Lord Atten Meets His Match

by Jenni James

  “Yes, he brought me a nice bouquet as well.” Lady Waite pointed to the vase on the table. “Such a thoughtful young man.”

  “Yes, he is.” Charity closed her eyes and imagined the kiss they had shared the night before.

  “’Tis a shame he left. He seemed so eager to speak with you.”

  “Did he?” She glanced over. “Are you saying I should have been here to receive him?”

  “I would never tell you what to do, dear.”

  “Mother—”

  “Yet even I was very surprised at how utterly charming he was.” She leaned over the sofa and collected her sewing. “In fact, I don’t blame you one jot for caring for him as you do.”

  “I never did say I care for him. I merely find him intriguing.”

  “Aye. And he you as well.”

  “Yes, but he’s the Earl of Cheswick.” Charity gently tossed the flowers on the table next to her and then picked them up again.

  “And if he were not the Earl of Cheswick? What then?”

  Charity’s heart began to pound erratically. “What exactly are you alluding to, Mother? He certainly is not someone else, so it is ridiculous even to imagine the possibilities as if he weren’t.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely out of the question!” She set the flowers back on the table.

  Her mother took a deep breath and nodded. “Very well. I will leave you to decide the matters of your heart on your own, then.” She turned to leave the room.

  Charity scrambled to her feet and followed her. “Lord Atten is not a matter of anyone’s heart, and certainly not mine.”

  “If you say so.” Lady Waite nodded to the butler as she collected the corner of her skirts and began to head up the stairs. After taking a step or two, she paused and turned. “Harris, please see that Cook arranges fish tonight. I find I need something a little lighter for my palate than we originally agreed upon.”

  “Yes, my lady.” He bowed and left.

  Lady Waite looked over at her daughter. “Don’t be so stubborn as to ruin something that could possibly be wonderful.”

  Charity placed a hand on her waist. “This is too melodramatic by half! Wonderful, indeed.”

  “Take my word for it. My life and heartache are not worth immortalizing. I am just a woman stuck in a delicate spot. You can be anything you desire, and I’m afraid you are shutting out what you wish for to wallow in my self-pity.”

  “I cannot believe I’m hearing this!” She stood frozen in spot.

  “Can you not? Isn’t it the truth?”

  Charity opened her mouth to protest and then quickly shut it again. “I—I hope not.”

  Lady Waite came back down the steps and walked up to her daughter. One hand went out to touch her shoulder. “Take a moment and breathe. Really think of how you feel toward the man. And once you decide what that is—for just a moment, allow yourself to see him smiling and dancing with another young lady. When your heart is perfectly capable of accepting that scenario, then you know all shall be well and you did the correct thing.”

  Her mother smiled. “Don’t attempt this right now. Give it a few days. Until then, embrace the great feeling you have in rejecting him, for that sensation will only intensify as the days go by.”

  Charity furrowed her brow. “Is this some ridiculous attempt to make me regret my decision?”

  “Why, you’d only feel that way if you had made a mistake! Do you feel as though you have made one?”

  Charity threw her hands in the air and brushed past her mother to head up the stairs. “I have no idea how I feel right now.” She stomped ungracefully up a few steps and then turned back around. “And I certainly don’t need to feel guiled into thinking I have done something wrong when I know perfectly well I’m doing exactly what I ought.”

  “Charity Grace Waite, are you snapping at me?”

  She glanced down at her slippers. “Possibly. I—forgive me. I find I’m overly emotional at the moment.”

  Lady Waite’s gaze softened. “And why do you think that is?”

  Charity chuckled. “It won’t work, Mama. I’m on to your tricks.”

  Her mother gathered up her skirts again and then linked her arm through Charity’s. The two ladies made their way up the stairs together.

  Lady Waite did not speak until she reached her daughter’s rooms. “One day you will understand the reasoning behind a woman’s ‘tricks,’ as you like to call them. Though, I think of them more as nudges in the right direction than a trick to be played.”

