were dancing.”

  “What did Papa say?”

  “Not much. But his eyes followed me for the rest of the ball. And though we didn’t speak another word that evening, the next morning, a large bouquet of lilies and roses was brought to my door.”

  “It was the beginning of the end.”

  She adjusted her dressing gown. “Something of the kind. We were wed another four months after that.”

  Charity sighed. “I’m so happy you two found true love after such a tragic event.”

  Her mother avoided eye contact. “Yes. I as well.”

  “What is it?” Charity asked as she moved to see her mother’s face easier. “What is that look for?”

  Lady Waite blinked and then grabbed her handkerchief out of a pocket and dabbed delicately at the corner of her eye. “‘Tis nothing. I am merely reflecting on how happy I am.”

  With her downturned lips and lines between her brows, her mother appeared anything but happy. Charity had rarely seen her mother look so forlorn.

  Suddenly, Lady Waite shifted in her bed. “Run along, you!” She waved a hand and attempted a giggle. “There is much to be done today.”

  “Mother, I am not a child anymore. You cannot simply shoo me away.”

  She dabbed at her eye again. “I can and I will, you scapegrace. Now leave me in peace for a few moments.”

  Charity caught one of her mother’s hands and peered into her glossy gaze. “Mother?” And then she gasped. Of course! What a dolt she had been. These memories—the scandal must have provided many more insecurities and pain than Lady Waite was willing to acknowledge so early in the morning. “You don’t think Father is still in love with Lady Cheswick, do you?”

  Her mother inhaled sharply and glanced away. “Why would I ever think something as silly as that?”

  But Charity knew. Her heavy heart twisted painfully as she racked her mind for any memory that would prove the idea wrong. But nothing, out of all her years, could produce a moment when she saw her father courting, or kissing, or showing any affection to her mother. Indeed, he rarely attended the opera, or balls, or recitals with her. Rarely came home with them to Devon in the summer, always choosing to stay here in London. And for some strange reason, he still completely loathed the Cheswicks. Even after his own daughter had grown, his resentment appeared to multiply.

  “Mother, how have you born such an awful trial?” She reached out and touched her mother’s arm.

  “Charity, don’t you dare begin to say such a thing to me. I have had a very good life.”

  A life without love seemed extremely bleak. “Do you care for Papa?”

  Her gaze grew a bit mistier, and her smile warmed. “I have never had eyes for anyone but that spirited man. He has and will always be a paragon among lords, and the only one who holds my heart.”

  The reality Charity had always known shattered around her in broken shards. Suddenly, she felt older and not quite willing to give it up. “So, this is why I should turn the new earl away?”

  Lady Waite rubbed her lips together and then captured both of Charity’s hands into hers. “It would seem everyone I love would prefer to be with an Atten.”

  “Mother, don’t say such things!”

  “But it is true.” Lady Waite smiled ruefully. “You are definitely more alive this morning. Even your eyes shine. I must assume Lord Atten put that vivacity there. And I would be extremely lax as a mother to wish it gone again.”

  “But Mother—”

  She did not look at her, but merely put a hand up to stop her protests and continued. “This will upset your father greatly. His jealous nature is one of his biggest—well, let us just say he does not react kindly once he sees green.”

  Charity pulled her hands out of her mother’s grasp. “If it hurts you and Papa this much, I won’t see him. It’s as simple as that.”

  Lady Waite faced her daughter, and Charity was stunned to see two very large tears making their way down her cheeks. “My dearest, because of my very presence, I stopped the one person I loved the most to ever truly know happiness. I refuse to do so again. If Lord Atten is your match, I cannot allow myself to stop you from realizing this. Not again. Not after so many years of heartache. I implore you to go with him today and see what may come of it.”

  Perplexed, Charity rose from the bed and walked over to the window. She gathered the large sash encasing the deep purple curtains and peered out. As she stared down at the lovely hedged garden below, she attempted to calm her pounding heart. “Do you actually believe there is only one perfect match for everyone?”

  Her mama let out a long sigh. “I don’t know, Charity. I used to think that your father and I were the ideal pair and I knew one day he would realize it as well. Except he never seemed to. And instead, I have begun to have my doubts. What if there is only one being for us? Then L-Lady Atten was his, and I’ve ruined everything.”

