A Courtship to Remember: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  “Indeed.” A mischievous gleam entered her eyes. “Perhaps we should give them quite a show?”

  He touched his chest. “A woman after my own heart. We might as well get married right away.”

  She laughed, attracting even more attention. Anthony simply stared at her, mesmerised. She has a beautiful laugh. I love the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, and how her nose slightly flares. She stopped when she noticed he had not joined in her laugh. He watched as her smooth brow creased.

  "Whatever is the matter, Anthony? You are staring at me in a most peculiar manner."

  “I was just admiring your laugh. It has a note of sunshine in it. If I could bottle it and release it during gloomy days, I would.”

  She smiled. “That sounded almost poetic. Do you write poetry?”

  “Heavens, no. I am hopeless at it. However, Felton has a way with words that always seems to melt the hearts of women, young and old alike.”

  They both looked over at Felton, who was in the midst of several ladies. Their attention was fixated on him and whatever he was saying.

  “Hmm, I see what you mean. He must be a popular man, handsome as well. Why has some lucky lady not snatched him up before now?”

  Anthony found that he did not like the sound of that at all. He narrowed his eyes, suddenly wishing that his friend was not so popular with the ladies.

  “If I did not know any better, I would think that you had a tendre for him.”

  Elizabeth frowned at him, her eyes searching him. Perhaps I sounded jealous? “Do you jest with me, Anthony? I? Have a tendre for Felton? He is handsome, but you are far more my type.”

  Anthony could not stop the grin that stretched his lips. Hearing her words warmed his heart. “Truly? And what type would I be?”

  She must have realised what she said because she instantly coloured. The rosy hue was most becoming on her, accentuating her youthful appearance.

  “Oh, I did not quite mean it like that. I merely meant that I would find you far more interesting were I indeed looking for a suitable husband.”

  That only made him happier. Her blush increased, making her cover her cheeks with her slender hands.

  “I am making a mess of this, am I not? I did not mean to imply that I have a tendre for you.”

  He placed a hand on her arm, intending to ease her worries, but instead, he felt that same jolt run through his body as he had at the opera. It was as though he had pins and needles being stuck into his skin. But it was pleasant, if not oddly terrifying. He quickly drew his hand away as if burnt, even going so far as to look at his hand to see any burn marks. Elizabeth looked at him wide-eyed, her breathing as unsteady as his. Their eye contact was broken when someone accidentally spilt something on her dress.

  “Oh, goodness me! How clumsy I am!”

  Anthony looked up to see Catherine standing over them, empty sherry glass in her hand. He spied a glimmer of hostility in her eyes before she masked it with a look of apology.

  “Oh, I do hope that I have not ruined your dress,” she continued. “It is a charming dress, is it not? You are not angry with me, are you Miss Ramsbury?”

  He watched as Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Catherine. “No, not at all. It is only a little spill, hardly anything to make a great fuss about. I am not one for hysterics, fashion, or keeping up with appearances. It all bores me quite terribly.”

  Bravo, Elizabeth! Anthony could have laughed, but he held it in. Catherine's face took on several red splotches, her eyebrows nearly disappearing into her hairline.

  “Well, if you are certain that you are fine.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Quite.”

  Catherine gave a tight smile before she turned on her heel and returned to her group.

  “That was very well handled, Elizabeth. I applaud you.”

  She laughed. “Thank you. I believed that a taste of her own medicine was in order. She spilt her sherry on my dress on purpose, likely to try and stop us from having our little tête-à-tête. Perhaps she feels that if Diana is not with you, then she should have you, or at least one from their group. Being seen on your arm must be quite a matter to swallow.”

  “I would much rather be here with you then sit a second with them.”

  “Why do you associate yourself with them if they are not to your liking?”

  That was a good question, one that had an answer although it was not the best of answers.

  "That is what we do, associate ourselves with people we do not particularly like because they are a part of our social class. In some way, our lives are intertwined for better or for worse. However, it might be time for me to take a step back. It cannot be healthy to surround oneself with such people."

  "My sentiments exactly. It is far better to be with like-minded people such as your friend, Felton."

  There she went about Felton again. Anthony was not happy that his friend's name fell from her lips so easily. Oddly enough, he had never felt this way when Diana spoke of him. Likely because she always spoke of him with great disdain. Elizabeth only had praise for Felton, praise that he strongly felt should be directed at him alone.

  “You must count yourself as my like-minded person as we are quite similar in many respects. It is why I enjoy speaking with you.”

  "And I you. It is refreshing to speak with someone who does not live for gossip, parties, scandals, and the such. The only major differences are our gender and your intention of matrimony with D –"

  “With you,” he interrupted and inclined his head.

