Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (18 page)

“My clerk was able to help me breeze right through that mountain of briefs.”

She and Beverly moved forward into the box and greeted Lady Caroline and her mother, then made the introductions to their party, including Mrs. Leonard. “We didn’t think you had theater plans tonight, my lord.”

“I wasn’t sure what I would be doing when we last spoke, but I had the good fortune to bump into Lady Caroline and her mother while on my way to an afternoon appointment.” Elise watched him turn a radiant smile to that young woman’s divine visage. “Of course when she mentioned there was a new play opening tonight, I thought it would be a delightful way to spend an evening, and Lady Caroline the perfect, most delightful guest to accompany me. His Grace has often said I could use his box so naturally I assumed it was free since they were going elsewhere tonight.”

Elise wanted to strangle him. He knew damn well she and Beverly were coming tonight. The bounder was toying with her. But why? He’d made his decision, and broke her heart in the process. She’d not fall for whatever game this was that he attempted to play with her. Turning a smile of her own on the Captain, she said, “Have I thanked you yet for the invitation, sir? We—Lady Beverly and myself—adore the theater. Don’t we?” Elise looked to Beverly for help making the entire situation seem less awkward.

“Yes, indeed.” Beverly and the Viscount took their seats in the front of the box, with Beverly seated next to Lady Randolph and Mrs. Leonard. Lady Randolph continued gazing at the goings-on below them with rapt attention, Elise didn’t think the older woman would be bothersome to Beverly or she would have offered to sit next to both chaperons so Beverly could enjoy the performance. This left Elise and Captain Wilson to sit behind them, which meant she sat next to Michael and Caroline. And as fate would have it, she had to take the seat to his right, stuck between the captain and Michael.

She twined her hand in the captain’s arm, and asked, “Have you seen this play before? Or did you perchance read a review? I’ve never heard of it. I think it may be a new one.” God, she hated making small talk, and the captain was very quiet. It was taking everything she had to draw him out and converse with her. Admittedly she was nervous with Michael so close, but she knew propriety dictated that she focus her attention on her escort for the evening, not the blackguard seated to her left.

The gas-lights dimmed and all conversation in the hall did as well. The heavy curtain lifted and the production began. Elise watched the characters on stage, giving no mind to their performances. She couldn’t follow along with the story at all because of
his
presence, and she realized at that moment, how she handled herself this evening was likely the most important thing she would ever do. If she did anything that could be construed as humiliating to the family or Lord Camden—especially as he was with a young lady—her brother would ship her north. Banish her to the banks of the river Dee and that crumbling pile of stones her ancestors called a hunting box.

Of course Michael was beyond handsome tonight—as usual—and dressed in trousers, the latest male fashion. His companion was gowned in a peach silk and tulle creation, adorned with tiny seed pearls on the bodice. The outfit complemented Lady Caroline’s skin and hair beautifully. If Elise could just get beyond the fact that she still loved him, she’d have to say that they made a striking, handsome pair—his dark good looks and cosmopolitan flair alongside her classic features and delicate grace, his affable personality and her demure sweetness.

When they reached the intermission, Michael, Captain Wilson and Lord Huddleston went to fetch refreshments. Beverly, Anne Leonard, and Lady Randolph exchanged pleasantries, forcing Elise to do the same with Caroline. It wasn’t a simple task. Elise casually brought up the merits of using gas to light the theater instead of candles, and Caroline’s only comment on the matter was that the gas smelled. Elise complimented her on her peach-and-white satin hat with its three small ostrich feathers that curled smartly around her ear. The girl gave Elise a pretty little simpering look, and said, “Mama says it frames my face nicely.”

At that moment, she gave up trying to chat with the girl. Michael deserved someone vacuous like her as his wife. Caroline didn’t appear the type who would ever contradict him and gave the impression of a marionette waiting to have her strings pulled.

Elise excused herself, then whispered to Beverly of her need to visit the lady’s retiring room. The footman opened the door for her and when she stepped through, ran straight into Michael’s solid frame, knocking his punch onto her chest, staining the bodice of her gown with the pink, fruity concoction.

It took all she had not to ring a peel on him, but she bit her tongue. And not for the first time tonight. He apologized, quickly handing his now empty cups to Captain Wilson, and pulled a kerchief from his waistcoat pocket, handing it to her as she continued to walk away.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

She ignored him as she pushed her way through the crowd. If she hadn’t needed the retiring room before, she did now. Punch trickled down between her breasts. As much as she wanted to, she very well couldn’t dry herself in front of all the patrons of the theater. To do so would be uncouth, and since the gossip pages were already going to have fun reporting on this as it was, she would not give them anything else to anger her brother.

He caught her elbow and stopped her. “I asked where you were going.”

“To try and clean this mess up,” she hissed at him. Once started, she couldn’t stop. “You’ve effectively ruined my evening. Not just with this.” She gestured angrily at her ruined dress. “But by your unwelcome presence.” She glanced around hoping no one paid attention to her, but spied the reproving glances of several matrons. She groaned. “And just
why
are you here? You knew I was coming tonight. Haven’t you done enough to me already, that you must hound me wherever I go?”

“I haven’t begun to do half the things I’d like to,” he whispered.

“Stop it! You’re the one who said there could never be anything between us. So why won’t you listen to your own words and act accordingly? Quit trying to confuse us both.” She shoved her elbow into his ribs as she pushed past him to enter the retiring room. “Excuse me.”

When she returned to the box, she discovered Michael standing by the door with her pelisse. The second act had already begun, so the two of them stood alone in the tiny anteroom of the box.

“I thought you might want to cover the dress. Or we could leave if you wish.”

