WHISPERS OF THE HEART
PROLOGUE
“M y lady.”
Miss Ann Whyte looked up from her needlework, smiling briefly as she glanced at the note that the butler held out on a silver tray.
“Thank you,” she murmured, looking down at it and realizing that the handwriting was her brother’s. Her heart leaped and she quickly set her needlework down, picking up the letter at once so that she might break the seal. Exiting the room discreetly, the butler left Ann to herself, knowing how eagerly the young lady had been waiting for that communication.
“Oh, Theodore.”
Ann’s eyes misted as she read her brother’s letter, telling her that he was well and as yet, uninjured – a remark which made Ann wince even though her heart was filled with relief at such news. Her brother had gone to fight for his King against the French and, even though he held the title of Viscount, had chosen to do so regardless of his duty to the title. Ann had not said a word about his decision, knowing that it was not her place to do so and that anything her brother felt was required of him in terms of his duty was something she could not speak to. Her eyes moved down the page as she continued to read, only for them to flare wide, her hand fluttering against her chest as her breath caught painfully. Surelynot.
“‘You are expected in a fortnight at the Earl of Ware’s townhouse in London,’” she read aloud, utterly astonished at such a direction. “‘You see, my dear Ann, I have not forgotten that it is the London Season soon and that you will be most eager to make your way there in search of a husband! Thus, I have made an arrangement with Lord Ware for you to reside in his home, under
the care of his mother. There is money for all that you require – my steward will make certain of it. Lord Ware’s mother, Lady Ware, will chaperone you throughout the Season and will guide you, should it come to any gentlemen wishing to propose, which, of course, I am certain they shall. Lord Ware will send his carriage and servants to convey you to London.’”
Ann dropped her hand to her lap, her face now a little pale as she stared blankly across the room. She had not had even a single thought about going to London for the Season! She had been more than content here, residing in her brother’s country home and waiting for his return. Her companion, their now elderly nurse, spent most of her days asleep by the fire, but Ann had not felt herself overly lonely. She had been wanting nothing more than to remain here until her brother returned, and had prayed fervently every day that it might soon be so. Now, it seemed, she was to leave her companion here and make her way to London, as though her brother expected her to throw herself into all manner of gaiety and delight instead of considering the war and praying that it would soon go in England’s favor. Her stomach cramped as she shook her head to herself, finding a flare of anger burning in her heart. Her brother, Viscount Brigstock, had taken it upon himself to make such arrangements without even enquiring as to whether or not this would be of any interest to her! Of course he would think that her only desire would be to go to London for the Season, but did he not know her well enough to consider that she might find such a thing a little unsettling? Ann did not know how she would enjoy the London Season knowing that her brother was still fighting in such a great and terrible war!
Sighing, she picked up the letter and finished reading it, her shoulders slumped and a slight upset in her soul.
“‘I do not wish to concern you, my dear Ann,’” she finished, reading aloud, “‘but there is always a distinct possibility that I might never return to you. Therefore, I want to make certain that you are happy and settled with a good husband. Pray, do not spend the Season thinking of me and worrying about where I am. Do all you
can to make a good match and know that such news will lift a burden from my shoulders.’”
He finished with the usual expressions of familial love and the like, but Ann found her eyes filling with tears as a searing guilt scored her heart. She had been angry with her brother only a few moments ago, thinking him a trifle unfeeling and even a little ridiculous, only to see now that he cared for her very deeply indeed. He wanted her to go to London so that she might find a suitable husband and, in doing so, make certain that she was looked after should the very worst happen. If that did not speak of his consideration for her, then Ann did not know what would! Her heart warmed and yet still, she felt such a great and piercing sorrow that tears came to her eyes despite herself.
Ifonlythiswarcouldcometoanend,she thought, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. Thenhemightcomehome.
Lifting her chin, Ann blinked rapidly and sniffed a little indelicately. There. The moment had passed and now she had to think on her future. She was to go to London after all, it seemed!
“To Lord Ware,” she murmured aloud, setting down the letter and once more picking up her needlework.
She did not know how her brother had made such an arrangement, but Ann was determined to be grateful for it. There was a nervous anxiety building within her heart, however, for to make her way to London without ever having set eyes upon her host or her host’s mother was quite an undertaking! Lord Ware, she considered, must be very generous indeed to be so willing to permit her to join his household for the Season. And his mother too! Biting her lip, Ann tried to focus on her needlework so that any feelings of nervousness or fear would dissipate. Whatever happened, she had to trust that her brother’s arrangements were for her good and that, despite her worries, she would have a most excellent Season.
