Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (41 page)

But Elise didn’t want to stand around and watch as Michael danced or fell in love with someone else. She had to get out of this room before it choked the life from her. Making her excuses, she left Camden, Lady Ann and her mother behind, and soon caught up with Beverly and Christopher. She had to get out into the cool evening breeze before she expired from the stuffiness of it all.

“Come,” she said, “let’s get grandmother and go. This house is overcrowded.”

T
o the casual observer it would appear that nothing was amiss between Camden and his lady love. But the man watching was no casual observer. He’d been studying Lady Elise Halden for months now and knew from her stance and attitude toward Camden that something was troubling the lady. There was no spark of love in her eyes and she stood out of the man’s reach as she spoke to Camden.

Good. There was trouble in paradise. He had to let his cousin know it was time to visit their favorite apothecary.

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

“Y
ou should come with us tonight,” her grandmother said over their soup, several nights later when the two of them sat down to an early dinner. “If I must play chaperone to Beverly and Huddleston the rest of the season, it would be nice to have you along as well. After all, she is your friend.”

“Oh, I’m afraid this case of the sniffles I picked up at the Holcombe’s the other night is still lingering,” she said. Elise dabbed beneath her dry nose with her napkin as she affected a sniff. “Perhaps it is best that I stay home one more night.”

Footmen brought the next course and when they were done, Elise said, “If it is possible, I would like to leave for home this weekend. Huddleston’s mother arrives tomorrow, so Beverly will not lack chaperonage for the duration.” She lifted her fork and knife absently. “It is a week early, but I think I would recover from this malady far quicker in the country.”

She stared at the slice of duck with cranberry sauce on her plate, her appetite now gone. More than anything, Elise didn’t wish to run into Michael. The word about town was that he would attend tonight’s masque since Lord Whippleworth was a colleague of his.

As soon as she learned he would attend, Elise decided she’d forego the event, and on her way home from her ride she’d concocted a case of the sniffles, which she’d thought to play out for a few days. If forced to remain in town, she would create another reason not to go about in public for that last week of the season. Two mild maladies should see her through the remainder of her time in Town.

When she thought of that first dance they were to share as a betrothed couple when he came out of mourning, she wanted to cry. She remembered the waltz they shared during Beverly’s ball, and the romantic way he’d asked her to dance. He’d taken her out to the private terrace where he’d asked her to come to his mother’s party. The party he’d asked her to marry him in front of both families. Elise remembered feeling as though she was finally living her most dearly-held dream. Now there was no longer the possibility of a marriage between them.

A tear threatened again, but she forced it down. She’d save it for later. Elise opened her mouth to again politely decline, when her grandmother, always honest and direct said, “I cannot believe that after all these years of loving him, you’re so willing to give him up.”

The fork slipped from her fingers and Elise set her knife down, and tried to take a deep breath but wasn’t successful. She wanted to tell her grandmother that a happy ending with Michael would never happen now, as he thought her a liar and a woman without virtue.

When the tear began to trail down her cheek, she pushed back her chair, finished with her dinner. From somewhere inside her she found the strength to say, “I cannot be in the same room with him. It would be the end of me.”

Before Elise could flee the dining room, her grandmother’s voice stopped her. “My darling girl, do not spend another night in your room wishing for something fully within your power to make happen. If it’s Camden your heart still longs for, then you should not give up so easily.” Her grandmother did not meet her gaze. Instead the other woman focused her attention on cutting a tender asparagus spear. She raised it with her fork and looked at Elise with sympathy. “But if you no longer want him, then it’s only right you let him go to find someone who would appreciate him.”

Elise fled from the room, and as she ran, she heard her grandmother say, “I plan to leave at half-past eight, if you would like to come along. It would make this old woman happy.”

Upon entering her room she ran directly for her water closet where Elise allowed herself five minutes of tears. Five minutes to release the heartbreak, sadness and disappointment over an irrevocable situation completely of her own doing. That realization hurt the most. She’d gone to him that night. He’d not seduced her. Elise went to Michael fully expecting to make love with him. And she got what she wanted hadn’t she?

Tonight her grandmother was adamant, in her own subtle way, that she go with her, Beverly and Huddleston. If Michael was going to be present this night, she would show him that she was no love-sick fool. There were other men who might appreciate her. Perhaps there was even one she might eventually come to love.

Her mind made up, she was now going to join Beverly, Huddleston, and her grandmother at the Whippleworth’s masqued ball. The Viscount and Vicountess were old friend’s of her father’s and her family, and the invitation had been accepted weeks ago.

Upon re-entering her room, she found her maid already standing in front of one of her wardrobes, with both doors opened for her to select a gown. “If ye just pick one out I can get it steamed right quick.”

“I swear at times, I think you eavesdrop at doors,” Elise said.

Her maid rolled her eyes. “Don’t have to. James the footman is sweet on me. He told me when he came out of the dinin’ room wit’ the untouched dessert tray.”

“So that’s your secret. Well, what shall it be tonight, Bridget?”

“Green and gold?” Her maid held the gown up with one hand, while at the same time she pointed to one hanging over the door. “Or the apricot?”

Elise didn’t want to add that she needed a dress to help her feel pretty this night. Especially after the last few days. “Which do you like better?”

“The apricot,” her maid replied. “Suits your coloration better, if ye ask me.”

“Apricot it is.” Elise went to her jewel case. “Do you think I could get a bath sent up at this late hour?”

“Already ordered, my lady.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Oh, ye’d be lost fer sure.”

A little over an hour later and only five minutes late, Elise descended the steps to find her grandmother waiting on her, already wearing her wrap. She made her apologies as they climbed into the carriage, heading for Beverly’s home.

