Page 11 of A Lady’s Mishap (The Lockwood Family #5)

11

E lodie settled comfortably on the weathered bench in the gardens, her hand idly stroking Lulu’s soft fur. The puppy was sitting on her lap. Anthony sat beside her, and a comfortable silence descended over them.

Anthony cleared his throat, breaking through the silence. “How was your carriage ride with Lord Westcott?”

Elodie brought her gaze up. “It was enjoyable,” she replied. “Although I did discover that his sister, Lady Eugenie, was the young woman Lord Montrose was attempting to take liberties with.”

Anthony’s posture shifted as he turned slightly, facing her. “Did you mention to Lord Westcott how you dealt with Montrose?”

“Oh, heavens, no, and it seems Lady Eugenie did not mention it, either.”

“Good. The fewer people who know, the better.”

“That was my thought precisely,” Elodie said, lowering her gaze to the puppy. “I cannot wait to see Lulu in his little waistcoat.”

Anthony shook his head. “I contend that a dog should never wear clothing.”

“You are entitled to your opinion, even if it is entirely wrong,” Elodie quipped. “Lulu clearly wants to wear a waistcoat.”

Anthony gave her a skeptical look. “Since when did you start speaking ‘dog’?”

She lifted Lulu so their eyes met. “Surely it is not that difficult to understand,” she said, only for Lulu to lunge forward, licking her face with enthusiasm.

Anthony chuckled. “I believe Lulu’s interest lies more in licking you than in fashion statements.”

“Perhaps we should normalize dogs wearing clothing,” Elodie said.

“Be my guest,” he replied, shrugging. “I have far too much on my plate already.”

Elodie placed Lulu back on the ground, where the puppy quickly ran off to play with Spot. “Ah, the curse of being a lord,” she teased.

Anthony sighed, his expression shadowing briefly. “True enough. My responsibilities increased tenfold when my father fell ill. Now, every detail of the estate rests on my shoulders.”

“That is quite the burden to bear.”

“It is, but it is my duty,” Anthony said.

Elodie groaned. “I hate that word. Duty . It haunts me. My father is forever reminding me of my ‘duty’ to marry and bear sons, as if that is all I was born for.”

“Your father is a good man.”

“He is,” Elodie agreed. “We don’t always see eye-to-eye on things, but I know he has my best interests at heart.”

A thoughtful look passed over Anthony’s face. “An advantageous marriage would bring you security.”

“Yes, but at what cost?” Elodie asked. “I want love or nothing at all.”

“You deserve love,” Anthony said simply.

Elodie smiled. “As do you.”

For a moment, Anthony hesitated, then pressed his lips together. “I am not sure if love is in the cards for me.”

“Whyever not?”

He looked away, the flicker of pain in his eyes just visible before he turned his face. “I would rather not discuss it.”

Elodie caught the sadness in his tone, and it tugged at her heart. “All right. What would you care to talk about, then?”

“Anything else,” he replied.

Trying to lighten the mood, Elodie shared, “I have been thinking of writing a book.”

Anthony’s gaze snapped back to her. “Truly?”

“Indeed,” Elodie replied. “‘A Lady’ has already written two books. Why can’t I? Though I am trying to discover the perfect way to murder someone in the story.”

“That is… unnerving.”

Elodie laughed, waving a hand at the gardens. “Look around you. Many of these flowers are poisonous if consumed. I need to come up with a plausible reason as to why they were consumed.”

Anthony gave her a knowing look. “What would your father think of this literary endeavor?”

The humor left her face. “Oh, he would never approve. But I want to do something more with my life than sitting around.”

“So, aside from novel writing, what interests you?”

“I love naps,” Elodie replied.

Anthony looked heavenward. “That is neither a hobby nor a skill.”

“I disagree,” she replied with mock offense. “You must have your pillows arranged just so to achieve the perfect nap cocoon.”

“Fine. Name another interest.”

Elodie thought for a moment before saying, “I enjoy biscuits.”

