All You Could Ask For

by Angeline Fortin

  “And you may be a ruffian yourself,” she pointed out with a shake of her head. “I don’t need an escort. I just need my hat to stay on my head.”

  “Lass, what a charming creature you are. You are smart-mouthed and saucy. Very intriguing.”

  Evelyn stared up at him, strangely pleased by his comment and bemused by the novelty of her response. Normally she didn’t care a fig what anyone thought of her. It was a quality that tended to terrify new acquaintances or at least put them off her company, yet this man only waited with a genial half-smile and sparkling eyes. His dark hair lifted away from his brow in the breeze. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch it. He did not follow the current mode of heavily pomaded hair, a fact which Eve appreciated. And as attractive and well-dressed as he was, he didn’t show any of the scorn that many in this high-tiered society had shown when faced with one of her frequent faux pas. In fact, he actually seemed to…like it? Fascinating, indeed, she thought, barely noticing as an elegant town carriage came to a halt next to them.

  The accompanying footman jumped down as the door swung open and a deep male voice commanded firmly from inside, “Get in, Evelyn.”

  She glanced to the carriage and back to the gorgeous man before her. She didn’t want to leave him here like this. She struggled a moment searching for something to say. “Sir…”

  “Now, Evelyn.”

  Francis nearly chuckled as she rolled her eyes and turned toward the carriage. “You don’t have to yell, you know. I am standing right here.”

  “You’re a fine one to talk, lass,” came the deep voice again.

  “You didn’t have to chase me down either,” she retorted sharply as she took the waiting footman’s hand and climbed into the vehicle with one last regretful look. “I would have come back eventually.”

  “Well now, I couldn’t be sure of that either, could I, lassie?”

  Francis could identify a thick Irish brogue in the man’s voice. Obviously, her father, he thought. Or rather, he hoped.

  As the carriage started forward, the lass stuck her head from the window and raised a hand in reluctant farewell. Feeling a sudden sense of something akin to panic, he took a step toward it but stopped himself. What was he thinking to do? Call out ‘Stand and deliver!’? He couldn’t make such a fool of himself. But then, what did it matter? She was just another woman, after all, much like any other.

  He turned and resumed his walk toward the park but, unable to help himself, let his thoughts linger on the lovely lass he had just encountered, wondering if he would ever see her again.

  Chapter 3

  “Oh, Kitty!” Eve hugged her pillow tight and rolled on her back. “I can’t believe I didn’t even learn his name.”

  She closed her eyes, and the image of the man’s handsome face came to her mind, dark hair, deep—almost mossy—green eyes. Just calling him to mind launched a cacophony of feelings inside her that she couldn’t truly comprehend. Her heart beat frantically, her breathing grew shallow, and butterflies filled her stomach. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought she was coming down with the ague. “I was just so angry at Da and Mama that it never even occurred to me to ask. Also, I was simply so stunned.” She nodded emphatically. “Yes, stunned by him.” She banged her head into the pillow. “If I have not met him this entire time we’ve been in London, there is little chance I’ll see him again.”

  They had been readying themselves for bed for nearly fifteen minutes, but Kitty was fairly certain her sister’s bemoaning her meeting with a strange man was not going to be over any time soon. It was amusing, really. Eve wasn’t normally one to become all aflutter over any man. Why, over the past three months since they had arrived in London for the Season, Eve had not yet become even slightly enamored of any man, be he lord or prince. It simply wasn’t her way.

  “Well, he was walking up our street. Perhaps he knows someone here,” Kitty reasoned as she perched on the side of the bed. “Lady Hyde is having her ball tomorrow evening; perhaps we could ask her then if she knows of him or whom he was visiting.”

  Eve bounced up on her knees and waved her pillow toward her sister, a shiver of excitement in her eyes. “Or, or…I know, we can call on every neighbor on the street tomorrow and ask about him!”

