by Gill, Tamara
Elena doubted that could be the case. How could she walk back into society and not long for the man she had left in Somerset? If only he had told her he loved her before knowing she was an heiress, a princess. Then she would know that his love was true.
Perhaps all men made such passionate, sweet love to women, and she was no one particularly special. For all she knew, he may have up and left for London had her sisters not arrived and married another under her nose. Now she would never know what could have happened or if her opinion of him was correct or utterly wrong. At this point, she did not know what to believe.
He may have also stayed and declared everlasting love to you...
"If he loves you, Elena, he will travel to London and chase your skirts about town, fighting for your hand and trust. He will soon get over the shock of knowing you are royal and remember that you touched his heart. Nothing will keep him from your side, not even his hatred for King George."
Hope sparked within her at her sister's words. Holly had always been wise, and Elena hoped what she said did indeed come true. "Do you think so?" But then, was she ready to believe his love even if offered after knowing who she was and what that meant for his family? She would be a financial savior to him, but she wanted to be so much more than that.
"Of course I think so," Holly declared, settling back in the squabs. "And if he does not, then he is a fool not worth your hand."
Alessa sighed, again staring at her husband, who was also staring at his wife. Elena fought not to roll her eyes at the couple, who appeared more in love now than when they first married.
"But if anything has happened between you that progressed further than words or maybe even a kiss, then that changes things, Elena," Alessa declared, her pitch light, but her words marked with immovable steel.
"That is true," Holly added. "You must marry him if your relationship with Lord Lyon has progressed so far as to put you at risk of carrying his child, no matter if he dislikes royalty and you dislike people using you for what you can give them."
Elena's cheeks burned, and she fought not to blurt out the truth. Her sisters stared at her with unnerving calculation. As if they were trying to read her mind. She waved their concerns away, not willing to tell them everything. Not yet, at least. "Nothing of the kind occurred. Please do not ask me again," she lied, some things best kept to herself and not others. They had only been together one night. She would not know for weeks if she were with child or not. As her friend Margaret had stated to her, it was unlikely that a woman ever fell enceinte the first time she was intimate with a man.
"I'm happy to hear it," Holly said, a small smile quirking her lips. "We will be back in London tomorrow morning, and then we shall reenter society and hope Lord Lyon realizes his heart is no longer his own and returns to town."
"It does not change the fact that Elena will not know if he loves her for herself or her money. How will we know he loves our sister and not merely the fact she could save him from losing his estate?"
A question Elena had been asking herself all morning.
"I do not know how he will prove his worth, but he did not seem a stupid kind of man. I'm certain he will make amends and come to his senses. Only a fool would allow Elena, princess or companion, to slip through his fingers."
"Valid point, sister," Alessa agreed. "Let us hope he is not one of those."
Elena chewed her bottom lip, hoping her sisters were right, but a little piece of dread bubbled away inside of her, and she could not help but think her life was about to get a lot more complicated before it became anything else.
* * *
It was three weeks before Elena heard the first whispers of Lord Lyon's escapades in London since his arrival the day after her own. The whispers confirming Elena's worst fears. Lord Lyon, Theo as she still affectionately thought him, was indeed, stupid.
Or he was acting as one of the most foolish men she had ever known. Tonight would be her first time out in society since her rendezvous to Somerset, but Alessa had called earlier that afternoon and regaled all that she had witnessed of Lord Lyon's escapades of the night before at the Johnson’s ball.
Elena thought that since he had never seen her as anything but his mama's companion, that tonight he would see her for who she truly was. On the outside, at least. She knew he disliked royalty, vehemently so, but would he continue to carry that hatred over to her? She had not been the one to have gambled with his father.
While she felt for Theo, and the loss of a parent he suffered, to hold a grudge against her was absurd.
One could say the same to you about disbelieving his feelings when you know he loves you.
Elena stepped into the ballroom of Lord and Lady Hargrove. Her sister the queen announced to those in attendance before her, and Alessa followed. She entered behind each of them, raising her chin as they made their way into the room. There was little fooling anyone that they were the highest part of society which one could climb. The deep bows and curtsies as they passed, the warm welcomes and sighs of wonder followed them at every event.
Of all the people who were there, Elena only wanted to see one gentleman here this evening. To see for herself if he would fight for her or discard her as she feared he was doing. They positioned themselves near a partially open window that gifted them with a cooling breeze in the stifling hot weather London, and England too, were suffering through.
Thankfully her friend Lady Villiers joined them and pulled Elena away. She went willingly, only too happy to catch up with her friend instead of standing by her sisters to be ogled like some ancient, priceless relic.
Margaret dipped into a curtsy before bussing her cheeks. "Your Highness, how lovely to see you again. I missed you at the house party, and I must apologize for what has occurred. I know that your sisters fetched you from Somerset as fast as their carriage would carry them to you."
Elena fought not to roll her eyes, knowing that if they had not arrived, she may have known by now if Theo did, in fact, love her for herself and not for what she could give him. She would know if his love for her overrode his long-held hatred of the crown.
