Page 16 of A Lady’s Mishap (The Lockwood Family #5)

16

E lodie descended the stairs, her white wrapper tied tightly around her. She had planned to sneak down to the kitchen for one of the biscuits the cook had left out for her. It was a small indulgence that she often enjoyed late at night. But as she reached the bottom step, she noticed a soft light glowing from the parlor. Who could possibly be up at this hour?

Her curiosity got the best of her, and she shifted her path towards the parlor. Stopping just outside of the door, she could hear her brothers’ familiar voices. Bennett and Winston seemed to be discussing their recent outing to the opera. It was a conversation that was so utterly dull that she nearly turned back. But she had a few things she wished to say to her brothers, so she decided to make her presence known.

She slipped into the room, and Bennett, sitting comfortably on the settee, was the first to notice her. A grin spread across his face. “Good evening, Sister. To what do we owe this grand honor of you visiting us from on high?”

She crossed her arms, giving them both a stern look. “I am still quite upset at you, both of you.”

“Whatever for?” Bennett asked.

“You know very well what for,” Elodie said. “Anthony told me about the note—the one that threatened to ruin my reputation. And he also told me about your grand decision to keep it from me.”

Not looking the least bit repentant, Bennett responded, “It seems Anthony was rather chatty.”

Winston spoke up, his tone apologetic. “We were only trying to protect you.”

“By hiding things from me?” Elodie retorted.

Bennett just shrugged. “It had to be done.”

With a resigned sigh, Elodie took a seat beside her brothers. “And the worst of it is that Anthony lied to me as well.”

“Do not be too hard on him,” Winston said. “Anthony’s intentions were good. He was only trying to protect you.”

“I do not need anyone’s protection,” Elodie insisted.

Bennett leaned forward, giving her a pointed look. “Yes, you do. Life is not all sunshine and fairy tales. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people, and you need someone to look out for you.”

Elodie frowned. “I think I would like you more if I had a biscuit in my hand.”

“I wager you are only angry because, somewhere inside, you know we were right to keep this from you,” Bennett said.

“Oh? And what part of me knows that? My elbow?” Elodie quipped.

Bennett chuckled. “Perhaps. Go, have your biscuit, and we will discuss this tomorrow.”

“Wonderful. I have something to look forward to, then,” Elodie said, rising with mock enthusiasm. “Though I assure you, I will still be cross with you tomorrow.”

“It is a chance that I am willing to take,” Bennett said with a wry smile.

Turning to Winston, she asked, “And what say you?”

Winston met her gaze earnestly. “What Bennett should be saying is that we are genuinely sorry for keeping this from you.”

Her expression softened. “Thank you, Winston. You have now firmly secured your place as my favorite brother.”

Bennett gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “How dare you, Sister! You take that back!”

“No,” Elodie responded with a smile. “My statement stands. Now, if you will excuse me, it is time for a delicious biscuit… or perhaps two.”

As she turned to leave, Bennett called after her, “Oh, by the way, Father mentioned he would like a word with you.”

Elodie stopped, glancing over her shoulder. “Why did he not say so at dinner?” Bennett shrugged. “I cannot say, but if I had to guess, he is probably going to suggest you move up to the attic.”

“And why, pray tell, would he suggest that?” Elodie asked.

Bennett’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Delphine requires more room for her clothes. I recommended your bedchamber as a suitable wardrobe extension.”

Elodie shook her head. “You did no such thing.”

“We must all make sacrifices to ensure Delphine is happy. And the attic would not be so bad. You could knit some waistcoats for all the rats that are running about,” Bennett said, his smile growing.

Elodie rolled her eyes. “You are impossible to like,” she said. “Does Father even wish to speak to me?”

Reaching for his glass, Bennett responded, “That much is true. But think some more about the attic. It would be the perfect solution… for me, at least.”

With an exasperated sigh, Elodie left the parlor. She noticed a faint light under the study door as she made her way down the corridor. Her father’s late-night work habits were notorious, and it seemed tonight was no exception. She wondered what he wanted to discuss. Had he somehow heard of her mishap with Lord Montrose?

