Almost instantly, a voice boomed through the vast entrance hall.
“Liam! What brings my dear nephew and countryman here at this hour?”
Liam smiled as he was enveloped in an embrace that was entirely unfitting and was nonetheless extremely welcome.
“Hello, Uncle Errol. It's a pleasure to see you.”
“I know it is!” Errol grinned. “What I want to know is why you are here, at this hour, to visit me? I would have thought you were out playing cards or debauching yourself like good young men should?”
Liam sighed, shaking his head and grinning. “Uncle, I am sure you know me well enough to know the answer to that?”
“I know of no such answer!” His uncle grinned, shaking a long finger at him. “When I was your age...”
“Very well,” Liam said, forestalling tales of the older man's prowess. “I must remind you that I have sufficient imagination to fill in all the details,” he said, and grinned.
“Oh, my!” His uncle let out an enormous laugh, and clapped him on the shoulder. “That is a warning! My poor nephew – sufficient imaginings would surely strike a lesser man blind!”
Liam laughed. “It's good to see you, Uncle.”
“I am glad to hear it, young sir. Now, come and join me for a drink and tell me all about it.”
Seated in the vast parlor by the fire, the flames dancing off the walls as his uncle stoked the blaze, a glass of whiskey in his hands – the finest Irish malt, probably straight down from his uncle's cellars at home – Liam finally relaxed.
“Uncle,” he said quietly, “I... I met a girl and she... I think she was being insincere with me. She seemed... so perfect! And now I hear she is being courted? I want to know: why did she play with me like that? Does she pity me, or think me desperate? Or perhaps so insignificant that she can trifle with me?”
“Whoa, there, young man,” Errol said hastily. “You met a girl? Tell me about it. If you don't mind, that is. What was her manner with you when you met her?”
“She was... shy. But friendly. Open,” Liam explained.
Uncle Errol looked at him for a second or two, then lifted the second glass of whiskey, drank some and then answered from before the grate as he stoked the fireplace.
“She likes you. Trust me. If she led you on there is only one reason – because she does like you. This chap she's courting, or's being courted by, more likely... How do you know she likes him?”
Liam blinked. “I don't.”
“Then,” his uncle said with a shade of exasperation in his voice, standing before him again, “why are you worrying? There's nothing to worry about!”
Liam shook his head. “How do you know that, Uncle?”
His uncle blinked. “I just know. Contrary people, women generally... I never could guess what they were thinking!” He chuckled. “But one thing I can tell you, from what I knew of your mother, and my own... if she was insincere, she wouldn't have stuck around as long as she did. And have you ever seen her with this other bloke? No? So why do you think she likes him, and not you?”
“I...” Liam stammered. “I don't know. Now that you say it, I suppose I don't know. But I just... assumed it, because...” He trailed off quietly.
“Because you're a scarred old devil and you think you're ugly.” His uncle finished mercilessly.
Liam blinked. “I... I wouldn't have quite said it so baldly. But yes.”
His uncle laughed. “At least we are at the same place of understanding, my dear nephew! But you need to learn that it doesn't matter. Scarred devil or not, people still like you for who you are.”
Liam looked down. He watched the flames dancing in the grate, and was surprised when the orange and gold blurred in the reflection from his tears.
“I...” he sighed. “I wish that was true. I want to believe you.”
“Believe me.” His uncle grinned. “Any reason not to?”
Liam chuckled. “I can think of plenty, you dear inveterate liar.” The two laughed together at their old sparring. They teased each other mercilessly, which meant they were also some of the few people who granted each other the luxury of truth.
“Now, then,” his uncle sighed, wiping a tear from his own eye as he stopped laughing, “why don't you attend my ball this weekend?”
Liam sat upright as if he had been hit. “Uncle? I cannot! You know that...”
“Why not?” his uncle asked, lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I can think of no reason why a handsome, healthy, well-raised and noble man should not attend a ball at my house! I will have plenty of rude, scruffy, curmudgeonly types there, too – why not you, to add some fineness?”
