“To what do I owe this great honor, your grace?” He asked mockingly as he bowed in jest.
“Oh quit it with your nonsense Elliot, since when did I have to have an excuse to visit my good friend?”
“Since you’ve gotten married and have barely had the time for anything other than your wife whom you are ridiculously besotted with.”
Pierce chuckled, “You sound almost jealous.”
“Hardly,” Elliot scoffed. “I’m just simply pointing out the obvious. By the way, what are you doing here in London? I thought her grace was too ill to travel.”
Pierce went and sat on the settee, crossing one ankle over his muscular thigh. “She just started feeling better. I wasn’t sure it was wise to bring her here but she was getting stir crazy after all those months of being cooped up at Ridgecrest Manor. If her sister wasn’t coming to London for a visit I would’ve refused to bring her.”
“When will the baby arrive?”
“Midsummer most likely. Now stop feigning interest in my impending fatherhood, I have something important to discuss with you.”
Elliot walked over and poured a measure of brandy into two glasses before walking back and handing one to Pierce. He sat in the chair opposite him and said, “Well you best just say what you came to say, I’ve a feeling I’m not going to care for your pronouncement anyway.”
Pierce eyed him shrewdly, “I’m not even going to ask what’s gotten into you today.”
“Shall I thank you for that kindness?”
“No thanks necessary…yet. Do you remember Paul Ogglesby from Eton? I used to run around with him quite often before you and I became friends.”
“Vaguely, why?”
“Well seems he’s now Lord Ogglesby, his father and mother passed away tragically and unexpectedly a little over a year ago from the influenza leaving him a Baron in charge of his younger sister Elenore.”
Elliot gestured impatiently with his hand, “Fascinating, now why do you feel the need to discuss such trivialities with me?”
“Because I’m hoping you can help me—Lord Ogglesby had just purchased his commission in the royal army before the tragedy had occurred and has temporarily placed his sister in my care until he can return. He has asked Hope and myself to act as her guardians and help her enter society now that her mourning period is over.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Elliot was getting annoyed by Pierce’s refusal to get to the point, longing to be back in bed where he could sleep off the headache that was rapidly increasing. It was hard for him to imagine in that moment why he had been anxious to see his friend.
“I was hoping that you could help escort the girl about, help introduce her to society. I was thinking that since you had both experienced loss that you might be able to relate.”
Elliot slammed his drink down on an end table and was instantly on his feet. “How in the world could you possibly think that my losing Felicity would help me relate to a young girl just out of the schoolroom? This is absurd.”
Pierce rose to his feet as well. “Calm yourself man, I wasn’t referring to Felicity, I was referring to the loss of your parents. The girl has just lost the two people in the world she loved the most and the only other person she has isn’t here.”
Elliot turned away, refusing to let Pierce see the embarrassment that was etched on his face at his outburst. The nightmare he’d had about Felicity had made it so he wasn’t thinking clearly. He raked one hand through his slightly long hair and took a deep breath before turning to face Pierce once more, now the picture of calmness.
He shrugged casually, “I suppose I could help a little, but this better not be a pathetic attempt at matchmaking, you know how I feel about that.”
“I’m wounded, I thought you knew me better than that,” Pierce said, clutching one hand mockingly to his chest as if he had literally been wounded by Elliot’s disregard of his character.
“So did I, but ever since you’ve fallen in love with your wife you think all of us bachelors are pathetically lonesome and our lives incomplete.”
“Look man, all I’m suggesting is that you spend a little time with the girl, heaven forbid you might enjoy her company.”
“Doubtful. If you weren’t such a good friend I’d refuse you outright. When do I meet the girl?”
“Her name is Elenore, Miss Ogglesby to you and you can meet her tomorrow evening when you escort her to the Sotheby’s ball.”
Elliot rolled his eyes, “Fantastic, I can hardly wait.”
Chapter 2
Friday April 15th, 1814
Elliot perched awkwardly on the seat in the carriage directly across from Miss Ogglesby. Pierce sat next to him facing his wife as the two of them talked animatedly, oblivious to his discomfort. Though he knew the girl was barely out of the schoolroom, he was still surprised by her youthfulness and naivety. Clad in a white muslin dress she was the fetching picture of innocence. At their initial introduction he had taken in her appearance, from her upswept nondescript brown hair to her matching brown eyes that were set just a tad too far apart in her head. She wasn’t altogether hard on the eyes, but next to the other women he usually spent time with she was rather plain.
He had bowed politely over her hand as introductions had been made and listened with irritation as she giggled when he pressed a light kiss to the back of her hand. Now he found himself2121 trying desperately to look anywhere but directly at the girl, though he could feel her eyes on him constantly. Her scrutiny made him feel uncomfortable and he reached one hand up to tug on his cravat which suddenly felt too tight.
As the carriage rolled to a stop in front of the Sotheby’s mansion, he didn’t bother waiting for the footman to open the door before he had opened it himself and hopped down into the street. More than anything he just wanted to turn on his heel and walk all the way back to his townhouse in Mayfair but he knew that Pierce would be furious and to snub Miss Ogglesby like that would be more than cruel. For once, he decided to act like a gentleman. He waited to assist her from the carriage before taking her arm in his and escorting her into the ball.
