by Joyce Alec
“Ah…em….me? Oh, yes, me….uh, I am...I am Lord Green," he stuttered, reaching out his hand so she might place hers in his own. After a moment, she did so, watching as he bent over it, swaying a little as he bowed too deeply, but managing to right himself before he toppled over completely.
“And you are…?”
“I am Lord Hoskins, at your service, my lady,” the dark-haired gentleman replied, not bothering to get to his feet. “Forgive my lack of manners, but I am a little under the weather after last night’s frivolities.”
A knock at the door sounded the entrance of the tea tray, and Martha got up to pour.
“Excuse me,” Lord Hoskins said abruptly. “I shall be back in a moment.”
Astonished, Martha watched him go, turning questioning eyes onto Lord Green.
“I hope that you are not here to once again make mention of any rumors you have heard about me,” she said, flushing once more.
“No, no, no, not at all!” Lord Green replied, his face also going a deep red. “I can assure you, that is not the case at all.”
“Very well,” Martha replied, as she finished pouring the tea and adding one sugar, as directed by Lord Green.
It seemed that he was able to speak perfectly well when her back was toward him, but should she face him or look him in the eye, he turned into a blubbering wreck. What was wrong with the man?
“Here,” she said, handing him the cup and saucer.
“I thank you,” Charles replied, reaching for it carefully. Despite his best efforts, his shaking hands refused to hold the cup still, spilling tea all over the pristine carpet.
“Oh no!” Charles cried, just as Martha cried out the same, both dropping to their knees at precisely the same time.
It was most unfortunate that Charles then managed to knock his forehead against Martha’s, stunning her with a sudden blow. Even worse, as he got to his feet to help her up, he stood on her fingers, making her cry out.
"My lady, I cannot apologize enough," he cried, reaching for her hand.
Martha, dazed and in a fair amount of pain, gingerly reached for his hand, allowing him to pull her up. Charles tugged her far too hard and far too fast, slamming her against his body as they stumbled back, right into the table which held the tea tray. Managing to regain his balance, he held her tight against him for a moment as they both tried to regain their composure.
Charles was filled with shame and embarrassment, looking at the destruction around him. The table holding the tea tray wobbled a little more before settling, the china clinking in protest. He had no idea what to do in this situation, realizing how improper it was for him to be holding Lady Martha in such an intimate embrace. Yet, something within him refused to let her go, her presence soothing and comforting him.
Martha blinked hard, trying to work out what exactly had just happened. Her head ached, and her fingers were sore, but that all seemed to fade away as she was simply held by the gentleman who had caused her pain in the first place. He was tall, but not too tall, his arms wrapping around her securely, his chin gently touching the top of her head.
“Are you all right?” Charles asked, a little gruffly, surprised that he managed to get the words out so clearly.
Martha nodded, her face turning into his neck as she leaned her head on his shoulder. She didn’t know what she was doing, encouraging him to remain like this knowing that her stepbrother, or Lord Hoskins, could return at any time.
The man is a buffoon, she thought, a clumsy oaf who has just spilled tea everywhere, almost knocked you out, and then trod on your fingers. Why, then, are you enjoying his embrace?
Regaining her sense of decorum, she reluctantly took a step back, out of his embrace.
“Oh.”
Martha saw Lord Green wince as he looked at her. Whatever was the matter? She touched her forehead gingerly, realizing how badly it hurt.
"I believe you are going to have quite a nasty bruise, my lady," Charles said, guilt-ridden. "I cannot apologize enough."
Martha closed her eyes. A bruise to her head would just be another way for her brother to tell more lies about her; she was sure of it. On top of that, her head began to throb, and she moved to ring the bell for the maid, wincing with each step.
“Please, sit down Lord Green, before you do any more damage.”
Charles sat silently, feeling useless. The maid entered and, with a word from Martha, tidied up the mess Charles had made, before bringing Martha a soft, cool compress for her tender head.