Liam snorted. “I would do my best, Uncle. But I am not sure I have the fineness to contribute?”
“We could find out?” His uncle grinned. “What would you lose?”
Liam shifted uncomfortably. He absolutely did not want to face the possibility of large crowds of people – he had not attended a public ball or party since his return home. But he could not argue with his uncle – there was not a single reason why he should not do it. He just hated the very thought of it. He could not help thinking that if she – Ada – were to be there, he would attend.
And Ada might not think as badly of me as I think. She might like me.
The thought was like a flame in his chest, warming and lighting a heart that had been frozen. He talked a while longer with his uncle and then left, feeling better than he had in a long time.
“Right,” his uncle said, when they had finished talking. “So, what do you plan to do?”
“I will... write to her?” Liam said brightly. “Explain why I walked out and left so fast? Say why I am avoiding her?”
His uncle snorted. “Talk to her about it! If she just wrote, would you think her sincere?”
“Mayhap...”
“Write to her, by all means! But do try and see her. She'll believe you, then, and you'll believe her. If she's really interested in this other chap, why would she even see you? Consider it, at least?”
“I shall,” Liam said, feeling his heart thudding in his chest, hope taking the place of misery. “I shall.”
“Anytime you want a party, let me know,” Errol added kindly. “I can organize a small gathering here, and invite you both...”
Liam felt his throat constrict. Even small gatherings terrified him: the enquiring looks on people's faces, the pitiful glances of young ladies, the scorn of others that he was thirty, a duke, and unwed. He hated parties and his uncle must know it!
“I...” he stammered, swallowing a lump that blocked his throat.
“Think about it, young man,” was all his uncle said.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A BALL TO REMEMBER
A BALL TO REMEMBER
Ada paced restlessly around her bedchamber.
“I wish I wasn't going,” she sighed to herself.
The dress she wore was exquisite – slate-blue and full length, the chiffon overlay of the skirt giving it a subtle fullness. The jewelry complemented it perfectly, and the whole appearance was completed with an elegant hairstyle, her curls held in place with pearl-ended fasteners. I should feel like a princess, but I feel wretched.
She breathed in a scent of irises, the perfume Roderick had brought back for her from the Continent. It added to the beauty of the dress and should have made it more special. Instead it hurt her more. He should be here to see me like this. But I am sure he will never want to see me again.
Liam thought she was in love with Oscar. He would never trust her again.
“Oh, you are ready! And you look beautiful!” Henriette exclaimed from the door. “I should trust your judgement more – that blue is perfect for you!”
Ada smiled, but it was a wan smile. She could not quite forgive Henriette for what she thought of as a betrayal.
Nonetheless, it was hard to be angry with Henriette for long. She looked so vital, wearing a saffron-yellow gown, so rich and deep that it screamed expense. It was extre
mely tasteful, the silk skirt long and simple, sweeping from a high waist, the neckline a simple oval. She wore her black hair curling to frame her face and partly-hidden by a saffron turban. She looked exotic and lovely.
“Come on, then!” Henriette said excitedly. “Let's go.”
The music was already flowing from the hall when Ada and her party arrived at Lady Winthrope's ball. Held in one of the most beautiful venues in Town, the excitement was like a cloud around the place. As Ada and Henriette crossed the threshold, they were swept away by the golden warmth of the place, the sparkling chandeliers, the light. Even Ada felt her spirits lift with its magical aura, carried on gentle chatter, the sweet sound of violins and the scent of perfume.
“Lady Ada! Welcome...”
Ada curtseyed to the host and hostess, and then crossed the marble floor into the vast hall. She could smell rosewater and the scintillating scent of champagne, and the hall was filled with genteel voices.
“Ada!”
Ada looked up to see Toby, standing behind Alicia and Leo, grinning at her.
“Lord Tobias!” She smiled. “It is a pleasure to see you here!”
“I am honored, my lady.” Toby bowed smartly. He was wearing his military uniform, all red and white and gold. Ada blinked. She had never seen him wearing it before.
