Brides of London: Regency Romance Collection Page 45

  He nodded slowly, his face lit by the moonlight that seemed to brighten all about them, as though seeking to envelop them in particular. “Your heart, Miss Smallwood… what does it say?”

  She smiled tenderly, taking a small step back so that she could look into his face. His eyes were gentle now, with every trace of anxiety and fear gone from his expression. Louisa took one hand in hers, feeling her heart quicken and enjoying the tumult of sensations that rushed through her at his touch.

  “My heart wanted to believe that everything I knew of you was the truth,” she told him, seeing him smile. “I wanted to believe that you were honest, that the words you spoke and the affections you presented were entirely true. And yet, there came so much trying to force me to do the very opposite.”

  He nodded, clearly not holding anything against her. “I can well understand that,” he replied quietly. “And I am sorry that I could not tell you the truth about Miss Martin. I had made her a promise that I would not reveal my connection to her, and by the time she returned to London with her charge, she looked and behaved so very differently that I fear only myself and Lord Townend recognized her.”

  Louisa put her free hand against his chest, not wanting him to feel any guilt whatsoever. “I understand why you could not break your promise,” she answered, her heart free of all fear and doubt. “I am glad that the truth has been revealed now, however, such is the happiness that I see in Christina’s eyes.”

  “And in Townend’s,” Lord Williamson replied with a chuckle, although he began to lower his head, to look into her eyes with a little more intensity. “It is a happiness I would seek for myself also, Louisa.”

  Her name spoken with such tenderness made Louisa’s heart jump in her chest, sending a flush of heat to her cheeks.

  “I would not hold myself back from you,” he continued, his words quick as though he could not wait another moment to speak them. “I would not keep a single word when it comes to telling you the truth about how I feel.” His hands took both of hers and raised them to his chest, as he held them tightly. “Lord Townend told me that I should not wait, that I should not hesitate when it came to telling you the truth about how I felt, and therefore, Louisa, I shall do so at this very moment.” Pausing for a long moment as if to regain some courage or to allow himself the time he needed so that he might find the perfect words, Lord Williamson raised her hands to his lips and kissed them.

  Louisa’s very soul seemed to burn with a passion that seared right through her, her breath escaping from her as a myriad of sensations coursed through her all the more. Her skin burned hot, her heart pounding so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

  “I love you,” Lord Williamson said softly, looking into her face earnestly as he lowered their joined hands again. “When the thought of losing you from my life was upon me, it was only then that I realized just how much I cared for you.”

  “And when I realized the truth,” Louisa interrupted, feeling the urge to speak of her own feelings growing within her steadily, “I knew then that there was nothing that need hinder my own affection for you, Williamson.” Her lips trembled as he began to lower his head, knowing what was coming and yet wanting to prolong the moment. “I have found a happiness with you that I did not even imagine was possible. My heart is yours, for it can never belong to another. And there is no need to ask. You know that my only hope is to become your wife.”

  His lips touched hers just as she finished speaking, enveloping her in a cloud of dazed excitement, wonder, and love. Leaning into him, she let his mouth play over hers, feeling such a joy that it could not be contained. Throwing her arms around his neck, she pulled him tighter, making Lord Williamson laugh softly against her mouth.

  “Your determination has seen you through, my love,” he murmured, his head still low. “You have sought the truth and you have found it. I cannot think of anything better than making you my bride.”

  * * *

  Bewildered Earl

  Brides of London

  Prologue

  “Lord Kingsley, I must not!”

  Miss Henrietta Preston blushed furiously as Lord Kingsley inclined his head, his eyes gleaming as he continued to look at her.

  “A short stroll around the gardens cannot be too much to ask, surely?” he murmured, looking at her in a beseeching fashion. “It is much too busy for anyone to notice; I am quite certain of it.”

