Loving A Lady: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Book Read online

  “And you shall both have a grand time,” Alphonse cut in, grinning at both of them and lying his arms on their shoulders on either side of him.

  “Have a merry time. A fortuitous time! And then please do report back to me about how it went. My father will be so excited to hear of it. Be sure to send Lady Noelle Fletcher my regards. I’m certain she is a charming young chit.”

  Rodrick’s cheeks pinkened ever so slightly. He couldn’t believe that Alphonse was neglecting to attend the ball with them, but he supposed there were worse things than introducing himself to ladies in his stead. Apart from being there as James’s right-hand man, of course.

  He supported his cousin’s search for a lovely young wife above just about anything else.

  “Mother, we are off!” he called into the house, hoping that his mother was within and ready to go. James had his carriage parked at the curb out front, ready and waiting for them. Rodrick would have just as soon ridden a horse to town, though a carriage would do better by them.

  It was then that he realized that there was no carriage waiting there for the marquess. I assume he rode here and told his driver to leave him so that he could ride into town with us, Rodrick thought. Lest his driver inform the duke of his son’s true location this evening.

  Rodrick did wish that his friend would be honest and straightforward with his father about his desires and wishes. Had he himself had a father still, he knew that he would’ve confided his full heart to him, always.

  He bit his bottom lip a bit as he got onto the covered bench seat of the carriage alongside James and his mother. Alphonse sat on the bench across from them, riding backwards and not seeming to mind it at all. “I do anticipate that you’ll both have a splendid time,” he said again, almost as if he was trying to relieve himself of some of the guilt that he had in leaving them to it.

  Rodrick knew that their hosts were likely to be put off by the marquess’s absence, but fortunately, he was traveling with the intention of being James’s companion and not Lord Drake’s. As dear a friend as he was, Rodrick wouldn’t have liked to have to rely on him.

  The ride to Grosvenor Square from Hatfield took a little over two hours. His mother dozed off with her head against his shoulder as he gazed out of the small glass window, admiring the way the trees and fields gave way to the stone and brick structures of the city.

  As much as Rodrick enjoyed the balls and people of London, the countryside struck him as having a better, more amiable quality to it. Life was simply better when one could breathe the fresh air and not worry so much about what society and Seasons dictated that a man do with his leisure time.

  Before they could stop off in front of the Duke of Salisbury’s London house, Alphonse alerted the driver via the front window of their covered bench.

  “Drive on a little further, please. To Covent Garden.” He turned and looked back at Rodrick and James, who raised their eyebrows at him in almost perfect unison, causing him to guffaw.

  Mrs. Edwards snapped awake, startled by the sound. “Hm? Are we there? Are we in London?”

  “Yes, Mother,” Rodrick said, giving her hand a gentle pat. “But we’re not quite to our destination. We simply hit a bump in the road.” He eyed Alphonse.

  “Oh,” she said sleepily, letting her head fall back onto his shoulder once more.

  As excited as she was for the party, she also thoroughly enjoyed her naps.

  “How long shall we find you in Covent Garden?” James asked Alphonse, speaking in a whisper so as not to disturb his aunt further.

  “Yes,” Rodrick whispered. “I should like to know where to send my complaints and reports about le not-so-bon ton.”

  Alphonse smiled wryly, nodding approvingly at Rodrick. “Oh yes, please do send such reports to me as soon as you possibly can. I shall be here for a week. Possibly more, depending on how well the Season treats me.”

  With that, the carriage stopped outside of a small flat with stairs up from the street. Rodrick had an idea that part of the home’s attraction for Alphonse was the fact that it was too small to entertain many visitors. He couldn’t be expected to host a ball there, for example.

  The marquess wasn’t one to shirk a ball during the London Season, but he had yet to host one of his own. Now Rodrick could see why not.

  Climbing out of the carriage, Alphonse took Rodrick’s hand again and gave it a friendly shake. “Until next time, my friend.”

