Silent Dreams

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Silent Dreams Page 5

by Monroe, Jennifer


  “That makes me feel much better. Now, we had best go speak to a few friends. Perhaps someone else will come our way.”

  Annabel smiled as she followed her aunt through the crowd. She searched the room until she found Lord Lockwood and the Spanish marquess speaking to one another. Would the two men fight for her? It was a silly thought that made her giggle. They were gentlemen and therefore would do no such thing. However, the best part of all of this was that the choice would be Annabel's as to which man she allowed to court her.

  ***

  Monday seemed an eternity away, but soon it arrived, and Annabel found herself pacing the drawing room floor as she waited for the arrival of Lord Lockwood. He was the first gentleman caller she had ever had—at least one close to her own age—and she thought it a grand occasion.

  She had taken special care in dressing—a yellow dress with white ribbons just below the bosom and threaded at the hem of the short sleeves. She had pinched her cheeks to bring out a natural blush and added the lightest of color to her lips, and by all outward appearances, she was prepared. Minus her pacing, of course. And her hand wringing. Oh, very well. She was not as calm on the outside as she could have been.

  Inside, her stomach was aflutter as every horrible scenario that could possibly happen ran through her mind. What if she said something wrong? Or she embarrassed herself by slurping her tea? She was not one to slurp her tea, but would this not be the most opportune, or rather the least opportune, moment to have it happen?

  “Annabel,” her aunt said, “the floors are quite thick and take much weight, but I fear you may wear the tiles down to the stone if you continue this pacing.”

  Annabel sighed. “I am afraid I am quite nervous. I am not as strong as you. Forgive me.” She looked down at her hands. The man had yet to arrive and she was already making a fool of herself.

  Her aunt rose from the sofa where she had been sitting and took Annabel by the hand. “There is no need for you to apologize. It is perfectly normal for a young lady to be nervous about a gentleman caller. You are a lady who knows how to conduct herself, and therefore, everything will go well.”

  “Thank you. It is just that I remember when Lord Agar…” She clamped her mouth shut, regretting bringing attention to the man’s name.

  “It is all right,” Aunt Eleanor said in a soothing tone. “What was it you were going to say?”

  Annabel sighed again. “On my birthday, Father and Mother told me I had a gentleman caller. It was he. I do not know why my parents allowed that man to be alone with me, but he kissed me, and I did not want him to.”

  Her aunt’s eyes flashed. “Did he do the same when he walked with you in the gardens here?”

  Annabel nodded, the shame overwhelming. “I hope you do not think ill of me. I did not wish it, nor did I request it.”

  “My dear Annabel,” her aunt said as she wrapped her arms around her. “I know I should not speak ill of your parents, but what they have done to you angers me to a degree I can never explain. Through all of this, I think better of you, not less.”

  “Do you?” Annabel asked in surprise.

  “Of course. Despite what you have been through, you have not allowed any of it to keep you from allowing other suitors to call. As to Lord Agar, the man can only wish to have a bride as beautiful as you. I can assure you that wish will never be granted as long as I have a say.”

  Annabel went to speak, but the door opened and Forbes entered the room. “Lord Richard Lockwood, Earl of Favorsharm, has arrived.”

  Her aunt nodded. “See him in.”

  Forbes moved aside, and Lord Lockwood entered, as handsome as he had been the night of the Thrup party. His blue coat sported black buttons and he wore a perfectly tied cravat about his neck. His ready smile added to the handsomeness of his face.

  “Lady Lambert,” he said with a bow. “Miss Annabel.” He bowed again. “Thank you for allowing me the privilege of calling on you.”

  “The privilege is all ours,” her aunt said. “Please, have a seat. I believe you will find the chair most comfortable.” She gave Annabel a nod, and Annabel sat on the sofa. “Forbes, please have a tray sent up. Tea and a few cakes, Lord Lockwood?”

  “Yes, please,” the man replied.

  Forbes bowed and left the room.

