Stolen Love (14 page)

He inclined his head. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Willard, Miss Willard."

"It's a pity you did not come a little sooner, Mr. Latchley. Miss Jane Smithwayne and her mother have only just left," Amelia said after Beaufort had nodded to Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry I missed them. Are you well, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked.

"Quite well," she answered, surprised to see him standing in front of her when she looked up. "And yourself, Mr. Latchley?"

He took a seat rather closer to her than she liked. "Fine, thank you." He seemed to be waiting for her to say something, so she used her sewing as an excuse to look away from him.

Mrs. Willard smiled cheerfully at Beaufort. "Miss Smithwayne did not look at all well."

"Miss Smithwayne's health may be more delicate than her mother believes," he said.

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Willard. "She has been foolish enough to fall in love with someone unsuited to her station in life, and now she suffers the consequences."

Elizabeth looked up from her sewing. "How do you know they do not suit, Aunt Mary?"

"Because, if they suited, they would be engaged."

"Perhaps they suit," said Beaufort, looking at Elizabeth as he spoke, "but he cannot return her feeling, however noble it may be."

He knows, thought Elizabeth. He knows Jane loves him, and he does not care. "Jane is the kindest person I know," she said. "I cannot imagine what man would not love her back."

To his credit, Beaufort reddened. "Miss Smithwayne is indeed the kindest of persons," he said. "But that does not seem to have prevented her from loving unwisely."

"I suppose not," she answered, wishing she dared let her scorn show in her voice.

"Whom do you suppose she loves?" Amelia asked.

"I do not presume to guess," Beaufort said, glancing again at Elizabeth, who picked up her handkerchief and pretended to be absorbed in her work. "We are not all lucky enough to fall in love with one who will love us back."

Beaufort became a frequent caller at Tavistock Square, and much to Elizabeth's surprise, he did not spend all his time with Amelia. His strategy for capturing Amelia's heart was obviously one of artful neglect, and as far as Elizabeth could see, it was succeeding wildly. One day, for example, when Beaufort was one of four gentlemen at the house, Amelia sighed loudly and, looking directly at Beaufort, said, "I do wish someone would take me for a walk in the garden. It is simply too wonderful a day to stay inside."

"Perhaps Mr. Stacey would be kind enough to oblige you," Beaufort replied. "Your cousin was just explaining Mr. Rousseau to me, and I should like to hear the rest of what she has to say."

Naturally Mr. Stacey was only too happy to oblige, and Amelia had to take her walk without Mr. Latchley. His indifference was almost more than Amelia could bear. She began to reserve her most fetching smiles for Beaufort. Her blue eyes were never more lively than when they were settled on him. She was careful not to let him become too certain of her, but her interest in him never flagged. Already captivating, she became more captivating still whenever Mr. Latchley seemed in danger of lapsing into his infuriating aloofness.

Three days elapsed without a visit from Beaufort Latchley. Then the Willards received an invitation to spend a week at Greenweald, the country estate of Mr. David Lillick. Amelia did not want her mother to accept the invitation until she discovered that Mr. Latchley had already sent his acceptance.

Greenweald had belonged to the Lillicks for over six generations, always providing its master with a generous income worthy of one of the oldest families in southern England. David Lillick, esquire, the current master of Greenweald, was a gentleman of about forty years of age whose wife, some ten years his junior, was devoted to him. Mrs. Lillick had married for love. She knew the match was considered beneath her husband, and she never forgot the favor he had done her by marrying her.

The primary purpose of the Lillicks' party was to allow Mrs. Lillick to show off her husband's generosity. She had at last given birth to a son, and Mr. Lillick had demonstrated his gratitude by presenting her with a diamond choker said by some to have cost upward of ten thousand pounds.

The Willards arrived at Greenweald to find that most of the guests were
already present. The Benford-Smiths, the Honorable James Aston and his wife, and
one Mr. Stephen Martindale had arrived earlier that morning. To Amelia's joy, Beaufort Latchley arrived not long after they did. Of the guests, Elizabeth liked Mr. Martindale the most. He was a widower of about forty-five years who had taken it upon himself to see that everyone remained amused. Mr. Martindale was not handsome—his features were too uneven and his figure too round—but it was impossible not to like him and think him a very amiable gentleman.

