Lady Eugenia's Holiday Page 6

  In speaking to Penelope, Eugenia understood that Cynthia, her mother Mrs. Penshurst, and Herr Mueller were also invited. Penelope told them that although her elder brother, Sir Terrence, would not be present, the guests would become acquainted with her younger brother, Randolph.

  They would all leave the fair seaside city soon for Surrey. From there, they would remain at Brookhaven until it was time to depart for London.

  Eugenia found her life so dull in Brighton without Rothford’s company that she was half tempted to begin packing right then.

  The following afternoon, while out with Cynthia, Eugenia had a chance encounter the Duke of Rothford. She had no idea he had returned to Brighton.

  Her knees wobbled and her heart beat so hard from the shock of seeing him, it felt as if her heart were going to leap from her chest. As she and Cynthia approached, he touched the brim of his beaver and nodded to them as if they were nearly perfect strangers.

  Eugenia felt quite dreadful, deeply sorrowed at her lost love affair. How could he have done such a thing?

  She expected him to at least slow and greet her. Or perhaps to let a smile grace the cold, chiseled features on what he would, no doubt, refer to as a face.

  Especially after his memorable farewell. Eugenia would have thought he’d call, or at least send ‘round a note, as soon as he returned from his trip. Obviously she had been wrong about his regard for her.

  Before this afternoon’s unfortunate incident on the street, she had not seen the Duke for nearly a week. It seemed that not only had her absence not affected him, he did not care that he had seen her by chance.

  Perhaps she would ignore him at The Castle assembly, if he should attend. It seemed he felt compelled to attend every social occasion possible. Eugenia was becoming quite cross with him. Rothford treated her in such a horrid manner. He should mind himself or she would hand him the mitten. That is, had they been engaged, which they weren’t quite yet. Perhaps she would not accept him when he offered for her. No matter how much he pleaded and begged, she might not accept his marriage proposal. It would certainly serve him right!

  Eugenia had no intention of allowing Rothford to ruin her evening. She dressed in her yellow sarcenet gown with a simple string of pearls and met Cynthia at the Old Ship for the monthly full-moon masquerade, the last one before they departed for Brookhaven.

  She and Cynthia set their dominos in place. Even masked, it was not hard to tell who was whom after spending the last month among the inhabitants of this fair city.

  To her ultimate horror, Eugenia quickly identified the swagger of the man heading in her direction. His eyes glared with their familiar dark intensity. She did not turn away from his accusing stare, but faced it.

  Rothford came to a halt in front of her and performed a deep, sweeping bow. She should have had the good sense to kick his leg from beneath him.

  “My lady, would you be so kind as to grace a stranger with a dance?”

  Strangers are we now? Strangers with a tumultuous past, strangers with an uncertain future.

  It would be a very strange occurrence indeed if he thought she cared to associate with him after the way he had ignored her.

  Eugenia decided it was not a matter of what she wanted. She had the distinct impression he would certainly do as he pleased and would not take no for an answer.

  She and Rothford had been the topic of numerous on-dit these past few weeks. The duke, on the other hand, did not seem to mind the gossip, or he simply did not know.

  She, at least, had the sense to avoid spurring another wave of speculations. So, not wanting to cause a scene, she took his arm.

  Her hand tingled at his touch. It spread from her hand to her shoulder and dissipated. How could someone she felt so much loathing for make her feel like this?

  Then she realized it wasn’t only her. He had felt it too. Even though he was masked, Eugenia could see the effect of their casual contact in his eyes.

  He did care for her.

  Perhaps there had been a valid reason why he had not spoken to her on the street that day. Maybe there was another chance for them.

  Here, where it had started a month ago. Here, they might rekindle what they had so sadly lost during his absence and the lonely days that followed. Here, they might rediscover each other.

  Rothford took her into his arms as a warm, comforting smile spread across his face. He wanted this reunion as much as she. Perhaps more. Eugenia detected a longing, a loneliness in him that needed healing.

