by Joyce Alec
Lord Mallon chuckled, his smile directed solely towards her. “Shall we take a walk, Lady Elizabeth?”
She blinked for a moment before nodding. “A walk would be very pleasant.”
“Just around the room, of course,” he said at once, catching his father’s sharp look. “Or, mayhap, the gardens, if the doors are opened. Our host does have a particular lovely garden.”
Elizabeth felt her breath hitch, her skin tingling all over, as she anticipated what might pass between them when they were alone in the gardens.
“Just ensure you return my daughter to me within the hour,” Lady Lewisham said with a small smile. “It will be good for you both to get to know one another before the wedding date is set.”
Elizabeth’s smile faded as she saw Lord Mallon frown. Was he not pleased with the idea of matrimony? Did he find the prospect to be an unpleasant one? For a sudden, horrible moment, she wondered if Lord Mallon was something of a rake, a man used to toying with women of the ton. She could not expect him to behave properly in his young years, given that her own brother had picked up a scandal or two during his time in London. However, Elizabeth had to hope that Lord Mallon was now a respectable gentleman. She could think of nothing worse than him being an all-out rogue.
“Shall we, Lady Elizabeth?”
He was holding out his arm to her, and aware that her mother was practically beaming at her, she took it at once and began to walk with him through the crowd.
“I do hope you will not mind a quiet walk in the gardens,” Lord Mallon murmured, glancing down at her before returning his gaze straight ahead of him. “I think there are a few things we might need to talk about, and I do not think that a room filled with other guests is the best place for such a thing.”
Elizabeth laughed softly and heard him chuckle. “Indeed not, Lord Mallon. You are quite right. We do have a very great deal to talk about.”
He looked down at her and held her gaze for a moment. Elizabeth was struck by the intensity held in his eyes. It made her shiver and burn at the same time, her whole body almost burning with a strange, inexplicable heat.
This was so unexpected, and yet so perfect.
He cleared his throat and looked away before hurrying her out of the doors towards the gardens, which were lit by beautiful lanterns. Elizabeth caught her breath, her eyes wide at the sight of such loveliness, realizing that what Lord Mallon had said about their host having beautiful gardens had been something of an underestimation. They were completely stunning.
“Alone, for a time at least,” Lord Mallon murmured softly. “My goodness, Elizabeth, we have had a strange path towards one another.”
To hear him use her name without its title came as something of a surprise to her, but as she looked at him, she realized that it was something she should expect. They were betrothed, after all.
“We have,” she said quietly. “I will confess to being rather relieved about it.”
His eyebrows rose. “You are?”
“Of course, I am,” she replied with a laugh. “I will not pretend that I have not been rather worried about meeting you. I had very little idea of your appearance and did not know whether or not you would have any inclination toward me.”
“I do not think that you need concern yourself in that particular regard any longer,” he murmured in a low voice, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. “You cannot be in any doubt as to how much I care for your company. You caught my eye the first time I saw you, and I have been unable to remove you from my thoughts since then.”
Elizabeth swallowed and looked up at him, caught by the dim light of the lanterns flickering across his strong features. “I feel the same way, Lord Mallon,” she managed to say, aware of just how hoarse her voice appeared to be. “I am already looking forward to developing a deep friendship with you.”
Lord Mallon smiled, walking her a little off the path and towards a darker part of the gardens. Elizabeth went willingly, her breath catching in her chest as he slipped one arm around her waist.
“I know we are not to speak of our betrothal until the Season is out,” he said softly, as they walked under a canopy of trees. “But I would like to propose to you sooner than that.”
Her heart quickened its pace. “I would be glad of that, Lord Mallon.”
“I will, of course, court you as I ought,” he continued, with a smile that infused his very words. “I believe that you are right to suggest that we get to know one another better, although I believe that a foundation has already begun. I do not delight in the prospect of waiting until the Season is almost at its conclusion before wedding plans can begin to be made. What say you to that, my dear?”
The warmth in his voice made her blush, the heat of his hand on her waist seeping into her skin. She was not used to being spoken to with such affection, and even though they had known one another only for a short time, it felt right to be addressed in such a way.
“I would be delighted whenever you choose to do so,” she said, her words caught by the gentle breeze as she spoke. “Although you need not go to such lengths, Lord Mallon. We are already betrothed.”
He shook his head. “Not in the way I would wish, Elizabeth. I will propose to you at the right time, once we have come to know one another better. I will do so in the knowledge that you will accept.”
Elizabeth found herself pressed back against a large tree trunk, her senses swimming. Was he about to kiss her? She found herself suddenly longing for it, a desire that she had never known before seeping into her veins.
And then a sudden thought struck her. Something she had to know before she allowed such an intimacy.
“I must ask,” she said breathlessly, as he came closer to her. “I must ask whether or not you intend to have any mistresses or the like.”
The warmth was gone from him in an instant. He stepped back, releasing her, and Elizabeth felt herself wince as she realized she had overstepped.
“A mistress?” he repeated, his voice empty of the warmth that had been there only moments ago. “Whatever makes you ask such a thing?”