CHAPTER ONE
Grimacing, Geoffrey chose to remain quite silent despite the call of his mother. He was most disinclined towards her continual insistence upon calling for him throughout the townhouse, even though she had many servants who could easily have either told her where he was at present or gone in search of him on her behalf.
“Ware?”
Closing his eyes, Geoffrey felt his lip curl but forced his irritation away. His mother was a little exuberant today, he knew and thus, he felt obliged to forgive her. Miss Whyte was due to arrive at any moment and he was sure that his mother had, since her first waking moment, done nothing but make certain that the place was prepared for the arrival.
“Ah!” The door swung open and his mother stood there, one hand pointing out towards Geoffrey. “There you are!”
“Here I am, mother,” Geoffrey replied, one eyebrow lifting. “Might I ask if there is something that you wish from me?”
He did not continue to hold her gaze but looked down pointedly at the papers on his desk, wishing her to understand that he was, in fact, rather busy. Lady Ware did not seem to notice this, however, for she swept into the room, waving her hands about as she began to speak.
“Where is the girl?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. “You stated that she would be arriving shortly after luncheon and as yet, there is no sign of her!”
Geoffrey’s eyes strayed to the clock. It was only an hour since luncheon, and he did not feel any such frustration nor concern.
“I think that you are being a little impatient, mother,” he said, gently. “Miss Whyte will be with us as soon as she is able, I am
sure.”
This did not satisfy his mother, for she sighed loudly and shook her head.
“I fear that something may have happened to her on the road,” she stated, her hands now at her hips. “She is all alone!”
“She is not alone, mother,” Geoffrey replied, firmly. “I have sent two maids as chaperones, and the coachman, groom, and footman will do very well. After all, they managed to get both of us to London without difficulty, did they not?” He eyed his mother who, after a few moments, nodded. “She will be here very soon, I am sure of it.”
Lady Ware opened her mouth, perhaps intending to rebuff him, only to shake her head and sigh heavily.
“I do hope that you are right, Ware,” she muttered, making her way to the window and looking out of it in a forlorn manner. “I must hope that she is safe.”
Geoffrey said nothing, allowing his gaze to rest on his mother for a short while. She was still very much a beauty, with dark tresses which held only a hint of grey and sparkling green eyes that he had inherited. He was appreciative of her concern for Miss Whyte, for it spoke of her kind and considerate character, but it also betrayed the anxiety and concern which seemed to fill so many parts of her life.
Perhaps that anxiety had come at the same time as his father –and Lady Ware’s husband – had died. It had been an unexpected passing, for the late Lord Ware had fallen ill and had left them only three days later. That had been some years ago now but still, Geoffrey felt waves of grief wash over his soul at the most unexpected of times, which left him wondering just how much grief his mother still endured. Mayhap that was why she now was so concerned over Miss Whyte’s arrival, he considered, tilting his head just a little. She had come to London with him solely because she would have a charge; someone to look after, to guide, and to consider at each turn. When he had first suggested it, Geoffrey had not been certain that his mother would agree and had been pleasantly surprised at her excitement. It seemed to have taken her out of herself and had now given her such a sense of purpose that
Geoffrey was, despite his own uncertainty about the situation, rather pleased to see it.
Ifonlyshedidnotfretso!
“And you have never laid eyes upon this young lady?”
“I have not,” Geoffrey replied, as his mother twisted her head around to look at him. “As you are aware, Lord Brigstock and I were in the army together, before I was required to return.” He saw his mother’s lips twist and hid a smile, knowing how little she liked to discuss, or even mention, the war. “That gentleman was one of the bravest I have known, mother. There is nothing I would not do for him.”
Lady Ware nodded slowly but said nothing, turning her head back towards the window as though, the longer she stared, the more likely it was that Miss Whyte and her carriage would come around the corner. Allowing his faint smile to linger a little longer, Geoffrey turned his attention back towards his papers and tried to make sense of what was being asked of him. He had one letter from Lord Harrogate, who was still absent from England given that he had taken his new wife on a wedding trip, but who informed him that, when they returned, he wished to do all he could to continue assisting with the war effort. Geoffrey’s smile grew. Lord and Lady Harrogate were both excellent people and he would look forward to their return, knowing that he could certainly make use of Lord Harrogate’s skills, should it be required.
Hearing his mother murmur something more about the carriage being delayed, Geoffrey considered the fact that the lady that would soon be arriving in his home. Miss Ann Whyte was not known to him – indeed, he had never once been introduced to her – but he owed her brother a debt of gratitude that could not be forgotten. His eyes drifted to the small stack of letters that sat on one side of his desk. Every evening, the butler carefully placed them into one of the drawers of his study desk, whilst each morning, Geoffrey would take them back out again. These letters meant something to him and, given their importance, he wanted to keep them nearby. Giving into the urge growing within him, Geoffrey reached for them and shifted through the small pile until he found the one that he was looking for.
