by Tamara Gill
“More than anything, but I won’t.” He sighed, then pushed the door open and stepped from the vehicle. “Are you attending the DeVeres’ ball tomorrow evening?”
Lizzie nodded. “I am, yes. Lord and Lady Leighton are chaperoning me. Mama has caught a cold and wishes to remain at our country estate for the time being.”
He bowed, shutting the door with a thud. “Well then, I shall see you there. Goodnight.”
She called out for the driver to drive on. Oh, what was she going to do with him? However was she supposed to remain chaste, when simply one look from him and she melted like Gunther’s Ices on a hot summer’s day?
“Goodnight Lord Wakely,” she said, laughing when he yelled out on the street “Hugo” before the equipage turned a corner and she lost sight of him.
Chapter 9
Lizzie stood beside Sally at the DeVeres’ ball and watched as Lord Wakely danced a minuet with Miss Fox. What a beautiful woman she was–tall, dark, her skin as flawless as milk. And yet when one came close enough to her, there was no denying that her eyes were as cold as ice.
For a moment she wondered if she’d made the right choice telling his lordship that they could remain friends, but that was all. If he didn’t offer for anyone before the end of the Season, then she would know his words were true and maybe they could start anew.
The Marquess of Mongrove bowed before her friend and soon they were off, dancing the minuet as well. Lizzie stood alone for a time before her cousin Lord Leighton joined her, with his wife Katherine by his side.
His lordship offered her a glass of champagne, which she took gratefully. “You look awfully downcast, my dear. Is something the matter?” he asked, frowning a little.
“In all honesty, I am troubled.” And if she didn’t speak to someone about it soon she would drive herself insane with her own second guessing.
“What is it, Lizzie?” Kat asked, pulling her toward a small settee that sat along the wall and getting her to sit.
Lizzie took a fortifying sip of her champagne. “I’m sure it has not escaped your notice that no one is courting me. I fear that unless they know of the fortune, my circumstances will not change, and I do not know what else to do. I don’t want a fortune hunter, but I also don’t want to marry in my dotage.” The minuet finished, and Lizzie spied Lord Wakely escorting Miss Fox to her parents, who seemed all too eager to have him with them again.
“As I said six years ago, a man who marries you without a dowry will be marrying you because of how much he loves you, not your pocketbook. Trust that the right man will throw all else aside to have you as his wife. You’re worth more than your fortune,” Lord Leighton declared, gaining a small smile from his wife.
“I agree,” Kat said, taking her hand. “And I must admit that it makes no sense that you’ve had no callers. Why only last week Lord Lumley enquired about you, and from what I know of that gentleman, he has a fortune of his own.”
Lord Leighton stared down at them, a scowl on his face. “Now that you mention it, it is very odd, is it not? Six years since your debut and not one offer. Let me make some enquiries into this and see if I can find out why you’re not marriage material.”
Lizzie gasped, having not expected her cousin to be so blunt.
“Hamish, that was unkind. Apologize to Lizzie.”
His wife’s words seemed to pull him from his thoughts and he met her gaze. “Oh, I am sorry, my dear. I didn’t mean to make you upset. But women marry men all the time without fortunes, and your family is well connected, so it cannot be that reason. So, there must be something else that’s impeding your options.”
Lizzie shrugged, then looked up to see Lord Wakely talking to a group of young bucks, one of them Lord Lumley, who her cousin had just mentioned. Hugo met and held her gaze across the ballroom floor, and she shivered. He was so very intense, his eyes all but screamed with heat, and from where she sat even she could feel the warmth.
She tore her gaze from Lord Wakely. “Promise me that if I do not find the right man to be my husband, you’ll allow me to do whatever I want with my fortune. After six years gracing Almack’s wooden boards, I think it’s the least you can promise,” Lizzie said, only half joking.
Lord Leighton bowed, grinning. “You may, my dear. I would not deny you your wish.”
