Stolen Heart: Historical Regency Romance (Heirs of London Book 2) Page 3

  “Your emerald pins, my lady,” the maid said, as though she knew precisely what Ellen was looking at. “It will bring attention to your eyes.”

  Ellen smiled tightly, knowing that her father wanted her to appear at her very best this evening in the hope that she might secure some interest from a gentleman or two. Perhaps they might seek to court her. But, without being pessimistic in her outlook, Ellen was quite settled on the fact that such a thing was very unlikely to occur. Gentlemen of the ton might dance with her, converse with her, and seem to give every impression of enjoying her company—and mayhap they did—but they would never consider courting her. Not when there were still rumors and whispers flying through London about her family.

  “I should hurry, miss,” the maid said gently, pulling Ellen carefully from her reverie. “Lady Sayers will be waiting for you.”

  Ellen nodded and rose, brushing her hands down her skirts, even though there was not a single crease in them. “Of course,” she said practically as her maid handed her the reticule she was to take this evening. “And you are certain I look well?” It was the first trace of nervousness that Ellen had allowed to creep into both her voice and her questions, but the maid merely smiled and nodded reassuringly, before turning her head away and leaving Ellen to walk from the room without her.

  “You look very well this evening, Ellen.”

  “Thank you, Aunt,” Ellen replied as Lady Sayers smiled back at her reassuringly while they waited in line to greet the host. “I do hope that…” She swallowed hard, forcing her anxiety back down into the depths of her heart. “I do hope that all goes well this evening.”

  “I am sure it will,” Lady Sayers replied firmly. Ellen glanced at her and tried to draw courage from her aunt’s formidable presence. Her aunt had always been a tower of strength, particularly in times such as these, and the fact that she had willingly offered to come to London and escort Ellen through society and the Season had meant a great deal not only to Ellen but to her father also. “And if they speak ill of you, then you need have no doubt that I shall do all I can to make certain that such whispers are immediately brought to an end.”

  Ellen nodded and took in another long breath, seeing that they were next in line to greet their host. Lady Forsythe, a widow of considerable means, and her son, Lord Forsythe, stood together, greeting the guests one at a time. Fixing a smile to her face, Ellen curtsied and spoke quietly and briefly to them both, thanking them for their kind invitation which, she knew, would not have been proffered by everyone within the ton.

  “There, you see?” Lady Sayers told her, her eyes flashing as she took Ellen’s arm, walking into the drawing room and looking all about her as she did so. “It went very well indeed, did it not?”

  Letting out her breath slowly, Ellen nodded but did not say anything. To greet her hosts was one thing and, given that they had invited her to be present this evening, she did not think that they would have any difficulty in accepting her. It was the other guests present, however, that brought a good deal of anxiety to Ellen’s heart.

  “Good evening, Lady Sayers.”

  Ellen turned her head quickly as a lady greeted her aunt, although Ellen herself did not know who she was.

  “Good evening, Lady Brittain,” Lady Sayers replied quickly, curtsying. “How very good to see you again.” Without hesitating, she turned to Ellen. “Might I introduce my niece?”

  Lady Brittain’s eyes flickered with awareness, although she smiled kindly at Ellen as she curtsied.

  “Lady Ellen Rowe, daughter to my brother, the Earl of Grantown,” Lady Sayers finished as Ellen rose. “And Ellen, this is Lady Brittain, a very dear friend of mine.”

  “And are you enjoying the Season this year, Lady Ellen?” Lady Brittain asked as Ellen’s heart continued to quicken, fearful that Lady Brittain might turn away from her entirely or make some remark about what had occurred last Season. “I know it has only been a week or two but still, there have been a good many occasions already.”

  “I—I have only attended a few,” Ellen replied quickly. “But yes, they have all been very enjoyable indeed.”