The small party waited their turn to make introductions to Lord and Lady Sotheby before being announced and entering the ballroom. Elliot wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if all eyes seemed to be glued to him with the innocuous Miss Ogglesby at his side. He felt more than slightly unsettled at the attention he was sure to garnish escorting a debutante on his arm. He inwardly cursed Pierce once more for roping him into the favor, vowing that he’d surely find some way to get even.
He escorted Miss Ogglesby to the side of the room and quickly let go of her arm, locking his hands behind his back to avoid having to touch her. She looked around the room with wide eyes before turning to him and saying, “This is all so grand, do you ever get bored of it all?”
“Always,” he replied blandly.
She turned to him then, “Are you going to introduce me to your friends my lord? Or perhaps we should dance?”
Irritated he turned to her and scolded, “First things first—you don’t ever solicit a dance from a gentleman, you always wait for him to approach you.”
He watched as she blushed and stammered, “Oh-of course, it’s just that I…well you are quite correct, my lord, please accept my apologies.” He almost felt bad as he watched her embarrassingly apologize but realized that it was best to rectify her faux pas now before she made any further and potentially much more embarrassing errors.
Miss Ogglesby stood wringing her gloved hands and looking at her feet. Something twisted in Elliot’s heart and he was just about to ask her to dance to make up for his brusque manner when he spotted something out of the corner of one eye. He turned his head just in time to see a raven haired lady twirl by in the arms of Lord Wadsworth. Something in her bearing seemed familiar but before he could get a good look at the girl she was whirled out of sight.
“Are you alright Lord Martineau? You seem preoccupied.”
Elliot distractedly gr
abbed her arm and placed it on his as he walked across the room to where a group of men were standing sipping lemonade. He approached the group and made quick introductions before pawning Miss Ogglesby off on them and turning to try and catch another glimpse of the woman who had caught his eye just moments earlier. He scanned the entire dance floor and when he couldn’t seem to find the girl he quickly made a brisk walk around the perimeter of the room. He had almost finished his rounds when he stopped to grab a glass of champagne off a passing tray, swallowing a long gulp and sighing. He finished the last of the champagne off in one long swallow then glanced up at the French doors leading to the balcony and saw the elusive lady slipping out on the arm of Lord Wadsworth.
Elliot knew he couldn’t just barge out behind the pair to investigate who the lady was so instead he marched over to where Pierce had just escorted Hope off of the dance floor. Before the pair had even fully come to a stop he was speaking, “Who is that lady with Lord Wadsworth?”
Pierce looked at him questioningly before glancing around the room to see who he was referring too, “It could rightfully be anyone, Lord Wadsworth is a known womanizer, he always has a beautiful woman on his arm. Why the concern?”
Elliot wasn’t sure how to explain his sudden interest in the complete stranger, instead he just shrugged hoping to appear impartial and said, “She just reminded me of someone is all.”
Pierce eyed him shrewdly before leaning in close and saying in a low voice so only the two of them could hear, “You need to get over her man. Find someone who can make you happy and help you move on, it’s time.”
Elliot’s jaw clenched in anger and annoyance; he was irritated with himself for being so transparent and for letting the dream he’d had the other night get the best of him. He knew more than anyone that he needed to find a way to move on and to stop caring, but he also knew more than anyone how impossible that would be. He had vowed to love her forever and he knew he always would. How could he just move on and marry someone else when his heart belonged to another—to her? The pain that was etched on his heart felt so overwhelmingly burdensome and for the hundredth time he longed to find a way to let it all go, to come to peace with what had happened and to find a way to move on.
Just then he saw the mysterious lady make her way back into the ballroom by herself, Lord Wadsworth was nowhere in sight. He knew his eyes were probably playing tricks on him but for a minute he thought he had seen a ghost. She was shockingly similar to his Felicity and something compelled him to go to her, to see for himself if she was merely a vision.
He crossed the crowded ballroom in a hurry, slowing his pace just as he approached her, hoping to appear calm though his heart was beating erratically in his chest. Before he knew what he was doing he was bowing over her hand, not sure if it was just his imagination or if her skin really did smell faintly of jasmine. When he stood the girl was eyeing him skeptically, one perfectly winged eyebrow raised.
“I have yet had the honor of meeting you and knew I couldn’t go a moment longer without an introduction to the most beautiful lady in attendance tonight.”
The woman looked around in anticipation, “And who, pray tell, is making said introduction?”
For the first time since he could remember, Elliot felt flustered and he didn’t like the feeling at all. He usually prided himself on making others feel uncomfortable and inferior, not the other way around. Ignoring her snide comment about his bad manners he rose with what he hoped was an air of confidence and said, “I’m Lord Martineau, pleased to meet you. Are you engaged for the next set or may I claim your hand?”
