A Timeless Romance Anthology: Sarah M. Eden British Isles Collection

by Sarah M. Eden

  As if on cue, the drawing room doors opened, and the butler stepped inside. “Mr. Julian Broadwood,” he announced.

  Elizabeth had never before wished to simply sink into the ground, but in that moment she would have happily procured a spade from the gardener and dug her way straight to the center of the earth. “Please, Mary,” she quietly pleaded. “Do not spill your speculations into his ears.”

  But Mary stepped past Elizabeth and closer to the door. “Why, Julian, how wonderful to see you.”

  “And you, Miss Gillerford.”

  Elizabeth turned enough to watch Mary lead him farther into the room. Please don’t say anything, Mary. Please.

  “Do sit with us,” Mary invited, indicating a seat very near the one she then lowered herself onto.

  He didn’t take the chair, however, first stopping to offer his bows to Mother and Father, and then he turned to face Elizabeth. “Miss Elizabeth.” He offered her a bow as well.

  She somehow managed the appropriate response despite her heart being firmly lodged in her throat. Mary looked far too pleased with herself for Elizabeth’s peace of mind.

  Julian was watching her a touch too closely. “You are pale,” he said. “Is anything the matter?”

  She looked quickly in Mary’s direction, rather desperately hoping that her sister had softened. If anything, Mary seemed even more jubilant. The worst, Elizabeth was quite certain, was yet to come.

  “Beth?” Julian whispered. “What is wrong?”

  “Julian,” Mary cooed. “We have been having the most diverting conversation. Your arrival could not have been better timed.”

  He didn’t look back at Mary but kept his searching gaze on Elizabeth— on her. She had no doubt he could see the abject misery in her eyes. Mary wouldn’t hesitate to humiliate her.

  “Please don’t do this, Mary.” Begging wasn’t likely to prevent humiliation, but Elizabeth had to try.

  “Do what, sister? I simply wish to include our dear friend in our very enjoyable discussion.” As innocent as a viper, she was.

  Elizabeth stepped closer to her sister. “I will stay with Gregory for the remainder of the Season, if that is what you wish. I will stay there until your future is firmly decided, if need be. Only, please, do not do this.”

  Mary simply arched an eyebrow. Elizabeth looked to her parents but could see that she would get no help from that quarter. Too many years they’d spent making plans for Mary and Julian; Elizabeth’s concerns had never been as important to any of them, and not always even to herself.

  “Do you know what we discovered this afternoon?” Mary said, obviously addressing Julian.

  “Please don’t,” Elizabeth whispered.

  “My dear little sister is in love. How very quaint, don’t you think?” There was a viciousness in Mary’s declaration that robbed it of any degree of sweetness.

  Elizabeth’s heart shattered.

  “Is she?” Julian didn’t sound amused. He didn’t even sound convinced.

  “Oh, yes,” Mother said. “She certainly is.” Her voice added to the declaration would make it more convincing. “But I suppose every girl must have her hopeless fantasy. It is certainly nothing for the family to be ashamed of.”

  It was always about the family.

  Don’t read in public, Elizabeth, you’ll embarrass us.

  You can’t have a Season until your sister is married; how would it look for us?

  Keep to your quiet corner, Elizabeth, where no one will eye us sidelong upon hearing your impertinent questions.

  “Would you care to hazard a guess who it is she fancies?” Mary offered to Julian.

  Elizabeth couldn’t bear it. She fled the room, not caring that doing so would only add fuel to her family’s complaints about her lack of manners. She wasn’t quite fast enough to miss Mary’s next words.

  “It’s you, Julian. How adorably ridiculous is that? She is in love with you.”

  Whether he believed Mary’s declaration, Elizabeth didn’t know. It didn’t matter. The next time he saw her, he would see the truth of it in her eyes. He would see how hopelessly she loved him.

  And he would either find her ridiculous or pitiful.

  She couldn’t bear either one.

  Chapter Seven

  For a moment, Julian couldn’t even think. He’d come to Elizabeth’s home on the hope that she might take a turn about the garden with him, or sit a moment in the sitting room. Something. Anything. He’d wrestled with the realization that Helene’s conversation had proffered him and had, in the quiet hours of morning, realized his sister was right.

  He did love Elizabeth, with a steady and deep love built on years of friendship. He’d thought his distaste for Mary was the result of her undesirable company and little more. How wrong he’d been. Elizabeth had claimed his heart, and he hadn’t even realized it.

  “Did you hear me, Julian?” Mary interrupted his thoughts. “Elizabeth, quiet, bookish Elizabeth, fancies herself quite in love with you. Is that not the most diverting thing?”

  He met her victorious gaze. “Why are you like this, Mary? You inflict pain with glee. You didn’t used to be this way.”

  Her smile disappeared on the instant. “I only meant to share something amusing. Do you not find it funny?”

  “Not in the least. For though I cannot approve of the way you went about it, hearing that there is even a chance that Miss Elizabeth might care for me is, perhaps, the most encouraging thing I have heard in this home these past three years.”

  Shock began to give way to panic in Mary’s face.

