Dance With Me At Midnight (Regency Fairy Twists Book 3)

by Samantha Holt

  “No, you are humiliating me,” Miss Blythe would hiss back.

  And so it would go on until Miss Blythe was practically on top of his Hessians and flushing so hard that she nearly matched the red curtains of the drawing room. She had little to say to him and clearly did not want to be pushed into this anymore than he did.

  He smiled gently at her. Since he had turned six and ten, women had been pushed in his direction—no matter how suitable or unsuitable they were. He had known early on that this was his main goal in life—that and waiting for his father to die it seemed. Inherit the title then marry. It was all quite grim if one thought about it too hard.

  “Miss Blythe, is it?”

  Her smile was one of relief. Perhaps she expected him to ignore or snub her. “Yes, my lord.”

  With glossy dark hair, a curving figure and wide eyes, she was not unattractive. Though he had always preferred fair-haired women. At that thought, his gaze searched out Miss Eloise Cinclair. She had not ceased moving since the guests arrived. She seemed to skip from group to group, ensuring conversation continued and that everyone had enough food and drink. At present, she was instructing a footman on something, though goodness knows what as all was going swimmingly as far as Charles could tell.

  Of course, even with it going swimmingly he would still have preferred to be elsewhere. At home in the library perhaps with a good book. Or taking a brisk ride in the biting winter air. Anywhere other than in amongst people he did not consider his friends and surrounded by eager gazes as they all ran over the same question in their minds. Who would Charles Edwards, the Earl of Marlton marry?

  It would not be Miss Blythe, though he did not think she would be aggrieved to hear that. She had few connections and no experience in running a household to his knowledge. The task of being a countess was quite the enormous one. Not just any woman could take it up, as his mother reminded him before he left for the party.

  He swung his attention back to Miss Blythe who had uttered something about the weather.

  “Mmm,” he murmured.

  “Of course, I cannot stand to be outside in this weather. I would far rather be inside, by the fire.”

  “Not even to ride?” he asked.

  “Oh goodness no. I prefer to be in a carriage at all times.”

  If he had at all considered her as a potential bride, that would have killed that idea instantly. Charles loved to ride. There was nothing better than the wind biting at one’s face while a great beast took off at a gallop. The power and the speed never failed to improve his mood. Whoever his potential bride was going to be, she had to love horses.

  Charles’ gaze lit upon Eloise once more. She liked birds. But that was hardly the same as liking horses. Truth be told, he knew nothing more about her than he had before, except she was not nearly as graceful and quiet as her father had suggested. He’d wager no woman could be graceful with a wretched bird on their shoulder and she had seemed determined not to charm him one bit. Heck, she had hardly cared that the creature had soiled Charles’ shoulder. She’d been more interested in being pleasant to his valet than himself. Hardly marchioness material.

  “Will you, um, be staying long at Hanbury, my lord?”

  He forced his attention back to Miss Blythe and tried to ignore the overly-excited expression of her mother.

  Before he could respond and continue the unexciting conversation there was a clatter. All heads spun in the direction of the commotion and Charles peered over the top of Miss Blythe’s head.

  There, standing amongst a pile of cake, sandwiches, and plates, was Miss Eloise Cinclair. Smeared down her dress were streaks of cream and jam. The tablecloth on which the food had once sat now curled around her ankles. It looked to Charles that she had somehow become caught in it and pulled the whole thing with her. She gave an embarrassed smile and tried to disentangle it from herself.

  Charles winced as she placed her foot into a large Victoria sponge.

  “Oh dear,” Miss Blythe’s mother muttered, non-too quietly. “What a clumsy young lady.”

  Charles swung his gaze to Eloise’s twin brothers who were trying their best not to laugh. As clumsy as Miss Eloise might be, he could not fathom not coming to one’s sister’s rescue. Not that he had any but should he, he would not let them face such humiliation alone.

  Sucking in a breath, Charles strode forward and offered a hand to Miss Eloise. She met his gaze and surprise flickered there.

  Aware of everyone in the room watching them, he remained expressionless. This was not an act of favoritism and he would not let anyone think that it was but he was a gentleman, damn it. Unlike those awful brothers who could not seem to cease sniggering.

  “Allow me to help you.”

  With a weak smile, she took his hand. She shook free the Victoria sponge from her foot and gingerly stepped over the mess. He could not fathom how it had happened but the tablecloth was tucked into the ribbon of her gown. He put a foot on the offending fabric which allowed Miss Eloise to step forward and come free of it.

  She removed her hand from his once she was free of the mess. Charles could not help notice an odd warm sensation that had been left behind from her touch.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said softly. “I think I can manage from here.”

  Limping slightly due to the vast amount of cream under one shoe, she made her way out of the drawing room, leaving a trail of white footprints and crumbs.

  “Please continue as you were,” she implored the guests before she left. “We have plenty more cake, do not fear!”

  The footmen and a maid scurried forward to clean up and after an awkward moment, everyone returned to their conversation. Charles watched Eloise as she left and saw the second that her faux smile dropped. So much of him wished to hurry after her and reassure her that the spilled cake did not matter. Nor did the embarrassment. He did not know why he wanted to, though. Nothing had changed. In fact, if anything, this had only confirmed his first thoughts. Eloise Cinclair would make a terrible wife.

