by Gill, Tamara
She was everything he had ever wanted in a wife. Kind and gentle, honest and forthright. No meek and mild miss, but not too boisterous to be unladylike. Miss Smith was simply perfect.
And as broke as you are, he reminded himself.
He thumped the bed with his fists, remembering the afternoon with her in the ballroom. He had wanted to kiss her. Had wanted to take her sweet lips and kiss them senselessly. He ran a hand over his jaw, aching for her still, and knowing he would never have her.
Someone else would marry her, a gentleman of her class.
He fisted his hands into the sheets, hating the idea of such a thing. He did not want her married at all. Not to anyone but him, at least.
You cannot have her.
He sat up as a sound outside his window caught his attention. He threw back the bedding and strode to the window, looking out onto the terrace below.
A woman in a night rail and gray shawl sat on the stone seats that ran along the terrace railings, a bright little light flickering in the darkness sporadically.
He frowned. Did Elena smoke? Curiosity got the better of him, and he strode from his room, determined to ask her of her habit, even if it was merely an excuse to spend more time with her.
It did not take him long to reach the terrace, and he came upon her just as she was butting the cheroot out on the dirt of a potted plant.
"Terrible habit, Miss Smith. I did not think ladies liked smoking cheroots," he teased her, smiling as her eyes widened at being caught smoking, and outdoors at this late hour.
Tonight at least, she wore a shawl over her night rail. Even so, he knew very well what she looked like under her gown. He had seen her in all her beautiful glory when her gown gaped in his study. Ogling her had been most inappropriate conduct he should not have partaken in, but he had not been able to help it. He had seen her and his mind refused to work after that fact. Each day since, and the more he came to know her, the more he wanted her with a hunger that scared him.
He could not dally with her. He could offer her nothing, but still, he found himself stepping out onto the terrace and seating himself beside her.
She smelled of sweet lavender, and he breathed deep, savoring everything he could about her person.
She chuckled, and her laugh made his lips twitch. "You weren't supposed ever to find out my vices, my lord. Can you pretend never to have found me and remain ignorant?" she asked him, meeting his gaze.
"I could never remain ignorant of you, Elena." And that was the crux of his problems. Now that she had stepped into his life, all others paled before her beauty, her sweet nature, and kind heart. Poor or not, he could see himself giving it all up, losing everything if only she would agree to be his.
But it is not only you. You have tenants, your mother, the staff, so many mouths depend on you keeping the estate and the lands you have left.
"You should not say such things, my lord," she stated, her voice hard, and shame ran through him.
She thought him a rogue, a gentleman who wanted to climb under her skirts and nothing more. And she was right. A part of him wanted her that way, but that was not the only way either. He simply did not have the means to give them both what they wanted, and he had King George to thank for that.
"I know I should not, but I find myself unable to stop thinking about you," he admitted, needing to tell her the truth no matter the consequences. He met her gaze, wanting to see her face and read her as much as he could. A small frown line sat between her brows, her mouth pursed into a thin line. "I can offer you nothing but friendship, Miss Smith. I would be lying if I told you that I do not want to kiss you. I want to kiss you until the sun comes up in the eastern sky, but I will not. Were I only rich enough, your rank and mine would not impede my courtship of you."
A small smile lifted her lips, and she reached out, clasping his cheek. He felt her touch, deep in his soul. How was he ever to let her go? How could he marry another when she drew him in so much more than anyone ever had in his life?
"I would like to be your friend, Theo. I do not have many I trust in my life, but I believe you may be one whom I can."
"Friendship will do very well, Elena." It would have to suffice as they were never able to be more than that. Not if he were to keep a roof over his head and everyone else’s who relied on him.
She would forever be a regret, the woman in his life he let slip through his fingers, but there was little he could do about it. His current circumstances were unsurmountable without a rich bride, and as heart wrenching as the truth was, Miss Smith could never be the one to save them all.
* * *
The dowager watched from an upstairs window as her son and Princess Elena spoke on the terrace below. She narrowed her eyes, wondering why they both looked so very pensive and grave. Sad, one could say as well, but why?
Had something happened between them that they did not like? Elena, in particular, appeared torn. The young lady really ought to own up to who she was, and she would speak to the princess about being truthful to her son tomorrow and see what she said.
How absurd for them both to leave the other behind simply because one needed a rich wife, and the other was pretending not to be wealthy, merely to hide from the ton for a month.
But to tell her son the truth would be breaking a promise she had made to Elena. She knew of the troubles the princesses had endured the last few years from their wicked uncle and then his thugs who tried to further dirty Atharia's water by causing trouble here in England.
Elena had been held captive at the castle in Atharia by her uncle, and the dowager could only imagine the horrors she endured there. It did not surprise her that the young woman had fled London looking for peace.
She kept behind the curtain, watching as the princess clasped her son's cheek. The dowager had an overwhelming urge to stamp her foot. They were simply perfect for each other and seemed to get along well enough too.