‘My sister is small, slight, and yet quite determined,’ he read, making certain to listen to his mother with only half an ear as she, yet again, gave voice to her worry. ‘Shewillbeno trouble,Iassure you.HernatureissweetnessitselfandIamcertainthat,withinonly a few weeks,shewillhaveanofferofmatrimony. Thereisboundto be someone who wishes to take her! As always, my dear friend, I wishyou the very best and thankyou wholeheartedly for whatyou andyourmotherarewillingtodoforAnn.’
“Thanks are not required, old friend,” Geoffrey said quietly, looking down at the letter with a small, rueful smile. It was not as though Geoffrey had ever had any intention of refusing any request that came his way from Lord Brigstock, for Geoffrey knew he owed the man a great deal. Anything that Lord Brigstock had asked, Geoffrey would have instantly agreed to do, for the gentleman had given him his life and, had he not acted as he had, Geoffrey was quite certain that he would now be dead and buried, leaving his mother to mourn him. Lord Brigstock had been the one who had pulled Geoffrey from the battlefield, who had made certain that he had not been left to be discovered by the enemy.
Even now, Geoffrey could not quite recall what had occurred. He could only remember hitting the ground hard, and the harsh, gritty taste of soil in his mouth and nose before everything had gone black. Lord Brigstock had told him that his horse had bucked, fearful of the gunshots so close to them and that he had fallen, hard. On top of which, it seemed, one of the shots had gone straight through his shoulder – although, again, Geoffrey had not been able to recall a single moment of this event. When he had awoken, the surgeon had informed him of Lord Brigstock’s bravery in pulling him from the battlefield, despite the continuing gunshots and the incoming enemy. He had taken his life in his hands to save Geoffrey’s, and thus, Geoffrey was now indebted to him. Lord Brigstock had never demanded anything from him, however, and had stated that he did not require any sort of recompense, but Geoffrey had been determined. Therefore, when the request from Lord Brigstock came, Geoffrey had eagerly agreed to it, even though he had the sole intention of placing Miss Whyte into the care of his mother. He would
have very little to do with the girl, for he had other matters to deal with, and none of them involved chaperoning a girl coming out into society!
A sudden, loud exclamation from his mother had Geoffrey starting violently, his letter crumpling in his hand for a moment.
“The carriage is here!”
Geoffrey rose to his feet as his mother let out a small, almost childlike squeal of excitement and hurried towards the door.
“Do come on, Geoffrey!” she exclaimed, calling him by his Christian name - something she did only when she was in a state of exultation or great sorrow. “The lady has arrived!”
He smoothed the crumpled letter, and placed it back on the pile, then glanced down at himself, to make certain his clothing was presentable before he made his way from the room. Much to his surprise, he felt a little nervous about meeting Miss Whyte. He did not know why, and certainly wanted nothing more than to push such feelings away, for he considered them to be quite ridiculous. There was no need for such nervousness, for the lady was not going to be a big part of his life. His mother would take care of her, and he would only have to converse now and again. Yes, he would make certain to introduce himself, to behave in a warm and friendly manner, but there was nothing else which was expected of him. Taking in a deep breath, he set his shoulders and made his way to the front door.
His mother was already standing there, waiting patiently for the young lady to enter. Her hands were clasped lightly in front of her, but Geoffrey could tell by the smile on her lips and the sparkle in her eyes that she was very excited indeed. He was glad of it, for to see her in such an uplifted state of mind was preferable to the sadness and grief which had been a part of her life for so long.
“I am sure you will have an excellent Season with the lady, Mother,” Geoffrey murmured, coming to stand next to her. “Thank you for your willingness to assist with this.”
Lady Ware smiled back at him.
“I have never had a daughter to chaperone,” she replied, quietly. “That is not something which I regret, nor something about
which I am expressing sorrow. However, there is something wonderful in the notion of having a young lady to take to the London Season.” Her eyes brightened all the more. “This is not a burden to me, Ware. Rather, it will be a pleasure.”
There was nothing more for them to say, for the door opened just as Lady Ware finished speaking and, after a moment, Miss Whyte walked in to join them. Light streamed in from the doorway, making her profile hard to make out but Geoffrey did not hesitate.
“Miss Whyte.” Geoffrey bowed low, wanting to make certain that he welcomed the lady properly. “How very good to meet you. As you might have surmised, I am the Earl of Ware and this is my mother, Lady Ware.”
He gestured to his mother who hurried forward to take Miss Whyte’s hand.