  “All of it is such an oddity. Do you realize he could’ve been my sibling?”

  Lady Waite shrugged. “But he is not, is he?” Leaning in, she kissed Charity on the cheek. “I’ll see you at supper, dear. And don’t you fret. All will turn out as it ought.”

  Then she was gone, leaving a very frustrated Charity to make sense of the mess. For it truly was, even if she was the only one to acknowledge it!

  CHAPTER NINE:

  Everett collected his phaeton from home. He pulled up in front of White’s and huffed as he sat down at his customary table. Lord Henry Perceval was already there and folded down the papers to see him.

  “I thought you were out driving a beautiful miss around Hyde Park today.”

  Everett glanced over. “Who told you?”

  “Hamson. You just missed him.” The corner of Henry’s mouth went up, and he let out a sudden guffaw.

  Everett leaned back in his seat. “It would be George. I doubt he would know how to keep his mouth shut if his lips were sewn together.”

  Perceval chuckled. “He had the most entertaining story to tell, though.” He adjusted himself more comfortably in his seat. “Something about a certain young lady schooling you, and you dumping a whole pitcher of lemonade over yourself.”

  “Bosh! As I said last night and will say again, I most certainly did not dump lemonade all over myself! Another designing miss did. And it was horridly sticky stuff, too.”

  “I have no doubt.” He shook his head, clearly still full of mirth. “Though, your way with ladies has me greatly astounded.”

  Everett chuckled and then motioned the waiter over. “I see how it is to be. You will now all mock me with false assumptions about the most pitiful night of my life until you meet my ghost!”

  “Most likely.” Perceval turned to the waiter and ordered drinks for them both. “Lord Atten will need all the uptick to his saddened spirits as he can get.”

  “What is this, now? I can order my own reprieve.”

  “Nay.” The older man waved his hand. “After all this and you sitting here in White’s instead of with a particular young lady around the park tells me you definitely need this treat.”

  Everett glanced out the window closest and shook his head slightly. She was there. Last night, it was—she was—they were everything. And then in a poof! She was gone again. Everyone said how women were difficult, but he had no notion what they were speaking of until right at that particular moment.

  “So why the long face?”

  Everett looked over at his friend and then felt his mouth turn down on its own accord. “Why must you assume something is wrong?”

  Perceval gave him a long look over his glass, and Everett squirmed like a schoolboy. “Very well. Everything was well last night. I even regrettably kissed the girl in the garden.”

  Henry’s eyebrows rose, but he thankfully did not speak a word.

  “’Tis true. And we made plans and everything was fascinating and a little bit dangerous and mysterious and she was delightful.”

  “Dangerous?” Henry took a long swallow of his drink. “What do you mean by dangerous? Who is this chit?”

  The waiter arrived and placed a glass at Everett’s elbow. He thanked the man and took a quick swig before answering. “Surely George told you the best part about this particular ‘forbidden’ young lady.”

  “Best part? That she rescued the damsel in distress?”

  Everett rolled his eyes
at Henry’s laughter. “Yes, he would mention that. But no, I was referring to something much more conflicting than that.”

  “Such as?” He brought his glass up.

  “She’s Herbert Waite’s daughter.”

  “What?” He spewed a fine mist of liquid over Everett’s jaw, cravat, and coat.

  Everett winced as he used his handkerchief to wipe it away. “Well done.”

  But Perceval was so wrapped up in the surprise, he must not have thought to apologize, or even pay attention to the mess he’d made. “Are you certain? The same miss you were to drive around Hyde Park was the very one whose papa would have you hanged?”

  “The very same. Another cravat ruined. Two days in a row now.” He mumbled a few choice words as he continued to mop up the mess. “Though why Lord Waite hated my father so much, I still don’t know.” He let out a sigh and tossed the handkerchief on the table. “And now it seems it does not matter overly much anyway.”

  “Miss Waite saved you, and you kissed her in the garden? Herbert Waite’s daughter?”

  “Yes. Have I not just said so?”

