Gentlemen and Brides: Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

"This means you can stay with me for a while until we arrange your carriage to the Duke of Lanzaby. Edmund is home and he has missed you.”

  10

  Life had changed dramatically for Alice in a few weeks, especially since the revelation that she was the Duke of Lanzaby's long lost granddaughter. Her grandfather was a dear, sweet man who had cried on meeting her. As the two dukes watched Alice and Edmund take a walk around the grounds, they couldn't help notice the similarity between Alice, her mother and her great-aunt.

  "I should have seen it all along. There was an iridescence about her that was somehow familiar and different all along. Her effect on Edmund was no different than the effect my dearest wife had on me when we first met. I should have made her make up with her sister. Alice could have been in all of our lives all this time."

  The Duke of Lanzaby agreed.

  "I have a feeling this visit is more than to just to reacquaint me with my granddaughter," he smiled, knowing that the young marquess was going to request Alice's hand in marriage.

  "I will, of course, agree," he continued, "but it seems like I am losing her after just meeting her. I must look on the bright side. If she has a son, he can be my heir, and I won't have to choose my nincompoop heir who just happens to share a small amount of my bloodline. The young people today, why can't they be like our generations."

  As the old men continued their talk on the follies of youth, Edmund and Alice were enjoying some alone time. Edmund was a little more nervous than usual, and he would start sentences and never finish them. Alice wondered what was going on.

  "My lord, are you quite well?"

  "Alice, it is my intention to ask your grandfather's permission to seek your hand in marriage. From our time together, I have grown to love you immensely. I cannot imagine my life without you."

  He spoke so fast; he felt like his life depended on getting these words out as quickly as possible. He looked at her to see her reaction.

  "That would make me very happy, as I have grown to love you, too, Edmund. However, I would like to stay with Grandfather for a little while to get to know him. You understand that, don't you? After our wedding, where will we live? Will it be in London?"

  "At our estate in Cholmosley. His Grace was correct in that I have not been a very good landowner, or very responsible, but that will change. I will need a good estate manager, but as you will be my wife, I had hoped for your input in this."

  "I would like for Betty and Jim to live on our estate. I would be uncomfortable in asking her to be in the household, but Jim could be the farm manager. He's a good man. And I'd like Mrs. Dempsey to come as our cook. I want to give her security, and if not for her, I would never have met Betty. You know Betty searched for me every day I was missing."

  Alice felt good. She was going to be able to repay the kindnesses that had been bestowed upon her.

  "You see, within moments, you have already solved my dilemma. I am blessed in having you in my life, my dearest, and I will do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman. You came into my life when I didn't think I deserved redemption."

  Edmund's mind was on Bosley whose plan had backfired. Edmund had allowed himself a moment of glee when Bosley had heard of Alice's heritage. With the information Alice and Betty had supplied, and the fact that Connie gave Bosley up, the duke had discretely made it known about the Earl of Bosley and his propositioning of young maids. Connie had been in a long line of maids to steal on his behalf. While he wasn't formally charged, he was now persona non grata in London.

  "Shall we go inside and make the old dukes happy?" Alice smiled at her soon to be husband.

  "Yes, my dearest, let's go home and make this official."

  Alice was happy. Never in her wildest dreams had she envisioned this moment. The closest had been when she could remember nothing of her past and Edmund and the duke were her world. The sense of security she felt with them had only deepened. They loved her, and now she would get to know her grandfather. She belonged to someone now. And her family was only going to get bigger. She knew the Lord worked in mysterious ways, and through her sadness of being passed over for adoption, she had never let it change her pleasant demeanor. And now she found her way home.

  "Home," she said to herself as she looked over at her grandfather. This was home, for now at least. It was a new concept for her that home would actually mean her home, not just a place where she lived at the pleasure of another.

  "Alice, why are you crying?" Edmund asked with concern as he realized that Alice was no longer by his side but standing looking up at the great house.

  "These are happy tears. I've just realized what home is. It isn't a house; it's the people. You and the duke made me feel at home from the moment we met. And this feeling has just intensified. I've never felt like that before. Thank you for being in my life and for wanting to spend your life with me. It feels wonderful to be loved."

  Edmund couldn't help but rush to his beloved and gather her in his arms, etiquette or not, he had to kiss her tears away because otherwise she would see his tears of joy. She was right. Home was a connection between people and his home was with her.

  THE END

  Christmas Masquerade Ball

  Christmas Masquerade Ball

  Text Copyright © 2018 by Eleanor Swan

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2017

  Publisher

  Love Light Faith, LLC

  400 NW 7th Avenue, Unit 825

  Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311

  www.LoveLightFaith.com

  1

  It was the most wonderful time of the year. Yuletide treats, family, and gifts. Days were cold, and nights were spent beside the fire and reading books and sleeping beneath as many quilts as could be found. Warm tea in chilled fingers. Powdery snow on dark green pine branches.

