The Earl's Runaway Bride Page 2

  Lydia gave a huge sigh.

  ‘I am so relieved!’ She linked arms with Felicity again and gave a little tug. ‘Come along, now: we must keep moving or we shall grow too chilled. It is only April, after all.’

  They walked on in amicable silence for a few more minutes.

  ‘Is that what you wished to say to me,’ asked Felicity, ‘that we are to go to town?’

  ‘Well, yes, but there is a little more than that, my dear.’

  ‘Now, Lydia, what mischief are you planning?’

  ‘None, I promise you, but there is something you should know.’ Lady Souden gave her arm a little shake. ‘Remember, Fee, you have given me your word!’

  ‘Very well. Tell me.’

  ‘The Earl of Rosthorne will be in town.’

  Felicity’s heart lurched. The Earl of Rosthorne—Nathan Carraway, her handsome hero. The man who still haunted her dreams, but had proved to be a master of seduction. She swallowed nervously, trying to remain calm.

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘James wrote to me—’

  ‘Lydia, you haven’t told him—!’

  ‘Of course not, I promised I would not give you away. No, his letter was full of the plans for the celebrations. He said that Carraway had been ordered to London, not only because he is now Earl of Rosthorne, but because he is—or was—a military man and Prinny is quite desperate to impress. The royal parks are to be opened, there will be displays, and fireworks, and—oh, Felicity, it will be so exciting—are you not the teeniest bit curious to see it all?’

  ‘Not if there is the teeniest risk of meeting Lord Rosthorne!’

  Lydia turned her wide, blue-eyed gaze upon her.

  ‘I know he treated you badly, my dear, but are you not curious to see him again?’

  Felicity hesitated. Nathan had rescued her, given up his lodging for her, bought her new clothes. He had taught her to love him and then broken her heart.

  ‘No. I have no desire to see him again.’

  ‘Felicity, you are blushing. You still care for him.’

  ‘I do not! It was five years ago, Lydia. I am over him.’

  ‘Well, perhaps you no longer cry yourself to sleep every night, as you did when we first took you in, but at times, when you are sitting quietly, there is that faraway look in your eye—’

  Felicity laughed.

  ‘Lydia, you are too romantic! That faraway look was most likely exhaustion, having had the care of two energetic boys for the day!’

  ‘Well, it does not matter what you say, I have the liveliest curiosity to see the man who—’

  ‘Lydia!’ Felicity stopped abruptly. ‘Lydia, you promised me when I came to you that you would respect my secret.’

  ‘And so I shall, my love, but—’

  ‘Pray let us say no more about the odious Lord Rosthorne! If you insist upon my coming to town with you then I will do so, but pray understand that upon no account must he know I am there. It would be embarrassing to everyone.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I am dead to him now.’

  Lydia threw her arms around her, enveloping Felicity in a warm, scented embrace. ‘Oh, my dear friend, you know I would do nothing that would make you miserable!’

  ‘No, of course you would not. Not intentionally, that is.’ Felicity glanced up. ‘The rain clouds are gathering. The sun will soon disappear; I think we should go indoors now.’

  They did not speak of London again, or of the Earl of Rosthorne, but when Felicity retired to her room that night he was there, in her head, as close and as real as ever.

  ‘The Earl of Rosthorne, sir.’

  The butler’s sonorous tones filled the small, book-lined study, investing the announcement with considerable gravitas. Nathan squared his shoulders. After twelve months he was still not comfortable with the title. The gentleman sitting behind the large mahogany desk jumped up immediately and came forward to meet him. Nathan regarded him with interest. He knew Sir James Souden only by reputation but even if he had not heard that the man was an active supporter of Lord Wellesley, he would have been disposed to like him, for there was a look of intelligence and humour in his face and an energy in that lean body. Here was a man who was used to getting things done. He was smiling now at Nathan and waving him towards a chair.

  ‘Welcome, my lord, and thank you for coming so promptly.’

  Nathan bowed.

  ‘Your message was waiting for me when I arrived in town this morning, Sir James.’

  ‘Ah, but knowing the object of this meeting I would not have been surprised if you had put it off.’

