by Joyce Alec
“Maybe you can knock some sense into him,” his father shrugged with a wry smile. “Goodness knows the man needs to listen to someone.”
Luke did not reply, his attention drawn to the lady in front of him who rose from the pianoforte as the rest of the company applauded her.
“Can you see her now?” his father murmured, as she came around the pianoforte to dip into a small, graceful, curtsy. “What say you?”
Luke found that he could not say anything, such was his shock. The lady standing there was none other than the mysterious young lady he had now had the opportunity to speak to on three previous occasions, the lady he had walked with in the park only a day previously. The lady he had been so conflicted over, finding an affection growing in his heart when he knew it should not be there. He had been caught by her beauty and grace, and now to discover that such a creature was to be his bride made him almost overwhelmed with delight. There would be no more of a struggle between his heart and mind, no more questioning what he was to do. All had come to a rather perfect end.
“She is wonderful, I assure you,” his father continued, as Lady Elizabeth caught Luke’s gaze for a moment. “She will make you very happy, I dare say.”
Lady Elizabeth’s cheeks darkened to a rosy pink, as Luke held her gaze, her expression almost a little embarrassed. She was clearly well aware of him, aware that he was now studying her with a new sense of wonder, overcome with the news that the lady he had not been able to get from his mind was, in fact, his betrothed.
“I have met her before,” he said hoarsely, “Although I did not know her name.”
“Oh?” his father asked, looking surprised. “And did she know you?”
Luke shook his head, suddenly desperate to remove himself from his seat and hurry over to Lady Elizabeth so that he might introduce himself properly. He could hardly wait for her reaction, aware that there had been something blossoming between them.
“Well, it looks as though you are now to both have that opportunity,” his father said, easing himself upright to standing, wincing slightly as he stood. “I keep forgetting that I am not as young as I used to be,” he muttered, as Luke came after him. “That blasted knee of mine.”
Luke gave him a sympathetic smile but found that he could find no response, such was his desire to see Lady Elizabeth. The rest of the guests had now risen to their feet and were going in search of refreshments before the second half of the evening could begin. Luke did not care for food nor for drink, his mind fixed solely on the lady he could call his own.
“This way, my boy,” his father muttered, making his way through the crowd and toward the young lady, and from Luke’s assumption, her mother.
He saw her eyes flare, as she caught sight of him and his father approaching. She did not look at his father but only at him, her cheeks still a dusky pink. Luke recognized the lady with her at once, recalling her from the time he had been at her home and introduced to her.
“Lady Lewisham!” Luke heard his father exclaim, as he hurried forward to greet the lady. “How very good to see you again.”
“Lord Stowell,” the lady replied, with a bright smile. “How wonderful! I am only sorry that my husband is not here to greet you.”
Luke kept his eyes on Lady Elizabeth, seeing her frown just a little as she glanced at her mother and then to Luke’s father. There was a slow dawning awareness on her face, her mouth falling a little ajar as she turned her gaze back to Luke. Unable to stop his smile, Luke found himself practically grinning as she became aware of exactly who he was and what he was to be to her.
“And, of course, this is my daughter, Lady Elizabeth,” the Lady Lewisham continued, with a bright smile which she directed over towards Luke.
Lady Elizabeth curtsied, her eyes darting from Luke to his father and back again. Her smile was warm, yet her eyes filled with both confusion and embarrassment. Luke wanted to tell her not to be ashamed, that there had been nothing improper between them thus far. All in all, he found this a very happy situation, his future now bright and shining in front of him as he smiled at Lady Elizabeth.
“How very good to meet you again,” Luke’s father said, putting one hand on Luke’s shoulder. “And this is my son, Luke, Earl of Mallon.”
Luke bowed at once, before catching her hand and bending over it. “Lady Elizabeth,” he said quietly, feeling her pulse fluttering in her wrist underneath his fingers. “How very good it is to make your acquaintance.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes wide. “Indeed,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Very good to meet you, Lord Mallon.”
7
Elizabeth could not breathe, her stomach tightening as Lord Mallon, her betrothed, bent over her hand. His lips brushed the back of her hand, and she felt her cheeks flush.
This was not what she had expected in the least, and from the astonishment still written on his expression, he had not expected it either.
Something like joy began to bubble up within her. She had no need to worry any longer as to what her husband would be like, nor whether or not she would find him in any way attractive. She had already felt the spark between them when they had first met, when she had not even known his name. The excitement she had felt, the sudden, unexpected thrill of his gentle touch now all seemed to be quite acceptable, given that he was to be her husband. She just had to hope that he felt the same as she. Given that he was clearly handsome, and that he had been so visibly attracted to her whilst being betrothed, Elizabeth felt a sliver of worry bury itself in her heart. Would he take a mistress when they married? She knew a great many gentleman did, but now that she knew who he was, the very thought of it stuck a huge pain into the depths of her heart.
“Elizabeth, you are very quiet,” her mother prompted, with a slight warning to her voice. She was expected to say something, expected to continue the conversation, and yet she could not. Her throat was dry, her surprise still overwhelming her.
