by Abbi Glines
It was in that moment, I decided I truly hated Nicholas Compton. He wasn’t interesting but spiteful and cold. I truly hoped Lydia Ramsbury was smart and didn’t fall for his charming smile and attractive face. There was something I disliked more than arrogance and it was cruelty.
“There you are, honey,” Aunt Harriet appeared at my side with a glass of wine in her hand. “I searched for you when Mr. Compton arrived so I could tell you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
I gave Nicholas Compton one last scathing glance then turned to my aunt. “I needed fresh air,” I explained.
Aunt Harriet nodded then looked back to the dance floor. “Do you have room on your dance card?” she asked hopefully.
“No, I’m afraid I have a headache and need to leave. Are you ready?” I asked her.
She frowned then, as if I had just spoken a foreign language to her. “Oh dear, alright,” she stammered and then I began walking to the exit, hoping she was following in my wake. Just before we reached my escape from all this… Lord Ashington filled the entrance. I didn’t have to look around to know his arrival had already drawn interest. I paused ,waiting until he passed before leaving, but his gaze found mine and what I saw in his expression was unexpected.
He seemed interested in something. It couldn’t be me since we had already established that after his brief visit, he didn’t find me to be worth calling upon again. He made his way toward us instead of the waiting crowd.
“Lady Wellington,” he greeted my aunt then his gaze was back on me. “Miss Bathurst. Did I arrive to find you are already taking your leave?”
I managed a nod. “I have a headache,” I replied not sure why he cared if I was here or not. He needed to be more concerned with the fact his brother was flirting with Lydia Ramsbury, like a complete and utter rake.
He seemed truly concerned as his brow furrowed. Who was this man and what had he done with Lord Ashington? “May I escort you both home, then?”
What?
“That is very kind of you Lord Ashington, but our carriage is just outside,” Aunt Harriet said, sounding somewhat devastated that it was.
“Of course,” Lord Ashington replied, giving my aunt a kind smile I’d never seen on the man before. What was happening here? When had Lord Ashington become so… nice?
Then it dawned on me. Nicholas Compton was currently dancing with Lydia Ramsbury or he had been. Lord Ashington must have witnessed it and he was giving us attention simply to remind Lydia just who she was dealing with. The idea of it annoyed me to the point my head was truly starting to ache. It was no longer a lie just to escape. I was not in London to be involved in some ridiculous drama between two brothers. I was here to find a husband.
“Enjoy your evening, Lord Ashington,” I replied and stepped around him before anything more could be said. Whatever game he and his brother were playing, I was not to be a pawn in it. I pitied the girls who were blinded by their good looks and place in society that they were used as such.
I did hope Aunt Harriet was behind me as I hurried out the front door and down the stairs toward the awaiting carriages. She was sure to have much to say about my behavior, but she didn’t realize what was happening as I did. Whatever they held against each other should stay there. Between the two of them. Bringing innocent people into their web of lies and deceit was unfair.
My eyes stung slightly and I blinked back any tears. Crying was silly and I was not silly. I was anything but silly. I doubted I had ever truly been silly. Crossing my arms at my waist to fight off the evening breeze, I heard my aunt’s footsteps behind me.
“Oh dear, oh my,” she said, sounding truly worried.
“It’s fine, Aunt Harriet,” I assured her.
She chewed nervously at her bottom lip in a worrisome way. “He is an earl, Miriam. An eligible one.”
I didn’t need reminding. I said nothing and we stood there as we waited on our carriage to be brought around.
“If you are to find a husband then you must be a bit… more agreeable,” she said.
She was right, of course. However, neither Nicholas Compton or Lord Ashington were going to ever ask for my hand. She needed not to waste her concern on them.
“I know,” I said simply. Explaining more to her was of no use. She would think me daft or full of fancy.
“Very well,” she said softly.