  Again, Henrietta felt her cheeks burn with color, her defenses slowly diminishing as she looked up at the handsome face of Lord Kingsley and felt quite overawed that he would be interested in escorting her around the gardens. He was quite right, she supposed. It was very busy this evening and, most likely, they would not be missed. Her mother, Lady Cuthbert, would not even notice she was gone, given that she was already a terrible chaperone and cared very little for what Henrietta did. Henrietta had, of course, always sought to behave with propriety and yet could not help but feel Lord Kingsley’s presence and interest in her battling against the urge to always do what was right.

  “We will be but a few minutes,” Lord Kingsley said softly, offering her his arm and allowing his gaze to soften as he looked back at her. “There will be nothing untoward, I assure you.”

  Henrietta let out a small sigh and then smiled at him, wondering whether or not Lord Kingsley intended something more from this short walk together than merely stepping out for a time. Mayhap he would ask to court her. Mayhap he would ask for even more than that. After all, he had been rather attentive the last few days—to the point that Henrietta had begun to hope, beyond all hope, that she might mean something to the gentleman.

  “Very well,” she said, seeing how his face lit up with a grin as she spoke. “But only for a few short minutes, Lord Kingsley.” The warning in her heart began to rise up within her as she settled her hand on his arm, but Henrietta dashed it away with barely even another thought. Lord Kingsley could be trusted, could he not? He had been very attentive towards her and she did not think there was anything about his character that was of concern. He would return her to the ballroom within a few minutes, just as he had said, and all would be well.

  However, within a few minutes, Henrietta was regretting her trust in Lord Kingsley. He had taken her from the path and had walked with her to a darker part of the gardens, making her slippered feet quite wet from walking in the damp grass. He had not asked her to walk with him that way but had simply led her from the path, clearly believing that she would accept him without question. When she had tried to question it, he had merely laughed and settled his hand over hers as it rested on his arm, effectively trapping her there.

  Henrietta was afraid.

  “I want to return to the ballroom now, Lord Kingsley,” she said, somewhat unsteadily, as she tried to pull her hand away. “I do not have any intention of—”

  Before she could finish, however, Lord Kingsley had chuckled, turned around, and caught her up in his arms, lowering his head and trying to capture her lips with his. Henrietta tensed at once, feeling his lips press hers but having none of the joy or excitement she had thought she might feel at such an experience. Instead, she felt nothing but fear, wanting to step back out of his arms but feeling quite lifeless, quite weak, and, therefore, entirely unable to do so. It was only when Lord Kingsley lifted his head that Henrietta felt a modicum of strength return to her limbs and she stepped back, forcing Lord Kingsley to drop one of his hands although the other hand snagged her wrist.

  “I am not that sort of lady, Lord Kingsley,” she stammered, feeling sweat run down her spine as she battled against her fear. “Unhand me at once.”

  Lord Kingsley did nothing of the sort. Instead, he merely chuckled and tugged her back towards him, even though she fought to release herself from his grip. Henrietta, suddenly deeply afraid of the gentleman, pulled herself away as hard as she could, her breath coming in quick, short gasps, but Lord Kingsley only chuckled again, evidently taking great delight in her fear. Her skin grew clammy, her mind screamin
g with a deep sense of panic that made her heart hammer.

  “What is going on here?”

  Another voice cut through the gloom, making Henrietta’s skin prickle with fright.

  “Ah, Lady Starling!” Lord Kingsley did not appear to be in any way disconcerted by the appearance of the lady, who came to stand next to Henrietta. She looked down at Henrietta’s hand, held captive by Lord Kingsley, before looking up at the gentleman himself. “I recognized your voice at once, my dear lady. Do not fear for Miss Preston. She has come quite willingly.”

  “I am not willing to remain,” Henrietta exclaimed, somewhat breathlessly. “I do not have any intention of remaining here, Lord Kingsley. You know very well that I wish to leave your side. This was not what I thought your intentions were when we first—”

  “I believe the lady has made her requirements quite clear, Lord Kingsley,” Lady Starling interrupted, her very presence reassuring Henrietta. “Do allow her to depart from you and might I suggest that, thereafter, you find someone who is a good deal more willing to remain here with you than this poor creature, whom you have evidently terrified with your much too forward advances.”

