by Joyce Alec
Looking her full in the face, Charles found himself able to speak clearly, and without hesitation, "I must apologize once more, Lady Martha. I can be such a ham-fisted fool, especially around beautiful women."
Trying not to be affected by his words, Martha let herself smile a little.
“You are certainly a little ungainly, Lord Green,” she admitted, seeing him flush a little. “Are you always so clumsy?”
He nodded, walking back to his chair and slumping in it.
“Matthew, I mean Lord Hoskins, said that all I need is practice, and I shall soon be much better.” He spread his hands, “As you can tell, it is not working out so well at the moment.”
Martha stopped herself from responding, studying the gentleman sitting in her chair. His face held an ashamed expression, with his whole manner telling her the depths of his despair. Despite her current situation, Martha felt a rush of sympathy. Musing for a moment, she wondered if Lord Green could potentially be her savior. He was clumsy, yes, and she would have to be careful that she didn't end up with bruises everywhere, but he would do. It wasn’t as if she had any other eligible gentleman knocking at her door.
"Do you have an estate of your own, Lord Green?" she asked, wondering if he would fulfill Gerald's requirements of a good match.
Surprised at the sudden change of subject, Charles sat up a little straighter.
“I do, my lady,” he replied. “I have an estate in Suffolk, although I am spending the season in London.”
“How lovely,” Martha said, her hopes rising. “Is your estate profitable?”
“Very,” Charles replied, perplexed by why she was asking such questions, but astonished at how easily he managed to answer her. “My tenants are hard workers, and my steward is extremely adept at handling all estate matters when I am away. However, I do enjoy getting my hands dirty when I am not in London.”
“Indeed,” Martha said, finding it hard to imagine him working the fields with the local men.
Charles smiled at her, amazed at how relaxed he was in her presence. Matthew had described the woman as ‘pretty but not beautiful,’ but in this moment, he had to disagree. Her green eyes and dark hair were a stunning combination, her smile warming him to the very core. But no, he had to remember that this was simply a chance for him to practice his skills of conversing, walking, and dancing with eligible ladies. Whilst Lady Martha was a beautiful woman, he had to remember that she was completely ineligible. She had no dowry and, whilst she had defended herself against the rumors he had heard, he could not discount them all entirely.
“Lady Martha," he began, taking a breath. “I was wondering if I could call on you tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps a stroll around Hyde Park?”
Martha smiled, feeling a spreading warmth flow right to the tips of her fingers. Perhaps Gerald would be proven wrong after all.
“Thank you, Lord Green. I would be delighted.”
“I’m telling you, Matthew, there’s something about that woman.”
Matthew chuckled, his eyes firmly closed as he slouched in a comfortable chair beside the fire. He had returned to find Lady Martha and Lord Green chatting like old friends, despite the stained carpet and the large bruise on Lady Martha's head, and had been too shocked to say more than a simple ‘goodbye’ to Lady Martha. He had been astonished to see Charles kiss the lady's hand as he bid her farewell, even more surprised to find that she had agreed to walk with him the following afternoon. Whatever had come over Charles?
“Perhaps it’s not to do with her, but to do with you,” Matthew suggested lazily, crossing his ankles as he stretched his long legs out.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me that you held her for a moment, and that’s bound to do things to a man.”
“Come now,” Charles scoffed. “I felt nothing for her. I was too mortified to feel anything but disgrace.”
Matthew said nothing, cracking open one eye to look at his friend. Charles was nursing a glass of port and gazing into the flames, obviously thinking about the lady in question.
Charles lied to Matthew saying he felt nothing for her, recalling the way she had laid her head on his shoulder and the feel of her soft brown hair. No, it was more than that. She was the first lady that he could speak to freely, not stumbling over his words like he normally did. Shrugging, Charles sipped his port, reminding himself not to get overly intimate with the lady. Changing the subject, he began to talk to Matthew his own love interest, even though his mind remained firmly fixed on Lady Martha.
“Have you learned that woman’s name yet?”
