A Courtship to Remember: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “I think that I should return – my sister must be wondering where I am.”

  “If you would wait just a moment.”

  “My lord?”

  “I have a plan brewing in my head, but I am not certain as to how you will take it.”

  “If you do not speak of it, then I cannot say how I shall take it.”

  “Very well. Do you promise to keep an open mind?”

  “I am listening, my lord.”

  “I shall court you.”

  Elizabeth took a step back in surprise. He would do what?

  *

  Anthony knew that she was alarmed when she took that step back. Perhaps he should not have said anything.

  “My lord? I do not understand. You were confessing love for Miss Lambert merely a few moments ago, and now you wish to court me? Forgive me, but you do not sound as though you have thought this through.”

  He was making a botch up of it all, and he had only spoken a few words. The wrong words. He could have worded it differently. He tried again.

  “Allow me to try again, please?”

  She looked at him sceptically. "Will you be saying more of the same thing?"

  She had moved into greater light, showing the amber eyes that he remembered so well. She was really quite beautiful. Pretending would not be such a hardship.

  “It is not what you think, I shall only pretend to court you.”

  “Whatever for, my lord? Forgive me, but I am thoroughly confused.”

  “All right, let me start again and try not to have you run away from me in horror.”

  She giggled. “I do not think that I would run away. A fast walk, perhaps, but not a run. I daresay that you could catch me either way – you appear to be in fine health.”

  He watched as her cheeks coloured slightly. That only made her prettier to him.

  “In fine health, you say?”

  “Do not think much on it.”

  He laughed. "Very well. Let me dispense with the suspense and reveal my plan to you. I do believe that it will benefit both of us."

  She nodded her head, pushing him to continue.

  “You are in need of a suitor to court you, and I wish for my love to return to me. Correct?”

  “Yes, but what does your plan have to do with our situations? They are miles apart and require different solutions.”

  “Not as you may think. If I pretend to court you, your parents will allow your sister to marry her sweetheart.”

  “I see where you are going with this, but what of you? How will this aid you in your situation?”

  “It is simple, really. Diana is a jealous woman. When she hears that I am courting you, she will return to me and keep the vulture-like women of this season firmly away from me.”

  She appeared to think on it a moment, her lips slightly pouted. Pretending to court her would not a hardship at all.

  “And when should this courtship end? How will it end?”

  “Once your sister is safely married, I shall reject you in favour of Diana. By that time she will be burning with envy of you and much jealousy. I expect that she will not object when I ask for her hand in marriage the second time around.”

  “This sounds like quite an elaborate plan. What if Miss Lambert does not fall for it? Or my family for that matter. My father is not one easily fooled.”

  “I know Diana well. Her jealous nature always wants what she cannot have, and as I shall be with you, she will want me back. For your family, we must keep a facade of being in love. Do you think that you could do that?”

  “You hardly know me, my lord. How will you pretend to be in love with me? Will there not be some suspicion?”

  He was Anthony Cavendish, the Baron of Bedford. No one would question him. The only people he had ever allowed to come against him were Felton and Diana. To everyone else, he was untouchable. However, he did not say all this to her.

  "It will not be such a burden to pretend to court you. You are beautiful, intelligent and wonderfully frank. I have thoroughly enjoyed our time spent together. It is not often that I get to have such an interesting conversation with the opposite gender."

  Not even with Diana. Their conversations had always been centred upon her, and he had been only too willing to let it be. Now, he saw things differently. Once Diana and he were together again, that would have to change. There had to be more to a relationship, it could not be one-sided.

  “I do not know...”

  The more he thought about his plan, the more he believed that it would work. However, it would only work with her because she was not truly looking for a suitor. Once he publicly rejected her, there would be no hard feelings. He could not have her doubt this plan. She must agree to it.

  "Think on it. You will be free to pursue your passion for music with your sister married to her sweetheart and I shall win back my love. Say that you will do it – there can only be positive outcomes to this plan."

  “You hardly know my name, my lord. You are proposing a plan with a stranger.”

  He reached out and took her gloved hand, surprising her.

  “My lord, what is it that you are doing?”

  "Making an introduction. I am Anthony Cavendish, Baron of Bedford. I am pleased to make your acquaintance." He kissed her hand. "May I know of your name, beautiful lady?"

  “Elizabeth Ramsbury, my lord. First daughter of Miles and Edith Ramsbury.”

  He held onto her hand, not letting it go until he heard her agree with him.

  “Do you agree to partake of this plan, Miss Ramsbury?”

  She took in a deep breath. “Yes, my lord.”