  “Be well, Alfie. Write to me if any of your plans should change.”

  Alphonse nodded once and then stepped completely down from the carriage, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Mrs. Edwards startled awake again and peered out the small window with some confusion.

  “Where are we now?” she asked. “Oh! And where’s Lord Drake?”

  Rodrick and James shared a smile. “I’m afraid he had other plans for the evening, Auntie,” James informed her. He moved to the bench across now so that he could look at Rodrick and share in some amused expressions as the carriage resumed its ride to the Duke of Salisbury’s house.

  The carriage rolled past a wrought-iron gated fence and up a slightly bumpy gravel path towards a crescent of houses. Before long, they arrived out front and the two gentlemen alit first, both reaching up with one hand each to help Mrs. Edwards out and safely onto the ground.

  Mrs. Edwards stared appraisingly up at the house, smiling a bit and unable to mask the fact that she was deeply satisfied. The terraced house was tall and made of finely-chiseled brick and white stucco. The home wasn’t anywhere as grand as the Earl of Montgomery’s Hatfield manor, Westwood, but for a London dwelling, it was more than exceptional.

  Rodrick noted the look on his mother’s face as she lightly held his arm and he guided her up onto the marble front porch. “These look like the finest houses in London,” she whispered directly into his ear.

  He chuckled softly and nodded his head. “I know, Mother,” he said quietly back. “I didn’t think that the duke was living in an alleyway.”

  James knocked upon the door and they waited, him with an eager, expectant look on his face and Rodrick with no small amount of trepidation. It had been amusing to discuss what might happen that evening, but now they were about to experience it for real and first-hand.

  Rodrick hoped that they would have good tidings to bring back along with them for Alphonse, and he prayed that James would have a wonderful time, too. If ever there was someone deserving of every happiness, it was his cousin whom he loved as a brother.

  After a few minutes, the black wooden door was opened and they were greeted by an unsmiling butler. “Good evening,” he said, standing aside so they could all enter the charming townhouse. James, Rodrick, and Eleanor looked around at the elegant white walls and floors of the foyer.

  There was a mirror above a mantle along the wall as they went, framed on either side by white candelabras. Rodrick had, of course, made the acquaintance of the Duke and Duchess of Salisbury before, along with at least the two eldest daughters, but they really only crossed paths about once a Season and this was the first year that they’d elected to throw a ball in their own house. He wondered at that a little.

  I suppose that Lady Noelle and Lady Catherine, being thus far unmarried, means that they’ve had precious little reason to host one such occasion.

  He knew of the Viscount of Kent being newly arrived back in England from a lengthy holiday abroad, but he didn’t know the man himself. He didn’t know anyone who was unknown to either James or the Earl of Montgomery. He relied on them almost entirely for social engagements and the like.

  The butler closed the heavy front door and walked along the hall behind them, eventually making his way to the front of their small group so that he could precede them and make their introduction to the family of the house. He cleared his throat. Rodrick looked over his shoulders and saw the duke and duchess standing together in a parlor, clearly interrupted from some not entirely pleasant conversation.

  They both held glasses of a
rose-colored liquid that Rodrick recognized instantly as a port wine. “Your Grace,” the butler said with a low bow. “The Viscount of Easton and his cousin Mr. Edwards.”

  The Duke of Salisbury stepped forward to shake hands with James; meanwhile, Eleanor and the duchess shared a smile.

  “How good of you to join us,” the Duchess of Salisbury said to Rodrick’s mother, offering her a hand which his mother readily took. Rodrick noted right away that she had a kind smile that was in her blue-green eyes as well. She looked to be much younger than her years would let on.

  I wonder if her daughters are still as pretty as she is, he thought curiously, wondering when he might be free to take his leave and go attempt to find out for himself.

  “This is my cousin, Mr. Rodrick Edwards,” he suddenly heard James introducing him to the duke, gesturing an arm in his direction. “Son of the late Mr. Alexander Edwards, my uncle.”