The lady looked nervously around the room as if seeking out any excuse to take her leave from him. He took the chance to take in every detail of her; from her elegantly coiffed black hair to her emerald eyes. His own eyes wandered down to her plump bottom lip and the tiny mole that rested just beneath. He knew he would recognize those lips anywhere, so soft and delicious. He literally felt his heart lurch in his chest as he soaked in every detail of her. He let his eyes wander down her body, and even though it was more womanly and full in places he knew without a doubt that he had to be looking at Felicity. He felt a jolt in his midsection and he knew that if he had been a woman he would’ve swooned, but being much too practical for that he grabbed her arm instead and led her out onto the dance floor.
The woman attempted to pull away but his firm grip just tightened its hold on her. “Let me go, you have no right to—”
He cut her off by pulling her into his arms and began moving in time to the waltz that the orchestra had begun playing. Her body remained stiff and unyielding in his arms but he refused to loosen his hold on her any, afraid that if he did she would disappear. He still wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not but if he was he dearly hoped he would never wake.
When Elliot finally felt his heart return to a normal pace he looked down into her beautiful face and asked, “Who are you?”
“Well if you would’ve waited for a proper introduction you would already know,” the woman snapped, clearly annoyed.
“Pardon my impatience, care to enlighten me?”
“The Marchioness of Davenport.” She said coldly.
He wasn’t sure what game she was playing but he decided to play along for just a bit longer. “Oh? Mind I ask where the Marquess is?”
She quickly glanced down to avoid further eye contact. “He passed away a little over a year ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Could it be possible, was his Felicity really a widow? His stomach lurched at the thought of her wed to someone else, of her being touched by anyone else but him. Suddenly he didn’t like whatever game it was they were playing. Though he already held her impossibly close, he still managed to draw her nearer as he lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Where have you been my love? Why are you doing this to me?”
Her head turned sharply as she pulled back from his embrace as much as he would allow, “I do not appreciate your familiarities, my lord.”
“And I do not appreciate your toying with me, my lady.”
She squared her shoulders and stared at the diamond stick pin in his cravat to avoid looking into eyes that were too familiar, eyes that beckoned her to reveal all. “I think you’re mistaking me with someone else, I’m sure we’ve never met.”
Elliot laughed but there was no humor or warmth to it, “Oh I’m positive I know who you are, though I can’t figure out why I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting, or hearing of Lord Davenport.”
“My late husband and I spent most of our time in Dorset at our estate, he was never overly fond of society and we didn’t often venture into London. Now if you would kindly release me, I find I’m not feeling well.”
Elliot reluctantly waltzed her to the corner of the room and released her. “Look, I’m not sure what this is all about but I know who you really are.”
For a brief moment he saw concern on her face before it was quickly masked by irritation, “No my lord, you are wrong—I’m positive you don’t know a thing about me.” And then she turned and fled from the room, leaving a stunned Elliot in her absence.
Felicity felt the tears welling up in her eyes before she could fully escape from the ballroom. She knew that coming back to London and re-entering society had posed a strong a risk that she would see Elliot again she just hadn’t expected her body and her heart to react to him the same way she had all those years ago. She quickly retrieved her cloak from the footman and raced to her waiting carriage, anxious to be as far away from Elliot as possible.
Once inside the dark confines of her carriage, she laid her head back against the worn velvet seat cushions and wept; long strangled sobs wrenched from her throat as if she was mourning her loss all over again. She was grateful her ruse as a widow allowed her privacy and freedom that she wouldn’t be allowed otherwise. When her sobs finally subsided she wiped the tears from her face with the back of one gloved hand before sitting back to reflect on what her next course of action would be.
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She hadn’t come this far in life without a strong will and determination and now more than ever she needed to rely on her inner strength to figure out what she was going to do. Her greatest fear on her return to London society was being confronted with her old life, the life she had been forced to leave behind. Upon her return to London after a four year absence, her Aunt Agatha had informed her of the dire situation her father’s death had left them in. Nearly penniless and facing the poor house if something didn’t change, they had concocted up the scheme that would require Felicity to pose as a widow returning to society after her required period of mourning in need of a husband.
And if the truth were known, she did need a husband though it wasn’t that she wanted one. She unfortunately had no skill that would allow her to acquire a job to provide the much needed income, the only thing she knew how to do was be a lady, it was what she had been born and bred to be. No, her only option now was to find a wealthy and titled Lord who would believe her tale and take her to wife and provide for her and the few people she loved.
Felicity wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she would find love; she had loved once and look where that had gotten her. Her thoughts once more turned to Elliot and the bitterness that she thought she had long ago released hit her full force. She had tried to inquire discreetly to his whereabouts upon her return but the only information she was able to glean was that he was still a bachelor. She had been oddly relieved to hear it though she didn’t know why—there was no rewinding time and going back to what could have been. No, Felicity Pemberton had for all intents and purposes, died that day nearly four years past when her father had banished her to her cruel fate, and it would be best if she didn’t forget it.
***
Elliot watched in shock as Felicity fled from the ballroom, his booted feet frozen in place. He wanted to curse at his seeming inability to follow her. He had dreamt of seeing her one more time but all of his fantasies had never been quite like this. He was rooted to the spot he had last held her in his arms, unable to make his mind communicate to his legs to follow after her.
Ladies of Deception 02 - Misleading Lord Martineau Page 2
