Lord Runthorne's Dilemma: A Regency Romance (3 page)

As though his thoughts had conjured her, he saw
Elizabeth walking towards him. Her arm was around the waist of a younger girl, her head tilted to listen to her companion.

She
seemed absurdly youthful, her soft brown hair, no longer drawn back in an austere coil, was thrown into relief against the fairer head. Her soft curls glowed in the sunbeams gliding through the windows. She was not pretty, he knew, not in the admired, doll-like, manner of most young women, but she had a presence and an attractiveness that those porcelain dolls could never match.

Her silky, amber gown was perfectly modest, he knew, yet it seemed to slide tantalisingly around her long limbs in a way that made him realise that he had tied his cravat a little too tightly.

***

Elizabeth kept her head tilted towards Mary, murmuring agreement although she could not remember what her friend had just said. All her attention was on Lord Runthorne who appeared to be waiting for them. He was watching her with an expression that gave her a treacherous thrill of excitement.

“
Ladies,” he said, bowing. His voice was cool but his eyes were warm. Next to her, Mary gave a nervous giggle and dropped a schoolgirl curtsey.

“
My lord.” Elizabeth matched him tone for tone and pressed her friend towards the stairs. As she passed him, he caught her hand in his strong fingers. His lips brushed her hair and his warm breath sent shivers down her spine.

“
Cold, sweet Elizabeth?” His voice was low and intimate, bringing a warm flush to her cheeks. “That dress is positively indecent.”

Elizabeth
pulled her fingers free and glanced down at her demure gown. She bit her lip, annoyed. “Why, my lord, I did not realise that you tended towards the puritanical.” She raked him with what she hoped was a scathing glare. “Should I ever require your good opinion, I shall endeavour to bear that in mind.”

“I wonder if my opinion ever carried any weight with you, Elizabeth.”

She lifted her chin, drawing the shreds of her dignity around her
. “Come, my love,” she said, linking arms with Mary.

“
I do not know how you dare,” her friend whispered as they descended the stairs together. “Who is he?”

“
This conceited gentleman is the Marquess of Runthorne,” Elizabeth said. “Please pay him no attention, it just encourages him.”

“
Elizabeth has always been daring,” Lord Runthorne said from behind and only Elizabeth’s arm prevented the younger girl from tripping.

“
And you, my lord, have always been impudent,” Elizabeth said over her shoulder.

Lord
Runthorne’s wicked grin did strange things to Elizabeth’s insides, conjuring forbidden memories. “I do not remember you objecting before, Elizabeth,” he said.

“
How sad to have such a faulty memory and at such a young age, too.”

Mary’s
shocked gasp recalled Elizabeth to her situation and she blushed. She was no longer the wealthy Miss Hampton whose sharp tongue was indulged. She was now a poor relation and must watch her words. “Forgive me,” she said. Her voice sounded stiff to her own ears, “I should not have spoken so.”

The drawing room where they were to gather had never seemed so distant and Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when they finally arrived. She glanced at her friend.

“
Are you ready?”

Mary gave her a shy little smile.
“I think so.”

The
room was well lit and heavy with the scent of beeswax candles, despite the warm sun still streaming through the large windows. A group of young ladies, guarded by their chaperones, chatted with animated fervour. The young men in attendance laughed in appreciation. Mature matrons sat on the various couches and ignored their husbands.

But it was a
young woman who drew Elizabeth’s eye. She stood alone, framed by a window, gazing pensively at the view. Sunlight glowed in the golden curls tumbling artlessly around her perfect, heart-shaped face.

“
Who is she?” Mary looked at her with something akin to awe on her face. “She is an angel.”

A smile flittered across the
Beauty’s lips.

“
I do not recognise her,” Elizabeth said. “Yet there is something about her that seems familiar.”

The Beauty
slowly raised her eyes. They were a deep pansy blue, edged by impossibly long and dark lashes, and passed uninterestedly over Elizabeth, leaving her feeling like a scullery maid intruding on a queen.