Lord Mallon chuckled, his smile directed solely towards her. “Shall we take a walk, Lady Elizabeth?”
She blinked for a moment before nodding. “A walk would be very pleasant.”
“Just around the room, of course,” he said at once, catching his father’s sharp look. “Or, mayhap, the gardens, if the doors are opened. Our host does have a particular lovely garden.”
Elizabeth felt her breath hitch, her skin tingling all over, as she anticipated what might pass between them when they were alone in the gardens.
“Just ensure you return my daughter to me within the hour,” Lady Lewisham said with a small smile. “It will be good for you both to get to know one another before the wedding date is set.”
Elizabeth’s smile faded as she saw Lord Mallon frown. Was he not pleased with the idea of matrimony? Did he find the prospect to be an unpleasant one? For a sudden, horrible moment, she wondered if Lord Mallon was something of a rake, a man used to toying with women of the ton. She could not expect him to behave properly in his young years, given that her own brother had picked up a scandal or two during his time in London. However, Elizabeth had to hope that Lord Mallon was now a respectable gentleman. She could think of nothing worse than him being an all-out rogue.
“Shall we, Lady Elizabeth?”
He was holding out his arm to her, and aware that her mother was practically beaming at her, she took it at once and began to walk with him through the crowd.
“I do hope you will not mind a quiet walk in the gardens,” Lord Mallon murmured, glancing down at her before returning his gaze straight ahead of him. “I think there are a few things we might need to talk about, and I do not think that a room filled with other guests is the best place for such a thing.”
Elizabeth laughed softly and heard him chuckle. “Indeed not, Lord Mallon. You are quite right. We do have a very great deal to talk about.”
He looked down at her and held her gaze for a moment. Elizabeth was struck by the intensity held in his eyes. It made her shiver and burn at the same time, her whole bod
y almost burning with a strange, inexplicable heat.
This was so unexpected, and yet so perfect.
He cleared his throat and looked away before hurrying her out of the doors towards the gardens, which were lit by beautiful lanterns. Elizabeth caught her breath, her eyes wide at the sight of such loveliness, realizing that what Lord Mallon had said about their host having beautiful gardens had been something of an underestimation. They were completely stunning.
“Alone, for a time at least,” Lord Mallon murmured softly. “My goodness, Elizabeth, we have had a strange path towards one another.”
To hear him use her name without its title came as something of a surprise to her, but as she looked at him, she realized that it was something she should expect. They were betrothed, after all.
“We have,” she said quietly. “I will confess to being rather relieved about it.”
His eyebrows rose. “You are?”
“Of course, I am,” she replied with a laugh. “I will not pretend that I have not been rather worried about meeting you. I had very little idea of your appearance and did not know whether or not you would have any inclination toward me.”
“I do not think that you need concern yourself in that particular regard any longer,” he murmured in a low voice, making her shiver with delicious anticipation. “You cannot be in any doubt as to how much I care for your company. You caught my eye the first time I saw you, and I have been unable to remove you from my thoughts since then.”
Elizabeth swallowed and looked up at him, caught by the dim light of the lanterns flickering across his strong features. “I feel the same way, Lord Mallon,” she managed to say, aware of just how hoarse her voice appeared to be. “I am already looking forward to developing a deep friendship with you.”
Lord Mallon smiled, walking her a little off the path and towards a darker part of the gardens. Elizabeth went willingly, her breath catching in her chest as he slipped one arm around her waist.
“I know we are not to speak of our betrothal until the Season is out,” he said softly, as they walked under a canopy of trees. “But I would like to propose to you sooner than that.”
Her heart quickened its pace. “I would be glad of that, Lord Mallon.”
“I will, of course, court you as I ought,” he continued, with a smile that infused his very words. “I believe that you are right to suggest that we get to know one another better, although I believe that a foundation has already begun. I do not delight in the prospect of waiting until the Season is almost at its conclusion before wedding plans can begin to be made. What say you to that, my dear?”
The warmth in his voice made her blush, the heat of his hand on her waist seeping into her skin. She was not used to being spoken to with such affection, and even though they had known one another only for a short time, it felt right to be addressed in such a way.
“I would be delighted whenever you choose to do so,” she said, her words caught by the gentle breeze as she spoke. “Although you need not go to such lengths, Lord Mallon. We are already betrothed.”
He shook his head. “Not in the way I would wish, Elizabeth. I will propose to you at the right time, once we have come to know one another better. I will do so in the knowledge that you will accept.”
Elizabeth found herself pressed back against a large tree trunk, her senses swimming. Was he about to kiss her? She found herself suddenly longing for it, a desire that she had never known before seeping into her veins.
And then a sudden thought struck her. Something she had to know before she allowed such an intimacy.
“I must ask,” she said breathlessly, as he came closer to her. “I must ask whether or not you intend to have any mistresses or the like.”
The warmth was gone from him in an instant. He stepped back, releasing her, and Elizabeth felt herself wince as she realized she had overstepped.
“A mistress?” he repeated, his voice empty of the warmth that had been there only moments ago. “Whatever makes you ask such a thing?”
