The Earl, the Lady and the Song of Love by Fanny Finch

Chapter 2

“Lady Heather Holloway! Lady Leah Wentworth! Miss Janet Belshire!”

 

Imogen looked at Alicia as she felt a soft nudge in her side.

 

“What is it?” her eyes asked.

 

Alicia must have easily read the question for she whispered in response. “Any time now, we shall be called. I suppose I will go first.”

 

“Oh,” Imogen answered. They were now standing at the top of the stairs that descended into the ballroom.

 

Everyone who had come was gathered below, looking up at the debutantes, happy to clap politely as they climbed down upon hearing their names.

 

“You are nervous, aren’t you?” Alicia whispered again, grinning.

 

Imogen nodded. “And you are not.” It was not a question. She knew Alicia better than most people and her friend could not be more different from her.

 

Where she was shy and reserved, Alicia was outgoing and outspoken. She barely had a care in the world and acted freely, whatever tickled her fancy.

 

She was also very beautiful, which made it all the more easy for her to draw attention to herself.

 

For Imogen, it was attention that she would rather not have, exactly the kind Alicia craved and basked in.

 

Climbing down a stairway, dressed like an angel with hundreds of eyes staring at her was just the type of thing Alicia lived for.

 

Imogen did not need anyone to tell her Alicia’s debut would be flawless. She wished she could say the same for herself.

 

Alicia shook her head. “Why would I be? It is the moment I have been waiting for all my life. You have no inkling how sad I am that Father made me wait this long. If it were entirely in my power, I would have made my debut three years ago. Look at her, MaryAnne Heathridge, she is only sixteen and already entering society. It is difficult not to feel envious.”

 

“Miss Alicia Fitzwilliam!”

 

As soon as her name was called, Alicia’s eyes began to twinkle with excitement.

 

“Oh! That is me! Finally! I guess I will see you below!”

 

With those words, she walked to the edge of the stairs and dipped in a flawless curtsy. Imogen stared in awe, unable to help it. She had never seen one so gracefully executed.

 

That was one of the many reasons she loved Alicia. Her dearest friend never had to try too hard. These things came naturally to her.

 

As Alicia rose, she lifted her hand in a small, perfect wave. Then, she began to descend the stairs. She did not miss one step. Her head remained high, spine straight and shoulders squared until she reached the last and got off.

 

In her mind, Imogen broke into applause, filled with so much pride and happiness. Alicia had done absolutely splendid. She only wished to do half as well.

 

“Lady Fiona Whittaker!” the announcer called again.

 

A tall lady stepped forward then, and Imogen watched as she curtsied, waved and climbed down the stairway. As Fiona joined the crowd smiling, Imogen wondered who would be next.

 

That was when she heard her name.

 

“Miss Imogen Hartford!”

 

For a small moment, she was frozen.

 

As she thawed, she walked to the edge of the stairway as gracefully as she could, dipped in a curtsy and rose to wave, a dazzling smile on her face.

 

Afterwards, she picked her skirts in her hands and began to descend. All the while, her heart was lodged in her throat and she would not stop praying that she did not make a fool of herself even as they clapped and cheered her on.

 

She could feel them all looking at her and it made it even harder to concentrate.

 

Only two more, she thought to herself as she neared the last steps.

 

When she finally got off, she released a deep breath. Before she could fully recover, though, her father, brother, and Alicia were by her side.

 

Lewis was the first person to speak. “You did great, sweetheart. Really great.”

 

“Truly?” she asked.

 

Alicia nodded. “I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs that you were my friend. Thankfully, I managed to restrain myself. I knew you could do it, Imogen! Given, I believed you would struggle through it, but you were simply graceful! No one could have told you were nervous.”

 

Imogen’s heart warmed as it settled in its rightful place.

 

“You are just saying that to make me feel better,” she protested weakly.

 

Her father spoke then. “Hogwash! It is the truth that we are telling, and you best believe it. You were flawless, you are flawless. Watching you descend those steps was the proudest moment of my life.”

 

“Mine too,” Lewis added.

 

Imogen’s heart melted as she looked them all in the eye, one by one. They seemed so sincere. How could she not believe them? Especially when she wanted to so desperately?

 

“I am glad, so glad I did not disappoint you.”

 

“Pshaw, you could never. Come now, there are people you must meet. They are quite eager to meet you as well.”

 

Her father was already pulling her away. She turned to Alicia to see if it was okay to go and her friend nodded, waving her off.

 

“Father wants to take me around as well. I was only waiting for you. Meet me back here in half an hour, would you?”

 

“I will,” Imogen agreed. “See you then.”

 

With those words, they parted.

