Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke)

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Regency Romance: The Earl’s Unforgettable Flame (CLEAN Historical Romance) (Fire and Smoke) Page 9

by Charlotte Stone


  “Do you love her?” Julia questioned seriously.

  “Julia.” His face looked pained. Though he did not answer aloud in the affirmative, his answer was plain.

  “Have you told her that?” she asked pointedly. “Either time that you asked for her hand in courtship, did you mention love?”

  “No,” he admitted. “I am not used to speaking of these things.”

  “That’s because you have never been in love,” she told him gently, because he seemed so torn up over the matter. “But, you do love her?”

  His silence was an answer in the affirmative.

  “You should try telling her that. Take it from someone who probably won’t marry for love.” She paused and briefly touched his cheek, her brown eyes sparkling with both happiness for him and sadness for herself. “Love changes everything.”

  * * *

  10

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  * * *

  “But there’s only one woman I want to dance with. The question is: will she dance with me?”

  * * *

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  CHAPTER TEN

  The Dance

  .

  Cat was shocked to receive the invitation to the ball at Pritchford Place. If this was a year ago, she would have thought it a cruel joke. But now she knew Benjamin’s true self and while good humored and charming, he had no wish to hurt her. No, it was quite the opposite. In fact, she felt as if she had hurt him. For that reason alone, she thought about not going, but Jane’s words came back to her.

  She also missed him, and what a strange feeling to miss someone she had only been in the presence of a few times. But each of those times were engraved in her memory, from the time she was eight until the last time she had seen him. Her mind drifted as Green worked on her hair for the ball this evening.

  Ben was the only man she’d ever kissed, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, because she had never planned on kissing anyone. She’d never thought anyone would be romantically interested in her. But in the days since they’d last parted, his last intense look etched in her mind, she had been unable to forget the feeling of his lips on hers, his arms around her waist, his hands on her cheeks. His waistcoat had been soft beneath her own palms as she had clung to him.

  It seemed as if God had not answered her prayer to think of him as only as friend. But maybe, in light of Jane’s entreaties on that last night she had seen Benjamin, her feelings for Benjamin were not supposed to be repressed. Perhaps opening herself up to the idea of love was God’s plan all along.

  What if I had scars? Jane had asked. The truth was that if it was Jane with the old wounds, Cat would still want the world for her and would do everything in her power to make sure that Jane got it. She would still think her sister deserved every happiness and every chance at goodness in her life. Like Jane did for her, she would make sure the world knew of her goodness.

  And so, for all those reasons and Jane’s urging, she decided to attend the ball.

  She knew her dress wouldn’t be as glamorous or expensive as the other ladies’ would, but it was a beautiful shade of blue that matched her eyes. Most ladies would be wearing light colors, but hers was a deep blue sapphire. Though it was more fashionable to wear white to a ball, this had been her mother’s best gown and fit her figure beautifully. Perhaps she didn’t have jewelry to add to her coiffure, but Jane picked a white rose, which their lady’s maid artfully placed in her hair. Before Cat and her father departed, Jane hugged her sister.

  “Have a good time,” Jane begged. “And do let yourself dream. I do not think you will be disappointed.”

  Cat promised her sister she would, but she could not prepare herself for her reaction upon entering Pritchford Place.

  As she walked up the marble staircase to the opened door, her arm in her father’s, her blue satin slippers peeking out beneath the hem of her gown, she nearly gasped. It seemed as if thousands of candles were alit as couples danced in the ballroom. To think this was where Ben lived and grew up! She could not imagine what it had been like. She found she wanted to ask him though, to know more about his childhood. She could not deny that talking to him was one of her greatest joys and learning about his life was something she longed to do. Was this how it felt to love someone?

  She felt like a heroine out of her much beloved Austen novels, awash in the romance of it all. To compare the experience to those books was one of the greatest compliments Cat could give, since they had been so expensive and usually only available to the aristocracy and not the masses. But her father, who adored her and did all he could for her, had made sure she got them.

  She spotted the Earl of Wembley, looking a tad pale but dressed handsomely. Beside him, his wife, the Countess of Wembley, looked beautiful. It was from her that Benjamin received his dark eyes and hair, and she seemed much younger than Cat knew her to be. Just then, she noticed a lady in a resplendent white gown approach the earl and kiss his cheek. Cat realized this must be Benjamin’s sister, Lady Julia. She was truly the most beautiful woman Cat had ever seen in person. A part of Cat wanted to turn away, to hide herself from these seemingly perfect individuals. But she forced her eyes to scan the room with a confidence she did not feel.

  Immediately, she saw Lord Benjamin, dressed in a glamorous waistcoat that only enhanced his handsomeness. She met his gaze, realizing he must have been watching her for some time, taking in her reaction to his home. When his brown eyes met her blue eyes, she felt her toes quiver in her slippers, because somehow it was apparent to both of them that they were remembering the last time they had been together. It was not the rejection she gave him they were remembering, but the kiss.

