Love Stories of Enchanting Ladies: A Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Bridget Barton

  “Do you require an escort? I, myself am about to dance with Lady Phoebe. I’ll call one of the servers to assist you.”

  “No. Thank you, Lord Thomas. I’ll be only a minute. Mind you don’t steal him away from me, Phoebe.” Lady Judith winked at Phoebe and made her way to the French windows leading to the garden.

  ********

  Outside, couples were milling around, strolling or sitting on any of the myriad white wrought iron settees or chairs. The cool evening air played across Judith’s temples. She looked into the ballroom from her spot near a willow tree. She saw the Duke join Lady Phoebe and Lord Thomas. Words were exchanged between them, and then Lady Phoebe extricated herself from the trio and walked away. Judith nodded and smiled.

  *******

  It was close to two in the morning when the ball began breaking up. Duke Atwater had left hours ago, and Lady Judith was nowhere to be found. Thomas escorted Phoebe to the cabriolet and assisted her in. He picked up the reins, and they headed towards Wimpole Street.

  Lady Phoebe had been quiet for most of the night. The only times she’d joined him were when the Duke wasn’t nearby. It had all been very odd indeed. Lord Thomas felt ill at ease and didn’t know why.

  They rode in silence, and then Lady Phoebe exploded. “I cannot believe you still speak to that man. He is not a gentleman for all that he’s a Duke.”

  “Phoebe. Atwater is my best friend and my business partner. I happen to know more about the situation with Lady Judith than the gossip that’s been flying around London for months. I happen to know the truth.”

  Lady Phoebe shrugged. “Is that so? Are you accusing Lady Judith of being a liar? How unchivalrous, Tom.”

  “I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I said I know the truth, and when you want to put down the gossip and hear what that truth is, I’ll be happy to share it with you.”

  “You men always stick together. I’m disappointed in you, Thomas. There is nothing you can tell me that will excuse what Lord Robert did or make it acceptable. Nothing. He and Lady Judith have been linked since they were small children. I’d never met either of them, but I’d heard about them and the plans their mutual family had for them.”

  “Well, you’ve made up for lost time, Phoebe. You appear to have developed a friendship with Lady Judith. I’m sure she’d be happy to introduce you to the skeletons in the family closet. You seem to be a willing ally.”

  “How can I not be? Judith is a woman who has been mistreated. Mistreated by a man. She’s devastated, Tom. And you’ve chosen to side with His Grace.”

  Tom pointedly rolled his eyes.

  “Go ahead and be that way. Roll your eyes and disregard my opinion. I happen to honestly believe Lady Judith.”

  “By all means. Believe whomever you like. Even if you don’t know all of the facts of the situation.”

  “Why are you being disdainful of my choice? You must understand how upsetting it is to meet someone and then to find out that someone is a cad.”

  “You’ve found nothing out, Phoebe! You’ve heard gossip. And, surprisingly, you’ve chosen to believe it. It’s not my intention to be disdainful, My Lady. But you have no evidence that points to Lord Robert’s guilt in the situation. None. All you have is the story of a woman who came back from her travels, then claimed she’d been shunned by Lord Robert. Now, it seems she can’t be parted from him. Since he’s become Duke Atwater, that is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Tom. What you are saying doesn’t change that Lord Robert walked out on a marriage promise.”

  “Again, where is your proof of that, Lady Phoebe?”

  They pulled up in front of the townhouse on Wimpole Street. The footman came around from the back and assisted Phoebe down. She turned and looked long and hard at Thomas.

  “Tom, I only ask that you give Lady Judith, and her story, a chance. She’s alone in this world now.”

  Thomas sat quietly for a moment, his eyes never leaving hers. His voice was deadly quiet when he said, “Please don’t force me to choose between my friends, Phoebe. I’m afraid you won’t agree with my choice.” He snapped the reins and was off before Phoebe had ascended the steps to the front door.

  She went inside, the echo of Tom’s departure still ringing in her ears. She walked slowly up the stairs to her bedchamber. Mary was waiting to help her undress. “Did you enjoy yourself, My Lady?”

  “Yes, yes. Now, help me out of these stays please, Mary. I’ve barely been able to breathe all night.”

  “But you asked to be laced tighter than usual, My Lady.”

  “What I ask for and what is good for me are two different things.” Phoebe smiled sadly. “I fear I may have made a mess of things tonight.” She sat at the vanity and removed her ear bobs, fighting tears.

  *******

  Lord Thomas Radcliffe slammed the door knocker, hit with the flat of his hand then pounded hard with his fist. Finally, Terence came to the door, candelabra in hand. Lord Thomas heard the locks being undone, and then he was in the foyer of the huge Regent Street townhouse.

