The Thoroughly Compromised Bride

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by Catherine Reynolds


  Elizabeth forced a smile as she retrieved her hand. “How good of you to call, sir.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “but not having seen you for the length of a whole day, my dear, I could not stay away. You will allow me, I know, to tell you that you are more lovely each time I see you.”

  “Thank you,” she said coolly, and to forestall any more of his fulsome compliments, she asked quickly, “How is your mother. Lord Braxton?”

  Lady Braxton, who lived with her son, was a robust woman who thrived on infirmity, going from one alarming malady to another.

  “I am very much afraid that she is not at all well,” said Lord Braxton somberly, and he launched into a lengthy description of his mother’s most recent sufferings.

  Nothing could have been more delightfully interesting to Emily, and she spent some time discussing a variety of cures and remedies with his lordship.

  With that topic finally exhausted, he entertained them with the newest on-dits from Town, and then favoured them with a detailed account of his latest improvements to his estate. Aunt Emily flattered and encouraged him throughout all this, while Elizabeth endured it stoically. By the end of the requisite half hour, when he stood to take his leave of them, she felt sure that had she been forced to listen for another moment to his prosing, she must have been provoked into screaming.

  “I shall call again tomorrow,” he promised them, “for I know you will wish to hear how my mother goes on.”

  “Oh, yes! We certainly shall!” Emily assured him. “You must call and tell us everything. Poor lady, how she does suffer!”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “and bears it so well.”

  Miss Godwin shook her head in wonderment. “It is truly amusing!”

  Elizabeth choked. “Amazing, Aunt.”

  “Yes, I knew you would think so, too.”

  Lord Braxton now gave an arch smile and said, “I had almost forgot! Among my reasons for calling was a wish to learn if I shall have the pleasure of seeing you dear ladies at the concert this evening.”

  “How delightful that would be!” Emily cried enthusiastically.

  “I am not at all sure that I feel up to going out this evening, Aunt. Let us discuss it later,” Elizabeth said hastily.

  “My dear Miss Ashton, I should be most distressed to hear that you are not feeling quite the thing,” Lord Braxton told her. “I do hope your indisposition will not keep you from the concert. I shall look for you there and shall be quite disappointed if I do not see you.”

  At that moment, Wiggons appeared to announce the arrival of Mr. Charles Carlyle. The name was unfamiliar to Elizabeth, and she looked questioningly at her aunt. But before she could ask the question that hovered on her lips, their guest had entered the room.

  Elizabeth turned, and her breath caught in her throat as she found herself gazing at the most handsome man she had ever beheld.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Considerably taller than the average, Charles Carlyle paused in the doorway of the morning room with an air of polite boredom, his glance slowly taking in the room and its occupants, and at last coming to rest on Elizabeth.

  He was dressed in tight-fitting breeches and highly polished topboots, his neckcloth was arranged to a nicety, and his coat of Bath superfine was exquisitely fashioned and fitted him like a glove. Yet no sartorial fussiness marred the elegance of his appearance.

  His black hair was brushed into the Brutus style and one unruly lock fell over his forehead, softening the otherwise austere visage with its slightly aquiline nose, high cheekbones, square jaw line and finely chiseled lips. All this Elizabeth saw before his intensely deep, blue eyes found and held hers irresistibly. For the space of several heartbeats they stood thus, until one of his dark brows arched questioningly, and his eyes narrowed in amusement.

  Brought abruptly back to an awareness of her surroundings, Elizabeth felt her cheeks suffuse with colour, and she could only be thankful when his attention was drawn from her by Aunt Emily, who exclaimed, “Oh, Charles! What a very pleasant surprise! But does this mean that Margaret is here in Bath? I had not expected it so soon.”

  The smile that Charles directed at Emily transformed his face, banishing all trace of arrogance and boredom, and bowing to her, he replied, “Why, yes ma’am, we arrived yesterday evening. My sister has charged me with delivering a message to you. She is all at sixes and sevens today getting settled in, but wishes me to tell you that she hopes to have all put to rights by tomorrow, and will call on you in the morning.”

  “So kind,” breathed Emily. “I shall so look forward to seeing her again. But where are my manners? Charles, you are equated with my niece, of course.”