  “I see,” the duke said, eyeing Rodrick not unkindly from where he stood.

  Rodrick, for his part, dutifully stepped forward a little towards him and bowed. “It is an honor to see you again, your grace.”

  “Oh?” the old man said, bowing slightly back to him, looking into his eyes and trying to recall when last he’d met him.

  “I must confess that I don’t remember. But I shall be the first to admit that my memory is not what it used to be… Especially…” He gestured to his nearly-empty glass of port and then gave a laugh.

  James and Rodrick laughed along with him. The old man was pleasant enough. Rodrick had been a bit concerned that the Duke of Salisbury would be pompous and stern, but fortunately, he seemed to be far from it.

  “He’s not like I expected,” he said quietly to James when they’d finally taken their leave of them, walking further into the recesses of the tall, ornately decorated house. He told his cousin what he’d been imagining and James let out a laugh, trying his best to keep it quiet so as not to arouse curiosity. Still, Mrs. Edwards watched them whispering to each other with one arched brow as they led her along.

  “You clearly need to go to more parties,” James said to him with a smile. Though James was shy and of a modest demeanor, he still turned out at balls whenever the opportunity arose. He didn’t always bring Rodrick along with him, mainly because he knew that the experience could prove rather taxing for his cousin, but he did his best to be a good sport and include him in his every escapade.

  “Starting now, I’m going to bring you along every time I come to one of these events. No matter the reason, no matter the Season.”

  Rodrick laughed, smiling appreciatively at him. “Fine by me,” he replied. “I think my mother would like that.”

  “Eh?” she asked him. “I would like what?”

  He turned his smile to her now. “A glass of cider,” he said, noticing the table in the corner when they’d reached the ballroom.

  His mother blinked at him, her mind still a whirl from meeting the duke and duchess.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, smiling back at him. “Yes, please. Thank you.” She reached up and patted his cherubic cheek.

  Eleanor removed her arm from his then and took James’s arm instead. He smiled down at her and Rodrick watched as he safely led her over to a chair at the far end of the room. Taking a deep breath, Rodrick strolled over to the refreshments table and poured his mother a glass of cider with a ladle from a wide, lipped bowl.

  The aroma of apple hit his nostrils and was so pleasing to him that he already had it in his mind to come back for a glass of his own.

  As he made his way back to his mother, he found her there seated in a row of white chairs with plush, green cushions. He carefully handed the glass to her and then looked around the ballroom in search of James. Did that rascal wander off without me? he wondered.

  Then, his eyes locked with the bright blue ones belonging to a chestnut-brown-haired beauty sitting three chairs away from where he now stood.

  Chapter 5

  Noelle was transfixed but she tried not to stare at the gentleman who had caught her eye. He’d come from the cider bowl, carrying a glass and handing it off to an older woman who was dressed in gold silk finery. He was a man of average height and build, nothing that striking about his appearance, but his eyes had this green, glowing intensity about them that left her wanting for more information about him.

  As soon as he noticed that he had her attention, he smiled and a dimple appeared in one of his cheeks, and then she was done for. Batting her long, dark lashes, Noelle cast her gaze downward now to focus on her folded hands in her lap. A smile crept onto her lips as she felt him continuing to look at her.

  “—and I really do think that the only one who ever seems to benefit from these balls is Catherine, who never hurts for a partner anyway,” Emily prattled on. Noelle had practically forgotten about the girl sitting beside her. She almost wished that Emily would go back to reading her book so as not to scare away the gentleman.

  “I think that Mother would miss them,” she said to Emily, doing her best now to keep her eyes on her younger sister. “You know how much Mother loves society and appearances. Do you think we’d live the way we do – with all of these comforts – if she didn’t?”

  Emily gave her a queer sort of look. “Why are you staring at me?” she asked. “Have I got something on my face?” She reached up and gingerly touched the corners of her mouth as if instinct told her that there might be some crumbs there.