  The twinkle in the older man’s eyes drew a wry grin from Nathan.

  ‘Always best to attack the unpalatable without delay, I find.’

  ‘Spoken like a true military man.’ Sir James gestured towards the decanters lined up on a side table. ‘You’ll take a glass with me, my lord? I’ve a very fine cognac—stolen from the French, of course, so you might appreciate it.’

  ‘I would, thank you.’

  ‘So,’ said Sir James, when the glasses had been filled and his guest was sitting in one of the comfortable padded armchairs that faced the desk. ‘So, my lord, how much have you been told?’

  ‘Only that his Highness wants me to help with the entertaining of his royal visitors.’

  ‘Aye. He’s turning the town into a damned bear-garden for the summer,’ said Sir James, shaking his head. ‘But there, it’s all in a good cause. Peace, don’t you know, so I suppose we shouldn’t complain.’

  Nathan sipped at his brandy. It was smooth and aromatic and definitely not to be hurried.

  ‘I am at a loss to know why he has summoned me here,’ he said at last. ‘I would have thought there were hostesses enough in London to entertain all the crowned heads of Europe. Mine is a bachelor establishment; my mother does not come to town. You may know she is an invalid and spends all her time at Rosthorne Hall—’

  ‘Oh, his Highness ain’t looking for you to give parties and all that sort of nonsense. The ladies will be falling over themselves to do that—and in fact I have asked Lady Souden to come to town for that very purpose—not that she needs any persuading to hold a party! But the Regent wants military men around him, especially to accompany Marshal Blücher: the old Prussian is so highly esteemed that even Prinny is in awe of him. There will be so many of ’em, you see: Blücher, the King of Prussia and all those princes, not to mention Tsar Alexander. And his sister, of course, the Grand Duchess… So we are all recruited to help: an army of attendants to ensure that his royal guests are not left to themselves for a moment. Your first task is to head up the Tsar’s escort from Dover. I know, I know, my boy; I can see from your face that you don’t like the idea.’

  ‘You are right,’ replied Nathan. ‘I begin to wish I had never left the army!’

  Sir James laughed and got up to refill their glasses.

  ‘Do you miss it, my lord, the military life?’

  ‘It was the only life I had ever known, until last year. I obtained my commission in the Guards when I was sixteen.’

  ‘The title came as a surprise?’

  Nathan nodded. ‘Quite. The old Earl, my uncle, had three healthy sons, so I never expected to inherit. But the two youngest boys perished in Spain.’ Nathan paused for a moment, recalling the icy winters and scorching summers: the torrential rain, cloying mud, flies and disease that took their toll of the troops. It was said more men were killed by disease and the weather than by Bonaparte’s army. The scar across his left eye began to ache. Too many memories. He shook them off. ‘Their loss may well have hastened the old man’s end. He died at the beginning of the year ’12 and his heir took a fall on the hunting field less than six months later. When the news came I thought it my duty to come home. Boney was on the run, after all.’ He allowed himself a little smile. ‘Since then I have been so tied up with my new duties I’ve had no time to miss the army.’

  ‘And do your new duties include looking for a wife? You will need an heir.’
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  Nathan’s reply was short. ‘My cousin is my heir.’

  ‘The ladies won’t see it that way.’ Sir James winked. ‘You are now the biggest catch on the Marriage Mart.’

  An iron claw twisted itself around Nathan’s guts. ‘I do not think so.’

  ‘Oh? From all I’ve heard of you, my boy, you have never had trouble attracting women. Your reputation precedes you,’ said Sir James, when Nathan raised his brows. ‘It is said that Europe is littered with the hearts you have broken. Although to your credit, I have never heard that you seduced innocent young virgins.’

  No, thought Nathan bitterly. Only once did I break that rule, to my cost!

  His lip curled. ‘With such a reputation I would expect the doting mothers to keep their chicks away from me.’

  ‘But they won’t, believe me. They will be planning their own campaigns once they know you are in town.’ Nathan’s hand briefly touched his temple and Sir James smiled. ‘And don’t think that scar will frighten them away—’tis more likely to fascinate ’em; it will add to your attractions!’