  Lord Lockwood waited for Annabel’s aunt to sit before taking the seat across from them. Despite his handsomely good looks, Annabel could not help but compare him to the marquess, whose elegance surpassed this man by leagues.

  How unfair of her to compare two men so different from one another! Lord Lockwood certainly had many good qualities that rivaled those of the marquess. Now if she could reason out which ones…

  “Miss Annabel,” the earl said, “in speaking with Lord Thrup, I came to understand that you and his daughter are close friends.”

  Annabel smiled, although she would never consider Caroline a close friend. “Indeed. We have known one another…”

  “I believe it is important for a lady to have friends,” he continued as if she had not spoken. “My mother and her friend, Lady Susanna Bulmont, have been friends for nearly forty years. That is an extraordinary length of time, would you not agree?”

  “Indeed. In fact…”

  “That is nearly half a century. People have been born and died in that amount of time, and yet they remain friends.”

  What a rude man! What was this infatuation with the friendship his mother and her friend maintained? And did the man ever allow a woman to speak?

  Thankfully, her aunt spoke just as Forbes returned with a tray. “Although long friendships are something of a treasure,” the woman said, “it is the quality of the person with whom one spends his or her time that is important.”

  “You are very wise, Lady Lambert. Friendships, partners in business, even marriage is like a fine wine. It must be appreciated at all times.”

  That had to be the oddest thing Annabel had ever heard! Fine wine indeed! However, when he smiled at her, she felt her cheeks heat.

  As he reached to take the teacup from her aunt, Annabel could not mistake the shake of his hand. Of course! The man was as nervous as she. No wonder he was so talkative and compared relationships to wine. For the first time since his arrival, the worry she had carried was replaced by confidence. She was not alone in her apprehension.

  “Many gentlemen of the ton are investing in wine these days,” she said as she stirred sugar into her tea. “Are you doing the same?”

  The man beamed and with a quick nod replied, “I am. There are vineyards in France in which I have invested.” When a bit of tea splashed over the rim of his cup, he sighed and returned it to the saucer. “Forgive me. I must admit that I am quite nervous. I have never called on a lady before today.”

  Annabel’s eyes widened. The man’s admission made her warm toward him. “Truly? Well, you will be pleased to know that you are the first gentleman to call on me.” She omitted that he was the first young gentleman to call on her.

  “Then we are both new to this,” he said with a nervous laugh. “I moved here recently, and I thought my age of one and twenty would be much too old to have any lady allow me to call. I am glad my fears were unjustified.” He smiled at Annabel, and she felt her cheeks heat once again.

  They spoke for some time about his arrival to Rumsbury, and before she knew it, he was rising to leave.

  “Forbes will see you out,” her aunt said once they gave their farewells.

  Annabel gave him a warm smile and glanced at his teacup. The poor man had been so nervous, he had not taken a single sip.

  “May I call again?” he asked as he wrung his hands.

  “Of course,” her aunt replied. “Annabel’s schedule will be quite busy in the coming months, but we would welcome a card from you.”

  He bowed. “I will most definitely send a card,” he said. Then he turned to Annabel. “Thank you for our wonderful conversation today.” He took a step forward, took her hand, and placed his lips to her kn
uckles. “I have enjoyed it immensely.”

  She smiled, but when she detected the faint odor of brandy, she frowned. Who would be drinking so early in the day?

  Rather than comment, however, she said, “It was an enjoyable afternoon. Thank you for coming.”

  With a polite nod, the man turned and allowed Forbes to lead him from the room.

  “What an interesting man,” her aunt said once the door was closed. “What did you think of him?”

  “At first I found him quite rude when he continuously spoke over me,” Annabel replied. “Yet, although he continued to dominate the conversation, I believe he did so because he was nervous.” Even as she said this, however, another thought came to mind. If the man had taken a drink to calm his nerves before seeing her, why did he continue to shake?

  “I believe you are right,” her aunt said. “We shall wait for another card. And do not forget that in three days the marquess will call, this Don Ricardo Ramirez Sanchez. Or was it Sanchez Ramirez? The Spaniards and their names.” She shook her head.