  Lady Brittain frowned, looking back steadily at Ellen as though she had only just seen her. “I suppose there will be those in the beau monde who consider the rumors from last Season to still be of great importance,” she said as a flush of embarrassment rose in Ellen’s cheeks. “I can assure you, Lady Ellen, that there is no belief within my own heart as regards the rumors of your father. Whenever I decide to throw a soireé of my own, I shall make quite certain to have you join us.”

  “That is very kind of you, Lady Brittain,” Ellen managed to say, heat pouring into her cheeks as she bobbed yet another curtsy. “I very much appreciate your consideration.”

  Lady Brittain waved a hand as though it meant very little. “They are nothing more than rumors—and spurious ones at that!” she exclaimed as Ellen nodded fervently. “Your father might well be in financial difficulty, but whether or not that is true is nobody else’s business but his own. And the suggestion as to how he came to be in such difficulties are quite ridiculous.”

  “I am sure that Ellen is glad you are so willing to dismiss such things, Lady Brittain,” Lady Sayers said hastily. “Now, do tell us about your son. How does he fare?”

  This made Lady Brittain launch into a great explosion of words, telling Lady Sayers all about her son, Lord Brittain, and the fact that not only had he wed last Season but that his wife was now in her confinement and they were all very much hoping for an heir. This, certainly, distracted her from any further remarks on Ellen and her father’s situation, which greatly relieved Ellen. She listened without much attentiveness, wondering which of the other guests in the room might be so inclined to believe what was being said of her father.

  A heavy sigh left her lips. She could not say precisely when such rumors had started, for she had not yet made her debut when her father had first gone to London for some important business. It had only been the year of her first entrance to society that she had learned of the whispers about him. It had not been through her father’s explanation either, but rather the cold, cruel words of a lady of the ton. Ellen could still remember the chill that had come over her, the shock that must have been written on her face as those around her either laughed, sneered, or looked away in embarrassment.

  Ever since then, the whispers had grown to rumors and Ellen had been forced to confront her father about them. He had told her, in no uncertain manner, that a particular gentleman had, unfortunately, taken a great deal of money from him. Land as well, for he had been forced to sell portions of land in order to clear whatever debt it was that he owed. Worst of all, Ellen had learned, this gentleman had been considered a friend of her father’s, and he had not realized that the whole scheme had been nothing more than a ruse. Ellen did not know the details of such an arrangement but had been both angry and sorrowful over what her father had endured.

  When Ellen had asked her father why he did not make known what this gentleman had done, so that the ton would know of it, he had simply shaken his head before rubbing one hand over his eyes, looking older than Ellen had ever seen him before. It seemed that, to pre-empt any such action by her father, this gentleman had gone on to spread rumors throughout London as to why her father was now in financial difficulty—and that it was as a result of his gambling, his drunkenness, and his penchant for visiting certain houses of disrepute.

  The gentleman had shown her father a diary with a whole host of rumors, whispers, and gossip within it—although Lord Grantown had been unable to determine which were true and which were entirely false. What had made it all the worse, according to her father, was that the gentleman had shown him a small key and stated that, until he decided otherwise, such secrets and whispers would be kept hidden away, but that, at any time, they might all be brought to light. With great glee, the gentleman had declared that those whose names were written within this book would, of course, say whatever he wished them to for fear that he might reveal what he knew. Ellen had seen her father’s shoulders slump as he had explained the situation to her. With such force behind him, he had known that there was no recourse but to accept the situation as it was. He had to endure the rumors and the lies, for it was only his word set against it.

  This had all been told to Ellen in a calm manner, with her father stating, quite plainly, that nothing could be done and that, therefore, they would have to endure until the rumors died away. Ellen had pressed her father for the gentleman’s name repeatedly until, finally, her father had given it to her. He had only done so in the knowledge that the gentleman in question had passed away and that, therefore, nothing could be done. But, of course, the rumors had continued and her father was unable to escape from them. Ellen had been affected also, for now many in the ton thought very poorly of her father and, therefore, very poorly of her. Had it not been for Lady Sayers and her determination that Ellen should continue on regardless and return to London for the Season, Ellen was quite certain that her father would have kept them both back at his estate.