"I believe I may have hurt your neck also," Charles said quietly, seeing a couple of red marks on the back of her neck. "I am such a clumsy fool. I am dreadfully sorry to have hurt you so."
Martha blushed, unconsciously reaching to touch the marks that Gerald had left.
"Do not trouble yourself," she responded. "I do not believe those are of your doing."
“No?” Charles said, sitting up a little straighter. “Then whose?”
Frustrated with herself for saying such a thing to a perfect stranger, Martha waved the question away.
“Well, Lord Green, I can safely say you have made an impression on me.”
She held out her red fingers for him to see.
Charles rose, holding her fingers to inspect the damage, surprised at the spark that shot up his arm as he touched her.
Looking her full in the face, Charles found himself able to speak clearly, and without hesitation, "I must apologize once more, Lady Martha. I can be such a ham-fisted fool, especially around beautiful women."
Trying not to be affected by his words, Martha let herself smile a little.
“You are certainly a little ungainly, Lord Green,” she admitted, seeing him flush a little. “Are you always so clumsy?”
He nodded, walking back to his chair and slumping in it.
“Matthew, I mean Lord Hoskins, said that all I need is practice, and I shall soon be much better.” He spread his hands, “As you can tell, it is not working out so well at the moment.”
Martha stopped herself from responding, studying the gentleman sitting in her chair. His face held an ashamed expression, with his whole manner telling her the depths of his despair. Despite her current situation, Martha felt a rush of sympathy. Musing for a moment, she wondered if Lord Green could potentially be her savior. He was clumsy, yes, and she would have to be careful that she didn't end up with bruises everywhere, but he would do. It wasn’t as if she had any other eligible gentleman knocking at her door.
"Do you have an estate of your own, Lord Green?" she asked, wondering if he would fulfill Gerald's requirements of a good match.
Surprised at the sudden change of subject, Charles sat up a little straighter.
“I do, my lady,” he replied. “I have an estate in Suffolk, although I am spending the season in London.”
“How lovely,” Martha said, her hopes rising. “Is your estate profitable?”
“Very,” Charles replied, perplexed by why she was asking such questions, but astonished at how easily he managed to answer her. “My tenants are hard workers, and my steward is extremely adept at handling all estate matters when I am away. However, I do enjoy getting my hands dirty when I am not in London.”
“Indeed,” Martha said, finding it hard to imagine him working the fields with the local men.
Charles smiled at her, amazed at how relaxed he was in her presence. Matthew had described the woman as ‘pretty but not beautiful,’ but in this moment, he had to disagree. Her green eyes and dark hair were a stunning combination, her smile warming him to the very core. But no, he had to remember that this was simply a chance for him to practice his skills of conversing, walking, and dancing with eligible ladies. Whilst Lady Martha was a beautiful woman, he had to remember that she was completely ineligible. She had no dowry and, whilst she had defended herself against the rumors he had heard, he could not discount them all entirely.
“Lady Martha," he began, taking a breath. “I was wondering if I could call on you tomorrow aft
ernoon. Perhaps a stroll around Hyde Park?”
Martha smiled, feeling a spreading warmth flow right to the tips of her fingers. Perhaps Gerald would be proven wrong after all.
“Thank you, Lord Green. I would be delighted.”
***
“I’m telling you, Matthew, there’s something about that woman.”
Matthew chuckled, his eyes firmly closed as he slouched in a comfortable chair beside the fire. He had returned to find Lady Martha and Lord Green chatting like old friends, despite the stained carpet and the large bruise on Lady Martha's head, and had been too shocked to say more than a simple ‘goodbye’ to Lady Martha. He had been astonished to see Charles kiss the lady's hand as he bid her farewell, even more surprised to find that she had agreed to walk with him the following afternoon. Whatever had come over Charles?
“Perhaps it’s not to do with her, but to do with you,” Matthew suggested lazily, crossing his ankles as he stretched his long legs out.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me that you held her for a moment, and that’s bound to do things to a man.”