  Hurriedly Nathan rose. ‘If there is nothing else to discuss I must be away.’ He saw his host’s brows rise and tried to moderate his tone. ‘I do not think there is much that can be done until the allied leaders arrive next month.’

  ‘You are right, of course. We will meet again before then to discuss our roles.’ Sir James chuckled. ‘Thank God his Highness is too busy designing new uniforms for his troops and working on his plans for a grand spectacle in Hyde Park to worry about us. Goodbye, then, for the moment, my lord. If you have no other engagements, you might like to join me for dinner on Wednesday night. I am expecting Lady Souden to be here by then, but we shall not be entertaining: just a snug little dinner, if you care for it.’

  Nathan bowed. ‘My presence in town is not generally known yet, so I have no fixed engagements.’ He bowed. ‘Thank you, sir. I should be delighted to join you.’

  London, thought Felicity gloomily as she gazed out of the carriage window, was crowded and noisy and so very dirty. The roads were thick with rubbish and droppings from the hundreds of horses and oxen that plodded up and down, the cobbles only visible in the wheel tracks or where a crossing sweeper cleared a temporary path for a pedestrian and earned a penny for his pains. The cries of the flower-seller mingled with those of the knife-grinder and the hot-pie man as they hawked their wares from street to street. Rows of tall houses lined the road, mile upon mile of brick and stone with barely a patch of grass to be seen.

  In one corner of the carriage, Lady Souden’s severe-looking dresser was snoring gently while Lydia herself was sitting bolt upright, staring out of the window, her eyes shining and a little smile of anticipation lifting her mouth. She was born to be a society hostess, thought Felicity. She delighted in parties and balls and could not understand Felicity’s reluctance to come to town. After all, she reasoned, if Felicity refused to go into society, what did it matter if she was in London or at Souden?

  But it did matter. Felicity knew that there was danger in London.

  Nathan Carraway was in London.

  Chapter Two

  The carriage drew up outside Sir James’s house in Berkeley Square and Felicity followed Lydia through the gleaming front door and into the study on the ground floor, where Sir James was waiting for them. Lydia ran in, cast aside her swansdown muff and threw herself into her husband’s arms. He kissed her soundly before holding her away from him.

  ‘Well, well now, puss, have you missed me?’ he said, laughing. ‘What will Miss Brown think of this very unfashionable display of affection?’

  ‘Miss Brown is delighted with this display of domestic harmony,’ murmured Felicity, her grey eyes twinkling.

  Sir James grinned at her, keeping one arm about his wife’s still tiny waist.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. And I am glad to see you, Miss Brown. I hope Lady Souden has warned you, we are to be very busy for the next two months.’

  ‘She told me you would be entertaining a great deal, Sir James.’

  ‘Aye, dukes, duchesses, crown princes—and never a moment to call our own. What do you say to that, Miss Brown?’

  ‘I say Lady Souden is equal to the challenge, sir.’

  ‘Aye, so do I,’ declared Sir James, giving his wife another kiss. ‘But I rely upon you to look after her when I am not here, Miss Brown. Lydia is far too careless of her health, especially now.’

  Felicity met his eyes and said resolutely, ‘You may depend upon me, Sir James. I would not wish any harm to come to Lady Souden or the unborn child.’

  Sir James bestowed a grateful smile upon her.

  ‘Thank you, I am sure I may. Lydia has told me of your fear of going out, Miss Brown, and I will do everything I can to lessen your own discomfiture. A carriage shall be at your disposal at all times, you have only to say the word. Now upstairs and unpack, the pair of you, for we have a guest for dinner.’

  ‘Oh?’ Lydia clapped her hands delightedly. ‘Is it someone I know?’

  ‘No, a young man I met only t’other day, but he is very agreeable, I assure you. He will set all the young ladies’ hearts a-flutter this summer, I have not a doubt.’

  ‘Oh, who?’ cried Lydia. ‘Do tell me, my love!’

  Sir James kissed her nose.

  ‘He is a young nobleman. Rich, handsome and most clearly in want of a wife.’ He looked from Felicity to Lady Souden, his smile growing. ‘It is the new Earl of Rosthorne.’