  If only I could find the diary, she thought to herself as Lady Brittain continued to speak of her son. Then I might be able to prove to the ton that the rumors were nothing more than spurious lies. I might be able to show that the late Marquess of Lindale was a cruel, vindictive gentleman who stole from my father.

  Her jaw worked for a moment as she fought the anger that bubbled up within her. Most likely, he stole from others also. Of course, neither she nor her father had ever spoken to anyone of Lord Lindale’s part in all the rumors and financial difficulties that now swirled around their family name—save for Lady Sayers, of course. They could not do so for fear of what might occur, and even though Ellen had suggested they speak of it now that t
he gentleman had passed away, her father had absolutely forbidden it.

  “And we must include you also, Lady Ellen.”

  Ellen was brought back to the conversation, her cheeks no longer hot from the embarrassment that Lady Brittain’s remarks about her father had brought.

  “I should be very glad to be included,” she replied quickly, even though she had very little idea as to what Lady Brittain was saying. “You are very kind to think of me.”

  Lady Brittain made to say something more, only for her eyes to flare wide as she looked over Ellen’s shoulder, her breath catching at the sight she was taking in.

  “Can it be?” she whispered, one hand reaching out to grasp Lady Sayers’ arm. “Yes, I believe it is!”

  Resisting the urge to turn around and look at whomever Lady Brittain was speaking of, Ellen kept her tone steady. “Is there someone there of importance, Lady Brittain?”

  “Yes, yes, indeed,” Lady Brittain hissed, her hand still tight on Lady Sayers’ arm. “I was introduced to him only yesterday but now it seems he is to join the soireé this evening also.” She smiled brightly at Ellen, who attempted to appear interested whilst wondering just when they might extract themselves from the lady.

  “It is the new Marquess of Lindale,” Lady Brittain said softly.

  Ellen caught her breath, her eyes flinging themselves toward Lady Sayers, who looked just as astonished as she now felt. Her heart began to hammer furiously in her chest as the name repeated itself over and over in her mind.

  Lady Brittain continued heedlessly, not at all aware of the effect her words were having on Ellen. “He has come with Viscount Castleton, it seems. They must be well acquainted, then, although I confess I am a little surprised, given the difference in their titles.” She shrugged and then continued, her voice holding more and more excitement with almost every word she spoke. “I think he would be an excellent gentleman for you, Lady Ellen. You are the daughter of an earl after all!”

  “A slightly disgraced daughter of an earl,” Ellen muttered, before giving in to the urge to turn around and moving just a little so that she might stand by Lady Sayers instead of in front of her. Her eyes sought out the gentleman in question but, given that there were so many of them all around her, she could not tell which one she was meant to be studying. Her chest tightened painfully as Lady Brittain cheerfully pointed him out, her gaze finally landing on the gentleman and her heart burning furiously with an anger that she knew he did not fully deserve.

  The new Marquess of Lindale was a little younger than she had expected, given that the deceased marquess had lived many years. Was it his son? She frowned, recalling that her father had told her that the man had no son. A cousin, then?

  “I thought the title would have passed to the Marquess’ brother,” she found herself saying, and Lady Brittain nodded fervently.

  “Well,” Lady Brittain replied in a most eager voice. “It seems that Lord Henry Montgomery, the prior marquess’ younger brother, did not have any children of his own before he passed away. Therefore, the title went to a distant relation of the marquess, I believe. That gentleman.”

  A little calmer now, Ellen looked carefully at the gentleman and allowed herself to study him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a strong back, but yet there was a reserve to him that she had not expected. Those with high titles, such as a marquess, usually made their way through society with great ease and confidence. There was usually an inordinate amount of pride in themselves, as though they deserved the praise, respect, and almost reverence of those beneath them, but she did not think that would be the case with this particular marquess.

  An idea came to her mind almost immediately. What if she were to acquaint herself with the marquess? Would there then be any possibility of her making her way into his home, perhaps by way of a visit, and thereafter, beginning to search for the late marquess’ diary? She could not simply ask him to do so, could not simply demand that he give her what she asked. For all she knew, the diary might well have been destroyed, or be amongst the marquess’ possessions back at his estate.