Reaching the study door, she knocked softly. When there was no answer, she slowly turned the handle and slipped inside. Her father sat in his favorite armchair, head drooping, and he was snoring softly. But what truly caught her attention was the black cat curled up contentedly in his lap.

Where had the cat come from? She noticed the open window and realized that the cat must have snuck in while her father dozed off. A surge of panic hit her. Her father absolutely despised cats. She needed to remove it before he woke up.

But as she took a step forward, the floorboard creaked under her weight. Her father stirred, raising his head groggily. “Elodie?” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

“Father,” she began, striving to keep her voice calm, “I do not mean to alarm you, but there is a cat on your lap.”

To her utter amazement, instead of pushing the cat off his lap, her father stroked its soft fur. “It is all right.”

“How can it be all right?” Elodie asked. “You hate cats.”

“I do not hate cats. I have always thought cats were best suited for the barn, where they catch the mice.”

Elodie gestured towards the cat. “Then how do you explain this one? And on your lap, of all places?”

Her father simply smiled, as if this was all perfectly normal. “The first night we arrived in Town, this cat slipped through the window. He has been coming back every night since.”

“And you… you let him?”

“Of course.” He looked almost amused by her astonishment. “I even leave out a little food for him. It is the least I could do.”

Elodie blinked, wondering if she was dreaming.

The cat started purring loudly and her father settled back in his chair. “It is good that you are here. I did need to speak to you about something.”

“Hold on,” Elodie said before she pinched herself. “Ouch.”

Her father gave her a bemused look. “Why did you just pinch yourself?”

“To make sure I was not dreaming,” Elodie replied. “I never thought I would see a day that you would take a cat for a pet.”

“This is not my pet. He just comes in at night to keep me company.”

Elodie went to sit across from him. “It seems like a pet to me.”

“Well, it is not,” her father replied. “And we have more important matters to discuss.”

“But it is so unlike you, Father. Does anyone else know about this… arrangement?”

Her father’s lips twitched. “You are making more of this than it deserves.”

She had an idea. “Can I have a pet, then?” she asked, seizing her chance.

“No.”

Elodie started to protest, but her father’s expression turned serious, interrupting her. “I wanted to speak with you on another matter. Lord Westcott came to see me yesterday. He asked for your hand in marriage.”

“What did you say?” she asked.

Her father gave her an indulgent smile. “I told him that I would leave that choice to you.”

Relief flooded her, and she leaned back. “Thank you. But… what am I to do?”

“That is for you to decide,” her father replied. “Do you even want to marry Lord Westcott?”

Elodie grew quiet. She thought of her time with Lord Westcott. He was kind, an earl, and respectable. But she hardly knew him. A future with him seemed possible, but did she truly want it? In her heart, she knew she wanted more than just a respectable match.

An image of Anthony came to her mind, and she realized something. It was easy with him. She loved spending time with him, and he made her laugh. That is what she wanted in a marriage. Friendship. Love.

Her father’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You are smiling.”

“Am I?” She quickly schooled her expression, trying to conceal her thoughts.

“Were you thinking about Lord Westcott?”

Her smile faded, and she looked away. “No… not exactly.” She did not dare reveal the truth. Then her father would think she had developed feelings for Anthony. Which she had not. She could not. If she developed feelings for Anthony, and they were unrequited, she would risk losing him. And that was a risk she was not willing to take.

“Then who were you thinking about?” her father prodded.

Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands and said decisively, “I do not wish to marry Lord Westcott.”

“Whyever not? He is an earl, and such a marriage would be advantageous for both of you.”

Elodie held her head high. “I want more out of marriage, Father. I want… love. Someone who makes me laugh. I want what you and Mother have.”

He nodded, his gaze warm with understanding. “Very well. But be sure to let him down gently. And be prepared, I doubt he will be the last man to offer for you.”

“You are not angry with me?” Elodie asked, surprised by his response.

“Why would I be?” her father asked. “I only want what is best for you.”

Elodie gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Father.”

He turned his head towards the crackling fire, his expression distant but content. “Marrying your mother was the best decision I ever made. I love her now more than I did on the day we wed.” A wistful smile came to his lips. “I waited my entire life to find someone that I could sit with in silence, feeling wanted and loved, and when it finally happened, I knew why it was worth the wait.”

