Regency Romances

by Grace Fletcher

  “It’s really me,” Clarissa declared as she stepped back and then hugged Eleanor with equal fervor.

  “She’s still as lively as ever.”

  Isabella turned and saw a woman in her twenties with pale red hair approach them at a more sedately pace. Eleanor was in deep conversation with Clarissa so Isabella went over to the newcomer and they kissed each other’s cheek.

  “Sally. Lovely to see you again.” She smiled at the engagement ring on the woman’s finger. “And congratulations on your engagement. I read the banns.”

  “Thank you.” Sally Travers blushed almost as red as her hair. “Thomas will be here soon. I’d like you to meet him.”

  “We’ll certainly do that,” Eleanor agreed as she reached Isabella’s shoulder. Then her smile faded as she nodded at Lady Emma. “What’s Lady Emma doing here?”

  Chapter 6

  Beast’s Anguish

  “Lady Emma?” Clarissa looked surprised. “She’s a friend of mine. I asked Mother if she could come and celebrate Father’s birthday with us. She would be coming, anyway, seeing as the Duke of Northumberland is a family friend…”

  “The Duke of Northumberland?” Isabella had to fight to stop the sudden rush of panic. “He’s here?”

  “Yes, of course he is.” Sally frowned and reached out to Isabella as she swayed. “Belle, what’s wrong? You look like you’re about to faint.”

  “I…” Isabella had to get out of there. She couldn’t see North again. Not now. “I think I’ll go and lie down. I’m still feeling unwell.”

  Of all the places to come to get away from North, he just had to follow her. That was unfair. God had to be toying with her, thinking this was amusing.

  All Isabella knew as she stumbled away was this was not amusing at all.

  ***

  “Your Grace, you are not eating.”

  North started out of his thoughts and looked at Lady Emma, who was sitting opposite him. She gave him a concerned frown. Then North looked down at his plate and realized it was practically full compared to everyone else’s, which were nearly empty. Flushing, North gave Lady Charlotte a bashful look.

  “Forgive me, Lady Charlotte. I guess I still haven’t got back my appetite.”

  Lady Charlotte didn’t look angry. Concerned, yes, but she didn’t question him.

  “It takes a while to get your appetite back after something you went through. Take your time, Your Grace.”

  “I don’t wish to be inhospitable.”

  “Nonsense! You couldn’t be more inhospitable if you tried.”

  There was a snort from the other end of the table. Eleanor Eliot, her plate half-full still, was openly glaring at North as she sat beside Lord Travers.

  “I am surprised he can remember his manners after a bash to the head.”

  Clarissa gasped. Emma’s face went red and Lady Charlotte raised an eyebrow. Sally frowned across the table. Beside her, Isabella just sat staring at her plate. She hadn’t touched a morsel, either. And she was looking paler than she had been when she first entered the room. North was worried she was going to fall off her chair and keel over.

  “There was no need for that, Eleanor, was there?” Sally asked.

  “Forgive me, Sally, that didn’t mean to come out so rude.” From the look on Eleanor’s face, she did mean offence. “But I’ve heard people change if they’ve sustained a head injury. I was wondering how much the duke had changed.”

  Emma snorted and tittered, reaching for her wine glass.

  “The duke certainly hasn’t changed.” She looked at him knowingly over the rim of her glass. “He’s the same man as always.”

  Why did that sound like a lie? North felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. This didn’t feel right at all. But he simply gave a slight smile and reached for his own glass.

  “Of course I am,” he lied.

  Emma looked pleased and went back to her food, chattering away to Lady Charlotte about ridiculous things. North tuned her and the rest of the party out as they talked about anything and everyone. Occasionally, he glanced sideways at Isabella, who he could just see at the far end of the table. She just sat staring at her food, only interacting with Lady Charlotte’s daughters and her sister. She didn’t look up.

  Was it his presence that had her so nervous? Was she upset that North had spurned her? North wasn’t sure if that was the case, but he did have a feeling that he was part of the reason Isabella Eliot looked like she had seen a ghost.

  North didn’t like having people scared of him. And they had gotten off on the wrong foot. Which was a shame because she was a beautiful woman. Even more so than Emma Hughes. If he could just speak to her and apologize, maybe they could get rid of the tension that was clearly in the air.

  After dinner, as the ladies went into the front room to drink sherry and the men went into the library, North excused himself and made his way to where the ladies were. If he could find Isabella now, they could have a better weekend.

  As he passed a partially open door, a familiar female voice caught his attention. North slowed when he heard Emma scolding.

  “For goodness’ sake, Travers, would you be careful with what you say? North isn’t supposed to know about that.”

  “Forgive me, Lady Emma.” Travers’ response sounded meek, nervous, not like him at all. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Of course you weren’t!” Emma hissed. “If North begins to remember, he’ll remember that he rejected me for a common little chit who dares to show her face here. His family want the man he was before she waltzed into his life. The man who was quite happy to put on a smile and marry me. We don’t want everything turned upside-down because he started to remember.”

  There was a sound of movement and North hurried away. He didn’t want to be caught creeping about like one of the servants. From the sound of it, Emma certainly didn’t want him to hear that.