Not everyone had such ease with another, and they would be fools indeed to let what they so obviously felt for each other pass.
"Well," she huffed. "I will not allow you both to mess up a grand match, and my matchmaking skills will simply have to be improved," she mumbled to herself, determined to have her son married and to Elena before the Season was over.
Chapter 12
Elena carried the tray of broth and a hot cup of tea up to the dowager's room three days later after her ladyship had complained of a sore throat and a runny nose.
Since then, she had come down with a terrible cold and had gone so far as to ask her son to stay at the estate and not travel to London, even though his lordship had yet to agree to her request.
At this stage, Elena was starting to wonder if Lord Lyon would ever travel to London to find his rich bride. So many things had happened to keep him in the country, and she couldn't help but wonder why the poor gentleman was so unlucky.
Thankfully today, Elena had received mail from her friend Lady Villiers, Margaret, stating all was well at Kew Palace and that she had posted the first missive to Elena's sister in London. She had also enclosed a letter from Alessa that had arrived for her.
Apparently, there was nothing new and not a lot to report from town. Alessa seemed settled and had not mentioned traveling to Kew Palace to join the house party, even though she too had been invited. All good news and information that allowed Elena to breathe easier.
Had her sister decided to change her mind and travel to Kew, Elena would have had to leave, and she did not want to go anywhere. The thought of watching Lord Lyon depart the estate had left her more disillusioned than she ever thought to feel. In truth, she did not know his lordship very well, but her body seemed to ignore that fact and jump and shiver at the mere sight of him. She had never reacted to another gentleman so, and therefore she could not ignore her reactions to his lordship, could she?
The door to the dowager's bedroom was ajar, and Elena pushed it open, coming into the room to see Lord Lyon standing beside the bed, conversing with his mama
.
"Oh, excuse me, my lady. Do you want me to leave and come back? I did not mean to intrude."
The dowager waved her into the room. "No, stay, Miss Smith. Theo was just explaining to me that now that I'm unwell, he will postpone his trip to London once again. I'm sure in a week or so, I shall be back to rights, and he can travel to town."
An absurd amount of hope thrummed through her veins at the knowledge that his lordship was not leaving them today. That he was staying made her want to smile, but she dare not. Instead, she schooled her features and reminded herself she had not traveled to Somerset to find a husband but to look after her mother's oldest friend and take some time away from society.
Of course, she had not expected the handsome, utterly seductive Lord Lyon, Theo, to remain here.
Her ladyship held up the newspaper she was reading, patting the bed for Elena to place the tray. "I was telling Theo that the Queen of Atharia has arrived in London, and her sister, Princess Alessa, has announced a new women's shelter to be built near Bath. How lovely of them to care for more than their own people but those of their husband's motherland. I believe they both married Englishmen if I'm not mistaken."
"They did indeed," Elena said without thinking and closing her mouth with a snap before she said anything else. Like how much she adored her new brothers-in-law and the attention and love they doted on her elder sisters.
His lordship slumped onto a chair beside the bed, his face one of disdain. "More royalty who flaunt their wealth and think that they must save everyone. They live a life of luxury and little purpose while the poor, the children in the orphanages and shelters, live off scraps of food and clothing. They only help to increase their egos."
Elena frowned, hurt piercing her heart at his unkind words. Not to mention she knew very well what he spoke was untrue. "Princess Alessa's shelter for women is one of the best in England, if not Europe. The women who go there are fed and clothed and not walking about in rags, as you put it. I would suggest you correct your statement if you're going to pronounce untruths."
The dowager sipped her tea, her eyes wide and going back and forth between his lordship and herself. Elena narrowed her eyes on the marquess, wondering why his tone was so scathing toward a family he did not know. She knew he disliked his own sovereign, was his dislike of royalty extended to those from other countries as well?
"You approve of royalty lining their own pockets, living off the public purse, while their people suffer, starve and die of such malnutrition and neglect daily?" He shook his head, dismissing her. "I apologize if I offend you, Miss Smith, but I cannot agree. I do not think any royal family, including the one here in England, should be the ruler of the country. They are out for what they can get, not caring about who they trample on their way to endless wealth. I cannot support such a dominion. Not now or ever."
His lordship stood and strode from the room. Elena stared after him, unsure of what had just occurred. He was so very angry, so very scathing of royal families and their charitable nature. Whatever would he think of her when he found out the truth of her life, who she was?
Would he hate her too?
"He does not mean what he says, my dear. He holds King George responsible for the loss of our land that made our circumstances more difficult. The lands, you see, supplied the majority of our income from harvests."
Elena slumped into a nearby chair, having not known that. "How is it that he thinks my sister's charitable nature is so very bad? She is only trying to help those without means to help themselves."
The marchioness reached out, taking her hand. "He does not mean it. He is angry and has held a grudge against the royal family since the day his father died. Do not concern yourself further regarding his thoughts on royalty. You are not here for my son, and he is not courting you, so you needn't worry about what he thinks."
