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Chapter 4

Elizabeth forced a smile for the young Earl who was trying to monopolize her attention. Things hadn't changed. He’d tried the same tactics last season. The moment he walked into the room, he’d given her what she was sure he believed was a devastating smile before he worked the room, avoiding her for the next hour. Every few minutes his attention would shift to her face to see if she was watching him. She wasn’t. She only knew of his tactics because Mary kept her well informed.

Mary was the perfect chaperone. She knew absolutely everything that went on around her and had all the latest gossip. Her husband, Anthony, whom Elizabeth absolutely adored as the big brother she never had, kept Mary informed of all the latest information about every eligible bachelor. He was determined to make sure that no rake or fortune hunter got his hands on Elizabeth. He was very protective of her, almost as protective as Mary was.

Now she had to make conversation with Jonathan, the Earl of…well, she had forgotten. He’d tried to court her for three months last year. Every time he visited, she politely declined his offers for walks, invitations to the theatre and every other excuse that he could find to spend time with her. They danced at almost every ball only because it was polite to do so. He offered, she accepted, because she didn’t have a choice. It was that simple.

“I was wondering if you would care to take a stroll in the gardens with me?” Jonathan asked.

“Oh? Now?” she asked, trying not to sound alarmed. No honorable man would ask a woman to take a stroll in the gardens at this time of night and especially not in this frigid weather without having something nefarious in mind. A walk around the room would have been the appropriate and more honorable option.

“Yes,” he murmured with a pleased smile, clearly intent on trying to use seduction to gain her hand in marriage since nothing else had worked. She fully planned on refusing him, but she had to do it without insulting him when she’d rather box his ears for the attempt.

Thankfully, Mary was on top of everything as usual. She’d already decided with Anthony’s help last year that the Earl would not do. He was a reckless rake and kept mistresses until they became round with his child. They weren’t exactly sure how many illegitimate children he had, but it was at least five.

Society looked down on illegitimate children as if it was somehow their fault. She didn’t care if a man had an illegitimate child as long as he did right by the child and gave it his name and protection. The thing that disgusted her most about the situation was tossing a pregnant woman into the street like used goods. She could never be with a man like that.

Not that her parents had any idea of her plans. They didn’t. They were pushing for her to make a match now more than ever. In four months she was going to gain control over her inheritance. Her godmother had been a crafty woman who’d buried three husbands, building her fortune and holdings with each man. She’d passed away five years ago, leaving everything to Elizabeth. Her parents wanted to see her holdings in the safe and capable hands of her husband as if Elizabeth would allow any man to control her or her inheritance. Didn’t they know her at all?



“Elizabeth, Mother would like to speak with you.”

She gave Jonathan the sweetest smile that she could manage without gagging. “If you’ll excuse me, it seems that I am needed.”

He bowed. “Of course.” He took her hand before she could step away and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Until later, my lady,” he murmured, pressing a second, lingering kiss to the back of her hand.

Elizabeth fought the urge to yank her hand away, forcing herself to wait for him to release it instead. She gave a curtsy and walked away, gripping Mary’s arm tightly. “If you ever leave me alone with him again, I swear that I will tell Tommy and Marcus every single prank that you and I ever pulled so that you will be walking on eggshells for the next five years with fear of what they’ll do.”

Mary laughed softly. “Oh, my dear, I am the mother of two rambunctious boys. Trust me, I already live in fear of what they’ll do. Did I tell you that one of the little beasts put a dead fish in our bedchamber last week? It was so dreadful.” She tried to sound haughty, but her amused smile gave her away. “Anthony swears he can still smell the fish in our room.”

Elizabeth tried to give her an innocent smile. “I wonder where they could have gotten that idea from?” she asked, deciding that it was probably best not to mention that they hadn’t found the fish that the boys had hidden behind Mary’s dresser.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that now, would you?” Mary asked casually. They walked along the wall, heading towards the courtyard doors where their mother was waiting for her.