I could not explain to my aunt why I wanted to leave, for it showed a weakness I myself hated. Watching Mr. Compton with Lydia tonight and knowing he had blatantly ignored me had stung. I had not wanted to feel anything, so the fact that I did was a very bitter pill to swallow. I was sure my aunt would understand, but I did not want her pity. I had been silly for a moment and I would not do it again. Imagining there was more to the walk with Mr. Compton had been my mistake. I wouldn’t make it twice.
Chapter Twelve
Nicholas Compton
Keeping my attentions on Lydia Ramsbury had been difficult with Miss Bathurst’s presence in the room. It would seem each time I was to see Miriam Bathurst, she was more appealing than the last. It had taken many drinks and stiff talks with myself the past few days to keep from going to visit Miss Bathurst again. My brother’s complete dedication to courting Lydia Ramsbury had been all that had kept me from cracking.
It had been a relief albeit a concern I didn’t want to feel when Miss Bathurst and her aunt left. I couldn’t be sure if Ashington had said something to make her leave early, but it had looked as if she was on her way out when he arrived. Ashington had turned to watch her exit and for a moment I had thought he was going to follow after her. Not something I would have expected.
I had danced and given his current interest my attention since my arrival. It would be now that he would search her out and find that I was already in his place. He should have arrived sooner. A night at the opera didn’t secure his position with Lydia Ramsbury.
Whispers started as he was spotted and I heard Lydia’s name mentioned more than once. Her gaze had found him and her cheeks flushed pink as she watched him. He had made quite the impression on her this week. If I hadn’t been battling my attraction to Miriam Bathurst, I might have made a move to make this easier on myself. I didn’t doubt my charm, but I was struggling to feel it enough to make it believable.
When his gaze found us, he simply gave a nod and continued walking. Ashington did not make scenes and this would be my chance to sway Lydia Ramsbury my way. My brother would be in a foul mood at having arrived to find us together. It was a good time for her to experience his less than pleasant nature.
“I’m sorry, Lady Ramsbury,” I said with a small bow. “My brother isn’t fond of me as is common knowledge and I know you wish his attentions. I will leave you so he may find his way over to you. Thank you for your company. It was truly enchanting,” I said with my most charming of smiles and backed away before she could say more. I didn’t expect a protest from Lady Ramsbury and prolonging my departure was of no consequence. She would be wanting my brother’s attention and of that I understood. He was an earl and I was not. Her mother would be filling her ear with how important it was to keep Lord Ashington’s favor. I had to allow my brother’s less than shining personality pale in comparison to mine.
Pleased with my evening’s progress in that regard, I headed for the exit with no desire to stay in order to see my brother act broody in front of Lydia. He would do so and she would see it. Her mother would tell her to smile brighter and be more appealing. He would be less than charming. At the end of the evening, when Lydia was alone, she would remember the part of the night she had enjoyed most and I would be the star of that memory.
I spoke to few people as I retreated, not wanting to get caught in this circus any longer than necessary. There hadn’t been another dance card I had bothered with but, then I rarely did. Mothers who had heard the gossip of my brother’s interest this week were now eyeing me and nudging their daughters in my direction. Getting free was becoming more of an obstacle course than I had antic
ipated. After excusing myself for the fifth time, I was sure not to make eye contact as I went through the door.
The evening breeze was a blessed relief from the stifling warmth inside the ballroom. The breathtaking view of Miriam Bathurst in the moonlight just as her carriage pulled up was even more so a relief. She was a temptation I was weak to resist. Even if just to speak to her a moment.
“Miss Bathurst,” I called, just loud enough to draw her attention and that of her aunt. Both ladies turned to see me. While Lady Wellington beamed, making it clear she was pleased by my presence, Miriam scowled in… distaste. Such spirit that one. She wasn’t one to flirt or pout. She made her feelings quite clear in a dramatic fashion I truly enjoyed. She did not appreciate my not calling on her again or my preoccupation tonight. A proper English lady such as Lady Ramsbury would smile and pretend she hadn’t been affected by the slight. Miss Bathurst, however, would not. The simple fact had been difficult for me to ignore. I did not want Miss Bathurst to hate me or write me off. She should and if we were both to get what we came to London for then I should let her. However, at this moment, I realized I might not have the strength to do so.
