An Earl for Edith

by Tammi Lee Bird

  “Next time you won’t have such an advantage,” Edith stated. “I’ll ride your fastest mare and show you how a race is won.” Lord Camden laughed and Edith bid him farewell. Once she was back inside and had changed into a different dress, it was time for tea. The hot beverage made her cold hands tingle and warmed her insides better than a blanket.

  Lady Camden was a perfect host, making sure that everyone had enough to eat and drink. She even started new topics of conversation whenever the room grew quiet. There was a sense of confidence and quiet strength in the Countess which reminded Edith of a deep lake or snow-capped mountain, unmoved by small disturbances.

  Another sip of tea heated her throat as Miss Trimble leaned close and said, “I heard you fell off of your horse today.”

  “My horse ran off with me, but I pulled through without injury. What did you do while we were out riding?”

  “I spent a quarter-hour practicing the pianoforte. I love music. It helps me feel centered for the day, and if I don’t spend at least part of my day practicing nothing goes right. Do you enjoy playing?” Miss Trimble asked.

  Edith was proficient at the piano but lacked enthusiasm for playing, which made her sound methodical and unemotional when she performed. “I prefer a good walk or ride, to be frank. I just don’t have the passion for the instrument that you do. Perhaps you will hear me play later and give me some advice.”

  The tray of snacks was quickly disappearing, and Edith captured one of the last cucumber sandwiches. She took a bite of creamy goodness and sighed contentedly. Miss Georgina laughed playfully across the room and swatted at Lord Camden with her fan. Why she needed one in December was beyond Edith, but she refused to pay attention to the flirt. Camden didn’t seem to mind that the outrageous girl was wearing a dress low enough to make one worry if she was going to spill out of it each time she laughed.

  Edith turned her body away from the distracting earl and was surprised to see Archibald Lancaster seated to her left. The man must have joined them whilst she’d been staring at the earl. “How are you enjoying your tea, Sir Archibald?”

  “Everything has been scrumptious. I especially enjoyed the berry tarts. I noticed you are partial to cucumber sandwiches and butter cookies, Miss Wilson.” His perfect blue eyes bored into her with the full force of his total concentration. He smiled and his dimples appeared along with laugh lines around his eyes. He was seriously too beautiful for words. “Would either of you ladies like another cup of tea?” he asked.

  Edith shook her head, but Miss Trimble accepted his offer. Sir Archibald stood up, grabbed her empty cup, and presented it to Lady Camden who elegantly poured more tea. When he returned, Sir Archibald sat down next to Edith and whispered, “You look lovely today, Edith.”

  Edith tried not to show her surprise. Even with her knowledge of why he was paying court to her she still found his forwardness brash. “Thank you, Sir Archibald, but I do not appreciate your familiarity. Please mind your manners.”

  “I beg your pardon, Miss Wilson. I feel as though I’ve known you my whole life. I suppose that is why I let down my guard.” He smiled apologetically, and Edith was sure that exact smile had gotten him out of more trouble than she wanted to imagine.

  Her lips betrayed her and lifted in a return smile. She couldn’t stay mad at Sir Archibald. She turned to Miss Trimble and asked, “What are your plans after leaving Avonview? Will you be joining me in London or will you head home?”

  “I too will be returning to London for my second season. I’m sure we’ll run into each other at some point. After all, there are only so many balls to attend.”

  “And London is bound to spring to life once two such lovely ladies are there,” Sir Archibald said. He turned his gaze back onto Edith and continued, “I, for one, will try my hardest to make sure you both leave a spot on your dance card for me.”

  He was as smooth as silk and butter. He made her feel beautiful with only a few smiles and compliments. If she didn’t know his true interests her heart may have succumbed to his charm by now. As it was, Edith put aside his words as petty flattery and murmured a simple “of course.”

  Once tea was over, Edith walked with Lucy back to her room. She was ready for an afternoon nap. She flopped down on the bed and closed her eyes. When her maid Gretchen entered the room to help her undress there was a strange look on her face.