Anthony let out a groan. “Again, eating biscuits does not require any skill or talent.”

“That is where you are wrong.”

“Of course I am,” Anthony huffed.

Elodie grinned. “Sometimes I have toeat biscuits quietly during church service. Bennett claims I am a loud chewer, but honestly, I think he is just jealous that I don’t bring any for him.”

Anthony chuckledbut then grew uncharacteristically silent. After a long pause, he spoke. “Since this conversation is going nowhere, I need to tell you something of utmost importance.”

The shift in his tone sent a ripple of concern through her. “What is it, Anthony?”

He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as though grappling with the right words. “I went to the club earlier and I learned something disturbing. Montrose placed a wager in the betting book… and it is about you.”

Rearing back, Elodie asked, “Me?”

Anthony’s jaw tightened. “He wagered that he would marry you by the end of the Season.”

The absurdity of it stunned her, and she leaped from her seat, pacing as she processed the news. “I would never marry that man!”

“I know,” Anthony said, rising. “But there is more. He is telling people that he intends to ‘tame the shrew.’”

Her jaw dropped, and she spun around to face him. “And I am the ‘shrew’ in this scenario?”

Anthony’s gaze softened with sympathy. “I’m afraid so.”

A surge of anger rose from her chest, and she clenched her fists. “What a vile man! I could hit him again.”

Anthony put his hands up. “No. I do not want you to go anywhere near him. Do you understand?”

Elodie resumed her pacing, her thoughts racing. The sheer arrogance of Lord Montrose’s wager was appalling. She would never, under any circumstances, agree to marry him. Even if he were the last man on earth, her answer would remain an emphatic “no.”

Anthony moved to block her path, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “It will be all right, Elodie.”

She looked up, her brow furrowed. “How? Lord Montrose is calling me a ‘shrew.’”

Anthony’s gaze was steady and warm. “There are far worse things to be called. There is no truth behind his words, only cruelty.” He leaned slightly closer, and in the quiet between them, she noticed the subtle flecks of brown in his dark blue eyes. It was a detail that she had never noticed before. She realized how close he was, closer than they had ever been, and her heart beat a little faster.

“Elodie…” he murmured. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

She bit her lip, her thoughts still troubled. “But what of Lord Montrose?”

A faint smile played on his lips. Her eyes drifted to his mouth, and a strange, unfamiliar longing surged through her. It was an inexplicable urge to know what his lips would feel like against hers. Good heavens, where had that thought come from? She was stronger than this, surely.

“Let me handle Montrose,” Anthony said, his voice low and reassuring. “You just focus on enjoying your naps and eating biscuits.”

She frowned. “I can do more than that.”

“I know. But all I want is for you to be happy, whatever it is that you pursue.”

Elodie cocked her head. “Why do you care so much?”

Anthony’s gaze grew intense, a depth of emotion flickering behind his eyes that she had not seen before. “How could I not care about you, Elodie?”

The words struck her like a gentle yet undeniable force, leaving her heart racing. She searched his face, her own emotions jumbled. But before she could find the right words, the sudden, gleeful shout of a child’s voice broke through the moment.

“I got some treats!” Emma announced, bounding over with an excited grin and a handful of food.

Anthony dropped his hands from Elodie’s shoulders, turning towards Emma. Elodie felt a pang of something. Disappointment, perhaps? She tried to make sense of his words and what they meant. He had said he cared for her before. But this time, it was different. She felt something deep down, a quiet, stirring desire, and it frightened her as much as it thrilled her.

“Elodie?” Anthony asked.

She blinked, pulling herself back to the present. “I am sorry. I was… woolgathering.”

Anthony offered her a private smile. “You are missing the show. Emma is training the puppies.”

Elodie turned to watch as the two puppies, Lulu and Spot, sat obediently before Emma, their eyes fixed eagerly on the treats in her hand, tails wagging in unison.

“They are sitting,” Emma declared proudly, grinning ear to ear.

“That they are,” Anthony agreed. “You are doing a fine job of training them.”