“It is a change to see you... in your official capacity,” she said archly, indicating his uniform. The russet-haired young man blushed and looked away.
“I like thinking of it as my official capacity, mind... makes it less aggressive somehow.”
Ada blinked. She had never thought about uniforms as aggressive. At every ball, at least half the young men were officers, and she always considered it as their career or their duty, not stopping to think about what it meant, or about how it made them feel.
“I would never think of you as aggressive, Lord Tobias,” she said gently. Toby laughed. “It would be an awful reflection on my manners were you to do so.”
Ada chuckled. “I cannot imagine you wielding that at banquets, no,” she agreed, indicating the sword that hung at his side.
Toby roared with mirth. “I promise you, Lady Ada, I shall do my best to carve the pie with it next time we have tea, if only to see your expression.”
Ada giggled. Toby was a funny fellow – she could see why Liam liked him so well. He acted like a brother to her, and she felt much that way about him. At that moment, she sensed a pair of eyes on her from across the room, and turned, but could see no one there.
“Is your... friend attending with us this evening?” she asked Toby, a flame suddenly kindling in her heart against all expectation. He hates balls and parties! He can't be here. Why would he? But...
“I think he may be here,” Toby said carefully.
Ada laughed. “He is here? Truly? It seems beyond belief!”
Toby saw the look of pleasure on her face and smiled. “It is extremely rare. In fact, if I may say so, my lady, it is entirely without precedent. I have never known him attend a ball since...” He bit his lip, suddenly quiet.
“Since the battle when he was scarred?” Ada guessed.
Toby nodded. “You have noticed it, of course. And the way he hides himself away.”
“Yes,” Ada said at once.
“And what think you of it, if I may ask?”
“I think...” Ada bit her lip. This was awkward ground, and she did not want to offend, but nor did she want to betray her depth of feeling. “I think it is sad, Lord Tobias. Your friend is... kind and of quick wit, and it is a shame he chooses to hide himself from human company. We would benefit from him. It is not so great a scar. I have seen worse.”
Toby stared at her, breathlessly. “My lady, if only I could tell him what you said! I could not have said it better myself. He torments himself with, as you say, his aggression in warfare. He cannot forgive himself for having become... what we were meant to be. It is at least partly the guilt he feels that makes him remove himself from polite company.”
“I did not know,” Ada said, wide-eyed. “I should have known. He has never worn his uniform, or mentioned it...”
“That is correct,” Toby said quietly. “He hates himself for what he was made to do there, when we served together in the East.”
“I did not know,” Ada said again, gently. “But thank you, Lord Tobias, for telling me. I needed to know that. I thought it could not be the scar alone.”
“Thank you, my lady, for understanding,” Toby said gently. “Your insights are something I wish I could express to him.”
“Thank you,” Ada said, feeling slightly shy. “I hope you will express them – we could do with someone persuading him into society! I like his company and would not be deprived of it.”
“I will be sure to pass that on,” Toby said, smiling.
Ada blushed, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh, Lord Toby! Do not tell him I said anything about it...”
“My lady,” Toby said gently, resting a brotherly hand on her shoulder, “I promise. Of course, I shall not. I shall not betray your confidence.”
“It was not a confidence...” Ada murmured, and then realized that it was. She had, without really even thinking about it, just admitted a depth of feeling for Lord Liam. Part of her was shocked, but part of her wished he knew, and almost wished Toby would tell him what she had said. But he was turning away, talking to Lady Abermale, and the moment passed. I wonder, sometimes, about my sanity. How could I have just told him how I felt? She bit her lip, sure she had done exactly what a young lady ought not to. At the refreshments table, she reached across to take a glass of Malmsey.
“Lady Ada!”
A familiar voice spoke from behind her – though not one that she had ever wished to hear.
“Lord Oscar,” she said, biting her lip hard. She closed her eyes a moment. Go away. I wish you gone.