  "Splendid! In that case, you may call me Anthony, and I shall call you Elizabeth. Well, in some settings. Do you agree?"

  “I might as well.”

  “Wonderful! I believe that we will both have what we wish for.”

  Anthony was looking forward to having Diana back in his arms again.

  *

  What had she just agreed to? Anthony still held onto her hand, his smile wide and friendly. He seemed so confident of his plan, but Elizabeth could not help but feel that something may go wrong. Besides, she did not feel comfortable fooling so many people. But if she were to fulfil her word to Cecilia, then she must do it. She cleared her throat, pulling her hand away. It was feeling a bit too comfortable in his gentle but firm grip.

  “Shall we return to the ballroom?”

  “Yes,” he said. “We might as well begin now while the night is still fresh. People will soon enough see that there is something between us, and when we announce our courtship, no one will question us.”

  She sincerely hoped that he was right. She would hate to think of the repercussions of his plan backfiring in our faces. He placed her hand on his arm and led her back into the ballroom, squeezing her slightly when inquisitive eyes turned to look at them. They walked to the middle of the dancefloor where he bowed before her.

  “Elizabeth, may I have this dance?”

  So soon? She could not exactly deny him when so many people were watching. She curtsied. “Of course, my lord.”

  As they danced, Elizabeth felt herself begin to loosen up. Perhaps it would not be as bad as she thought it may. Anthony seemed quite sure of his plan, and if all went well, then she would have what she wanted. She laughed when he twirled her before partners were changed and she was in the hands of another gentleman. She was twirled again, ending back in Anthony's arms. She had not expected to enjoy herself this night, but here she was, laughing and smiling. What a strange turn of events.

  *

  The music slowed, permitting partners to come several inches closer to one another as they danced the waltz. This was a dance that he had enjoyed with Diana, as it had allowed him to gaze at her beautiful face. Instead, he found himself looking down into another beautiful face. Anthony had never looked at another woman while he had been with Diana, had never needed to. She had been everything he ever wanted. However, here he was, his gaze focused on the woman in his ar
ms. Elizabeth was looking elsewhere, focusing her attention on the dancers around them. For some reason, he wished for her to look at him.

  “Elizabeth, you are a wonderful dancer. I expect that your mother would have taught you?”

  She looked at him, smiling. "Yes, but I am not as accomplished as my sister. I have been known to make a blunder here and there. But you make dancing seem so effortless."

  “Do not sell yourself short, dancing is a two-fold activity. You are obviously better than you give yourself credit for.”

  “You are too kind, my lord.”

  She looked away again, focusing her gaze on the musicians. Anthony could see why many were so disapproving of the waltz. It had a sense of intimacy to it that some found uncomfortable and immoral. He was highly aware of the woman in his arms, felt the strength and gracefulness of her movements. Elizabeth, he noticed, not only listened to the music to dance but seemed to take it into her soul. He saw her close her eyes, face peaceful as she took in the melody. He had even felt her fingers tap against his shoulder, likely remembering the notes of the tune. She was a rare one. Perhaps his life would have been far easier had he fallen in love with a woman like her instead of Diana. She looked at him then, their eyes locking. They continued to dance, but the music suddenly seemed far away, as though they were dancing in another place.

  “You paint an enchanting picture, Elizabeth.”

  “How so, my lord?”

  “The pink of your dress perfectly matches the blush on your cheeks.”

  “I am slightly flushed. It is hot in this ballroom.”

  "And your hair reminds me of rich autumn, when the leaves turn colour."

  “I believe that you mean to say auburn, my lord. That is the colour of my hair.”

  He smiled. She was evading every compliment.

  “Your eyes are wonderfully expressive and a colour that I have rarely seen. Brown, yes, even cognac, but not many ambers.”

  “You are not looking hard enough, my lord.”

  He chuckled. “You are a difficult woman to compliment.”

  She frowned. “Is that what you were doing?”

  “Is it not obvious?”

  She shrugged. “Perhaps I am not accustomed to it. I am not one to be in the company of others unless I have to.”

  “Well, allow me to tell you that you are easily the most beautiful woman in this room. You are the envy of the season.”

  “If people envy me, it is not because of my appearance, but because the Baron of Bedford is dancing with me. Women have not stopped staring at you.”

  He had noticed it himself. That was why he was thankful to be in Elizabeth's arms as opposed to being a sitting duck for an attack.

  “You have noticed the women, but I have noticed the men staring at you. You would have been a success had you given them a chance.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, thank goodness that you are here. I could not have stood a moment longer in their presence. Oh, there is my sister.”