“What woman?” Matthew replied lazily, not even opening his eyes.
Charles smirked. “Don’t pretend with me, old boy. I know you’re desperate to find out her name.”
“Ah, my woman of mystery,” Matthew replied, grinning. “Whose red curls haunt my every waking moment.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Charles said. “Have you discovered her name yet?”
Matthew sighed, “No.”
Charles grinned at his response. He had not thought Matthew would ever look at a woman twice, but here he was, desperate to know her name. She had obviously made an impact.
5
“Lady Martha, may I say, you look perfectly charming.”
“Thank you, Lord Green,” Martha replied, briefly adjusting her bonnet.
“You’re very welcome,” he replied, taking her proffered hand. “Shall we go?”
Unfortunately, her touch unsettled Charles a little, making him stumble down the stone steps, pulling Martha with him—although, thankfully, neither of them managed to fall.
“I can only…”
"Apologize, yes, I know," Martha replied, hiding a smile. "Lord Green, I am well used to your clumsy ways after our encounter yesterday, so you must simply find a better way of apologizing. Those words are becoming far too familiar.”
Martha’s lilting laughter lightened the mood completely. Charles let out a sigh of relief, tucking her hand under his arm once more and as they began to walk down the street towards Hyde Park. Clearly, he was not as relaxed as he had thought.
“Tell me, Lord Green,” Martha began, as they made their way into the park. “What has been the most embarrassing thing you have done?”
“Oh,” Charles replied, letting out a long breath. “I’m not sure I can tell you, Lady Martha. In truth, there are so many that I’m not sure I can choose the worst.”
Martha chuckled. “Come now, Lord Green, I simply must know. If you cannot choose one, then why not tell me a few?”
Charles thought for a moment, enjoying the stroll through the park as well as the company of Lady Martha.
“Well, I suppose one of the worst ones I can remember, is when I pulled Lady Ellen into the fishpond.”
“Never!” Martha exclaimed, barely able to believe it. “What happened?”
“I was walking beside her, and we stopped to observe the fish swimming in the pond. She took my arm, pointing to one particular fish. Of course, when I leaned over to see what she was pointing at, I lost my balance and we both ended up in the water.”
Martha tried to stop her laughter, but it bubbled up inside her, and she couldn’t help but let it escape. “Oh dear, that is truly awful.”
“Indeed,” Charles replied, a wry look on his face. “Of course, there was another time when I was challenged to pistols at dawn.”
“Oh, my!” Martha exclaimed, all traces of laughter gone. “That sounds a little more serious.”
Charles shrugged. “It was all a misunderstanding. I was at a house party, hosted by Mr. Fulton, and I got utterly lost. I mistook Miss Fulton's room for my own and managed to walk in when she was in a state of undress. In my haste to shield my eyes, I then proceeded to walk straight into the door and knocked myself out."
“My goodness,” Martha replied, feeling the laughter begin to rise in her again. “I assume her father thought you had ill intentions for his daughter?”
"Her screams wer
e heard throughout the house, so I am told," he said, a trace of humor in his voice. "I am quite sure you have heard enough now, Lady Martha. I beg you to spare me from any further humiliation."
“Very well,” Martha replied, attempting to keep her merriment under control.
Hyde Park was fairly quiet, as it was not quite time for the fashionable hour, but Martha was enjoying the peace.
“May I enquire how your head is today?”
“Oh,” Martha said, removing her hand from his arm and turning to face him. “It is not too bad, I assure you.”
She looked into his eyes, seeing the concern that rested there and immediately felt her breath catch. Lord Green was certainly an attractive man and, despite herself, Martha felt something within her respond to him.
“My maid adjusted my hair quite nicely, so I believe it is completely hidden.”
“It is,” Lord Green replied, his eyes roving across her forehead. “May I?”
He lifted two large curls from the side of her head, wincing as he saw the purple bruising.
“Oh my,” he breathed, touching it gently. “I must have a weighty head.”