Elizabeth began to stammer, her words flooding out over one another. “It is just that I know a great many gentlemen do such a thing, not that I am judging either them or their wives, you understand. It is just that, since we met, I have been aware of our connection, despite our betrothal, and….” She trailed off, realizing that she was not making much sense. “I suppose, Lord Mallon, I am asking such things because I wish to know what to expect from our marriage.”
Lifting her chin, Elizabeth did not shirk before him, nor did she retract her question. As far as she was concerned, she had every right to ask him such a thing, given that he was to be her husband for as long as they both had life. And to kiss a gentleman who had every intention of taking another when they wed was not something she was inclined to do.
He lifted his head and studied her, even though she could only see a glimpse of his face through the shifting shadows. She could not tell what he was thinking, whether he was angry with her or frustrated with himself.
“Elizabeth,” he said eventually, his voice low and firm. “You are quite correct in saying that we need to become better acquainted with one another. Had you known me better, you would have known that such a question did not even require asking.”
His hand touched hers, and she took it gladly, relieved that he had not become angry with her as she had thought he might do.
“I will never take a mistress, not for as long as we are wed,” he promised, his voice a little softer. “You need not fear, Elizabeth. Just as you are loyal to me, I am loyal to you. I will not pretend that I did not have some foolish encounters when I was a younger man, and indeed, if you have questions for me in that regard, I will do all I can to answer them honestly. However, I will be truthful and pledge to you that my hands will touch no other but you. My heart will be filled with none but you. You, Elizabeth, shall be my all.”
Elizabeth felt herself soften, the tension and
worry she had felt flowing right out from her.
“I am very glad to hear it, Lord Mallon,” she replied softly. “Forgive me if I have offended you by asking such a question.”
“You did not offend me,” he stated, coming a little closer to her. “And I insist that you refer to me as Mallon, whenever we are alone. Or, you may also call me Luke, if you prefer a little more intimacy.”
Elizabeth blushed. “Thank you, my lord. I-I mean, Luke,” she said, testing out his name on her lips. “You are very kind, especially after so short an acquaintance.”
“But yet it feels as though I have known you for a long time,” he murmured, running one gentle finger down her soft cheek. “I feel as though I have carried you in my heart for so many years, as though I have always had you by my side.”
His lips touched hers, and Elizabeth tried to steady herself against the overwhelming feelings that ran through her body. Her fingers were clinging to the sides of his jacket, the length of her body pressed against his. There was no shame, no embarrassment, no thought that what they were doing was wrong. It felt entirely right and good and proper. As he deepened the kiss, Elizabeth gave herself up to the feelings he was pulling from her, delighted to know that this man would one day be her husband. They would share a life together. This was only the beginning.
8
Two Days Later
Luke sighed happily to himself, as he sat back on in his chair, having just enjoyed a splendid breakfast. His father had set off for home almost immediately after Luke had been introduced to Elizabeth, clearly glad that the meeting had taken place. He had no concerns now, for he had made it clear to Luke that he was to court the girl, propose, and set a wedding date by the end of the Season.
Elizabeth had been as astonished as he to discover that they had already been acquainted—albeit unofficially—prior to their first meeting. What a relief it had been to see that the woman who was to be his bride was an altogether lovely one. Luke would be lying were he to say that he was not attracted to her, recalling how his blood had begun to heat as he had kissed her.
Elizabeth had been so soft and sweet, and clearly had never been kissed before, which made him appreciate her all the more. He was already looking forward to seeing her again, and he had made the attempt to call on her yesterday afternoon, only to discover that she and her mother were out on a previous engagement. Having left his card, he had returned home to write a note to her requesting that he be permitted to call upon her the following day. Her response had been almost immediate, clearly thrilled with the prospect of seeing him again. Since then, Luke had been thinking of almost nothing else.
That was, until his rather ridiculous cousin interrupted his silence.
“Mallon?”
The door creaked open, and the pale face of his cousin, Baron Parke, peeked around it.
Luke bit back a sigh and gestured for him to enter. “You need not hide from me, Parke.”
His cousin walked in, closing the door behind him. He was a tall, wiry fellow with a shock of dark hair and clear blue eyes that had the habit of looking all about in a rather suspicious manner. He had requested Luke’s help for a certain matter two days ago, and once Elizabeth and her mother had taken their leave, Luke had no choice but to go to his aid. He could not simply turn his back on family, despite the desire to do just that.
Aware that he had a great deal of wealth, Luke had unwillingly paid off his cousin’s debts to the two men waiting outside White’s. Then, he went in to claim his cousin. He discovered that Parke now no longer had lodgings, since he had not paid what was due. Since he could not exactly leave him on the street, he had told him that he might stay with him for a day or so until he could make arrangements to travel home again.
Luke discovered that Parke’s father, before he died, had stipulated in the will that his son not be given full access to all of the Baron’s accumulated wealth at one time. There was strict sum for the first five years, and only then would all be open to Parke. It was a rather strange thing for any father to put in their will, but now it all became clear to Luke. Parke was not a wise man, and he was inclined to throw his money around. Clearly, Parke’s father had hoped that five years would be enough time for his son to learn to take care of his coin.
