“I love the Christmas ball,” Julia spoke suddenly, breaking the uneasy silence of the carriage. She reached over and took Christine’s gloved hand in hers. “You will see, Christine. The earl’s home is absolutely breathtaking, but when evergreen boughs decorate the ballroom, with gold and silver ribbons everywhere, it is magical.”
Their father snorted before Christine could respond to such an obvious effort to cheer her. “Nonsense. Annesbury spends a fortune on these events. I suppose it is worth it, given the number of important people who attend.”
“I understand the earl’s brother will be here this evening, though his betrothed will not be able to make the celebration. Such a shame. I met her in Bath, when I visited Cousin Virginia.”
“Before your attempt at a season,” their father muttered, staring out the window. “What I truly find a shame is the Earl’s inability to move beyond the loss of his wife. I have heard he enjoys horses. You could have had a chance with him, Christine.” He shook his head.
Christine repressed a sigh and exchanged a frustrated glance with Julia. “Indeed. He would be a magnificent catch.” It was usually easier to agree with him and move on. Christine had enough experience with such conversations.
Devon made a sound of agreement, then turned from the window to fix Christine with a hard stare. “I am suddenly reminded, Christine, that I need to express my disapproval of you speaking with Mr. Gilbert this evening. I would prefer you to keep your distance from him.”
Taken aback, Christine tightened her hold on Julia’s hand. How could her father know to make such an edict?
“I am certain you need not worry about that, Father,” Christine said hastily, grateful the shadows in the carriage concealed her blush.
“I meant to speak to you sooner, but I have been busy with an important business arrangement.” He leaned forward, his eyes and expression hard. “You should not have acted without my consent, giving him access to your horses. The man is an upstart and believed such an action gave him the right to request permission to court you.”
Julia gasped and Christine’s heart lifted for an instant, then plummeted downward swiftly.
“The Gilberts have been our neighbors for generations,” Julia spoke quickly, her voice shaky. “You cannot call him an upstart.”
“His father has completely mismanaged their estate and now the boy harbors some ridiculous notion of beginning a horse farm. But with what capital? He has nothing to recommend him except his ability to negotiate with young women.” He shook his head dismissively. “Keep away from him, Christine. We leave for London tomorrow and I do not want him getting any ideas in his head about you.”
Christine gaped at her father, disbelieving the situation. Thomas had gone to her father, the most close-minded man in the county, and requested permission to court her. Thomas did have feelings for her. How deep did they go?
And how could she discover them?
The carriage halted again, but this time the door was opened by a liveried footman who assisted the ladies from the carriage before their father descended the step to the ground. He did not wait for them but went for the steps immediately.
Julia took Christine’s arm and leaned in close, whispering. “I sent a note to Thomas. I asked him to rescue you,” she admitted.
Christine’s breath hitched. “You did what?”
“I did not think he acted on it. He must’ve gone to Father.” Julia shook her head and chewed her lower lip.
Christine’s poor heart fell again, cracked this time. “Then he only acted because of your note.”
Julia shook her head, her breath creating a fog before them in the winter air. “He would not have asked unless he meant to have you as a wife, Christine. I am convinced he loves you. I can see how you feel for him and he would be an idiot not to return your regard. We must find him at once.”
Christine pulled away from her sister as they entered the house, shaking her head in denial. “I cannot,” she whispered. “I won’t.” She hurried away from Julia, forgoing a visit to the lady’s withdrawing room. What did she care if a curl remained out of place or a wrinkle appeared in her skirts? It did not matter whether or not she impressed anyone tonight.
How could Julia do such a thing? Why would she send a note, obliging Thomas to answer with an offer of courtship? And her father must have humiliated him, given his words in the carriage. Christine hurt to think of Thomas being subjected to such abuse. Thomas, a man of honor and compassion, could never hope to be treated with respect when all her father valued was a large wallet and long titles.
“Ah, Miss Christine Devon, isn’t it?” The deep voice startled her out of her thoughts and she looked up, finding herself at the edge of the ballroom, standing before the tall, handsome Earl of Annesbury, Lord Calvert.
She dropped a hasty curtsy. “My lord. Thank you for inviting me.” When she raised her eyes to his, the intensity in his gaze startled her.
“You are most welcome.” He gestured to the floor where couples were already dancing. “Might I have a dance with you, Miss Christine?”
Her mind went blank of every lesson Thomas had given her and she could not fathom why the most powerful man in their county would suddenly show such a pointed interest in her. “Yes. I would be honored. My first two are spoken for, but after that—”
He nodded sharply. “Splendid. I will return for you shortly.” He offered a bow and strode away, disappearing into the crowd. She watched as a few ladies with fans watched him go, only to turn and take her in, standing there stupidly staring after Lord Calvert.
Fans snapped up to cover faces, and the sounds of murmured words and whispers reached her ears, causing warmth to creep up her neck and into her cheeks. She turned away from the stares, wondering why anyone would wish to be the subject of such talk.
