A Bride for Lord Albany (Regency Novella Book 3) Page 2

  “The ceremony is to take place in a fortnight.” He put the invitation down on the silver tray it had arrived on. He would pen a response later. He studied his reflection in the mahogany Cheval mirror in one corner of his bedchamber. “Well done, Lincoln. You are a master with a neckcloth.”

  Behind his reflection he could see the valet smile briefly. “Thhhank you, my lord.”

  Lord Geoffrey was to be married. The upcoming wedding explained Emma’s arrival in London. His desire to see Emma again would not alter his plans for the day. Fridays were for fencing at Angelo’s accompanied by his friend Sloane. Parliament would not convene until late afternoon. He had time for a bout or two and a meal at Whites before sessions.

  He’d promised his sister he would see her again on Sunday. His small estate near the village of Chigwell in Essex was his refuge from the bustle of town. Lisbeth was his only family. The noise of London had only frightened her momentarily. She was happy in Essex. He would not bring her to town again.

  Lincoln excused himself and exited the bedchamber.

  He’d learned about Lisbeth on the last day of Louisa’s house-party. Finding out he had a sister he knew nothing about distracted him from his disappointment when he learned of Emma’s engagement to Upton.

  The marchioness was a widow, her youngest child soon to be married. He’d seen her only a handful of times over the years since the house party in Devon. Each time he’d been surprised by the affection he still felt for her. He wanted to believe her indifference to him was an act. The only way to be sure was to spend more time with her.

  * * * * *

  Emma frowned at Lily. “You invited Lord Albany for dinner?”

  “Lord Albany and his friend Mr. Sloane. I thought you were to accompany the duchess to the theater this evening.”

  “The play is tomorrow.”

  “Well, I can’t uninvite him.” Lily did not look up from her needlepoint. She was stitching initials on a handkerchief for her husband. “You have never shared why you dislike the viscount, mother. He has always been very pleasant to Charles and myself.”

  She looked down at her own project, a baby cap adorned with Hollie Point lace.

  Although Geoffrey’s wife Grace was still in awe of her mother-in-law, Lily had seen through Emma’s prickly exterior to the tender heart beneath. She had been touched when the girl asked to call her ‘mother’.

  “Lord Albany is a fortune-hunter.” She would not tell the girl of her brief infatuation with the man.

  Lily sniffed. “And yet he remains unmarried despite the ton being inundated with silly heiresses in search of a title.”

  There was near silence in the room, the only sound the ticking of a clock. The stillness was interrupted by the arrival of Charles.

  “Good afternoon, ladies.” The tall marquess leaned down to give his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. He moved to stand beside his wife and place a hand on her shoulder. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

  Lily smiled up at him as she placed a hand over her midsection. Although the young woman was nearly five months along it didn’t show. “Your son and I are very well, husband.”

  “You are so sure we will have a boy?”

  “He is sitting forward and is quite a kicker. Your mother insists we are having a boy.”

  “I carried two myself.” She was overjoyed at the thought of a baby in the house again. The happiest days of her life had been taking care of her children. She’d had someone who loved her. And she could love them in return. “I know the signs very well.”

  Charles didn’t argue the point with her. “As it is Wednesday, there are no sessions today. I’m going to meet with my solicitors.”

  “Make sure you are home for dinner.” Lily paused. “We have guests. Lord Albany and Mr. Sloane. The numbers are uneven, but you know I care little for that.”

  Although her attention was now on her own needlework, she felt her son’s glance as he replied, “It should be an interesting evening.”

  * * * * *

  Albany took a breath and let it out in a nervous chuckle. He’d taken great care in his appearance. Not normally a vain man, he was aware he did show a fine leg in his black stockings and knee pants.

  He and Sloane entered the Upton drawing room where they were greeted by Lily.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  “Good evening, Lady Upton.” He bowed.

  “How lovely to see you again, Lady Upton,” Sloane said with his own slightly ungainly bow. The man was shorter than Albany and as thin as a rail.

  Lily’s wide smile encompassed both men. “It is a pleasure to have you join us.”

  Lord Upton approached from his position by the fireplace. Sloane’s estate was near their host’s land and the two men conversed for a moment on the news of the county. He listened distractedly, his attention glued to the doorway of the room. In a moment, Emma appeared.

  She wore blue. The color was a lovely complement to her auburn hair.

  He now had an excuse to stare at Emma as she stood before him.

  “I am so pleased you both could come to our family dinner,” the dowager said with only the slightest inflection on the word family.

  “We are honored to be included,” Sloane replied.

  He blinked as he’d forgotten the other man’s presence.

  “I hear you collect pocket watches, Mr. Sloane. Charles recently acquired a spectacular specimen.” Lily skillfully detached his friend and her husband from their small group. “It is in a small case on the low table in that corner.”

  Emma’s gaze narrowed on Lily’s back. “That was abrupt.”

  He chuckled. “Even for your daughter-in-law.”

  Her attention returned to him.

  He said, “You look lovely this evening.”

  “Thank you, Lord Upton. And you look… very well.”

  Her cheeks became flushed as he’d expected. She never was very good with compliments.