A smile curved the
Beauty’s perfect cupid-bow mouth. “At last,” she breathed. Her voice was childish and sweet. She seemed to dance forward her hands held before her.

She passed
Elizabeth and Mary as though they did not exist and placed her hands in Lord Runthorne’s. Elizabeth could not help noticing how soft and white her arms were, like the curved necks of swans.

“
Runthorne,” the girl said, softly, “you have been an age. I had quite given up on you.” She pouted a little.

“
I am utterly, irredeemably, inconsolable, Aurelia,” he said.

He dropped the girl’s fluttering fingers.
“May I present Miss Hampton, your hostess’ niece? I have yet to be introduced to her charming companion.”

“
Miss Granger,” Elizabeth supplied.

“
Charmed,” the girl murmured, intent on one of the ribbons edging her bodice.

“
Ladies,” Lord Runthorne continued, “may I present Miss Lacey.” His smile twisted.

“
My betrothed.”

C
HAPTER TWO

Lacey? Aurelia Lacey?

The room seemed to narrow and darken. Elizabeth’s face froze and there was an odd, rushing noise in her ears.

It was
strange, she thought, that no-one else seemed aware of it. Mary’s mouth moved as though she spoke, but there was no sound.

Suddenly everything snapped back into focus and sound came flooding back.

“Betrothed?” Miss Lacey’s giggle grated on Elizabeth’s nerves. “Oh, Runthorne, you are impetuous. Dear Papa has yet to send the announcement to
The Times
.” Miss Lacey’s dulcet tones hardened marginally at the mention of her father’s lapse but, Elizabeth noticed, she continued to bat her lashes in innocent wonder.

“
I have no doubt your mother will prevail upon him to send it directly,” Lord Runthorne said.

“
And as her mother, I shall,” a voice said from the doorway.

Elizabeth
turned and met the cold eyes of the matron standing in the doorway.

“
Lady Delphine,” Elizabeth said and dropped a stiff curtsey.

“
Elizabeth.” Lady Delphine inclined a regal head and extravagant plumes, dyed green to match the expanse of satin barely containing her magnificent bosom, bobbed in sympathy. “I had not thought you would be present.”

“
It is my home, my lady, why should I not be here?”

Lady
Delphine laughed. “Why, no reason at all my dear,” she said. She tossed her head and her suspiciously yellow hair glinted. “I had, perhaps foolishly, assumed that certain company would have proved unpalatable, that is all.”

“
Aunt Edina asked me to be here and, after her great care of me, no company would be too distasteful, Lady Delphine.”

Lady Delphine laughed again as though Elizabeth had made a great joke. “I seem to remember that you used to call me ‘Aunt Delphine’,” she said.

“So I did, but that was a long time ago and I have grown wiser, I hope.”

Lady
Delphine’s smile remained in place, never reaching her eyes. “It would seem, however, that your exile from Town has taught you neither manners, nor humility.” She turned her attention to Lord Runthorne. “I rely on you, my lord,” she cooed in quite a different tone, “to make the introductions.” She pointed with her fan. “I do not believe I have met this young lady before.”

Lord
Runthorne raised an eyebrow. “Of course, Lady Delphine, may I present Miss Granger?”

“
Granger? One of the Hampshire Grangers?”

Mary
shrank into Elizabeth’s side. “No, my lady,” she whispered.

“
Speak up, child, who is your father?”

“
Captain John Granger, madam.”

A
small smile flickered, ghostlike, across Lady Delphine’s lips and Elizabeth wondered what she was thinking. “Captain Granger? Of what regiment, my dear?”

Mary gave a tentative smile and
Elizabeth felt her relax a little. “Oh, he was not an army captain, Lady Delphine.”

“
You mean he was a sea captain?” Mrs Lacey turned her shoulder. “Oh dear.”

Elizabeth
felt her friend stiffen and she placed a hand on the younger girls arm. “Lady Delphine feels that those who wage war at sea are not true gentlemen,” Elizabeth said, “which is an unfortunate prejudice given both the sterling victories of our navy and that her host is himself a navy captain.”

“
Elizabeth, this is not the time,” Lord Runthorne said.