  The way her skin felt beneath his hands…

  Her lips responding to his…

  Their bodies embracing…

  His palms cradling her face as the kiss went on and on…

  She flushed and had to look away, and he had to do the same or risk embarrassing them both.

  “Are you too warm?” her father asked her.

  “No, I am quite all right,” she said, biting her lip guiltily. She should not be meditating so closely on their embrace when there was no plan for an engagement or a marriage. It was only that she’d never imagined any man, let alone a man she thought so highly of, would hold her thusly.

  When she lifted her eyes back to his from beneath her lashes, she could see his were smoldering with passion and maybe even love. She felt stupid for considering he loved her when he had not said so, but Jane had been so insistent and a part of Julia hoped he did.

  Oh, why could it not be simple? Why could he not be the son of a gentleman, a Mr. Frederickson instead of the Earl of Wembley? Then she might be able to put aside the fact that she was scarred. But all this… Her eyes scanned the ballroom again. To think of what it would mean to someday be countess was overwhelming. But Benjamin wasn’t considering this, and one of them had to.

  She liked Benjamin. He made her laugh, and he made her angry. But she had been meek and quiet for far too long. He also entertained all of Jane’s idiosyncrasies.

  But she couldn’t forget what her sister had said as she departed: Let yourself dream.

  Cat could hear people tittering as they noticed where his attention rested. He did not try to hide his admiration for her, and his eyes hardly left her, even when others approached him to speak. The passion in his eyes made her stomach jump, but she also realized he looked a bit sad because he still thought she did not return his feelings. Oh, how she longed to tell him otherwise, how her sister had changed her mind, how in prayer she had found courage she did not know she had.

  It was your bravery that stayed with me, Benjamin had declared; so, she would be brave now and allow herself to smile at him, returning his gaze from beneath her thick eyelashes.

  She pushed the other women out of her head, even though they had smooth and perfect skin, unmarred by the flames of a fire and wore gowns so beau
tiful it could make a person cry. In that moment, with Benjamin looking at her, it didn’t matter.

  Catherine heard a hush of whispers as Benjamin approached her. In return, he was giving himself the compliment of having so much patience, since he’d waited this long to approach her. Even knowing how they last parted, he could not be away from her. He could not see her and stand across the room from her and think of anything but crossing the space between them. He bowed his head as he stopped in front of Mr. Watson and Cat. “If you are not otherwise engaged, Miss Watson, would you do me the honor of joining me in a dance?”

  Cat looked at her father, the only man who had ever told her she was beautiful until Benjamin, who was so happy to see his daughter out in society and happy. He nodded, and they both pretended he didn’t have tears in his eyes.

  As they walked toward the line of other couples, her hand in Benjamin’s, she flushed further. They would be dancing the quadrille, a lively and flirtatious dance. She’d only ever danced in the sitting room, pretending with Jane that they were at a ball such at this, so she was nervous over the steps. But she could be brave. She could be brave if Benjamin kept looking at her in such a fashion.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Benjamin told her lowly so only she could hear. “You always do, but especially tonight. I am so glad you came. I have been watching the door, waiting… hoping…”

  She looked up at him as they stood in front of one another in line with the other couples. The music began, and they grasped hands, walking in a circle. “I wanted to come. I hoped to come. I hoped that I had not ruined things completely. Jane gave me a very stern talking to after the last time I saw you.”

  “She saw us?” he asked in a whisper, swallowing over the fact that the embrace was not correct, considering they were not courting or engaged.

  “Fortunately, no.” There was laughter in her eyes as she looked at him, absolving him of any guilt. “She is just a great eavesdropper, our Jane, not a spy. Though I have never heard her yell at me the way she did after you took your leave.”

  They turned in the opposite direction. His thumb caressed her hand. He grinned at her. “If Jane’s words moved you at all to consider my question, then I would be the happiest of men.”

  As they grasped hands again, she met his eye boldly. “The happiest of men?” She had never flirted with a man before, but it came easily since she had such great admiration for him. “Do you not worry, giving me such power over your every happiness?”

  “You speak as if I have a choice,” he murmured lowly to her so the other dancers could not discern his words. “You have to know that it has been a long time now where one word from you could secure my every happiness.”

  “Jane helped me to see reason,” she admitted. “I made a terrible mistake the last time we saw one another.” His eyes went liquid with love at her admission, like dark hot chocolate. “I was so very wrong to think that it was your question that was wrong instead of my answer to it.”

  “I’ve made thousands of mistakes, but the question I asked you is not one of them,” he replied.

  They chose their words carefully since anyone could overhear, but his thumb caressed her hand as they turned. The dance was coming to an end far too quickly, and for the first time, Cat realized that the constant ache she’d been feeling since he’d left for the continent was the simple fact that she missed him. When she was without him, she missed him. It was as simple and as perplexing as that.