  Emma cleared her throat. “I should have told you before now that I owe you my thanks for what you did to bring Grace and Geoffrey together.”

  The words were said haltingly. He guessed it cost her something to say them. He smiled softly. Her eyes widened. Although she might not like him, she was aware of him.

  “They belong together,” he replied, his words were low, intimate.

  He could see her pulse beat a rapid tattoo at the base of her throat. The young girl from the house party was now a woman. From all appearances she looked to still have little experience flirting with a man.

  “Lily tells me she believes you also helped Charles come to his senses.”

  “Your sons are good men. They deserve all the happiness in the world.” He meant it. She’d done a wonderful job raising two respectful young men.

  “Of course, a mother thinks her offspring are special.” She coughed. “I don’t understand why you think so highly of them.”

  He was saved from a reply by the announcement of dinner. He escorted the dowager marchioness into the dining room with the feeling that Lily had engineered such an occurrence.

  * * * * *

  Emma’s dress, formed of Cerulean blue satin, was part of the new wardrobe she’d had made during her month in London. She might not return to town for some time and her clothing needed updating. Her maid had styled her hair in the Sevigné style, her only jewelry pearl ear-drops.

  The way Albany looked at her made her feel seventeen again. She must remember he wasn’t interested in her then and he surely wasn’t interested in her now.

  “You’re mumbling to yourself.”

  Albany offered her the brussels sprouts from a dish in front of him.

  “Thank you.”

  “You are fond of sprouts if I remember correctly.”

  “We only knew each other a week. How could you remember something like that?” She took a bite of the vegetables. They were delicious.

  “I remember everything about that house party. How you looked, how horrible you we
re at lawn bowling.”

  She took another bite to delay her response. She didn’t know why Lord Albany had recently inserted himself into her children’s lives. She needed to put him at a distance. They had never spoken about that house party so long ago. He might soon wish he had never brought up the subject.

  “I remember one thing quite clearly. Do you recall a conversation you had with your friends in the gardens the day of the engagement ball?”

  “Not the specifics.” He paused. “You were there?”

  She nodded, her eyes on his face. “I overheard you. Someone mentioned you could do better than plain Miss Emma.”

  He frowned.

  “I see you do remember.”

  “Lord Plimpton was teasing me about my attentions toward you.”

  “You call that teasing.” She sighed heavily.

  “I defended you. You must have heard me defend you.”

  She shrugged. “No. I didn’t hear any such thing.”

  The conversation around them ebbed and flowed. The next course was served. She would not break the silence between them. The pain felt as fresh as it had so long ago.

  “You married Lord Upton because of a partial conversation you overheard?”

  “I married Lord Upton because he offered for me. Nobody else did.”

  It was his turn to sigh. “Such a terrible, terrible waste. You deserved so much more.”

  Charles was on her other side at table and she concentrated her attention on him. Albany’s words confused her. Mayhap they sprang from his dislike of her dead husband.

  When dinner was finished, the men stayed behind as the ladies removed to the drawing room. Lily was obvious in her attempts to find out what her conversation with Albany at dinner had been about. She replied that they had merely exchanged vague pleasantries.

  When the gentlemen rejoined them after brandy, Lily suggested a game of Loo as their party numbered five. Emma was careful not to be seated next to Lord Albany. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the game if he was near.

  They played for low stakes. Mr. Sloane was uncommonly lucky, and the time passed quickly. Some two hours later she was relieved when Albany and Sloane made their excuses.

  “We shan’t impose any longer,” the viscount said. “I have to be off on family business in the morning.”

  Lord Albany bowed to her. The warmth in his gaze was tinged with regret.

  When their guests had departed, she excused herself to go upstairs.

  As she left the drawing room she heard Charles say, “How very remarkable to hear Lord Albany discuss family. If you hadn’t told me he had a sister I would scarce believe it.”

  * * * * *

  Sloane sat across from him in the darkened carriage. “I’ve never asked what happened between you and the marchioness. It is clear there is some sort of history between you.”

  He told his friend about the house party in Devon and the conversation Emma had overheard in the rose garden.

  “Anyone who knows you wouldn’t believe you would be so unkind as to make fun of the woman.”

  “I wasn’t always the way I am now, my friend. I hadn’t begun to stand up for myself, form my own opinions. I received the letter about my sister and I left for London straightaway.”

  “I thought Lisbeth was the reason Miss Hayward broke off your engagement so long ago, why you let her tell everyone you were a fortune hunter. Is Lady Upton the reason you never married?”

  Although his friend couldn’t see the motion in the darkness, he shrugged. “I’m not sure. I may have used her as an excuse to avoid marriage. Or I may have used Lisbeth as an excuse.”

  His mother had died when he was only three years old. He’d thought he was an only child. His upbringing had been allotted to nurses, governesses and tutors. When the letter reached him at the estate in Devon he was eager to believe he had a sibling.

  Mr. Winge,

  Excuse my forwardness in writing to you. I believe the matter is urgent. I am your sister’s current nurse. Your father has mentioned finding a place for Lisbeth at Bethlem Royal Hospital. Please do not allow this to happen. Although you have never visited your sister, I may assure you she is merely a bit headstrong. She does not need to be confined for her own safety.