  “What’s going on?” Edith asked. “You are chewing on your nails and look like you have something you want to say.”

  “Well, miss, I wasn’t sure if I should give it to you. It came while you were at tea.”

  “What came?”

  Gretchen walked over to the writing desk and pulled a letter out of one of the drawers. “It’s from Sir Archibald Lancaster. I didn’t read it, but you ought not receive personal communication with an unmarried man.”

  “I promise I won’t send a letter back, but I would like to read the missive. Could you give me a moment to myself?”

  Gretchen nodded and put the letter on the desk and left. Edith’s heart raced as she cut open the paper with her name gracefully penned across the top.

  ‘Dear Miss Wilson,’ it began. ‘I have admired you from the moment we met, and I admit to visiting Avonview with the single purpose of seeing you. Would you be so kind as to join me in a walk around the gardens, with your maid of course, provided the weather is tolerable. Even a stroll indoors would be delightful as long as you are with me. If you agree, please meet me in the green room at half-past ten tomorrow morning. Sincerely, Archibald Lancaster.’

  Chapter 11

  Edith paced furiously in front of the green salon. Gretchen had given up on trying to follow her and stood next to the door waiting for her to make a decision. “Are you going in?” her maid asked.

  On the one hand, at least they wouldn’t be alone with Gretchen in attendance. But on the other hand, she would be sending Sir Archibald a message if she entered. He would assume that her agreeing to meet him was an indication of interest on her part. Was she interested in him? He was handsome, like a perfect painting or a statue. He didn’t seem real, not like Miles. I mean Lord Camden. If she started thinking of him as Miles, she’d slip up one day and call him by the wrong name, which would be a disaster. After all Lord Camden was not interested in romance.

  “While I enjoy watching your face twitch as you converse with yourself, others might find it odd,” Gretchen said.

  “Fine, let’s go in. My curiosity is winning over my fear.” Edith lifted her chin. As she’d told herself last night, the worst that could happen would be a kiss. And while her kissing Sir Archibald would be a burden to Lord Camden, it sounded rather pleasant to Edith. The closest she’d ever come to touching a man’s lips was when she’d been out riding with Lord Camden. A stolen kiss sounded lovely. Miles' face appeared in her mind’s eye. Edith quickly blew the image out of her head, but that still wasn’t enough to stop her cheeks from warming. She shouldn’t be daydreaming about Lord Camden as she waited to meet Sir Archibald.

  The green room was aptly named as it was decorated in a variety of shades of the same color. The drapes were a light lime while the couch was a dark forest green velvet. She sat down on the striped vermillion and chartreuse side chair in order to keep an acceptable distance from her visitor.

  Gretchen sat down on the other side of the room and pulled out a set of knitting needles and a skein of yarn. Edith watched her maid create row upon row of perfect stitches. She still had a quarter of an hour before the set meeting time, and Edith wished she’d thought ahead of time and brought a book or even some embroidery. Without them, all she was left to do was think about the two men in her life or stare out the window. She opted for the latter option and watched the trees blowing in the breeze. It was a cloudy day, without a trace of blue in the sky. Edith noticed the clouds were darker to the east and wondered if a storm was heading their way.

  She was observing a squirrel on a giant oak tree when she heard footsteps coming from the hall. Edith str
aightened her skirt, squared her shoulders, and tucked a stray strand of hair back into her bun. She turned and waited for him to enter.

  His tan breeches were molded to his muscular thighs and his cravat was perfectly folded. No lady in all of England would deny his good looks, yet her heart did not race in his presence. He was like a sculpted statue, and no matter how lovely the marble was it couldn’t compare to the cragged and wrinkled face of a real man. Edith smiled, and greeted Sir Archibald then asked, “I haven’t long before I am needed elsewhere, so what pray tell would you like to discuss with me in private?”