Martha smiled gently, enjoying the feel of his hand on her skin.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked, with true concern.
“A little,” Martha replied, her voice soft.
“Lady Martha,” Charles began, allowing the curls to drop as they began to walk once more. “I must confess something to you. My friend, Lord Hoskins, encouraged me to develop my acquaintance with you because he thought it might help me in all my interactions with eligible young ladies.”
Martha's heart dropped as she heard Lord Green speak. She had hoped that he could be her potential savior, but from the sounds of things, she was merely a tool in his hands, to be used only as a way for him to improve his skills with the opposite sex.
Charles, seeing the frown on her face, cursed himself for not being able to explain the details with greater clarity.
“What I mean to say is, given my clumsiness, and the fact that most ladies of the ton have grown to dislike me intensely; you seemed to be the only one who would accept my attentions.”
Slightly mollified, Martha’s face cleared, her frown disappearing. She could understand what he meant, given that she too was looked down upon by practically everyone in society.
“Lord Green, I understand what you are saying, for I too am a social pariah in the eyes of the ton—though it’s no fault of my own, as I have told you before. My stepbrother has cruel ways,” she said the last few words quietly, almost to herself.
Charles’s brows rose at Martha’s words. He had not met the current Viscount but had no reason to think he was a callous man. By all accounts, his business was doing well, and he was an excellent overseer of his tenants and estate.
"I apologize," Martha said, her face heating as she realized her slip. “I should not have said such a thing.”
“Think no more of it,” Charles replied. “For once it is you, and not I, that cannot get their words in order.”
A smile spread slowly across Martha’s face as she looked up at him, feeling that tingling warmth that she had begun to associate with Lord Green.
“Lady Martha,” Charles began again, patting her hand as they walked. “What I am trying to say, in the most roundabout way possible, is that I do not wish to treat you as some kind of experiment.” He felt her grip tighten a fraction around his arm before he continued, “I am able to converse with you as I do with Matthew, which is some sort of miracle, I assure you. I greatly enjoy spending time with you, and I could not help but look forward to our walk together.” He stopped for a moment, turning to face her. “Most of all, Lady Martha, I feel like I can be myself when I am with you. You do not mock my ungainly ways, which is something I have not yet found with any other woman of my acquaintance.”
Martha smiled a little sadly, unable to tell whether he was offering more than friendship.
“I thank you for your kind words, Lord Green.”
She did not know what else to say.
Charles patted her hand again, once more beginning to walk around the park. His heart felt light, amazed at how, for the first time, a walk in the park with a lady could be so enjoyable. He did not feel anxious or worried, but perfectly at ease.
“No, Lady Martha,” he said, quietly. “It is I that should be thanking you.”
“Lord Green, is that you?” Closing his eyes briefly in frustration, Charles turned to see Matthew stride toward them, a grin on his face. He was evidently fully aware that he had interrupted their reverie but did not care in the slightest.
“Why, Lord Hoskins, how nice to see you again,” Martha said, curtsying to him.
“And you, Lady Martha,” Matthew replied, giving her a jaunty bow.
“What are you doing out here?” Charles asked, piercing Matthew with his stare.
Matthew shrugged. “Not much. I just decided to get a few breaths of fresh air.”
"Ah ha!" Charles grinned, realizing Matthew's true intention. "You're trying to catch a glimpse of your mystery woman.”
Matthew huffed for a moment, responding with a weak, “I most certainly am not.” Although, he could not quite look Charles in the face.
“Who is this mystery lady?” Martha asked, looking from Charles to Matthew and back again.
“We do not know,” Charles said with a smile. “All Matthew will tell me is that she has a mass of red curls and the most beautiful smile. Apart from that, we are at a loss.”
“Oh!” Martha exclaimed. “Perhaps it may be Lady Suzanne.”
She saw Lord Hoskins’s eyes spark with interest.
“Does she have long auburn curls?”
Martha nodded. “Truth be told, I have always been jealous of her ringlets. She is one of my dearest friends, although we have not seen each other as of late.”