  Chapter Five

  “Oh, do not laugh.” Eloise tapped Bennett’s arm.

  The stablehand tried and failed to smother another laugh. “Forgive me, miss, but you cannot blame me. I bet you were a sight.”

  She sighed and giggled. “I was I am afraid. There’s still a cream stain on the carpet too. One to match the jam stain from Adam and David’s antics.”

  She knelt to pick up one of the tabby kittens that she had rescued not long ago. They were already growing big and thankfully did not need weaning any longer. The kitten gnawed on the end of her finger and wriggled away so she placed him down to play with his brothers and sisters. Her hope was they might turn into good mousers and she would be able to find homes for them in the village, and maybe even in the house. If she convinced her stepfather they had a problem with mice, she could move two into the house, she was sure. It would not be hard to summon up a few nibbled grain bags and biscuits.

  Bennett turned his attention back to the saddle he was buffing while she moved on to check on the ancient sheep. Muriel gave her a friendly butt on the hand but Eloise knew if she let her out of the pen, she’d be trying to run them both down. The sheep was surpassingly strong and had knocked her and Bennett over on several occasions.

  “It was my stepbrothers’ doing,” Eloise declared.

  Bennett paused. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “They tucked the table cloth into my ribbon. They were as bold as to boast about it that evening.”

  “Those fools have little to boast about.”

  “Fool,” squawked Albert who had been watching them from his perch at the end of the barn.

  She shook her head at the parrot. “That is his favorite word at present, though it usually seems to be directed at the earl.”

  “The earl who you were supposed to impress?” Bennett asked.

  “Indeed.” She straightened and grabbed several handfuls of fresh hay for the goats. They ate what she gave them before she could
take a breath and she laughed as their mouths tickled her hands. “You two are awfully greedy. You’re lucky I do not mind spending my pin money on you because the viscount would never stand for me spending any of his money on you.”

  She wiped her hands on her dress and faced Bennett. “I shall have to return shortly. Will you make sure they are all fed and watered in the morning? The ball is taking up all of my time.”

  “Of course I will, miss. You can always rely on me.”

  “Thank you, Bennett. I do not know what I would do without you.”

  His eyes twinkled. Bennett had been a stablehand at the house for nigh on ten years now. He was a few years her senior and had been kind to her when she was a girl, encouraging her love of animals. With sandy, golden hair, a lean figure and kind eyes, she had to admit she had taken a little fancy to him in her earlier years but Bennett had always adored Nell from the Bluebell Inn and Eloise had swiftly realized she and Bennett would make much better friends than anything else.

  “You probably would not have a menagerie of animals without me,” he pointed out, “and your life would be much easier.”

  She shook her head. “My life would be duller is what you mean.” She could not imagine a life without animals. Which is what she would have if she did not persuade the viscount to make her his wife.

  But if she did—not that she wanted to—what would happen to her animals then? There was no guarantee of safety for them either way.

  “What is it?”

  Eloise must have huffed aloud. She gave one of the goats a quick pet and tapped her shoulder. Albert flew over and perched himself carefully upon her.

  “If I do not charm this earl, the viscount has threatened to get rid of the animals.”

  Bennett grimaced. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

  “But it is a hopeless cause. I don’t even like the earl. And he certainly does not like me, especially after practically wearing a table full of cake.”

  “Then he is a fool.” Bennett put down the cloth and gave her a pat on her arm. “You are a resourceful young lady, miss. I know whatever happens you shall find a way to continue looking after the animals.”

  “I hope you are right.” She stepped out of the barn door and eyed the house in the distance. A great well of dread pooled in her stomach. After yesterday, she could hardly face all their guests and if it was up to her stepbrothers, they would likely ensure today was no better for her.

  “Good luck, Miss Eloise. That earl had better wake up and see what is in front of him. No finer lady than you, miss.”

  “Do not let Nell hear you say that.”

  He waved a hand. “Ah, she knows she has my heart, and she would agree with me.”

  Eloise shook her head at the compliments and ducked out of the stables. She froze at the sight of a familiar silhouette striding quickly across the park land in front of her stepfather’s home. She considered ducking into the barn but it was too late. Charles gave a half-hearted wave then swiftly dropped his hand.

  Drawing up her shoulders, she pasted on a smile and covered the distance to meet him halfway.

  “Good day, my lord. What are you doing out here alone?”

  “I, um, fancied a walk.” He rested his hands behind his back. “And you?”

  She did not much wish to tell him of her menagerie. It would be yet another black mark against her. She offered a vague smile. “Oh, yes just getting some fresh air.”

  “Excellent.” He rocked briefly onto his heels and glanced around. “May I… may I accompany you? You can show me around your father’s lands.”

  “Stepfather,” she corrected without thinking.

  “Ah yes, of course.”