  “Mother, for goodness’ sakes. Even you yourself admitted that Lady Atten ran away from Papa. You did nothing wrong—only gave him a second chance at love. An opportun
ity to have a family of his own. You were the courageous one here. You did not cause the problem. Certainly the duchess of Cheswick and the late earl should be blamed! They should have spoken to Papa before causing such a scandal.”

  “In my own foolishness, I had forgotten that small detail.”

  “Mother, do not think of yourself as foolish. Your distraught heart has tried for years to make sense of a situation you had no control over.”

  She took a deep breath. “I don’t think I have seen it in that light before. Thank you, dear.”

  Charity walked away from the window. “Nonetheless, all of this is trivial. I have no intention of allowing Lord Atten to call upon me anyhow. We both knew it was impossible to continue on last night. I believe we were merely caught up in the moment and agreed to meet even after we’d settled never to see each other again. Now I shall simply abide by our first promise and send over a note immediately.”

  “Charity, are you sure?”

  She took a long look at her mother’s tearstained face. The last twenty-four hours had finally revealed what Charity had been curious about her whole life. And now that she fully comprehended the scandal and horridness that Lord Atten’s father had caused her family, she knew nothing was worth seeing her mother cry again. Not even the handsome Earl of Cheswick. “Yes. On this point, I am unmoved.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN:

  Unbeknownst to Everett, a “thank you, but regretfully declining” note had been sent a couple of hours earlier to his home. Lord Atten had spent his morning in perfect bliss, having no idea his person was not wanted in the home of Miss Waite. Instead, he whistled cheerfully as he was fitted for a new superfine coat and pair of Hessians. He even invested in a couple of very outrageous waistcoats he was certain would make Charity laugh. And then on a whim, he walked into a jewelry shop and nearly purchased a collection of pretty baubles before he recollected himself and set them back. Such an action was unusually premature and would more than likely scare the poor lady off.

  With a tip of his head, he left the shop, sat his top hat at jaunty angle, and then continued down the street. A joyful whistle accompanied him the whole way. Despite the stares of those around, he continued. With such a feeling, he could barely keep his feet from running ahead of themselves. Now was the time to be cool and collected, yet energetic and rushed seemed to be all he could think of.

  As he passed a flower stand, he halted and took a few steps back. There was just the thing to brighten her! And more appropriate than jewelry as well. He quickly gathered a rather large bouquet before second-guessing himself again and removing several bunches of flowers.

  “Is this more suitable for a young lady?” he asked the man standing behind the cart of flowers.

  The merchant merely blinked up at him. “What’s that, milord?”

  “Nothing. Merely speaking to myself.” He handed over the smaller bunch. “I wish to purchase these.” Then he handed over all the flowers he had removed. “And these as well. The quickest way to a pretty miss is through her mama, so I’d better fetch her some flowers too!”

  With a look of amusement, the merchant wrapped each bunch up attractively and handed them over.

  “Thank you.” He dropped a few coins in his hand, pulled out his pocket watch and then hurried his step. He was expected in a quarter of an hour. Finally, it was time to see the minx again. As he walked, everything felt so alive, so crisp, so new. It was as if he’d never really noticed the world around him until that moment.

  Everett paused at the foot of her step and straightened his coat jacket and cravat. He ran a hand through his hair, then holding his hat tucked under his arm, he rapped upon the door. The frosty butler had him sit in the vestibule for a moment before taking him into a large green-colored drawing room. Perched on the settee was a middle-aged woman in a fine pale-pink gown.

  “The Earl of Cheswick,” the butler announced.

  “Come in and sit down,” the woman spoke, pointing to the emerald-colored chair nearest her. “I’m shocked you arrived even after my daughter respectfully declined your invite.”

  He froze mid-step. “Did she?”

  “Yes. This morning, she sent a note of apology.”

  His heart went cold and his thumb began to twitch. “Forgive me. I have been away most of today running errands.”

  “Errands? Don’t you have servants who run your errands for you?” She gestured toward the seat again. “Please sit down.”

  He approached the seat she had indicated and then handed over one of the bouquets. “Some things are not to be left to servants. These are for you, Lady Waite.”

  “Well!” She looked pleasantly surprised, and when she smiled, she looked exceptionally pretty. “I was not expecting flowers. I—thank you.”

  “You are welcome.” He held his breath and then spoke frankly. “And I’m truly sorry I will not be able to spend time with Miss Waite.”

