Regency Engagements Box Set

by Charlotte Fitzwilliam

  “I cannot,” he stated loudly. “I cannot do such a thing to him.” He shook his head before burying his face in his hands, unaware and uncaring about who about him saw his distress. Anthony felt as though he had been forced to dig down into the soil, deeper and deeper, until there would be space for him to climb in and be lost to the world. If he did not do as Lord Hollander said, then the consequences would be severe. But if he did as was asked, then Lord Thompson would find himself wed to some harpy that he did not care for. Anthony knew all too well that his friend had often argued with his mother that he would find himself a bride, when the time came. Of course, Thompson was forever declaring himself in love with one lady and then the next, but he had never truly mentioned anything such as matrimony. It was as though Lord Thompson was waiting for someone to take over his heart in a way that he had never before felt.

  Lady Ward.

  Anthony groaned aloud and let his hands drop to his sides. Lord Thompson was, in fact, quite taken with Lady Ward. Anthony had not seen him so caught up before and, even though he had never thought much of it, now wondered if this might be a potential bride for Lord Thompson. It would not suit Lady Thompson, certainly, but then again, Anthony had always encouraged his friend to pursue his own path instead of seeking to do as he was expected by his mother. Thus far, Lord Thompson had done precisely that, but now it seemed that Lady Thompson was going to do all she could to prevent such a thing from continuing. In choosing a specific young lady – whether she was party to the idea of being “forced” into marriage with Lord Thompson or not – Lady Thompson was doing all she could to have her demands met. If Anthony did as he was told, then Lord Thompson could find himself shackled to a lady who cared nothing for him, and for whom he cared nothing either. It was not something he could bring himself to do, not when they had been fast friends for so long.

  “It seems you are in something of a bind, Lord Fitzpatrick.”

  Closing his eyes, Anthony let out another soft groan, hearing the gentle voice of Lady Stanley behind him.

  “I have overheard some of your conversation, I confess,” she continued, as though unaware of the torture she was causing his soul simply by speaking. “And after what I saw last evening, I must think that you are in some sort of difficulty, my lord.

  “I am in more difficulty than you know,” he stated hopelessly, slowly turning around to face her although he could barely lift his head to look into her eyes.

  “You have never spoken of this difficulty to anyone?” she asked, her eyes fixed upon his. Anthony felt as though the answers were being pulled from him without hesitation, unable to prevent himself from telling her the truth.

  “I have not,” he stated, seeing the softness of her expression and feeling it sear his soul. “I have never been able to do to so. My poor wife…” He shook his head and pressed one hand over his eyes, regret filling him. “Yes, Lady Stanley, I am wed. It is torturous to know that I have left her alone for these past years with no knowledge of what I am enduring. I cannot imagine what she must think of me.”

  There was a long silence. Anthony could not remove his hand from his eyes, fearing that she might hold such an expression of scorn and derision that he could not bear to see it. Why he had told her about his wife, why he had spoken to her of the difficulties that entrapped him, he did not know, but it was not as though he could take such words back from his lips now.

  “My dear Lord Fitzpatrick,” he heard Lady Stanley say, her voice gentle although it held a slight tremor. “You must tell someone all that is on your mind. I shall be that someone, if you so wish.”

  His hand fell to his side, and he looked at her, seeing something flickering in her eyes. Was it hope? Hope for what?

  “I may not be able to offer you any particular advice,” she finished, a trifle hesitantly, “but I can offer you a listening ear and a compassionate heart.”

  Nodding, Anthony tried to regain a little of his composure, feeling helplessness and regret swamp him. “I would accept both from you gratefully,” he vowed, honestly. “You are very good, Lady Stanley.”

  She smiled and turned so that they might walk together. “Shall we take a turn through the park?” she asked, as he fell into step beside her. “It is nearby, and it might give us the opportunity to sit together and discuss all that is troubling you.”

  Anthony nodded, surprised to feel his heart lift just a little as he looked at her. “I should be glad to do so,” he replied, finding that he meant every word he spoke. “Thank you for being willing to listen to me, Lady Stanley. It is more than I expected after what you witnessed last evening.”