***

 

It was easier than she had imagined, meeting people.

 

Some were the familiar faces of her father’s friends and business partners. Others were strangers with whom she quickly made acquaintance.

 

By the time Imogen returned to the spot where she and Alicia had agreed to meet, she realized that she was starting to feel quite comfortable.

 

The crowd no longer scared her, and she had stopped being concerned by what little attention she was getting.

 

“There you are!” Alicia chimed as she arrived. “I hope I did not make you wait too long. I only just managed to get away.”

 

Imogen shook her head. “Not at all. I just got here myself.” She turned to her brother who had decided to stay by her side until she reunited with Alicia.

 

“You may go now, Lewis. I am certain you have friends of your own whom you want to be with.”

 

“They can do without me, but if you insist.” He turned to Alicia, smiling. “Take care of her, will you, Miss Fitzwilliam? Come find me if there is any trouble and do not stray anywhere alone.”

 

Imogen gave in to the urge to roll her eyes, as Alicia assured him she would take good care of Imogen. Her brother was ever protective of her as though if he looked away for too long, she would vanish into thin air.

 

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

 

His response was a kiss to her temple. “I do not doubt it, but I feel better knowing that you do not have to.”

 

With those words, he was gone, giving Imogen no chance to retort.

 

“Lewis is ever charming, do you not agree? If only I had a brother like him,” Alicia sighed as he walked away.

 

“You should confess your feelings one of these days or I shall just have to do so myself,” Imogen teased.

 

“Don’t you dare! We both know I stopped nursing them years ago. I only fancied him one summer . . . just one summer, but you will not let me hear the end of it.”

 

Imogen chuckled. Alicia was usually hard to fluster but mentioning Lewis always seemed to do the trick.

 

She knew Alicia believed she was over Lewis, but Imogen did not think that was the case. There was perhaps, some part of her best friend that still fancied her brother.

 

It mattered little, though. Lewis had eyes for no one and well, Alicia always had one gentleman or the other to fawn over every few months.

 

“You keep calling him charming and I might just have to keep disagreeing,” she replied.

 

Alicia gave her the stink eye, but Imogen’s smile never faltered. In fact, it widened into a grin.

 

“Speaking of charming gentlemen, have you noticed that there’s quite a number of handsome men here tonight? One particularly catches my fancy. The Earl of Wimbledon. Oh, my days, he is so easy on the eyes, that he is! Thankfully, he asked for my first dance.”

 

“Oh?” Imogen asked. She was not one bit surprised by how quickly they had moved on from the topic of her brother.

 

“Yes. And you? Have you promised the dance to anyone? My dance card is filled up as it is. Shall I see yours?”

 

Imogen showed her.

 

“Uh-oh. Only three names and the first dance is yet to be promised. Poor dear. Not many men asked, did they? I never imagined that would be the case.”

 

It was, in fact, not the case but Imogen saw no need to correct Alicia.

 

She had been asked more times than she could count. She had simply been careful whom she answered favorably. She did not want to spend time dancing with any gentlemen who made her feel uncomfortable, even if only a little bit.

 

Lifting her shoulder ever slightly, she shrugged as though it was nothing. “I wanted to give it to someone who—in your words—catches my fancy. I have yet to meet him.”

 

“Ah. I see. I hear the first dance shall begin any moment now. What shall you do if you do not find anyone before then?”

 

Imogen did not have to give it any thought. She answered easily,

 

“I shall ask Lewis to dance with me. He is my first love, after all.”

 

Alicia sighed as she shook her head. “You are not going to marry your brother, you know.”

 

“What can I say? I can at least hope to choose someone like him.”

 

Alicia would have replied, but someone appeared by their side just then. A young gentleman with eyes evidently only for Alicia.

 

“Miss Fitzwilliam, I looked all over for you.”

 

Alicia’s cheeks immediately flushed with crimson. “Lord Wimbledon, you must forgive me. I did not mean to cause you any trouble.”

 

“Oh no, please. It was no trouble. I would gladly search the whole of England if only to glimpse your beauty again.”

 

Alicia blushed harder, lowering her gaze.

 

Imogen could not help smiling. It must be the earl Alicia had told her about. He was easy on the eyes indeed, tall, dark-haired, and apparently charming.

 

It was also easy to see why Alicia fancied him.

 

“Well, it is a good thing you do not have to, is it not?” Alicia replied as she recovered. “You must meet my best friend, Miss Imogen Hartford. Imogen, this is Lord Isaac Brandon, the Earl of Wimbledon.”

 

Lord Wimbledon’s lips curved in a smile as he turned to Imogen.

 

Holding his hand out, he greeted her. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Hartford.

