by Emma Evans
However, Miss Kingston, daughter of Viscount Larkridge, had not wanted to secure herself to any gentleman in her first Season, declaring herself to simply be enjoying the time she had in London. That had not put Stephen off in the least, determined to continue to court her for as many seasons as it took before she agreed to be his wife.
Closing his eyes, he let the memory of the last time he’d seen her filter into his mind. They had been dancing the waltz and he had been forced to tell her that he had to leave London for a time, although he did not go into detail as to why such a thing had to occur but promised to come back to her again. She had appeared concerned and confused, reminding him of her determination not to marry this Season regardless. He had not known what to say, wondering if it had been some kind of encouragement, but she had simply tipped her head and smiled, her fingers tightening in his.
“It is my intention to have at least three Seasons before I settle on one particular gentleman,” she had said firmly in his ear, her eyes looking deeply into his. “You will return to London before then, will you not?”
He had promised that yes, he would, never imagining that he would have to spent two summers away from London simply to get his younger brother out of trouble and back under control.
But now, he was sure, it was his time to be with Miss Sarah Kingston. She was to be his bride, his wife, his future—all he had to do was find her.
His breath caught as he saw the golden-haired angel step into the room, drawing almost every man’s attention. She was pleased by this, of course, her gentle smile bringing a shot of heat to his core. She was walking with her father and mother, which meant that she could not yet be married, and Stephen felt another burst of delight fill him.
She was ready to be courted, ready to be thrown back into that whirlwind of delight that had once encapsulated them both. He could hardly wait to speak to her again.
“Are you staring at my sister?”
Catching his breath, Stephen looked down to see a young lady looking up at him, her light blue eyes filled with suspicion and something like frustration.
“That is very bold, given that we are neither friends nor even introduced,” Stephen replied, somewhat coldly, as he turned his back on the lady. “I will not be improper, miss.”
“Miss Grace Kingston, Lord Larchmont, and yes, we have been introduced although I am sure you will have forgotten it by now.”
Slowly, Stephen turned back around to face the young lady, his heart slowly twisting as he saw the irritation in her expression.
“Miss Kingston, I do apologize,” he replied, struggling to find any recollection of being introduced to her. “Might I ask when we were introduced?”
She glared at him, her light brown tresses bouncing as she tossed her head. “It was on the same day you were introduced to my sister, the beautiful Sarah Kingston.” Her tone was sharp, her words heated, and slowly Stephen realized who this lady was.
Although he could still not recall ever being introduced to her.
“As I said, you most likely have forgotten our introduction since it occurred at the same time as your introduction to my sister,” Miss Kingston continued, her sharp eyes never leaving him. “Might I suggest, however, that you make your attentions a little less apparent?”
Unused to being spoken to in such a harsh manner, and certainly having never heard such a tone from a lady before, Stephen felt himself bristle.
“I would ask you kindly to keep such thoughts and considerations to yourself, Miss Kingston,” he replied firmly, turning his face away from her for a time. “Whilst you may wish to give me your advice, I find that I do not require it.”
She laughed harshly, shaking her head at him. “Is that so, Lord Larchmont?” Her jaw jutted out for a moment as she regarded him, but Stephen kept his face turned away, determined to keep his expression impassive whilst still being able to see her out of the corner of his eye. The lady was clearly angry but he could not find anything within him to care about her upset. She was rude indeed, coming over to him in order to give him a piece of her mind when he had not requested it! How different to her sister she was. Miss Sarah Kingston was refinement itself, elegant and proper in all things. He did not wonder why he had forgotten his introduction to Miss Grace Kingston, reassuring himself that it was best he forget the lady altogether. She was not someone he had any intention of furthering his acquaintance with.
“Should you require my advice at any time in the future, Lord Larchmont, then I shall be more than willing to talk to you, despite the arrogance and disdain on your face. It has been a few years since we have last seen one another—and perhaps you might find my sister somewhat changed since your last visit. I do hope that you will not be too upset.”
As Stephen turned to face her to demand to know what she was talking about, the lady simply arched one eyebrow and turned away without so much as excusing herself. Stephen was left open-mouthed at the lady’s sheer lack of consideration for basic manners, refusing to let his mind dwell on anything she had said. This was nothing but jealousy from her, possibly because she did not have the beauty, the grace or the elegance that her sister, Sarah, possessed.
“As if I should ever need your advice,” Stephen muttered to himself, turning away from the lady’s retreating back and going in precisely the opposite direction, his heart and mind turning back towards his angel, Miss Sarah Kingston.
“And now we shall hear Miss Sarah Kingston play, and after that, we shall take a short break for some refreshment.”
Stephen sat forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on the lady as she rose gracefully from her seat, brushing down her gown with delicate fingers for a moment before walking towards the pianoforte. It had been a long time since he’d heard her play or sing and Stephen could feel his own anticipation rising as she took her seat.