  “Is the Duke here, Terence.”

  “He is My Lord. If you’ll pardon my audacity, I’d say he could use a friend right now. He’s been drinking brandy. All evening, My Lord.”

  Thomas patted the butler on the back. “You’re a good man, Terence. Where is he, in his sitting room?”

  “No, My Lord. He’s in the library.”

  “The library. Right. I can find it. You forget I nearly grew up in this house. Go to bed, Terence. I’ll see to His Grace.”

  “Oh no My Lord. I couldn’t do that. His Grace might need something from the kitchen.”

  “Or the cellars? No. If you want to do something, make some coffee and bring it up to the Library.”

  “As you wish, My Lord.”

  “Thank you, Terence.” Lord Thomas headed to the library. He pushed the already ajar door open and stepped through. Atwater reclined, his boots dangerously close to smearing mud or worse on the soft leather of the sofa. His forearm was thrown over his eyes, shielding them from the firelight, and he appeared asleep.

  “Is that you, Terence?”

  “It is not.”

  Atwater opened his eyes. “Tom. What are you doing here?”

  “I noticed you left the ball early. I knew you needed to be alone, but you also need someone to talk to. So I waited, and here I am.”

  Atwater sat up. “Thank you, Tom. I appreciate it most heartily, but I’m afraid I’m not very good company at the moment.”

  “You’ve been through much in the last months.”

  “The ton is not happy with my recent promotion.”

  “They need something to occupy their vapid minds,” Tom replied.

  “I know that. That’s what makes it worse than it is. They don’t care who is hurt by their vicious words and their hypocrisy. They’re so desperate to be in the know; they’ll believe something completely illogical. They’ll believe anything or say something untoward about anyone, as long as it encourages their own popularity. And for what? There’s no sense to be made of it.” Atwater slammed his fist on the table.

  “And there’s nothing to do about it either, Your Grace. It is the entitled world in which we live.”

  “Tom, it’s me. Robert. Please don’t be formal with me. There’s no one else here.”

  “I’m sorry, Robert. Old habit, I guess. Your brother would be beside himself if I referred to him as anything other than Marquess Hempstead.”

  “Hmm. You need not concern yourself with that any longer.”

  “I’m sorry, Robert. You’re still in shock.”

  “The funeral is Friday. I only want for it to be over. So I can get on with ... with my new life.”

  “You realize you must marry. You’ll need an heir. The sooner, the better.”

  “My brother was thirty, and he never thought of marriage. Not until my alleged transgression took place, that is. Then he wanted to marry Judith ... to save her, I suppose, from my
evildoing. To lift the shame off of this house.”

  “My apologies, Robert. It’s not my place to inform you of what you ought to do or not do.”

  “I know you’re looking after my best interests, but I will not marry Lady Judith to make good on a promise that was never made. I say now, I’m glad she refused me before she went travelling. I had no idea she has this other side to her. I wonder that I was ever in love with her.”

  “She does make the most sense, as far as a good match, though. It’s always been something of a given that you two would marry. And, while I know the Duke, Judith’s father, sold the estate in the country ... you’d acquire the house on St James. Mere doors away from Brooks’. Think of the possibilities ... I’d be willing to look into buying it.”

  Atwater laughed. “Oh, I see ... the ton would like to see a happy ending to the love story? Or you do, so you can buy a townhouse practically next door to the club?”

  “Actually, as much as the gossips relish dishonour and disgrace, they do appreciate some sweet romance now and then. As to your second question, I think only of Your Grace.” He bowed his head, grinning.

  “Thanks, Tom.” Atwater still chuckled.

  “Seriously though, Robert, I do have your best interests in mind.”

  “I thank you, but forgive me, Tom. You are out of your head.”

  “How can you say such a thing? You know that by marrying Lady Judith you could solve many problems.”

  “And whose problems are you referring to?”

  “Yours. If you were to marry Lady Judith now, you’d be seen as a hero. No one remembers the old gossip when a better story comes along. You can rescue Judith from the near destitution she now finds herself in. Without your brother or you, she doesn’t make a good match for, well, anything more than a second son. You can rescue her from that. And it never hurts to be seen as a hero, my dear fellow.” Tom winked at his friend.

  “No. I cannot. I will not. Judith has lied to everyone. Even worse, she’s lied to me. I don’t trust her, I don’t know what happened to her while she was away traveling, but she’s changed. Have you not noticed it?”

  Tom sat with his eyes closed deep in thought. He was quiet for so long that Robert thought he might’ve fallen asleep.

  “Tom?”

  Tom jerked his head up and looked at his friend. “Robert, do you suppose …” his voice trailed off.

