The Earl's Regret_Regency Romance

by Joyce Alec

  “Oh,” she breathed, one hand on her heart. “I did not expect to see you here, especially at this hour.”

  He chuckled, his heart swelling with delight. “I could say the very same, although I will not pretend I am not vastly pleased at your presence. You care for reading, I presume?”

  She nodded, her cheeks darkening just a little. “Indeed. I have just come to see if I can find a few new books to add to my collection. I am something of an avid reader.” She gave a quiet laugh, her eyes seeming to sparkle. “My father always mutters that he spends more on books than on gowns, although I cannot believe he is serious.”

  Finding her completely wonderful, Luke smiled back at her, stepping just a fraction closer. She did not move away. Her eyes were a wonderful hazel, and he marveled at the chocolate-colored curls that escaped from her bonnet. Luke could not remember the last time he had ever thought any lady so lovely.

  “I should leave you to your browsing,” she said when he did not reply to her. “I do hope I have not interrupted you.”

  “I was about to take a walk in the park,” Luke found himself saying, suddenly desperate to keep her with him for as long as he could. “Might you consider walking with me?”

  For a few moments, Luke thought she would refuse him. There was a confusion in her eyes, a steady gaze that told him she was considering things. They were not, as yet, introduced and the façade they kept up was becoming a little ridiculous, but Luke found that he did not want to end it. It was as though he rather enjoyed their little game, finding it an intimacy rather than anything else. It was their little secret, so that when it came the time for one to be properly introduced, there would be that shared smile as they greeted one another properly, pretending to not know one another.

  “I doubt we will see anyone,” he said softly, as though to encourage her. “I am quite sure the rest of the ton are still sound asleep in their beds. And you have your maid with you, so you need not worry in that regard.”

  A shy smile crossed her lips, and she glanced away from him for a moment. “You are very persuasive, my lord.”

  He chuckled softly. “I should not repent of it, if it will encourage you to walk with me for a time.”

  Her eyes met his, and Luke felt his heart swell with a sudden hope.

  “Then yes, for a short time,” she said quietly. “Let me just spend a few minutes perusing the books, and then I shall join you at the entrance to the park.”

  Luke waited at the park, his mind and heart in complete contradiction. He knew that he was betrothed, but the fact that he had not been introduced to his future wife still gave him a strange sense of freedom. It was as though he was more than able to spend as much time with this mysterious lady as he wished, since he was not yet officially courting his betrothed. Yet, despite this thought, Luke felt as if he were betraying Lady Elizabeth.

  He half wondered what she might now look like, half hoping she had the same warmth in her eyes as his mysterious lady did. Part of him cursed his engagement, wishing that he was free to pursue whomever he wished. Then, mayhap, he might be able to walk with this lady in the park, in the hope that he would one day be able to court her. However, he knew that was more than a little foolish. He could not break his engagement; he could not let both families down in order to allow his foolish heart to chase after another—especially when he knew very little about her.

  Then, she appeared, and all coherent thought left his mind.

  “My lady,” he said, with a slight bow. “We are to keep up our charade, it seems.”

  She laughed, her face lit with mirth. “Indeed, it appears so, my lord. We must be veritable strangers to one another until the next ball, as you decided.”

  He chuckled and offered her his arm, and after only a momentary hesitation, she took it.

  As Luke had predicted, the park was entirely empty apart from a few birds and rabbits here and there. They walked for a few minutes in silence, before she sighed happily and said something about how lovely the morning was. Luke smiled to himself, thinking that they at least had that in common.

  “I, too, enjoy a quiet morning,” he said softly. “It gives me time to think and to reflect, away from the busyness of the town during the later hours.”

  She glanced up at him curiously. “You do not care for the ton?”

  With a slight shrug, Luke found himself telling her the truth. “I spent my first Season doing what I liked, only to realize just how much that was damaging my character. Since then, whilst I have enjoyed things like the theatre and the occasional recital, I find the beau monde to be somewhat grasping with very little substance to their interest. I would rather have a few good friends who know me well instead of a whole host of acquaintances who know very little about me, but only care for my title and fortune.”

  She looked up at him again, holding his gaze for a moment. “How very wise of you, my lord. That is exactly what I think.”

  A happiness settled over Luke’s soul, and for the next hour, they walked in the park together, the maid a little behind, and talked of a great many things. He discovered that she loved being out of doors, caring for her plants, or spotting various types of birds in the garden, and of course, taking the time to draw them when she could. He found that she was not good at singing arias, although she tried her very best. Whilst she enjoyed London, she did miss the quiet of the country. His heart seemed to meld with her own, finding her so similar to him in so many ways. It was almost a physical pain to have to part from her, his enjoyment of the time he had spent with her overwhelming his entire being.

  Lifting her hand to his mouth, he pressed a delicate kiss to the back of her hand, feeling heat soar through him. When he looked up, she was blushing furiously, not quite able to meet his gaze.

  There was something between them, something that he ought not to allow but found himself unable to prevent.

  “I have very much enjoyed our time together,” he said softly. “I look forward to being introduced to you very soon.”