Closing his eyes, he waited for the first few notes to begin. Her voice was as sweet and as clear as he remembered it, her fingers brushing the keys with such delicacy that it made him want to weep. She was one with the music, finding the highs and lows and working her way through them with great consideration. The music rose to a crescendo as she came to a close, the last few notes dying away as they ran around the walls of the room.
Stephen opened his eyes, seeing the crowd clapping for her and yet finding himself unable to do so much as move. His gaze was fixed on her, his sheer happiness on seeing her again tearing him apart. His heart had longed for her these long years he had been away, which perhaps explained the deep resentment for his brother that had settled in his soul during the time he had been gone.
But now you are returned, he told himself firmly, finally managing to clap for the lady. Now you can start to court her again in earnest, knowing that this time it will lead to matrimony.
“Thank you,” their host said as Miss Kingston took her seat again. “A marvelous performance, by Miss Sarah Kingston.”
A light spattering of applause ran around the room as Stephen waited with anticipation for their host to announce a few refreshments and a short interval before the next part of the performances began. The moment he was free to do so, he got to his feet and, pushing his chair back, made his way around to the lady.
It was just as it had been before. She was practically surrounded by gentlemen, although there were a few ladies there also, and she was smiling at them all. For a moment, Stephen stayed exactly where he was, drinking in the sight of her and feeling it fortify himself. How long had he been waiting for this moment? And now that it was finally here, he found that all thoughts of what he might say to her had flown out of his head.
“My goodness!” he heard her exclaim, seeing her eyes land on his. “Lord Larchmont, can that be you?”
Clearing his throat, Stephen pasted a wide smile on his face. “Yes, indeed, Miss Kingston. I have returned to London, as you can see, and thought it best to throw myself heedlessly into all that society has to offer.” He smiled as she stepped through her crowd of admirers towards him, her eye
s shining.
“It has been a long time, has it not?” she asked softly as he took her gloved hand in his. “Years, in fact.”
He bowed over it, allowing his lips to brush the back of her hand gently. His heart was pounding, his mouth had gone dry, and Stephen found himself practically lost for words.
“I am very glad to see you back in town again,” she continued, when he said nothing. “You are going to stay this time, are you not?”
“I am,” Stephen replied, finding his voice hoarse and clearing it at once. “I must confess that finding my brother and bringing him to account took longer than I had planned, but you will be glad to know that all is well now.”
She smiled at him, her beauty taking his breath away as he finally, reluctantly, let go of her hand.
“Indeed, Lord Larchmont, I am very glad to hear it.” Looking about her, she shot him a questioning look. “Is he here with you now?”
“No,” Stephen replied quickly. “He is just recently married. He has gone on his honeymoon and will return so as to go into the law.”
Miss Kingston looked astonished. “My goodness, Lord Larchmont, you have done a remarkable job in bringing your brother to heel. I am very glad for him.”
“A wonderful state, to be married,” Stephen replied quietly, in the hope that no one else would be able to hear him. “Not yet something I have achieved.”
She laughed then, tilting her head. “No?”
He shook his head, laughing along with her. “No, indeed not.”
“I am sad for you, I think,” she replied with a small smile. “For I have that wonderful state to look forward to whereas you do not.”
The smile faded from his face as he took in what she was saying. “You are… you are engaged?”
She blushed and nodded, her eyes darting away from his. “Indeed. To a Lord Wilson. I am not sure you know him. He is a viscount also, but comes from the border.”
“I see,” Stephen found himself saying as his mind screamed at him to step away from her so that he might try and find a way to save his composure. “I thought that you were intending not to marry until a few Seasons had passed.”
“And they have,” came the swift reply. “What a shame you were not present, Lord Larchmont. I might have been presented with a more difficult choice, were you still as attentive as before.” Looking past him, Stephen saw her cheeks flush with color, her eyes sparkling with even more light than before. “Do excuse me, won’t you?” she asked, putting one hand lightly on his arm. “My betrothed has just arrived—late as usual. Do excuse me.”
Stephen made some kind of ineffectual noise and stepped away, managing to stumble towards the shadows that lined the walls.
The bottom had just dropped out of his world.
Chapter Three
Miss Grace Kingston looked at her reflection in the mirror with dull eyes, feeling the same despondency that always filled her whenever they came to London. Miss Sarah Kingston, her older sister by only a year, was already parading herself around the drawing room, talking in depth about all the gentlemen who had shown her interest the night before, her words slowly driving themselves into Grace’s heart.
She had never been a beauty, of course, although she was sure that if she smiled a little more then she would appear less irritated with life in general, but when Sarah was in the room, the whole world seemed to look at her and forget that Grace even existed. She had seen it last evening, when Lord Larchmont had been staring at Sarah and had clearly forgotten that they had ever been introduced, even though it had been some years ago.
“And then there was Lord Brackendale, who was smiling at me for most of the evening whenever I caught his eye and even procured me a drink when I asked for it,” Sarah continued airily. “It is just as well that Lord Wilson does not mind that I garner so much of their attention.”
Grace rolled her eyes. Lord Jonathan Wilson was as arrogant as Sarah, which meant that they made quite the matching pair. Whilst Sarah paraded herself in front of all and sundry, her betrothed was doing exactly the same thing, as though they were both two beautiful peacocks, each striving to gain as much attention as the other.
