Brides of London: Regency Romance Collection

by Alec, Joyce

  Daniel looked at his friend, seeing how Lord Townend spoke out of the corner of his mouth as Miss Smallwood continued her conversation with Lady Esther.

  “I am,” he agreed, trying not to make anything of it. “And thank you for the introductions, Townend.”

  Lord Townend chuckled, his sharp eyes not missing a single thing. “You do not seem particularly eager to speak to Lady Esther, however. Is it because you find yourself contented with Miss Smallwood’s company?”

  Frowning, Daniel gave a tiny shake of his head, telling his friend that now was neither the time nor the place for such a discussion. Lord Townend merely chuckled and then returned his attentions back towards Lady Vasquez, who was watching Miss Smallwood and her daughter with interest. Daniel smiled to himself. Miss Smallwood was more enchanting than she knew, and certainly more interesting that she believed herself to be. Why, she had even satisfied Lady Vasquez, who apparently thought that the daughter of a mere baron was more than able to have a lengthy conversation with her daughter. Daniel found himself hoping that Miss Smallwood’s confidence would be buoyed by this, feeling a good deal of satisfaction that he had chosen to bring her towards Lord Townend.

  Throwing a glance over his shoulder, Daniel immediately caught sight of Miss Martin, who was standing a few feet away, almost hidden in shadow. Were it not for the sharpness of her eyes and the angry expression on her face, he might have overlooked her entirely but, as it was, he could not miss her. Sighing inwardly, Daniel shook his head to himself and turned his head away. Miss Martin could be as frustrated or as angry as she wished; he was not doing anything improper. He was, in fact, doing more for Miss Smallwood than Miss Martin herself was able to do. Surely then the lady would be grateful, glad for the opportunity that had been given to her charge to further herself within society. But no, it seemed that Miss Martin was determined to dislike him, as she had always done. What he could do or say to convince her that he was not the rogue she believed him to be, Daniel did not know.

  Turning his attention back to Miss Smallwood, Daniel felt his spirits lift. Yes, he would have to see if Miss Smallwood could be convinced to walk out with him one day soon, or if he might be able to call upon her. There was something about her that caught his attention, something that was drawing him to her—and it was a feeling that he did not want to fade away.

  6

  “It is very kind of you to ask me to walk with you this afternoon, Lord Williamson.”

  Louisa smiled up at Lord Williamson as they walked together in the park, relieved that she had managed to leave Miss Martin back in the waiting carriage. She had promised that she would not go out of sight of it and thus insisted that there was no requirement for Miss Martin to walk with them both.

  “It is a very fine day, is it not?” he asked, throwing her a quick smile. “A very fine afternoon.”

  She nodded, looking about her and taking in the beautiful flowers, the shrubs, bushes, and trees that lay all over the gardens. It was, as Lord Williamson said, a very fine afternoon and she was enjoying every moment of it thus far.

  The fact that he had asked her to walk out with him had come as something of a surprise, although she had been more than delighted to accept. Her father had agreed without hesitation, waving away Miss Martin’s obvious concerns and stating that he had not discovered anything of note about Lord Williamson’s conduct. This was, as far as Louisa knew, nothing more than a lie, for her father would have done nothing of the sort when it came to finding out more about Lord Williamson. Most likely, he had simply told himself that they were nothing more than rumors whilst being inwardly glad that his daughter was now making progress with a gentleman who would be richer and have a better title than that of Sir Walton.

  “You appear to be a little distracted, Miss Smallwood.”

  Her steps stumbled as a jolt of shame rushed through her. “My apologies, Lord Williamson,” she stammered, looking up at him and seeing the easy grin on his face. “I am so terribly sorry. I thought—I was merely thinking about something that has been on my mind of late.”

  “Indeed. And what might that be, Miss Smallwood, if it is not too bold to ask?”

  She hesitated, wondering if she ought to be truthful with him. There was a growing acquaintance between them, she had to admit, and she had found herself being rather open with him thus far in a way she had not been before, but this did concern him and he might not wish to speak of it.