  “Eve, really,” her sister admonished, though her eyes were dancing with amusement. “You cannot just ask everyone if they know him. It would not be proper.”

  “You’re so strait-laced.”

  It was true, Eve thought. Of the two of them, Kitty was definitely the sister who was better at walking the right side of the proprietary line. They had grown up in a society of ritual, rules, and customs where proper Form and Taste were to be adhered to above all. Lelan Preston often teased Eve that they left upholding their social position to his wife and younger daughter. It was a world in which her sister excelled under the tutelage of her mother, and she was sure to follow Mrs. Preston as a premier hostess of their set. Kitty, just a year younger than Evelyn, was certainly the more ideal debutante of the pair. She was witty and charming yet soft-spoken, a perfect socialite.

  Evelyn, on the other hand, did not take to Society’s rules as well as her sister. Certainly, she could run the large Preston households very well, directing servants and planning menus. She spoke three languages fluently and could be very witty and entertaining over tea. And, to give her fair credit, one could say that Evelyn was equally aware of the conformity of Society. She simply chose, from time to time, not to conform.

  New York’s Knickerbocker set extended approval to Evelyn and her father with affection tempered by tolerance of their difficulties bending to the acceptable form of the times. Her Da was one for doing as he wanted, damn the consequences and had always encouraged his daughters to do the same. They may have lived in a society of rules and rituals, but Lelan Preston had never been very good at consistently doing what was polite and proper.

  Despite all that, both father and daughter could charm anyone they met, even the matrons of the oldest families on the social register.

  Her father had travelled a long road since he had immigrated to New York from Ireland nearly forty years before. Despite his marriage to Margaret Winters, a distant cousin to the Astors, and the fortune he’d accumulated, it had taken Preston some time to become truly accepted into Old New York Society. Evelyn was born shortly after the end of the war in 1865, and Katherine, whom they all called Kitty, was born the next year. The family they created softened the Winters and Astor families to him. The Preston family name gained secure position in Society when they were listed among the ‘400.’ The elite of Society as determined by Mrs. Caroline Astor, the ‘400’ was actually named for the number of people who would fit in the ballroom of her Fifth Avenue mansion. It consisted of 213 families of established social background whose lineage could be traced back at least three generations.

  It was a place secured by his wife’s heritage, but Preston did not stop his quest to become one of the richest men in America. By the time the girls had made their debut, he was worth more than one hundred million dollars.

  What charm alone had not overcome, wealth had forgiven.

  * * *

  “He was a Scot, I think,” Eve contemplated out loud as her mind wandered back to the mysterious man she had met. Her sister was letting down her hair at the dressing table, and Eve moved to join her. Taking the brush from their maid’s hand, Eve dismissed her and proceeded to brush her sister’s hair as they had done all their lives. “I recognize his accent now that I’ve had time to reflect on it. Maybe Abby or Moira would know who he is.”

  Abygail Merrill and Moira MacKenzie were the sisters’ two dearest friends from The Folkestone Academy for Young Ladies—a veritable prison of a finishing school they had all attended together until almost two years ago when Eve had graduated and moved on to university. She and her sister had been outcasts at the elite school from the beginning of their stay six years before simply for being American, while Abby and Moira had faced
equal disdain for their Scottish heritage. And, except for Abby, they were all heiresses of obscene wealth which was enough to prompt animosity from the academy’s other students without further cause.

  Where Eve and Kitty were sisters true, Abby and Moira were sisters at heart having grown up near each other. Moira had actually begged her father to send her down to the academy when she had found out Abby was going. They had spent the better part of their time serving punishments the headmistress, Miss Stapleton, continued to heap on them each time they decided to have a little fun. For four years, the quartet had run wild together, becoming inseparable, the best of friends, and getting into more trouble than any other students in the history of the school.

  “Should I write them and ask, do you think?” Eve asked tying a ribbon at the bottom of the long plait she had just completed.