And she was the dull blackbird in the corner, the one that no one saw and no one noticed. The one that everyone else forgot.
“And did you not think that I played marvelously well?” Sarah continued, not even giving Grace time to respond. “I thought it was a wonderful piece myself, and I was glad to see everyone so kind in their compliments afterwards.”
Grace, being sure that if Sarah had played a piece full of mistakes, she would still have gotten hearty congratulations, said nothing, turning away from the mirror that hung over the drawing room fireplace.
“I think I am to go out,” she murmured, suddenly desperate to get away from her sister’s company. “Do excuse me, Sarah.”
Her sister stopped wandering around the room and stared at her. “But you cannot go out, Grace. Not now.”
Grace drew in a long breath and closed her eyes, fighting down her anger. “Why not, Sarah?”
“Because we are to go out for a carriage ride.”
This was the first that Grace had heard of it and so, with one eyebrow lifted, contemplated her sister calmly. “This is news to me, Sister dear, so you had better try and explain this in a little more detail. As far as I am concerned, the afternoon is entirely open to me before we attend Lord Matthews’ ball this evening.”
Sarah tossed her head. “Really, Grace, you are being a stick in the mud on purpose, I know it.”
Choosing not to rise to the bait, Grace shrugged and turned away, making to go out of the door only for Sarah to call her name again.
“Grace! You cannot go out. You are meant to be coming in the carriage with me when Lord Wilson calls.”
And so, Grace realized what her sister meant. It was not that she was to go out for a ride with her sister alone, or that a potential suitor had requested Grace’s company, but that she was to be a chaperone between her sister and her betrothed.
“Then I refuse,” she replied calmly, one hand slowly curling into a fist as she battled to keep her expression impassive. “I have not been asked before now, Sarah, and as such I have no intention of going with you.”
“But my carriage ride!” Sarah screeched, sounding desperate. “You are meant to chaperone me, Grace!”
Not caring in the least, Grace shrugged. “Take a maid with you, Sarah. I am not at your beck and call.”
Her sister laughed harshly, her hands now planted firmly on her hips as she glared at Grace. “And here I thought I was doing something kind for you, but you are simply throwing that compassion back in my face.”
Rounding on her sister, Grace let the anger and irritation she felt loose within her, her eyes narrowing. “It is not compassionate or kind to use me as a chaperone, Sarah! I have my own life to live!”
“With all the many, many suitors that come to call on you, is that it?” Sarah mocked, her face now bright red. “Or have you forgotten that no one cared about poor little plain Grace? No one wants to call on you, no one wants to so much as dance with you, Grace! How else are you to go out and about within society without my company? You will just fade away into the distance without me by your side.”
Her words made Grace too angry to speak, her lips trembling as she fought the temptation to strike Sarah hard across the face, knowing that it would do no good if she were to lose her temper now. Sarah might look angelic, but her words and her heart were cruel.
“The reason you can’t find anything to say is because you know that I’m speaking the truth,” Sarah hissed, looking into Grace’s eyes. “You know that you’re the plain sister, that you’re always going to be the plain sister and that your chance of finding a happy match is growing slimmer with every Season that’s passed.”
Grace swallowed the ache in her throat, her whole body shaking with rage. “You’re despicable, Sarah,” she whispered, before turning around and, with an effort, leaving
her sister in the drawing room alone.
Stumbling towards the front door, Grace was forced to wait for her maid to come down the stairs with her bonnet and gloves, before finally making her way outdoors. She hated that her sister managed to hurt her in such a profound and calculated way, knowing exactly what she needed to say to tear Grace apart. She’d been doing it for years, her words becoming more hurtful the more attention was lavished on her. No one else could see it. No one else could see what she was like, looking only at her outward appearance instead of getting to know her character. That was true even of her sister’s betrothed, Lord Wilson, but he was so wrapped up in himself that Grace doubted he would ever notice, not even when they were wed.
She was growing more and more desperate for her sister to set a date for her wedding, even though the engagement had only occurred a few days before. The marriage would mean an end to her life of torment, an end to her sister’s cruelty that so often forced itself into Grace’s life.
Perhaps then, finally, she’d be able to build up her self-esteem without it being knocked to the ground every time Sarah was upset. Perhaps then someone might notice her instead of letting their eyes drift towards Sarah instead.
“If only,” she whispered, her vision blurring as she hurried along the street towards the small library she’d found some years ago, desperate to disappear inside so that she could hide herself amongst the books and not have to interact with another living soul.
The truth was, Grace knew she was plain. She did not have the blonde curls her sister had but had been left with the dark brown hair that she had shared with her late grandmother. Her eyes were not the sparkling emeralds that Sarah possessed but were somewhere between green and blue, and rather dull at that. Whilst her figure was trim, her parents had never seen fit to spend as much money on a gown as they had done with Sarah, presenting Sarah as a diamond of the first water whilst seeming to forget all about Grace.