  “Do I suppose?” Atwater waited for his friend to complete the thought he’d begun to share.

  Tom poured himself a brandy and finished it in two swallows.

  “Is this a game, Tom?”

  “Uh, no.” Tom shook his head and smiled. “It’s late. I’ve had some brandy. It’s time for me to be getting to my bed.” He stood, as did Lord Robert.

  “Thank you, Tom.” Lord Robert extended his hand to his friend.

  “Thank you, Your Grace. I’m sincerely sorry for the loss of your father and brother.”

  Lord Robert smiled, “I know you are, Tom. Remember we’re having luncheon here after the funeral on Friday.”

  “I will see you before then. Good night, Your Grace.” He was gone in a blink. Lord Robert found himself alone again. He slid back down to the sofa and fell into troubled sleep.

  Chapter 3

  “Good morning, My Lady.” Mary flitted around the room, opening the curtains to allow the sun in, putting out some frocks for Lady Phoebe to choose from and heating the curl iron near the embers in the fireplace.

  “Ah, here we are. Here’s your breakfast. Put the tray on the bed, Susan. Very good. Now, back to the kitchen. Mind you curtsy to Lady Phoebe first.”

  The shy girl bobbed in and out of a curtsy and disappeared from the room.

  Lady Phoebe smiled, “Very nice, Mary. The new girl is coming along fine.”

  “Yes, my lady, she’s very quick and willing to learn. We’re lucky to have her. She brought this back with her after she went to the market this morning. She said another maid, like herself, handed her the card and said to deliver it to you.”

  “To me? Who could it be? I saw everyone just a few hours ago it seems.” She broke the wax seal and opened the card. Her forehead puckered slightly as she read. Then she let the card slip from her fingers. “It’s from Lady Judith. She’s enquiring if she can call this afternoon.”

  “You don’t sound happy about it, My Lady.”

  “I’m not, Mary. I’m confused. Maybe I ought not to get involved. You know ... the Atwater scandal? I don’t want to take sides. Lord Thomas is displeased with me. He doesn’t believe Lady Judith. Mary, he,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “thinks she’s lying.”

  “No, My Lady!”

  “Yes. He told me not to make him take sides. He said I’d be disappointed with his choice.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “So, I don’t want to further a friendship with Lady Judith because I don’t want to take sides.”

  “You can be a friend and not declare a side to be on, My Lady.”

  “You’re right, Mary. As usual. Lady Judith may call. I will answer her. Let’s have her at four o’clock.” Phoebe sat at her writing table and wrote a short response and sealed it. “There, have Susan go to Lady Judith’s to deliver this. And tell her to come right back, please. Then hurry back up, Mary ... the curl iron must be ready by now!”

  *******

  “What a lovely home you have Lady Phoebe.” Lady Judith sat with her hostess in the private sitting room off Phoebe’s bedchamber.

  Lady Phoebe stopped her teacup midway between the saucer and her lips, and then placed it back on the saucer. “Why, Lady Judith, it’s been many years, but you’ve been here. It was Christmas, 1805, I think. We were young children. My parents had a big party because that Christmas was the tenth anniversary of their marriage. You’ve seen so much since then, though. Your mind must be crowded to overflowing with memories.”

  “La! You don’t know the half of it, Lady Phoebe. I suppose what I meant to say is your home is lovelier than I remember.” She smiled and ate a little cake from a plate on the table.

  “The cakes are delicious, are they not? I have the recipe from that, what do they call it? Rest-a-raunt? Yes, the cakes from the restaurant we met at. In Paris. What was the name of it?”

  “Paris?” Lady Judith’s smile was fixed.

  “I’m sorry, here you are in mourning, and I’m relating obscure events. Please forgive me.”

  “You are quite forgiven, Lady Phoebe.” Lady Judith exhaled.

  “I must admit, though, I was somewhat surprised to hear from you today. What with the funeral tomorrow.”

  Lady Judith dropped her chin. “That’s just it, Phoebe. I can’t be alone in the house for another minute. The Marquess was going to marry me. I suppose I have bad luck.” Judith sighed. “Now, please, don’t worry. I’ll be fine, but I feel so alone.” She broke into a torrent of sobs.

  Phoebe was distressed. What must she do? It was as if every fibre of her being told her not to get involved. But, she couldn’t stand it when others were upset.

  Without warning, Phoebe was pulled into the maelstrom. “You poor dear. Lady Judith, you may stay here with me tonight. Would you like that? I’ll ask Mary to make up my mother’s former bedchamber for you. How callous of me not to have thought of this sooner.” Phoebe embraced the crying woman.