The ladies had all been to admire young master Lillick, and afterward both ladies and gentlemen were taken on a tour of the house and gardens. Mr. Martindale had been a guest at Greenweald several times before, and he provided a commentary that kept Elizabeth smiling. He had it on good authority that the Greenweald flagstones dated back to the twelfth century and that one in particular had been stepped upon by a pope, though he could not be sure which it was, which went for both the pope and the flagstone.

When the tour was over and the guests were back inside, they were agreeably surprised to discover there was more than enough time for a game or two of cards before they needed to dress for supper. Elizabeth was glad they had decided to come to Greenweald. Once away from her mother, Lucy Benford-Smith was tolerable company, and Mr. Martindale alone was worth the visit. Elizabeth was pleased when she and Mr. Martindale were partners in a game of whist against Miss Benford-Smith and Beaufort Latchley. She and Mr. Martindale won both games handily because Lucy seemed to take pride in playing poorly. Beaufort took the losses with good grace, considering that he had wanted to win.

Even after the cards were put away, Beaufort lingered near Elizabeth. He grimaced at her and, to Elizabeth's surprise, followed her to a seat by the fire. "One day you and I will have to be partners at cards, Miss Willard," he said with another grimace she supposed was meant to be a smile. "You played admirably."

"Thank you, Mr. Latchley. But Mr. Martindale also played well."

"Indeed he did. I very much dislike losing, Miss Willard. I think with you as my partner I must certainly win."

"You have more confidence in my skill than I do, Mr. Latchley."

"I consider myself to be an excellent judge of the ability and character of those whom I meet."

"And you judge me to be a superior card player, Mr. Latchley?"

Beaufort smiled. "Among other things, Miss Willard, yes."

Elizabeth laughed. "I'm grateful you think so, Mr. Latchley," she said, rising as she spoke. "If you will excuse me, I believe it is time to dress for supper."

Once in her room, she sat at her dresser, gazing idly at her reflection. Curls, she decided, would be too much trouble. She was pinning her hair back when Miss Lincoln came in with her dress. The gown was her cousin's but Amelia claimed the color did not become her and had given it to Elizabeth without ever wearing it. Elizabeth did not think the color would have looked badly on Amelia at all. It was a muted rose-colored silk and exactly the kind of dress she had dreamed of wearing someday. The skirt had ruffles at the hem, and the sleeves and collar were trimmed with at least four inches of lace. There were even lace-trimmed bows arranged on the sleeves.

Though Elizabeth's waist was small, it had to be made smaller still to fit into the dress. Miss Lincoln cinched in her corset to make her waist the required seventeen inches and whisked the dress over her head without disturbing a hair. After the relative comfort of her day dress, the rose gown, however beautiful, was a torture to wear.

"How lovely you look, Miss Elizabeth!" exclaimed Miss Lincoln.

"I can hardly breathe," she gasped.

"It can't be helped, Miss Elizabeth. Your cousin could never get into this gown, no matter how much she moaned over it. You should be grateful for your tiny waist."

Elizabeth examined herself in the glass. The pale rose color brought out a similar tint in her own skin. A good thing, she thought, since the dropped shoulders exposed more of her than she was used to. Wishing that Amelia would discard more of her clothes, she pulled on a pair of gloves and went downstairs.

When Elizabeth entered the drawing room, she took a seat by Amelia and began talking with Mr. Martindale. Just as he asked Elizabeth how she felt about visiting a house reputed to be haunted, the steward came in to announce the arrival of Nicholas Villines.

"How wonderful that Mr. Villines was able to come after all!" Amelia exclaimed.

"I did not know Nicholas was invited," Elizabeth said.

"Why, yes, he was. But he said he would not be able to accept the invitation. I told him how disappointed I would be if he did not come." Amelia looked at Mr. Latchley for signs of jealousy.

He obliged her by saying, "I hope you will be too busy to pay much attention to him, Miss Willard."

Amelia's assurance that Nicholas had come on her account seemed to be well placed, for after he greeted the Lillicks he went directly to where Amelia sat. He was wearing evening clothes: close-fitting black trousers, a gray-striped satin waistcoat, and black cutaway coat trimmed with satin. His silk cravat had been tied in an elegant knot and arranged just so against the snowy whiteness of his shirt—in short he was perfectly, if soberly, dressed, every inch the proper gentleman. He looked severe until the moment he smiled.

