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Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) Page 5


  “For the last time, Bridget, there is nothing inappropriate about my gown or my appearance.” Practicing her smile on her maid, she added, “And there’s nothing you can say to make me feel less than perfect tonight.”

  Michael stood amidst a group of friends gathering at the base of the wide, curving staircase. Discussion centered around the latest doings of the parliamentary session. He occasionally inserted the appropriate comment here and there to pretend interest, but there was no use denying the fact that he really didn’t know what the devil they were actually talking about. His thoughts were elsewhere at the moment.

  When the Duke and Duchess had taken their places in the receiving line, which was noticeably absent one particular debutant honoree, he’d taken his position here, at the base of the steps and waited. The little minx was supposed to be in the line with her grandmother, brother and sister-in-law. Her Grace was giving the excuse to those coming through the line that Elise was feeling nervous. Which wasn’t an untruth as he could attest to from this morning.

  But, Elise was up to something. He sensed it. And that was the reason he stood in just this spot. It had nothing to do with the company that gathered around him, but everything to do with the fact that the proverbial female thorn in his side had to come down these particular steps and make her way to the reception line behind him.

  He noticed his friend’s forced smile as Lady Charnwood held him captive, likely filling his ear with her opinions on reform. As the older woman spoke, Michael caught his friend’s eye intermittently glancing to the top of the steps. Finally, Lady Charnwood moved on and His Grace leaned over and whispered to his wife, and the Duchess excused herself from the line. Michael made way for her as she walked past him and the other gentleman with a smile and a nod, to make her way up the steps. It was obvious to Michael that Ren had sent his wife upstairs to check on what was keeping Elise.

  When she returned mere minutes later, he saw her whisper into her husband’s ear. Though His Grace nodded at his wife’s words, Michael knew his friend well. The strained smile on his face hid Ren’s ire. She had best not pull a prank and embarrass her brother and sister-in-law on this night for they had gone above and beyond the norm for her come-out. To disrespect them by making them receive her guests was beginning to irritate him.

  A collective intake of breath sounded from several guests waiting in the line that extended out the front door of Caversham House. When Michael saw their gazes raised to the top of the steps, he turned. All conversation in the hall below halted, and every well-coiffed head turned to the landing as Lady Elise Halden appeared. Drawing his gaze upward, he felt an invisible blow to his gut.

  Standing at the top of the steps she paused and met his gaze, a radiant smile breaking across her face. A woodland nymph come to life, she was as ethereal and enchanting as all the stories of maidens of the forests he’d ever heard. Atop her head was no debutant’s tiara, but a delicate wreath of tiny gold and white flowers which accentuated the effect. A gold ribbon curled forward to caress her collarbone. Her filmy gold silk shawl slid casually down her arms, baring an expanse of creamy skin. The man who took her to wife would a fortunate man indeed.

  His mouth watered.

  He had to shake the erotic image from his mind. Reminding himself that this was his best friend’s little sister. The same sister he swore he’d never think of in this manner. The same minx who climbed a trellis to reach his balcony and watch him dress, only to fall into the flower beds below when she’d lost her hold. Michael was here as Ren’s friend, to wish the young lady well in her husband-hunting endeavors. Not that he was interested in her as anything other than his best friend’s sister. Perhaps if he reminded himself of that often enough, the salacious thoughts running through his head would do the honorable thing and disappear.

  She smiled the knowing smile of a young woman who was certain of her beauty and worth. He watched as she met the crowd’s censorious stares, with her own smiling countenance, her gaze daring any one of them to even hint that she’d done anything inappropriate.

  Michael was certain some of the ladies in attendance had waited with bated breath to see what Elise would wear, or do, so as to gossip about her behavior over morning calls the next day. And gossip they would, for this gown highlighted Elise’s uniqueness in a most fitting way.

  But the men also had waited to see the duke’s notoriously unconventional sister. While waiting, Michael overheard several of the unattached young bucks say they were excited she was finally available for them to court.