  But would it be worth trying?

  The answer was with her in an instant. Of course, any opportunity to do so would be worth attempting. It would mean that she would have to pretend to be interested in the marquess’ company, that she would have to give the impression that all was well. He could not know of the diary or that she considered the late marquess responsible for the difficulties with her father at present. That would all depend, however, on whether or not he would be willing to greet her also. He might consider her to be unworthy of his attention.

  “I think I should like to be introduced,” she said quietly as her aunt shot her a sharp look. “You said you were acquainted with him, Lady Brittain?”

  Lady Brittain nodded eagerly. “I should be glad to introduce you, Lady Ellen,” she said, looking to Lady Sayers, who nodded her agreement. “Come now, let us do so whilst he is not surrounded by other guests. I am sure he will be very soon, for there is a great deal of interest in his arrival in London.”

  Pasting a gentle smile on her face and completely ignoring the anxiety that swirled about her soul, Ellen allowed Lady Brittain to lead her toward Lord Lindale. When he looked toward her, she felt her stomach twist with a mixture of nervousness and anger. She took him in as Lady Brittain quickly made the introductions, making first Lady Sayers known to him and then Ellen. His eyes were a light brown and filled with what Ellen took to be curiosity, although there was still a reserve about him that spoke of perhaps uncertainty or a lack of confidence—which was rather surprising, given his status. She had to admit that he was handsome, with his warm eyes, square jaw, firm lips, and broad shoulders.

  “Lord Lindale,” she murmured, dropping into a curtsy. “How very good to meet you.”

  3

  “Your first sennight has gone very well indeed,” Lord Castleton declared, and Colin nodded, a small smile spreading across his face. “You have been introduced to a great many gentlemen and ladies, you have accepted many invitations, and found yourself a gentleman whose attention is very often sought out.”

  “That is true, certainly,” Colin admitted, finding that he was not as pleased as his friend over the latter remark. “Although I do not think that anyone wants my company solely for myself.” He grimaced as Lord Castleton laughed.

  “You mean they wish you there so that they might foist their daughters upon you or introduce you to their sister or cousin,” he replied as Colin nodded fervently. “Or because they believe that you might be willing to spread a little of your fortune around at their game of cards?”

  “I have avoided that so far,” Colin replied as Lord Castleton chuckled. “I understand the game, certainly, but I am not confident enough to include any coin.”

  “That is wise,” Lord Castleton replied, nodding. “But I am afraid that, with your title such as it is, there will be those in the ton who are eager only for your company simply because of your fortune, your status, or the fact that you are, as yet, unwed.” He lifted one shoulder. “It is to be expected.”

  Colin sighed and ran one hand over his eyes. He had expected that coming to London and joining the ton would be difficult, but he had not thought it would be so very intricate and complex. Save for Lord Castleton, he did not feel as though he knew any other gentleman or lady very well indeed and was not at all certain that anything they spoke of had been of benefit to either himself or to them.

  “They will not speak honestly or openly to you,” Lord Castleton warned, getting up to help himself to Colin’s brandy. “That is not something you should expect.”

  “I find that very strange indeed,” Colin replied truthfully. “When I worked on the farm, we all spoke the truth to each other, without hesitation. Now I find myself in a place where the very opposite happens.”

  Lord Castleton shrugged and took a sip of his brandy. “It will take a little getting used to, I am sure,” he answered, as though it was not anything of consequence. “It seems as though everyone in London is talking of you.”

  Colin rolled his eyes. “They talk about me because I am a marquess, with wealth and title, as you have said,” he stated as Lord Castleton chuckled. “And because I am not quite as proper as they might expect.” He had been all too aware of the differences in speaking between himself and other members of the ton this last sennight. There were times where he had simply stood and listened to what had been said, worrying that he might speak improperly and make a fool of himself otherwise.