“Come now,” Charles scoffed. “I felt nothing for her. I was too mortified to feel anything but disgrace.”
Matthew said nothing, cracking open one eye to look at his friend. Charles was nursing a glass of port and gazing into the flames, obviously thinking about the lady in question.
Charles lied to Matthew saying he felt nothing for her, recalling the way she had laid her head on his shoulder and the feel of her soft brown hair. No, it was more than that. She was the first lady that he could speak to freely, not stumbling over his words like he normally did. Shrugging, Charles sipped his port, reminding himself not to get overly intimate with the lady. Changing the subject, he began to talk to Matthew his own love interest, even though his mind remained firmly fixed on Lady Martha.
“Have you learned that woman’s name yet?”
“What woman?” Matthew replied lazily, not even opening his eyes.
Charles smirked. “Don’t pretend with me, old boy. I know you’re desperate to find out her name.”
“Ah, my woman of mystery,” Matthew replied, grinning. “Whose red curls haunt my every waking moment.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Charles said. “Have you discovered her name yet?”
Matthew sighed, “No.”
Charles grinned at his response. He had not thought Matthew would ever look at a woman twice, but here he was, desperate to know her name. She had obviously made an impact.
Chapter 5
“Lady Martha, may I say, you look perfectly charming.”
“Thank you, Lord Green,” Martha replied, briefly adjusting her bonnet.
“You’re very welcome,” he replied, taking her proffered hand. “Shall we go?”
Unfortunately, her touch unsettled Charles a little, making him stumble down the stone steps, pulling Martha with him—although, thankfully, neither of them managed to fall.
“I can only…”
"Apologize, yes, I know," Martha replied, hiding a smile. "Lord Green, I am well used to your clumsy ways after our encounter yesterday, so you must simply find a better way of apologizing. Those words are becoming far too familiar.”
Martha’s lilting laughter lightened the mood completely. Charles let out a sigh of relief, tucking her hand under his arm once more and as they began to walk down the street towards Hyde Park. Clearly, he was not as relaxed as he had thought.
“Tell me, Lord Green,” Martha began, as they made their way into the park. “What has been the most embarrassing thing you have done?”
“Oh,” Charles replied, letting out a long breath. “I’m not sure I can tell you, Lady Martha. In truth, there are so many that I’m not sure I can choose the worst.”
Martha chuckled. “Come now, Lord Green, I simply must know. If you cannot choose one, then why not tell me a few?”
Charles thought for a moment, enjoying the stroll through the park as well as the company of Lady Martha.
“Well, I suppose one of the worst ones I can remember, is when I pulled Lady Ellen into the fishpond.”
“Never!” Martha exclaimed, barely able to believe it. “What happened?”
“I was walking beside her, and we stopped to observe the fish swimming in the pond. She took my arm, pointing to one particular fish. Of course, when I leaned over to see what she was pointing at, I lost my balance and we both ended up in the water.”
Martha tried to stop her laughter, but it bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t help but let it escape. “Oh dear, that is truly awful.”
“Indeed,” Charles replied, a wry look on his face. “Of course, there was another time when I was challenged to pistols at dawn.”
“Oh, my!” Martha exclaimed, all traces of laughter gone. “That sounds a little more serious.”
Charles shrugged. “It was all a misunderstanding. I was at a house party, hosted by Mr. Fulton, and I got utterly lost. I mistook Miss Fulton's room for my own and managed to walk in when she was in a state of undress. In my haste to shield my eyes, I then proceeded to walk straight into the door and knocked myself out."
“My goodness,” Martha replied, feeling the laughter begin to rise in her again. “I assume her father thought you had ill intentions for his daughter?”
"Her screams were heard throughout the house, so I am told," he said, a trace of humor in his voice. "I am quite sure you have heard enough now, Lady Martha. I beg you to spare me from any further humiliation."
