Seeking Philbert Woodbead ( A Madcap Regency Romance ) (The Fairweather Sisters) (24 page)

“Love is a
risk for a woman in this world, Lord Elmer. I took that risk and now it is time
to be rational. You on the other hand have the luxury of experimentation and
adventure. You can never understand the world from my eyes.”

“I have a
mind, Amy, not a block of wood up there.”

“You are a
man and …” She bit her lip.

“And
therefore as sharp as a toothless lion, as able as a one winged bird or as
clever as a blunt bonnet pin,” he completed.

“How did
you—”

“I read
that book. You had left it in the library.”

“You read
Mrs
Beatle’s book for accomplished English ladies
?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because that
is what you base your life on and I wanted to understand. Listen to me, Mrs
Beatle is loony, barmy and mad. She should be locked up in Bedlam. Anyone who
asks you to collect broken buttons and make teeny tiny rabbits out of them is—”

“Lord
Elmer, that is enough. How can you expect me to take advice from someone who
refuses to be responsible in his own life? Who runs away from his father’s
house like a child seeking fun? Who lives the life of a court jester constantly
trying to amuse and be amused? In fact, you cannot step out on the streets of
London without a pirate shooting at you or an enraged husband trying to
strangle you—”

“I
understand you are hurt, but please remember it was that poet of yours that
broke your heart. I had nothing to do with it and therefore do not deserve
this—”

“You are
right,” Celine cut in, her voice rising. “You do not deserve to hear the truth.
The truth that you are an irresponsible creature with the intellect of a five
year old child. You are a thief and a scoundrel who has stolen poor Sordid
Sandy’s family recipe. How do you think she is feeling? Did you ever consider
things from that old woman’s point of view? You are so undependable that I
would rather walk through Hyde Park with Dorothy’s pet chimney sweep than with
you. You would get me killed, while the chimney sweep would only get me sooty.”

“Listen
now, that is unfair—”

“Unfair?
Since the day I met you things have gone wrong. My life has been in constant
danger, my hair does not stay in place, my heart beats so fast that at times I
think it is going to bound out of my chest and go running away ….”

“Your lips
seek mine,” he continued softly.

She snapped
open a parasol and kept it pointed towards him in defence. He had that look in
his eye—hooded lids, lips parted and flame tipped ears. He wanted to kiss her.
Again.

The
carriage came to a halt.

“Lord
Elmer, thank you for helping me find Philbert.”

“Is that
all you want to say to me?”

She licked
her dry lips, “I …”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,
and I hope we shall meet again sometime in the future.”

“Amy, stop
a moment longer. I need to speak to you about something. I wanted to ask you
if—”

“Lord
Elmer, I will be late for dinner.”

“Shall I
see you in your room tonight?”

“I don’t think
it would be proper.”

He made a
frustrated sound, “Do you have to be so bloody starched all the time?
Everything has to be proper with you. You live your life like an unhappy
colonel, following that idiotic Beatle’s advice on how to be a refined English
lady. You don’t know if you are Amy or Celine. Stop lying to me, stop
pretending to be someone you are not. You want to go off on an adventure just
as much as I do. I have seen your eyes glint in pleasure every time you took
down a pirate and no point in denying it. You need to learn how to live, to be
honest with yourself. Stop trying to make life comfortable for others. Make it
happy for yourself first.”

“I see,”
she said quietly. “This is goodbye then, Lord Elmer. I don’t want to burden you
with my starched self any longer.”

She leaped
out of the carriage and raced towards the mansion. She ignored his call and
only paused once she was safely in her own room. She locked the door and leaned
against it.

Was she
lying to herself, she wondered. Was she not a genteel young lady but a naughty,
wild, fickle young woman who fell in and out of love with the changing seasons,
who enjoyed flinging pirates out of carriages and kissing men, specifically a
handsome, mischievous man with a dimpled cheek called Lord Elmer?

Her eyes
fell on her reflection in the dressing table mirror. Who was she, she asked
herself again. A good sister, an obedient daughter, an accomplished lady, or a
simple girl who only wanted to love and be loved?

She
searched her reflection for answers. Her bun had uncoiled allowing her damp
tresses to escape and hang limply over her shoulders, while her skirts were
drenched and stained with mud … But it was her eyes that disturbed her the
most.

The dark
eyes looking back spoke of a love and friendship lost.

Celine was
amazed at how unhappy she was. In fact, she was so unhappy that her mind had
decided to soothe her soul by playing music in her head. It started with the
gentle sounds of a violin, which was soon accompanied by a flute and piano.
Within a few moments it was as if an entire orchestra was playing inside her
head. She sobbed and wondered at the injustice of it all. Her own brain was
mocking her, for the music was jaunty.

She wiped
her eyes and lifted her head off the pillow. The music was loud, she realised,
too loud to be simply playing in her head. The sounds of laughter filtered into
the room on the heels of the happy music.

Her misery
was momentarily forgotten. Her curiosity was peaked. She quickly shoved her
feet into slippers and raced out of her room. At the landing she paused and
stared down into the Great Hall.

The sight
made her gasp.

She could
see people in glittering gowns, giant hairdos and unfashionable wigs milling
about. A long table in the corner held dishes piled high with fruits, meats and
breads, while hundreds of candles and glass lamps made the Great Hall seem
enchanted.

Celine
could not believe her eyes. She rubbed them twice and the vision remained.

A fully
fledged ball was in progress downstairs.

“Hopkins,
wait,” she called out to the duke’s valet, who was strolling past her wearing a
coat and tails. In his hand he held what looked like a glass of champagne.

She blinked
at his attire.

He smiled
and took a sip from the glass.