  “But Herbert Waite? The very sworn enemy of your father, and you have found his daughter the most delightful miss in all of London? It’s astounding!”

  Everett gave him a blank look. “Really, I’m shocked that George mentioned none of this to you.”

  “None! The swindler! How could he leave the juiciest part of the gossip out of it?”

  “Juiciest part of—my life has not been whittled down to patronizing chinwag.”

  “When it includes Miss Waite, it most definitely has!” He laughed and took another swallow. “I am anxious to see Lady Perceval’s looks when I tell her. She will no doubt fall off the settee when I do. Can you imagine?”

  “I have no idea why. Are you not listening, man? I have told you it does not matter. None of it does because as of this afternoon, the gel will not be seen with me anyway.”

  “Ah!” Perceval set his glass down and leaned against the back of his chair. “So this is why you have such a long face. You have finally met your match, and she’s gone a’running.”

  “I know she feels something for me. I know it, Henry. As much as I know anything. It was there—these, these feelings.” He shook his head.

  Henry nodded in a bit of seriousness. “Yes. My wife is always speaking about the sparkling fits of emotions that run through her when we kiss.”

  “Yes! That.” He thought about it for a moment. “I like that. Sparkling fits of emotions. That’s exactly what it feels like—it was there, I tell you. She was mine. I was going to court her and end this ridiculous feud forever.”

  Perceval shook his head again. “Impossible. You can’t end that feud. Far as I can tell, Herbert Waite is still in love with her.”

  Everett leaned forward. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “In love with whom? What are you speaking of?”

  “And now that your father is dead, it clears the way for everything.”

  Everett felt as though his head was spinning. “Clears the way for everything? What has my father got to do with this? Speak to me plainly, man! Do you know the truth behind this preposterous fighting?”

  If Everett lived to be two hundred years old, he would have never expected to hear the words that came from his friend’s mouth. Never.

  “Your father stole Lord Waite’s bride away from him the night before their wedding. Took your mother up to Greta Green and married her himself.”

  Everett blinked. “What?”

  “And the worst part was, up until that moment, Lord Waite and Cheswick were thick as thieves. The best of mates. All of that was gone the next morning when Herbert awoke to find that the love of his life had been seduced by another.”

  If Everett had not been sitting down, he would have fallen. “Do you think Miss Waite knows the truth now?”

  Henry tapped the top of the table. “I will answer frankly. If I knew my father had been in love with your mother for years and not his own wife, I would not come to the door to receive you either.”

  Everett collected his handkerchief and stood up.

  “Where are you going in this state? Sit back down and allow yourself to relax a little before venturing out into the wolves.”

  “No. I need to move and think about this. And most especially, I have to think why my father would ever do anything so cowardly, or my mother to allow him. It is beyond the pale.”

  Perceval scrambled to his feet. “Atten, I have never seen you look so fierce. Perhaps it is best if you remain with me a little while longer.”

  Everett gave a short nod. “Good day. Thank you for trusting me with the truth.” He turned on his heel and collected his hat from the man at the door before walking out. Tossing a coin to the lad holding his pair, Atten jumped atop the phaeton and took the reins. He would stop long enough to drop the coach off, and then collect General, his horse, and go for a long ride. Then just as quickly as that thought popped into his mind, he was reminded of a much better solution. Perhaps it was time to leave town and visit the country for a day or two.

  CHAPTER TEN:

  “Everett! It’s Everett! He’s come at last!” his small cousins cheered as Lord Atten made his way up the lane. They had come out to meet his horse and were all chatters and excitement. Whenever life had become unbearable, a trip to see the Bentleys made everything right again.

  Everett smiled as he dismounted. “Oh, look at you lot! My, how you’ve grown since winter!”

  “Did you bring us sweets?” asked four-year-old John, his red hair bouncing in the breeze as he jumped alongside him.

  The two other strapping lads of six and nine bounded up as well. “Yes, sweets!” they chanted.

