Lady Eugenia's Holiday Read online

  Did he think he was better than other men? That Eugenia should feel fortunate he chose her to address?

  “Now that we have found the Duke’s status and reputation are beyond reproach, we must accept that any affection he may declare for you is genuine.” Aunt Rose’s smile rejuvenated her ten years. “And now that you know where his interests lie, I can just imagine how you would very much allow yourself to return his adoration.”

  Eugenia was not quite sure that was exactly what she had in mind. However it gave her a great deal to think about.

  Mrs. Penshurst and Herr Mueller came to Grove House for tea that afternoon. When the elderly ladies’ conversation became tedious, to Eugenia’s great surprise, Franz exhibited unexpected perception by asking her to accompany him for a turn about the rear gardens. That removed them both from the elderly ladies’ languorous company.

  She was only too glad to escape. What a sweet man Franz was. Eugenia could not have been more thankful for his companionship.

  “This ist quite splendid.” He clasped his hands behind his back and took in the scenery. “I spend so much time inside practicing and performing … I am grateful for every opportunity to step outside and breathe the fresh air.”

  “I find it a pleasant way to occupy oneself.”

  “You saw your duke last evening, if I am not mistaken?” Franz mentioned casually. “Und most friendly. Then again, he ist your duke?”

  “Rothford explained that he was busy with business affairs. It was just a misunderstanding.” Eugenia feared Franz did not think too well of him since that day at the library when Rothford ignored her.

  “I see.” Franz nodded, contemplating her words. “Und you find this … Rothford’s explanation to be acceptable?”

  “Yes, I do.” She took his placid smile to mean he was pleased regarding the outcome.

  “Gut. Then I shall forgive him as well.” He glanced about the surrounding skies, taking a closer look. “The air ist perhaps not as fresh as Austria. Alas I shall not complain, this ist out-of-doors.” A few more steps and he said, “You must come to mein country one day. You vill like it very much. Until that time ve make preparations and first teach you the language. We begin vith a few words of German.”

  Eugenia laughed. “I don’t think I can learn German. I am much more adept at French.”

  “Come now, Fraulein,” he urged her. “You must try.

  Eugenia learned that bitte means “please” and danke schon means “thank you.”

  “You see. It vill be no time at all before you can scold your lady’s maid for burning your hair with the curling irons and reprimand your seamstress because your gown does not lay just so.” He motioned to the length of his lower limb, illustrating where the offending imaginary garment rested.

  “After I don my dress and have my hair curled, I suppose I should be expected to attend a ball?”

  “Of course, Liebling.” He chuckled, perhaps thinking he had convinced her that she should continue learning German.

  Eugenia stopped short and stared at him. “Liebling … what does that mean?”

  “It ist only an endearment.” He glanced up at her through dark, white-powder-coated lashes as if he had taken a liberty. “If you rather I did not—”

  “No, I find it acceptable.” Eugenia glanced around them, making sure they were indeed alone, and bestowed upon him a shy smile. “When no one is near, if you please.”

  He reacted to the great honor with a wide grin, beaming across his face.

  “Where were we?” Eugenia once again stepped forward, continuing their walk.

  “Ah, yes, you ver acting like a churlish child, scolding your servants.”

  “I’ll have you know that’s ridiculous!” She sent him a playful, nasty glare through narrowed eyes then laughed at the absurdity. “You want to teach me the only phrase I should ever really need to know.”

  “And what should that be?” He focused his complete attention on her.

  “I must know the phrase: ‘May I have this dance?’ or how ever shall I know when a gentleman is asking me to step onto the floor with him?”

  Eugenia really hadn’t expected that she should ever need it here or in London, but they were only playacting.

  “Ah, yes, most ingenious.” He stopped and faced her so she might watch the words form upon his lips. “Darf ich Sie um diesen Tanz, bitten?”

  Franz repeated the words slowly—over and over, until Eugenia could easily say them.

