Brides of London: Regency Romance Collection Read online

  “Perhaps then my reputation will have been well enough restored that I might begin to seek out a bride,” he said slowly, wanting Lady Starling to realize that he had meant what he had said the first time she had suggested sharing her affections with him. “That was to be my sole purpose this Season and may so be again.”

  Lady Starling sighed, but this time she appeared quite contented. “But of course, Lord Ancrum, I quite understand. You are so wonderful, so delightful, and so patient that I must believe that I have been blessed by God in heaven to have known you as my friend.”

  Joseph’s confusion and doubt began to fade as Lady Starling continued praising him, although he did attempt to tell her that she was doing it up much too brown. Lady Starling protested at once, claiming that he was not used to accepting a compliment or two and that she, therefore, would have to make certain that he was aware of his true worth, and that any young lady thereafter whom he set his gaze upon should also be caught up with his good heart and his considerate behavior. This made Joseph blush furiously, his heart aching suddenly as he looked back at Lady Starling and felt himself questioning whether Miss Whitaker had any thought as regarded his supposedly ‘good’ heart. She knew the measure of him, did she not? She had seen his disregard, his stupidity, his foolishness as well as how he had tried to defend her in front of her father. What did she think of him?

  Letting out a heavy breath, Joseph settled his head in his hands for a moment whilst Lady Starling, disregarding him completely, began to wave and coo out of the window as though she were the prize performer and her acquaintances the adoring crowd. There was something about Lady Starling that Joseph was beginning to dislike. Yes, she was beautiful, but he feared that she had used that beauty to manipulate him somewhat. On top of which, Joseph feared that he had agreed to something he did not particularly wish to do. He did not want to go through Lord Paulson’s belongings in search of some papers or the like, for he had very little idea of what he might discover that would shame Lord Paulson in the same way that he had brought shame to others. But somehow, he had agreed to it, and now it seemed there was nothing else for him to do but go on as Lady Starling had planned.

  Lifting his head, Joseph let his gaze settle on the view from the carriage window. The park was crowded and the carriage moved slowly, so that they might take everyone in. He tried to put himself in Lady Starling’s place, considering just how fearful she must have been when Lord Paulson had first approached her. Given that she had satisfied his first demand for money, it was more than likely that Lord Paulson would demand more from her whenever he wished, meaning that she was going to be entirely unable to untangle herself from his clutches unless they did something. No wonder she appeared so contented and happy now. She had finally found some hope that she might be freed from her torment, which could well be the first hope she had felt in some time. Joseph nodded to himself, realizing that he had come across as a trifle selfish with his first consideration. He should be glad to help her in any way he could, as any true gentleman might. He would not accept any of her warm embraces by way of thanks, however, for he knew full well that Lady Starling might well offer them to him even though he had made himself quite clear that he would be doing nothing more than seeking a wife once his reputation was fully restored.

  Just then, his gaze snagged on one particular face. A shudder ran through him as he saw Miss Whitaker gazing at him, her eyes a little narrowed. Closing his eyes, Joseph let out a slight groan, knowing precisely what Miss Whitaker must think of him riding with Lady Starling. Had he not promised that he was doing all he could to attempt to reform himself? And had he not already proven himself to be something of a fool in his lack of consideration for her and his attitude towards her when they had spoken of Lord Paulson? Just how little she would think of him now.

  Forcing his eyes open, he looked back at the lady and saw how she frowned, her face still turned towards the slow-moving carriage. A strong desire began to build within him—a desire to sort matters out between them so that he could continue to do as he had promised. It was meant to be his way of making amends for his complete lack of disregard for knocking her down in the street, and thus far, he had managed to drive a strong wedge between them with his poor attitude and his frustration.

  “Is something the matter, Lord Ancrum?”