  He found his way out onto the terrace and sagged onto the wall, trying to understand what was going on. He had rejected Emma for someone else? North couldn’t remember doing that. As far as he was aware, marrying Emma Hughes was all he had known. And what were they worried about North finding out? Didn’t they want him to get his memories back?

  North wondered if his gut feeling about Emma was right and she wasn’t all that she seemed.

  “Your Grace?”

  North looked up. Sally Travers was walking across the terrace towards him, a warm-looking shawl about her shoulders. He stood and bowed.

  “Miss Sally. Where’s your fiancé?”

  Sally gave him a soft smile.

  “He’s playing cards with Clarissa, Eleanor, and Viscount Parkes. I think he’s trying to prove he can play cards.” Her smile faded as she surveyed him. “But I’m more concerned about you, Your Grace. You’ve been very quiet.”

  Of the two Travers daughters, Sally was the more sensible one. She was wise beyond her years. Thomas Marchant would be marrying well with her. North rubbed his hands over his face. He could trust Sally.

  “I guess I’m still trying to figure out what’s going on with me. Not a lot of it is making any sense up here.”

  He tapped the side of his head.

  “The memories aren’t coming back?”

  “I think something is. Flashbacks, I think the doctor called them. But I don’t know what they mean or if they’re actually real. They could be my imagination conjuring something up, for all I know.”

  Sally sighed, tucking the shawl tighter around her shoulders.

  “Well, whatever is going on, let’s hope you can figure out what you did to get Eleanor Eliot so upset. She looked like she wanted to use that knife on you at dinner.”

  “I wish I knew.” North then thought of something that had his pulse going up. “I couldn’t have spurned her, could I?”

  Sally snorted with laughter.

  “Of course not! Eleanor is engaged to Oliver Tabori, a captain in the British army. They’re due to be married next month when he gets back from
Spain on a campaign for Wellington. She wouldn’t look at anyone else.”

  “So, what could I have done?”

  “I have no idea.” Sally raised her eyebrows. “But maybe you should ask her sister Belle.”

  “Belle.”

  Then something flickered in North’s mind. That name was familiar. Very familiar. It had been doing that all the way through dinner whenever Isabella’s name was mentioned. North knew it meant something, but he had no idea what.

  “Why do you call Miss Eliot that?” He asked.

  “We’ve been friends since childhood. She didn’t like being called Isabella until she turned fifteen so we all called her Belle. Now only a select few are allowed to call her Belle.”

  “A select few,” North murmured.

  Why did that leave a warm feeling in his chest? Sally shook her head sadly.

  “She’s not been herself for a while now, according to Eleanor. Maybe she’s still feeling unwell. She was suffering from pneumonia until recently.”

  “Maybe.”

  North’s gut clenched. She had been unwell? No wonder she looked like she was about to collapse. What had she been thinking coming out here for a rambunctious party? It would completely wipe her out.

  Then he heard her voice, coming from inside. She sounded pleading. Curiosity getting the better of him, North went back inside. Isabella was in the hallway with Lady Charlotte. To his surprise, her trunks, still packed, were being taken out the front door.

  “Are you sure about this, Belle?” Lady Charlotte asked. She looked very worried.

  “I’m sure.” Isabella nodded frantically. She looked like she was about to flee. “I can’t stay here.”

  Chapter 7

  Beast Wants the Truth

  “But why?” Lady Charlotte urged. “Talk to me, darling. Why?”

  North moved into the hall, Sally just behind him, and Isabella happened to look at him. Their eyes locked and her eyes widened. She suddenly looked even more scared and turned back to Lady Charlotte.

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “Just trust me, Aunt Charlotte. Please.”

  Lady Charlotte looked torn. North glanced at Sally, who was staring at Isabella in confusion. But he said nothing. Finally, Lady Charlotte nodded and stepped back.

  “All right. But please don’t lose touch with us again.”

  “I won’t,” Isabella promised, relief sounding in her voice. “But I have to go.” She turned to Travers as he entered the hall, Emma just behind him, “Many happy returns again, Lord Travers. I’ll come by another time.”

  “What? Are you leaving already?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Isabella rubbed at her stomach. “I’m still not feeling very well. It was a mistake to come here when I’m not fully recovered. It’s best that I went home.”

  “That’s very good of you, Miss Eliot.” Emma’s voice almost came out as a sneer. “You don’t want anyone else to become unwell.”

  Lady Charlotte frowned at the younger woman and then turned back to Isabella.

  “Do you want your sister to come with you?”

  “No, she can stay.” Isabella barely cast a glance in North’s direction. “Don’t let me spoil things for you.”

  Then she was hurrying off out the front door, almost running for the carriage before the door was closed. Emma snorted and turned away with a smirk.

  “Thank goodness for that. She was certainly not the life of the party.”

  And then she swept into the front room before anyone could respond. Sally sighed and shook her head.

  “I do hope you come to your senses again.”

  “What?” North turned to her. “What do you mean, again?”

  “Because I have a feeling Isabella knows more than she’s letting on about what happened to you.” Sally shrugged and turned away. “That’s just my observation.”