  Christmas time had come at last.

  My other absolute favorite thing about this time of year was the number of elaborate balls to attend. Almost everyone celebrated with large banquets, dinners, and dancing, with tall and handsomely decorated trees in every corner, and candles glistening on every surface. Everything was warm and comforting.

  The Walford estate hosted a magnificent ball, and I was quite honored to receive an invite. Of course, Lord Walford and my father had been friends for many years.

  Golden ribbons glittered in every window, and only the finest crystal was used as serving bowls and goblets for wine. The Christmas trees were decorated with fruits, berries, and glass ornaments. The air smelled of pine, cranberries, and cinnamon.

  More red ribbons and berries decorated the ballroom, and it seemed that green was the popular color for ladies’ dresses. I myself had chosen a red dress with golden ribbons and ivory lace. It had cost my parents more than they had expected, but it was so handsomely made that my mother said she would have paid four times the amount.

  Mother and Father had long lost the desire to dance at these sorts of social outings. Mother was shy, and Father’s feet often hurt him if he stood too long. Age, he had told me, waited for no one, not even busy men. They found much more enjoyment speaking with their friends and other social acquaintances.

  And that was what they did this night. As I made my way between circles of my own friends, I watched as they spoke with some very influential people. At least, I assumed they were. It was hard to tell, given that everyone wore a mask. Mother’s dress was white, hanging beautifully over her still youthful frame. Her blonde hair, much like my sister’s, was pinned up behind her head, a few loose curls hanging around her face. Fat
her, dark-haired with bright blue eyes behind his bird-shaped green mask, was nodding to a man who stood beside them.

  Yes, one of the most exciting reasons I loved this particular ball at the Walford estate was the fact that it was a masquerade. Everyone came with a mask, and most of the fun was that it was hard to tell who was who. Of course, my friends and I had shared our plans and our masks with one another beforehand, so we knew each other when we met at the ball. But it was still exhilarating to not recognize most people just by standing in front of them.

  I had made my very own mask, with papier-mâché and dye made from cranberries. I had cut out some pretty filigree and roses. It had taken me nearly a week, but when it was all finished, the mask matched my dress perfectly.

  I had been asked to dance by a few men I did not recognize. One of the men revealed himself, and I laughed heartily when I realized it was my dear friend, Lord Gregory. He said that he had recognized me by my golden hair pin, a gift that his sister had given me for my birthday one year. Another man had hardly spoken to me, and while I found him to be quite an admirable dancer, I did not accept when he asked if I wished to dance again.

  The third man that asked me to dance was tall, dark-haired, and had brilliantly blue eyes surrounded by dark lashes behind his simple black mask. His smile was wide and easy, and he bowed before me with a handsome flourish.

  My sister Sarah and our friends had all shoved me a few steps toward him, giggling furiously behind me. He held out his hand and I gracefully took it.

  And what a magnificent dancer he was. He was confident and knowledgeable. I had yet to meet a man who such an agreeable dance partner. Not only was he a fabulous dancer, but he was a wonderful conversationalist. He was anything but shy, asking me how I was enjoying the ball, what I thought of the decorations, and if I enjoyed the tempo of the music. It was a whirlwind, emotionally and physically.

  We danced for two songs, and I had forgotten everyone else in the room. It seemed he had forgotten the others as well. And all the while, I did not know his name.

  The mysterious man and I had much more in common than I could have ever expected, and I found myself attracted to him. His eyes sparkled as he spoke to me, and he told me about his love of books and fencing. His voice was smooth, like velvet, and his hands were gentle around my waist.

  “I just love Christmas,” I said with a sigh as we spun in a circle in time with the music.

  “It is simply delightful,” he replied, beaming at me.

  “This year has been the best by far,” I went on. “My sister has come of age and is able to attend the balls with me.”

  “How wonderful,” he said.

  “It has been the most magical evening.”

  “Would you like to see something else rather special?” he asked me.

  My eyes grew wide. “I certainly would.”

  He took my hand and led me toward the back of the ballroom. He threw open the doors and we stepped out onto the cold terrace. It was entirely empty apart from the two of us, at least for the time being.

  I saw small puffs of air hung in the air between us as I murmured my awe of the gardens stretching before us. Sculptures of ice dotted the landscape, surrounded by flowers and fountains. Stone benches stood beneath them, and a few guests strolled between them, arm in arm. The terrace itself was round, with candles along the rail, and a single strand of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling in the very middle.

  It was breathtaking.

  He led me to the very middle of the terrace, directly beneath the mistletoe. We could still hear the music streaming out through the doors leading back into the ballroom, but it was much softer, much gentler.

  “May I have one last dance?” he asked quietly.

  “I thought you might never ask,” I replied, and I allowed him to sweep me into a close spin.

  “My lady…” he began a few moments later, his voice like silk. “I have had the most enjoyable time with you this evening.”