  Anthony saw a woman waving at them, coming their way. Disappointment filled him as he realised that he would soon have to stop dancing with her. As her sister approached, Elizabeth stepped away from him. He immediately felt the loss of their proximity, slightly disliking the sister for it.

  "Oh, Elizabeth!" the sister exclaimed. "I have been searching everywhere for you."

  As she spoke, the sister kept on casting looks at him. Anthony took the initiative to introduce himself, but he had a feeling that she knew who he was.

  “Miss Cecilia, it is a pleasure to meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you.”

  She raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth before looking at him again. “She has? All good things I hope, my lord?”

  “Of course. I understand that congratulations are in order?”

  That brought a quick smile to her face. “Thank you, my lord. I hope to be married soon. That is, if all things go to plan.”

  She gave a meaningful look to Elizabeth, who only nodded.

  “Do not concern yourself with that, right now. All will be well, I assure you.”

  Cecilia turned to him. “My lord, would you like to join us?”

  “Of course. Please, lead the way.”

  He followed them through the many bodies, sighing in relief when they came to a spot that had breathing space. A young woman looked up, her face slightly pale and splotchy. Her eyes widened with recognition. She quickly stood up and curtsied.

  “My lord.”

  He nodded his head slightly. “Good evening. Forgive me, but I am at a disadvantage for I do not know your name.”

  “Megan Hawkins, my lord.”

  With the greetings set aside, Anthony found himself a part of a drama that the woman was experiencing. Apparently, she had set her eyes on a gentleman who had just rejected her. Having felt the sting of rejection first-hand, he could sympathise with her.

  “Clearly the man is not the right one for you. I am sure that there is one who is deserving of your love right here in this ballroom. You need only look for him.”

  Megan sniffed. “I suppose so.”

  “Cheer up, Megan,” Cecilia added. “We still have a few hours before this night is done, not to mention several weeks of season.”

  The teary woman nodded, giving a tremulous smile.

  Anthony looked at Elizabeth, noting her raised eyebrows and small smile. He frowned, bringing his head closer to hers. “And what, may I ask, is that look for?”

  “Well, my lord, I commend you for wanting to comfort Megan. But you are hardly in position for offering advice.”

  “Why not?”

  She came a bit closer, whispering in his ear. Her warm breath upon his ear was an unsettling feeling. He could not tell whether it was good or bad.

  "You have recently hatched a plan to get back the very woman that both rejected and humiliated you and yet you speak of having her look for a man who deserves her. Perhaps you should follow your own advice."

  He drew away, pursing his lips. “Our situation is hardly similar.”

  She laughed outright, startling their companions.

  “Elizabeth, why on earth are you laughing in such a manner? This is hardly the time to be gay when Megan is suffering so.”

  “Oh, I do apologise. Lord Cavendish is to blame – he was the one to make me laugh.”

  Both women looked at him accusingly. To his side, he could sense that Elizabeth was silently laughing, having thrown him to the wolves.

  “Lord Cavendish,” Cecilia said. “I hardly think that this is the time to be making jokes. Poor Megan bears a broken heart.”

  He grimaced when Megan started to cry, her tears falling down her face to mingle with the liquid from her nose. Helpless, he looked at Elizabeth who had just masked a smiled.

  “Help me,” he mouthed.

  She rolled her eyes but nodded. Elizabeth stretched across him to pat Megan's hand. “Do not be so emotional, Megan. Would you want your rival to see you in such a state?”

  “My rival?”

  “Yes, the woman who has taken the object of your affections.”

  “Oh,” Megan replied. “I would hate for Cathryn to see me. Do you believe that she can?” The woman seemed quite distraught as she wiped her tears away.

  “Luckily for you, no. But she could have. What do you think that she would have seen?”

  “My crying?”

  “Not just your crying, but a pathetic loser.”

  Everyone sucked in their breath at that. Even him.

  “Miss Ramsbury,” he said. “Do you not think that you are being a bit too harsh?”

  She shook her head. "No, I do not. Megan is a wonderful woman, one who has much to offer. She has no need to cry over a man who picked another woman above her." Elizabeth pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. "Here, take this and dry your face. There will be no more cries from you, do you hear?"

  Megan nodded, eyes wide. She blew into his handkerchief and then proceeded to hand i
t back to him. He grimaced, imagining just what was inside the material.

  “Keep it, Miss Hawkins. I have plenty more at home.”

  “Oh, thank you, my lord.”

  The change in the young woman was remarkable. She was no longer the teary-eyed victim, but a woman on the prowl. He leaned into Elizabeth. “I think that you may have created a monster. She seems intent on conquering this ball. Have you seen the look in her eyes?”