  Then she walked off, leaving North staring after her, wondering what on earth she meant.

  ***

  North tried to put Isabella Eliot out of his mind, but he couldn’t. She was always there on the fringe or fully at the front, looking at him with that lovely smile he caught her giving him when he first opened his eyes to her. Everything he did seemed to remind him of Isabella. And that wasn’t good at all.

  The weekend passed awkwardly for North once Isabella had gone, especially whenever he came into contact with Eleanor, who either gave him the cold shoulder or openly stared angrily at him. She didn’t come near him with her fan again, which was a relief.

  And Emma stuck closer to his side. That made North even more uncomfortable. It was like she wanted to make sure he didn’t say anything more or interact with anyone without her express permission. That drove North mad. It made him angry. No one took charge of him and certainly not Lady Emma Hughes.

  What had Sally meant about coming to his senses regarding Emma? And what had she meant by again? North had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that things with Emma Hughes were not going to be going her way, not the way he was starting to feel about her.

  Maybe he had disliked her at some point and he couldn’t remember. Would this be during the time he couldn’t remember? Is that what Emma is trying very hard to make him not remember again? So she could marry him before he truly came to his senses?

  North didn’t know what to think.

  But he did know that he had to do something. The day that he was to be married to Emma was rapidly approaching and North was no closer to the truth than before. He had to find out what was going on. If not, he would postpone the marriage from happening until he regained his senses. His memory needed to be completely there before he could marry anyone.

  “North.”

  North started. Then he remembered he was in the carriage with Lady Emma sitting beside him, on their way to a social engagement Emma wanted to go to. She had practically begged North to go, reminding him that he enjoyed these social events as much as she did. All North felt was contempt. He didn’t like social gatherings at all.

  “Yes?”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  North bit back a growl, his hands clenching on his knees.

  “Why do you question me so much, Emma?”

  “Because you’re not yourself.” Emma laid a hand on his arm and North had to resist the urge to shrug her off. “You keep staring into the distance. I begin to wonder if you’re all right.”

  She was probably nervous North might be getting his memories back. If she was concerned about that because their past was different to how everyone made it out to be, she had every right to be worried.

  “Are you concerned I might find something out that I shouldn’t?” He couldn’t help but sneer.

  “What?”

  “Don’t lie to me now, Emma. I heard you talking to Travers when we were at their house for the weekend. You didn’t want me to know something, and you thought Lord Travers was going to break.” North gave her a hard look. “What did you think you were trying to hide from me?”

  “Nothing.”

  That came out far too fast. North narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Do you really think I believe that?”

  Emma blinked. For a moment, she looked panicked.

  “You went through a traumatic experience in France, North. We’re supposed to make things gentle for you while you recover. We don’t want to weigh you down with everything at the beginning.”

  “Emma, it’s been three months since I came back from France and I still feel like I’m being treated like a child.”

  “It’s for your own good.”

  North shook his head.

  “I don’t think so.”

  He wanted to know what was really going on, and clearly, Emma wasn’t telling him. North didn’t like being kept in the dark.

  Emma gave him a pretty smile, her hand tightening on his arm as she attempted to tug him towards her.

  “Please, darling, let’s not quarrel,” she simpered. “We’re supposed to be having fun tonight. Enjoying
our time with our friends. Let’s not go in after an argument.”

  She was trying to get him to kiss her. North could tell by the look her eyes. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Just like all the other times she attempted to initiate a kiss. He tensed and managed to pull away.

  “No, Emma.”

  Emma practically shoved his arm away and pouted.

  “This is ridiculous, North. We’ve been engaged for three weeks and due to marry next Saturday and you still haven’t kissed me. I didn’t take you to be the prude before.”

  “Maybe I’m not the kissing type.”

  Emma snorted.

  “You do know you’re going to have to change that once we’re married. I didn’t go into this because I thought you were a good match. I agreed to the match because I love you. Always have. I’m going to be the mother of your heirs, so you had better get used to doing things you’re not used to.”

  The mother of his heirs. North didn’t like the sound of that. Whenever he did have thoughts about children, they weren’t blond. The boys looked a lot like him but the girls…

  They were dark-haired, dark-eyed and looked an awful lot like someone else. Someone who seemed to be plaguing his thoughts more than she should.

  And North could see her getting out of the carriage ahead of him as they pulled up in the huge line, waiting to be let out. She was wearing a red dress, her hair pinned up. She looked better than she had before but North could see the sadness in her eyes despite her smile.

  Isabella Eliot. She was important, he knew that. But just how much? North had a feeling he was going to need to get answers from her instead.

  Before he knew it, North was opening the door and jumping out of the carriage, slamming the door behind him as he hurried towards the ballroom. Emma hung out the window and shouted after him, but North was too focused on chasing after Isabella.

  He found her in the foyer, getting ready to go into line to greet the hosts. North moved in behind her, doing his best not to touch her despite his fingers itching to do so.

  “Miss Eliot.” He said in a low voice, wishing he didn’t sound like he had sprinted all the way. “I must speak with you. It’s important.”