  A quiet laugh came from her lips, her face lighting up suddenly. “Do not think that I have made up my mind as regards your character, Lord Fitzpatrick,” she warned, her eyes growing a trifle serious. “I will listen to your explanation, yes, but if it does not satisfy me, then our acquaintance must come to an end.”

  “Then I must hope that you will understand,” he replied, finding himself almost desperate for her approval and sympathy. “And that, mayhap, you will be able to see a light where I see only darkness.”

  She nodded, her expression now grave. “Then begin, Lord Fitzpatrick.”

  6

  Arabella had very nearly blurted out to Lord Fitzpatrick that she was, in fact, his wife, but something in his expression had stopped her from doing so. She had to remind herself that she did not know this gentleman well at all, and that his grief and regret might be nothing more than a charade that he put on in order to avail himself of her sympathy.

  The way he had spoken of her, however, without realizing that his wife was standing directly before him, had ripped at her heart. She had heard the pain in his voice and had wanted desperately to believe him, wanting to do all she could to aid him through this trouble and yet reminding herself that she still had to be on her guard. To reveal herself to him now might be utter folly. She was doing what Lady Landerbelt had suggested – drawing closer to her husband so that he would be willing to open up his heart to her and tell her the truth of these past few years.

  However, what she had overheard had made her heart clench with a sudden, deep fear. Lord Hollander – for that was what she had heard Lord Fitzpatrick call him – appeared to be an arrogant and cruel gentleman, who expected Lord Fitzpatrick to do as he asked without hesitation. For whatever reason, despite Lord Fitzpatrick’s unwillingness to do as he was asked, he had been unable to refuse entirely. There was something that Lord Hollander was holding over Lord Fitzpatrick’s head, something that the man was using to force her husband to do as he asked. As much as Arabella wanted to know what such a thing was, she feared that her husband had become entangled in something so serious that it might take a good deal of effort and strength to remove himself from it entirely.

  “My mother arranged my marriage,” Lord Fitzpatrick began, sending Arabella’s heart into a sudden flurry. “I was quite content with the lady myself, I will admit. I think what I had heard of her was all quite wonderful, even if she was timid.” A small, sad laugh came towards her. “I barely remember what she looked like now.” Shaking his head, he drew in a long breath. “I will be honest with you, Lady Stanley, and admit that I was in my cups on the day of my wedding.”

  Unable to help herself, Arabella drew in a sharp breath.

  “I have shocked you, I know,” Lord Fitzpatrick stated heavily. “I was, in fact, looking forward to my wedding day. It was not until Lord Hollander appeared at my door the night before that I found my happiness beginning to ebb away.”

  Arabella swallowed the ache in her throat, wanting desperately for her own pain to disappear. “I see,” she said hoarsely, wondering if Lord Fitzpatrick would suspect her in any way given her reaction to his explanation. “And what did Lord Hollander demand of you?” Closing her eyes for a moment, she took in a long, slow breath so as to steady herself. She wanted to know the truth, and yet his promise that he had been looking forward to marrying her had quite broken her heart. As
much as she wanted to believe him, she could not yet understand why a gentleman would then drink so much so that he could barely stand before the assembled guests to make his vows!

  “That is where my troubles began,” Lord Fitzpatrick replied in a dull voice. “Are you quite certain you wish to hear this, Lady Stanley?” He paused in his steps, and Arabella was forced to come to a stop beside him. His eyes searched hers, the agony in his expression biting at her heart so that compassion poured out from it.

  “I am glad to listen,” she said, unable to prevent herself from reaching out and pressing his hand with her own gloved one, albeit for just a moment. “You say you have not spoken of this to another living soul and I can see that keeping silent, as you have done, has quite torn at you.”

  “It has.” Closing his eyes, Lord Fitzpatrick took in three somewhat shaky breaths, opened his eyes and then offered her his arm.