  Lady Starling’s singsong voice held no concern whatsoever and Joseph managed a grim smile in her direction, shaking his head. “No, indeed not, Lady Starling. Do forgive me if I have disturbed you from your conversation.” He could see a gentleman walking alongside the carriage who looked a trifle frustrated that Lady Starling had turned her attention to Joseph instead of remaining on him, and so he gestured back towards the fellow. “I am quite contented in my own thoughts, I assure you.”

  My own troubling thoughts, he mused to himself, as Lady Starling gave him another cursory glance before turning back to the other gentleman. Stifling yet another groan, Joseph turned his head back towards the window and let the weight of his thoughts bring another deep heaviness to his soul. He had made a muddle of almost everything he had put his mind to. Having knocked Miss Whitaker over, he had sought to make amends so that she would not spread her story amongst the ton and, in doing so, smear his reputation still more. However, he had only managed to make her believe he was an arrogant, rude sort who cared nothing for her own thoughts and determinations. Now, he feared that she might speak of what she knew to her many new acquaintances, meaning that he would be entirely lost. He had wanted to help Lady Starling in some way but had ended up agreeing to something that was a good deal more serious than he had intended where a lot could go wrong and he could find himself at the edge of scandal once more. Goodness, he was not making things particularly easy for himself.

  “I will explain all, Miss Whitaker,” he murmured, finding that it was she and not Lady Starling that held the bulk of his thoughts. “And I pray that, once again, you will forgive my foolishness and permit me another chance to show you the sort of gentleman I wish to be.”

  8

  It had surprised Lydia just how much she had felt upon seeing Lord Ancrum in the carriage with Lady Starling. Of course, she had told herself, it should not matter one iota what Lord Ancrum did or who he chose to spend his time with, but somehow the sight of him seated opposite from Lady Starling—well known to be a warm and welcoming young widow—had quite torn at her heart.

  It ought to have simply confirmed to her that she had made a mistake in believing that Lord Ancrum had wanted to regain his respectability in its entirety, but instead of being practically minded about it, she had felt a deep, unrelenting sorrow that had not left her in the last two days.

  However, she told herself, as the carriage drew up to Lord Paulson’s townhouse, she ought to be grateful that some good had come her way. Lord Paulson had seemed fairly eager to further his acquaintance with her and had invited her to his musical soiree—along with her mother, of course. Had it not been for the fact that Lord Paulson had sent Lady Templeton her own individual invitation, with an additional private note that had seemed to flatter the lady in some way, Lydia was not quite certain that Lady Templeton would have been willing to attend with her. However, as things stood, they were about to go in together to what Lydia hoped would be an enjoyable evening.

  “This Lord Paulson has taken a bit of a fancy to you, has he?” Lady Templeton asked, her voice a little shrill. “I must say, I am surprised.”

  Lydia said nothing, hearing the hardness of her mother’s voice and letting the snide remark pass without further comment.

  “He seems most amiable, however,” Lady Templeton continued, as the carriage steps were set down and the door opened. “I must hope that you do not set any store by his attentions, Lydia. He is, from what I have learned, something of a flirt. He seems to have a great many acquaintances and they all care for him deeply.” She threw a questioning look towards Lydia, who kept her face impassive. “You do not stand out in any way, dear girl. Do not ex
pect him to fall over himself in an attempt to court you.”

  Lydia, who had not even permitted herself a single thought about Lord Paulson and the possibility of matrimony, merely shrugged and waited for her mother to climb down from the carriage. She considered Lord Paulson to be a gentleman with excellent conversation and a warm manner, but thereafter, Lydia was not quite certain what to make of him. There was, on occasion, a hardness about his eyes that frightened her, although it had never once been directed towards her.

  Climbing out of the carriage, Lydia set her shoulders and walked up the stone steps towards the front door, which was opened for them before they had reached the top step.

  “How lovely,” Lady Templeton said warmly as she walked into the townhouse and looked all about her. “Lord Paulson seems to be quite refined in his tastes.”

  Lydia opened her mouth to say that the décor was not that different to their own abode, but before she could say a word, the voice of Lord Paulson himself could be heard.