  Taking the brush and pushing her sister into the chair for her turn, Kitty shook her head and giggled at Eve’s obsession. “Dearest, even if you had an actual name, Abby and Moira do not know every man in Scotland.”

  “They might.”

  “They probably don’t.”

  “Improbable but not impossible.”

  Kitty continued to brush and braid and finally gave her sister a pat. “There, you are done now.”

  Eve sighed heavily. “Not that it would matter. Da has all but engaged me to that stuffy old man, Lord Hindon.”

  “He’s not that old.” Kitty’s soft voice tempered her comment.

  Eve merely shrugged. “And you know mother would never let me choose some mere gentleman over a future earl.”

  “True.”

  “But…oh Kitty! When he looked at me…”

  “What?” her sister urged as she turned down the covers on her side of the bed and climbed in. A dollop of envy descended upon Kitty as she listened to Eve and watched her sister’s face light up as she spoke about her mystery man. She’d never met a gentleman who had caused her such flights. Never met a man who made her feel anything like the sisters had dreamed of. She wanted to very badly. “Was it like a fairy tale? Was it like everything we always dreamed of?”

  “My heart fairly stopped. I swear it!” Eve giggled, climbing into their bed, hugging her pillow close again. “It was like a fairy tale meeting. The stuff of dreams. I never imagined that such immediate feeling was actually possible. But I’ve never looked at a man before and just had the thought leap into my mind that I had to know his kiss.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.” The idea of love at first sight chased through her mind, but she dismissed it as a girlish idea. It was girlish, still utterly romantic. She turned down the lantern next to the bed and smiled dreamily into the darkness. “And somehow, some way…I know I will find out.”

  Chapter 4

  Half Moon Street

  London, England

  The next evening

  “It’s just no use,” Evelyn’s voice was fraught with exasperation. “There are just too many people here. I haven’t been able to engage Lady Hyde in conversation for more than a few seconds and, if he is here, I could never see him for the crush.”

  Indeed, the assembly room of Lady Hyde’s townhouse was packed to the rafters with London’s finest. And Lady Hyde was probably as pleased as punch in spite of the heat generated by so many bodies. Eve was so very uncomfortable under her long corset, and her agitation over her target’s failure to appear certainly did little to ease her discomfort. She circled the ballroom a dozen times in search of the man who so captured her attention, tempting her mother’s wrath while rudely ignoring any other gentleman who might beg a dance from her.

  “Worry not, dear,” Kitty tried to reassure her. “We shall keep looking. I’m engaged for the next set with Sir Melton but, as soon as we’re done, we can take another turn about the room. If you had let anyone fill in your dance card, you would have had something to do other than worry over this.”

  “I wanted to be able to dance with him in case he asked.”

  “And instead, you’ve been a wallflower for most of the evening, and there are only two sets remaining before supper.”

  “Leave me, Kat, and go enjoy your dance.” Eve continued her perusal of the room. “I know Sir Melton is very handsome and dashing.”

  “True, but I don’t feel that I have to know his kiss,” her sister teased, bringing a blush to Eve’s cheeks.

  “Very amusing, dear sister, but one day—” Kitty turned as her sister froze and clenched her arm. “Kat, it’s him!”

  “Where?” she demanded, scanning the room in the direction Eve was staring.

  “He’s making his bow to Lady Hyde and walking toward the…oh, no!” Eve clenched her sister’s arm again even as her heart raced. “He’s leaving. Oh, he can’t leave!”

  Kitty tried to pry her arm from the death grip Eve had on her. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going after him. That’s what I’m doing.” She grabbed up her skirts and started toward the door before swinging nervously back to her beloved sister, petting down her heavy skirts. “How do I look?”

  Eve was in one of her many Worth gowns that had been made for the Season, this one a heavy pale yellow silk with a center panel of floral embroidery. Her shoulders were bared by the wide neckline. She wore no jewelry, only small flowers tucked into her curls. She knew that the color flattered her and had been offered a multitude of compliments this evening, but none were from him. Suddenly, nothing seemed to matter beyond what he thought.