  “Now when I meet an extremely rich Bavarian Baron in London who can manage but only a few words of English …” Eugenia began the fanciful tale.

  “He finds you … die Schonheit … so enchanting, he cannot keep himself from approaching you for a waltz,” Franz continued on with the story.

  “Then out of his mouth would come, “Darf ich Sie um diesen Tanz, bitten?” Eugenia repeated flawlessly. “Because you spent time teaching me bits of German, I will know exactly what it means! Then I will take his arm, curtsy,” Eugenia took Franz’s proffered arm and curtsied, “and reply, danke schon.”

  “Then you vill dance.” He partnered her for a few steps of the waltz.

  Eugenia found it a slight bit awkward because they were roughly the same height. Normally gentlemen were a few inches taller and not looking directly into her eyes.

  “From that single dance with the Baron there will be gossip.” Eugenia stepped away from Franz. “The ton would want to know how I was able to speak to this foreigner.”

  “I do not see how such a thing can be avoided.” Franz shrugged, falling into step beside her. “You and the Baron will be on-dit for weeks on end.”

  Eugenia squealed with laugher! Never had she heard, never thought of anything so absurd.

  “The Baron might become quite popular after you dance vith him,” Franz went on, not bothered by her outburst. “The matchmakers vill seek him out for their own daughters. In the end, dancing vith him vill be wunderbar for his reputation.”

  They giggled and laughed together. The entire scenario was outrageous.

  “Franz, you are horrible for encouraging me,” Eugenia scolded him.

  Perhaps the episode of the Bavarian Baron would not occur, for Eugenia had already met the duke of her dreams here in Brighton. Although she doubted Rothford would begrudge her one dance with a lonely foreigner, especially one of such noble birth. Eugenia knew that in the end she must break his Bavarian heart.

  C’est la vie. C’est l’amour!

  Chapter 5

  Sunday was the Promenade at the Old Ship. Not only had Rothford kept his word but his lavish attention made Eugenia quite the envy of the whole affair.

  “You are absolutely a sight to behold!” Rothford praised Eugenia’s choice of a light blue sprig muslin then turned his attention to her hat. “And where did you get that delightful bonnet?”

  “I purchased it yesterday right here in Brighton at Madame Marchaine’s.” Eugenia turned her head to give him an unobstructed view of her elegant headwear.

  “Very nice. Very nice, indeed.” He pulled her gloved hand through the crook of his arm and placed his hand over hers.

  It did not bother Eugenia that he gently trapped her hand in what could be construed as a possessive way.

  “Will you object if I keep you all to myself?”

  “Just for today, mind.” Eugenia could not help but smile. It delighted her that he should say such a thing when she had begun to believe that he did not care for her.

  They strolled along together. Eugenia felt right at home, dangling upon his arm as if he were a custom-made accessory meant for her. She could not have the slightest complaint regarding his behavior.

  Occasionally he leaned close and whispered into her ear. Nothing of importance, just a little comment or observation that a man in his position might find amusing. Their familiar behavior might have shocked some people, although she did not notice any of the guests fall upon the floor in an apoplectic fit.

  The farther they strolled an
d the more she thought about it, Eugenia grew to believe the Duke of Rothford was the man she had dreamed of all her life. Granted, he had not yet spoken of his love for her, but he must have felt the same as she.

  And he had not kissed her as of yet.

  To be honest, the duke had not even tried. And Eugenia had already decided she would allow him to kiss her. Why should she not? They were all but engaged!

  Just as certain as she was regarding his affection, Eugenia knew Rothford would want to speak to her parents as soon as all parties involved had arrived in London for the Little Season. Even though their initial introduction had not been a proper one, there were conventions to follow when it came to an engagement, and it all had to be done correctly.

  The Duke would have his word with Papa. Then after receiving overwhelming family approval, Rothford would choose the most romantic spot in all of London to ask Eugenia the one important question: “Will you do me the honor of becoming my duchess?”