Is this what London will be like?
Why would Lord Calvert single her out? They had only been introduced years ago, when she was still in the schoolroom, and seen each other in passing. Christine did not understand. Everyone knew he yet mourned his wife and he had not sought the company of any young ladies for years. She was not so vain as to think one look at her could change his mind about courtship. Could this only be the mark of his famous eccentricity? Perhaps he always spoke to people with such abruptness.
“Ah, Miss Christine you have arrived at last.” Captain Markham appeared beside her, his elder brother just behind him.
“I have come to claim my dance,” Mr. Markham said, extending his hand to her.
Christine forced her mind to stop spinning and turned her full attention to her dancing partner. “Yes. Thank you. Shall we?”
Recalling Thomas’s lessons, Christine did her best to give Mr. Markham her undivided attention. The ballroom was full to bursting with people she recognized and strangers alike. While tempted to look about for friends, for Thomas, she determined it best not to. Thinking on Thomas only hurt and, considering the earl’s odd interest, would only confuse her further. She turned her eyes to Mr. Markham and her mind to the steps of the dance.
“I hope we see each other in London,” Markham said when the dance brought them together. “If we do, I promise to stand up with you. You are a very fine dancer.”
“Thank you, Mr. Markham. You are very kind.” She gave him her tiniest of polite smiles but could not bring herself to do more. It felt wrong to flirt and lead this gentleman on. He had been nothing except kind to her since their introduction, but she had no interest in him beyond their acquaintance, and her father had even less than that.
The dance with Captain Markham was accomplished with equal politeness and conversation on the weather.
“I am certain it will snow tonight,” he announced when they drew close enough to speak. “You can taste it in the air.”
“I enjoy snow,” Christine said politely. “Especially at Christmas.”
When he returned her from the dance floor, the earl stood waiting, hands clasped behind his back, unsmiling. He bowed
. “Our dance, Miss Christine.”
She curtsied and allowed him to lead her to form the next set. “I hope you do not think me too forward,” he said when they met the first time, stepping delicately around each other before reforming the lines. “I have a need to speak with you on a matter of some importance.”
“With me, my lord?” As confused as she was by his approach, this statement made even less sense. She slipped back into old habits and spoke her mind, without even a hint of flirtation. “I cannot understand why that would be necessary.”
He blinked at her and his lips twitched. “Ah, a forthright young lady. How refreshing. I expected you to play coy.”
Christine nearly said something unladylike but stopped herself. What would Thomas think of her complete disregard for all his hard work?
“I ought to have,” she said with a toss of her head. “I find I am not in the mood and I am thoroughly flummoxed by your behavior.”
He was separated from her for several moments to complete the necessary steps of the dance, but as soon as he returned they stood close again.
“I apologize,” he said calmly. “I wish to ask after your investment with Gilbert’s horse farm.”
Had he announced a sudden fancy for wearing straw bonnets, she could not have been more surprised, and it must have shown, because he swiftly took her elbow and removed them from the floor. “Forgive me, Miss Christine; you are tired.”
As it was only her third dance, she was nothing of the sort, but she allowed him to lead her to a row of chairs along the wall. He gestured for her to sit near an especially large column, concealing her from half the room easily.
“Again, I offer my sincerest apologies for my actions tonight, Miss Christine.”
“I would accept if I knew what on earth you are talking about,” she said, peering up at him, her eyebrows pinched together. “My lord, whatever are you about? I barely know you, and here you ask to dance, then question me about Mr. Gilbert, and—”
“I questioned you about your investment,” he corrected, interrupting her smoothly. He took the seat next to her, his eyes moving to look over the crowd before them. “Smile so no one thinks I hold you here against your will.”
“Heaven forbid,” she muttered, following his instructions and hoping she was convincing. “Is something wrong with Mr. Gilbert’s horses?”
“I merely wished to ask if you thought his farm a sound investment, since you know so much about the beasts yourself.” He turned his eyes to her again, his expression still made of stone.
Christine lowered her gaze and looked away, not liking his frank study of her. What would he see if she spoke of Thomas? Could he know of their meetings somehow? What did he hope to gain through this line of questioning?
“I have invested my horses with Mr. Gilbert. That ought to tell you my opinion of the matter.”
He nodded, she saw from the corner of her eye. “Good. Now, what can you tell me about the man? I am not well acquainted with him and you are his nearest neighbor.”
“My lord.” She greeted him, feeling her cheeks flood with heat, “he is an honorable man and very knowledgeable of horses. His family is kind and good to their tenants. They are well liked throughout the neighborhood. Is that all?”
“No, but it is an excellent start.” He leaned in slightly closer than usually permissible in polite company. “Do you love him?”
Christine’s head snapped up and her eyes flew to his. The heat that coursed through her moments before evaporated, leaving her chilled. “How could you know to ask that?” she whispered, then turned to look around them, certain the whole room must be watching this exchange. Yet no one batted an eye in their direction.