She sighed. "Yes, they did as you can see, and while I'm happy to see them again and you as well, their arrival at Lord Lyon's estate brought with it more trouble than my being there ever had."
"Do tell?" Margaret asked, intrigued.
Elena told her of her happenings there. Of her friendship at first with his lordship and then the mutual attraction that blossomed. She dare not tell anyone that she had given herself to him, but even now, she could not help but wish their parting had been different. That had he merely said those three little words, they may already be married and happily so.
"He is here, do you know?" Margaret asked, taking two glasses of wine from a passing footman and handing one to Elena.
Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again. It had been three weeks since they had parted. It felt like a lifetime, and she was yet to see what he was doing about London that was the current on dit. If Alessa was right and he was here seeking a rich wife, notably not her, she would know he had acted falsely in Somerset. Or was too pigheaded to admit when he was wrong.
"I did not know if he had arrived as yet," she answered, fighting the urge to glance about the room.
Margaret scoffed. "I'm surprised you did not feel the heat of his gaze upon your person when you entered the room. His gaze did not move from you, and I do believe his mouth was gaping quite unfashionably."
Elena swallowed her nerves, wondering if he were watching her now. "I will need to speak to him at some point, I suppose. But if he ignores me, then I shall know the truth, that he is like so many men of our acquaintance." But the bitter pill that Theo was just another rogue, financially bankrupt, and looking for salvation was hard to swallow. She so wanted him to be different. To prove he was who she needed him to be. That he may not be was too heartbreaking for words.
Chapter 21
Three weeks he had lived with
out Elena, and it was the longest three weeks of his life. Having arrived in London a day after the princess, he had thrown himself into society, attending every ball and party he was invited to. He rode each morning in the park and at the fashionable hour, doing the pretty by those he needed to concentrate on, winning over their mamas and paying endless compliments.
The whole time he felt like an old, creepy man trying to rob a baby from a cradle. None of the young, rich debutantes took his fancy. None of them were interesting or could hold a conversation above those of horses or fashion. The three weeks in town were the worst of his life, and his mother's words kept repeating like a drum in his mind.
Do not return home unless you have her in hand. I will never forgive you if you bugger this up, Theo.
He knew what the gossips were saying about him in London. That he was after a rich wife in need of a title. Any family on the up and up who needed the aristocracy to get there ought to apply. That Lord Lyon would do perfectly well.
Several nights he had drunk away his woes at his club, regretting his choice, not just imbibing, but also his intention to cast Elena to the wind. To allow his hatred of royalty, the grudge he held toward them to spill over into his feelings for Elena. To allow her to find love not brought on by the love of her wealth.
He was sick of wishing he had told her he loved her earlier. There was no changing that fact now. But worse was he knew she had heard the rumors about him in London. There wasn't a person present who had not. That he was seeking a rich bride and had not once attempted to reach out and speak to her.
He hated to think what she thought of him. She undoubtedly thought him the false rogue who slept with unmarried companions and then discarded them when they were not whom he believed. He needed to fix the error of his ways. Throw away his pigheadedness and fight for what he wanted.
Elena...
Theo remembered to breathe at the sight of her as she arrived for the Hargrove Ball. He had never seen anyone of such beauty, of regal elegance. She was utter perfection, and his chest hurt at the sight of what he may have lost.
Elena looked perfectly at ease in this society, as a pillar of what others fought to achieve. She was achingly beautiful, and memories of their one night beside the river swam through his mind.
Her laughter and sweet smile. Her intoxicating kisses that he wanted with a need that frightened him.
She had lied, yes. She was royal, a position he had loathed for so long he did not know any different. Even now, he found it hard to believe his mother's words regarding his father that his parent had been a compulsive gambler, willing to risk anything so long as he was dealt a hand.
Granted, Theo had been a young man, barely sixteen when his father had died. What his mother stated could be true, for how much had he really known his father? Very little when he thought about it. His father was rarely home and did nothing with him when he was back on holiday from Eton.
His mother would not lie, and she knew her husband better than Theo ever would know his father. He had determined, therefore, that what she stated had to be true.
But then, where did that leave him and Elena?
For the hundredth time, he cursed himself a fool for not telling her how much he cared for her, loved her. How he wished he had said so beside the river. How he wished her sisters had not arrived and he could have said it in the library.
Now she would never believe him, and he knew to marry her, to declare himself now would make him look a liar. His pride told him to let her go, but his heart could not.
It wanted her and no one else.
He sipped his whisky, remembering a saying his mother had mentioned to him before he left for London. That pride always came before the fall.
He caught sight of Elena through the crowd, wanting her with a need that would not abate.
"Lord Lyon, may I introduce myself correctly? I'm Sir Rowan Oakley, Princess Alessa's husband." Sir Oakley held out his hand, and Theo shook it, surprised the gentleman had sought him out. Especially after their short and to-the-point meeting three weeks ago in Somerset.