“I cannot leave Beverly with Viscount Huddleston and Captain Wilson. Even with Captain Wilson’s sister with them, it would ruin her. So thanks to you, I’m forced to remain in this wet gown the rest of the evening.”

“I’ve apologized already for that.”

“Who said I accepted?” She snatched her pelisse from his hands and put it over her own shoulders, shrugging away from his attempt to assist her. “None of this would have happened if you weren’t here, you dolt. You knew I was coming. Why did you come here? Tonight of
all
nights?”

“Because I had to see, to make sure, that the two men you were coming with were worthy of you.”

“It is none of your concern, Michael,” she hissed as she nodded her head to the footman letting him know she was ready for him to open the door.

“If you haven’t accepted my apology yet,” Michael whispered into her ear from behind, “you soon will.”

As she entered the box, to her amazement, she saw Captain Wilson, her escort for the evening, seated in their box next to Caroline Randolph, heads together whispering and laughing as though they’d known each other for years.

Like Elise and Michael.

“I’ll explain later.”

She glared at him, not sure whether to slap him or thank him.

S
ociety watchers in attendance at Covent Garden that evening were all agog over the fact that a certain earl entered with one young lady on his arm and left with a completely different young lady. The information was quickly noted and within minutes was on the way to the
Times’
and the
Post’s
gossip writers.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

“W
ell, that was an interesting turn of events was it not?” Beverly said the next morning as they breakfasted in Elise’s room.

“Yes.” Elise buttered her toast. “And I think he planned the entire thing.”

“Come now, Elise, Michael couldn’t have possibly planned bumping into you. How was he to know you’d be leaving the box as he entered?”

“He might not have planned spilling his drink over me, but he had something concocted along that line.” She ripped off a vicious bite from her slice of bread. “I’m sure of it,” she said through a full mouth. There was nothing he could say to change her mind. Michael knew she’d be there, and he inserted himself into her evening plans.

“I asked Huddleston about Wilson and Lady Caroline, and it turns out the two have known each other ages.” Beverly stirred sugar into her tea. “It wasn’t until recently that he’d thought to pursue her. Her father refused his suit last year, telling the captain that his wife thought to get a title for their daughter.” She met her friend’s gaze and sipped. “Caroline is, after all, an only child.”

“Beverly, Caroline is a nice girl. But she hasn’t a single thought of relevance in her head. Admittedly, she is quite beautiful, but for how long can looks keep a man attracted to a woman?” Elise cut into her ham, and forked a piece.

“I don’t know... until they fade perhaps?”

Elise thought a while, then shook her head. “No. Judging from what I’ve seen of successful marriages, I’ve observed that it’s those unions where the woman is educated beyond needlepoint and watercolors that are the happiest. Think on it. Don’t you agree that it’s when a man does not have decent conversation at home, it’s
then
that he seeks fulfillment in another woman’s company?”

Beverly chuckled. “Somehow I don’t think it’s conversation a man is getting from his mistress.”

“No, of course not. But, the inability to hold dialogue on topics of interest to the man is a direct factor in causing that man to seek more... preferable companionship. Why, it’s the very reason the demi-monde exists. Think about the women of that set. They’re always patronizing some art form, political cause, or some such. Some even admit to being blue-stockings. Now I ask you, why do
you
think the men are attracted to them? Not all of them are pretty.”

“Because the men can get what they want with no strings attached,” Beverly said, “unlike in marriage.”

“Ah, but the women get what they want as well. For some it’s trinkets, clothing or a home. For others it’s that male voice to lend credence to, or help them promote, their own liberal ideas.”

“You really have thought this through, haven’t you? You’re not, by chance, thinking of joining them?”

Elise wanted to laugh at the genuine concern evident in Beverly’s eyes. “Of course not. It was merely an observation. That’s all.”

“Good. Because I’d hate to hear what your brother might do to you if you said to him you wanted to begin holding literary readings, or worse—sponsoring philosophers or poets.”

“That will never happen. Don’t worry.”

A knock sounded and a housemaid appeared, stating that His Grace wished her presence in the dining room. The girls exchanged worried glances. They’d chosen to breakfast in Elise’s room specifically to avoid her brother until they could arrive at some explanation for what occurred last night. She was sure Michael had already informed Ren that
he
had accompanied Elise, Beverly and Huddleston home last night. Now her brother was going to question
her
about what
she
had done to precipitate the events.

She held no illusion as to her brother believing her innocent. In his eyes, she was still the same Elise and
always
was the one culpable for
any
incident regarding Michael. Hopefully Michael would be downstairs. Not because she wanted to see him, but because he could help clear her of any wrongdoing.

“Big brother beckons and I don’t think he means to wait until I’ve finished eating.” When Beverly set her napkin on the table and moved to rise, Elise put up her hand, stopping her. “You needn’t come. It’s me he’s angry with. And it wouldn’t do to have that anger spill over onto you. Especially since tomorrow night he’s hosting your ball. Let’s keep you in his good graces.”

Elise entered the dining room to find Ren and Lia seated, having already breakfasted and enjoying a cup of coffee. Except her brother didn’t appear to be enjoying anything at the moment. Before him, spread on the table was a newspaper. Her heavy heart plummeted. She couldn’t take another step.

“Sit!”

Of all the many chairs surrounding the long table, Elise took a seat next to her sister-in-law for two reasons. First, Ren couldn’t reach her there to strangle her and, second, she hoped Lia would provide support in managing her brother’s wrath.

“Would you like to read the gossip column?” He pushed the publication toward her. She recognized this tone of voice, tinged with barely restrained anger. It was one she was familiar with.

She shook her head. “I don’t have to. I was there. I know what happened.”