  Thinking back just ten hours, in the dining room at breakfast, Michael had prophesied that Elise would be betrothed before the end of the season. Knowing the chit in question—and her brother—watching this should prove to be most entertaining.

  Michael almost felt sorry for all the other debs coming out this year because Elise never did anything with mediocrity, but with a brilliance and enthusiasm that far out-shone the rest of her fair sex. In all his days, he’d never known any woman so brave as to buck convention and be true to herself as he knew Elise to be. The hem on the simple ivory dress was cut well above the ankles on both sides, while the front and back ended in a point that touched the ground between the lady’s feet. The design revealed more ankle than was the norm for a ball gown.

  Glimpsed from the side when she walked were transparent stockings, a sheer match to her dress, again hinting at more flesh than was appropriate for a young, unmarried lady. Still, the outright simplicity and lack of adornment on her gown, and the fact she wore no jewels but tiny, delicate pearl drop earrings, completed the nymph-like image. Whether her intent was to cause a sensation, attract the attention of every single male from twenty to eighty in attendance, or to sow seeds of jealousy amongst her competition, she succeeded.

  Michael could not envision any other woman wearing such a gown and looking as exquisite as Elise. Her graceful, willowy form carried the fitted dress like a glove. It hugged her tight as a corset down to her waist, and from there fell smoothly down to the unconventional hemline. For a moment he wondered how such a sleeveless, strapless creation remained on her body without slipping down—especially as Elise hadn’t the ample bosom most men desired.

  What the hell did they know anyway.

  When she reached the bottom of the steps, Michael barely managed a smile and a greeting. He wanted to shout out to the entire room, Look! See what a lovely young lady this termagant has blossomed into! Taking her gloved hand into his, he managed to say, “You are radiant, my lady.” He placed a kiss atop her knuckles. “More beautiful than if you’d chosen to adorn yourself with frills and diamonds.”

  “Thank you, my lord, but that doesn’t negate the fact that I feel much like a head of cattle at auction,” she said, that devilish twinkle unmistakable in her gold-flecked amber eyes. “Available to the highest bidder, or in this case the oldest, most noble title.”

  Michael threw his head back and laughed, breaking the tension between them. Her brother stared at her, his expression resolute, lips thinned, trying to mask his rising ire. Michael said, “Or one led to slaughter unless you comport yourself appropriately from this second forward.” He held out his arm and Elise put her hand on his, and Michael led her to the reception line a few feet away. Behind her, Elise’s friend Beverly followed.

  Leaning in close enough for Michael to catch a whiff of her faint lavender scent, she whispered, “And, as I’ve recently been reminded, any candidate for husband must also be in possession of wealth comparable to my own, or His Grace refuses to entertain the man’s offer.”

  He swallowed hard and collected himself. “Ah, so pirates and highwaymen need not apply?”

  She turned a dazzling smile up to him, unsettling him like a green boy. “Unfortunate for them, but no. They wouldn’t make it in the door.”

  She greeted her brother and sister-in-law and took her place between the Duke and Duchess of Caversham and immediately began greeting the guests as the line began to move again.

>   After the last of the guests passed through the line, they were finally able to enter the festivities. Alone with Lia and Ren, Elise took the opportunity to apologize to her brother and sister-in-law for her tardiness to the reception line, and the change of wardrobe. “Thank you for not getting upset.” Elise whispered as she took Ren’s left arm, unable to look into his eyes for fear she would find disappointment in them over her choice to change gowns.

  Her brother looked down with hardened steel-colored eyes. “As my insightful wife has advised me, I am picking my battles.” Lia peeked her head from her brother’s right side and smiled, letting Elise know all would be well.

  Only then did she sigh, relieved to have that behind her.