  Arabella took it at once, finding sparks flying up her arm and sending her whole body tingling with delight. Steeling herself against such feelings, she cleared her throat and threw a glance up towards Lord Fitzpatrick. “Lord Hollander then.”

  He nodded. “Yes, indeed. Lord Hollander. Well, he…he came to me with some distressing news about…” His words came to a stop, his mouth pressing together into a thin line. “Lady Stanley, I know that we are not particularly well acquainted as yet, but I must have your word that you will not reveal any of this to another of your acquaintance. Not even to Lady Ward.”

  A little surprised, she looked up into his face. “I will not say this to anyone,” she promised, even though she knew that it would be rather difficult to keep such things from Cecelia and from Lady Landerbelt. “If you do not wish me to do so, that is. I am not one inclined towards rumor and the like, Lord Fitzpatrick.”

  This seemed to satisfy him for the moment, for he gave her a tight, jerky nod and then resumed his conversation.

  “The news Lord Hollander approached with has to do with my mother, Lady Fitzpatrick,” he said, his voice becoming a trifle hoarse. “It was quite shocking in its own way, for he stated that he had evidence of a dalliance between my mother and another gentleman.”

  Arabella sucked in a breath, awash with the shock of hearing such a thing spoken aloud.

  “It is not as though this occurred when my father passed away or any such thing,” Lord Fitzpatrick continued heavily. “Rather, it came at a time before I was born.”

  “Good gracious,” Arabella breathed, realizing the true extent of what such a rumor or such evidence could do. “Therefore, your entitlement to the title and the fortune would be brought into question.”

  “That is correct,” Lord Fitzpatrick replied, shaking his head. “Not that I care about such things as that, for I think I could easily quash such suggestions, but the shame that would be brought upon my mother is more than I could bear. She was entirely devoted to my father, I am quite certain of it, even though he could be somewhat intimidating and rather angry at times.” Shaking his head, he let out a long, heavy sigh. “I must do what I can to protect her, and yet I find that, in doing so, I am the one who has become tied up in rumor, gossip, and fear.”

  Arabella shook her head, shock running through her. Little wonder that Lord Fitzpatrick felt as he did, given that she could not see any clear way for him to free himself from Lord Hollander’s threats.

  “Lord Hollander has, therefore, used me as he pleases,” Lord Fitzpatrick continued gruffly, as though he were trying to cover his emotions. “I have not had any other choice but to do as he asks, simply for the sake of saving my mother’s reputation. You must not think that I do this in order to save myself, for as I have said, I can easily deal with rumor and gossip and the like and am certainly able to refute any suggestion that I am not the true heir.” He shrugged, as though it meant nothing when, in truth, Arabella knew that it held a great deal of seriousness. “My father was quite clear in his last will and testament, and it showed no doubt that I was not his legitimate heir.”

  “And you do not have a younger brother or the like?”

  He shook his head. “None. My parents produced only one child, so therefore the question of legitimacy hangs over my head only. My mother will find it deeply upsetting to hear of such rumors and the like at this stage, whether or not there is any truth to it.”

  Arabella shook her head to herself, thinking that Lord Hollander was, in fact, a deeply cruel and selfish gentleman, who evidently took great pleasure in using others in any way he wished.

  “Lord Hollander has become known as the gentleman who can procure anything you might wish,” Lord Fitzpatrick finished, shaking his head before rubbing at his eyes with one hand. “The ton does not know that I, however, am the gentleman at work to get such a thing for them.”

  “I see,” Arabella said, beginning to feel exceedingly sorry for Lord Fitzpatrick and, without realizing it, finding that her frustration and anger towards him for abandoning her these last three years beginning to wash away. “And therefore, you have spoken to no one of your difficulties with Lord Hollander.”

  Lord Fitzpatrick nodded and looked away. “The warning was clear,” he stated. “Should I speak to anyone, should I tell anyone of what Lord Hollander asked of me, then my mother’s reputation was in peril. I am taking a great risk in speaking of this to you, Lady Stanley, but how could I not when you saw me as you did last evening?” He lapsed into silence, his regret and frustration so visible it could almost be touched.

