The Earl, the Lady and the Song of Love by Fanny Finch
Chapter 2
Allan
“I am so thrilled that we could meet like this, my Lord. I had begun to lose hope of this ever happening, but your mother was adamant that it would.”
Allan Edington, the Marquess of Pembrooke, gazed at the woman sitting across from him, trying his hardest to keep his expression from showing his absolute boredom.
Lady Christine, the latest in a series of hopeful matches his mother had hoisted on him, was pretty with blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. He was certain many other gentlemen would trip over themselves trying to win her favor.
He, however, was not one of those gentlemen.
Her charm ended with her pretty face. Her personality was dull, and she lacked any kind of true wit. He supposed it was not really her fault that she was so boring, as most young ladies of the ton were not raised to be interesting.
She, like most of those who had come before her, had one simple goal in her mind and that was to become some rich Lord’s wife.
Unfortunately for her, that rich Lord will not be me.
He forced a polite smile, and nodded in response to her words.
“Yes, well, my mother can be very…persuasive.”
She had brow-beaten him into attending the meeting with Lady Christine, even going so far as to arrange their setting of the tearoom so that he couldn’t escape the obligation. His mother was determined he should settle down and start a family, whether he liked it or not.
He shot a look toward the nearby table his mother occupied, as if on guard, pretending to read a book. He would rather be reading one of his beloved romance novels than listen to Lady Christine. Allan knew, though, that his mother was not truly reading, but hanging onto their every word.
As much as he loved his mother, and he did as any good son should, her overbearing nature was a constant annoyance that often made things between them tense.
She arched her brow but did not turn her gaze from her book. Allan fought the urge to roll his eyes as he returned his attention to Lady Christine.
“Will you be attending Lady Walden’s soiree later this week?” she asked, her tone far too cheerful for such a mundane question.
Allan shook his head. “No, I declined her invitation as I have another engagement that day.”
Her face momentarily fell with her disappointment, but she quickly rallied and pasted her sugar-sweet smile back in place.
“Oh, well that is a shame. It should be a rather interesting gathering if Lady Margaret is there. You of course have heard the rumors that have been flying about her, have you not? Why, it is rather shocking and I would hardly believe it myself if I did not know her quite so well…”
She prattled on about Lady Margaret’s perceived slights against society, but Allan stopped listening. He gazed around the crowded dining room with a sigh, in no way interested in her gossip, though she would been more than willing to share all that she knew for the past hour.
Lady Christine is not a great keeper of secrets, it seems.
Frustration bubbled up in Allan as the woman continued talking, completely oblivious to his growing ire. That was the problem he continuously encountered, though. The women his mother forced him to socialize with were never actually interested in him, they were only ever interested in his title and wealth, and in cases such as Lady Christine, the sound of their own voice.
As if she could sense his growing frustration, his mother turned her head to shoot him a look of clear warning. He met her gaze and held it defiantly, not bothering to hide his displeasure. In fact, he hoped she could see clearly how very uninterested in Lady Christine he was.
His mother scowled, and he knew she understood him quite perfectly. Turning his gaze back to Lady Christine, he saw she remained oblivious to the battle of wills that had just taken place next to her. Allan could not actually be sure she had stopped talking long enough to breathe since she had started her pointless story.
I am sure that she will make some gentleman a very lovely wife…I should release her so she can go and find him.
“My Lady,” he said, interrupting her continued speech. She blinked at him in surprise, falling silent. “I am sorry to cut you off in the middle of what I am sure is a fascinating account of Lady Margaret’s shortcomings, but I just remembered another engagement I must be getting to.”
Lady Christine gazed at him in confusion, and then there was a flash of frustration in her eyes that she quickly hid under a wide smile.
“Oh, are you certain my Lord? We were having such an enjoyable time.”
Allan crooked a brow but offered what he knew was a charming grin.
“I am afraid that it cannot be helped. Believe me, it pains me to have to leave you so soon, but…duty calls.”
Before she could voice any objection, he pushed to his feet. Meeting his mother’s narrow-eyed glare, he winked then reached into his jacket to pull out a small wad of money. Raising his arm, he signaled their waiter over.
The man hurried to his side.
“Is there something you need, my Lord?”
Holding out his money, Allan slapped it into the waiter’s hand and replied, “This should cover our table, as well as that lady’s over there.”
He indicated toward his mother, whose face was growing red with fury.
“My…my Lord, this is more than enough to cover both bills,” the waiter stammered.