  Although she remembered seeing the other guests in a blur of color swirling about her. She could not recall hearing the music as they danced. He pulled her closer, they spun faster and faster.

  When they stopped, he politely stepped back and placed a kiss upon her gloved hand. Before he left, he said, “I pray, dear lady, that we meet again.”

  “So do I,” Eugenia replied, playing along. His performance left her in awe that he could so completely remove any doubts she had regarding his affection.

  Eugenia stood with Cynthia after they had removed their disguises. “It looks as if you two have settled your differences,” her friend commented.

  “When it comes to Rothford, I’m afraid I hardly have the willpower to refuse him anything.” Eugenia looked back at the double doors where he exited. Barely two minutes later, he returned through the very same as if he’d been away conquering the world.

  Immediately Eugenia felt warm, her reaction to that vivid picture in her mind conjured by his presence. She found her escape on the terrace. Part of her needed the fresh air, the remainder secretly wanted him to follow. She wanted to be alone with him.

  Rothford did not disappoint. He followed her.

  This night rehearsed for the cold winter days to come. Yet Eugenia felt none of the cooling breezes that delicately drifted past her.

  He stopped at a respectable distance and bowed his head, addressing her. “Do you think I have a chance of gaining a pardon?”

  “If I can forgive a stranger, I can most certainly forgive you, Your Grace.” Had she not already offered the masked man an apology on the dance floor? Now she needed to pardon the duke as well?

  Gradually, he took two steps and closed the distance between them. He ever so slightly tilted her chin with his fingertips. “I do wish you would dispense with the ‘Your Grace.’ I much prefer that you call me Rothford.”

  Arm in arm they entered the grand ballroom. For the remainder of the evening, she and Rothford rubbed along together famously. Nevertheless, with their history, Eugenia could not help wondering how long it would last.

  She inquired about his plans for the weeks preceding the Little Season. Eugenia wondered if he cared to join her party. She was sure an invitation to the country gathering at Brookhaven could be extended.

  However, during the interval Rothford was expected at Claremont Castle, home of the Earl of Claremont, elder brother of his friend, the Honorable Donald Hamby.

  Eugenia understood that the duke had certain commitments and she would never dream of interfering. Rothford made her promise him her first dance at Almacks. He also wanted to partner her for the first waltz, when she was granted permission to perform it, in London.

  So very much could happen between now and then. At the moment London seemed so very far away, not in distance but in time.

  Eugenia could see how Rothford wished her to enjoy her first, and most certainly her last, London Season as the incomparable. No doubt he believed she should be free to visit the sights and enjoy the attentions and favors of all the desirable young men. The duke must have known all too well that her heart belonged to him.

  Tomorrow, Eugenia told him, she and Aunt Rose would leave for Brookhaven. He wished that she should enjoy herself in the country and looked forward to their next meeting in Town.

  Rothford led her onto the ballroom for the quadrille. They took their starting position on the floor. The music began. The dancers started.

  At the present, Eugenia was in heaven.
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br />   Chapter 6

  Cynthia and her mother, Mrs. Penshurst, led the caravan from Brighton to Brookhaven the afternoon after the masquerade ball. It had begun to rain by the time Eugenia and her aunt boarded their coach and took their place in line behind the Penshurst transport.

  Before departing, there had been some discussion of Franz traveling with Eugenia and Aunt Rose. Eugenia had been spared keeping company with the musician, whom she adored, but would have dreaded occupying the same vehicle for an extended period of time.

  He was such a delicate man, probably subject to the damp, and to watch him suffer when there was nothing she could do would have been dreadful. Thank goodness Mrs. Penshurst insisted he ride with them. Eugenia could only sympathize with poor Cynthia, trapped in a coach with Franz for hours on end.

  “Tell me, Genie dear, did you enjoy your time in Brighton?” Aunt Rose continued, preventing Eugenia from answering. “I for one believe your stay was more than successful.”

