Lord Edward was considered to be a most fortunate card player for he displayed remarkable skill at the gaming tables. He always smiled and offered his fellow players a warm handshake when the games were done and he was filling his purse with his prize of gold coins.
On the final night of Cordelia’s stay in London, she was sipping her glass of punch and watching the other guests in the elegant ballroom, when someone touched her bare shoulder and gently moved an artfully trailing curl of her lovely auburn hair aside. She turned and stared into the pale grey eyes of Lord Edward Fitzhugh, and her heart nearly stopped beating.
He bowed to her, and when he looked up again he was smiling.
“Your servant, my Lady.”
Miss Millpost, standing beside Cordelia, seemed on the verge of apoplexy when she noticed that the young Lord was being far too familiar with her charge, and without a formal introduction!
Cordelia, well used to Miss Millpost, was aware of her disapproval, and ignored it. Miss Millpost would, no doubt, berate her soundly later. She was more interested in what Lord Edward had to say, than in Miss Millpost’s opinion at that moment.
He looked into Cordelia’s eyes and she found the intensity of his attention flattering, if almost unnerving.
“Pray, my Lady, would you grant me the boon of your favour and let me hear from your lips the sound of your name? For ‘tis a perfect misery to my heart to behold your loveliness and not know how to address you.”
At this rather overly dramatic pronouncement, Miss Millpost coughed so loudly that people in the vicinity turned to see if she were having a spasm, or a fit of the vapours.
“Sir!” she finally spoke with a steely edge to her voice. “You may address that question to me, for I am sure that you have not been formally introduced to the young lady and that you presume too much by speaking to her!”
The young lord laughed.
“The fault is entirely mine for forgetting my manners in the presence of such beauty. I was bewitched and enchanted by the lady’s smile and I no longer know what I do.”
Cordelia nearly clapped her hands in delight at his poetic manner, but managed to restrain herself beneath the watchful gaze of the disapproving Miss Millpost, who continued to speak to him firmly.
“Sirrah, I will have none of your poetry and nonsense! This is the elder daughter of the Baron Tillingford whose estates lie but two days’ ride from London and whose family are well known to His Majesty the King! Who might you be, to presume so rudely to speak to her?”
Fitzhugh bowed deeply before Cordelia, with a dramatic sweep of his arm that brought his forefinger to almost touching the marble floor at the young lady’s feet, before drawing himself up to his full height and declaring, “And I am Lord Edward Fitzhugh, my Lady, and I am at your service.”
Cordelia almost stuttered in the presence of the young Lord, so swept away by his looks and manner did she feel, but she made an attempt at appropriate behaviour, nonetheless.
“I am not at all certain, my Lord, that this represents a suitable introduction, to allow me to speak with you, within the bounds of propriety.”
“Those foolish conventions apply only to the lesser mortals who strut but briefly upon this globe of dust and dreams. But you are divine, my Lady, a goddess, Venus herself come down from lofty Olympus to earth to torment the hearts of mere men and you have stolen both my wits and my heart, which I give to thee most gladly!”
Cordelia began to suspect that her heart would burst out of her chest as her face lit up with undisguised joy.
“I am Lady Cordelia, my Lord,” she said, as she curtsied, “and I pray that I do not intrude too heavily upon your sensibilities.”
“The intrusion is an oasis of perfect delight in this warren of the mediocre. Does a goddess require refreshment? More punch perhaps?”
Miss Millpost chose that moment to step purposefully between the couple.
“You have a way with words, Sirrah, and a pretty turn of phrase. Perhaps we should all go to the punch bowl to seek refreshment and ensure that the Lady’s honour and reputation remain as pure and unsullied as they were when we first arrived.”
With that, Miss Millpost took a firm grip on Cordelia’s elbow and guided her in the direction of the long, white damasked refreshment table. She barely acknowledged the young Lord’s presence, speaking only to Cordelia as they walked.
“It is insufferably warm in here and I believe a glass of punch would be most welcome to my poor dry throat.”
Lord Edward took up station on the other side of Cordelia as the trio walked towards the crystal punch bowl. He waved away the servant with a brush of his hand.
“Dearest Lady, permit me.”