Lizzie caught sight of Lord Wakely excusing himself from his friends, before he strode purposefully toward them. Butterflies took flight in her stomach and she nodded in welcome. He bowed, taking her hand and kissing it lightly.
“We meet again, Miss Doherty.” His lordship shook Lord Leighton’s hand and spoke quickly to Katherine.
“Good evening, Lord Wakely. I see you’ve dragged yourself away from your friends long enough to speak to us. How fortunate we are,” Katherine said, grinning up at the gentleman. Lizzie smiled, liking the fact that Kat only spoke the truth, even if it was blunt.
“Ah yes, I have been busy, but I’m here now, and with permission from both you and Lord Leighton I would like to ask Miss Doherty to supper.”
Lord Leighton gave his consent and Lizzie stood, seeing no harm in it. They were to be friends after all, she reminded herself. “I would like that, thank you.”
Lord Wakely took her arm and they made their way toward where others were going to dine before the other half of the ball commenced. He sat her hand atop his arm and placed his firmly on top, eliminating any chance of escape. Not that she was looking to go anywhere.
Lizzie took in his very fine assortment of clothing that from memory covered a very hard, well-defined body. His black satin knee breeches and white stockings accentuated his legs. His dark blue superfine coat with tails showed off his considerable strong shoulders that could lift her without a moment’s hesitation. And had done so beneath Lady X’s staircase before he had hauled her up against the wall.
He glanced down at her and held her captive with his eyes, and she fought to remind herself why she’d told him they were to remain friends until his sincerity was proven.
A discreet cough brought Lizzie to a halt, and she dipped into a curtsy when the Duchess of Athelby stood before them, an amused lift to her lips. Sally’s mama stood beside her grace, the ladies’ inspection of Lord Wakely thorough. Both women were formidable influences within the ton and over the past few years Lizzie had come to rely on the duchess’s advice whenever she needed a different opinion.
“Your Grace, Mrs. Darwin, you know Lord Wakely. He was just escorting me to supper. Would you care to join us?” she offered, not wanting them to think any more of her being with his lordship than they probably were already. They were friends, and would remain so. The fact that they had shared a passionate kiss meant absolutely nothing.
He bowed, but never ventured to take his hand off hers on his arm. The duchess gave the clasp a marked stare, before raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow.
“Lizzie, I’m so glad to see you tonight. It has been too long. I hope Lord Wakely is being a considerate escort to supper. I would hate to hear otherwise,” the duchess said, her words friendly but with a thread of steel lingering within the tone.
Lizzie waved the duchess’s concerns away. “Of course he is. We were just talking about how the DeVeres have the best lobster patties available during supper, and how we should rush to ensure we don’t miss out.”
“I’m sure you have nothing to concern yourselves with. Supper hasn’t been announced yet, so you’re a little early.” The duchess waved a fan idly before her face and Lizzie wished she had one in her keeping, since her cheeks were decidedly warm and getting warmer by the minute.
Mrs. Darwin turned her attention to Lord Wakely, her eyes narrowing in thought. “I heard about town the oddest rumor about you, Lord Wakely. That you’re about to be married and that your uncle is already crossing the Atlantic as we speak. Is there something you wish to tell us? We would so love to be the first to know.”
Hugo tensed under Lizzie’s hold, and not for the first time she wondered herself if he was in
fact courting Miss Fox whilst also paying attention to her. But then, they were friends. Perhaps he simply liked her company, since they seemed to get along well enough when together. She had no claim on him, even if she’d dearly love to have one if he were to prove worthy.
“I am not engaged, nor is there any understanding. I’m simply enjoying the Season and looking forward to my uncle’s visit. As you know, with my father’s death twelve months ago I’ve had no near family remaining in England.”
Lizzie felt a pang of sadness toward his lordship at his reply. She too had lost her father, and even as meddling and annoying as her mother was, at least she still had one parent left. Was Lord Wakely lonely? Was that why he sought the company of parties of Lady X’s caliber, where he knew he would have good company both in public and private?
“I’m glad that your uncle is coming,” the duchess said sincerely. “We look forward to meeting him when he eventually arrives.”