  Charles appeared startled, and Elizabeth’s eyes danced as she interposed, “You mean acquainted, Aunt Emily.”

  “Yes, dear, that is what I said.”

  Charles looked at Elizabeth with both amusement and appreciation before answering Emily. “No, ma’am, I’ve not had that pleasure.”

  Emily frowned in puzzlement, saying, “No? I made sure... well, no matter. Elizabeth, this is Lady Langley’s brother, Charles Carlyle. Charles, my niece, Elizabeth Ashton.”

  By this time Elizabeth had recovered sufficient composure to extend her hand to him, and with a coolly polite smile, said, “Mr. Carlyle. How do you do?”

  He raised her hand slowly to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers and murmured, “Very well indeed. Miss Ashton. I had no idea, when I agreed to deliver Margaret safely to Bath, that it would prove to be such an interesting place.”

  It was Elizabeth’s turn to raise an eyebrow as she said, “No doubt you are referring to the Pump Room, the Assembly Rooms and our many other attractions.”

  “Just so! Especially the ‘other attractions.’“

  The corners of her mouth twitched in response to his wicked grin, but before she could make a suitable retort, a loud throat-clearing caused three pairs of startled eyes to swing round to the forgotten Lord Braxton, who was fairly quivering with indignation at having been ignored for so long.

  “Oh, my dear Lord Braxton,” gasped Emily, “we have been indulging in the most inexcludible behaviour! Pray, forgive us and allow me to make Mr. Carlyle known to you.”

  Charles gazed at Emily in fascination.

  Lord Braxton, his countenance stiffened with disapproval, said, “I am acquainted with Mr. Carlyle, and you will not object, I know, Miss Godwin, when I say that he is not a fit acquaintance for a delicately nurtured female such as Miss Ashton. It would be remiss of me were I not to inform you of this, and, indeed, a shirking of my duty as your friend.” He glared at Charles, who merely smiled sardonically as though he were enjoying the whole situation immensely.

  Elizabeth’s eyes flashed with anger. “Lord Braxton, you go too far! When I wish your advice as to whom I may be acquainted with, I shall tell you! But you were just leaving, were you not? We mustn’t detain you!”

  As a distressed Aunt Emily tried to smooth Lord Braxton’s ruffled feathers, Charles whispered, “Good girl!” into Elizabeth’s ear, and so inordinately pleased was she at this approbation that she had difficulty maintaining the quelling stare with which she was regarding Lord Braxton.

  His lordship very obviously had no wish to leave while Charles remained, but was unable to think of an appropriate excuse for staying. He said only, “Well, well, we shall speak of this another time when you are feeling more yourself. I shall look for you, dear ladies, this evening at the conceit.” With that, he finally took his leave.

  While Emily accompanied him to the door of the room, still talking soothingly, Elizabeth turned to Charles with laughter in her eyes and said in a low voice, “You must not encourage me in being rude to a guest.”

  “If giving that pompous toad a set-down he richly deserves is being rude, then I certainly shall encourage you! For that matter, why do you encourage him to dangle after you?”

  “No, no! I don’t! It’s Aunt Emily who does that! But it takes very little to encourage him, I fear,
for he has an excessively high regard for himself.”

  “Give him a damper and send him to rout,” he advised her.

  “Do you think I have not tried? I assure you I have, but the man is impervious to insults and rejections alike. Add to that the fact that he cannot bring himself to imagine that any female would not be thrown into transports by his attentions, and the situation becomes impossible.”

  “Would you like me to discourage him?” Charles laughed. “I could, you know.”

  “Good heavens! I’m afraid to ask how you might do it,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

  He smiled. “Oh, nothing too drastic—merely one of my famous set-downs. However, let’s not waste our time speaking of him. Tell me, instead, does your aunt always exhibit that peculiar manner of speech?’’

  She gave another gurgle of laughter. “Not always, but frequently. Especially when she is excited or overset, which is most of the time!”

  “But what an endless source of amusement for you,” he said, his eyes crinkling with laughter.

  “Yes,” she agreed. “But she is really a dear, and I don’t know how I should go on without her.”