 

Imogen gave him hers. “Likewise, my Lord.”

 

He dipped in a bow, kissing the back of her hand as he did.

 

“I see this season came with the most beautiful debutantes,” he said as he rose, releasing her hand.

 

Imogen could not help smiling in return. She tried to think of a witty retort, but for some reason she could not form one word.

 

Thankfully, he continued. “I hope you would not mind if I stole Miss Fitzwilliam away for a bit? The first dance is about to begin, and I am lucky enough to be the one to have claimed it.”

 

She liked him, Imogen decided—this Lord Wimbledon. She liked the way he looked at Alicia as though she was the only person in the room.

 

He was evidently smitten and genuinely so.

 

“Please, do not let me stop you,” she replied, finally finding her voice.

 

“Beautiful and kind. I thank you, Miss Hartford.”

 

Again, she simply blushed, her tongue twisting.

 

He turned to Alicia then. “Shall we?”

 

Alicia looked at Imogen and Imogen nodded, letting her know it was alright to go.

 

It was all that was needed. The next moment, she was walking away, arm in arm with the earl.

 

Imogen sighed as she watched them go.

 

It must be nice, she supposed, finding someone who warmed your heart at your very first ball.

 

“They make a lovely sight, do they not?”

 

She almost jumped out of her skin as an unfamiliar voice sounded in her ears.

 

She turned swiftly to see who it was and as she did, her heart skipped a beat.

 

Why, he is the handsomest man I have ever met!

 

He was tall. Very tall, almost dwarfing her as she barely reached his broad shoulders.

 

He had striking blue eyes and dusty brown hair that matched the beautifully tied cravat around his neck. There were even more striking features—a sharp jaw with cheekbones that stood out and lips so red, she wondered if he had been sipping wine.

 

On top of it all, he was looking at her.

 

He was looking at her and smiling! Those blue eyes would not stop twinkling too. She felt a tremor in her heart and resisted the urge to lift her hand to it.

 

“Excuse me?” she asked, forgetting the reason she had turned in the first place.

 

“Your friend and Lord Wimbledon. They make a lovely sight.”

 

His voice washed over her. A sensuous baritone she could listen to all night.

 

“Oh?” she cleared her throat when it appeared to be clogged. “Yes, I suppose they do.”

 

He kept smiling at her, looking at her. “Do you reckon we would make a lovely sight as well?”

 

The caterpillars she had never thought existed in her belly morphed into butterflies and began to flutter.

 

She had heard right, had she not?

 

“Excuse me?” she asked again. She winced as the word left her lips. It was the second time she was using them in five minutes.

 

“You and I, I think we would make an even lovelier sight.”

 

“Oh, I see,” she breathed.

 

Again, she chided herself. Oh, I see? One would think she had never made conversation with a gentleman before. What was wrong with her?

 

He held out his hand then. “Pardon my manners. I am Lord Jerome Wilkins, Baron of Exeter.”

 

She gave him hers, trying to remember if she had heard the name or title before. Nothing came to mind.

 

“Imogen Hartford,” she replied.

 

He said nothing as he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a long, affectionate kiss against the back of her palm.

 

Then, letting her hand go, he said, “I know.”

 

Imogen hid her hand behind her back, not wanting him to see how much it trembled. The spot where he had kissed her still tingled.

 

What is wrong with me?

 

Was this what it felt like? Having one’s fancy tickled? It was quite strange and exhilarating at the same time.

 

“You do?” she asked again.

 

Why do I keep asking questions?

 

He nodded. “I saw as you were announced. I suppose it would not be too much to offer my good wishes. Congratulations on your flawless debut.”

 

“Thank you,” she answered simply.

 

He looked away then, and she followed his gaze to see the dance floor being cleared for the first dance.

 

When she felt his gaze upon her once more, she returned hers to him.

 

She knew what he would say before he spoke.

 

“If it would not be too much to ask, given that you have not promised it to another, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?”

 

This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. How could she say no?

 

“Yes.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Yes. You may have this dance.”

 

His smile turned to a full-fledged grin then and a sweet shiver ran down her spine. She was starting to understand how it must have been for her father and mother that first night all those years ago.

 

My first love.

 

She might barely have been acquainted with this baron, but she knew without a doubt in her heart that she would not mind spending the rest of her life with him.

 

Her arm tingled as he led her to the dance floor.

 

She dipped into a curtsy as they found a spot, stepping away. He bowed at her and the dance began.

 

As they drew closer, he spoke. “I forgot to mention, Miss. Hartford. It is an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

The pleasure is all mine.

 

Smiling harder than she had in ages, she simply replied, “Likewise, my lord.”