  They fell into silence again, the crunch of leaves beneath their feet the only sound. Though spring was budding, many trees had not yet started to grow their leaves and had left the parklands looking barren. However, a few daffodils sprouted around the base of the trees and provided a bright splash of color against the dark trunks. The formal gardens would be in full bloom soon enough but Eloise disliked the sharp angles and uniformity of them. She could not wait until spring had fully arrived and brought with it lush grass and fully blossoming trees.

  The land around the hall was mostly wild with a small stream cutting through it. Eloise led them down toward the small bridge that crossed it then up toward a folly. The silence grew longer and sharper. She grimaced inwardly.

  Speak, she ordered herself. Say something. Anything!

  Goodness, the man was too stalwart. She had hardly seen him smile since his arrival and he never looked as though he was enjoying himself, even now. Although she could not claim to be either. But no wonder she could not summon any words. He was a terrible companion.

  A handsome one, however, as Milly would point out. She had to admit, since the maid had suggested as much, the idea had been playing on her mind. She’d begun to appreciate the dark curl of his hair and the way his breeches revealed strong, long legs. His hands had a capable look to them too, she noted. That appealed indeed. There was nothing worse than a man with soft, delicate hands—like her stepbrothers. It implied they did nothing but sit around and be waited upon. Which was true in her stepbrothers’ case.

  So if this earl used his hands, what on earth did he use them for? She could not picture him mucking out animals or doing chores and managing the household as she did. There had to be something they could talk of.

  As they made their way up the slope to the folly, Charles cleared his throat. Eloise drew in a breath and waited. She waited more. However, no conversation came as anticipated. Now she was beginning to wish the hill would split in two and simply swallow her whole. It would surely be less painful than this.

  The folly was a miniature mock castle with two turrets made of stone and a central platform. One could walk up the steps and stand upon the platform or the turrets and look out over the Hertfordshire countryside. As a child, she had been excited to see what she deemed as a wonderful toy to play on but her stepfather had said it was too dangerous for little girls and she had not been allowed to play on it.

  Naturally, her stepbrothers had done what they wanted. Now that she was older, she made a point of coming and standing upon the folly many times a week and pretending it was a grand castle of her own.

  “Shall we?”

  The words split through the air. Eloise almost forgot to respond, such was her surprise at hearing a sound other than their footsteps and the uncomfortable beat of her heart.

  Charles motioned up the steps.

  “Yes, yes, indeed. It is a fine view.”

  She took the steps up, aware of him close behind. The day proved clear and provided an excellent view across the farmlands and hills below the property. Farmer’s cottages were dotted across the green lands like little white sheep grazing on the grass. Other than that, there was little else to be seen from this side. The nearby village could only be seen from the east and just one road ran across the west side.

  “Very nice,” Charles murmured, his posture rigid and his hands clasped behind his back.

  “Very nice,” mimicked Albert.

  Charles peered at the bird, an eyebrow raised. “Do you take him everywhere?”

  His tone made her instantly defensive. She lifted her chin. “When I can. He does not like cages, and who can blame him?”

  “Hmm.”

  Hmm? What did he mean by that?

  “Do you not like animals, my lord?” she demanded.

  “I like animals. I am not sure about birds. Horses are more my thing.”

  She pursed her lips. “Ah yes, no doubt you have the best-bred horseflesh around.”

  “I do.”

  “You must take great pride in them.”

  “Absolutely. Do you have a problem with that, Miss Eloise?”

  “Me? No, not at all.” She smiled.

  He peered at her closer. “I think you are fibbing. What is it about owning well-bred horses that displeases you?”

  She
briefly debated saying nothing but it did not last long. “Breeding is so very important to men like yourself is it not?”

  “Of course.”

  “Would not want an old nag in your stables, no matter their temperament?”

  “Never.”

  She sighed and eyed his strong profile, so resolute and determined. Charles was no different to any other well-bred man. They wanted only the best, in animals and in people. But what they did not realize was breeding did not mean something was the best. She had met many a well-bred gentleman who was an utter scoundrel whereas all the servants at her stepfather’s house, even one or two who had been born out of wedlock, were wonderful people.

  “I have an old nag. She’s a dear thing. The best horse I have ever met.”

  He gave a thin smile. “And I imagine you do not much care for thoroughbreds.”

  “If they are good animals, of course I do. However, in my experience, the poor creatures have had any personality beaten out of them.”

  “I certainly do not beat my animals.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  He motioned back down the slope. “Shall we return to the house? No doubt your guests are missing you.”

  “I doubt that, but they will certainly be missing an earl in their midst. However, I have arrangements to see to. With the ball only two days away, there is much to be done.”

  Charles peered at her. His green eyes seemed to sink into the very depths and summon up some strange whirling sensation in her stomach.

  “Do you enjoy organizing balls?”

  “I like to be busy, yes.”

  “You appear to have a hand in most of the arrangements.”

  “With my mother gone, I had to take on most of the running of the household.”

  They began their descent back toward the house. Its red towers marked a stark contrast against the barren fields and leafless trees. Up here, Eloise often forgot about her home and the people within it, but as soon as she turned it was back upon her. She would have to return to a house which was not really a home. No one there loved her, no one even wanted her company, with the exception of the servants.