  Henrietta staggered back as Lord Kingsley let go of her hand, swamped with relief and thankfulness towards this Lady Starling. Nothing more was said between herself and Lord Kingsley, for he simply let out a harsh laugh and turned away, walking through the darkness towards the ballroom again.

  “I—I cannot express the depths of my gratitude,” Henrietta breathed, her hand pressed against her heart as she heard herself gasping for air. “If you had not discovered us, then I fear that…” She closed her eyes and shuddered visibly, not even questioning for a moment how the lady had managed to find both herself and Lord Kingsley in what was a very dark part of the gardens. Mayhap God Himself had sent the lady to her, knowing her trouble and knowing that she needed to be rescued from her own foolishness.

  That relief was shattered the very next moment.

  “I shall keep what I have seen to myself, of course,” Lady Starling said firmly, her sharp voice cutting through the darkness towards Henrietta. “But you shall have to do something for me in exchange, Miss Preston.”

  Henrietta stared at the lady in the gloom, only just able to make out her expression in the moonlight as it cut through the tree branches over their heads.

  “In fact, you shall do whatever I wish, whenever I wish it of you,” Lady Starling continued calmly, as though she were quite used to making such demands and thought nothing of it. “Do you understand, Miss Preston?”

  Henrietta could only stare at the lady, slowly beginning to realize that mayhap there had been more to Lord Kingsley’s attentions than she had first been aware of.

  “Do you understand me, Miss Preston?” Lady Starling asked again, her voice sharp and her eyes narrowing. “I cannot return you to the ball unless I have your agreement. You know what will occur if you refuse me.”

  Swallowing the lump in her throat and battling the tears that came to her eyes, Henrietta tried to speak. “You intend to tell my mother of what I have done if I do not,” she said, speaking her thoughts aloud. “Is that not so?”

  Lady Starling laughed softly, shaking her head, and for a moment, Henrietta wondered if she had mistaken the lady’s intentions.

  “No, not your mother, my dear girl,” Lady Starling replied with a wave of her hand. “The entirety of the beau monde!” She laughed again as Henrietta doubled over, feeling as though she had been struck hard in the stomach. “The ton shall know of your foolishness this night and you shall be quite ruined. That is, of course, unless you agree to do as I ask you whenever I ask it of you, Miss Preston. Only that way can you be guaranteed my continued silence on the matter.”

  “Then you have it,” Henrietta replied faintly, seeing no other way out of her dreadful situation. “I agree, Lady Starling.” Her cheeks grew hot, her whole body burning with shame as she looked down at her feet, realizing that Lord Kingsley and Lady Starling had been working together in order to arrange such a thing. He had not had any particular interest in her. Instead, he had used flattery to encourage her and she had stepped forward into his embrace with barely a second thought.

  “Very good,” Lady Starling said with a hint of sweetness that sickened Henrietta. “Now, come along, Miss Preston. I shall return you to the ball and to your mother and no one will know of what has occurred here this evening. And I thank you for your assistance in this matter. It has all worked out rather well, do you not think?”

  Henrietta could not bring herself to say anything. Instead, she remained silent as she walked alongside Lady Starling, her shame burning furiously through her. She had been taken advantage of, had been caught by flattery and the desperate hope that a gentleman of quality was interested in her, and now she had been left with nothing more than mortification and embarrassment. Her head low, Henrietta made her way back to the path, each step heavier than before. She had been utterly foolish and now she was to pay the price for her idiocy. Lady Starling held her head high as she walked, whilst Henrietta’s head sank all the lower. There was no way out from this now. She would have to do as Lady Starling asked, whenever it was asked of her, no matter what it might be.

  There was no way out.

  1

  Two years later

  “You know what is expected of you this Season, Henrietta.”

  Henrietta nodded slowly, looking out of the window and feeling her heart lifting just a little at the sight of the London street below her. It had been two years since she had last been in London, two years of having her mother and father repeatedly go over what had occurred and just how foolish she had been, and two years of her continuing to agree with every word that they had said. Sighing heavily, Henrietta passed one hand over her eyes and tried not to allow that same, clinging fear to bite at her heart once more.