  Respectfully,

  Anna Simms

  He had no idea who Lisbeth was. He returned to London straight away upon reading the message, eager to confront his father about the contents of the letter.

  “Yes, you have a sister. She is nearly ten years your senior.” His father’s words were matter-of-fact. Expressionless.

  “Why have I never met her? The letter mentioned she is headstrong. She was locked away for such a thing?”

  “Lisbeth was a difficult birth for your mother. The babe stopped breathing. We thought she would die. Although she recovered she was never quite normal.” His father closed his eyes for a moment. “The girl is odd. Prone to outbursts and erratic behavior.”

  He remained silent. There must be more to the story.

  “When you were born Lisbeth was besotted with you. She wanted to hold you constantly. Her behavior began to alarm your mother and me. When your mother died I didn’t know how to care for you both in the same house and ensure your wellbeing.”

  The expressionless tone of his words was gone. Although his father had never been a very warm man, he’d been told by his childhood nurse that the viscount had loved his wife very much.

  “Lisbeth was content in the country. She was well looked after at a small estate I inherited. My life was in London as was yours.”

  “She’s my sister. Are you planning on moving her to an insane asylum?”

  “Her nurse will soon be too old to care for her. Lisbeth rarely leaves the house. She has changing moods. The servants fear her temper.”

  There was no question about what he should do. “Where is the estate?”

  “Near Chigwell.” His father frowned. “You don’t know anything about her, John.”

  “All I need to know is she is my sister.”

  Chapter Three

  The wedding at St George’s church in Hanover Square was attended by family and a few close friends. He remembered little of the ceremony. His attention had been on Emma in the pew in front of him. Their conversation at Lily’s dinner party played in his mind. If he were honest with himself he’d admit that although he was two years her senior, he’d been as immature as Emma. He’d been a selfish young man, copying the behavior of his selfish friends. Surely a marriage between he and Emma would have been a disaster.

  When she bowed her head in prayer he caught a brief glimpse of the soft skin of her nape. He imagined he could smell her perfume.

  The wedding breakfast at the Upton townhouse in London was underway by ten o’clock in the morning. Geoffrey and his new wife Grace would leave straightaway for a small estate in Yorkshire that very afternoon.

  He’d never been to the townhouse before. Located on the fringe of Mayfair, it didn’t bother him to visit the home of the upperclassman who had bullied him during his first few years at Harrow. There was a new Lord Upton. Charles was twice the man his father was.

  Albany found himself seated across from Emma. Lily sat to his right. Her husband to his left.

  He’d become acquainted with Lily and her husband Charles during the season four years ago.

  He frowned. “Goodness, tongue at breakfast.”

  “It is Geoffrey’s favorite,” Lily replied.

  “Marriage appears to agree with you.”

  “Perhaps you should try it, Lord Albany.”

  Lily’s self-satisfied grin was replaced with an open mouth when he replied, “Perhaps I will.”

  He took a bite of ham and chewed it.

  “May I ask how your sister is?”

  “She is very well, thank you,” he replied.

  “I didn’t know you had any family.”

  He swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “Only my sister.”

  Emma looked up and
caught his gaze. She quickly averted her eyes. Before Lily could ask more questions about Lisbeth he changed the subject. “You have been in good health?”

  “Yes, thank you. I will travel to Kilmeade Hall soon for my confinement. Charles wants me to go home and rest. He is worried about me and the baby.”

  “Just so.” He paused. “Will your mother-in-law accompany you?”

  She nodded before she glanced to the other end of the table where Emma’s sister Amelia was seated. “The duchess has asked her to stay in town until I am ready to leave for the estate.”

  Music could be heard from an adjoining room. A quartet of strings played as entertainment for the breakfast. Charles stood to make a toast. He said a few words to the happy couple and the breakfast was over. He had been to events that had lasted most of the day. Some had concluded with a ball.

  “I see Geoffrey is eager to leave for Yorkshire.”

  “The weather has been so bad of late he would like to set off early while the skies are clear.”

  It had been a dry morning. By the time the service was over the sun was well up and shining brightly.

  “Will you attend Lady Cair’s ball on Saturday?” Lily sighed. “If Charles doesn’t grumble about my dancing while enceinte, I will save a dance for you.”

  “It will be a pleasure,” he replied.

  He remembered he planned to see Lisbeth on Saturday. He would leave town after sessions on Friday and spend the evening and part of Saturday with her. He hadn’t known about Lady Cair’s ball. The event would be an excuse to see Emma again. After their conversation about the house party he’d decided Emma was still disappointed that he’d left Devon without speaking to her. Hardly the feeling a woman should have after all these years if she had no feelings for him.

  The couple made their goodbyes. Their carriage awaited, and everyone went outside to wave them off. He stood beside Emma. “I look forward to claiming a dance with you at Lady Cairs’ ball, Lady Upton.”

  “I am sure that would be most enjoyable,” the dowager replied before her son Charles claimed her attention on her other side.