“Hopkins,
what is going on? How did the duke allow all these people to enter the mansion?
I thought only family and close friends were allowed to visit us considering
Penny’s condi—I don’t understand … Hopkins, a ball is in progress. It is, isn’t
it?” A thought belatedly struck her. What if her misery had caused her to lose
her mind and that is why she was seeing Gwerful in a puce coloured dress with
prancing squirrels embroidered on the hem wearing a fruit bowl for a bonnet.

Hopkins
soothed her, “Your eyes are not deceiving you, Miss. A ball is truly in
progress. The ball is for the duchess and no one from outside has been invited.
The people below are the servants of the Blackthorne Estate. The duke said the
duchess wanted a party and dancing—”

“And he
gave her a ball with two hundred people and not a single person from outside.
He made her happy and adhered to propriety,” Celine finished. The duke hadn’t
told her because he knew she couldn’t lie. Penny would have guessed that she
was hiding something, and then the surprise would have been ruined.

“The
orchestra is playing in the other room,” Hopkins added. “The musicians are not
allowed to look upon the duchess. And in the morning room the duke has hidden
fourteen doctors and three midwives in case dancing disagrees with the
duchess.”

Celine
smiled, “This was a wonderful idea.”

Hopkins
took another sip of the champagne. His tongue nicely loosened, he said, “It was
Lord Elmer who gave him the idea. Lord Elmer had planned the outdoor meal
indoors and made the duchess laugh. The duke wanted to do something bigger and
grander than that, so he planned this ball.”

She opened
her mouth to ask yet another question when a sudden hush made her pause.

She turned
back towards the Great Hall, and from her excellent spot on the landing she
noticed Penelope enter the room.

It was
clear Penelope had just woken up from her nap. Her curly brown hair was trying
to escape from her head, her pale blue evening dress was crumpled, and the
corner of her eyes were crusted. She shuffled into the room holding her swollen
belly, her mouth parted in shock.

The duke
who had been sitting in the corner wearing his full evening attire stood up.

Penelope
noticed him and her eyes widened further.

He smiled
and walked towards her, and on cue the orchestra started playing a beautiful
waltz.

“May I have
this dance?” he asked bowing to her.

“Gack!”
Penelope managed to say.

The duke
took that as a yes and taking the duchess in his arms whirled around on the
dance floor.

The
servants parted to let the couple through. This was their dance and no one
dared to join in for the moment. A few maids sniffed into their handkerchiefs,
and Celine had to admit as she dabbed her own eyes, Penelope had never looked
more beautiful.

Celine and
Hopkins too danced for a bit on the landing before Hopkins departed with the
scullery maid who was wearing a chicken feather hat.

Celine
watched Penelope laugh at something the duke said. The duchess’ face was
flushed in happiness. She wiped away another tear. Penny was the luckiest
person in the world to have someone love her so passionately. And Lord Elmer
would have enjoyed this moment. It was the sort of thing he would think of ….

“Why are
you sitting here?” Dorothy asked coming up beside her.

“I can see
everything better from up here,” Celine replied.

Dorothy sat
down next to her and stuck her nose between the bannisters, “True.”

“Who
adopted your chimney sweep?” Celine asked, her voice still husky from crying.

“Gunhilda.
She thought that since she was the governess she was best suited for the job.
The duke agreed.”

Celine
nodded.

“Are you
very sad?” Dorothy asked, putting her head on Celine’s shoulder.

“No, why
would you say that?”

“I
overheard Penny telling the duke that—”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Here, keep
this coin. Now out with it.”

“Are you
trying to bribe me?”

“No.”

Dorothy
scowled, “Why not? I like being bribed.”

“Dorothy,”
Celine threatened.

“Wait, I am
telling you. Penny was telling the duke that you have been moping because Lord
Elmer has left. She said you are in love with him. Is that true? Do you love
Lord Elmer?” After a moment Dorothy asked again, “Celine, did you hear me? I
asked you if you love him or not?”

“Not.”

“Are you
sure? You don’t sound sure.”

“I am
sure,” Celine replied in an unsure voice.

“Why ever
not? I think he is loveable. If I was you, I would adore him. He is rich.”

“Wealth
does not equal love, Dorothy.”

“It should.
I have seen plenty of pretty girls marry old gnarly men for their wealth. Now
if wealth did equal love, then this world would be a happier place.”

“Your
philosophising is giving me a headache. Go to bed.”

Dorothy
caught Celine’s face in her small hands, “You love him, Celine. Admit it.”

Celine’s
heart almost stopped. Her sister’s eyes suddenly looked old and learned, “Since
when have you become so wise?” she asked softly.

“Since I
started practicing for a play that Rosy is writing. I simply changed Mary to
Celine and said the dialogue. What did you think of my delivery? Was it
convincing?”

“Your neighbour
Rosy? The ten year old Rosy? How does she come up with such lines?”

“She gets
inspiration from the novels hidden under the mattress in the—”

Celine put
her hand on her ears and shook her head, “Dorothy, go to bed now or …”

Dorothy
reluctantly left and thereafter she too decided to go to bed. She ignored the
laughing people, the music and the food, for her heart and mind were desperate
to mull over Dorothy’s words.

Had she
gone and fallen in love with the scoundrel, the blackguard … the adorable Lord
Elmer?

***

Back in her
room Celine firmly closed the door, and with only the faint sounds of the
orchestra filtering through, she got to work.

She took a
seat in front of the large mahogany writing table and pulled out a sheet of
paper. Next she sharpened the quill and unscrewed the ink pot. Finally she
pulled out
Mrs Beatle’s book for accomplished English ladies
.