Emma’s face lit up even more. “How do I teach them to roll over?”

Anthony crouched down beside her, observing the puppies with a patient smile. “I think we should start small and focus on sitting for now.”

As if on cue, Lulu darted forward and snatched the rest of the treats from Emma’s hand, gobbling them up. Emma gasped in surprise, wagging a scolding finger at Lulu. “Bad dog. You need to share with your brother.”

“I think that is enough training for one day,” Anthony said, standing back up. “Is it not nearly time for your supper?”

“Can the dogs eat dinner with me?” Emma asked, casting a pleading look up at her uncle.

Anthony gave her an indulgent look. “Just this once.”

The nursemaid stepped forward, extending her hand towards Emma. As they began to walk towards the townhouse, Emma turned her head back and called, “Come along, Spot! Lulu!” The two puppies perked up, their tiny tails wagging furiously as they fell in line behind her.

“I wish I could eat dinner with Lulu,” Elodie remarked.

Anthony turned to her, his eyes glinting with mirth. “You could, you know, but only if you agree to marry me.” His tone held a teasing lilt. “Just imagine how impossibly attractive our children would be. We would be the talk of the ton , the most envied family in all of London. No, in all the world.”

“That is quite the tempting offer, but I am afraid I will have to decline.”

He sighed dramatically. “Pity. Well, I suppose you will just have to settle for less attractive children.”

Elodie laughed. Yet, as the laughter faded, she felt a twinge of reluctance. It was nearing time to dress for dinner, but she was not quite ready to say goodbye to Anthony. Gathering her courage, she asked, “Would you care to join my family for dinner? I know it is a bit late notice, but…”

“I would be delighted,” he said, taking a step closer.

A smile curved her lips. “Wonderful. So would I.”

Anthony leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur, his breath warm against her ear. “Careful, Elodie,” he whispered. “You are making it sound as if you enjoy my company.”

The closeness of him, the gentleness of his voice, sent a flutter of nerves through her. She willed herself to remain composed, lifting her chin slightly. “Then I must have misspoken,” she replied, her voice steady despite the warmth creeping up her cheeks.

Anthony took a step back and bowed. “Until later, Elodie.”

Dressed in his finery, Anthony exited his bedchamber and headed down the corridor. He was looking forward to dinner with Elodie and her family. In truth, he looked forward to any time he spent with Elodie.

But first he needed to wish Emma goodnight.

He made his way to the nursery, pushing open the door quietly. Inside, the sight that greeted him made him smile. Emma stood in the center of the room, her small frame commanding the attention of two rambunctious puppies. Her fingers pointed sternly at them.

“Lay down,” she ordered.

The puppies paid her no heed. They jumped up on her with excited barks, their tails wagging furiously. Emma let out a frustrated sigh, her pout deepening.

Anthony leaned against the doorframe and chuckled. “It seems bedtime training isn’t going quite as planned.”

Emma spun around. “I am trying to train them to lay down, but they won’t listen.”

He walked into the room. “Do you have any treats to encourage them?” he asked, crouching down to pet one of the energetic pups.

She offered him a sheepish smile. “I saved some scraps from my dinner.”

“That is brilliant,” Anthony praised. “But training can wait until tomorrow. Right now, it is time for bed.”

Emma moved to the bed, patting the spot beside her. The puppies leaped onto the bed and nestled beside her.

“Shall we read more of Little Red Riding Hood ?” Anthony asked, retrieving the book from the shelf.

“Yes, please!” Emma exclaimed.

Anthony settled on the edge of the bed, gently nudging the puppies aside to make room. As he began to read, Emma rested her head against his arm. His heart stirred at the simple gesture. Moments like these—simple, tender, and unguarded—were the ones he cherished most.

He finished the chapter and closed the book. “That is all for tonight,” he said. “Goodnight, Emma.”

Emma slid under the covers, her head sinking into the plush pillow. “Goodnight, Uncle Anthony.”