  He stepped in front of her and put his hand out, waiting for her to take it. Edith placed her gloved hand in his, and he bent down and kissed it. Her hand warmed, but just the day before the same hand had been in contact with the warm and velvety soft lips of Lord Camden. Then her hand had trembled and her body had instantaneously responded; how cold this kiss seemed in comparison. “I simply wish to drink in your beauty with my eyes and tell you how much I admire your bold spirit. I cannot help wishing to spend more and more time in your company.”

  “What is it about me, in particular, that you admire?” This was the reason she’d decided to come. She wanted to know if there was any sincerity in him. The only reason she hadn’t fully committed to Lord Camden was the tiny hope in the back of her mind that still wanted a husband that loved her. A foolish desire.

  “I love the way you move ever so gracefully. Your skin is so pale, it reflects the light and your eyes are like lustrous gems that sparkle when you smile.”

  All lovely things to say, but they felt hollow and false to her ears. “I am glad to hear you like my exterior, but what of the interior? You hardly know me at all.”

  “Love needs no reason. It was an instantaneous spark that burnt my heart and now I can see only you.” He came closer and brushed her cheek with his finger. Edith stepped back.

  Nothing.

  She felt nothing for this beautiful man. His hand on her face was warm but it didn’t consume her every thought. Not like Lord Camden.

  Edith looked at Sir Archibald in his azure eyes and said, “I should not have come. Yet I cannot help but be grateful I did. In meeting you here I have come to a realization. My heart doesn’t beat for you.”

  Edith rushed out of the room; the air was hot and thick. I am not in love. I barely know Miles… No. Lord Camden. A few nice words and sweet moments are not reason enough to fall in love. Is it? Edith realized she hadn’t been breathing for several seconds and took in a deep lungful of air. She could handle this. IF she was in love, then all she needed to do is make him care about her.

  Miles heard the thunder before the storm hit. The clouds grew in thickness as the sky darkened. It was not going to be a little flurry. No, they were in for a good long blizzard. The servants hurried to get all the animals inside the stables and to latch down and secure any loose items. Miles was proud of how smoothly his estate ran.

  Mother walked up to him from the other side of the room. Her hair and clothes were in pristine condition, but the dark circles under her eyes gave away her worries. “How are you holding up, Mother?” he asked, “I know you’ve never been comfortable with lightning and thunder.”

  “It brings me right back to the two worst days of my life. The day my mother died and the night your father’s carriage overturned in the rain. Both days were rough weather like this, and both storms stole someone I loved.”

  “Which is why your idea of having a winter picnic in the conservatory seems unwise to me. Seeing the storm directly will only make matters worse. Why don’t you cancel it?”

  “Nonsense! I have a plan. First, the party will not begin until the snow starts falling gently from the sky. By that point, the lightning and thunder will be over, and all that is left is the peace you feel from watching the white flakes finish their journey from the heavens to our beloved Earth. Second, being around others and hosting something keeps my mind from turning melancholy.”

  Another round of thunder made Mother flinch, and Miles leaned forward and kissed her soft papery cheek. “I will be here for you as well, should the evening become too difficult.”

  “The best thing you can do for me, son, is to fall in love. Are there any ladies that have attracted your attention of late?”

  “It has only been a few days since we last had this same conversation,” Miles protested.

  “True, yet I know for a fact that love can bloom even over the course of an evening. Now, answer my question.”

  “I have crossed off a few of the ladies here that Grace and I both feel are too self-centered.”

  “Romance isn’t about thinking things through rationally, dear. Don’t just consider what Grace wants, she’ll be happy when you are happy. Is there anyone you enjoy talking to, who makes you excited?”

  Miles sighed. He couldn’t decide if it would be better to lie to Mother and say he was falling madly in love or to tell the truth that he didn’t want to relinquish his heart and be vulnerable to attack again. “There is one who I have taken an interest in, yet my heart is slow to trust. As you know, I have had a bad experience with love. It is easier for me to think about choosing a wife with my mind instead of my heart.”