“Very well,” Martha replied, attempting to keep her merriment under control.
Hyde Park was fairly quiet, as it was not quite time for the fashionable hour, but Martha was enjoying the peace.
“May I enquire how your head is today?”
“Oh,” Martha said, removing her hand from his arm and turning to face him. “It is not too bad, I assure you.”
She looked into his eyes, seeing the concern that rested there and immediately felt her breath catch. Lord Green was certainly an attractive man and, despite herself, Martha felt something within her respond to him.
“My maid adjusted my hair quite nicely, so I believe it is completely hidden.”
“It is,” Lord Green replied, his eyes roving across her forehead. “May I?”
He lifted two large curls from the side of her head, wincing as he saw the purple bruising.
“Oh my,” he breathed, touching it gently. “I must have a weighty head.”
Martha smiled gently, enjoying the feel of his hand on her skin.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked, with true concern.
“A little,” Martha replied, her voice soft.
“Lady Martha,” Charles began, allowing the curls to drop as they began to walk once more. “I must confess something to you. My friend, Lord Hoskins, encouraged me to develop my acquaintance with you because he thought it might help me in all my interactions with eligible young ladies.”
Martha's heart dropped as she heard Lord Green speak. She had hoped that he could be her potential savior, but from the sounds of things, she was merely a tool in his hands, to be used only as a way for him to improve his skills with the opposite sex.
Charles, seeing the frown on her face, cursed himself for not being able to explain the details with greater clarity.
“What I mean to say is, given my clumsiness, and the fact that most ladies of the ton have grown to dislike me intensely; you seemed to be the only one who would accept my attentions.”
Slightly mollified, Martha’s face cleared, her frown disappearing. She could understand what he meant, given that she too was looked down upon by practically everyone in society.
“Lord Green, I understand what you are saying, for I too am a social pariah in the eyes of the ton—though it’s no fault of my own, as I have told you before. My stepbrother has cruel ways,” she said the last few words quietly, almost to herself.
Charles’s brows rose at Martha’s words. He had not
met the current Viscount but had no reason to think he was a callous man. By all accounts, his business was doing well, and he was an excellent overseer of his tenants and estate.
"I apologize," Martha said, her face heating as she realized her slip. “I should not have said such a thing.”
“Think no more of it,” Charles replied. “For once it is you, and not I, that cannot get their words in order.”
A smile spread slowly across Martha’s face as she looked up at him, feeling that tingling warmth that she had begun to associate with Lord Green.
“Lady Martha,” Charles began again, patting her hand as they walked. “What I am trying to say, in the most roundabout way possible, is that I do not wish to treat you as some kind of experiment.” He felt her grip tighten a fraction around his arm before he continued, “I am able to converse with you as I do with Matthew, which is some sort of miracle, I assure you. I greatly enjoy spending time with you, and I could not help but look forward to our walk together.” He stopped for a moment, turning to face her. “Most of all, Lady Martha, I feel like I can be myself when I am with you. You do not mock my ungainly ways, which is something I have not yet found with any other woman of my acquaintance.”
Martha smiled a little sadly, unable to tell whether he was offering more than friendship.
“I thank you for your kind words, Lord Green.”
She did not know what else to say.
Charles patted her hand again, once more beginning to walk around the park. His heart felt light, amazed at how, for the first time, a walk in the park with a lady could be so enjoyable. He did not feel anxious or worried, but perfectly at ease.
“No, Lady Martha,” he said, quietly. “It is I that should be thanking you.”
“Lord Green, is that you?” Closing his eyes briefly in frustration, Charles turned to see Matthew stride toward them, a grin on his face. He was evidently fully aware that he had interrupted their reverie but did not care in the slightest.
“Why, Lord Hoskins, how nice to see you again,” Martha said, curtsying to him.
“And you, Lady Martha,” Matthew replied, giving her a jaunty bow.