Her father turned to her, his gaze steady. “That is what I want for you. To marry someone that you love with all of your heart.”

Her heart swelled at his words, but a familiar doubt crept in. “What if I do not find that?”

“You will,” her father asserted. “It is no less than you deserve.”

Elodie was touched by her father’s rare show of emotion. “You do not speak of love often. I thought you would have married me off to Lord Westcott without a second thought.”

Her father gave her an amused look. “Your mother would never permit me to do such a thing.”

“Well, it is a good thing for Mother, then,” Elodie said.

The humor left his expression. “Tell me… when you think of your future, is there someone you think of?”

Anthony .

But Elodie could not say that. “No one comes to mind,” she lied.

Her father did not look convinced. “Well, when that someone does come to mind, hold on to them.”

Rising, Elodie said, “It is late. I should go to bed.”

“Goodnight, my dear,” he replied.

As she left the study, a quiet truth settled over her. She cared for Anthony, far more deeply than she had let herself realize. But this would not do. She could not fall for him. But the more she dwelled on it, the more it did not seem like such a terrible idea, after all.

Anthony sat at the head of the long, rectangular dining table, the morning light filtering softly through the windows as he attempted to read the newssheets. But his mind wandered, mostly back to Elodie and how she had looked hurt when she learned of the note he had kept from her. He’d had the most restless night between dwelling on Elodie and his brother’s gambling debts. The only bright spot in the morning was the surprise he had arranged for Elodie, which he hoped would arrive soon.

The door swung open and Stephen staggered into the room, looking all the worse for wear. “Good morning, Brother,” he mumbled.

Anthony offered a curt nod. “Good morning.”

Stephen winced, placing a hand on his forehead. “Must you be so loud? I am a little bottle-weary this morning.”

“A little?” Anthony questioned, folding his newssheets and regarding his brother with a raised brow.

Stephen stopped by a chair and waited expectantly for the footman to pull it out for him. “I am in no mood for your sense of humor today,” he muttered, settling into his seat. “The most humiliating thing happened last night.”

“I am almost afraid to ask, but do tell?”

Reaching for a glass of water, Stephen replied, “My favorite gambling establishment refused me entry. Me? Can you imagine such an insult?”

“I can, actually,” Anthony said dryly. “By any chance, was this gambling hall in Hampstead?”

“It was, yes. But I have no desire to ever return there after such treatment.”

Setting aside the newssheets, Anthony decided to drop the news he had been withholding. “Mr. Kingsley visited me last night.”

Stephen’s brow knit together. “What did that bloke want?” he asked, casting an impatient look towards the footman. “I need coffee. Immediately.”

As the footman hurried off to fulfill his demand, Anthony replied, “Mr. Kingsley informed me that you have racked up an impressive debt of nearly eleven thousand pounds.”

Stephen waved a hand, dismissing the matter. “I’ve had a bit of bad luck lately. Things will turn around.”

Anthony fixed him with a hard look. “Mr. Kingsley made it quite clear. If you don’t pay, he will throw you into debtor’s prison.”

His brother scoffed, entirely unconcerned. “A mere scare tactic. It would be terrible for business if they tossed the son of an earl into prison.”

“Nevertheless, you do owe them a staggering sum of money, and they intend to collect.”

Stephen shrugged. “Then settle it and be done with it.”

Anthony shook his head. “Not this time.”

“Pardon?”

Keeping his gaze steady, Anthony responded, “There is talk of you owing as much as nineteen thousand pounds. That is an amount that could drain the coffers. Most of our funds are invested in land and other assets. There is no extra to spare.”

Stephen’s face twisted in irritation. “You would truly let your own brother be sent to prison over this?”

“I have responsibilities beyond you, Stephen,” Anthony said, keeping his tone calm though anger simmered beneath. “I have hundreds of tenants and staff relying on me.”

His brother’s voice grew louder. “You speak of duty, yet you would abandon your own brother. You are nothing but a hypocrite!”

Unruffled, Anthony leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps, but I am also the one trying to secure the future of our family’s estate and honor.”

“What would Father or Mother say about this?” Stephen demanded, his nostrils flaring.