  Eugenia remembered during her journey to Brighton she had dreamed of a highwayman. Now, a month later, she had no need for fantasies of imaginary rogues, she could focus on her handsome duke. How much she had changed, how she had grown.

  “You attended your fair share of balls, made more than a handful of friends.” Aunt Rose pointed out what was obvious to Eugenia. “And if I am not mistaken, you have formed a desirable attachment.”

  “It has yet to be determined if the Duke and I have formed an attachment.”

  “Really? That is not what I have heard.” Aunt Rose busied herself by rummaging thought her bag. “Although he may seem upstanding, my dear, there is something I find disturbing about him,” Aunt Rose began. “That duke is not without a blemished past.”

  “What exactly do you mean?” Eugenia inquired with piqued interest. She had never heard a contrary word about him from anyone. Rather, it seemed he was in great demand among the ladies. Elusive they had called him, for none of them could catch his fancy.

  “It seems the Duke was not always a duke.” Aunt Rose eyed Eugenia skeptically. “At one time, Thomas Mallick was only Lord Thomas, a duke’s younger son. His elder brother, Edmund, inherited the title when their father passed away some seven years ago.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” The tormented tone of Aunt Rose’s voice set Eugenia on edge more than the quaint tale. “It is not so unusual that a younger brother should inherit an elder brother’s title.”

  “You are quite right, my dear. I simply thought the story was worth mentioning since you seem to want to know all there is about him.” Aunt Rose removed her handkerchief from her reticule. “It seems the circumstance of his succession was … It appears to me very questionable.”

  The manner in which Aunt Rose brought up the entire subject did not seem to sit right with Eugenia and it sent a chill down her spine. Eugenia could think of nothing else after her aunt dozed off minutes later.

  Arriving at their destination, Eugenia found the estate of Brookhaven to be large, lavish, and beautiful, ample size to accommodate the guests in complete luxury.

  Eugenia settled in a brightly colored, cheerful room next to her aunt’s. But no amount of pampering or comfort could distract her from what took place in her heart and in her head.

  Her thoughts strayed. She missed Rothford terribly, and it would be more than several weeks before she would see him again. How would she bear it?

  And that had to be why Eugenia felt so very unsettled.

  The next morning, the house guests met Lady Penelope’s brother Randolph. Young Mr. Coddington had been in London this past Season. Eugenia thought him handsome but somewhat nervous, tugging on his vest and the sleeves of his blue superfine coat.

  He must have been morbidly shy and somewhat panicked when his sister introduced him to the sizable number of guests who had invaded their home.

  The presence of so many people caused him to retreat to one of the small parlors where Eugenia observed he must have succumbed to a fit of the vapors. Or did one call it something else when it occurred to a man?

  Mr. Coddington explained to his sister, when none of the guests recalled seeing him in Town, that he was far too withdrawn to ever approach anyone even after being introduced. Thus he remained a stranger to all who crossed his path.

  Penelope told them later, after Randolph had excused himself, that he found the whole London social scene to be “horrific.” and “frightful.” He never wanted to return to Town again.

  After the journey to Surrey, the inhabitants of Brookhaven spent more than a week of evenings playing cards, making silhouettes, reading poetry, taking turns playing the pianoforte, and singing.

  Eugenia’s dear friends Penelope and Cynthia were the worst offenders, encouraging one another to sing cheerful, syrupy sweet love songs. Even with Herr Mueller’s magnificent accompaniment, Cynthia’s solo sounded only tolerable. It was enough to cause one to go mad.

  Finally, Lady Coddington arranged an afternoon trip. Three coaches conveyed the guests into Haslemere, the local town. After some shopping, they stopped for lunch at The Goat and Goblet. When their small group exited the establishment, Eugenia, the first to step out onto the walkway, was almost run down.

  The man who nearly crashed into her should have been watching where he was going. She might have given him a proper set down if it had not been for his odd reaction to her.

