She examined another of the pink roses, searching for any blemish. There was none. If James failed her, this is what her life would remain, she decided. Not for her a home and family of her own. She loved him and always would. She could not settle for anyone else. Even as she thought it, she felt that it was right. Leaving the bush of pink roses, she turned to another of red.
The deep, velvety red glowed in the sunlight and the scent was heady in the heat. Elizabeth drew in a deep breath and gently touched one of the roses with her fingertip. The petals were soft, warm from the sun. She dropped her hand. The flowers were too beautiful to take, she decided and moved on.
Rounding a corner, she heard voices approaching. Lady Delphine’s voice was strident on the still air.
“I do not understand you, Aurelia,” she said.
Miss Lacey’s answer, if there was one, was too soft for Elizabeth to hear.
Elizabeth turned quickly, not wishing to witness the argument. As she turned, her skirt flared out and brushed against one of the rose bushes and caught. Placing her basket on the path, Elizabeth bent, becoming hidden by the rosebush, and tried to untangle her skirt without tearing it.
“All you need is a little determination. I cannot believe you have given up so easily,” Lady Delphine continued, oblivious to Elizabeth’s embarrassed presence.
“Lord Runthorne does not love me, Mother,” Miss Lacey said, her voice clearer now that they were in earshot. The crunch of their footsteps on the gravel path stopped. Elizabeth barely breathed. Only the rosebush separated them from her.
“What does that matter? Really Aurelia I thought that you had more sense. He has a title. What has possessed you to throw that away?”
Elizabeth’s skirt was still tangled, but she stopped trying to pull it free, interested despite herself, in Miss Lacey’s answer.
Her sigh spoke volumes. “Mother, I know he has a title,” she said, “but if I do not love him and he does not love me, what good would that do me?”
From Lady Delphine’s gasp, Miss Lacey might have blasphemed. “It is status, Aurelia. Everything I have worked for and you want to throw it away for some addle-brained notions about love.” There was a sob in her voice.
“Listen to me, my darling,” she said, after a moment’s silence, “love is a frame of mind, an aberration if you will. With a little fortitude you will fall in love with Runthorne, if that is so important to you. As for him, how could he fail to be fond of you? You are a beautiful girl, Aurelia, any man would be proud to have you as his wife. You would learn how to manage him.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the thought of anyone being able to manage James.
“If having a daughter married to a marquess is so important to you, why did you not throw Amanda at his head? You only got a viscount for her.”
“Please try not to be so foolish, Aurelia. Runthorne was not a marquess then.” Lady Delphine sounded exasperated. “I would hardly waste your sister on someone who might not succeed to the title. A pretty fool I would be with a plain ‘Sir James’ as a son-in-law.”
“Then I do not understand. Why did you interfere in his betrothal to Miss Hampton?”
Elizabeth held her breath, listening.
“You silly girl. You were in the schoolroom then, but I could see you were going to be a diamond. I wanted him to be free for you. But only if he succeeded to the title, of course.”
There was a small pause. “Mother, forgive me if I misunderstand you. Are you actually saying that you interfered between Lord Runthorne and Miss Hampton on the mere possibility of him becoming a marquess?”
“Do not sound so disapproving, Aurelia. I am your mother and deserving of your respect.”
Elizabeth heard Lady Delphine sigh.
“My dearest child,” Lady Delphine continued after a moment, “I know what I am talking about. I might have married anyone, I had a duke courting me, but I had to throw that away to marry your father. He may not have had a title, but he had the wealth my family needed.”
“Did you love him? Even a little?” Miss Lacey sounded sad, Elizabeth thought.
“Not as you mean it, Aurelia, but I have come to care for him. Do not look at me like that. It does not matter what I share with your father, just understand that I want you to have the title I sacrificed.”
“Do you regret that?”
“No, Aurelia,” Lady Delphine said, sounding a little surprised at her own words. “It was for my family and your father is a good man. I truly have grown fond of him. But that is beside the point. There is no reason for you to be sacrificed. You can have comfort and a title.”
The footsteps started again and Elizabeth pulled frantically at her skirt.