Mrs. Darwin smiled at Lord Wakely before saying, “We missed you at Lady Remmnick’s house party, but on our return to London we stopped at a delightful inn and I thought I saw you changing horses. Were you nearby?”
His lordship threw Mrs. Darwin an amused glance and heat rose on Lizzie’s cheeks. “I was in attendance at another house party, yes. I hope you found the break from London to your satisfaction?”
The duchess’s attention snapped to Lizzie and she raised her chin, not wanting to look as guilty as she felt.
“It was very enjoyable. And your house party, my lord?” the duchess asked, watching them with such inspection that Lizzie couldn’t help but feel the duchess knew something was being hidden from her.
“It was most enlightening and pleasurable, your grace.” Lord Wakely’s clasp on Lizzie’s hand tightened, and it shot heat straight to her core. She swallowed, fighting the need to flee, to run away from all these questions.
“Shall we find a table, Miss Doherty?” his lordship asked.
The duchess and Mrs. Darwin moved aside, and they moved on.
“What a stroke of luck that we ended up at the same house party. Did you enjoy the festivities as much as I did? I never asked before.” His whispered words tickled the side of her neck, reminding her of his kisses upon the very spot.
“I may have,” she answered honestly. In fact, the few times she’d spent in Lord Wakely’s arms were something she was never likely to forget. Even now, the pull to be alone with him, kiss him again, touch him and enjoy every nuance that made up who he was, was almost impossible to ignore.
The viscount laughed, covering it with a cough. “May have? Are you trying to tell me my seductive wiles are lacking? If so, we can remedy that. You only have to say the word and I’m at your disposal.”
Lizzie schooled her features to be less shocked. She bit her lip as the overwhelming feeling she was playing with fire and with a man who was too worldly for her rushed to the forefront of her mind. “Another time perhaps. I see the lobster patties are available tonight. You did mention before that you’re desperate to have some again,” she said, dissembling.
He pulled her to a stop and caught her gaze. The heat that resonated from his attention made her tremble. What was it about him that brought forth these wonderful but odd emotions to riot inside? His chiseled jaw, perfect olive complexion, and dark hair made him one of the most heart-stopping rogues in the ton. And right now his attention was fixed on her. Lizzie swallowed, her gaze sliding to his lips.
“I will hold you to that statement, Miss Doherty.”
She nodded, unable to do anything else. How did one answer such a declaration without giving away just how much she wanted him to hold her to it? And if he did not, she would hold herself to honor what she’d said. For if one thing was certain, she would kiss Lord Wakely again if it were the last thing she did.
Chapter 10
House calls were not something Lord Wakely did. Ever. And yet the following afternoon, Hugo found himself standing before Lord Leighton’s townhouse, about to be ushered indoors to partake in an hour of frivolous discussions about nothing of particular interest, other than Miss Doherty, who was of very particular interest to him.
Somehow after their time together in the country she’d awoken a part of him that he’d never thought existed. He was a viscount with a terrible reputation. If he had any desire to hold onto his fortune, he ought to be knocking on Miss Fox’s door right at this very moment and courting her. But he could not pull himself away to do so. There was something between him and Lizzie, more than a physical attraction, although that was certainly there as well.
She made him laugh, found situations amusing just like himself. Was happy to have a bit of fun. Her attendance at Lady X’s house party was proof of that, but also, the day they’d played billiards, she’d not acted the retiring lady who couldn’t possibly play a game generally only men would partake in. Not only had she stepped up to the competition, but she’d been an exceptional player and had looked delightful bending over the table.
Lizzie had a direction for her future. Whether that included a husband would be anyone’s guess, but something told him she would be perfectly capable of living the spinster life and becoming quite fond of it. Miss Fox had never been very particular toward him–she showed as much interest in him as he did in her, and it gave him pause. Lizzie had showed him there could be so much more between a husband and wife, which drove home just how much he’d want his marriage to resemble that of his friends’ love matches.