  “Lends you countenance, in fact, does she?”

  “Exactly so!”

  Before he could reply to this. Aunt Emily returned from seeing Lord Braxton out, and they all sat down as she said, “What a pity that Lord Langley could not come with Margaret—not that I am not excessively happy to see you, Charles—but I do hope that he is not indisposed!”

  “Oh, as to that, I believe him to be as hale and hearty as ever. He always is, you know,” Charles replied.

  “Oh! Then I collect it is pressing estate business that prevents his being with us.”

  Charles laughed. “My dear lady, he never troubles himself with such matters. He has an excellent agent to handle all that for him. No! The only circumstance to prevent his being with us, I fear, is an excessive dislike of Bath, and a sad disinclination to do anything which might interfere with his own pleasures!”

  “Oh!” said Emily, disconcerted by such frankness.

  “You will have us believe, sir, that you hold an aversion to your brother-in-law,” Elizabeth remarked.

  “No, no!” he assured her. “I like him quite well. He is a most agreeable fellow.”

  “Well, it was kind of you to stand in for him,” she said.

  “Not at all!” he replied. “I could wish to leave you with that happy impression of me, but in the interest of honesty, I must confess that it was not kindness that induced me to give escort to my sister and niece. Margaret bullied me into it!”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I find it hard to believe that you can be bullied.”

  “How perceptive of you. Miss Ashton. In general, you are quite right, but when you know my sister better, you will see how it came about.”

  “Oh!” cried Emily. “I am very sure that Margaret would not wish to force upon you anything which you might not like! I am persuaded that you are quizzing us!”

  “Just so, ma’am,” he answered her gravely, but with a tell-tale quiver at the corner of his mouth.

  Such subtleties were lost on Emily, and happy to have been reassured on that point, she asked, “Will you be making a long stay in Bath, Mr. Carlyle?”

  “I had not planned on doing so,” he replied, and glancing at Elizabeth he continued, “However, now that I am here, it seems a shame not to stay.. .and enjoy all its attractions.”

  Elizabeth was furious to feel herself blushing, and was glad that the next few minutes were spent in nothing more than polite social conversation before Charles left them.

  When he had gone, she asked her aunt, “Why did you not tell me that Lady Langley’s brother would be with her?”

  “Oh, did I not?”

  “No, my dear, you did not.” Elizabeth paused for a moment, then asked, “Do you know him well?”

  “Well, no, for he is much younger than Margaret, and was away at school for much of the time when we were growing up.”

  “He seems a most interesting man,” Elizabeth remarked casually.

  “Yes,” said Emily uncertainly, and then added in a worried tone of voice, “Do you suppose that Lord Braxton may be right about him? I have heard.. .but nothing disrefutable. Oh, Elizabeth, it would be too mortifying to find that I have introduced you to a...a...”

  “A loose screw?” supplied Elizabeth mischievously.

  Emily’s eyes rounded in shock. “No, no! Oh, you mustn’t say such things! But, indeed, it would be very wrong in me to countenance an acquaintance between you and a... a man of unsalivary reputation!”

  Elizabeth, who had not, since the death of her father, enjoyed anyone’s company half so much, declared firmly, “Nonsense! I wish you will tell me how you might have avoided introducing us, and I saw nothing in him to take exception to. He seemed the perfect gentleman.” She quickly suppressed a twinge of conscience at having twisted the truth a little before adding, “At any rate, he is Lady Langley’s brother, so we cannot very well cut him. It wouldn’t be at all the thing to do! Besides which, I don’t imagine that he’ll remain here for long. A man such as he must find our small entertainments very dull stuff indeed.”

  She knew a feeling of disappointment at this thought, but her aunt appeared most relieved, and agreed happily, “Oh, yes. I feel sure you are right!” And, reaching for her tambour frame, she dismissed Mr. Charles Carlyle from her mind, a feat Elizabeth found much more difficult to accomplish.

  When, later, the subject of the concert was again brought up, Elizabeth consented to go, not even asking herself why it now seemed so desirable. However, an evening that should have been at least mildly enjoyable turned out to be strangely flat. All the while she listened to the music and made polite conversation, her eyes sought a tall, masculine figure with broad shoulders and a pair of keen, laughing blue eyes. It was to no avail, for he did not appear.