“It is that Mr Compton,” Lady Delphine continued. “His attentions have turned your head. You just put him out of your mind.”
With an ugly rending sound, Elizabeth’s skirt finally came free, but it was too late. Lady Delphine and Miss Lacey turned the corner and saw her, half sprawled on the ground.
“You.” Lady Delphine’s voice chilled Elizabeth to the core. “This is your fault, you shameless hussy. What do you think you are doing, eavesdropping on a private conversation?”
“I was not,” Elizabeth said.
Lady Delphine’s eyes glittered. “A liar too,” she said. “If it were not for you Runthorne would be happy with Aurelia.”
“Mother, you cannot blame Miss Hampton.”
“Be quiet, Aurelia.”
“No, Mother. Listen to me. I do not want to marry Lord Runthorne and he does not want to marry me. Do you understand?”
“You will do as I say.”
“I however will not.”
Elizabeth started and turned. Lady Delphine’s raised voice had masked James’ approach. Hovering behind him was Mr Lacey.
“Runthorne,” Lady Delphine’s laugh was shrill. “How you startled me. Now do not, please take what I said amiss. I know Aurelia can be a little wilful, but she truly cares for you. Only her pride made her speak in such an unbecoming manner.”
James raised his hand. “Please stop,” he said. He smiled at Elizabeth and she felt warmed, as though the sun had come out from behind a cloud. He helped her to her feet, but did not release her hand.
“Miss Lacey,” he continued, “thank you for releasing me from our betrothal. I have no doubt you are right, we would not suit.”
“Now see what you have done, you idiot child,” Lady Delphine said.
“Delphine, that is enough.” Everyone turned and looked at Mr Lacey. He seemed as startled as they were by his interruption. “Yes,” he continued, straightening his shoulders. “Delphine, that is quite enough, I have indulged you and your whims but no more. You may have had the raising of our daughters, but I will not allow you to ruin their happiness. If Aurelia truly does not wish to marry Lord Runthorne, then she shall not. I for one am fully appreciative of his lordship’s forbearance in this matter.”
He raised his hand as Lady Delphine opened her mouth. “Furthermore, my dear, should Mr Compton decide to approach me, I will look favourably on his suit. If that is what Aurelia wishes.”
He coughed. “Now come along, my dear, it is time we left the young people to a little privacy.”
To Elizabeth’s amazement, Lady Delphine did not protest this form of address. Instead her face seemed to crumple and, for one moment, Elizabeth felt a stir of sympathy for the older woman.
“Come, my love,” Mr Lacey said, again. He held his hand out to his wife. Now he spoke low and intimately. “Leave it be, Delphine.”
“Oh, Henry,” Lady Delphine’s voice trembled, but she moved to his side and he led her away.
“Goodness,” Miss Lacey said into the silence. “I have never seen Mother so…” She waved her hand as though she could not find a word strong enough to encompass what they had seen. Elizabeth did not blame her. She, too, was amazed at Lady Delphine’s capitulation.
“Miss Lacey,” James said, formal now. “I wonder if you would be
so good as to grant me and Miss Hampton a little privacy.”
For a moment Elizabeth thought Miss Lacey would turn mulish at being dismissed. Her lower lip protruded for a moment, but then she smiled and curtseyed. “But of course, my lord.”
It all seemed very odd to Elizabeth, as though some game was being played out.
“I believe,” James said to Miss Lacey’s back, “that I saw Mr Compton by the folly. He seemed a little in need of company.”
The smile Miss Lacey sent back made Elizabeth blink. “Why thank you, my lord, I shall remember that,” she said and departed, speeding her steps.
Elizabeth turned. James was gazing at her intently, his eyes dark with some unvoiced emotion that spoke directly to her. His look was as tangible as a caress and she felt a shiver of anticipation. For the first time she was nervous being alone with him. It was as though there were no barriers between them now. For all that there were inches between them she could feel his heat as though his body was pressed close against hers.
She took a step back and licked her lips. “Perhaps I should go, too,” she said, her voice husky.
James reached out and touched her cheek lightly with his fingertips. “You and I have unfinished business, Elizabeth,” he said. His voice sounded as rough as hers.