  He eyed Mrs. Gillerford but found himself with nothing to say to the lady. She’d allowed her younger daughter to be mistreated and hurt again and again, never protecting her, and never seeming to care. At times, she’d even participated in the cruelty.

  “Mr. Gillerford, under the circumstances I feel I should tell you that I am in love with your daughter. Not this one.” He motioned to Mary. “And should I be so fortunate as to earn her regard in return, I would very much like to have a conversation with you in the near future.”

  Mr. Gillerford’s heavily creased brow pulled deeper. “We are speaking of Elizabeth?” He clearly didn’t think that possible.

  She deserved so much better than this family.

  “If you will all excuse me,” he said, addressing them as a whole, “somewhere nearby, the lady I adore is hurting, and that is a circumstance I cannot allow to continue.” He sketched a quick bow and turned to go.

  “Julian, wait.” Mary caught up to him with alarming speed. “If I have offended you—”

  “The one you ought to be apologizing to is your sister. And then, may I suggest you search inside yourself for the kindhearted girl you were when we were children. She got lost somewhere along the way, and you would do well to find her again.”

  For once, Mary was speechless.

  “Good day, Miss Gillerford.” He left her there with no more than that.

  A short distance down the corridor, he came upon the housemaid who had accompanied them on the drive through Hyde Park. “I am looking for Miss Elizabeth.”

  “She’s stepped outside, into the back gardens, sir.”

  “Thank you.”

  That is precisely where he found her, on a bench in a lonely corner of the manicured gardens, with her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking as she cried. She didn’t look up as he approached, though she must have heard his footsteps.

  He sat beside her, unsure what to say.

  She spoke first, her voice tremulous. “Can we please pretend this day never happened?”

  But the day had been a revelation for him. For his part, he could not wish it undone. He set his arm about her and gently nudged her toward him. After a moment’s uncertainty, she accepted the unspoken offer and turned into his embrace, her face buried in his waistcoat.

  Julian rested his head atop hers, marveling that he’d not sooner realized his feelings for Beth. He’d embraced her and held her hand and
sat near her before, and always he’d experienced a rare and almost magical sense of belonging. But each time, he’d dismissed the feeling as nothing more than the result of their longstanding friendship. How blind he had been.

  “I missed you last evening, Beth.” He surprised himself with his own candor. Mary’s words had given him hope and courage. “I am never as happy in anyone’s company as I am in yours. I wish you could have stayed for dinner.”

  “Mary ruined that as well,” she said from within his arms.

  “What else has Mary ruined, dear? Her words were meant to wound, but they missed their mark.” He stroked her back, wishing she wasn’t so miserable. A gentleman didn’t often pour his heart out. Doing so whilst his lady love was weeping added an element of worry to the undertaking. “Do you remember last evening when you asked Damion why I was in such a sour mood?”

  She nodded against his chest, still not showing her face.

  “Helene invited him with the hope that you and he would develop a fondness for each other.” He still flinched at the idea, despite having reason to believe that Helene’s efforts had been in vain. “That is why I was unhappy.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Nothing for it but to make a full confession. “Your sister made a declaration just now. And while I don’t know the truth of it, I should like to make one of my own, if you will allow it.”

  She pulled a bit away, enough to look up into his eyes. So much pain, so much misery on her beloved face.

  “Do you still have the handkerchief I gave you yesterday?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not with me.”

  With a bit of maneuvering, he managed to fetch a square of linen from his coat pocket without fully releasing her. He gave it to her and allowed her to dab as necessary. Her gaze didn’t leave his face.

  “What is it you want to confess, Jules?” She looked equal parts hopeful and worried, no doubt matching his own expression.

  He brushed away a lingering tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. “I love you, Beth,” he said, diving right to the heart of the matter. “I cannot say with any certainty how long I’ve felt this way. It came on gradually, with the natural progression of our friendship.”

  Beth seemed to be holding her breath.

  “Was Mary being truthful? Did she have the right of it?” Now it was his turn to hold his breath.

  Her voice was quiet when she answered at last. “I have loved you since I was eight years old. But you have always been meant for Mary. Even when it became apparent that you didn’t share her expectations, it hardly mattered. I didn’t know who had your devotion, only that your heart would never be mine.”

  He cupped her face, his pulse leaping inside him. “Oh, Beth. It was always yours. I was simply too thickheaded to realize it sooner.”

  She closed her eyes, breathing what could only be described as a sigh of relief.

  He kissed her, slowly, savoring a moment which had, unbeknownst to him, been a very long time in coming. His Beth, his dear, wonderful Beth. How had he not realized the true state of his heart?

  They sat there for a long moment, she in his embrace, as he inwardly shook his head at his own stupidity. How fortunate he’d been that his idiocy hadn’t cost him her love. What if she’d grown weary of waiting on him? What if someone else had captured her heart after he’d inadvertently broken it again and again for years?

  “Mary will be unbearable now.” Beth leaned more heavily against him. “Do you suppose she would ever find me if I simply refused to leave the garden?”

  He hadn’t thought much about the repercussions of his declaration on her home life. “I’d wager your entire family will be impossible.”

  She wrapped her arms around him. “Let’s stay out here forever so I never have to face them.”