  He watched her follow the direction he pointed at, grimacing when she realised what she had been about to do. She scooted closer to him until their heads touched. It may have been of a necessity for her, but it was a heady moment for him. Her fresh floral scent surrounded him, filling his nose to the point where he felt quite lightheaded. Elizabeth did not seem to notice as she spoke to him.

  "I do apologise," she whispered. "I did not think when I said that."

  He merely made a sound, indicating that he was listening. Anthony was too caught up in the smell of her.

  “I shall strive to do better next time,” she promised.

  “Yes,” he finally managed to get out. “We all make mistakes, do not concern yourself.”

  She laid her hand on him, her eyes earnest and sincere. “But it is a great concern for we both have high stakes in this. It must go well for both our sakes.”

  Anthony could see that she was indeed bothered by her little slip of the tongue. Brushing it off would not give her relief.

  “I agree, but we shall hold each other accountable – that should be enough to keep us on the right path.”

  “Yes, we are a team.”

  "A formidable one at that," he laughed. "Catherine will not approach you so quickly the next time, but there is a high probability that she is building up ammunition."

  "I truly am not concerned about her. Soon enough things will return to normal, and I shall never have to see her again."

  Not only would Elizabeth never have to see Catherine and her group of gossipers again, but that included him, too. Anthony was not sure as to how he felt about that. He enjoyed being around Elizabeth, but once he 'rejects' her for Diana, he was certain he would not be permitted to see her again. As the night wore on, Anthony found himself discussing all manner of subjects with Elizabeth. They were openly flirtatious, but he did not know if it was for show or due to the easy-going relationship between them. Whatever it was, he was enjoying it immensely. Anthony's attention was solely on Elizabeth, and when she was speaking with her sister or Felton, he studied her.

  She has a strong character but a kind heart, too kind at times. It is refreshing to be able to talk to a woman who is not trying to entrap me in some way. Elizabeth gives me her honest opinion without the need to sweeten it, which I appreciate. She is young, far younger than I am, but her soul is that of a much older woman. I see why some men would be intimidated by her.

  Most of the guests at the dinner party rec
eived her favourably, with only Catherine and her group of friends being less than kind to her. Elizabeth seemed to be able to charm everyone, so much so that he wished to remove her from the crowds and keep her to himself.

  She makes me want to forget that this is all a sham. In fact, I have found myself forgetting that we are in the midst of an elaborate plan to achieve our goals. I have not had to run after her, appease her with gifts, or watch my words.

  With Diana, it was constant drama. It did not matter what event they attended, there was always a note of terrifying unpredictability. Diana was able to manipulate him and twist him about her finger quite easily. She had seemed to find it amusing to ignite his temper by flirting with other men, making him insecure about her feelings for him, and yet he still stood by her side.

  But for Diana to have done what she did to him, did that not indicate that she had not behaved like a woman in love? Here was a woman before him who was opposite Diana in every way, who appeared to understand him quite well, and did not act foolishly.

  What if I were to truly court her? To make it official between us both? Would she consent to it? Anthony did not know. What he did know was that he was treading on dangerous ground by having these thoughts. Diana could well be on her way, and I am entertaining thoughts of being with another woman. The peculiar thing was that he did not feel terrible about it, not at all.

  *

  Elizabeth was not one for social gatherings, but she had to admit that she was enjoying herself. Anthony was wonderfully attentive, letting her speak her mind without the need to mind her words and opinions. Indeed, he seemed to encourage her views, which was a novel experience for her. Elizabeth could not have asked for a better dinner partner. They had all just about concluded the nine-course meal, which had included a symphony of flavours she was not accustomed to.

  “This was all rather delicious, but I could not recognise some of the flavours used.”

  “Felton's cook likes to experiment and will often go foraging for new flavours,” Anthony replied. “This meal has gone well, but I have been present where things had not precisely been as acceptable to the English palate as, say, a tribe in some far off country. Felton humours him, letting him free reign in the kitchen.”

  “That sounds... exciting, for lack of a better word. I do not know how I would feel being presented with a meal that I was not entirely certain about. I do not know about you, but I enjoy meals that I can recognise. However, I seem to be contradicting myself because I have just enjoyed this meal and I did not recognise everything on my plate.”

  Anthony laughed. “Robinson will make a convert of you yet.”

  “Robinson?”

  “Felton's cook. George Robinson. He worked as a cook on the ships for years before settling in London.”

  “Oh, that explains his knowledge of food. He likely learnt about different foods and their preparations from his travels.”

  “I suppose so. I can recall Felton telling me that Robinson has been to areas such as the Caribbean, North Africa, and the Orient.”

  The bold part of her yearned for such travels. Elizabeth had never before voiced her secret love of exotic lands, knowing that she would never be able to travel further than Europe. However, it felt natural to tell Anthony about it.