  She thought of the boy who tried to comfort her after the fire and the man who declared that her bravery made her beautiful and held her in his arms. She allowed herself to dream, as Jane encouraged, of what it would be like to be loved by such a man, though he had not yet declared such feelings.

  Before she knew it, the song was over. They began the walk back to her father. “Will you save another dance for me?” he asked before they were close enough for Mr. Watson to hear. “Please say yes. It would be torture… I cannot imagine being near you and not dancing with you.”

  “People will talk,” she replied softly. “There are many eligible women here who would love to dance with you. There was talk in the village that this ball was designed to find you a bride. It wouldn’t do for you to show me such favor.”

  “But there’s only one woman I want to dance with. The question is: will she dance with me?” He grinned at her, but she could sense his nerves. She could not blame him, because every other time he’d declared his feelings, she’d rebuffed him.

  For the first time, she felt free, giddy over her feelings for him. “There isn’t anything she would like more.” She meant every single word.

  He slowed his steps so he could make an important point. “As for a bride…” he murmured so lowly she had to lean nearer to him to hear it. “I must speak to you about that as well. You and only you, my darling.”

  She curtsied as she was returned to her father, and he bowed. She did not know what to say, but she felt a grin on her face.

  * * *

  11

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  * * *

  “Maybe you are jealous because you see

  what is clear to us all…”

  * * *

  .

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  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Jealousy and Gossip

  .

  “You know I have always been proud of you,” Mr. Watson told Cat at the ball. He smiled at her with so much happiness that it seemed to beam out of him. His dreams for her were coming true. For so many years, he had longed for her to know her worth. “But I have never been more proud of you than I am tonight.”

  “Papa.” She returned his smile with a great deal of humility. “All I did was put on a dress and accompany you here. I am not that accomplished of a dancer to elicit such praise,” she teased. Praise always made her uncomfortable, which was why it was so difficult for her to accept Ben’s feelings for her.

  He chucked her chin as he used to do when she was young. “It’s much more than that, Cat, and you know that. For the first time, I feel as if you are beginning to see yourself the way people who love you see you, the way I know God sees you.”

  She shyly ducked her head a little. “I’m trying.” She paused, debating whether to tell him the rest of it, whether to reveal her true feelings about this night and about Ben. “You know; I remember him from the night of the fire. He spoke to me that night. I was terrified, and for a moment, he made me feel safe. He was only a boy but…”

  “What did he say when he spoke to you?” Mr. Watson asked curiously. For him, the memories of the fire were muddled, as it was the scariest night of his whole life, even worse than the day his wife died. If someone asked him to recall particular details, he never would be able to. Even now, so many years later, he had nightmares of roaring fires, the terror of believing his daughter dead, her screams of pain, and the uncertainty over whether she could overcome her injuries.

  “He told me that everything would be as it was before.” She laughed a little at herself, remembering the pain of that night and the fear of the unknown for only a second. She did not like to dwell on it. She could not—not here on this beautiful night, on this incredible estate. “I called him a liar, of course.”

  Her father burst into a loud guffaw before the man next to him pulled him into a conversation. Catherine did not mind. In fact, she was glad that her father would be able to socialize, as he had not done since her mother’s death. Left to her own devices, she tried to take in her surroundings: the enormous portraits of Benjamin’s ancestors, the grand staircase. Her eyes didn’t know where to land, but she did avoid looking at Benjamin, afraid if she began, she would never stop. His attentions left her weak at the knees, and when she considered that they were both on the precipices of being the happiest of people, she could not help but sigh.

  Perhaps if she would have searched him out, she would not have heard another voice cutting through the air.

  “Can
you believe he danced with her?”

  This female voice was high pitched and scathing with disgust, but despite its volume, Cat tried to tune it out because she wasn’t a part of that conversation and wouldn’t want to eavesdrop. Her intuition told her that this woman spoke of her but she did not want to believe it, not tonight when she had promised Jane to be positive and dream.

  “It must be that he felt pity for her,” another voice added with a cloying sweetness. “He must be such a kind man to show such a deformed thing favor. Perhaps he hopes to endear himself to the rest of us by showing his mercy in dancing with her. That must be it.”

  It was no longer difficult to discern that these women were talking about her and the dance she’d shared with Ben. Cat turned her head slightly, and in her peripheral, she saw a gaggle of pink and yellow skirts. She didn’t want these strangers’ words to matter to her, but it was not easy since one of the reasons she’d denied Benjamin was a prediction that there would be discussions just like this one in all of society. It shouldn’t matter what other people thought, and if they were only talking about her, it wouldn’t hurt her as much, but they went on.

  “Or,” the first voice continued shrilly, “he danced with someone he obviously won’t marry, someone obviously so ugly, to make a point to the rest of us. He doesn’t want to get married. He wants to continue his pursuits with loose women.”

 

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