  “It is only that Miss Martin continues to encourage me away from you,” she replied, biting her lip after she spoke. Daring to look up at him again, she saw how he began to frown, the interest fading from his eyes. “I cannot help but wonder why she believes you to be a cad when I myself have heard no such rumors.”

  Lord Williamson sighed and shook his head. “I am no cad, Miss Smallwood.”

  “I can easily accept that, given that I have not heard any gossip even relating to such a name,” she answered honestly. “But why, then, does Miss Martin believe you to be so?”

  Silence drew out before them, winding itself around her and tightening about her throat. Her awkwardness began to grow steadily, her question lingering between them and yet remaining unanswered. What was it that Lord Williamson did not want to say? Was it because there was, in fact, something in his past that Miss Martin knew of? Something that he had kept so well hidden that only one or two knew of it—and with Miss Martin being a companion, not many would listen to her? Terror began to clutch at her heart, making her breath hitch as she waited for Lord Williamson to answer. When he did not, she began to stammer nervously, trying to tell him that it did not matter, she had not meant to pry, but that it was only that Miss Martin’s vehemence was so overwhelming, she could not help it.

  “Pray, do not worry, Miss Smallwood.” Lord Williamson stopped, sighed heavily, and turned to face her. “Might we sit for a moment?”

  “Yes, of course.” Looking behind her, she saw a small wooden bench and seated herself on it quickly, smoothing her skirts and throwing a glance to her right, seeing that they were both in sight of the carriage. “As I have said, Lord Williamson, I did not mean to pry.”

  “You have not,” he answered easily. “It is quite understandable that you should have such questions, when it is your companion that is urging you away from me.” Again, another sigh issued from his lips. “There is nothing in my past nor my present that should make Miss Martin believe me to be a cad or a rogue. That truth is there for everyone to see. I have never taken advantage of a young lady, nor have I lost myself in gambling and thereafter tried to escape paying what I owe. I have not treated anyone poorly, nor have I lorded myself over those less fortunate than I.” Shaking his head, he spread his hands, looking down at her where she sat. “I do not mean to boast, Miss Smallwood, but you must understand that I seek to clear my character and my name in your eyes.”

  “I do understand,” Louisa replied hastily. “I just wish to understand why she thinks so poorly of you when there is no reason for her to do so.”

  Lord Williamson shook his head again, his brows low over his eyes. “And she has said nothing?”

  “No, she has not,” Louisa answered truthfully. “She gives me no explanation.”

  Lord Williamson nodded slowly, his brows knotting as deep grooves lined his forehead. His eyes were turned away from her, as though he were considering something of great importance and deciding what it was he should do next.

  “Then I can give you no explanation either,” he stated eventually, looking at her directly. “Your companion thinks ill of me and there is no reason for it, as far as I am aware. I wish I could tell you more, Miss Smallwood, for I do not want you to think poorly of me or to have questions about my character. If I could, I would ensure that your consideration of me was entirely positive.”

  Her heart quickened at the sudden yearning in his eyes. “But it is, Lord Williamson,” she found herself saying, aware of the sudden change in his demeanor as she spoke. “What I mean to say is that I do have
an entirely positive consideration of your character—thus far, at least.”

  He looked at her steadily for some moments, not saying a single word. She took in the sudden lightness in his hazel eyes, the tiny lift in the corner of his mouth, and felt her heart quicken suddenly. A blush graced her cheeks, a blush that spoke of her heightened awareness of him, of the intimacy that seemed to grow with every beat of her heart. Mayhap she had spoken too openly or with too much conviction. Mayhap she ought not to have said a single word.

  “You are most kind, Miss Smallwood.”

  She swallowed hard. “I thank you,” she replied with as much sincerity as she could. “I speak of what is in my heart, Lord Williamson, that is all. I do not want you to think that talk of rumors will influence me.”