Elizabeth lifted her chin. She would not give in to the urge to step towards him. She had her pride. “You are demanding, my lord,” she said, in a vain attempt to appear disinterested. She cleared her throat and saw James smile, a slow smile that made her feel weak.
“If you think you can browbeat me like Mr Lacey did Lady Delphine then you are sorely mistaken.”
“I would not dream of browbeating you,” James said, his fingers cupping her cheek now. His voice was as intimate as an embrace.
Elizabeth forced herself to step back. James kept pace with her. “I have not forgiven you,” she said.
“I abjectly beg your pardon,” James murmured, never taking his eyes from hers.
Elizabeth felt as though she was drowning. “You do not know what you are begging pardon for,” she whispered.
“I have no doubt you will tell me,” James said. He was close now, his eyes filling her vision, his lips close to hers.
“I hate you for thinking I was Alice’s mother.”
“I know,” he said. His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “I am a fool. How can I ever make it up to you?”
The urge to twine her fingers in his hair and pull his lips down to hers was overwhelming. Summoning the last of her self-control, Elizabeth stepped back, again. Still James kept pace.
“Marry me, Elizabeth,” he said.
Elizabeth shivered. James’ hand slipped from her cheek to her shoulder and down her back to her waist in a slow, sensual stroke. Elizabeth gasped.
“Marry this fool who loves you,” he whispered.
“I will not be immured away in the country,” she said against his lips.
“You shall live in Town all year if you wish,” he murmured.
“I want you to shower me with jewels.”
“I shall clothe you in nothing but diamonds.”
Elizabeth trembled at the image that conjured. “I prefer emeralds,” she said, just to be perverse.
“I will lay a pirate’s treasure at your feet.”
“Hmm,” Elizabeth said as James’ arms pulled her close. Now there was no space between them and she felt his sigh as surely as he did hers.
“We shall have beautiful daughters,” James said.
Elizabeth smiled. “I have decided we shall only have sons,” she said.
“A handful of each,” he said, his voice a low, sensual promise.
Elizabeth had the oddest sensation that her bones were melting. “You are browbeating me,” she whispered.
James smiled. He drew on the ribbons of her hat and tossed it to one side. Then he tilted his head a fraction and, at last his lips caressed hers.
It was fortunate, Elizabeth decided with the small part of her mind available to her, that his arms were so strong. If he was not holding her so close, she would have sunk to the ground because her knees seemed suddenly too weak to support her. She slid her hands up his arms to his broad shoulders and felt him groan.
James broke the kiss suddenly. “We can get a special licence,” he said. He sounded breathless. “We can have a summer wedding.”
Elizabeth felt the overwhelming urge to giggle. She controlled it with difficulty. “I do not think so, my lord,” she teased. “I have my heart set on a winter wedding.”
James’ eyes glinted, dangerously. His kiss, however, was as soft as the first blossom of spring. Elizabeth gasped at the heartrending gentleness of it.
“Oh, James,” she said. “Very well. A summer wedding it is.”
His lips smiled against hers, but she did not care.
If Love can sigh
For one alone,
Well pleased am I
To be that one.
Thomas Moor 1780-1852
Amongst other things, Thomas Moor was a prolific poet and song-smith. Many of his poems were set to Irish airs and were very popular with all strata of society. ‘When Love is Kind’ is one of my favourites and seems to work equally well sung as a melancholic ballad or saucy song. It is reproduced here.
When Love is kind,
Cheerful and free,
Love's sure to find
Welcome from me.
But when Love brings
Heartache or pang,
Tears and such things --
Love may go hang!
If Love can sigh
For one alone,
Well pleased am I
To be that one.
But should I see
Love giv'n to rove
To two or three,
Then -- good-bye, Love!
Love must, in short,
Keep fond and true,
Through good report,
And evil too.
Else, here I swear,
Young Love may go,
For aught I care --
To Jericho.
Also by Sarah-Jane Steele
The Earl and the Traitor’s Daughter
Lord Runthorne's Dilemma: A Regency Romance Page 20