“I am very glad to have you joining us for the London Season, Miss Whyte,” she said, eagerly. “But you must be tired after your journey.”
Geoffrey, who had been watching the footmen bringing in Miss Whyte’s trunks, finally turned his attention to the lady herself as she replied in the affirmative. The butler closed the door and his eyes adjusted, so that he was finally able to make out the lady’s features. His breath hitched.
She was beyond his expectations. She had just removed her bonnet, and her fair hair curled gently around her temples, pulled back into a neat chignon. Her cheeks were a soft pink, she had a straight nose and full, flowing lips which were curved into a gentle smile. Her eyes were what caught him the most, however. They were like a thunderstorm, grey and swirling with hints of dark brown that Geoffrey was sure would change to gold should she laugh or smile with delight. They were framed by thick, dark lashes and Geoffrey could not look away. His heart was pounding painfully, his full attention now solely fixed on this young beauty who stood before him. All of his intentions of remaining far from her, of not being particularly involved in her interactions and meetings and the like, flew from him in an instant as the urge to know her better grew steadily.
“Ware?”
He cleared his throat abruptly, looking away from Miss Whyte and back towards his mother.
“Yes?”
“Miss Whyte must be fatigued,” she said, a note of chiding in her voice. “Mayhap we should offer her some refreshments before showing her up to her rooms?” His mother’s eyes were fixed to his, flaring wide for a moment as she waited, clearly having expected him to have already said something akin to this.
“But of course.” Geoffrey placed his hands behind his back, a little embarrassed that he had allowed himself to become so distracted and had done nothing but stare at the young lady rather than think of what he ought to be doing for her wellbeing! “Miss Whyte, the choice is yours. Would you prefer to rest for a time in your room? I can have a tea tray sent up to you. Or, would you wish to join us in the parlor for a short while before resting?” He spread his hands and tried to smile, aware of the flush which was now creeping up his neck. “We will not be offended, regardless of your choice, Miss Whyte, I assure you.”
“The journey has been very long and you must be tired,” Lady Ware added, as though trying to encourage the young lady to choose what was best for herself rather than what she felt would be the most proper.
Geoffrey kept his gaze pinned in place but found it difficult to look at Miss Whyte directly. He found himself still rather overwhelmed by her beauty and, given that he had not expected himself to be so affected, was now feeling very much on edge.
“You are both very kind,” Miss Whyte said, her voice soft and filled with a weariness that Geoffrey knew came from being overlong in a carriage. “I should very much like to rest, although I do hope that you will not think ill of me for avoiding your company!”
Her eyes flew from Geoffrey to his mother and back again, clearly anxious that she had offended them, but Lady Ware began to reassure her immediately.
“Not at all, Miss Whyte!” she exclaimed, as Geoffrey shook his head. “You are not upsetting or offending us in any way. We both
quite understand that you require rest. After all, when I first arrived in London, I spent the first sennight here in the house! I did not go out to see a single living soul but instead sought only good food and plenty of rest.” She smiled and, much to Geoffrey’s relief, Miss Whyte smiled in return, relief etched into her features. “Now come, I will take you to your rooms.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Geoffrey said, as Miss Whyte looked up at him. “I will join you both for dinner.”
He inclined his head to Miss Whyte, only for her to stop in front of him rather than walking away beside his mother.
“Lord Ware,” she said, her voice still very soft, but with a streak of determination running through it. “I should not be happy to make my way through your house without first stopping to thank you for the generosity you have shown to both myself and my brother in permitting me to reside with you for the Season.” She lifted her chin a little more, taking in a deep breath as though she needed to draw up her courage before she continued. “It is very gracious of you, and I am grateful for the opportunity presented to me due to your goodness. I promise that you shall never have need to question my conduct nor my manner, for I intend to behave with all propriety and gentility, as I have been taught. I will bring no shame to my brother or to this household, I assure you.”
Geoffrey did not quite know what to say to such a speech, for he had never even considered whether or not Miss Whyte would behave with decorum. He had fully expected it from her but, he supposed, this short speech from the lady assured him that she understood all that would be expected from her during the Season. Clearing his throat a little gruffly, and seeing the pointed look from his mother, he inclined his head towards Miss Whyte once more, seeing the uncertain look in her eyes.
“Miss Whyte, I have every assurance from your brother that you are the most demure and respectable of young ladies,” he said, seeing the slight widening of her eyes as she took in what he had said. “I have every confidence in you. Do not have any concerns as regards my opinion of you, for it is already very good.” With a smile that he hoped was one of reassurance, he spread out one hand
towards his mother. “Pray, go and rest now, Miss Whyte. I will speak to you again come dinner.”