“I have a knack for these things,” he said, tone as solemn as his expression. “You did not answer the question.”
“It is a most impertinent question,” she responded hotly, wishing she could get up and move away quickly without causing a scene. “No matter who you are, my lord.”
The earl shrugged and hummed an agreement. “I think you would have denied it at once if it were not true.”
Christine turned to look at him, still shocked, and began to shake her head. “You ought to take lessons, my lord, in polite conversation. You asked if the stables were a good investment. I believe they are. I trust Mr. Gilbert implicitly.” She tilted her chin up and took a deep breath. “As to your other question, I care for Mr. Gilbert a very great deal.”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms before him. “Miss Christine, I will risk shocking you with yet greater impertinence. If you are in love with him, I can help you, whatever your father may say on the matter.” With one last calculating look, he examined her face. He nodded to himself, then stood and reached for her hand. “Let me escort you back to a friend.”
She allowed him to lead her along the walls of the ballroom, staring at him with complete consternation. He continued to nod and smile at other guests they passed.
When she took her eyes away from his to find some manner of escape, she saw that they were making a direct path to Thomas himself. He stood at ease beside his sister, Mrs. Brody, completely unaware of their approach.
She froze, bringing both of them to a halt. “My lord, why are you doing this?” she asked quietly, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. “I am forbidden to speak to him.”
The earl leaned down, meeting her eyes squarely. “Miss Christine, I outrank your father. And, as it is my home, I may do whatever I wish.” He gave her arm a gentle tug and she continued walking towards Thomas.
Though he did not smile, she thought she detected the air of a trickster about him. How else could one ever explain his behavior?
They were only ten steps from him when Thomas looked up, his eyes catching hers.
Thomas did not turn away, but surprised her by moving quickly in her direction, his eyes lit from within, and a broad smile on his handsome face. She swallowed her happiness and took his gloved hand as he offered it, stepping away from the eccentric nobleman without a thought.
The music began anew and Thomas, eyes only on her, spoke quietly. “Will you dance with me, Christine?”
Her father would not like it.
She did not care.
“Yes, Thomas.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The music began to play and Christine realized, belatedly, that it was a waltz. Few would dance, as many still did not approve of the intimate movements. This would put Thomas and Christine on display before everyone of importance in the county. But he did not hesitate when they reached the edge of the crowd. Her hand went to his shoulder, his to hers, and their free hands clasped as they entered the first position of the German waltz.
Christine could not keep her eyes from his, though she fought hard to keep her gaze down as directed in their lessons.
“You are most beautiful tonight, Miss Christine,” he said.
“Thank you for the compliment.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes and then tilted her chin up. “I am going to be in a great deal of trouble for dancing with you, Mr. Gilbert.”
“Will it be worth it, I wonder?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and smiling at her, his deep green eyes drawing her in. She loved it when he smiled.
“That depends,” she teased him softly when they moved to complete another turn, now arms around each other’s waists. “On whether your conversation is interesting enough.”
“Shall we talk of the rights of kings or of the weather?” He attempted to quell his smile, though his lips continuously twitched upward. If they had not already started a scandal, and he kept smiling like that at her, by the end of the dance they would each be pronounced impolite. Did he not care either?
“I would prefer the weightier topic, in truth, but I have it on good authority that I ought not to have opinions on such things.” She glanced over his shoulder and saw Julia standing next to Mrs. Brody and her husband, all three watching them and conversing with the most serious of expressi
ons. She sighed.
“Christine,” he whispered, pulling her eyes back to him. “This may well be our last dance together, if not our last time speaking to one another. You must know, I have to tell you, that I tried to speak to your father.” His eyes darkened and his eyebrows drew together, creating tiny wrinkles on his forehead, which she found rather endearing. “I asked permission to court you.”
“I know.” Christine followed his lead with ease, hardly thinking of each step. The feeling of being in his arms, guided by him, held as close as society would ever allow, made her steps light even if her heart remained heavy. “Thank you for that. I am grateful you would wish to protect me, as a friend, from an unwanted match.”
His lips quirked upward again. “As a friend? I cannot allow you to misunderstand me to that extent, Christine. You cannot go to London thinking I only attempted to gain your father’s favor because I like you.” He twirled her about as the steps necessitated, but when she stilled and faced him again, he leaned close, his eyes searching hers. “I wished to court and marry you because I love you.”
Her breath hitched and her feet forgot to move, though the room continued spinning about her. All sound ceased and there remained only the two of them, standing, and grasping each other’s arms. Heart rising within her, Christine wished to burst into song or shout with joy, but she could somehow only manage to whisper.
“You do? Thomas, really?”
His eyes stayed on hers, his handsome smile melting her insides. “With my whole heart.”
A murmur filled the room, drawing Thomas’s attention, and Christine reluctantly looked away from him, her heart galloping faster than any horse could ever hope to run. She half expected everyone in the room to be staring at them, pointing and whispering, for how could they have missed such an incredible moment?
The Social Tutor_A Regency Romance Page 20