  “Miles. You need to stop that this instant. You cannot let Louisa ruin both your past and your future. You are ready to move on, and the only way to truly do that is to fall madly in love and enjoy every moment you have. You do not need to marry any of these ladies if they do not heal your broken heart.”

  “I will try, but I will not make any promises I cannot keep.” A maid entered the room with a few questions for Mother about the picnic. While she was busy, Miles bid her farewell and slipped out of the room. He wandered over to the drawing room where a handful of guests were playing cards.

  Edith was sitting next to her mother, looking miserable. Her head was hanging low as though she’d just been reprimanded and her eyes lacked their usual sparkle of amusement. Miles joined a table to her left when his uncle Marshall waved him over. Marshall, Mr. Wilson, and Miss Trimble had recently lost a member to their table and were happy to have him to even out their numbers.

  Miss Trimble dealt the next hand and Miles played half-heartedly. He couldn’t help but listen in to the conversation between Edith and her mother. The first thing he heard was Mrs. Wilson saying, “I don’t know why my sister chose that dress for you, puce drains all color from your face and makes you look ghostly. Plus the neckline is too high, you look matronly.”

  “I’m sure you would have picked out a better dress, Mama, but I am content with what I have currently. I enjoyed staying with Aunt Margaret, she was very kind to buy me a new wardrobe.”

  “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me like the plague? You wish Margaret was your mother.” Mrs. Wilson stretched out her sister’s name in a high pitched tone.

  “Not at all. I just think the two of you should reconcile. It’s not as though you even live in the same city anymore, and you only see each other every few years. Isn’t it time to put old hurts behind you and move on?” Edith asked.

  Her mother snorted. “I don’t know what my sister has said, but it is not a simple grievance. Now straighten your back and hold your head up. You’re drooping, and I’m pretty sure Lord Camden was looking over this way.”

  “It’s your turn, Camden,” Uncle Marshall said.

  Miles had completely lost track of the game before him. He put down a card and tried to pay less attention to Edith and her mother. But the constant stream of Mrs. Wilson berating her daughter was too hard to ignore. Each time she said something hurtful, he waited for Edith to stand up for herself, but she never did.

  Miles was practically fuming by the end of the next hand. He couldn’t listen anymore, and he had no right to butt in and tell Mrs. Wilson that she should be kinder to her own daughter. Instead, he excused himself and left.

  Edith watched Miles as he walked out of the drawing room. His coat matched the gray-green of his eyes and the bree
ches were perfectly molded to his muscular legs. He looked wonderful from all angles and she longed to talk to him, instead of listening to her Mama’s inane chatter.

  Edith played a few more hands before it was time to get ready for the winter picnic that was planned to start in an hour. Mama followed her to her room and insisted on helping her pick out an outfit and plan her accessories.

  She tried to tune out the barrage of negative comments that came as she tried one dress on after another. They finally settled on her purple day dress with green trim. “The color will match well with Camden and it makes your eyes seem larger than they actually are. Now we just need to make sure your hair is styled correctly. If it’s not done right, your hair quickly loses its shape and begins to look limp.”

  Edith nodded and held her tongue. It was more important to be on Mama’s good side than to stand up for herself. Wasn’t it? One day Mama would accept her. If she married Miles, Mama might even love her. Wasn’t that the reason she followed Mama to his hunting lodge all those months ago? To win her respect and affection. If that is the case, then how could she tell if she loved him or the thought of him? Would she care for him if he wasn’t rich and titled?

  Edith stared at her reflection in the mirror as Mama placed various earrings and necklaces up to her face to see how they matched with her dress. What did she like about the earl? Edith decided to make a list. That would help her sort out her own feelings. First, she liked the way he talked to her. He spoke with her as though she was intelligent and he listened to the things she said. Second, he was handsome, and she could look at him all day and never tire of his face. Third, Gracie was adorable and sweet. Fourth, he sought her out and didn’t seem to hate her appearance. Though she didn’t think he was actually attracted to her. Did that matter?