Miss Whyte nodded, smiled briefly and then walked towards his mother, who quickly slipped her arm through the young lady’s and led her up the staircase to where her room was waiting. Geoffrey followed them both with his eyes, his gaze lingering on Miss Whyte’s form. A deep frown crossed his brow and Geoffrey forced himself to look away. This was not what he had intended and he needed to make certain that he did not allow himself to become distracted by the lady. Just because she was remarkably pretty did not mean that he had to do anything other than what he had intended. His mother would take care of Miss Whyte and he would continue about his business, just as he had planned.
Shedoesneedahusband.
The thought was fleeting but caught Geoffrey unawares. Closing his eyes tightly, he shook his head to himself, as though forcing himself to remove any such thought from his mind. He had no intention whatsoever of marrying at present and, whilst there was the awareness that he would need to do so at some point – the line needed to continue once he was gone – there was no real urgency. Besides which, given that he was still involved in particular affairs as regarded the war, Geoffrey told himself that he could not permit himself to be at all distracted. There was too much at stake and if he were the cause of any failure or attack, Geoffrey would never forgive himself.
No, he would have to keep the lady at arm’s length, just as he had intended. She would be the responsibility of his mother and he would be cordial, but distant. And if he should notice her, if she were looking particularly lovely, then Geoffrey would have to avert his eyes and look away. He could not afford any mistakes. Setting his shoulders, Geoffrey drew in a deep breath and nodded to himself before turning on his heel and striding away. Miss Whyte was here with them now, yes, but he would not allow her presence to cause any alterations to his plans or intentions. He could only pray that she would soon find a husband and, with that connection being formed, she would not linger in his house overly long. Ignoring the kick to his
stomach at the thought of Miss Whyte being wed to another, Geoffrey moved away from the staircase and made his way back to the study, thrusting all thought of the lady away as he determined not to think on her again. There was already too much for him to do.
CHAPTER TWO
Ann had never been particularly inclined to gaze at herself in the looking glass but, as she now looked at her reflection, she thought herself very ill-looking indeed. She appeared almost wraith-like, with her pale skin, sunken cheeks, and grey eyes which held no trace of brightness. Her lips turned downwards and even when she feigned a smile, it did not seem to lift her features in the way that she had hoped. Pulling the pins from her hair, she waited for it to cascade down her back and over her shoulders, only to see it lying limp and forlorn as though it too felt the same weariness which prevailed upon the rest of her.
Her shoulders slumped and she turned away from the looking glass, feeling very despondent indeed. She had told herself that, in being present with Lord Ware and his mother, she would find a certain sense of happiness and even of relief, but instead, she was filled with the very same sorrow and anxiety which had been a part of her ever since her brother’s letter. Were she to be honest, Ann would state quite openly that she did not wish to be here. Whilst it was kindness itself for Lord Ware to open his home to her in such a manner, and for Lady Ware to be her chaperone throughout the Season, Ann felt no joy in being in London. The torture which had filled her soul as the carriage had rolled away from her brother’s estate had not lessened the closer she had come to London. In fact, it had intensified to the point that Ann had found herself blinking away tears as she had been brought into the townhouse. She was grateful at least that Lady Ware had seen the fatigue which Ann wore like a cloak and had quietly offered her the chance to rest. Ann did not think that she would have succeeded in maintaining her
composure otherwise, and she certainly did not want to embarrass herself by bursting into tears in front of Lord Ware!
Ann’s lips twisted. Rising to her feet, she made her way to the large four-poster bed in the center of the room and sat down upon it, feeling the softness beneath her. The maid had already been to help Ann change out of her traveling clothes and Ann had no hesitation in pulling back the covers and lying down. Her head sank into the soft pillow, and she closed her eyes as a long sigh emitted from her lips. Perhaps she would feel better after she had rested, for sleep always brought with it a relief from one’s troubles.
LordWareisahandsomegentleman,ishenot?
The quiet voice in her heart had her eyes flying open as she stared blankly ahead, her heart beating a little more quickly. She had not wanted to admit such a thing to herself, but it appeared that her heart was determined for her to take note of it regardless. Pressing her lips together, Ann let out a small groan of frustration before turning over and closing her eyes tightly again. Yes, she admitted to herself, Lord Ware was a handsome gentleman, but he had been very reserved in his manner and had not smiled at her once. She believed that he had tried to do so on one occasion, but it had appeared that he had not managed, for there had been nothing but a slightly frustrated expression on his face. It appeared that Lord Ware was not as delighted as his mother at her presence in his home and, despite what her brother had written to her, Ann was quite certain that Lord Ware was not eager for her company.
Her eyes still tightly closed, Ann let out another long breath, trying to relax and forget about the Earl of Ware, so that sleep might take her. Yet, try as she might, the memory of how he had appeared when she had first entered the house remained with her.