Anthony leaned over and blew out the candle, the room falling into a gentle darkness. He tucked the covers around Emma and whispered, “Sweet dreams.” Then he turned and quietly exited the nursery.

As he descended the grand staircase, the soft light from the sconces cast shadows across the marble entry hall, where Percy stood waiting, an unusual solemnity on his face. “My lord,” he said, extending a folded paper towards him. “A letter just arrived. It was delivered to the back door by a street urchin.”

Anthony’s brow furrowed as he accepted the letter. Unfolding it, his eyes scanned the words.

I know all about Lady Elodie and Lord Montrose’s tryst. Ten thousand pounds will buy my silence. Secure the money and I will be in touch.

A surge of anger coursed through him, and he crumpled the note tightly in his fist. “Where is this street urchin now?” he asked.

Percy offered him an apologetic look. “He is gone. We gave him some bread and sent him on his way. Is there a problem?”

“No,” Anthony replied, forcing calm in his tone, though his mind raced. “But if another letter arrives, I want to speak with the messenger directly.”

Percy nodded his understanding. “Yes, my lord.”

At that moment, the main door opened with a sudden bang, and Stephen staggered into the hall, his clothes disheveled, his eyes unfocused. He met Anthony’s gaze with a hazy determination. “Good. You are here. I am going to meet that chit now.”

Anthony frowned. “You are drunk,” he stated, shoving the crumpled note into his jacket pocket.

“That doesn’t matter,” Stephen slurred defiantly, his movements unsteady. “You wanted me to meet my daughter, and I am going to do it. Right now.”

Anthony stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “No, Stephen. You are going to go to your bedchamber and sleep this off.”

With a scowl, Stephen jabbed a finger at Anthony’s chest. “You do not get to dictate my actions, Brother. You may be a viscount, but you have no right to lord over me.”

Anthony held his gaze, undeterred. “You do not want to meet your daughter like this.”

Stephen spread his arms wide, his body swaying. “Why not? This is the real me. A drunk, a wastrel, a cad. Is that not what you think of me?”

“This is not the time to have this discussion,” Anthony responded, trying to keep his tone even.

Stephen leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing. “I am the black sheep of this family. I embarrass you. Admit it.”

Anthony shook his head. “Go sleep it off, Stephen. We will talk in the morning.”

“I don’t want to wait until morning!” Stephen shouted. “I want to talk about this now. It is…” He burped loudly. “… important.”

With a glance at the long clock in the corner, Anthony said, “As much as I would love to continue this discussion, I have dinner plans with Lady Elodie and her family.”

Stephen took a step back, a mocking smile tugging at his lips. “That is fine. I will meet my daughter without you, then.”

“You will do no such thing,” Anthony asserted.

“And why not?” Stephen asked, folding his arms. “Emily is my daughter. I can see her whenever I want.”

Anthony looked heavenward, stifling his frustration. “Her name is Emma . And she is asleep.”

Stephen moved to brush past him. “Then I will wake her up. I am sure she will want to meet her father.”

Moving to block his path, Anthony responded, “No.”

Stephen raised a brow, his eyes flashing with indignation. “I beg your pardon?”

“You are not going to see her, not like this,” Anthony responded. “She deserves better.”

“I will tell her what she deserves, not you,” Stephen sneered.

As they glared at one another, their mother’s voice cut through the tension. “Perhaps you two can continue this conversation in the drawing room.”

Stephen’s smirk faded, and he shrugged with feigned obedience. “Yes, Mother.”

Anthony followed his brother into the drawing room, waiting as their mother closed the door firmly behind them. She looked at each of them in turn, her expression stern. “Have you both forgotten yourselves? There are prying ears everywhere in this house.”

Stephen straightened, adopting an innocent expression. “I merely want to visit my daughter and Anthony is refusing to let me do so.”

Their mother leveled a steady gaze at him. “He is right. You are in no state to do so.”

Stephen huffed. “I should have known you would take his side.”

“I am not taking sides,” their mother responded, her tone firm. “I am pleased that you want to finally meet your daughter, but she retired nearly an hour ago.”