  Everett rubbed their heads and grinned as he collected his bag from the saddle. “Of course! Do you honestly believe I could come to Chattlesgrove without a surprise or two? Now, let us go inside. Don’t want you boys eating it all and leaving the girls with none, do we?”

  “Mama!” shouted David, the nine-year-old, as he scurried past and into the large front door of the stately home. “Everett has come! He is here! He is here!” he hollered down the hall.

  Lord Atten handed his horse over to Peter, the groomsman, who had jogged up when he saw him arrive. “Thank you. I know I should have sent word, but it would’ve ruined the surprise.”

  Peter shook his head. “Don’t you worry about a thing. It’s just like Christmas every time you come, my lord.”

  “What?” called out his Aunt Charlotte. She ran toward the front door and popped her head out just as he made it to the step. “Why, you never said a word, you cheeky boy. Come and give me a hug.” She wrapped her arms around his bent shoulders and gave instructions on her tiptoes across his back. “Charles, be a good boy and get your father. He will be most happy to see Lord Atten. Oh! And David, go and fetch Emilia and Madeline. They’ve gone down by the stream to check on the fish traps. Tell them Everett is here.” She pulled away and looked up at him, then patted his cheeks like she always did. “’Tis so good to see you, my boy. So good to see you. I’ll be! You’re just as handsome as ever! Now, come in! Come in! We will have Lucy throw together some tea. You must be famished. Did you ride all the way from London?”

  When she paused, he chuckled. He always forgot how much he missed this place until he returned. He was one of the few lucky boys to be raised by Aunt Charlotte. He needed a nanny, and Charlotte needed a home. It was a very easy thing to allow his mother’s sister to live with them for those first few years. “Yes. Just this morning. Sorry, I would’ve sent word, but figured I’d get here faster than the post anyhow.”

  “Well, never mind any of that. You know you are always welcome. How long are you staying?”

  “No more than a night or two. I would not wish to impose.”

  “Nonsense!” She laughed and then abruptly became serious. “Everett? What is it? What bit of melancholy can I see in your eye? Are you running from something?”

&nbs
p; Even though she was like a second mother to him, it always astounded him when she could ascertain his thoughts so easily. He gave a smile and glanced down as John wrapped his arms around his leg.

  Charlotte waved a hand. “Goodness, we have time enough to discuss all the important things. Right now, let us bring the family together and tell me how everyone is getting on. Especially my dearest sister. Is she well?”

  “My mother is visiting a friend in Bath over the weekend and does not even know I am here, or I am certain she would’ve sent her regards.” He attempted to drag his leg with a giggling John as he followed his aunt into the drawing room.

  “If it isn’t the new earl!” exclaimed his Uncle Lucas as he joined them in the blue room. The large dark-haired man patted Everett’s back. “We have missed you. It’s been too long. Come in, come in. I had no idea you were here.”

  “I have only just arrived.”

  “And he’s brought us sweets!” Charles declared as he walked into the room.

  “Well, then!” His uncle shared a look with his aunt, and the two grinned. “We always love Everett’s sweets.”

  “Hey! They’re for us. You’re not children. You can eat as much as you like—we are little waifs who rarely get a treat.” David pouted.

  “Rarely?” His uncle nudged the boy out of his path. “Nonsense. Who is always trying to snitch seconds of dessert?”

  “Enough, both of you!” Aunt Charlotte chuckled as she pried John off Everett and then motioned for him to sit upon the largest sofa. “Allow our poor nephew to breathe a moment before we begin bickering again.”

  Everett shook his head in amazement. “’Tis the liveliest of houses.”

  “I would hope so.” His uncle sat across from him as a maid entered with a platter laden with tea things. “You cannot have five children and not be in the middle of jolly excitement at all times.”

  Jolly excitement. Lord Atten smiled as the two boys plopped down on either side of him. That would seem a very fitting description of life at the Bentley home.

  “And don’t forget a house full of caterwauling, too!” his aunt exclaimed as she sat and placed John on a seat next to her by the tea tray.