  She smiled at him, her eyes filled with warmth and happiness. “As do I. Good day, my lord.”

  “Good day, my lady,” he murmured, keeping his eyes on her, as she turned away from him and began to walk back down the street, leaving him far behind.

  6

  “I insist that you are introduced to your bride this very evening.”

  Luke nodded, trying not to allow any of the frustration he felt show in his expression. “Very good, Father.” Having arrived a little too late, they were now sitting at the back of the room, listening to some young lady’s song. Lady Thorpe had invited them both to her musical evening, but thus far, Luke was rather regretting accepting the invitation.

  “I am going away tomorrow, you know,” his father continued, as Luke strained to hear him over the sound of young Miss Wellby attempting to reach a particularly high note—and failing miserably.

  “Away?” Luke repeated, frowning. “Where?”

  His father grinned at him, his blue eyes filled with mirth. “When you bear the title, Luke, then you will know exactly why you need to return to the country in the middle of the Season. Business matters do not simply wait until a convenient time.”

  “Do you need me to come with you?”

  His father’s grin widened all the more. “No, not at all. I would not deprive you of your time in London, especially when you will need to court your betrothed.”

  The smile faded from Luke’s face. He had quite forgotten about such a thing, recalling too late that he would have to spend time taking Lady Elizabeth all over town in an effort to get to know his future wife.

  “Now, shall we go to meet her?”

  “Now?” Luke repeated, as the screeching of Miss Wellby continued. “We are in the middle of a musical evening, Father. We cannot simply rise and quit the room.”

  His father chuckled. “No, I suppose not. What I meant is that your dear Lady Elizabeth is just now due to perform.”

  Luke stared at his father for a mome
nt, before turning his head slowly back towards the front of the room. He could not breathe, his heart thundering wildly in his chest as he waited for his mysterious bride to appear.

  A young lady rose from her chair and came towards the front of the room, and just as she turned to sit down at the piano, someone tapped Luke on the shoulder.

  Twisting his head around, Luke accepted the note from the footman but did not even think to open it. Sitting back in his chair, he made to set his eyes on the lady, only to realize that the pianoforte was directly in his view of her.

  “Well?” his father whispered, as the music began to start. “What do you think? A real beauty, is she not?”

  “In truth, I did not see her,” Luke confessed, rather frustrated. “The footman made to hand me a note, and I missed her. Now I cannot see her face!”

  His father glanced at him before returning his attention to the lady at the piano. “Then you shall have to wait until her set is finished.”

  That did not sit well with Luke. His nervousness upon seeing his bride-to-be was growing steadily by the moment, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “For heaven’s sake, son, sit quietly!” his father whispered, with a small smile on his face. “You shall see her soon enough.”

  Luke shook his head and sat forward in his chair, the note from the footman still in his hand. He wanted nothing other than to simply rise from his chair and move across the room in order to see her, but to do such a thing would only draw attention to himself, and on top of that, it would be seen as rather improper. He would have to wait until she finished, which might not be for a good half hour.

  Unfolding the note, Luke tried to concentrate on it instead on his elusive bride, his brows furrowing as he read the few short lines. Quietly, he handed it to his father, who upon reading it, glanced over at his son with a look of resigned surprise, before handing it back to him.

  “You need not go to see that cousin of yours, just because he begs you to do so,” his father muttered, out of the corner of his mouth. “The man is up to no good, as usual.”

  Luke rolled his eyes, folding up the note and putting it back in his pocket. His cousin, who this year had taken on his father’s title of baron, had apparently not changed his ways since Luke had last seen him. At one time, he had considered Parke a friend, and he had enjoyed all the revelry his cousin had enjoyed during Luke’s first Season. After that, they had drifted apart considerably. Parke now enjoyed throwing himself headlong into as much liquor and other pleasures as he could manage, whereas Luke had been forced to take a long, hard look at his choices. Since then, Luke had chosen to live rather differently. He had not seen his cousin since he had attended the funeral of the old Baron Parke a little over a year ago.

  “His mourning year must be up,” Luke commented with a wry smile. “I would have thought that a new title would have meant he might have to consider his responsibilities, but apparently not.” The note begged for Luke’s help over some matter with creditors, who were in search of Parke’s blood since he had not paid them what they were due, telling him that he was currently ‘holed up’ in White’s, waiting for someone to assist him in escaping from the creditors, whom Parke was sure were waiting outside for him.

  Luke was not inclined to go to Parke’s side, however. He would not turn away from the chance to meet his new bride in order to go in search of his cousin, regardless of whether or not they were family.

  “You will go to help him?”

  Shrugging, Luke tried to catch a glimpse of his bride, as she finished her wonderful piano sonata, but found that he still could not see her. “I suppose I shall at some point this evening. I am in no particular rush.”

  His father sighed, shaking his head. “I know not why he is so determined to ruin his life and his family’s fortune. Thank goodness he has no mother or siblings to care for, God rest her soul.”

  “My aunt would be horrified at what Parke is doing, were she still living,” Luke replied with a dark look at his father. “I thank God she is not.”