Luke was not so sure.
“Have you made arrangements to return home, Parke?” Luke asked directly, as his cousin sat opposite him and helped himself to a piece of toast.
Parke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes, cousin. I should be away from here by the day after tomorrow.”
It was a day or two later than Luke would have liked, but he did not complain. He simply nodded. “Good.”
“And I shall repay you for those debts of mine you paid,” Parke continued hurriedly. “I know you did me a great service, and I should like to repay it.”
Luke considered this for a moment before agreeing to it. Parke’s late father would have wanted his son to pay for his debts, and if Luke did not insist on being repaid, then Parke would learn nothing. “Very good,” he said, nodding. “By the end of the quarter?”
Parke’s face paled even more, but he inclined his head regardless. “Yes, of course. You are very good to me, cousin.”
Luke tried to smile, but failed, his expression a little dark. He was not quite sure that he liked his cousin, and he certainly did not care for his behavior. The next few minutes passed in silence as they both ate, with Luke finishing the last of his coffee.
Luke rose from his chair, but he was interrupted by a scratch at the door. As the butler entered, Luke saw that he carried a note on a silver plate.
“Thank you,” Luke murmured, taking it from him and opening it at once. The note was short and to the point. As he read it, Luke felt the blood rush from his face, draining away until he felt both pale and sick at the same time.
“Goodness, cousin, whatever is the matter?” Parke exclaimed, as Luke lowered himself into a seat. “Has something terrible occurred?”
“My father,” Luke replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. “My father has had an accident.”
Parke stared at him for a moment, his eyes widening. “Your father?”
“I must go to him at once,” Luke said, one hand gripping his chair tightly. “I must leave this very morning.”
“Of course, of course,” Parke exclaimed, as Luke got unsteadily to his feet. “What can I do?”
Luke could not think, could not speak. All he could see was the letter in his hand, the news that his father was seriously ill making him unable to think clearly.
“The carriage wheel hit the ditch and tipped over,” he whispered, not answering Parke’s question. “My father was thrown from the carriage. Thank goodness they were near home and that he was able to be carried there. I cannot imagine what…”
Parke got out of his chair and came around to Luke’s side, grasping his arm and looking into his face. “Mallon, I will do whatever I can to help you, but you must tell me what that is,” he said firmly. “When do you plan to leave?”
“Now,” Luke said hoarsely. “I need to leave now. This very morning.”
Parke nodded, a slight frown on his face. “Do they say that he is seriously ill?”
Luke nodded, his fingers tightening on the letter. “His steward wrote this. He begs me to come at once. Father has not awakened since the accident.” He swayed just a little, weakness rushing through him. “I should have gone with him.”
To his credit, Parke shook his head. “Nonsense, Mallon. What good would you have done in going with him? There is no need for you to blame yourself in this situation, for none of this is your doing. It is an accident, that is all. Now, I will ring the bell, and you will order the butler to have a bag packed for you at once.”
Luke stared at Parke, trying to get his bearing. “Yes, yes. Of course.”
Parke left his side and rang the bell before coming back to the table. “And I will ensure that the carriage is adequately prepared for your departure. Do
you have any arrangements that you will need to send your apologies to?”
It was as though his mind was nothing more than swirling fog. Luke could not find an answer to Parke’s question, not sure what it was he was meant to be doing or where he was meant to be going.
“Luke,” Parke said again, using his Christian name so that he might catch Luke’s attention. “Have you made arrangements to go to balls or the like, where I will need to make your apologies?” He walked towards the corner of the room and filled a glass with a small measure of brandy, which he handed to Luke.
“None that matter,” Luke replied with a shake of his head.
Parke handed him the glass, and Luke took a small sip, the liquor coursing through him and chasing away the weakness that had filled him. “No, wait…. There is Lady Elizabeth.”
“Lady Elizabeth?”
Luke nodded, about to answer, only for the butler to appear at the door. He took another fortifying sip before telling the butler exactly what had happened and what was required. The butler, who had been working for the family for a few years, looked equally horrified and stunned to the very core, stumbling over his words as he promised to have everything prepared for Luke within the hour.
Luke thanked him and asked that a footman bring him a piece of parchment, his quill, and ink. He needed to write a letter.
“Parke,” he said, as the parchment was placed before him with a silver tray containing the rest of the required implements set on the table. “I will need you to deliver this to Lady Elizabeth.”
“Lady Elizabeth?”
Realizing that he had not explained who the lady was, Luke nodded. “Lady Elizabeth Bolton, daughter to the Earl of Lewisham,” he explained, quietly. “She is my betrothed.”
Surprise registered in Parke’s eyes, for the engagement was not something that was well known.
“She is waiting for me to call on her this afternoon, and of course, I cannot,” Luke said, writing a brief note that explained everything and begged her forgiveness. He gave her his father’s country address in the hope that she would correspond with him, his heart sinking into his boots as he realized just how much he would miss her.