"Sir Oakley, good to see you again," he lied, not wanting a confrontation, certainly not at the Hargrove ball. He had enough of arguments these past weeks, most of them with himself.
Sir Oakley sipped his whisky, coming to watch the ton at his side. "I come in peace, I should add, my lord. I know what it is to love a woman so far above one's station to think one is not worthy. The other week at your estate, I felt as though the events caught you unaware. Have you thought over Princess Elena's possible involvement in your life? Do you care for her enough to love and protect her always?"
Theo adjusted his cravat, uncertain whether he could trust Sir Oakley with his answers. He was related to Elena, after all. His loyalty was to her.
"I do not know what Her Highness has explained to you, but I require a wealthy bride to restore my family's fortunes. Princess Elena wants a marriage of love and affection like her sisters. Even if I offered such a future, she would not accept me. I had a chance to ask for her hand before finding out the truth of her life, and I did not. She would not believe me.”
"Have you asked her?" Sir Oakley raised a skeptical brow. "I have found that the truth, when spoken from an honest place, is believed. You should ask her and see. She may surprise you." Sir Oakley downed the last of his whisky. "But should you continue to court women as you have been these past weeks, continue to be the talk of the ton, you will lose Elena forever. It is something to consider when following a course that is not the one you should travel." Sir Oakley slapped him on the shoulder and left, walking back to where Princess Alessa and Elena stood with Lady Villiers.
What would he say to Elena? Throw himself at her feet and beg forgiveness for being such a dolt in Somerset? He rubbed a hand over his jaw, knowing he had to change his ways—tonight and not tomorrow. Tomorrow may be too late.
His heart stopped at the sight of Elena being led out onto the ballroom floor by Lord Legar.
The sight of her clasped on another man's arm left a sour taste in his mouth. There was little chance he could stand by and watch her marry.
She had not looked at him the entire night, and he wanted her to look at him now. To see what her being in another man's hold was doing to him—ripping his heart out and trampling it with her silk, diamond-encrusted slippers.
That she was royal no longer factored in his decision. He knew she was dubious of him, but he did love her, and she would come to believe him in time. He would spoil her, dote on and love her with everything he had. She would later think herself a fool for thinking he did not.
Not that he truly believed her to be foolish. She was scared of making the wrong choice of having a loveless marriage that would last a lifetime. But he knew better, knew very well she had no reason to be fearful of him. They may have started not as truthful with each other as they ought, but they would not end that way.
They would not end at all.
Chapter 22
Elena's feet ached as she sat down to supper later that evening. Her sister the queen had left earlier, needing to attend another event. Alessa and her husband, Sir Oakley, were the only two who remained, acting as chaperones.
Elena sat with Alessa and her friend Margaret, not the least hungry as her stomach churned at the sight of Theo seated with a group of gentlemen and several ladies at a nearby table. All of whom seemed quite rapt in their conversation with the marquess.
Was he looking at the pretty young debutantes as potential future brides? She fought to mask her emotions, but she could feel herself welling up at the notion of him marrying someone whom was not her.
"The man has been watching you all evening, Elena. The longing alone in his eyes should be enough to tell you that he's utterly in love with you, even if he has not stated so."
Alessa's words pulled Elena from her muddled thoughts and whether she should flee the ball and return home never to venture out again. Or even better than that, return to Atharia and join a
nunnery.
"He never told me and has not sought me out here in London. What am I supposed to surmise from that? I shall tell you what I suppose, that he does not care for me at all. Certainly does not love me as I had hoped." As much as she loved him, even though she too may not have said the words, it was only right that a gentleman declare it first.
Her brother-in-law, Rowan, ate the last of his crab. "As a man and one who has spoken to Lord Lyon this very night, I will tell you that I think you're wrong in believing his feelings for you are superficial. When I joined him, his attention was fixed on you, not anyone else. No matter what you may have heard, I think it's a ploy. I think he is trying to persuade himself that his pride is more important than his heart. You wounded the poor fellow, you see, Elena."
"How so?" Both Elena and Alessa said in unison.
Rowan grinned, leaning across the table to ensure privacy. "You cut off his bullocks in a sense. He does not want to marry for money but needs to keep his estate and everyone who relies on him safe. But he fell in love with a companion, a woman playing a game, and he feels cheated. The woman he fell in love with does not exist, not in the way he thought she did. He wants to marry the princess she truly is, but he would be known as a fortune hunter, a term spoken aloud already in some ballrooms."
Elena supposed that could be true. She fought not to roll her eyes at her own thoughts. Of course it was true—all of it.
"You want a love match, but do not trust yourself to know when you've found one. I know you wanted him to say those words to you before he found out who you are, but you would be a simpleton indeed if you threw him aside because you do not believe what your heart is telling you as truth and trusted your mind instead."
Alessa nodded, silent as she took in her husband's reading of the situation. "I do believe Rowan is correct, Elena. What does your heart tell you?" she asked her.