  At the mention of the man’s name, Annabel felt her entire face heat and she studied her teacup to keep from looking at her aunt’s face. “I am interested in speaking to him again. A man from Spain and an adviser to the king who thought I was a princess will be an intrigue to say the least.”

  “I believe the man has a good eye,” her aunt said. Annabel giggled and embraced the woman. “Now, we must dress for dinner.”

  Annabel made her way to her room and sat at her vanity table. Looking at her reflection, she smiled. For the first time she thought herself beautiful and she had two gentlemen wishing to call on her. Her life was changing, and she saw a wonderful future ahead of her.

  Chapter Six

  Annabel thought of Lord Lockwood’s story of his mother and her close friend of forty years as she walked beside Caroline Thrup. It had been two days since Lord Lockwood had called on Annabel, and Caroline had invited Annabel to spend the day with her and returned to Scarlett Hall the following morning.

  They had taken a carriage into Rumsbury, and Annabel pretended to listen as they walked down the busy footpath. She could not imagine she and Caroline being friends for so many years. It was not that Annabel disliked her, but Caroline had a propensity for carrying on with stories, just as she did now, and they were nowhere near as exciting as those Juliet told.

  “Father had several friends stay at our home,” Caroline was saying about the party. “I caught his friend, Lord Melshim, watching me several times that night.”

  Annabel stopped and stared at the woman, the white skirts of her dress swaying around her. “You are not telling me a tale, are you?”

  Caroline gave her an indignant look and pulled at the top of one of her white gloves. “I am doing no such thing. The man was drunk, but not only did he make clear his wishes, he whispered them to me directly.” She leaned forward and added, “He let it be known that his wife is away at her mother’s for two months and that he has money to spend on fine gifts for a woman willing to accept them.”

  Annabel clicked her tongue. “The man is married and a baron. Surely he did not say such a thing!”

  Caroline went to respond but then gasped. “Look!”

  Annabel had not realized where they had stopped. “The cobbler’s,” she whispered, peering through the now dark window of the shop. No one had taken over after what had happened, many whispering that it was now cursed.

  “To think that the man touched my leg as he did,” Caroline said with a sniff. “And then what he did to Juliet. I am glad he is now in prison.”

  “As am I,” Annabel replied, remembering the times she and Juliet came to visit the man. It seemed many years ago, and yet it had only been a few months. Robert Mullens, the cobbler, had sent Juliet on an errand, and while her cousin was gone, the man had threatened Annabel in order to steal a kiss from her. When Juliet learned of this terrible deed, she had seen that the rogue got what he deserved.

  However, the cost had been too great, for Juliet was forced to leave Scarlett Hall. At least she was happy in her marriage to Daniel. It was strange imagining Juliet, who had spent countless hours obsessed with her aristocratic lineage to now be married to a stable boy.

  Caroline touched her arm, and Annabel nearly jumped out of her skin. “Are you all right? I did not mean to upset you by mentioning this place.”

  “No, I am fine.” Although the woman was a gossip and a teller of tales, Annabel could not stop the sense of guilt from washing over her. Caroline had warned them of the cobbler, and they had dismissed her story outright. “When you told Juliet and me about what the man did to you, I must admit I did not believe you. I realize now you were telling the truth, and I ask that you forgive me.”

  Caroline gave her a sad look. “When I called you plain, I did so because I was jealous of you. My words were cruel, and I do not ever wish to hurt you again. You have always been a good friend, and I know I have not reciprocated that friendship very well.”

  Annabel stared at the woman in shock, but when Caroline threw her arms around her, Annabel could not help but wonder if the Apocalypse was upon them.

  Juliet will never believe this! Despite her shock, she whispered, “I feel as if we have just become better friends.”

  “I was thinking the same,” Caroline said. “I will trust you with my secrets, and you may trust me with yours.”

  Annabel nodded, but she knew there were some secrets that even those closest to her could never know. “I would like that. Shall we go to the millinery? I would like to be away from this place.”