He had been a tall, somewhat imposing figure, with broad shoulders and a lift to his chin that spoke of confidence and determination. Sharp green eyes had lingered on her, narrowing just a little as though he were attempting to make her out. With a firm jaw, soft brown hair firmly in place, and very precise features, Lord Ware appeared to be a very orderly man. There had been not even a hint of friendliness nor pleasure in his long, thin lips and there had
been a bit of superciliousness in his gaze. Even now, Ann felt the sting of being unnoticed by him. Lady Ware had been speaking to her and had remarked that Lord Ware had arranged for refreshments and the like for Ann, only to look at her son and see him standing silently without any seeming awareness of what they were speaking of. It had only been when Lady Ware had spoken more directly and with a very pointed look that Lord Ware had finally realized what was being asked of him and responded. Ann had felt such an overwhelming sense of mortification that it had taken all of her fortitude to speak to him directly, having intended to speak openly to him of her gratitude and appreciation – even if she did not truly feel such things. Lord Ware had appeared a little embarrassed himself at least, perhaps aware that he had behaved poorly in giving her so little attention, and he had listened with great care to her thereafter. Ann could only pray that Lord Ware would show her even a trifle more attention in the days to come. That way, at least, she might not feel as she did now for too much longer.
Another sigh shook her frame and this time, Ann let the tears come. They ran down her cheeks and soaked into her pillow as she cried softly. She cried for the home she had left behind, for the brother still gone from England’s shores. She cried over the uncertainty and fear in her heart, for her desire to return home rather than remain here. But most of all, she cried from a great sense of loneliness, of being entirely by herself without having another single living soul aware of the true thoughts and wishes which were held within her heart. She had to pretend, to play a false Ann who was greatly delighted at being present here in London, and was looking forward to making a match. She had no-one to confide in, no-one to listen to her and to take away some of her pain. Her heart ached terribly, and the tears continued to fall as Ann curled up into a ball and pulled the covers a little more tightly over herself. Sleep came in time and, as the tears dried on her cheeks, Ann fell into a deep slumber.
“GOOD MORNING, MISS WHYTE!”
Ann had never felt so ashamed. She had awoken in a confusion, sitting up sharply in her bed without having any real awareness of where she was. It had only been when the maid had entered to light the fire that Ann had recalled her new situation. This had then been followed by the realization that she was still wearing what she had been in the previous afternoon, having come to bed to rest. Having asked the maid what time it was and whether or not she ought now to prepare for dinner, Ann had been horrified to discover that it was now the following day and that the fire the maid was lighting was simply to chase away the early morning chill.
“Lady Ware.” Ann dropped her head, keeping her hands clasped in front of her as she walked into the breakfast room. “I can only apologize, I must –”
Lady Ware shook her head and rose from her chair, coming towards Ann and holding out one hand to her.
“My dear Miss Whyte, you must not apologize,” she said, firmly. “You were quite exhausted, it seems!”
“I was,” Ann replied, as Lady Ware pressed her hand comfortingly. “But I ought not to have slept through dinner. Had I awoken, I would have joined you at once, but it seems that I –”
Again, Lady Ware interrupted her.
“Miss Whyte, you must not concern yourself,” she stated firmly, and began to draw Ann towards the table. “You must have been greatly fatigued and, whilst I will admit that I sent a maid to your room in order to make certain that you were quite well, I then informed her to leave you to rest.” She gestured for Ann to sit down, just as a footman drew near so that he might assist her with her chair. “Please, Miss Whyte, you are not even to think of apologizing any longer. You were utterly exhausted and both myself and my son were very glad indeed that you chose to rest.”
Given this great – almost frantic – level of reassurance, Ann had no other choice but to quietly thank the lady and then turn her attention to breaking her fast. She was rather relieved that the lady had not required a grand and overlong apology, for whilst Ann had been eager to apologize should she be required to do so, she had been a little afraid of what Lady Ware’s reaction might be. The lady, however, was nothing but graciousness and appeared even a little anxious about Ann herself, clearly wanting her to feel at ease. Her eyes continued to search Ann’s face as Ann reached to pour herself a cup of tea, whilst the footman stood ready to bring her whatever food she requested from the trays of dishes just behind her.
“You must be very hungry indeed, so pray do not feel as though you must stand on ceremony!” Lady Ware exclaimed, flapping one hand in the direction of the food. “You must request whatever you please and eat as much as you want.” Her eyes brightened and her smile spread across her face. “Indeed, I will admit that I am always practically ravenous come the morning and, had I not already broken my fast, I would have joined you without question!”