Her ladyship’s words were, of course, true. Even so, her thoughts on Lord Lyon had changed these past days to ones she did not understand herself. "He will not always know me as Miss Smith. He will think even less of me now, knowing that I am, in fact, a princess. He will think I came to Somerset to make a fool of him and trick him as to my true identity. If anything, it will make him dislike royalty even more." Elena swallowed the panic that rose inside her. She could change his mind about her family and royalty, surely. He could not blame her for what happened between his father and the king.
"No, he will not," the duchess rebuked, but even Elena could see that her ladyship did not quite believe her own words. That she was concerned what Elena said was true. "You are not here for my son, and therefore he has no reason to consider you as a future bride. Or think that you tricked him merely to get closer to his person. You are here for me, which is true. Everything else that has occurred is merely a matter of circumstance."
Elena cringed, hating that his lordship thought so lowly of royal families, not just the English one, but hers too. A little unfair, in her opinion.
"I think I shall have rest now, my dear. Thank you for the tea, but would you mind calling in on me in an hour or so?"
"Of course," Elena said, standing and leaving the marchioness alone. She walked from the room, closing the door softly behind her. Elena looked up and down the passage, thinking of where Lord Lyon would be.
She needed to be anywhere but where he was. After their waltz last evening and then his opinions on royalty today, it was probably best that they keep apart. Keep to being friends and kept their distance.
That he would be remaining here for a few more days was a complication she had not thought to face, but she was a grown woman and capable of keeping him at bay and her emotions locked away. She was a princess, after all, and a master at hiding emotions when duty called.
* * *
Elena was able to avoid Lord Lyon for two days following his mother's sudden illness. He did not state if he noticed that she was not dining or breaking her fast in the morning with him. She assumed he understood she was with his mama, whom she had started to think was making a remarkable recovery and hardly looked ill at all.
Except when her son came to visit her, and then she seemed to wilt like a flower on a cool, frosty morning.
Today Elena was given a little time to explore the gardens. She had seen the river, but she wanted to visit the maze she had spied out the ballroom windows several days before.
She pulled a bonnet onto her head and exited the house through the terrace doors, starting for the overgrown maze. It was several feet higher than herself, and should she get lost within its paths, she would not be able to look over the top and work her way out of her predicament.
Even so, Elena entered the maze, confident that she would be able to make her way through the puzzle. She was a master of the mazes back at their estate in Atharia, and this one was a lot smaller, if not a lot more wild than she was used to.
For several minutes she wandered through the paths, turning here and there. There were small statues hidden in the foliage at several locations, an old shoe, and even a broken chair, which she had not thought to find. Did Lord Lyon even know what was in his maze?
The maze opened out into a clearing, and a large rectangular fishpond, dry and without waterlilies or fish, came into view. She wandered around it, able to picture easily how beautiful it once must have been. What a shame that it was all going to ruin and waste.
She turned, looking for where she entered and found the location, but after several minutes and returning each time to the pond, Elena started to think that this maze had beaten her at her expert skills after all.
No one knew where she was, a silly mistake that she had not thought to tell anyone before she left the house. She looked up at the estate, trying to see if anyone on the first floor may be watching her progress. No one stood at the windows. Even so, for a few minutes, she waved her arms about, trying to gain anyone's attention.
Elena slumped onto the side of the pond, listening out for any gardener or any servants who she may hear outside.
&
nbsp; There was little she could do other than yelling out like a banshee but wait to be found. And with any luck, hopefully, that would be soon since it would grow dark in an hour or so, and she did not, under any circumstances, want to sleep outside. No matter how warm the night looked to be.
Chapter 13
Theo sent several maids to check the house's closed wings when Miss Smith failed to return to the house. He knew she had walked the gardens for a time, for a footman stated he had seen her earlier outside on the grounds.
Since then, no one had seen anything of her, not in the house nor grounds.
Theo left his concerned mother and raced back to the river. He feared finding her discarded clothing yet again beside the water's edge, but there was no sign Miss Smith had ever been there.
He skidded to a stop at the edge of the lake, thankful to find the area free of discarded clothing or anyone splashing about in the water. He turned, studying the grounds, thinking where she could have walked.
Had she strolled to the village? A possibility, but then at this late hour, surely she would have returned by now.
He started back to the house, walking the overgrown gardens before his attention snapped to the maze and the faint calling out from a feminine voice within it.
A grin lifted his lips. The maze was more difficult than people gave it credit, and certainly, it was even harder to navigate and remember the way in and out the more overgrown it became.
"Miss Smith," he called when he was close enough to hear that it was indeed Elena somewhere lost in the maze. "Where are you?"
He heard her mumble something before she called, "I'm at the pond at the maze's center. Please help me. I cannot seem to find my way out."
Theo made his way through the maze, making a few corrections himself as he headed toward the pond. It had been years since he had walked the paths, and the sight of the maze, and the poor condition it was in, left him disappointed. Everything about his home needed repair, money, so much more money than he had the ability to get his hands on.