  Rothford would be quite insistent, professing his love for her. He might try to bribe her with a trinket or two. Of course, in the end, Eugenia would say yes. She and the Duke would have the grandest nuptials of the Season!

  “Lady Eugenia?” Rothford repeated.

  “I’m sorry, my thoughts were drifting.” She blinked and smiled up at him.

  He gazed down upon her and said, “You looked as if you were a hundred miles away.”

  “Perhaps, but we were together, I can assure you.” She giggled, thinking how silly her daydreams were but hoping they would come true all the same.

  “That is comforting to hear.” Rothford stopped and gestured to a nearby bench shaded by a tree where they should sit. “I’m afraid I have some sad news. I am again called to leave and we must part.”

  The news devastated Eugenia. She did not wish them to part just when his attentions were beginning to strengthen, just when she knew he was strongly attached to her.

  “I am to leave in a few hours’ time and I shall return in only a matter of days. I promise you shall scarcely notice my absence.”

  He might as well have said he planned to be absent for an eternity and travel to the ends of the earth!

  “I suggest we do our best to put that unpleasantness aside and concentrate on enjoying this splendid outing together. I remain completely at your disposal.”

  Eugenia pretended his absence would not bother her in the least. She remained silent as he led her toward their friends Penelope and the Honorable Donald Hamby. The foursome shared a table, enjoying their tea.

  Even though she could not staunch her misery at the Duke’s impending departure, Eugenia knew she was the envy of every girl within sight. She could read it on their faces, sense it in their posture as their glances hardened.

  After the tea, card games erupted in the adjacent room. She and Rothford sat for several hands. He was correct about enjoying each other’s company for they passed the time in a pleasant manner.

  Then she noticed his posture stiffen. His gaze darted past her and toward the doorway. She managed a sideward glance and recognized the man he had called Foster from the library. He stood at the door in a most awkward fashion as if he were trying very hard not to be seen.

  Rothford folded his cards and laid them aside. A look and a nod from him told Eugenia to do the same. She did. The Duke made their apologies to the remaining players then led her outside to the garden.

  They stepped under a white latticed gazebo. “It is time, my dear, for me to depart.”

  Eugenia decided that if he were to leave now, she would at least have some assurance of his affection. She wanted him to kiss her and spent her energies on looking as fetching and irresistible as she could manage. She tilted her head and gazed at him in pure adoration.

  Rothford spoke to her, saying something of the particulars of his journey. All Eugenia cared about was that he would be leaving her again.

  She pursed her lips into an adorable moue and batted her lashes to no avail. With only a kiss to the back of her hand and a fond adieu, he was off.

  How very lowering.

  A massive cloud floated overhead, blocking a great deal of the sun. The dimming light grew evident with every passing minute. Dismayed at her lack of appeal, Eugenia remained alone in the growing darkness.

  Why would he leave her without expressing what he truly felt? What Eugenia knew he must feel.

  Sigh after heartfelt sigh, she remained for some number of minutes. Eugenia was not certain how long before she heard footfalls heading in her direction.

  To her utter amazement, she instantly recognized the confident swagger and the familiar rhythmic swing of the arms. It was Rothford. He had returned.

  She did not want to appear anxious at his reappearance and took great effort to restrain herself. Eugenia took a deep breath and held it. Slowly, she allowed it to escape and finally glanced casually up at him.

  The filtered sunlight illuminated the garden. The lattice threw harlequin shadows across his face, giving him a dramatic cast. She was not sure what to expect from him and remained silent. Eugenia gazed up at him, giving him a chance to speak first.

  “I wasn’t entirely satisfied with our farewell,” he said. His words were slow, almost impossible for him to utter. “Before I leave for …”

  She stared wide into his dark eyes. “Amberly,” she finished for him, anxious to see what direction he would take.

  “Yes, Amberly,” he echoed, staring deep into her eyes.

  Every lucid thought in her head left. He sat very close to her on the bench. His proximity fended off the coolness of the deep shade of the cloud.