Their party arrived at the Whippleworths’ and waited in line to come up to the portico to disembark as the evening mist became a light rain. When they entered the ballroom it seemed to Elise that all eyes turned to her. Maybe she was just imagining it, but she was suddenly self-conscious. It felt as though the entire
ton
could see her heart on her sleeve—a heart she’d given to Michael many years ago. Thankfully though, the masque hid her puffy eyes. She smiled hesitantly and with a reassuring squeeze of her hand, her grandmother gave Elise her unstinting support.

Beverly entered on Huddleston’s arm directly behind them, and soon her grandmother found her party near some open terrace doors in a corner of the ballroom. All the matrons, it seemed, were desperate for any breeze they could capture in the over-packed and stuffy ballroom. Elise stood next to Lady Royce and watched Beverly and Christopher already on the dance floor.

“Lady Elise.” A familiar voice spoke behind her. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Sir Marlowe.” She smiled at the handsome cousin of The Not-So-Honorable Mr. Sinclair. “How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.” He returned her smile and Elise noticed for the first time how perfectly straight his white teeth were. Even behind the demi-mask she thought him too handsome, with golden-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. For another woman, he would be considered an Adonis come to life. “But, I would be infinitely better if you agree to honor me with a dance later.”

She nodded her head, and they conversed a moment before he excused himself promising to return soon.

“Who is that nice-looking young man?” Grandmother asked, turning from her conversation with Lady Royce and Lady Stone, her face alight with interest. “Do we know him?”

“Beverly and I do. His name is Sir Terence Marlowe, a young Baron from somewhere near Worcester, I believe. He is cousin to Mr. David Sinclair.”

“That name sounds familiar. Isn’t he the one your brother has warned off you?”

“Sinclair is, yes. Ren thinks the man desperate for my funds, and not interested in me.”

“Your brother has excellent instincts when it comes to matters such as those. Please heed his warning.”

“Oh, I have. But Marlowe is nothing like Sinclair. He’s handsome and has a sweet nature. He also has never pressed me with his attentions.”

Her grandmother nodded, then greeted a matron who came up to speak with her. Elise accepted an invitation to a country dance and took the floor with Lord Underwood, then Lord Edgcumbe asked for a polonaise and she accepted. Before long she was dancing nearly every dance, resting only to have a watery lemonade to quench her thirst. At first, her eyes searched the room for Michael. When she realized he was not in this room at least, she began to relax and enjoy herself.

Just as a waltz began, Marlowe arrived. “My lady, I believe this is our dance”

“May I request we sit out this one. I am winded.” He appeared disappointed at first, but she offered, “Please, sit here next to me.” Elise pat the empty seat next to her as Beverly was out on the dance floor yet again, and Huddleston was in the card room. “You will be my next dance partner. But for now, we can gossip, just you and I.”

Elise asked him about his plans for the autumn, and Marlowe began explaining his desire to see the Continent, as he’d never had the opportunity. She confessed, she’d never been, though wanted to go one day. And, as he spoke, Elise breathed a sigh of relief as she was spared dancing a waltz. In her heart, she’s promised every waltz to Michael, and even though there was no chance that would ever occur, she still couldn’t bring herself to dance one with anyone else just yet.

A momentary awkward silence fell as that piece ended and the musicians began another song. People moved off and onto the dance floor and Marlowe asked, “Have you recovered, Lady Elise?” At her nod, he led her as they followed the others to the center of the room.

Elise rested her hand on top of his and they began to parade across the floor in a polonaise. “I haven’t seen you about the past few days. Have you been well, my lady?” he asked. His concern appeared genuine, even if all she could see was the lower half of his face as his mask covered most of his brow. He was such a good-natured and caring young man, with an athletic look about him.

But he isn’t Michael,
her heart whispered.

“It’s very kind of you to have noticed. I have been fighting a case of the sniffles.”

“I knew something was amiss.” His blue eyes literally sparkled with merriment. “And it had to be something important to keep you from your morning rides in the park.”

Elise smiled. She was flattered someone noticed her absence. “Oh, I’ve been about.” With Michael nowhere in sight, Elise relaxed in her partner’s arms. She met his gaze and asked him about his cousin.

“He will glad to know you asked. He is, unfortunately, out of town right now and not due to return for several weeks. He’s handling some estate matters.” She looked up into his handsome eyes, his affect shy, almost saddened. “We recently lost a relative.”

“I am sorry, Sir Marlowe. I didn’t know,” she said as he whirled her around the floor in the crescendoing finish to their polonaise. He bowed to her and Elise curtsied. She was starting to feel very warm and thirsty. “I think I shall sit out a bit. It’s very stuffy in here, is it not? Here, let us go sit with my grandmother, as she is near the terrace doors, and there is a delicious breeze coming through them.”

“Of course these silly masks we are forced to wear only serves to heighten the sensation. Shall I get you a lemonade, my lady?” Marlowe asked as he walked her back to her grandmother’s side.

“Yes, thank you. I would appreciate that very much. I will catch my breath if you don’t mind.”

He left, winding his way through the crowd. Elise tried, but couldn’t follow the conversation her grandmother and several of her friends were carrying. Looking around the room, she didn’t see Beverly or Christopher anywhere and smiled to herself hoping they were finally getting a few minutes alone.

Several minutes later, Marlowe returned with two lemonades. She drank readily of the liquid, quenching her thirst, and he offered her his, saying he would fetch more. This one she drank more slowly, as he left. Elise stood near the doors, thinking it so much cooler outside now that the rain had stopped and stepped out. Keeping her eye on her grandmother, she leaned on the balustrade feeling suddenly very tired.