“That does not matter,” Anthony said. “You are five and twenty years old and have received the finest education. What have you done with your life?”

“What can I do with my life?” Stephen asked. “I am the spare. My only purpose is to ensure Father has an heir if something happens to you.”

Anthony glanced heavenward. “You are your own person. It is perfectly acceptable for you to have a profession.”

“I do not want to be a vicar or a barrister.”

“There are other professions you could have,” Anthony said.

A footman stepped into the room and placed a cup in front of Stephen. He reached down and took a sip. “Blast it!” he shouted. “It is too hot. Tell the cook that she is incompetent at best.”

Anthony turned towards the footman. “Do not tell Mrs. Franks that.”

Placing the cup down, Stephen said, “I do not know why you protect Mrs. Franks. You should have hired a French cook by now.”

“Mrs. Franks has been our cook since we were young.”

“That does not mean she is any good,” Stephen countered.

Anthony pushed back his chair and rose. “This conversation is over. I have work that I need to see to.”

“But what about me?” Stephen asked.

“What about you?”

Stephen looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. “You would truly let me rot in prison because you wish to lord over me?”

Anthony lifted his brow. “I am not lording over you. There are consequences to your actions and it is time that you learned that.”

“Father will not let you do this to me,” Stephen asserted.

“Perhaps not. But I am responsible for the purse strings now.”

Stephen shoved back his chair and moved to stand in front of Anthony. “What of my inheritance?”

“What of it?” Anthony asked, ignoring his brother’s foul breath. “You spent that ages ago.”

“I did not. You must have kept it for yourself,” Stephen seethed.

Anthony pursed his lips together. “I have kept a record of your spending. You have been a drain on our finances for far too long.”

“You think you are so much better than I am, do you not?” Stephen asked.

Anthony gave a tired sigh. “Why do you insist on asking that question over and over?”

Stephen inched closer, a sneer on his lips. “You are the golden boy, the heir. You have been given everything and I have been given your crumbs.”

“You have been given plenty of opportunities, and you have squandered every single one.”

At that moment, Percy stepped into the dining room and announced, “My lord, it has arrived.”

Stephen glanced over his shoulder at Percy. “What has arrived?”

Anthony looked past his brother, addressing the butler. “Wonderful. Is it in the gardens?”

Percy nodded. “Yes, my lord. And I took the liberty of attaching the bow as requested.”

Stephen gave him a bemused look. “What exactly did you buy, Brother?”

“Something for Elodie,” Anthony said. “Now, if you will excuse me…”

Stephen’s face twisted with anger. “You claim we have no funds to spare, yet you are lavishing gifts on Elodie?”

“It is a modest token of my affection, and a far cry from the sum you owe.”

Before Stephen could launch into another tirade, Anthony excused himself and made his way to the gardens. There, sporting a red bow on its mane, was a chestnut miniature horse. It was even more perfect than he had imagined. Elodie would be thrilled.

The groom approached, offering the rope, but Anthony held up his hand. “Would you mind stepping out of sight for a moment? I want to surprise Lady Elodie myself.”

“Yes, my lord,” the groom said, leading the horse to a more concealed spot.

Anthony reached down, gathering a few small pebbles, and aimed for Elodie’s window. The first rock missed. So did the second. He had not realized how difficult it would be to hit a window on the second level. Finally, on the third attempt, the pebble tapped against the glass.

After a long moment, Elodie opened her window and looked out at him in confusion. “Did you just throw a rock at my window?”

“I did,” he replied, unable to suppress a grin. “I was hoping you might join me in the gardens.”

Elodie frowned. “Did you forget that I am still angry with you?”

“I do recall that,” Anthony said, rocking back on his heels. “But I think I have something here that might change your mind.”

Her eyes roamed over the gardens. “And what is that? There is nothing there with you.”

“Ah, but there is,” Anthony insisted. “You will just have to trust me on this one.”

Elodie held his gaze for a long moment before sighing and disappearing from the window. A few moments later, she emerged from her townhouse in a pale blue gown, her expression curious yet guarded. “All right. I am here. What is it you wanted to show me?”

Anthony smiled. “Thank you for coming, even though I know you are still upset with me.”

“ Very upset,” she corrected.