  "I have read books about faraway lands and often dreamt of sailing away on a ship to some place exotic. But I suppose that well-bred English women do not do that sort of thing."

  "Not usually, but there are exceptions. You are an extraordinary woman, I would not put it past you to suddenly jump on a ship and do so. But I would wear a disguise of some sort – you are far too beautiful not to be noticed by the natives. There are pirates that sail our seas who would love to kidnap you and sell you to a wealthy, ageing sultan."

  That sounded horrifying. “Kidnap? You jest!”

  He shook his head. “Not in the least. It does happen, more often than anyone would care to think. Human trafficking and slavery is a large and profitable business for those with the stomach for it.”

  Elizabeth could not imagine such a thing. Living in the country had shielded her from much of the world, it seemed. “Perhaps I should reconsider my dream of sailing on the seven seas and seeing new lands. I would not enjoy being kidnapped.”

  He laughed. “No, certainly not. Best you stay in Europe and become the world's greatest composer of our time.”

  She smiled. For a moment, she was not the woman who wanted to pursue a life of music. Not because her passion had died, but because Anthony continued to show her that there was more to life than taking one lone path. It was so easy to forget that this was all a ruse until one of them brought up the very reason they had partaken in such a plan. Their lie was becoming too real, and it unsettled her.

  Felton interrupted the light dinner table chatter when he stood up and gained their attention. “Are we ready to retire to the drawing room once more?” he asked. “My good friend – Lord Cavendish – has organised some entertainment for us this evening. If you would follow me.”

  As they all stood up, she turned to Anthony, wondering at the entertainment. “You did not say that you had organised the entertainment for the dinner party? What is it?”

  “It is a surprise. I have the strongest notion that you will appreciate it immensely.” He took her hand, placing it on his arm and moved towards the doorway.

  “You are being rather mysterious, Anthony.”

  “Mystery is the spice of life, do you not agree? It keeps things interesting.”

  She did not say anything else after that, eager to get to the drawing room. As they entered the room, she noticed a few young men with various instruments before them.

  “Please, be seated,” Felton requested. “I shall allow Lord Cavendish to introduce our musicians.”

  Anthony waited for her to be seated, finding a chair close to the front. He then left her, Felton taking his place beside her.

  “I am proud to present this talented group of musicians from our very own streets of London,” Anthony began.

  "They are all underprivileged young men," Felton whispered to her. "Anthony has taken them under his wing and become their patron. They earn a living and explore their musical talents at the same time."

  This news surprised Elizabeth. It really should not have done for he was a kind man. But there truly was no end to his generosity. It baffled her that a titled man could be so giving of his time and money. Anthony continued to fill the requirements of her ideal man, starting with his charming personality and good looks.

  “They will be performing a concerto for us all, so I ask that you sit back and enjoy it.”

  People lightly applauded as he came to sit on the other side of her.

  She leaned in closer to him. “That is a wonderful thing that you have done for these young men, Anthony. Simply wonderful.”

  “It was the least that I could do to help the young men of our country. Too many of them are being forced into workhouses where conditions are terrible or being sent off to fight the wars of rich men. If I can make a difference in at least a few of their lives, then I shall do so.”

  Elizabeth was moved by the great feeling with which he delivered his answer. He clearly felt strongly about what he was doing and that only made her care for him more. She laid a hand on his arm.

  “You are a wonderful man, Anthony.”

  He covered her hand with his own as he smiled and looked at her. “Any person with a heart would have done what I did. Now, let us listen to them, I believe that you will enjoy this concerto.”

  He did not remove his hand as they both settled into their chairs to watch the musicians. She ignored the tingly feeling that the touching of their skin was producing. The feeling was no longer such a shock, but more of a comfort. Elizabeth found that she enjoyed having his hand on hers, perhaps too much. The music began, a dramatic start that captured everyone's attention.

  How beautifully they play. She was glad that Anthony had saved them from an otherwi
se hard life. She turned to look at him, noting the tender and proud expression on his face. He had brought the beauty of fine music to all who heard them play.

  “They play beautifully,” she whispered to Anthony.

  “Yes, they do. They work hard.”

  She smiled and squeezed his arm. “It is all due to you.”

  He looked down at their hands and then back at her. The look he gave her sent shivers down her spine. When he squeezed her hand, she realised that she may have acted too forward by putting her hand on his arm and let it rest there for so long. Going so far as to squeeze him would have earned her a scolding from her father. However, it was such a natural thing for her to do that she had not given it a second thought. She coloured and removed her hand, linking it with her other hand and placing it on her lap. He frowned at her, a small smile about his lips. She smiled back, trying to assure him that all was well before turning to watch the musicians once more.