  Some two years ago, Lady Starling had, in fact, used Henrietta for her own devices. It had turned out to be a matter of the worst sort, leaving Henrietta dreadfully frightened but still forced to be obedient. When the truth had come out, Henrietta had been required to speak of the whole thing in its entirety, going right back to when Lord Kingsley had tried to press his advantage and Lady Starling had first come to her aid.

  Unfortunately, that had meant her mother, Lady Cuthbert, became aware of all that had occurred and this, of course, had brought the lady a good deal of distress. Horrified by what her daughter had done and what shame she had almost brought upon the family name, Lady Cuthbert had not allowed Henrietta to remain in London for the rest of the Season but had brought her back to her father’s estate, where Viscount Cuthbert, Henrietta’s father, had been deeply angry with what Henrietta had done. He had demanded that she stay away from London and from society for the remainder of that year and, indeed, the year after that so as to ensure that she had adequate time to reflect on her behavior, and also to make quite certain that there were to be no rumors of her behavior in London. Her father and mother had been so concerned that there would be whispers about Henrietta that they had written to almost every one of their acquaintances in town, on more than one occasion, seeking to discover what gossip might be making its way through the rumor mills.

  Thankfully, though there had been plenty about Lady Starling, there had been nothing about Henrietta—none to damage her even a little.

  Now, she was returned to London and, with the promise to behave with utter propriety and to do exactly as her mother required, Henrietta was finally to be allowed the chance to seek out a suitor. She was a little older than before and certainly would not pass for a debutante, but still was not past the age for marrying. She was hopeful and her spirits rather buoyant. There was a chance for her now and she was not about to let it fly from her.

  “Now, your cousin is to—”

  Henrietta whirled about almost at once, facing her mother and seeing how Lady Cuthbert’s eyebrows rose as she looked back at Henrietta.

  “My cousin, Mama?” Henr
ietta repeated, as a touch of nausea swirled about in her stomach. “Surely you cannot be speaking of Statton!” She narrowed her eyes just a little as her mother held her gaze, her chin lifted and her expression severe.

  “I speak of Mr. Statton, yes,” Lady Cuthbert replied firmly, her green eyes almost the very same shade as Henrietta’s. “He is come to town and seeks an audience with you.”

  Henrietta shook her head. Over the last two years, George Statton had called at the estate on a few occasions when, previously, he had not called upon her father for long periods of time. She had begun to suspect that he was being invited to the house for one sole purpose and now that he was, apparently, in London at the same time as she, Henrietta became convinced that her concerns were correct.

  “He is a kind man, Henrietta,” Lady Cuthbert continued, rising to her feet and beginning to pace up and down in front of the drawing room hearth. “He has a good income, even though he is in employment, and would suit you very well.”

  Henrietta shook her head. Her parents might think well of Mr. Statton, but she certainly did not. She did not like the dark look that came into his eyes at times, did not like the slightly crooked smile that hid more than it revealed, and certainly did not like how he continually spoke of himself rather than even consider others. He had not once asked her how she fared, nor sought to discover more about her or her character. Instead, he had talked at length about his own life and all that he enjoyed from it, as though she ought to find this utterly fascinating. What made it all the worse was that she had caught Mr. Statton with one of the maids, who had not seemed to be particularly interested in his advances. She had been walking from the library to her bedchamber to seek out a book in order to help her fall asleep, when a muffled cry had caught her ears. Mr. Statton had been standing in the passage, with a maid pressed up against the wall and his hands tight against her wrists. Upon seeing her, Mr. Statton had merely chuckled and shrugged, clearly in his cups as he staggered back. The maid had stared up at her with terrified eyes, clearly afraid that she was about to lose her position, but Henrietta had only made certain that the girl was quite all right before sending her back downstairs. Mr. Statton had said nothing to her but had only laughed harshly before turning away.