“Mr. Compton,” Lady Wellington replied, turning fully around to face me. “You’re leaving so early?” I could see the sly look in her eyes as she asked it. I had given my full attention to Lydia tonight and no doubt Lady Wellington noticed. I saw the flash of challenge in her gaze as if she were about to take me down in the most ladylike of fashions. I did like this American.
“I’m afraid the evening has become a bore,” I replied with a smirk then turned my gaze to Miriam, who was studying her gloved hands as if she were the one bored. “Your dance card was full before I arrived. My loss I’m afraid,” I said trying to soften her. Last we had spoken, there had been laughter and something more I had been careful not to dwell on. However, that had been days ago and she’d heard nothing from me. The reception I was getting now was indeed deserved, but I wasn’t going to be able to let it go. I missed her smile… all of them. Especially the slightly wicked one.
“Yes, well, we must be going. Our carriage has arrived. Good night, Mr. Compton,” she said with a tight smile that very clearly told me to go to hell. That smile I could have done without. I had the sudden urge to grab her and press my lips against hers until they softened and moaned in response. I didn’t, of course, but the desire stirred none the less.
“You are leaving quite early,” I said, trying to stop her long enough to find the right words to make her smile at me again. The way she had on our walk.
“As are you,” she said then turned from me.
“Miriam has a headache,” Lady Wellington said in way of explanation.
I doubted that very much. Miss Bathurst was angry with me and possibly hurt. The idea of her being more than just angry made me feel unsettled in my gut. I wasn’t sure I could deal with the reality that I had caused her any pain. Yet another weakness she had revealed in me I didn’t know existed.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied, looking back to Miriam as she placed her hand in the footman’s and he helped her up into the carriage.
“Goodnight, Miss Bathurst,” I said when I knew there was nothing more I could do to hold her here.
She took a seat and her gaze found mine once more. She gave me a small nod then again looked the other way. The regret that consumed me was something new. I wasn’t accustomed to this emotion. I acted and accepted my actions. I wasn’t one to regret them. Yet, not being able to coax one real smile from Miss Bathurst did indeed cause remorse. If only I hadn’t spent time with her. If only I hadn’t gotten to know her more than just the outward beauty. However, if it were even a possibility, would I go back and not go on that walk with her?
We had enjoyed our day in the park. At least I had so much so that I’d stayed clear of her after. She was dangerous for me, to my plans for my brother. Too appealing, too unique, too damn beautiful.
“Goodnight, Mr. Compton,” Lady Wellington said with an amused grin on her face. She was enjoying my situation and didn’t mind letting me know just how much. Her aunt made it clear she wanted Miriam happy more than she wanted to see her make a fine match.
“Goodnight,” I replied with a slight bow. “I shall see you soon, Miss Bathurst,” I promised then stepped back as the carriage pulled away, leaving me with only the warmth of the evening breeze.
Her sharp look at my last words caused me to grin when I truly had no reason to after that encounter. Miriam Bathurst would not make it easy on me to regain her good favor. However, I did so enjoy the challenge. Damn, if this wasn’t a predicament I was in. If only it was Miriam my brother had his sights on. My job would be more than the satisfaction of revenge; yet then again, I didn’t cherish the idea of using Miriam. Hurting her in any way seemed unforgivable. There was no clear answer to this. If I reacted so fiercely to the slight I had given her tonight then how would I live with myself if I truly hurt her? Could I make Miriam Bathurst fall in love with me then walk away? I wasn’t sure I could.
“She’s not your type, Brother,” the last word coming out in a disgusted drawl from Ashington.
Turning, I faced my brother, standing only a few feet away. He was the last person I expected to escape the ballroom tonight, especially after his late arrival. Was he not here to woo Lady Ramsbury?
“And pray tell, Brother, what do you know of my type,” I replied. Truth was my brother knew very little about me. He had chosen that years ago.