“Noted,” he replied, trying to contain his excitement. “I thought about what I could do to show you how truly sorry I am, and I believe I have found just the thing.” He extended his hand towards the side of the gardens where the groom had led the horse.

Nothing happened.

Elodie gave him a puzzled look. “I am not seeing anything.”

Anthony held up a finger. “Wait here.” He walked briskly to the side of the townhouse and cleared his throat, drawing the groom’s attention away from the horse.

“My apologies, my lord,” the groom said sheepishly.

Anthony reached for the rope. “No harm done.”

As he rounded the corner back to Elodie, he saw her eyes widen, her expression lighting up with joy. She practically danced in place as she spotted the miniature horse.

“It is a miniature horse!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to meet them.

“It is, and it is yours,” Anthony said, extending her the rope.

Elodie’s mouth dropped open. “You are giving me a miniature horse?”

“I am. Do you like it?”

Without warning, Elodie threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “I love it so much!” she exclaimed, her voice full of emotion.

He wrapped his arms around her in return, breathing in the warmth of the moment. “I am glad.”

She took a step back, eyes sparking with mirth. “I was planning to make you my sworn nemesis after that note incident, but I think you have officially redeemed yourself.”

“I do want to apologize again for not telling you,” Anthony said. “It was wrong of me to do so.”

“Yes, you should have. But I know you meant well. Just do not let it happen again.”

He performed a small bow. “I can agree to that.”

“Good,” Elodie said, turning back to her horse. “What should I call him?”

“I thought you had already decided that you would call him Henry.”

Elodie’s face grew thoughtful as she looked at the horse. After a moment, she said, “I did, but I think I shall call him Lord Henry.”

“Why ‘Lord’?” Anthony asked.

Gesturing towards the horse, Elodie replied, “Just look at him. He has the air of a proper lord.”

“I do not think miniature horses can be proper.”

“It is just one of the many things that we can agree to disagree on,” Elodie joked.

Anthony chuckled. “I am pleased that you like Lord Henry.”

Elodie laughed, stroking Lord Henry’s mane. “I don’t just like him, Anthony. I adore him.” Her expression grew serious as she looked up at him. “Thank you, truly. This gift means the world to me.”

He held her gaze, feeling his heart swell with unspoken words. “You are very welcome, Elodie. You must know all I want is for you to be happy.”

A bright smile came to her face. “I am happy,” she started, then hesitated, glancing at the miniature horse, “but I must admit I am much happier with Lord Henry.”

“Then my work here is done,” he said, pretending to tip an imaginary hat.

A throat cleared from behind them, and they turned to see Bennett regarding them with a curious expression. “What is this?” he asked, his brow raised.

Elodie turned to face Bennett. “This, Brother, is a miniature horse,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “It is smaller than a regular horse, but it is still a horse.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Bennett replied with a huff. “But what is it doing in Anthony’s gardens?”

“Anthony was kind enough to gift Lord Henry to me,” Elodie explained.

“Did he, now?” Bennett asked, crossing his arms. “Well, your ‘gift’ has left a mess on Anthony’s ground. Perhaps he would be better suited to the stables.”

Anthony held his hand out. “Allow me, my lady.”

Elodie relinquished the rope. “Thank you, kind sir.” She turned back to the horse, giving Lord Henry a parting pat on his neck. “I will come later to visit you.”

As she disappeared back inside, Bennett stood there, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “I see exactly what you are doing.”

“And what might that be?” Anthony asked.

Bennett took a step closer to him. “Let us just say it would be far less costly—and considerably easier—if you simply told her how you felt.”

Anthony held his gaze, his expression guarded. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Of course you do,” Bennett said. “And it is insulting for you to pretend otherwise.”

Fearing Bennett would press him further, Anthony cleared his throat and held up the rope. “I should get Lord Henry settled in the stables.”

“While you are there, perhaps you can gather a bit of courage,” Bennett called after him, his voice laced with humor.

Anthony moved towards the stables, grateful for the reprieve from Bennett’s keen eyes. His friend wasn’t wrong. He needed the courage to tell Elodie how he felt. But what if his feelings were not reciprocated? Would he lose her?

And that fear is what kept him quiet.