“Keep the rest for yourself,” Allan said, patting the man on his shoulder. Turning back to Lady Christine, he added, “Good day, my Lady.”
Before she could reply, however, he was already striding across the dining room to make his way out of the tearoom. Once outside, he stopped on the edge of the street and released a heavy breath.
Mother will certainly make me pay for that later.
It was a small price to pay to escape that stifling encounter, however. He gazed around, noting that it was starting to turn into evening. Deciding he could use a drink, he turned and began wandering toward a tap room he often frequented at the end of the street.
I should avoid returning home for a little while…give mother some time to get over the worst of her pique.
Allan knew his rejection of her latest pick for his wife-to-be would not deter her from her goal of seeing him married and settled. If anything, it would likely make her more determined to find someone to bind him with. Many people thought he had inherited his stubborn streak from his father, but the truth was that Catherine Edington, Duchess of Wimbley, was where he had truly learned his bullheadedness.
The question is whose will be stronger…hers, or mine?
Allan was so caught up in his musings that he did not notice the small figure turning the corner up just ahead of him. He collided with the person, and the wind was knocked from his lungs.
“Oh! I beg your pardon,” a soft voice hurriedly said. “I…I am so sorry, I was not watching where I was going.”
Allan glanced down to see a head of auburn hair jumping back from him. He paused, staring into a pair of eyes as stunningly blue as a cloudless sky. His heart beat a bit harder as he took in the beautiful woman he had run into.
Blinking, he realized he was staring at her and had not responded to her stammered apology.
“No…no need to apologize,” he finally managed to say, his voice tight as his mind fought its way out of the confused fog that had settled over it. “I was not paying attention myself, so I am equally at fault.”
The woman was wringing her hands together nervously. She was young and her dress wasn’t what he would call fashionable. It was a little drab, but somehow it did not deter from how naturally lovely she was.
He glanced behind her and saw that she was apparently alone. Allan frowned. It was going to be dark soon, which was an awfully risky time for a young lady to be out and about by herself.
“Miss, where do you come from?” he asked, thinking perhaps he should escort her home.
Her gaze saddened for a moment before she answered, “Wales.”
Fighting a grin, Allan replied, “No, you misunderstand…where are you staying? It is not safe for a young lady to be on these streets past sunset. I would be happy to escort you home if you would like.”
Her gaze widened with surprise. “Oh! I suppose I did not think…back home, I was always…” She stopped and took a deep breath before offering him a sheepish half-grin. “I suppose you must think me terribly naïve?”
He gave her a gentle smile. “Perhaps a little, but I do not mean that in any way as an insult. I would simply advise more caution in the future as you wander these streets.”
Her expression was soft and grateful, and his heart thumped loudly in his chest again. She was oddly charming in an innocent, trusting, sort of way. It was so different from the practiced and jaded charm of the ladies of the ton.
This girl was genuine and displayed her every thought and emotion plainly on her face. He found he rather liked that. It was refreshing not having to guess what was truly going on in her mind.
He realized he was staring at her again and quickly cleared his throat to say, “Would you like me to escort you back to wherever it is you are staying then?”
She shook her head, her smile wide. “That will not be necessary, my Lord, but I do appreciate your concern. It is not far. I will be able to get back before dark.”
He was oddly disappointed that she had turned down his offer. He wanted to spend more time talking to her, which in and of itself was a shocking turn of events.
She gazed around briefly before returning her attention to him.
“I suppose I should be going, my Lord. Thank you again for your concern.” The woman curtsied, somewhat clumsily. Turning, she began to walk back the way she had come.
Allan blinked, somewhat caught off guard by her sudden departure. His mind scrambled to come up with something to say to stop her. Before he could get any words out, however, she had turned the corner and was gone.
Allan stared at where she had vanished from view.
What a wonderfully odd woman.
He could not help the quirk of his lips as he recalled the entirety of their brief but memorable encounter. Allan could not recall ever having met a lady who intrigued him quite so much as that woman did.
I wonder where she has gone to.
For a moment, he was tempted to follow after her, but then thought better of it. That would surely frighten her, which was the opposite effect he wanted to have on her. With a sigh, he decided it was best if he just continued on his way and hope that he happened upon her again in the future.
As he moved along the street musing over the captivating woman, he suddenly realized something and came to a stuttering stop. He had been so caught up in their conversation, he had not remembered to ask for her name. Releasing a groan of frustration, he mentally berated himself.
You fool. How will you ever find her again now!
Mumbling under his breath, he continued on his way, his thoughts focused on bright blue eyes and a sweet, naïve smile.