“I know she’s intelligent, not easily charmed, and in need of a wealthy husband,” he said, matter-of-factly.
Annoyance simmered in my gut. He spoke of Miriam as if he knew her. He had spent very little time with her and he knew nothing. “She’s witty, has a sense of humor, and when she laughs, her face is even more beautiful, which I find to be a true rarity. Yes, her family needs her to marry well but a title is of no importance. She is well read and can talk of literature for hours,” I paused then and took a step toward my brother. “Unlike you, she’s not another face I’ve inquired about. She’s a person who I have taken the time to get to know.”
Ashington didn’t flinch. He showed no emotion in his stony expression. “Yet, she couldn’t get away from you quickly enough.”
He had me there. Although there was reason for that, I wasn’t going to spend my time explaining it to him. She wasn’t part of my plan, and unfortunately, I wasn’t going to get to know her like I wished to. The fear I may never meet another female like Miriam Bathurst did nag at me. However, I had a score to settle with Ashington and revenge that must be met.
“Don’t talk about what you don’t know, Brother,” I replied.
“Actions are far louder than words, little brother. I believe I know more than you give me credit. I was here to witness the entire scene. Only Lady Wellington noticed my presence and I will say she seemed entertained by it all.”
I hated him. With every moment spent in his presence, I remembered just how much pain he had caused. I wanted nothing to do with the man in front of me. However, I had once promised my mother revenge and I would see it through.
“As always, it’s been a pleasure,” I drawled sarcastically and walked away from him before I let myself say anything to make him think I cared. He meant nothing to me as did the words he spoke. I would be free of him soon and he would have reason to hate me. I would give it to him and enjoy every last moment.
Chapter Thirteen
Earl of Ashington
“Is she a princess or perhaps a duchess?” Emma asked me with a hopeful expression. Her little cherub face was turned up to stare at me with wide eyes so full of wonder. She had noticed I was dressed for more than dinner at home and had begun asking questions faster than I could answer them.
“No, I’m afraid she isn’t a princess or a duchess, but I do believe you would like her just the same. She’s very beautiful,” I told her, hoping to let her down easily.
Emma seemed to take a moment to study that
bit of information before continuing with her inquisition. “Is she the same lady you took to the opera last week?”
The child forgot nothing. Ever. It could be that Alice was correct and I did not need to share my outings with Emma. If she were going to remember each and every one that could become confusing for her later.
I shook my head. “This is a new lady,” I told her, truly hoping she wasn’t keeping a tally in her head of the different females I spent time with and how much was too much information. Alice often corrected me for speaking to Emma as if she were an adult. There were things not meant for me to tell a child. I wasn’t good at measuring what that line was and I crossed it often, it would seem.
“Is this lady prettier than the last?” she asked, her eyes lighting up again with curiosity.
I started to tell her the truth when Alice entered the foyer looking stern. “That is of no consequence nor is it proper to discuss such things, Miss Emma.”
Emma rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. I bit the inside of my mouth to keep from grinning at her spunk. “Tis a simple question, Alice,” she said swinging her gaze to her governess.
“It is rude for child and adult alike to ask such a thing,” Alice replied. “Now, say your goodnight and come with me. It is well past time for you to be in bed.”
Emma’s shoulders sagged. “Goodnight, Ashington,” she said in defeat.
“Lord Ashington, Emma. You are to address the Earl as Lord Ashington,” Alice corrected her firmly.
Emma ignored her and sighed again with a dramatic rise and fall of her small shoulders. “I hope she’s lovely and likes to laugh. For you need to laugh more,” Emma said then threw her arms around my legs and hugged them tightly.
I glanced at Alice whose expression softened. Emma had a way of doing that even to the stern Alice. It was why Alice hadn’t been sent running from the house already. Emma had been a test to her patience from day one. However, there were these small moments when she made it worth it. I bent down to give Emma a proper hug. “Goodnight, Emma. Dream of the best things,” I told her.