He needed to kiss her again, if only once, to know if his desire for her was simply a one-off emotion or if each time they kissed he’d want nothing more than to do it again.
If what he suspected was true, and Lizzie would suit his character much better than Miss Fox, he would petition his uncle to forgo the inheritance that was set to revert to him at the end of July. Surely the love his uncle had for his sister, and for her child, would outweigh his need of money.
Hugo rapped the knocker on the front door and it opened without delay. He strode into the entrance hall, handing the footman his coat and gloves. An elderly butler stepped forward and bowed.
“Lord Wakely, if you would be so kind as to follow me, the at home is being held in the front sitting room today.”
Hugo followed the old retainer, bracing himself for a flurry of gasps and gossip when he entered the room. The butler announced him, and Hugo halted just beyond the threshold as an army of startled female eyes, gaping mouths, and amused expressions met his appearance. He took in the room, seeking out Miss Doherty, and inwardly cringed at seeing her mother seated beside her. When had she returned to town?
Hugo steeled his resolve. He’d faced worse challenges in his life–a room full of women and a bedevilling mother was nothing to be terrified of.
Mrs. Doherty stood and curtsied. “Lord Wakely, welcome. Please, come be seated by us,” she said, gesturing to a vacant chair before them.
Hugo did as she bade, welcoming a cup of tea that Miss Doherty handed him, her small smile of welcome warming his blood.
“We’re very happy you decided to join us this afternoon, are we not, Lizzie?” Mrs. Doherty said, sitting back down and smiling between them both.
Lizzie took a sip of her tea. “You are most welcome, Lord Wakely.” Her welcome was benign enough, but Hugo could hear that she actually meant her words and was pleased to see him. A little warning bell went off in his mind that he was toying with her, giving her false hopes where there might be none, and yet he couldn’t stay away from her. He’d never reacted to anyone in the way that he reacted to Miss Doherty. No matter the consequences, he had to see if their chemistry was a figment of his imagination or something he could discuss with his uncle, beseech him to leave Hugo with the funds that should rightfully be his in any case. If his uncle would allow him to choose a wife he felt some affection towards, not one who had a fortune and would marry him before the month was out.
“Did you enjoy the ball last evening, Miss Doherty? I heard this morning
that it ended after dawn.”
Lizzie laughed, and her eyes brightened with amusement. “I did, my lord, and I can assure you, as I was one of the last to leave the entertainment, that it did indeed end as the sun kissed the morning sky.”
“You did not stay, Lord Wakely?” Mrs. Doherty asked.
Hugo shook his head. “Alas no, I had another engagement to attend.” And not one that he wished to elaborate on here and now, or ever, if he were honest.
Lady Leighton came over and stood behind Lizzie’s chair, joining their conversation. “You attended Miss Fox’s soiree, I understand,” she said, her words tinged with an edge of reproach.
Hugo smiled, taking a sip of his tea. “That’s right, and the event was overcrowded. I did not stay long.” Only long enough to dance with Miss Fox and then depart. Lady Leighton watched him, and he fought to remember if she had been in attendance. Did she know he had danced with Miss Fox? He was a cad, keeping his options open in such a way. Panic tore through him that what he was doing was wrong. Not just to Lizzie, but to Miss Fox also, and he couldn’t continue down this line of untruths.
If he told Lizzie his predicament, would she understand? If only he could get her away from here, talk to her privately.
“If you would excuse me. My friend Sally has just arrived, and I need to speak with her.”
Hugo stood when Lizzie did and, bowing, watched her leave him with her mother and cousin by marriage. He placed down his cup of tea, not wishing to stay with Lizzie occupied elsewhere. “It is time I left as well. Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Doherty, Lady Leighton. I shall see myself out.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Wakely,” her ladyship said, her tone no better than before.
Hugo left, and while making his way to the entrance hall found Lord Leighton hanging about the staircase. “Hugo,” he said, coming over and shaking his hand. “It’s good to see you. Come, I need to speak to you. We can talk in my library.”