“Me? Why ever would I do that to you?” She pressed her hand to her chest in feigned innocence, but Mary wasn’t buying it.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps you felt that I was owed a little something for going along with Mother’s scheme to make you spend more time with Lord Dumford.”

“Hmm, you know, you could be right,” she said thoughtfully. It was exactly the reason why she’d suggested the idea to her nephews. Her mother was desperately trying to make a match of her and Lord Dumford and Mary was helping. The man was near forty, balding and boring. The man was also a Marquee, which, in her mother’s book, meant everything.

Mary was pushing the match for other reasons. The man would never hit her and would probably have very little to do with Elizabeth once she gave him an heir and a spare. If Elizabeth couldn’t marry for love, Mary would rather have her sister settled in a safe match.

Mary laughed. “I should have known. Anthony will be livid when he finds out.”

“No, he won’t. He adores me. He’ll think it’s good fun. We both know he’ll do something to get back at me, probably by the end of the week.”

Mary shrugged. “You’re probably right,” she said, clearly biting back a smile.

Elizabeth knew whatever they did to her that Mary would be behind it. Things were looking up. At least while she was forced to remain in London for the next two months she could have a little fun.

The sight that welcomed them was enough to sober her immediately. Their parents stood next to Lord Dumford, who was looking rather smug. Their mother's polite smile turned absolutely pleased when she spotted Elizabeth. “There you are, my dear.”

Elizabeth forced herself to smile. Lord Dumford took her hand and bowed, pressing a chaste kiss against her knuckles that left her cold. “Good evening, Lady Elizabeth.”

With a forced, barely-there smile, she curtsied. “Good evening, my Lord.”

Her father cleared his throat. “Elizabeth, Lord Dumford has been telling us of his lands in the lake region. It’s very interesting.”

“That sounds lovely, my Lord,” she said, trying not to cringe when she spotted several men walking towards them, probably hoping to steal her for a dance or a walk. Five of them were known fortune hunters and the others were known bores. She wasn’t sure which was worse, but at the moment she was in no mood to find out.

“If you would please excuse me, I believe that I could use some fresh air,” she said softly, relieved when her father gave her a small nod of approval.

“Should I accompany you, Lady Elizabeth?” Lord Dumford asked, looking expectant that she would agree.

She forced a polite smile. “No, thank you. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your evening, my Lord. I shall only be a moment.”

“Perhaps you’ll do me the honor of a dance when you return?”

Her father nodded slightly and she knew that her reprieve from this torture would only be short lived, but she would gladly take whatever she could get at the moment.

“That sounds lovely, my Lord. I look forward to it.” As she moved to leave, a few of the matchmaking mothers turned their attention on her and gestured for their sons to approach her. Realizing that she needed to leave immediately if she had any chance at all, she turned and walked slowly towards the terrace doors. Once she made it to the lawn and the safety of darkness she grabbed up her skirts and made a run for it, praying that no one would follow.

---

 

“Oh, Mr. Bradford, do come meet my daughters, Lady Penelope and Lady Emma,” a rather rotund woman said. Robert couldn’t for life of him remember her name, but he was positive that he’d seen her at one time or another speaking with his mother.

He pasted his most charming smile on his face. “It would be my pleasure.” He kissed the hand of Lady Penelope and noted that she was rather fetching. He then greeted Lady Emma, who was unfortunately her mother’s daughter. He was willing to bet the girl weighed two stones more than him and she was short, making the extra weight all the more tragic.

Lady Penelope fluttered her eyelashes at him in a very flirtatious manner. Even though he had no plans on marrying anytime soon, he wouldn’t mind spending a little time with a beautiful woman. “Lady Penelope, would you care to take a turn about the room with me?”

She looked down shyly, an act he was sure. “That would be lovely, Mr. Bradford. Thank you.”