  Felicity’s hands tightened on her reticule. What cruel trick was fate playing upon her, to force the earl upon her notice so soon? She cast an anguished look at Lydia, who attempted a little laugh as she turned to her husband.

  ‘R-Rosthorne? Well, bless me! How is this, my dear?’

  ‘He is newly arrived in town,’ explained Sir James. ‘We met to discuss the arrangements for looking after his Highness’s guests at the forthcoming Peace Celebrations and he struck me as a very pleasant young man. I thought it would please you to meet him, my love.’

  ‘It—it does,’ stammered Lydia. ‘It is a little sudden, that is all. Having just arrived…’

  ‘Well, he is not expecting any formal ceremony. Just a snug little dinner, I told him, so off you go and put on one of those pretty gowns of yours, my love. You are required to look charming tonight, nothing more.’

  ‘Then perhaps Lady Souden should come upstairs and rest for a little while,’ suggested Felicity, edging towards the door.

  With another slightly hysterical laugh Lydia allowed Felicity to lead her away, leaving Sir James still chuckling to himself.

  ‘I am sorry, Fee,’ she whispered as they went up the stairs. ‘I had no idea James would invite Rosthorne to the house!’

  Felicity sighed. ‘It was inevitable, I suppose, but I did not expect it to be today.’

  Lydia squeezed her hand. ‘You must not worry, my love, you need not see him. This house has so many rooms the earl could be living here and not know of your existence!’

  Despite Lady Souden’s assurances Felicity found herself growing ever more anxious as the hour approached for Lord Rosthorne’s arrival. For five years she had done everything in her power to remain hidden from Nathan Carraway and the thought that he would shortly be in the same house terrified her. Not least because she had an overwhelming desire to see him again.

  It was dangerous, but she could not resist. A few minutes after Lydia had gone down to the drawing room, Felicity slipped out of the little chamber that Lady Souden had decreed should be set aside as her own private sitting room. The entrance hall of Souden House extended up to the roof and a glazed dome provided natural light for the ornate staircase that rose from a central point to the half-landing before splitting into two flights that curved around the side walls to the first floor and the main reception rooms. From there a narrower stair curled up to the second floor where a small balcony overlooked the hall below. During past seasons Felicity had often brought her young charges on to this balcony w
hen Sir James was entertaining and they had spent many a happy hour watching the arrival of the guests. Now she decided to use it for her own purposes.

  Feeling very much like an errant schoolchild, she crept towards the edge of the balcony and sank down. Felicity knew from experience that visitors rarely raised their eyes beyond the ornately decorated first floor. Her dark-grey gown blended well with the shadows and through the balusters she had an excellent view of the front door and entrance hall as well as the first rise of the staircase. The long-case clock on the landing below chimed the hour. It was followed almost immediately by the sounds of an arrival. Felicity knew a sudden, irrational desire to laugh—trust Nathan to be so punctual, it was the soldier in him.

  Then he was there. They were in the same house, the same space. She leaned forward, straining to see him. Her heart turned over as he walked into the hall, but his curly-brimmed beaver hat obscured her view of his face. She had never seen him in anything but his scarlet regimentals and thought him handsome in uniform but now, seeing his tall, athletic figure in the plain black swallowtailed coat, she almost fainted with a wild yearning to run down the stairs and throw herself into his arms. She stifled it, reminding herself of how he had betrayed her. She hated him, did she not? She had vowed she was done with him for ever. Yet here she was, hiding in the shadows, desperate to see the man who had broken her heart.

  He spoke to the footman as he handed over his hat; she could not make out the words but his warm, deep voice awoke a memory and sent a tingle down her spine. She noticed that his brown hair was no longer tied back but cut short so that it just curled over his collar. He turned to ascend the stair and she was momentarily dazzled by his snowy white neckcloth and waistcoat. As he lifted his head she put her hand to her mouth, stifling a cry. A disfiguring scar cut through his left eyebrow and down across his cheek. His face was leaner and his mouth, which she remembered as almost constantly smiling, was turned down, the lines at each side more pronounced. She had expected him to look a little older, but the severity of his countenance shocked her.