  Caroline nodded. “Yes, I do not like it here, either. Nor do I wish to lay eyes upon it again.”

  “Neither do I,” Annabel admitted, although she knew they would pass by it many more times before someone else took over the shop. “It is a place of the past, and I have made the decision to look only to the future.”

  ***

  They spent nearly an hour in the millinery looking through various catalogs until they each found a new hat without which they could not live. They would be delivered to their homes the following week, and Annabel could not wait to wear it. She had chosen one that would match her blue pelisse coat quite well, and she had the perfect ribbons to add to it to match her gloves.

  As they left the shop, Annabel smiled as the rays of the sun warmed her.

  “Annabel, look!” Caroline said in a hurried whisper. “It is the marquess. I cannot believe how handsome he is; far more handsome than Reuben could ever hope to be.”

  Annabel nodded as she watched the man walk down the footpath on the opposite side of the street. He once again wore his red sash over his coat, but he did not seem to notice that everyone else was watching him. Then, much to her joy, the man turned and smiled when he saw her.

  As he crossed the street, Annabel asked, “Caroline! My dress, my hair? How do I look?”

  Caroline nodded. “You look fine.”

  The marquess walked up to them and bowed. “Miss Lambert, Miss Thrup, a pleasant day made brighter when I laid eyes upon you both.”

  Caroline giggled, and Annabel felt even her ears burn.

  “It is a wonderful day, Lord…or rather Don…my apologies. How do I address you?” Annabel was surprised her voice did not break.

  “You may address me as Don Ricardo,” the marquess said. “It is much easier than Don Sánchez Ramírez.”

  Annabel smiled. “Yes, I suppose it is. Are you in town on business?”

  “I am.”

  An older couple walked past them, and the woman turned to glance back at the marquess before her husband clicked his tongue and hurried her away.

  The marquess did not seem to notice. “Are you familiar with The House of Mercy Charitable Home?”

  “I am,” Caroline replied in a high-pitched voice, clearly more nervous than even Annabel. “Mother makes a contribution every year. It is a home for orphaned children I believe.”

  Don Ricardo smiled. “That is correct, Miss T
hrup. Every year, I donate five percent of my business earnings to charity. When I learned of the place, I decided they would be the recipient of the funds this year—and for however long I remain in Rumsbury.”

  Annabel sighed. The man was perfect! He was kind, did not attempt to dominate the conversation, and he donated to charity! Tomorrow, he would call on her, the woman he mistook for a princess.

  Without warning, her mind drifted to imagining herself as such. She was in a meadow, a tiara fit for a princess atop her head, and Don Ricardo rode toward her on a white stallion. Speaking words of love, he placed his hands around her waist and pulled her into the saddle, and she sat back with her head resting on his broad chest. They would ride through the rolling hills of green, surrounded by flowers as he whispered words of love in her ear, his strong arms wrapped around her keeping her safely in the saddle.

  “Annabel,” Caroline hissed, causing her daydream to wink out. “He asked you a question.”

  Annabel widened her eyes. “My apologies. Will you please repeat what you asked?”

  The marquess chuckled, a light sound that had not a note of mocking to it. “Of course. But before I do, may we walk together?”

  She glanced around them. Walking with a man in public could be taken as a sign of courting, and although she enjoyed entertaining the thought, she did not want to be presumptuous. Yet, the man was a marquess, and perhaps walking with a gentleman did not mean the same thing in Spain.

  “Yes, I would like that,” she replied.

  Caroline gasped, but Annabel ignored her.

  Don Ricardo offered his arm, and Annabel placed a hand on it. Then it occurred to her that rumors concerning her and this man would be far better than any that included her and Lord Agar.

  “One of the many things I enjoy is to gaze at the stars at night. And you? Do you enjoy the stars?”

  “Why, yes,” Annabel replied before Caroline attempted to commandeer the conversation. “I do so quite often, in fact. Many times from my bedroom window.”

 

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