  A cool summer breeze touched Arabella’s cheeks as they walked together. Her mind was filled with thoughts and ideas, hopes, and furious anger directed towards Lord Hollander. Walking arm in arm with Lord Fitzpatrick did not seem strange or uncomfortable in any way. In fact, Arabella considered that there was a growing intimacy between them, which, although it had been forced upon them both by what she had witnessed, Arabella realized that she was quite glad of it in a way.

  The park was quiet, and Arabella walked alongside her husband in silence for some minutes, silently wondering whether or not she should declare her true identity to him. Her heart was pounding furiously in her chest, her mouth going dry as she opened it in order to speak those terrifying yet wonderous words.

  “Lord Fitzpatrick, I–”

  “And now I am to damage my very dear friend’s reputation in order to have him marry the lady of his mother’s choosing!” Lord Fitzpatrick suddenly exclaimed, throwing one arm wide in exasperation and anger. “What am I to do, Lady Stanley? I cannot have Lord Thompson’s hand forced, and yet that is precisely what I am to do if I am to continue to secure my mother’s safe reputation.”

  “Lord Hollander has been holding you hostage for some time, I think,” Arabella replied softly. “There must be a way to remove his grip from you.”

  Lord Fitzpatrick sighed and shot her a pained look. “If only that were the case, Lady Stanley. But if he ‘removes his grip’ from me, as you put it, then no doubt he will soon find another to do his work for him. If I could, I would put an end to his ways for good. I just cannot think of a way to do so.”

  “Then I think that you must permit others to know of your dilemma,” Arabella stated firmly, seeing the way alarm jumped into his blue eyes. “You have been battling this alone for much too long, Lord Fitzpatrick, so it is little wonder that you have struggled in vain.”

  He stopped and turned to face her, his face wreathed with anxiety. “I cannot,” he stated firmly. “I cannot say a word, for fear that—”

  “That someone will speak of it to another, and that soon Lord Hollander will discover that you have been speaking of it to others?” she interrupted, putting her hand on his arm. “You need not fear everyone, surely? You have a dear friend in Lord Thompson, from what it seems. Why not be honest with him and speak to him of the trouble you face?”

  Lord Fitzpatrick closed his eyes. “He will think so very poorly of me.”

  “He may not,” Arabella replied slowly, looking at him carefully and feeling her heart wrench in
her chest. “He may understand what you have been faced with and realize that you had very little choice but to do as you were asked. There may be more sympathy than you can imagine.”

  “I hardly think so,” he replied, his head low and his eyes downcast. “You are the very first person I have spoken to of this, Lady Stanley – you, whom I am not even particularly well acquainted with!” This seem to catch his attention for a moment, for his eyes rested on where her hand had settled on his arm before lifting to her face. “I do not know you at all, Lady Stanley, and yet I have found compassion and understanding in you. I cannot say with confidence that I will find the same in Lord Thompson, or to any of the others to whom I may speak.”

  Arabella hesitated, choosing her words carefully before she continued. “You must have a little more faith in your companions, Lord Fitzpatrick,” she said, pausing for a moment. “For I think that Lord Thompson would be grateful to know what his mother and Lord Hollander are intending instead of holding onto any sort of horror or shock that you have been forced to do as Hollander asks these last three years. I think there will be an expression of sorrow that you have not been able to speak to him of your troubles before now, for I am certain that he will wish to help you.”

  Lord Fitzpatrick held her gaze for what felt like a good many minutes. He did not look away but continued to allow his eyes to cling to hers, as though trying to judge whether or not her words could be trusted.

  “I care for Lady Ward very deeply,” Arabella added, as though this would make a difference to Lord Fitzpatrick. “I do not want her to be drawn towards Lord Thompson only to be thrown aside when it becomes clear that he is forced to marry another. She will think the worst of him, and I would not have that. Come now, Lord Fitzpatrick.” Her hand tightened on his arm, and she looked up earnestly into his face. “You must be able to see that you are better to stand alongside your friends than to continue to battle this alone.”