“I did not expect to see you here,” he said smoothly. “Since you... disappeared on our outing, I had surmised you shunned social events. You certainly ran from that one.”
Ada blinked, feeling stung. “I do not shun company, sir,” she said archly. “Only onerous and domineering people.”
Oscar stared at her, and his eyes narrowed. “I will assume you misspoke,” he said quietly, “for which you can thank me.”
Ada stared, wide-eyed. “Was that a threat, my lord Oscar?”
He looked down at her, blue eyes narrowed. “It was as you chose to hear it, Lady Ada.”
Ada felt herself step back. The man was not, clearly, quite stable.
“Ada!”
She turned gratefully and looked down at the smiling face of Lady Alicia, wearing a delightful shade of green that matched her flame-red hair. A turban covered most of it, with an elegant feather in a darker green to offset it.
“Lady Alicia.” Ada smiled. “Good evening.” Her heart was pounding, her breath strained.
“I have need of you to solve a dispute, my dear!” Alicia smiled back. “You are clever with words – perhaps you can advise me on this passage in Byron...” She noticed Lord Oscar standing behind Ada in his pale-blue velvet. “Oh, hello Lord Oscar!” she said vaguely, aiming him an offhand grin. She turned back to Ada. “If I could borrow you to join us, dear? I'm in the party with Lord Alswith there, and Lady Hestony.”
Ada allowed Alicia to propel her across the floor, chattering excitedly as they went. When they were safely away from Lord Oscar, she leaned in toward Ada.
“I wanted to tell you, dear,” Alicia whispered, “that Lord Toby came over to me and told me to tell you to meet him at the exit onto the terrace in five minutes' time.”
“Lord Toby wanted to see me?” Ada blinked. It was unlike Lord Toby to make clandestine meetings. I wonder if it was Liam, who wanted to see me? It seemed unlikely. Ever since the meeting at Lady Alicia's, when he heard she was being courted by someone else.
“That's what he said, dear,” Alicia said, raising her eyebrows innocently. “Just thought you'd like to know. But come, join the
group. You do know more poetry than me, so I really did mean to invite you...” She trailed off as they reached the group.
Ada allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion about Byron's Don Juan, but only half-listened. Her mind was whirling.
The terrace. Five minutes. What is Toby up to? As she stood and half-listened, making sure to keep an eye on the elaborate timepiece above the fireplace, she could not decide which was more surprising: Lord Toby's request, or Lord Oscar's threat.
The words echoed around her head. I will assume you misspoke. For which you can thank me. There was something not quite right about Lord Oscar. And the worst thing about it was her sister-in-law and brother believed her to be in love with him! And Liam... now he thinks so, too!
I wish I could cry. Here, in this crowded ballroom, where dukes and lords met earls and countesses, she could not risk a tear. Ada finished her wine and walked quietly toward the entrance to the terrace. It was almost time.
Here, on the edge of the ballroom, it was less crowded and wide doors opened out to the garden beyond, dew-damp beneath the starred sky. She slipped out to the terrace. There was no one there.
“Toby?”
Nothing. Just the sighing of the wind. Ada breathed in the fresh air and wondered if she had ever felt so wretched and alone. Not even Toby wanted to speak with her! What have I done?
“My lady?” A gentle voice spoke from behind her, and Ada turned around, not quite believing her ears.
“Lord Liam?”
It was him indeed. Here, in the half-light from the ballroom and the stars, she could not see the left side of his face, but the slim nose and narrow, handsome jaw were obviously his, as were the dark eyes that smiled at her. He was wearing dark blue velvet, almost black, and he blended in to the shadows by the building. It was, she thought, the perfect place to hide.
“It is me indeed.” He smiled.
“But you never...” Ada covered her mouth with her hand, afraid to offend him.
“I never attend balls?” he asked, and the right-hand corner of his mouth lifted in a smile of poignant sweetness.
An Earl To Remember (The Yorkshire Downs Series - Love, Hearts and Challenges) (A Regency Romance Story) Page 10