Throwing his arms up, Stephen said, “I finally decided to meet Esther, and now I am refused.”

Their mother sighed. “Her name is Emma , not Esther. And I am not refusing you?—”

“Yes, you are!” Stephen bellowed. “I do not know why I bother! Nothing I do will ever be good enough for this family.”

“Stephen…” their mother started.

He headed for the door, waving off her concern. “If I cannot see her, I might as well go back out. Do not wait up for me.”

“We never do,” Anthony muttered under his breath, watching his brother’s unsteady retreat.

Their mother made a move to follow Stephen, her face etched with worry, but Anthony gently placed his hand on her arm. “Let him go, Mother,” he urged softly. “There is no point in trying to reason with him when he is in this state.”

Her shoulders drooped in resignation. “You are right, of course.”

Seeing the sadness in her eyes pained him. It was evident that her disappointment in Stephen weighed heavily on her, and Anthony hated that she had been forced to intervene. “I am sorry you had to step in.”

She managed a weak smile, though her eyes remained filled with sorrow. “For a moment, I thought you two might come to blows over it.”

“If that is what it took to keep him away from Emma tonight, I would have done it.”

His mother looked out the window. “When will he learn?”

Anthony hesitated, torn between staying with his mother and honoring his dinner plans with Elodie. But before he could speak, she turned back to him and asked, “Shouldn’t you be leaving for dinner?”

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I can stay?—”

“You will do no such thing!” she interrupted firmly. “You deserve to enjoy yourself, Anthony. This conversation can wait until tomorrow. Or, better yet, never.”

He chuckled despite himself. “I think it is inevitable, Mother.”

“It is the same conversation, over and over. Until Stephen wants to change, there is little that we can do for him.”

Anthony leaned in to kiss her cheek. “You are a good mother. Do not forget that.”

“I love you,” she murmured, patting his hand. “Now, go. It is rude to be late.”

He did not need to be told twice. He slipped out the main door, his steps quick and purposeful as he made his way to Elodie’s townhouse. When he arrived, he knocked, and the butler promptly welcomed him, gesturing towards the drawing room.

Stepping into the warmly lit room, he found Elodie seated on the settee, focused on her embroidery. She wore a pale pink gown, her hair piled high atop her head with two curls framing her face. When she looked up, her face lit up with a smile that made warmth blossom in his chest.

“Anthony, you are here,” she greeted.

He returned her smile, feeling all his worries momentarily melt away. “I am.”

Elodie held up her embroidery. “What do you think?”

Anthony leaned closer, studying the delicate stitching. “It appears to be a very small waistcoat.”

“Precisely,” she replied, pride evident in her tone. “Do you think Lulu will love it?”

Anthony took a seat next to her. “Lulu is a dog. He has no need for clothing.”

Elodie lowered the tiny waistcoat to her lap, undeterred. “Just think of how distinguished Lulu will look now. I should probably make one for Spot as well.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yes, it is! We would not want Spot to grow jealous of Lulu’s fine attire,” she quipped.

Anthony chuckled. “You do realize, of course, that we are talking about dogs?”

Before Elodie could respond, Bennett’s voice came from the doorway. “There is no point in trying to argue with Elodie. Once she has an idea in her head, she is determined to see it through.”

Anthony stood as Bennett and his wife, Delphine, entered the room. He greeted them with a polite nod. “My lady,” he said respectfully.

Delphine waved a hand. “There is no need for such formalities here. From what I hear, you are practically family.”

“That is kind of you to say,” Anthony said.

Delphine turned to Elodie, her eyes twinkling. “That waistcoat is adorable. I have no doubt that Lulu will love it.”

Bennett leaned in, murmuring to his wife, “Let’s not encourage her.”

“I am merely speaking the truth,” Delphine responded.

Elodie beamed with satisfaction. “Thank you, Delphine. I am glad someone understands my vision. Perhaps I should start a line of clothing for the sophisticated dog.”