  “Then you are most unusual,” came the reply, making her brows lift in surprise. “I beg you not to take offence, however, for I mean that you are one of the few to consider rumors, gossip, and the like to be precisely that—whispers that often have no basis in truth. You are one who would, I believe, not accept a rumor just upon hearing it but would then go and seek out the truth before making a decision.” Surprising her still further, he sat down on the bench and looked into her eyes. “I do not think, Miss Smallwood, that you would give someone the cut direct without being entirely certain that they deserved it.”

  Louisa pressed her lips together, aware of how her stomach tightened and her fingers laced together. Had she ever been this near to a gentleman before? Had she ever seen such a look in a gentleman’s eyes before? She did not think so, for she would have recalled feeling as overwhelmed as she did at this present moment, she was sure.

  “I—I should like to call upon you again, if I may.”

  “Of course,” Louisa said at once, a thrill running up her chest as she saw him smile. “I would be glad of your company, Lord Williamson.”

  “Good.” He held her gaze for another moment and then rose from his seat, offering her his hand. “We should return to the carriage. Miss Martin will not be particularly pleased if I should keep you out here for much longer.”

  Louisa laughed, feeling the tension begin to drain from her. “I do not think she would be pleased with any length of time, Lord Williamson.” She accepted his hand, trying to ignore the way her heart thudded furiously with the touch of his hand on hers. “Not that such a thing matters to me.”

  “No,” he answered, smiling down at her and, to her surprise, placing her hand on his arm so that they might walk together. “No, I am certain it does not and I am, I admit, rather glad of your consideration, Miss Smallwood.”

  Louisa made to answer as a happiness began to bubble up within her heart, only for another voice to call out Lord Williamson’s name. She turned, her hand dropping from his arm as he let out a short exclamation of surprise.

  “Lady Burton,” he said at once, bowing quickly. “Good afternoon! I—”

  “Did you forget, Lord Williamson?” she cooed, ignoring Louisa completely. “I thought we were to meet some twenty minutes ago and as you can see, I have been patiently waiting.” She smiled and simpered in Lord Williamson’s direction, batting her eyelashes delicately.

  Louisa tensed at once, not quite certain what this lady meant by suggesting that she was to meet Lord Williamson in the park, for surely Lord Williamson had called upon only her and would not have made another arrangement with someone else. She glanced up at Lord Williamson, seeing how a line formed between his brows as he looked back at the lady.

  “I—I do not know what you mean, Lady Burton,” he said firmly. “I am sorry if you have made a mistake, but I have not made a prior arrangement to meet with you.” He gestured towards Louisa. “As you can see, I am currently walking with Miss Smallwood.”

  Lady Burton trilled a laugh again, her perfect pink lips stretched into a wide smile that spoke of an understanding that, apparently, Louisa did not have.

  “But of course,” Lady Burton murmured, her expression now becoming rather coy. “I quite understand.” She gave Lord Williamson a long look, her lips now curved in a seductive smile. “You must return to Miss Smallwood. Never fear, I shall not hold your tardiness against you.” Laughing, she turned away from them both, still having refused to give Louisa even a single look. “I shall be waiting precisely where we arranged, Lord Williamson, have no fear. I am nothing if not patient.”

  The lady walked away from them both, leaving Louisa feeling utterly foolish and completely disregarded. Lady Burton, whomever she was, clearly thought that Louisa meant very little to Lord Williamson, for he was expected just to remove Louisa from his company and thereafter return to Lady Burton.

  “Miss Smallwood, I must assure you that I did not make any arrangements with Lady Burton,” Lord Williamson began, turning to her with an expression of growing panic coming over his face. “I certainly did not tell her that I had any intention of walking with her in the park this afternoon.”

  Louisa tried to nod, tried to smile, but felt her confusion grow so steadily that it was almost impossible to do so. “Of course,” she murmured, still not at all certain about what had just passed between Lady Burton and Lord Williamson. “I—I understand.”

  “Quite where she got the idea that I was to walk with her today, I do not know,” Lord Williamson continued to protest, not moving an inch but rather continuing to stand in front of her. “I swear to you, Miss Smallwood, I would not have treated you with such disdain as to make arrangements with another lady of quality when I am meant to be solely in your company.”