  “I have an even better idea. Let us go pay a call on Helene. I’d wager she’d require little convincing to invite you to stay with her for a few weeks, perhaps even until the end of the Season.”

  “Do you think she would?”

  He kissed the top of Beth’s head. “I am certain of it. And I could come for Helene’s at-homes, and awkwardly take tea, and attempt to catch your eye. Robert, I am certain, would enjoy playing the overprotective guardian, demanding to know my intentions and insisting I return you unharmed from every ride in the park.”

  He could feel her laugh, and it did his heart good. She’d been unhappy enough that day for a lifetime.

  “It will not, perhaps, be a true debut as you deserve,” he said, “but I hope it will make up for, in a small way, your lack of a Season.”

  “Promise to steal a kiss now and then, despite the watchful eye of my overprotective guardian, and I will consider myself well compensated.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek then settled into his arms. “You are the only reason I came to London these past three years. I wanted to see you.”

  “I was so unforgivably blind, Beth.” He held her ever closer. “But I will atone for it. I promise you, I will.”

  Chapter Eight

  All of London had likely heard Mary’s tantrum after Julian had announced that Elizabeth would be spending the remainder of the Season with his sister. While Elizabeth had taken no satisfaction in the display, she’d seen it as an insight to her sister’s character. Mary had always been given everything she’d ever wanted without question, and usually without delay. Julian had been firmly on her list of intended acquisitions, but he had chosen Elizabeth.

  The passage of a month had neither lessened her memory of Mary’s anger nor left her in any less a degree of awe at Julian’s affection for her. That he loved her, she was absolutely certain. His devotion could not have been more evident. He held her hand at every opportunity and never bid her farewell without a kiss, however protracted, given Helene’s vigilant presence.

  Elizabeth’s parents had still not given their approval for her to have a true Season, so her days were spent as something of a companion to Helene, accompanying her on shopping expeditions, sitting quietly nearby during her at-homes. She didn’t accompany the Pinnelles to the theatre or musicales or balls. But Julian came for dinner every evening before the social whirl began to spend a precious hour or two with her before propriety required that he leave. She loved those brief moments with him but longed to have the right to be with him always.

  Four weeks to the day of Elizabeth’s departure from her parents’ home, Helene held a dinner party. The guest list matched precisely that of the previous dinner Elizabeth had been forced to quit early. As the appointed time came and went, however, she could not help a feeling of disappointment. Julian had not yet arrived.

  Mary did not wear the smug look Elizabeth might have expected. Indeed, she noted something quieter and more ponderous in her sister’s expression than Elizabeth had ever seen. She didn’t know at all what to make of it.

  Just as she began to wonder if Julian meant to come at all, she heard the arrival of a carriage. As it always did, her heart lightened simply knowing that he was nearby. A moment later, the butler stepped into the drawing room.

  “Mr. Broadwood and Mr. Gregory Gillerford.”

  Her brother had come? From Surrey?

  Only Helene, Mr. Pinnelle, and Julian did not appear surprised. Elizabeth’s gaze darted from Julian to Gregory and back again. Her brother made a quick succession of good evening to their parents and Mary before turning an enormous grin to Elizabeth.

  “Haven’t you an embrace for your favorite brother?” he teased.

  She adored him; she always had. Eagerly taking his invitation, she embraced him for a long, drawn-out moment. “I do wish you had come to London with us. I’ve missed you ever so much.”

  “And I wish you’d stayed in Surrey. The old pile of rocks isn’t the same without you.” He released her, still smiling all the while. “Julian here insisted I make the journey to Town. It seems he has some scheme up his sleeve.”

  She turned her attention to her dearest love once more. “A sch
eme? Dare I ask what it is?”

  “I had meant to wait until after dinner, but seeing as everyone is here, and staring at me, I suppose I would do well to jump straight to the heart of the matter.”

  What was he hinting at?

  He took her hand, holding it both gently and earnestly, and led her to where her father stood watching in confusion.

  “Mr. Gillerford,” Julian began. “It will come as no surprise to you, seeing as I told you as much only a few short weeks ago that I love your daughter. I have loved her for a very long time, and my feelings have only grown. She is the dearest person to me in all the world.”

  She’d once worried that he merely endured her. But he’d declared her the dearest person in the world to him, and he’d said it without hesitation or qualification. The dearest. His dearest.

  “As she was not permitted a proper Season, I have not been able to court her in the manner she deserves. The chaperonage of my sister and brother-in-law has allowed me to call on her, and I have done what I could to press my suit. I have cherished every moment of her company this past month. But I find I can no longer be content with mere snatches of her time.”

  Elizabeth had to remind herself to breathe. She knew what he was saying, the declaration he was building toward. She had imagined this moment so many times and wondered if, perhaps, she was dreaming yet.

  “Our families are well enough known to one another that I need not make you acquainted with my social standing or financial situation,” Julian continued, still addressing Father. “Further, you have known that I was courting your daughter these past weeks yet made no objection, so I do not believe you are opposed to the idea.”

  Father shook his head firmly. “I long ago decided you’d be a good match for my daughter, though I’d assumed you would court a different one. Everyone assumed that.”