  Lady Waite rang the bell, and a servant appeared. “Please place these in water as soon as possible.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The young man bowed and disappeared.

  “Truth be told, my daughter was very eager to meet you until she learned the facts of the actual feud between our families. I’m afraid I may have scared her away with my silliness this morning.” She leaned forward. “It was her decision to cancel the outing. I attempted to encourage her to go, but Charity is forever loyal and would not.”

  He searched the woman’s features for a clue of what they spoke of. For years he had attempted to make sense of it all, yet no one would confide in him. “Loyalty is certainly a virtue to praise.”

  “Yes, but if she…” Lady Waite’s voice trailed off. “Never mind. I will let her know you are here and then we shall see what happens. However, first, I am curious as to why the Earl of Cheswick has made it a particular plight of his to seek out the one daughter he is not allowed to have any contact with.” She crossed her arms as if in a challenge of sorts.

  Everett grinned. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked Lady Waite. “Well, besides the obvious—she is forbidden, which is highly attractive to any man—could it not be simply because she intrigues me? ‘Tis a fact she intrigued me long before I knew who she was. I was a good deal into being smitten by the hoyden.”

  Lady Waite’s eyebrows rose, but instead of being angry, she laughed.

  “Forgive me. I should not have said hoyden—yet, if you knew what she said to me those first few moments!”

  “Oh, you have no need to apologize. I know perfectly well how my daughter is.” She shook her head. “It is probably why she has not had many suitors, if you must know.”

  His tone softened, and confusion marred his brow. “Then they are fools. There is a significant amount of frankness, and surprise, and humor a gentleman should be searching for in a lady to court. She is also quick-witted, and surprisingly fragile. It is a haunting combination. One my heart has yearned to find.”

  “Stop. I’ve heard enough. How I have longed for a gentleman like you for my daughter. Do not leave this chair. I shall fetch her myself!” Lady Waite rose from the sofa. “Charity is trying to protect me from being hurt by the acquaintance. But how can I hurt when so much good may come of this? Now wait here.”

  She then left the room. The young servant entered a few moments later carrying the vase of flowers. He set them on a small table near the settee. Without a word, Everett watched him leave. He fiddled with the other bouquet, spinning it in his hand. As he glanced around the room, he saw a small secretary in the corner. Its delicate carvings made it look to be an heirloom of sorts—perhaps even a century old.

  He should’ve stayed seated, but curiosity took hold and he walked over to the desk. Lifting its lid, he found a small pot of ink, papers, ribbon, and quill. Everett sat down on the stool provided. Then before he changed his mind, he penned a short letter to Charity. He shook the paper to dry and cut a piece of ribbon. After folding the missive and tying a ribbon around it, he secured the letter to the bouquet and left it
on a chair in the drawing room.

  He did not understand all that had happened between last night and today, yet he was aware of himself to know when a young lady needed some space. Whatever she learned this morning affected her greatly, and it would be senseless to act as though her thoughts mattered not.

  Everett glanced around the room one last time and said a little silent prayer, hoping one day he would be invited again. Walking into the hallway, he headed to the door, set his hat back on, and went down the stairs into the bright sunshine. This time, his steps were determined and solemn. He would respect her wishes and continue on with his day. Without her. Even if his chest painfully pleaded with him to stay.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Just before Charity walked into the drawing room to demand that Lord Atten leave, she knew he was gone. She didn’t know how she knew—perhaps it was the bereft feeling of loneliness that filled her. Whatever it was, as she headed into the room, her heart sank when she spotted the sweet bouquet he had left for her. With a silent moan, she picked it up and felt the note attached.

  Her fingers trembled as she opened it, and then realization of the utter helplessness surrounded her as she read—

  Dearest Miss Waite,

  Forgive me. I did not mean to push my intentions on you so soon. I was too eager than to think of your own sensible feelings on the matter. I vow I will allow your wishes to win this battle. It was ungentlemanly of me to assume you would be keen to begin an acquaintance with one who could cause you and your family so much harm. Again, my apologies, dear lady.

  Affectionately yours,

  Everett Atten

  Charity collapsed upon the chair and pressed the note to her chest as her mother came in the room.

  “I assume you two are getting along swimmingly now—oh! Where did Lord Atten go?”

  She tucked the letter under her sleeve before her mother saw it. “He was gone when I came in, though these lovely flowers were on the seat.”