She ignored his warning. He had long ago lost that privilege.

“
I have to say, Lady Delphine, that I did not like the arrogance of the
ton
when I was part of that select group. I find that I like it even less when that disdain is directed at one of my friends.”

Lord Runthorne
gripped her wrist in his strong fingers.

“
I said that this is not the time.”

There was sufficient controlled anger in
his voice to make her pause. Lady Delphine’s face was red beneath her powder.

“
Your pardon, my lady, if I caused offence,” Elizabeth said, forcing the words past her unwilling lips.

Lady
Delphine’s glare might have frozen fire. “Come Aurelia,” she said, at last. “I do not wish for acquaintance here. Runthorne, when you care to seek genteel company, you may join us.”

With a last,
withering, glare, she swept Miss Lacey before her looking like a galleon in full sail. Then Lady Delphine descended on a delicate settee which gave a tiny groan under the weight.

Elizabeth
wrenched her wrist from Lord Runthorne’s fingers. “How dare you,” she began but he would not let her finish.

“
You are many things, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice low, “but you are not a fool. What were you thinking of, insulting your aunt’s guest?”

Elizabeth
clenched her fists, but she did not turn away. She would not, could not, admit that she knew she had been in the wrong. “My behaviour is not your concern,” she said.

“
I rather think it is. Lady Delphine, despite her faults, is my future mother-in-law, and I will not have her embarrassed.” He may not have chosen those words to deliberately wound her, but they did, nonetheless.

Elizabeth
would not allow him to see how she hurt inside. Instead she raised her chin.

“
For goodness sake, Elizabeth, what is wrong with you?” Lord Runthorne shook his head “You used to be so close to Lady Delphine, she was like a second mother to you. I remember you told me that.” He paused, as though he truly expected an answer but, as Elizabeth remained silent, he gave a careless shrug and turned away.

Elizabeth
wanted to cry.

“
I see Lady Delphine is working her usual magic.”

The amused voice roused
Elizabeth, lifting her away, momentarily, from her misery. “Charles,” she said, allowing the pleasure she felt to colour her tone. This was one surprise that was pleasant. “I had not thought to see you again.” She gave her hands to the giant towering over her.

He grinned, transforming his handsomely ugly face and his hands engulfed hers, but Elizabeth saw the care lines around his eyes.

“
Poor Charles, does it still hurt very much?”

“
Bless you for remembering, little Elizabeth,” his hearty chuckle relieved Elizabeth’s mind. “No, I cannot claim an invalid’s status. Poor weather bothers me a little, but I am gaining the reputation as a veritable weather vane in compensation.”

Mary cleared her throat and
Elizabeth released Charles’ hands to pull her friend’s arm through hers.

“
My love, may I present Captain Fitzalan, late of the 18
th
Light Dragoons? Do not allow his demeanour to fool you, he may act the buffoon, but he really is most brave. Captain Fitzalan was badly wounded at Bergen, some years ago. He may joke about it now but, for a time, we feared for him.”

Mary’s
mouth was round with amazement and there was the slightest glint of hero worship in her eyes. Elizabeth understood her friend’s fascination. Captain Fitzalan was striking.

Not one of his features could be considered handsome
exactly but, taken as a whole they were extremely attractive to a susceptible heart. Thick, tawny gold hair formed a halo around his head, whilst broad shoulders filled his coat admirably. He was also, Elizabeth knew, one of the kindest of men and, when she had been about in Society, one of her dearest friends.

Had
you had any sense at all you would have fallen in love with him
, her conscience whispered.
But you had to plummet into love with his best friend
.
Fool.

Involuntarily,
Elizabeth’s eyes were drawn to the corner of the room where Lord Runthorne stood in the shadows and she sighed.

“
Elizabeth,” Charles re-captured her attention, “are you well?”

“
Oh, Charles,” Elizabeth said, “I am quite well, I do assure you. Why should I not be? I have the best of friends in Mary, my aunt is most kind and I must love Captain Maybourne for bringing me my dear friend.” She stopped, aware that she was babbling. Charles eyed her shrewdly, but, to Elizabeth’s relief, turned the subject and his attention away.