  He stared into her face with complete recognition and exclaimed, “I beg your pardon, Lady Eugenia.”

  Eugenia, of course, was upset at the mishap but this fellow was not known to her and his apology—using her name—had left her quite speechless.

  Then, out of nowhere, the Duke of Rothford appeared and took the distraught fellow by the arm and off they went.

  That was not well-done of either of them at all.

  “Was that not the Duke of Rothford?” Cynthia stepped out from behind Eugenia. She was the only other person who was able to catch a glimpse of the duke.

  “I believe it was,” Eugenia said, still recovering. How strange they should run into each other and how ungracious Rothford had been not to have paid his respects.

  It was beyond all things peculiar.

  Returning to Brookhaven, Eugenia left the company of the other guests to take a turn about the garden for some air to clear her head. Given the time to mull about what the Duke had said to her before they parted Brighton, she wondered how it came about that he was here?

  Then she realized how Rothford’s quick reaction removed the young man before he could say anything further to her. The Duke had not remained long enough to see her for himself and could, quite possibly, regret his action.

  Then, finally, it occurred to Eugenia that the young man who nearly ran into her was the one she had seen before and heard referred to as Foster.

  Ten or so minutes had passed before Mr. Coddington joined her on the garden path. They settled into a comfortable conversation. Apparently he found Eugenia an amiable companion and felt at ease, which led her to ask him if he had heard of Claremont Castle. He told her it neighbored Brookhaven and went so far as to point out exactly the direction.

  Rothford probably had no notion the two estates were in such close proximity. Eugenia felt certain if he had known of her presence, the accidental meeting would have had an altogether different outcome. He would have made himself known to Eugenia and lingered in the village for hours, perhaps even joining their party’s outing.

  No doubt he would learn of her presence from Foster, for she was certain the young man would relay the news of their abrupt meeting. Nonetheless, returning to the house, Eugenia dispatched a note to Claremont Castle and waited anxiously for the remainder of the day, fully expecting to hear from Rothford at any moment.

  Eugenia could not remain calm during dinner. She must have been horrid company for the others, taking no more than a bite from her plate. After dining, Mrs. Penshurst asked Franz to treat her guests to several pieces on the pianoforte.

  Unfortunately Eu
genia was not in the mood to enjoy his performance. Dear Franz’s last effort to uplift her spirits was an evening stroll to which she had agreed but cut short, claiming a headache.

  That night, Eugenia tossed and turned unendingly, completely unable to sleep. Perhaps if she read something it might help her fall asleep. At least it would allow her to pass the remaining hours until dawn.

  She rose from her bed, the chill moved through her thin cotton set and she pulled her wrapper around her neck to keep out the night’s air. After lighting a taper and heading down the hall, Eugenia descended the staircase and strolled into the study.

  Holding the candle before her, Eugenia saw there, pressed close against the end of the bookcase and casement window, among the drapes, stood a man. A man who was trying very hard to remain invisible.

  Eugenia could not believe her eyes when she realized it was Rothford!

  She could see the very same surprise and delight in his face when they looked upon each other. Truth be told, he was probably more thankful that it had not been Earl Coddington who had discovered the unexpected presence in his country home.

  She set her candle on the table and ran to the Duke with open arms. “You got my message!” They embraced. Eugenia had never been happier to see anyone in her entire life. She was even more elated that he shared her enthusiasm.

  “Why do you think I’m here?” His informal attire boasted a further reason why he did not wish to be seen by any other, for he only wore a shirt and breeches.

  He must have pretended to retire for the night. Then he leaped out his bedchamber window and dashed headlong through the meadow and into the night to Brookhaven to meet her!

  “I am so happy you have come.” Eugenia held him tight, overjoyed to see him. How could she have ever doubted his affection?

  “How could I not?” he whispered. A nervous smile crept onto his face. “Although, I admit, I am taking quite a risk seeing you like this.”