  At that moment Eugenia felt as if they were of one mind, one heart.

  “I shall miss you while I am away.” His gaze ran over her face, caressed her shoulders, before returning to her eyes. “I shall only be gone for …”

  “Three or four days at the most,” again she answered for him. She was a mindless creature, finishing each sentence he began.

  It was almost as if he had forgotten himself. Perhaps Eugenia had succeeded in distracting him as he had once accused her.

  “It is only for a short while—no longer than is necessary, I can assure you,” he whispered ever so softly. The volume of his voice grew only as he neared, for she felt his breath upon her ear with every word he spoke. “Then, with your permission, I shall take leave of you after a kiss.”

  Her eyelids became heavy and lowered. Her lips pursed ever so slightly in great anticipation of the long-awaited event. She felt quite the half-wit when he placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek.

  He backed away but the retreat lasted only for a moment. Eugenia discovered the same disappointment that dwelled within her was mirrored in his dark, dreamy eyes.

  With a sudden spark, she noticed a new determination overtake him. His hand slid to the back of her head, pulling her toward him until their lips met.

  Disentangling her arms that somehow were wrapped around his neck, he pushed her away. The indiscretion left them both breathless. Eugenia knew it was not merely her reaction. She could hear him gasping for air, see the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

  “I never should have allowed that to happen,” he said, standing from the bench and stepping away.

  Eugenia wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or to himself. She certainly did not regret their kiss.

  “Please forgive me. I will not force my affection upon you again.” He turned away then as if a second thought had occurred to him. He said, “Nor will I ever mention my atrocious behavior ever.”

  Before she had a chance to protest, he left.

  All Eugenia could think of was how wonderful it felt to lose herself in his arms, how wonderful it felt to kiss him—finally—after imagining it for so long. And how wonderful the next time would be. She promised herself there most certainly would be a next time.

  In the days after Rothford’s departure, Eugenia came down with a serious case of the blue devils. She managed with her day-to-day acti
vities such as accompanying Cynthia to their usual rounds of shopping and the lending library. Eugenia found all their public outings completely tedious. She even found it possible to tolerate Penelope’s capricious company.

  Occasionally Herr Mueller included Eugenia on his daily constitutional. She imagined he must have nothing to occupy his time. Perhaps he was taking pity on her in her current state and wished to do his duty as her friend to make her feel better.

  I must be horrid company.

  Eugenia felt so out of sorts she even borrowed some books from the library and read them. She was not sure if this change was due to Cynthia’s influence or from sheer boredom.

  Franz continued to tutor Eugenia on her German. She could barely concentrate, her mind wasn’t at all present, and she found it difficult to keep track of the days that passed.

  The musician had been most amiable company and oftentimes she thought of him as a fixture and constantly underfoot. Then it seemed there were days when she hadn’t seen Franz at all.

  He did not confide in her of his schedule or where he kept himself, nor did Eugenia ask. She supposed he might have been practicing or perhaps Cynthia or Mrs. Penshurst monopolized his time. After all, being his benefactress, Mrs. Penshurst had every right.

  Eugenia filled her empty hours with constant thoughts of Rothford. How his eyes sparkled when he gazed upon her and the timbre of his voice during their last meeting. She pictured the glint of his signet ring before she’d felt the warm touch of his hand brush against her cheek. She remembered the look on his face when his lips claimed hers.

  She so looked forward to his return. The anticipation of his embrace was beyond words. If he did not curb his ardor, they would most certainly be forced to apply for a special license before the start of the Little Season.

  No matter, their brief courtship in Brighton would soon come to an end. After he returned, their life together as man and wife, or more importantly duke and duchess, would follow before the end of the year.

  That very afternoon, Aunt Rose informed Eugenia they were invited to a house party in a week’s time at Brookhaven, residence of Lady Penelope, Lord and Lady Coddington. Eugenia was also certain that Aunt Rose had already set her mind to attend and, most probably, had already given their acceptance.