“
Miss Granger,” he said, his deep voice softening a little, “I do not believe I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance. Are you some connection of the Captain’s?”

Mary fluttered and blushed, keeping her large eyes lowered.
“I am his ward, Captain Fitzalan.” She peeped at him from below her lashes in, what Elizabeth was sure was an unintentional flirtation. Elizabeth tried not to smile, her friend was so innocent and Charles was so kind, she did not think her young friend was in any danger. She glanced at Charles’ face and wondered if her older friend would be so safe.

“
How did that come about,” he rumbled, his eyes fixed on Mary’s sweet face.

“
My father and he served together as boys. My father was killed at the Battle of the Nile.”

Elizabeth
knew there was no quicker way to Charles’ sympathies than the loss of a parent. “You poor girl,” he said, softly.

“
Thank you, sir, but truly I did not know him that well.” Mary sighed. “It is sad, but he was away at sea so often that I only knew him through my mother’s eyes.”

“
The loss to her must have been terrible, Mary.”

Elizabeth
raised her eyebrows at the sudden intimacy but neither Charles, nor her friend appeared to notice, although Mary blushed when Charles took her hand. “She did not outlive him more than a week,” she said, so quietly that even Elizabeth barely heard her. “However,” she rallied, “Captain Maybourne became my guardian and he has been all kindness.”

“
Miss Granger will be presented next Season,” Elizabeth said. She was a little troubled by the instantaneous fascination her friends appeared to have for each other. “This house party is by way of adding a little polish before that ordeal.” Her voice seemed to break their spell. Charles dropped Mary’s hand who blushed, mortified.

“
Society will be delighted to be adorned by such a jewel,” Charles said, but made no further attempt to monopolise Mary. Instead he turned his attention to the rest of the room.

“
Your aunt has gathered quite a crowd,” he said to Elizabeth. “Where is she? I must greet her.”

The drawing room was now quite full.
As a widow Aunt Edina had not entertained, but her new marriage had given her the perfect opportunity and she had clasped it with both hands.

“
She is embracing Society,” Elizabeth said, searching for her aunt amongst the guests.

“
There she is,” she said, spying her aunt talking to a small, rotund man. It was Mr Lacey, a colourless gentleman who had always seemed rather self-effacing when she knew him in London. It was as though his more dominant wife had drained all enthusiasm from him.

“
Come, I will take you to her.” Elizabeth linked her arm through Charles’ and drew him forward. They skirted the room, passing close by where Miss Lacey sat. Lord Runthorne was bent over her.

Admiring her bosom
.
She’s showing far too much.

Elizabeth
ignored her baser self. She was not quite so successful at ignoring him. Her fingers itched to shake him. Instead she laughed, flirtatiously as though Charles had said something to amuse her.

“
What are you doing, Elizabeth,” Charles murmured in her ear.

Elizabeth
flushed but fluttered her lashes. “Oh, Charles, how can you say so,” she said. She glanced over at Lord Runthorne.

He was watching her and
he did not appear to be amused.

***

“She is terribly fast, isn’t she?” Aurelia smiled dreamily into Runthorne’s eyes, her hands clasped beneath her full bosom. “I cannot abide such forwardness.” Her lisping voice softened so that he had to lean closer to hear. Her lips parted and he jerked away.

“
I had not noticed,” he said.

“
Really?” Aurelia gave a tinkling laugh, “and yet you watch her so closely. I do believe I should be jealous.”

She lacked the light touch of an experienced flirt, but
Runthorne was certain she would soon learn. “You have no reason for that,” he said.

“
Indeed, I do hope not because, Runthorne dear, I always get what I want.” She smiled, showing her small, sharp teeth.

In that moment she
seemed so much like her mother, sitting next to her in silent, deaf chaperonage that Runthorne shivered. He glanced over at Elizabeth. Her head was thrown back as she laughed at something Charles had murmured in her ear. The long column of her neck was arched, exposed and vulnerable. Runthorne felt an unexpected stab of envy.