  On the return journey to Upper Camden Place, where she and Aunt Emily were escorted by Lord Braxton, Elizabeth was unusually quiet, merely giving the briefest of answers when any remark was addressed to her. She was feeling a vague sense of dissatisfaction, and a lowering of spirits which she was at a loss to understand. Upon arriving home, she immediately excused herself and retired to her bedchamber.

  She had planned and ordered her life exactly to her liking, never once regretting any of it. Before ever being launched among the ton, she had known that she would never marry where there was no love, and though she had received several very flattering offers, she had felt nothing more than mild liking for the men who had made them. So she had already considered the very real possibility that she might live out her life as a single woman even before that fateful house party, and had accepted that prospect with equanimity. Afterwards, of course, the matter was no longer one of choice, but of necessity, and still she had not been at all dismayed by it. Over the years she had seen enough marriages to feel that she was not missing anything. Few, if any, appeared happy enough to warrant relinquishing all control of oneself to some man. Fortunately, being comfortably circumstanced, she could afford to carve out a life of her own design. So why a future that had appeared entirely satisfactory and comfortable—even desirable—should now suddenly look rather bleak and dull was beyond her ability to fathom.

  By this time she was out of reason cross with herself for falling prey to this fit of the dismals, and at last, climbing into bed, she muttered, “Oh, the devil take it all!” And after a moment, she added, “And Charles Carlyle, too!”

  She was attaching entirely too much importance to the man, she decided, and deliberately turned her thoughts to other matters until, at last, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Awakening the next morning with the sun shining in her window, and feeling marvelously refreshed and cheerful, Elizabeth did not question the cause of her good spirits but was merely thankful that her mood had lifted, and after a leisurely breakfast, she went to change into clothing more suitable for the
out-of-doors.

  She entered the morning room a short time later, pulling on her gloves. She was clad in a walking dress of light blue; a velvet pelisse of darker blue, trimmed in fur, covered it; and a matching velvet bonnet with ostrich-plume trim, its high poke lined with gathered silk, was tied under one ear. She looked entirely charming.

  As she stepped lightly across the room to her aunt, Emily looked up from her stitching in surprise, exclaiming, “But you cannot be going out! Have you forgot? Margaret is coming this morning.”

  Elizabeth leaned down to kiss her cheek. “No, dear, I have not forgot, and, indeed, I am going out,” she replied. “Lady Langley will be here all winter, and I will have any number of opportunities to visit with her, but I am persuaded that after six years the two of you will have all manner of things to talk over. You will enjoy a comfortable coze without me here to interfere.”

  “Oh, no! How can you think you would be interfering?” Emily protested.

  Smiling and shaking her head, Elizabeth raised her hand to stop the other’s objections. “No, don’t try to change my mind. It’s quite made up. I am going to do some shopping and then look in at the Pump Room. Have you any errands for me while I am out?”

  Emily capitulated. “No, dear, but you are not going alone, are you?”

  Throwing both hands up in mock horror, Elizabeth cried, “Good heavens! I wouldn’t dream of it! I shall take Jennings with me.”

  With a small sniff, her aunt complained, “It’s all very well for you to laugh, but you know that you have not enough respect for the proprieties!”

  “Yes, I know, best of aunts; I am a sad trial to you, am I not?” And with that, Elizabeth made her exit, and was soon leaving the house, properly accompanied by her maid.

  She set a brisk pace until they reached Milsom Street, where she visited several shops, purchasing new gloves, stockings, some ribbon and a delectable bonnet which she had no need of, but which she could not resist. After leaving the last shop, she informed Jennings pleasantly but firmly that she would no longer need her, and instructed her to carry the packages home. Jennings, who had been with her mistress since her emergence from the schoolroom, was reluctant to leave her unattended but knew better than to waste breath in argument. So with a loud sniff of disapproval, and saying only, “Yes, Miss Elizabeth,” she turned, and made her way back to Upper Camden Place alone, while Elizabeth proceeded to Stall Street and the Pump Room.

 

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