A wave of sadness hit her as she spoke, remembering how Suzanne had only been able to wave at her from across the ballroom.
Lord Hoskins boomed, a grin spreading across his face as he said, “I have a plan. Let us meet here again tomorrow, perhaps during the fashionable hour? Is she likely to be here, Lady Martha?”
Martha nodded.
“She is? Excellent! If it is the lady in question, then you can make the introductions? Shall we say three o’clock?”
Lord Hoskins bowed once more before swiftly taking his leave, muttering something about getting his boots polished.
“I am sorry about that,” Charles replied, laughing a little. “The man is clearly besotted; although, he will not admit it.”
Martha, her deep green eyes sparkling with amusement, smiled up at Charles, and at that moment, he once again thought about how beautiful Lady Martha was when there was joy in her expression. Instead of the terror that usually flooded him whenever he was in a beautiful woman’s presence, he felt confident, an unknown emotion filling him as he smiled back at her.
“Lady Martha,” he breathed, the quietness of the park making him feel as though it was just the two of them at that moment. “You are breathtaking.”
Martha, blinking furiously, absorbed his words with a little start of surprise. “I...I thank you,” she responded, her own voice quiet.
She could not remember the last time someone had complimented her in such a way.
Charles allowed his gaze to drop to Lady Martha’s lips, wishing he could run a finger over them. They looked so soft. His breath began to come a little faster as he took a small step nearer to her, standing so close that he could kiss her quite easily, should he want to. Did he want to? He wasn’t sure. Unlike so many of his peers, he had not once kissed a lady, having never had the opportunity. A warning flashed in his mind, realizing that should he kiss her, there would be an expectation that he would then court her. Was he ready for such a thing?
Martha felt the loss the moment he stepped back, breaking the atmosphere like a stone on a frozen lake. She had wondered if he was about to kiss her, as she wou
ld have welcomed it, only for him to move away, reaching for her hand to tuck it under his arm once more. They walked in silence back to Martha’s townhouse, each struggling with their own thoughts.
Charles bent over Lady Martha’s hand, kissing the back of her hand with gentle lips, lingering a moment too long—not over any awkwardness but rather from desire. Martha smiled at him as he stood, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Until tomorrow, Lady Martha,” Charles said, still holding her hand.
“Until tomorrow, Lord Green,” she replied, watching him take his leave. She did not see Gerald’s face at the window, scowling deeply as he too watched Lord Green walk down the street.
6
Gerald glowered, his temper rising. He had not, for one moment, thought that Martha would be successful, assuming that his plentiful rumors would have dissuaded any respectable gentlemen. However, it now appeared that she had one potential suitor, and that was one too many. Gerald was determined to possess Martha’s parcel of land. He would simply have to work a little harder to ensure that whoever this man was, he would not pursue his stepsister any longer.
Martha sat on her bed after ensuring the door to her room was securely locked. This was the one room in the house where Gerald could not get to her, and having put up with his snide and lurid remarks during dinner, she needed a place to escape him. Martha realized that he now knew about Lord Green, although she hoped that he had not yet discovered his name.
She thought of Lord Green for a moment, remembering how his brown eyes had gazed, so deeply, into her own, and how he had pulled himself closer to her as they had stood, just the two of them, in the park. Her hopes had risen as she realized he felt an attraction to her, the same way she was beginning to feel drawn to him—despite his ungainliness. The man was a kindred spirit, mocked and ridiculed by society, just as she was.
Two social outcasts, that's what they were, who, somehow, had found their way to each other. Whether she could ever love him was another matter, but that was not a concern for the moment. He was a kind man, open and honest, and she knew that he would make a good husband. She did not want to scare him away, but perhaps she needed to tell him the truth and hope he would understand. She needed to tell him about Gerald’s threats and have faith that, even if there was no immediate proposal, that he would somehow be able to protect her from Gerald’s cruel intentions. Nodding to herself, she prepared herself for bed with a fresh hope in her heart.