  My heart was swelling as he spoke. Had he just said the very same thing that I had been thinking?

  “Coming to this ball, I feared that my night would be wasted, as I do not always find ladies that capture my attention as you have. And then I met you…”

  He spun me in a slow circle before drawing me back to himself. The candles around us made his eyes sparkle brightly, as bright as the stars overhead.

  “You are the most beautiful woman here this evening,” he said.

  “How do you know that, truly?” I asked, grateful that my mask covered my blushing cheeks. “You do not know what I look like.”

  “I do,” he replied. “Your hair is like the fading sunset, rich and comforting. And your eyes are as bright as the warm sea, your soul as strong as the waves crashing against the shore. All of this I can see without needing to fully see your face.”

  “My lord,” I said breathlessly. “You are making me blush…”

  “I only am speaking the truth,” he insisted. “Your soul is far more important. And the mask that you wear, as beautiful as it is, is allowing me to see right into it.”

  My hands trembled as he held them in his own. His eyes searched my face, and he smiled at me as if it were the first time he did so, as if he had never smiled at anyone else before.

  He leaned in closer to me, and I found that I did not pull away. I did not even want to resist. In fact, I welcomed it. Heartily.

  My heart raced, my breathing came in quick, small gasps. My palms grew moist, and my eyes widened.

  “My lady,” he murmured. “I…”

  “We…” I began to reply, but the words faded away like wisps of smoke in the wind. I could not think clearly. A small voice in the back of my mind attempted to warn me of something, but I could not be bothered enough to care to think about it further.

  He leaned in even closer, and all I could see were his eyes, all I could hear was his breathing and the beat of my own heart in my ears. I could smell the cold in the air and the lavender from the soap I had washed my hair with earlier that day. Everything was moving slowly around me, as if time itself had stopped.

  And then we closed the distance between us, both of us leaning into each other at the same moment.

  His lips were warm against mine, which were cold and trembling. But he was gentle as he pressed them more firmly to mine.

  An explosion of heat rose up from inside of me. I leaned into him, embracing the kiss, ignoring the sensibilities inside of me telling me how dangerous this was. I did not care. In that moment, it did not matter.

  As soon as the kiss had started, it was over, as we pulled away from one another. I sought his eyes, his piercing gaze, to see if his heart had just split in two like mine had. He stared down at me, and I could see his soul as clearly as he must have seen mine. That kiss had meant just as much to him as it had to me.

  And then reality washed over me. The truth of what had happened hit me square between the eyes. I could still feel the echo of his kiss on my lips. I could feel his hands at my waist.

  He had kissed me. And I did not even know his name.

  As if the same thought had passed over both of our minds, we stepped away from each other, both of our faces flushed. If anyone were to see us, they would assume it was due to the cold. But the two of us would know the truth.

  “I—” he began.

  “Well—” I started at the exact same time.

  We stared at one another, and we fell silent.

  “I should return inside,” I said. How was it that I was suddenly at a complete loss for words? My head was swimming, and I needed some space. I needed to understand what had just occurred.

  “Of course,” he agreed, and smiled as he bowed.

  I hesitated, and before I went back inside the doors, I turned back to him.

  “My lord?” I asked.

  “Yes?” he replied quickly, excitedly.

  “I had a wonderful time this evening.”

  He seemed to relax. I did not want him to believe tha
t I was angry with him. In truth, I was just as involved in the kiss as he had been. I had wanted it. I had allowed it.

  “I did as well,” he said.

  And then, before I dashed across the terrace and kissed him once more, I returned indoors.

  I found my sister, Sarah, who immediately recognized something had happened to me. She commented on the color of my cheeks, and I insisted it was the cold. She asked who it was that had been my dancing partner.

  In shock, I realized that, even after the kiss, I still had not asked him his name. With a small flush of surprise, I realized that he had not asked me my name, either. My sister was not satisfied with my answers, but I just smiled at her, and told her that was the fun of the evening, was it not? Everything was a mystery.

  I saw him as he walked back into the room a short time later. His eyes scanned the dance floor until he found mine, and we stared at one another from across the room, the dancing couples in the middle passing between us.

  The night was winding down, and some of the guests began to make their way back to their carriages and then back home. I could see Mother and Father bidding their farewells, and Sarah began to complain that her feet grew tired.

  I caught the eye of my mystery gentleman once more, and he stared at me just as intently as I stared at him.

  It would have been unwise to leave that night and not know the man’s name, I decided. I knew that if I left and never discovered who he truly was, I would forever regret it. Perhaps I knew him, and we could have a nice, friendly laugh about it. Or perhaps I would not find him very attractive, and I could move on with my life, knowing that our encounter was a one-time experience.

  But I honestly wished to know if he was as handsome beneath that mask as I believed him to be. Fear made me question if he was a single man, an honest and upstanding gentleman. Racing emotions made me believe that he was my soul mate.