This was said to reassure Ann and, given the lady’s obvious desire for her to feel quite at ease and to break her fast without hesitation, Ann could not help but smile. She felt some of the weight that had been settled on her heart beginning to fade away as she asked the footman for some hot buttered toast.
“I did wonder, Miss Whyte, whether or not you would feel strong enough to take a short stroll through London this afternoon?” Lady Ware asked, as Ann added a little milk to her tea. “We could take the carriage a short distance and then step out for just as long as you felt able?”
“I should like that.” Ann saw the lady smile in relief and felt her spirits lift a little more. There was a great kindness which seemed to emanate from Lady Ware and Ann could not help but feel a little better given such compassion and sympathy. “London must be very busy at this time of year.”
A spark flashed in Lady Ware’s eyes.
“Yes, it can be!” she exclaimed, although this did not seem to dampen her in any way but rather to encourage her all the more.
“There are a great many gentlemen and ladies in London at the present time. You will be one of many making their come out, Miss Whyte, but I am certain that you will make an excellentimpression.”
“If I am truthful, Lady Ware, I would tell you that I am very nervous indeed about having to step out into society,” Ann replied, finding herself speaking without reserve. Having had no intention of doing such a thing, she began to stammer, her cheeks flushing. “That is to say, I – I do not mean to state that I am ungrateful for this opportunity to be in London, Lady Ware, it is – it is only that –”
Lady Ware laughed and held up one hand, palm outwards so as to quieten Ann’s frantic monologue.
“It is perfectly natural to feel such a way, Miss Whyte,” she said, smiling. “I myself felt much nervousness when I first came to London and, indeed, I am certain that unless one has a little too much confidence, it is almost proper for one to feel so.” Her head tilted just a little. “Would you mind, Miss Whyte, if I referred to you as ‘Ann’?” She lifted one shoulder. “You need not agree if you do not wish it, but given that we are to be in one another’s company so much of the time, I had wondered if you would feel more comfortable if I were to address you so.”
Ann swallowed hard but nodded, finding it impossible to do otherwise. It was not as though she could refuse such a request, but it did feel a little discomfiting. But, she considered, as Lady Ware expressed her thanks and her pleasure, there was to be a closeness between herself and Lady Ware and it would be wise to permit the lady to address her so.
WhatifLordWarewishestodothesame?
A flush of heat spiraled up into Ann’s cheeks at the thought, but she pushed it away hastily. There was no possible chance that the Earl would wish to speak to her in such a manner, for it would be very improper indeed for a gentleman to call her by her Christian name, even if she was residing in his house. Besides which, given how he had behaved last evening, Ann was quite certain that he would not wish to call her anything but ‘Miss Whyte’ and as infrequently as he could, given that she was sure he did not wish to be often in her company.
“My son will accompany us to the first ball, of course,” Lady Ware continued, as Ann flushed even more as she turned her attention back to the lady, realizing that she had missed almost everything which had been said. “And, of course, he will make certain to dance with you for the first dance of the evening.” She smiled warmly at Ann who, upon hearing this, felt a huge swirl of tension begin to form the pit of her stomach. “I am sure you will do very well. You have been trained in all of the usual dances?”
Ann opened her mouth to answer but found her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, her whole body beginning to tingle with a nervous fright which simply would not release her. The thought of dancing in front of the tonwas one thing, but to do so with the Earl of Ware was quite another.
“Of course you have been, that is a very foolish question for me to ask,” Lady Ware said briskly, after a few moments of silence. “Forgive me, Ann.” She laughed suddenly as Ann reached for her teacup, wondering if a quick sip would help loosen her tongue. “My son is an excellent dancer but there have been occasions when he has allowed himself to become distracted and has very nearly trodden on the toes of whichever young lady he is dancing with!”
“That was only on one particular occasion, mother, and is not likely to be repeated.”
Ann almost choked on her tea but managed to swallow it quickly, setting down her teacup before having to pull out her hankerchief to cough into it in the most embarrassing manner. She had not expected Lord Ware to walk into the room and having not seen him enter, his deep but rather loud voice had caught her quite by surprise.
“I see that you have managed to join us this morning, Miss Whyte,” the Earl continued, as Ann quickly folded up her kerchief and lifted her gaze to where he stood, seeing the way that his eyes brushed down over her as though inspecting whether or not the horse he had purchased was of decent quality. “You required a little more rest last evening, it seemed.” There was no sympathy in his voice, no softening in his expression as he spoke and Ann felt heat begin to spread up through her cheeks as she nodded, not quite
certain what else to say. Lord Ware was not speaking to her in a kind manner, as his mother had done, and Ann could not tell whether or not he had been offended by her absence last evening. “You are rested now, however.” This was followed by a slight sniff which Ann took to be one of disdain, as though he thought her quite poorly for requiring such a thing as rest.