  “Indeed I am, Lady Templeton,” he said, striding from one room towards them. A murmur of voices and laughter could be heard as he gestured for them both to come into what Lydia presumed was the parlor. “I thank you for your consideration.” His eyes caught Lydia’s, who gave him a quick smile which was returned. Lord Paulson cleared his throat, standing by the door and inclining his head. “I am very glad to see you both. Good evening, Lady Templeton. Good evening, Miss Whitaker.”

  “Good evening, Lord Paulson,” Lydia replied, glancing up at him before she walked through the door and into one of the largest drawing rooms she had ever seen.

  It was lavish. There were candelabras in every corner, and more wherever they could be safely placed, lending a brightness to the room that was so often lacking in other homes. There hung large paintings on the wall and plush rugs hugged the thick carpet which lay on the floor at her feet. They were so thick that Lydia could feel her feet sinking into them as she escorted her mother to a seat by the small fire that seemed quite unnecessary in a room so filled with candles. She glanced up to see a large tapestry on one wall, the reflection of which was in the ornate mirror above the fireplace. All in all, it gave the impression that Lord Paulson was both wealthy and refined in ways that many could not boast of.

  “I am so very glad you were able to attend,” Lord Paulson said, coming up behind Lydia and making her shiver with his sudden nearness—although it was a shiver that spoke of an aversion of his closeness to her. Recalling how she had seen him speak to others of his acquaintance, Lydia feared that he might now seek to make her behave as they did in giving him whatever he wished, no matter how much they did not want to.

  “Thank you for your invitation,” she replied calmly, turning about to face him. “And what is it that we are to listen to this evening?”

  Lord Paulson grinned. “I have four different performances prepared from four different groups of performers,” he replied, making her aware of just how much he seemed to revel in doing more than any other gentleman might. “And thereafter, some of my acquaintances have prepared a piece to perform for us. I know that they will not fail to bring great delight to all who hear them.”

  Lydia tried to look interested, whilst inwardly wondering if any of them had been told, rather than encouraged, to do as Lord Paulson wished. “It sounds quite remarkable,” she told him, seeing him smile and turn his head to one side, as though she might think better of him if she regarded him from this particular angle. “I look forward to it, Lord Paulson.”

  “As do I,” he replied with a sudden, swift bow that made her catch her breath in surprise. “And I do hope to converse with you again later this evening, Miss Whitaker.”

  Before Lydia could say another word, Lord Paulson had left her side and had moved to speak to someone new. He was the most extraordinary of gentlemen and she still had very little idea as to the truth of his character. It was as though he hid himself behind a façade that never once seemed to crack. Lydia did not much like the feeling that she did not know the true Lord Paulson and, therefore, decided inwardly that she did not care much for the fellow himself.

  “I did tell you, Lydia.”

  Her mother came near to her, shaking her head solemnly, but Lydia took no particular notice.

  “I did warn you that, from what I have heard, Lord Paulson likes to show attention to a good number of ladies, which is, as you now see, precisely what he is doing.”

  Lydia sighed inwardly and glanced towards Lord Paulson, only to stop and stare at the lady in question. She was none other than Lady Starling and, much to her shock, she saw Lord Ancrum standing with the lady. Her stomach turned over. She had thought that Lord Ancrum would wish to ensure that his reputation remained spotless, given that he had stated such a thing clearly to her on more than one occasion, but now here he was standing with a lady who was known to be free with her favors. A rush of anger mixed with pain bit at her heart, before settling as a tight ball in her stomach. Trying to tell herself that she cared nothing for Lord Ancrum and that she was more displeased with him than anything else, she could not quite pretend that his presence here meant nothing to her. Beside her, her mother droned on about how Lydia would be best to simply give up her ideas of any gentleman showing her any sort of attention and resign herself to the fact that she would be a spinster set to continue her life as it was at present—which was nothing more than doing as her mother bade her whenever the mood took Lady Templeton to behave so.