"You are as beautiful as ever, Miss Willard," he said to Amelia.

She extended her hand to him. "And you are as handsome, Mr. Villines."

"Elizabeth." Nicholas let go of Amelia's hand and turned to her. "Have you been enjoying Greenweald?"

"Oh, yes," she answered. "It's beautiful. And Mr. Martindale has been keeping us all entertained with stories about ghosts, which, by the way, Mr. Latchley, I do not believe in." Nicholas's black eyes flicked to Beaufort, then back to her. "Except," she amended, "very late at night." She thought Nicholas was going to say something, but the announcement of supper prevented him from speaking.

"I seem to have arrived just in time," he said.

Beaufort rose and, after bowing and extending his hand to Elizabeth, said, "I believe I have the honor of taking you in to supper, Miss Elizabeth."

She stood, and as she did she thought she heard Nicholas say very softly, "It seems I was too late after all."

"It is so kind of you, Mr. Latchley, to take Elizabeth in to supper," Amelia said.

"I consider myself fortunate to have such an exquisite partner." For some reason, Beaufort directed his comment more to Nicholas than to Amelia. "Though Mr. Villines is hardly more fortunate than I," he said while Nicholas helped Amelia to stand.

"I am surprised, Mr. Latchley," Elizabeth said as he escorted her to the dining room, "that you have given up the field to Nicholas without even a struggle. I would not have minded if you had taken Amelia instead."

"I do not believe I have given up anything, Miss Willard." To her surprise, he smiled again.

"Now, I am truly amazed."

"And why is that?"

"I have never thought of you as a man given to compliments for the sake of flattery." It was certainly true, but she blushed for saying it so bluntly.

"You are quite correct, Miss Willard, I am not. The truth is never flattery, however complimentary it might be."

If she had not known he was in love with Amelia, Elizabeth would have thought the compliment was meant to be taken seriously.

During supper, she was seated between Mr. Martindale and Mr. Latchley. Nicholas was at the far end of the table with Amelia, but she could not see him unless she deliberately tried. Mr. Aston was across from her, so there was much to distract her from that end of the table. From where she sat she had a view of Mrs. Lillick, resplendent in a pale green-and-blue satin gown with an almost alarming décolletage. She wore the diamond choker around her throat, reaching up several times to run a finger over the stones. When she moved, it sparkled in the light. It was a spectacular piece of jewelry.

To her chagrin, Elizabeth found Beaufort's efforts to draw her out were succeeding. He listened to her attentively, solicited her opinions, and expressed his own so well that by the end of the meal she could begin to understand why Jane had fallen in love with him, though she still believed he did not deserve the honor.

When the men had rejoined the women after having taken a surprisingly short time to enjoy their port and cigars, Miss Benford-Smith was asked to play the piano, and Amelia was easily persuaded to sing. Elizabeth had expected to sit unnoticed, but both Mr. Martindale and Mr. Latchley took seats by her. She had reason to be glad of it, for it gave her an excuse not to watch Nicholas turning pages for Amelia and Miss Benford-Smith.

"Your cousin Amelia sings very prettily," said Mr. Martindale.

"Yes, she does," she agreed.

"Can you be persuaded to sing for us as well?" Beaufort asked.

"It is an unfortunate fact that others do not love to hear me sing quite as much as I love to do so, Mr. Latchley."

"Oh, pshaw," exclaimed Mr. Martindale. "If your singing voice is anything
like your speaking voice, I'll wager it would be a delight to hear."

"I am afraid, gentlemen, that where my cousin's singing lessons were a success, mine were equally a failure."

Amelia's song came to an end just as Elizabeth finished speaking, and the sound of Beaufort and Mr. Martindale laughing could be clearly heard above the polite clapping. Nicholas raised his head to stare across the room.

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T
he next morning over breakfast, Miss Benford-Smith suggested a picnic. The idea was greeted enthusiastically, and after Mrs. Lillick told them the ideal spot was to be found not over an hour's drive away, instructions for the preparation of a picnic lunch were sent to the kitchen.