Robert took her hand and placed it on his arm. He could barely feel her grip through his jacket. It was a shame that women of her class wore gloves everywhere. For once he would like to feel a woman’s bare hand on his arm. A firmer grip wouldn’t hurt either. Her touch felt cold and distant to him. He hated these games, but he would be willing to play them to make his mother happy, or if it meant that he could steal a kiss from a beautiful woman.

“Lady Penelope, have you been enjoying London?”

“Yes, the weather has been delightful,” she answered. Her answer was short and proper and without a trace of an original thought. He’d been hoping to engage in an actual conversation to pass the time. No, perhaps he hadn’t asked a good question. Maybe she wasn’t like the rest of these mindless drones who cared about nothing except finding a husband with a title and a large purse.

He cleared his throat. “Have you been to the theatre lately?”

She smiled brightly at that. He enjoyed the theatre himself.

“Oh, I’ve really enjoyed going. Papa allowed me to purchase three new gowns just for the theatre. I have one in light pink, one in light green, and a pretty violet dress. Also, I bought new bonnets and gloves. It was so delightful!”

He could cry. He really could.

“What play did you attend?” he asked, hoping there was a way to salvage this conversation.

“Pardon me?” she asked, clearly confused.

“What play did you attend? When you wore your new dresses, what play did you attend?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed as if this was a new and unexpected line of questioning. “I didn’t wear my new dresses to the theatre. I wore my yellow dress, because it went better with the gold curtains in my family’s box.”

“The play, Lady Penelope, what was it?” Please let her know this. Damn him and his standards. He didn’t consort with whores, married women or innocents. Well, he didn’t take more than a few kisses from an innocent. The one universal problem he had, he couldn’t stomach the company of empty-headed women.

As much as he enjoyed sex, and he truly did, the prospect of it had never driven him wild or distracted him to the point that he could ignore his ridiculous standards and risk being with a woman with a penchant for drama. Then again, he’d never had much of a choice in the matter thanks to Elizabeth Stanton. It had only taken her a few minutes one sunny afternoon to guarantee him a life of misery.

In a matter of minutes she’d turned his pleasant existence into something of a nightmare. After she’d dubbed him Robert Lemonade, he’d lost all his friends, his reputation and his life had been turned into a living hell. He’d been teased, taunted and humiliated thanks to her. He’d become a primary target for the other boys at school.

For two whole years he’d been pushed around, beat up and taunted. They found great fun in humiliating him and made damn sure that he was humiliated on a daily basis. Without the protection of a title, the knowledge of how to fight, or friends who could have defended him, he’d been an easy target. They enjoyed themselves immensely at his expense until the day that he’d finally had enough and started to fight back.

At first he’d lost more fights than he’d won, but it was enough to make some of the other boys think twice about throwing lemons at him, knocking down his books, or sneaking into his room and drenching his bed and clothes with vinegar. His sudden growth spurt hadn’t hurt either. While the other boys had grown slowly into manhood, it seemed as though he’d been shoved head first into it.

He’d grown into a man during the summer break of his fifteenth year just shortly after he’d finally had enough of Elizabeth Stanton’s bullshit. He shot up at least a foot and gained a few stones in muscles while the other boys only gained a few inches and a healthy fear of him. Along with his size, his temper had grown and he no longer put up with jests at his expense. His temper and reputation followed him through the years, making men fear him and woman wary of his company.

If it hadn’t been for his family connections and wealth, he had no doubt that the ton would have turned their back on him long ago. He would have gladly welcomed the exclusion and sought a different life for himself long before now. Life among the ton simply wasn’t for him. For his parents and brother he’d tolerated this existence until a few months ago when he’d finally had enough.

Quite simply put, he hated everything about the ton and its mindless drones. He could care less about the latest gossip, the latest fashions and living his life by a set of ridiculous rules meant to exclude anyone with an ounce of originality. His feelings on the matter had been the basis for his rules about sex and women. He couldn’t tolerate taking a woman without an original thought in her head to bed. He’d done it a few times and had detested the coy games that they’d enjoyed playing.

 


Date: 2015-04-20; view: 658


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