  Noelle’s cheeks went pink. She did wish that Emily would keep her voice down.

  The crowd in the room ensured that things weren’t otherwise silent, but the man was so close – a few chairs away – and she didn’t wish for him to hear their banal chatter. She rather hoped that he would find her interesting and perhaps mysterious…

  “There’s nothing on your face, sprat,” she said to Emily, smiling at her. “I’ve just been noticing how pretty you’ve grown.”

  It was so; though Emily was plainer than her elder sisters, and Anna and Beth were gaining on her in their blossoming age, she had fair skin, bluey-brown eyes, and the sweetest dimples in both of her cheeks.

  They shared the same light brown hue of hair, and Noelle did have every reason to believe that Emily someday might just be a pretty little thing. Won’t that make Mother proud?

  This praise did little for Emily, however. She glowered back at Noelle, sinking in her chair a bit. “Don’t tease me or I shall leave,” she threatened.

  “I’m not teasing!” Noelle said to her earnestly.

  It was in that moment that she found that the gentleman who’d caught her eye was now standing directly in front of her chair. Her blushing intensified by degrees. Knowing that she could ignore him no longer, she instead turned to look up at him as he stood before her.

  “Good evening, my lady. I am Mr. Edwards, Lord Edwards’s cousin. We’ve met before, but it has indeed been a long time since then,” the gentleman said to her, bowing.

  “Then it’s a pleasure to reacquaint with you, sir,” she said to him with a dimpled smile. “It is fortuitous that you’re here right now; you can help me with something.”

  She looked from him to Emily and back again. “Would you not say that my little sister is pretty?” she asked him, gesturing over to her sister so he understood to whom she was referring.

  Emily’s posture went rigid as her face went white.

  The gentleman chuckled and gave a nod of his head. “Why, certainly,” he said in a voice that was even-toned and warm as a summer’s day. Noelle hazarded to look at him again and saw that indeed his eyes were on her and not on her sister at all.

  “I just so happen to have come over here to tell you that beauty must run in your family. For both your sister and you are quite striking.”

  Noelle smiled at him, her cheeks and now bosom quite hot with a blush she didn’t think she’d be rid of anytime soon. He’d made the added effort to include Emily in his praise, and that endeared him to her further. She knew, however, that she must soon vac
ate her chair before her sister went completely catatonic with shock and self-consciousness.

  “You are indeed too kind, sir,” she said to him. “And what is your name? I don’t believe that I’ve seen you in London before.”

  He offered her his hand, which she gratefully accepted, allowing him to helpfully lift her from her chair at the same time.

  “I’m Rodrick Edwards,” he said, introducing himself.

  She noticed that his hand was soft and warm, and then she realized that she should probably let go of it now that she was standing on her own two feet. She did so, hoping to not have made too big of a show of it.

  “You’re not related to Lord James Edwards, the Viscount of Easton, are you?” she asked him. Noelle had to listen to her mother prattle on about every lord, earl and marquess in the London region, and as such she had committed a great many names to memory. She knew of the viscount but she could not recall if she’d ever laid eyes on the man before.

  Mr. Edwards stood a bit taller now. “Indeed, I am,” he replied with some pride now added to his voice and his demeanor. “I am his cousin on his father’s side. The Earl of Montgomery is my uncle.”

  Noelle blinked a little, a large tree of succession coming into her mind. “Ah, yes, of course,” she said then. “I am Lady Noelle Fletcher.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Noelle,” he said to her so politely, looking into her eyes in a way that told her that he respected her and saw her as an equal – something that might’ve incensed her mother but something that made Noelle feel complimented. It wasn’t often that she felt respected by the gentlemen who came to these events.

  To be sure, she never felt violated or anything like that, but she never felt equal in the eyes of the men who came to the party with her father and her mother. To all of them, she was simply The Duke of Salisbury’s daughter. What a gift it was to see and be seen by someone who didn’t let class or status fog his sensibilities.