Elizabeth began to stammer, her words flooding out over one another. “It is just that I know a great many gentlemen do such a thing, not that I am judging either them or their wives, you understand. It is just that, since we met, I have been aware of our connection, despite our betrothal, and….” She trailed off, realizing that she was not making much sense. “I suppose, Lord Mallon, I am asking such things because I wish to know what to expect from our marriage.”
Lifting her chin, Elizabeth did not shirk before him, nor did she retract her question. As far as she was concerned, she had every right to ask him such a thing, given that he was to be her husband for as long as they both had life. And to kiss a gentleman who had every intention of taking another when they wed was not something she was inclined to do.
He lifted his head and studied her, even though she could only see a glimpse of his face through the shifting shadows. She could not tell what he was thinking, whether he was angry with her or frustrated with himself.
“Elizabeth,” he said eventually, his voice low and firm. “You are quite correct in saying that we need to become better acquainted with one another. Had you known me better, you would have known that such a question did not even require asking.”
His hand touched hers, and she took it gladly, relieved that he had not become angry with her as she had thought he might do.
“I will never take a mistress, not for as long as we are wed,” he promised, his voice a little softer. “You need not fear, Elizabeth. Just as you are loyal to me, I am loyal to you. I will not pretend that I did not have some foolish encounters when I was a younger man, and indeed, if you have questions for me in that regard, I will do all I can to answer them honestly. However, I will be truthful and pledge to you that my hands will touch no other but you. My heart will be filled with none but you. You, Elizabeth, shall be my all.”
Elizabeth felt herself soften, the tension and worry she had felt flowing right out from her.
“I am very glad to hear it, Lord Mallon,” she replied softly. “Forgive me if I have offended you by asking such a question.”
“You did not offend me,” he stated, coming a little closer to her. “And I insist that you refer to me as Mallon, whenever we are alone. Or, you may also call me Luke, if you prefer a little more intimacy.”
Elizabeth blushed. “Thank you, my lord. I-I mean, Luke,” she said, testing out his name on her lips. “You are very kind, especially after so short an acquaintance.”
“But yet it feels as though I have known you for a long time,” he murmured, running one gentle finger down her soft cheek. “I feel as though I have carried you in my heart for so many years, as though I have always had you by my side.”
His lips touched hers, and Elizabeth tried to steady herself against the overwhelming feelings that ran through her body. Her fingers were clinging to the sides of his jacket, the length of her body pressed against his. There was no shame, no embarrassment, no thought that what they were doing was wrong. It felt entirely right and good and proper. As he deepened the kiss, Elizabeth gave herself up to the feelings he was pulling from her, delighted to know that this man would one day be her husband. They would share a life together. This was only the beginning.
8
Two Days Later
Luke sighed happily to himself, as he sat back on in his chair, having just enjoyed a splendid breakfast. His father had set off for home almost immediately after Luke had been introduced to Elizabeth, clearly glad that the meeting had taken place. He had no concerns now, for he had made it clear to Luke that he was to court the girl, propose, and set a wedding date by the end of the Season.
Elizabeth had been as astonished as he to discover that they had already been acquainted—albeit unofficially—prior to their first meeting. What a relief it had been to see that the woman who was to be his bride was an altogether lovely one. Luke would be lying were he to say that he was not attracted to her, recalling how his blood had begun to heat as he h
ad kissed her.
Elizabeth had been so soft and sweet, and clearly had never been kissed before, which made him appreciate her all the more. He was already looking forward to seeing her again, and he had made the attempt to call on her yesterday afternoon, only to discover that she and her mother were out on a previous engagement. Having left his card, he had returned home to write a note to her requesting that he be permitted to call upon her the following day. Her response had been almost immediate, clearly thrilled with the prospect of seeing him again. Since then, Luke had been thinking of almost nothing else.
That was, until his rather ridiculous cousin interrupted his silence.
“Mallon?”
The door creaked open, and the pale face of his cousin, Baron Parke, peeked around it.
Luke bit back a sigh and gestured for him to enter. “You need not hide from me, Parke.”
His cousin walked in, closing the door behind him. He was a tall, wiry fellow with a shock of dark hair and clear blue eyes that had the habit of looking all about in a rather suspicious manner. He had requested Luke’s help for a certain matter two days ago, and once Elizabeth and her mother had taken their leave, Luke had no choice but to go to his aid. He could not simply turn his back on family, despite the desire to do just that.
Aware that he had a great deal of wealth, Luke had unwillingly paid off his cousin’s debts to the two men waiting outside White’s. Then, he went in to claim his cousin. He discovered that Parke now no longer had lodgings, since he had not paid what was due. Since he could not exactly leave him on the street, he had told him that he might stay with him for a day or so until he could make arrangements to travel home again.
Luke discovered that Parke’s father, before he died, had stipulated in the will that his son not be given full access to all of the Baron’s accumulated wealth at one time. There was strict sum for the first five years, and only then would all be open to Parke. It was a rather strange thing for any father to put in their will, but now it all became clear to Luke. Parke was not a wise man, and he was inclined to throw his money around. Clearly, Parke’s father had hoped that five years would be enough time for his son to learn to take care of his coin.