  “You are beautiful, of course.” With a laugh, Kitty waved her away. “Go, dear. Run! I will divert Mother.”

  “Oh, thank you!”

  Eve dashed into the crowd and wound her way through the dense crush avoiding eyes and calls for her attention. As quickly as she could, she made for the door but as she stumbled to the bottom of the front steps to the townhouse, she knew that it had taken too long to work her way out.

  “Oh damn, damn, damn!”

  A warm hand slid around her bare arm just above her glove causing her to jump in surprise. With a squeal she tried to pull away.

  But Francis simply took her hand and tucked it in the corner of his elbow. Turning, he led her around the corner of the townhouse and toward the rear gardens.

  “Smart-mouthed and saucy. How very intriguing,” he commented, as if their previous meeting had never been interrupted. “What has you so vexed, lass?”

  The low warm brogue sent shivers of heat down her spine, stealing her capacity for intelligent speech.

  “It’s you.”

  “And it is you, as well. I must admit I was hoping to see you again.”

  An understatement on his part to say the least. Francis had been torn the previous afternoon and part of this morning with presenting himself at the residence four doors down from his grandmother but how to introduce himself if she wasn’t evident in the front hall? Ask for the daughter of the house? What if she had been merely visiting? That was a possibility to be sure. When she had ridden away in that carriage, he’d feared that he might not see her again and yet dreaded that he might, so taken aback by this bizarre attraction was he.

  Using his better judgment, he had waited, taking a chance that his grandmother would invite her neighbors this evening. Of course, she had. Lady Hyde was nothing if not courteous to her neighbors. She had been there! But when he had spotted his mystery lass earlier this evening, she had looked at him blankly as if she did not recognize him. He’d been disappointed, but his logical side said that perhaps that was for the best, considering the circumstances.

  “You were?” she sighed breathlessly, then mentally kicked herself for sounding like such a school girl and lied, “I didn’t imagine I would see you here this evening.”

  “Lady Hyde is my grandmother, so I really had no choice.” Francis savored the feel of her hand on his arm. The attraction he had felt the previous day had not faded in the slightest. Indeed, he would have to say that it had grown. “When I spotted you earlier this evening, you di
d not seem to recognize me. I thought perhaps I had made little impression on you despite the one you made on me.”

  Eve frowned in return. “I’ve been looking for you all…I mean, I did not see you earlier. ” Her eyes widened, and she flashed him a grin. The smile, the first he had seen from her, sent a bolt of awareness through him. “That must have been Kitty you saw. She’s my sister. Most cannot tell us apart at all, we look so much alike.”

  “Ah.” Francis nodded and gave her a sweeping look from top to bottom. “Of course. Now I see that the gown and hair are different. I must say my own twin brothers do not resemble each other as much as you two.”

  “We’re not twins at all, but many have said it’s uncanny, our resemblance.”

  “It is indeed.” He turned into a side gate that led back to the gardens behind his grandmother’s house. “So, here we are strolling now, much as we would have done if your father had not interrupted us before. It was your father, aye?”

  At her nod, he continued, pushing aside the feeling of relief, “Was he the source of your ire?”

  “My ire? Oh, well yes, I…um, suppose. Da and I are always at loggerheads with one another. It’s the Irish in us,” Eve tried to think of something intelligent to speak of as they entered the garden. She wanted to seem more sophisticated but could think of nothing. “It’s a lovely garden, isn’t it?”

  “Aye, lovely,” he repeated staring down at her with a feeling akin to wonder and then shook his head to recall himself to her observation. “A passion of my grandmother’s.”

  “I would have thought you a Scot considering your accent. However, I don’t believe Lady Hyde is.” Admittedly, she was grasping at the straws of polite conversation, but she could think of nothing regarding the weather that seemed appropriate in this situation.