  Her brother led their party toward the open ballroom doors, Michael, Beverly and her grandmother having gone in some time ago. They made their way through the rose-and-ivory-decorated room, the crowd parted for them until they’d made their way to the dais flanked by white flowers of different varieties on a rose colored linen. A footman arrived with a tray and she lifted a champagne flute and sipped.

  “Excellent strategic move, child. Dressing down rather than wearing all those gaudy stones,” her grandmother whispered. “And a second dress for a debut will be all the rage now. Mark my word.” The gold-turbaned Lady Sewell tilted her head and raised her monocle so as to better examine the bodice of her dress, then raised her gaze back to Elise’s. “You’ve no cleavage exposed. How do you ever hope to make the sale, if you don’t let them have a peek at the goods?”

  Elise and Beverly choked on their drinks, and Lia smiled serenely as her brother turned away murmuring something to no one in particular. Elise leaned over and kissed her grandmother’s cheek, thanking her for the compliments, and her grandmother added, “Sit deep in the saddle young lady, for you’re in for the ride of your life starting this very night!”

  No sooner had the words been said, several young men appeared and began chatting with her and Beverly. Talk was mostly over mundane things, like the new play opening and Lord Colson’s new phaeton. But while the men spoke of races and the amusements they were all familiar with, Elise’s mind began to drift.

  How she wished she could dance with Michael on this night. Earlier in the day he’d said he would waltz with her when his mourning was over. She couldn’t wait for the day they could dance it together. For now though, she had to get through this first dance, the one with her brother. She was sure he intended to give her yet another a stern warning about her behavior.

  When the orchestra struck the chords of the piece she’d chosen, Ren offered his arm, leading her onto the floor. Taking her right hand in his left, and placing the other lightly on her back, he whirled Elise around the floor in the dance she waited over a year to perform.

  “Was there something lacking in your upbringing,” her brother said so casually as to belie his true feeling, “that has caused this complete lack of respect for convention?”

  Elise turned her gaze to his, and smiled. “No, Your Grace. I simply felt that in order to present myself in a manner more true to my real self, I needed to dispense of the trappings and frivolities that other girls hide behind. Society says that as of tonight I’m no longer a girl, but a young lady ready for marriage. I intend to make that point very clear this evening.” And hopefully bring a certain someone up to scratch, she wanted to tell him, but thought better of it. If her brother knew her thoughts, he’d never believed she’d changed at all.

  “I hope that for once in your life you can find it in you to hold such comments to yourself,” he said. “It would do no good to have every rake desperate for your fortune knocking on my door. Their suit would be refused before they had the opportunity to warm a chair across from mine.”

  “Which is as I wish,” she said with all sincerity, “since I plan to marry for love alone. So do not worry that I will encourage the attention of anyone unworthy of me.”

  When their dance came to an end, they walked back to their seats as the rest of the guests crowded onto the floor. Her sister-in-law was deep in discussion with two matrons, both of whom had several marriageable-aged daughters of their own. As she approached their group the other women turned their backs to her, shutting her out from their discussion. This reinforced her determination to remain composed and unperturbed in the face of the derisive comments she was sure to hear from the women of le bon ton. She went past her sister-in-law, to stand next to her grandmother. Elise smiled as the two women left the dais, their conversation with the duchess over.

  Curiosity filled her as she leaned over and asked why the two so suddenly decided to leave their company.

  “I find I am having to defend your choice in gowns,” her sister-in-law said, her voice tinged with anger.

  Regret filled Elise and she was about to apologize to her sister-in-law, when Her Grace added, “I merely stated that, as I observe the others of your set here in this very room, your gown is more modest in decolletage than most. The fact that yours is absent a three inch strip of material at the shoulders is inconsequential, the fitted bodice accentuates your slender shape, and if the curve of an ankle is going to incite a man to lustful thought and deed, then he isn’t a man we would have aligned with our family. I also reminded them that you are an extremely beautiful young lady with the good fortune as not to require trinkets, frills and such to impress and attract any suitor your heart desires.”