Bennett raised an eyebrow. “You know Father would never let you start a business.”

“Why not?” Elodie countered. “Delphine runs a business, and she is quite successful.”

Delphine gave Elodie an encouraging smile. “Indeed, I am. And I do not see why you should not pursue it if it brings you joy.”

“But making clothes for dogs…” Bennett began.

“ Sophisticated dogs,” Elodie interrupted with a gleam in her eyes.

“… is not a true business,” Bennett finished.

Winston’s voice came from the doorway. “I think it is a brilliant idea,” he declared as he strode into the room.

Bennett turned to face his brother. “You do?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

Winston nodded, placing a hand over his heart with exaggerated sincerity. “And let it be knownthat I, Winston, wholeheartedly support our sister’s dream.”

“This isn’t a dream. It is a passing whim,” Bennett pointed out.

Elodie rose from her seat. “As much as I disagree with Bennett,” she paused, casting a mock-critical glance over his attire, “and with what he is wearing, he is right. This is not my dream.”

Bennett glanced down at his finely tailored clothing. “What is wrong with what I am wearing?”

Elodie gave a dramatic sigh. “If I have to tell you, you are past hope.”

Delphine patted Bennett’s arm. “I did try to warn you about that waistcoat color.”

“It is jonquil, and I will have you know it is the height of fashion right now,” Bennett defended as he buttoned his jacket.

Lady Dallington swept into the room. “Leave poor Bennett alone. He looks perfectly presentable.”

“Just presentable?” Bennett muttered under his breath.

Turning towards Winston, Lady Dallington asked, “Will Mattie be joining us for dinner this evening?”

Winston’s smile faded slightly. “I’m afraid not. She is not feeling well.”

Lady Dallington’s expression softened. “I will have a tray sent up for her at once,” she said. “Shall we all adjourn to the dining room?”

Anthony stepped forward, offering his arm to Elodie. “May I have the honor of escorting you to the dining room?”

Elodie took his arm. “Did Emma manage to teach the puppies any new tricks?”

He chuckled. “No, but not for a lack of trying.”

“She is a sweet girl,” Elodie remarked.

“That she is,” he agreed, leading her towards the dining room.

As they walked, Anthony felt the weight of the crumpled letter in his jacket pocket, the reminder of its contents casting a faint shadow over his mood. He knew he needed to speak to Elodie about it soon, but he did not want to ruin the evening. Perhaps it would be best if he spoke to Bennett and Winston first. They needed to know about the threat. Together, the three of them could determine the best course of action to ensure Elodie’s safety without alarming her unnecessarily.

Elodie glanced up at him. “Is everything all right?”

He forced a smile to his lips. “Of course. Perfectly.”

“You seem bothered,” she remarked. “Or perhaps you are just overwhelmed by Bennett’s jonquil waistcoat.”

Anthony’s lips curved into a genuine smile. “It is certainly… bright.”

Elodie bobbed her head. “It could probably guide ships safely into port.”

Up ahead, Bennett turned his head and said, “I can hear you, Sister.”

“Good,” Elodie replied, stifling a laugh. “At least the brilliance of your waistcoat has not affected your hearing.”

They stepped into the dining room, and Anthony guided Elodie to her seat. Once she was situated, he sat down next to her. He leaned closer and whispered, “You look lovely this evening.”

Rather than deflect the compliment, her cheeks tinged with the faintest blush. “Thank you.”

He tilted his head. “What? No witty retort?”

Elodie laughed softly. “I cannot risk becoming too predictable, now can I?”

Anthony leaned back, a satisfied grin on his face. “I can assure you, Elodie, you are the least predictable person I know.”

And he meant it.

That was one of the many things he loved about her.

Love ?

The realization struck him. He was not halfway in love with her. No, not anymore. He had fallen for Elodie—deeply, irrevocably. Every laugh, every clever retort, every smile that lit up her face had slowly but surely woven its way into his heart, leaving him with a certainty he could not ignore.

He loved Elodie. And there was no going back.