  Such was the eagerness in his eyes and the sound of desperation in his voice that, despite her own confusion, Louisa felt herself inclined to believe him. Quite how there could be such a misunderstanding, she did not know, but for the time being, she was content to accept Lord Williamson’s promise that he had nothing whatsoever to do with what had occurred.

  “Shall we return to the carriage?” she asked, not wanting to consider the matter any further for the time being. “Look, I can see Miss Martin watching us both with her usual sharp eyes.”

  This, it seemed, brought a small smile to Lord Williamson’s expression, his relief all the more evident when she accepted his arm once again.

  “Thank you, Miss Smallwood,” he murmured, looking at her as though she had brought his every wish to life. “You are most understanding.”

  Wanting to say that she did not quite understand everything that had just occurred but was willing to accept his word for it regardless, Louisa merely smiled and fell into step with him, walking quietly and quickly back to the carriage. Opening the door for her, Lord Williamson once more bestowed a warm smile upon her, which aided her reassurance all the more.

  “Was that Lady Burton I saw talking with you both?” Miss Martin asked, the moment Lord Williamson had settled himself on the seat opposite Louisa. “She is that very rich widow, is she not?” A small, triumphant smile began to play about her mouth, but Louisa frowned back at her, not allowing her to grasp a hold of whatever victory she thought she held.

  “I was glad to make her acquaintance, Lord Williamson,” she stated, even though Lady Burton had not so much as said a single word to her. “Thank you for such an enjoyable afternoon. I look forward to your next visit.”

  Lord Williamson gave her a grateful smile whilst Miss Martin sank back in her seat, scowling. “A walk to the bookshop, mayhap?” he suggested. “Or an ice at Gunter’s, if the weather is fine?”

  “I should be glad to do either,” she told him, throwing aside the last threads of confusion and doubt that held her. It had been a mistake, that was all. Lady Burton must have made arrangements with another and somehow thought it was Lord Williamson for whom she was meant to be waiting.

  “Capital,” he replied, back to the easy, warm manner that she had enjoyed so much at the first. “Shall we say tomorrow? Or the day after that?”

  Aware that Miss Martin was throwing angry darts in her direction, Louisa smiled back at Lord Williamson and let happiness fi
ll her heart once more. “Tomorrow would suit me very well, Lord Williamson,” she replied contentedly. “I shall look forward to being in your company again very soon.”

  “As will I,” he assured her, warmth in both his voice and his expression. “Thank you, Miss Smallwood. I have greatly enjoyed this afternoon and that has been singularly thanks to your excellent company.”

  She blushed at the compliment and looked away, now more certain than ever that Lord Williamson had been caught up in a case of mistaken identity. He was genuine in his compliments and honest in his words, no matter what Miss Martin thought. She smiled to herself and looked out of the carriage window, seeing the London streets busy with ladies and gentlemen of the ton, all on their way to Hyde Park for the fashionable hour and feeling, for the first time in her life, a good deal of hope that she might, one day soon, walk these streets as a lady courted by an eligible gentleman. A gentleman like Lord Williamson.

  7

  “I cannot understand it!”

  Daniel shook his head as he sat down in White’s, seeing Lord Townend gesture to a footman for a drink to be brought to them both.

  “I have not seen Lady Burton in some time,” he continued furiously. “Whatever gave her the impression that I was to walk with her in the park, on the very same afternoon and at the very same time that I was to walk with Miss Smallwood?” He slapped one hand down hard on the table, the brandy in his glass sloshing at the impact. “It is most ridiculous.”

  “Indeed,” Lord Townend murmured, looking at Daniel thoughtfully. “You say you have not seen Lady Burton for some time? Is that the truth?”

  Feeling as though Lord Townend had slapped him hard across the face, Daniel felt his jaw jut forward, his brow lowering. “I am not inclined to mistruths,” he told his friend, seeing the flush of shame that immediately crept into Lord Townend’s face. “I am well aware that Lady Burton has a decent fortune, is widowed, and is inclined to share her favors, but I am not at all inclined towards her. Surely you know me well enough to understand that, Townend!”