“I – I am, Lord Ware,” Ann replied, hating that her voice was so thin and her response so weak. “I thank you.”
“Do not even consider chiding her for her absence,” Lady Ware interrupted, frowning hard at her son. “Need I remind you how many times you have missed dining with me, due to one thing or another?”
This, Ann noted, seemed to disconcert Lord Ware somewhat, for he shrugged, cleared his throat, and then meandered to the sideboard where the food was laid out, picking up a plate and adding one or two things to it. Silence fell as he did so, with Lady Ware keeping her sharp gaze pinned to her son, as though she expected him to say something more, something which she might then have to refute. Ann said nothing, aware of the great cloud of tension which had come over her, now that she was once more in Lord Ware’s presence. The thought of having to dance with him seemed all the more disagreeable and silently, Ann prayed that she would not have to do so. Perhaps another gentleman could be found to take his place, someone who would be glad to stand up with her. It seemed that Lord Ware found her presence somewhat irritating, and Ann found herself less inclined to be in his company with every passing moment.
Lord Ware took a seat at the table, and for a short while, there was silence as he ate. Then he looked up at his mother, and spoke.
“Might I hope that you have the intention of removing yourself from the house today, Mother?”
Ann’s stomach clenched tightly as she looked from mother to son and back again, a little astonished at Lord Ware’s tone. To her, such a statement appeared to be very rude indeed and, were she Lady Ware, Ann suspected that she would have been deeply
offended. Lady Ware, however, merely sighed heavily and shook her head, before arching one eyebrow in her son’s direction.
“Are you so inclined to remove me from this house that you would practically insist upon it?” she asked, as a small smile pulled at Lord Ware’s lips. “You wish for a little quiet, a little time to wander through the house without any female company, is that not so?”
Lord Ware laughed and shrugged, although Ann found nothing to smile at.
“That may be so, mother, but you can hardly blame me for it,” he replied, sending another glance towards Ann. “After all, given that I am now outnumbered within my own home, you cannot expect me to remain as contented as before!”
Ann stiffened as Lord Ware caught her eye. Was he attempting to tell her that her presence in his home was causing him some difficulty? And that he did not particularly enjoy having her here? Her chin lifted despite her intent to remain meek and quiet. She was not about to allow Lord Ware to treat her in any sort of disparaging manner. He had stated to her brother that she was welcome here, that he intended to support her during the Season and, therefore, that was what she expected him to do. There was no need for him to complain or to state that he was discomfited by having more of a female presence within his house, for he had been the very one to put such a thing in place!
“I am sure you will be even more contented, Lord Ware,” she found herself saying, rising slowly from her chair and holding his gaze with a firm look. “And I know that my brother will be very grateful when I write to inform him that I have arrived here safely. He spoke very highly of you in his letter.” She tilted her head, examining Lord Ware as she spoke and finding a courage within her heart that she had not known she possessed. “I should hate to write to him and state that, unfortunately, my impression of your character is quite different from what he himself wrote of you.”
Lord Ware did not smile. In fact, his brows knotted together, and his eyes hooded as he looked back at her.
“No,” he muttered, darkly, “we should not wish for that at all, Miss Whyte.”
He waited for some moments until she took her seat again, now feeling a great flush of heat pour into her face as she saw the look of interest and confusion which now flickered across Lady Ware’s features. Lord Ware, however, set his utensils down, cleared his throat and then bade them both a good day before taking his leave. He did not look at Ann directly and neither did she raise her eyes to his. There was a great sense of mortification growing within her, but Ann slowly pushed it aside, welcoming the small glow of triumph which was there also. At least Lord Ware now knew that she was not the sort of young lady who would simply sit there quietly as he said whatever he wished, no matter how cutting or disingenuous. He had already made an impression on her and, without saying anything explicit, Ann had made it quite clear what she thought of him and that, she considered, was something to be glad about.
“You must forgive my son.” Lady Ware blew out a frustrated breath and shook her head, just as Ann turned to give her full attention. “He is not the most jovial of gentleman, I confess, but he is truly glad that you are residing with us this Season.” The look in her eyes begged Ann to believe her words. “As am I.”
“I am very grateful to have you as my chaperone, Lady Ware,” Ann replied, seeing the lady’s expression soften. “Now, where was it you wished to go today?”
She sat back in her chair and listened as Lady Ware began to talk of all the places they might go, feeling a little more contented within herself. Lord Ware had the measure of her at least and Ann had found a courage to speak with more boldness than she had ever expected. Surely things could only improve from here!