  “Do be silent, Mother!”

  Whirling about, Lydia felt her fists clench as anger began to climb through every part of her being.

  “I have had enough of hearing how I am not good enough for either you or father or for any gentleman I might be lucky enough to make the acquaintance of,” she hissed, keeping her voice low for the sake of her own reputation. “You have no consideration for me, Mother, other than to consider how I might be used in order to satisfy your whims.”

  Lady Templeton opened her mouth as though to speak, her face slowly turning white, but Lydia held up one hand, ready to stop her. She had never spoken in such a way to her mother before, but the sight of Lord Ancrum and Lady Starling together, yet again, had set alight her long-held fury towards her mother’s treatment of her.

  “I do not need to know how poorly you believe my chances of securing a happy marriage to be, Mother, for I am well able to see such a thing for myself. However, I have come to realize that my lack of success thus far has been solely down to your lack of interest in aiding me in such a thing. I have been resigned to the shadows, ensuring that I behave with propriety at all times, but I have come to see that you care nothing for my behavior, just so long as I do not become mired in scandal. You have, mayhap, used my quietness and my lack of determination to aid you in your hope that I shall remain as I am now, unwed and solely at your disposal.” She drew in a long breath, closing her eyes and feeling herself tremble all over with all that was pouring out of her. “But no more, Mother. I need to hear no more of it from you. I shall do as I please and go about society as I wish in the hope that I might, eventually, find someone who will consider me.”

  Lady Templeton snorted, lifting her chin and looking away from Lydia, but not before Lydia saw the trembling of her mother’s chin. Clearly Lydia had more than shocked her.

  “And what makes you think, you ungrateful girl, that I shall permit this?” Lady Templeton asked, still not looking at Lydia. “Once I have spoken to your father—”

  “If you attempt to curtail my social outings, Mother, then I shall ensure that Father knows of your latest… difficulties.”

  Lady Templeton frowned, her smirk disappearing from her face. “I am quite certain that I do not know what you refer to, Lydia,” she told her stiffly. “I—”

  “But you told me, Mother, that you owed a good deal after your game of cards some days ago,” Lydia interrupted, the words tasting foul in her mouth as she fought to keep her guilt at bay. She did not want to blackmail her mother, but she
did not want to remain living with her mother and father either, forced to care for them as age began to catch their limbs. That future was nothing but darkness, whereas her one chance to escape it now lay before her. “I am quite certain that Father would not be pleased to hear of such a thing.”

  Lady Templeton went puce, staring at Lydia as though she did not know who she was.

  “I shall no longer be at your beck and call, Mother,” Lydia continued, finding her courage rising up within her as her mother remained silent and completely still. “I have determined that I shall seek out a life of my own, with or without your help. And I shall not be held back from it.” Without waiting for her mother to speak, Lydia whirled around and made her way to the door, not knowing where she was going, but feeling as though she needed to escape from her mother’s presence completely for a time.

  Out in the hallway, Lydia felt herself begin to shake. The shock of what she had done began to wash over her, her eyes widening as she recalled precisely what she had said to her mother. It had come from a strength that she had not known she had, and whilst she did not regret saying any of it, she disliked that she had had to use such means to forge her own path.

  The urge to sit down and catch her breath took a tight hold and Lydia began to move forward quickly, not having any particular idea of where she was going, but knowing that she needed to find solace somewhere. One door was ajar and she pushed it open carefully, peering inside and finding it to be entirely empty. It was a small parlor, which had a warm fire blazing, and Lydia hurried towards it gratefully. Sitting down in a comfortable seat, she closed her eyes and concentrated on drawing in long, slow breaths, telling herself that everything would be quite all right. Her mind turned back to Lord Ancrum, but Lydia continued to force him from her mind, not allowing herself to think on him. It was most peculiar to keep considering him, even though they had not had a long acquaintance, and certainly very strange to have had such a strong reaction to his presence here with Lady Starling.