He filled a glass with a small measure of the bright red liquid and offered it to Cordelia. As she took it in her lace-gloved hands, Edward filled a second glass to the brim and handed it to her companion.
“Your good health, Madame,” he nodded at Miss Millpost as he raised his own glass in a simple toast, “and here’s to your happiness and the loveliness of your eyes, Lady Cordelia.”
He noticed how quickly Miss Millpost downed her punch, and quickly offered her a second.
“Thank you, Sir. I had not realised quite how thirsty one may become at these grand occasions.”
By the time that Miss Millpost had consumed her third measure of punch, she was beginning to feel a little dizzy, and a little unsteady on her feet.
“Pray, child, but the heat is becoming too much for me and I fear I must sit.” Cordelia helped her to an elegantly embroidered couch and eased her onto the seat where Miss Millpost promptly closed her eyes and fell soundly, but not noiselessly, asleep. Cordelia placed a cushion beneath her head for comfort and support, and the older lady began to snore softly. A small chuckle caught her attention.
When she turned her head, she discovered that Lord Edward was standing behind her.
“My dear Lady. It would appear that the kind hand of Fate has cast us adrift without the restraining anchor of your companion.” He smiled broadly at the young woman. “Perhaps you would care to accompany me for a while and enthral me with tales of life on your father’s estate?”
They spent the next half hour standing in front of a wide fireplace, chatting to each other as the split logs crackled and the dancing flames lent their warmth and gaiety to the room. Lord Edward proved to be a most attentive listener and smiled at every nuance and detail that Cordelia shared with him.
For his part, he said very little, preferring to listen to the young heiress whilst cleverly eluding her questions with humour and evasive replies, implying that, despite his wealth and titles, he really didn’t take himself too seriously. He seemed effortlessly charming, an open book, a man of wealth and position who only played cards for the fun of the sport, a man who enjoyed seeing his wealthy young friends squeal with horror whenever they lost. Which seemed to happen a lot.
A sudden and dramatic cough interrupted the young couple as Miss Millpost approached with a bleary eye and a slight waver in her gait.
“Ah! There you are, Lady Cordelia. I was resting my eyes for a moment and when I opened them again, you were gone.”
Cordelia tried not to laugh.
“Yes, Miss Millpost, I saw that you were resting and I could not bring myself to disturb you. So I waited for you here by the warmth of the hearth and Lord Edward kindly volunteered to keep me company until you felt refreshed.”
The companion cast a critical eye over Lord Edward and nodded her head.
“I see. Very thoughtful of the gentleman. Very thoughtful indeed. Well, we must be away. It is already late. I shall summon our carriage, for you will need your rest, if you are to be fresh for tomorrow’s activities.”
She turned on her heel and went to find a footman. Lord Edward murmured in Cordelia’s ear, so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her skin.
“She could probably outdrink half the men under service in His Majesty’s Navy!” Cordelia laughed
at his words, even as she felt a tingling warmth flow through her when the young Lord touched the tips of her fingers with his own. “And I would see you again, if you would permit me, sweet Lady Cordelia.”
She smiled as she looked into his pale eyes.
“We leave for my home tomorrow morning, but I am sure that you would always be welcome to visit,” she hesitated for a heartbeat, “for I would always be pleased to see you, Lord Edward.”
Miss Millpost stepped back into the room and immediately seized the hand that she saw was far too close to the young Lord’s fingertips. “Time to go, Lady Cordelia, time to go. Lord Edward, it was a pleasure meeting you. We shall take our leave and be on our way now.”
“Farewell, Lord Edward,” Cordelia spoke as she was half coaxed, half pulled from the room, “’til we meet again.”
He bowed his head and blew a gentle kiss to her that she could’ve sworn had sailed across the widening gap that was opening between them and brushed against the smoothness of her beautiful cheek. She raised a gloved hand to her face in an attempt to hold the impression of the kiss upon her face for the rest of eternity.
Lady Cordelia Branley, Baron Tillingford’s beautiful elder daughter, was hopelessly in love.
………..
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Being Lady Harriet's Hero: Sweet and Clean Regency Romance (His Majesty's Hounds Book 4) Page 12