  Her sister-in-law had defended her! Elise felt a tight knot rise in her throat, and she fought the urge to cry. She hugged Lia fiercely and thanked her. “I wanted to appear separate from the crowd, because I’m not like the others. I’m me and wanted to present and reiterate that fact to all.”

  Her sister-in-law hugged her back with equal enthusiasm. “If anyone so much as dares to taint you with gossip pertaining to your gown or decision to not to wear gaudy jewels to weigh your slender beauty down, they will have to answer to me, I promise.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better myself,” her grandmother said, raising her champagne flute to her rouged lips. She winked at Elise. “Notice the old heifers didn’t dare say a word to me about your marvelous dress. I would have said the same as Her Grace, except perhaps not quite so politely.”

  “Grandmother,” Elise said softly, her veneer of false composure close to cracking, “Mrs. Pritchard once said that I should endeavor to say nothing if I had nothing nice to say.”

  “Balderdash. Go around criticizing the debutant honoree, and you might find yourself uninvited from other events of the season,” her grandmother said with just enough force in her voice to be heard by the two matrons who stood nearby.

  Lia saved the moment when she said, “It seems the young bucks want a turn about the floor with you. Go, have your fun, and don’t worry about gossip. Your grandmother and I shall protect your reputation. Besides, no one would go against me or risk my wrath. For some reason I have garnered a reputation as having a terrible temper, when really they should be more concerned with Grandmother’s tongue and not my temper!”

  Elise turned and as she did so, bumped into the first of her dance partners for the night. The Honorable David Sinclair caught her by the waist to keep her from falling, his hand lingered slightly longer than was appropriate.

  “Lady Elise,” he said, then bowed low. “I came to ask if I may have this dance.”

  “I had promised it to someone, sir. I am very sorry,” she said.

  “Since the unfortunate gentleman is not on hand to have the pleasure of dancing with you, I offer myself up.” Mr. Sinclair smiled, but the effort never made it to his eyes.

  Elise looked around for the dark-haired gentleman with the eggplant colored coat she’d originally promised the dance to, and when he failed to appear, she acknowledged he likely was in the card room and had forgot his promise to her. It happened to her all the time. She looked up into Mr. Sinclair’s Nordic good looks, and nodded her head and smiled.

  For the duration of the dance, she forced herself to pret
end she didn’t notice the way his blue eyes roved over her body in a covetous way. She got an uneasy chill when his hand lifted hers as they paraded through the parallel lines of other dancers. When the reel was over, she thanked him and turned to go back to where Beverly waited. But his hand reached for hers, and he attempted to keep her on the floor as the musicians began a new piece.

  The brashness of his move wasn’t lost on her, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. Elise really did want to make her brother proud of her. Also, her deepest wish was for Michael to see her now as a desirable woman—not the hellion who would walk away from the floor leaving her partner staring at her back for his impertinent assumption she would favor him with a second dance.

  Sinclair’s hand lighted on the small of her back. With the slightest pressure, he urged her to take her place in leading the procession forming behind them in the first steps of a polonaise. Just as she was about to go with him, she heard a familiar voice from behind her unwanted partner.

  “Sir, I believe this dance was mine.”

  His voice, deep and sure, sent a thrill up her spine. Michael had come to rescue her. He risked gossip doing this. Elise felt her heart beat a little quicker and her entire body grow warm. She turned to face Michael and he bowed to her. Sinclair did the same and stepped back.

  It wasn’t a waltz, but Elise was thankful Michael had come. Mr. Sinclair’s intent on keeping her out for a second dance was unwanted on her part, and she didn’t know how to refuse him without causing a scene.

  “My pardon, Lady Elise,” Sinclair said, through a forced smile. “I had hoped to be in your company a moment longer.” He turned to Michael. “My lord, I entrust her to your care.” He bowed once again before departing.

  Elise stepped into Michael’s arms, the only place she wanted to be since coming down the stairs. “Thank you.”