  “Maybe you can knock some sense into him,” his father shrugged with a wry smile. “Goodness knows the man needs to listen to someone.”

  Luke did not reply, his attention drawn to the lady in front of him who rose from the pianoforte as the rest of the company applauded her.

  “Can you see her now?” his father murmured, as she came around the pianoforte to dip into a small, graceful, curtsy. “What say you?”

  Luke found that he could not say anything, such was his shock. The lady standing there was none other than the mysterious young lady he had now had the opportunity to speak to on three previous occasions, the lady he had walked with in the park only a day previously. The lady he had been so conflicted over, finding an affection growing in his heart when he knew it should not be there. He had been caught by her beauty and grace, and now to discover that such a creature was to be his bride made him almost overwhelmed with delight. There would be no more of a struggle between his heart and mind, no more questioning what he was to do. All had come to a rather perfect end.

  “She is wonderful, I assure you,” his father continued, as Lady Elizabeth caught Luke’s gaze for a moment. “She will make you very happy, I dare say.”

  Lady Elizabeth’s cheeks darkened to a rosy pink, as Luke held her gaze, her expression almost a little embarrassed. She was clearly well aware of him, aware that he was now studying her with a new sense of wonder, overcome with the news that the lady he had not been able to get from his mind was, in fact, his betrothed.

  “I have met her before,” he said hoarsely, “Although I did not know her name.”

  “Oh?” his father asked, looking surprised. “And did she know you?”

  Luke shook his head, suddenly desperate to remove himself from his seat and hurry over to Lady Elizabeth so that he might introduce himself properly. He could hardly wait for her reaction, aware that there had been something blossoming between them.

  “Well, it looks as though you are now to both have that opportunity,” his father said, easing himself upright to standing, wincing slightly as he stood. “I keep forgetting that I am not as young as I used to be,” he muttered, as Luke came after him. “That blasted knee of mine.”

  Luke gave him a sympathetic smile but found that he could find no response, such was his desire to see Lady Elizabeth. The rest of the guests had now risen to their feet and were going in search of refreshments before the second half of the evening could begin. Luke did not care for food nor for drink, his mind fixed solely on the lady he could call his own.

  “This way, my boy,” his father muttered, making his way through the crowd and toward the young lady, and from Luke’s assumption, her mother.

  He saw her eyes flare, as she caught sight of him and his father approaching. She did not look at his father but only at him, her cheeks still a dusky pink. Luke recognized the lady with her at once, recalling her from the time he had been at her home and introduced to her.

  “Lady Lewisham!” Luke heard his father exclaim, as he hurried forward to greet the lady. “How very good to see you again.”

  “Lord Stowell,” the lady replied, with a bright smile. “How wonderful! I am only sorry that my husband is not here to greet you.”

  Luke kept his eyes on Lady Elizabeth, seeing her frown just a little as she glanced at her mother and then to Luke’s father. There was a slow dawning awareness on her face, her mouth falling a little ajar as she turned her gaze back to Luke. Unable to stop his smile, Luke found himself practically grinning as she became aware of exactly who he was and what he was to be to her.

  “And, of course, this is my daughter, Lady Elizabeth,” the Lady Lewisham continued, with a bright smile which she directed over towards Luke.

  Lady Elizabeth curtsied, her eyes darting from Luke to his father and back again. Her smile was warm, yet her eyes filled with both confusion and embarrassment. Luke wanted to tell her not to be ashamed, that there had been nothing improper bet
ween them thus far. All in all, he found this a very happy situation, his future now bright and shining in front of him as he smiled at Lady Elizabeth.

  “How very good to meet you again,” Luke’s father said, putting one hand on Luke’s shoulder. “And this is my son, Luke, Earl of Mallon.”

  Luke bowed at once, before catching her hand and bending over it. “Lady Elizabeth,” he said quietly, feeling her pulse fluttering in her wrist underneath his fingers. “How very good it is to make your acquaintance.”

  She swallowed hard, her eyes wide. “Indeed,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Very good to meet you, Lord Mallon.”

  7

  Elizabeth could not breathe, her stomach tightening as Lord Mallon, her betrothed, bent over her hand. His lips brushed the back of her hand, and she felt her cheeks flush.

  This was not what she had expected in the least, and from the astonishment still written on his expression, he had not expected it either.

  Something like joy began to bubble up within her. She had no need to worry any longer as to what her husband would be like, nor whether or not she would find him in any way attractive. She had already felt the spark between them when they had first met, when she had not even known his name. The excitement she had felt, the sudden, unexpected thrill of his gentle touch now all seemed to be quite acceptable, given that he was to be her husband. She just had to hope that he felt the same as she. Given that he was clearly handsome, and that he had been so visibly attracted to her whilst being betrothed, Elizabeth felt a sliver of worry bury itself in her heart. Would he take a mistress when they married? She knew a great many gentleman did, but now that she knew who he was, the very thought of it stuck a huge pain into the depths of her heart.

  “Elizabeth, you are very quiet,” her mother prompted, with a slight warning to her voice. She was expected to say something, expected to continue the conversation, and yet she could not. Her throat was dry, her surprise still overwhelming her.