Page 18 of A Lady’s Mishap (The Lockwood Family #5)

18

E lodie sat at her dressing table as she hummed the melody of the piece she was set to perform tonight at the soiree. The very thought of standing before a crowd, playing the pianoforte under their critical gazes, made her stomach churn. How she hated feeling like a performing monkey for the amusement of Society.

Behind her, Molly took a step back, a satisfied smile on her face. “Is your hair to your liking, my lady?”

Elodie turned her head to examine the elegant coiffure in the mirror. “Well done, Molly,” she praised.

“Thank you. Shall we dress you now?”

Instead of answering directly, Elodie spun in her chair and fixed Molly with a mischievous look. “Grab a trunk and fill it with my gowns. If we leave now, we can escape unnoticed.”

Molly laughed, playing along. “And where would we go?”

“To the woodlands,” Elodie replied with a dramatic flair. “We will learn to live off the land and our friends will be the charming creatures.”

“And where would we live in this idyllic woodland existence?”

Elodie tapped a finger to her chin, feigning deep thought. “We will build a cottage by the river and have picturesque views. It will be perfect.”

Molly’s smile grew. “Do you know how to build a cottage?”

“Well, no, but we can figure it out.”

Shaking her head, Molly crossed the room and picked up the pale pink gown with its delicate net overlay from the bed. “As tempting as that sounds, I think it would be best if we stay here. Besides, if we left, we could not take Lord Henry with us, and I know how much you adore that horse.”

Elodie sighed, her shoulders slumping. “You are right, of course. But I truly do not want to perform tonight. Everyone will be watching me… judging me.”

“You are the diamond of the Season—” Molly began.

Elodie interrupted her with an exasperated groan. “Why does everyone insist on reminding me of that? I am nothing special.”

“The queen seemed to think otherwise,” Molly pointed out. “You made her laugh, which was a feat no other debutante has managed.”

Elodie made a face. “Why must I be so likable?”

“What a dreadful burden you must bear,” Molly teased.

The door opened and her mother entered the room. She gave her a disapproving shake of her head. “Why are you not dressed, Child? We are leaving soon.”

“Molly and I have decided that we are going to run away to the woodlands and befriend the creatures there,” Elodie said with mock seriousness.

Her mother barely reacted, smoothing a hand over her skirts. “You may do so after the soiree. Not before.”

“You have no objections?” Elodie asked.

“I have many, but we do not have time to debate them. You need to look your best tonight.”

Elodie rose and retrieved the gown from Molly. She slipped it on while Molly began the painstaking task of fastening the countless buttons down the back.

Her mother nodded in approval. “That gown is perfect for this evening. You will be the envy of the ton .”

“Can I bring Lord Henry with me?” Elodie asked.

“Absolutely not!”

Elodie shrugged, undeterred. “It was worth a try. Perhaps I will teach Lord Henry how to play the pianoforte.”

“Horses cannot play the pianoforte,” her mother replied.

“No, but miniature horses might. They have smaller hooves. I wonder why no one has tried it before.”

Her mother pressed her lips together. “It might be best if you avoid speaking to people this evening.”

“That is my goal every time I attend a social event.”

Molly fastened the last button and stepped back. “Will there be anything else, my lady?”

“No, thank you.” Elodie walked back to her dressing table and picked up her reticule. “I am bringing my bent nail this evening.”

“Dare I ask why?” her mother asked.

“In case someone abducts me.”

Her mother looked unimpressed. “And why would anyone abduct you?”

“It has happened before,” Elodie replied matter-of-factly.

Walking over to the door, her mother opened it. “I will not argue with you, but it is a foolish idea.”

Elodie followed her mother into the corridor and they made their way down to the entry hall, where Winston and Mattie were waiting.

Mattie’s eyes lit up when she saw Elodie. “You look lovely, Elodie.”

“Thank you,” Elodie said.

Winston gave his sister a pat on her shoulder. “Do try not to embarrass the family this evening.”

Elodie shot him a dry look. “Thank you for that vote of confidence. Any other words of advice you wish to share before we leave?”

“Do not trip on the way to the pianoforte,” Winston quipped, withdrawing his hand.

Mattie swiped her hand at Winston’s sleeve. “Leave your sister alone. You know she does not like to perform in front of people.”

“I do not,” Elodie agreed. “Which is why I am puzzled as to why Mother accepted the invitation on my behalf.”

“It is expected of you,” her mother said.

“You know who does not expect anything from me? Woodland creatures,” Elodie declared with a flourish of her hand.

Just then, White entered the hall and bowed slightly. “The coaches are out front.”

“Thank you, White,” Lady Dallington acknowledged, ushering them towards the door.

Elodie glanced back at the stairs. “Should we not wait for Bennett and Delphine?”

“They are running late. They will arrive as soon as they can,” her mother shared.

“I would be happy to wait for them—” Elodie attempted.

Her mother placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “You need to be on time.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you have no husband,” her mother said. “Once you are married, you can arrive as late as you please.”

Elodie smirked as they stepped outside. “You may have just convinced me of the benefits of marriage.”

As they stepped inside the coach, Elodie moved to sit beside her mother on the bench, while Winston and Mattie took their seats across from them.

The coach jerked forward, the cobblestones below causing a mild jostle. Mattie leaned forward, her expression curious. “What piece will you be performing tonight?”

“It is one of Melody’s compositions,” Elodie replied. “It is one of my favorites. I only wish she were here to accompany me.”

Her mother gave her a light nudge on the shoulder. “Well, Melody has a husband now, and you, my dear, are still husbandless.”

“Thank you for the reminder… again,” Elodie muttered under her breath. “Where is Father?”

Her mother sighed. “He is still at Parliament. I do believe that man will work himself into an early grave.”

Elodie turned her attention towards the window, where the fading light of day danced on the passing buildings. The streets of London bustled with activity, but her mind was miles away, consumed by her own dread. What if she stumbled over the notes tonight? Despite countless hours of practice, she had never performed this piece before an audience.

How she wished that Melody were here. Her sister had a knack for soothing her nerves, for reminding her what truly mattered. But tonight, Elodie would have to manage on her own.

The coach came to a halt in front of Mrs. Fletcher’s grand townhouse. Winston stepped out first, offering his hand to assist the ladies. Elodie accepted his help, though as soon as her feet touched the pavement, she withdrew her hand.

She glanced up at the townhouse, its pristine white facade glowing softly in the evening light. The crowd outside was buzzing with excitement. Elodie took a deep, steadying breath. I can do this.

Inside, the entry hall gleamed with polished black and white marble floors and soaring white columns that gave the space a sense of grandeur. Elodie admired it briefly, but she became so lost in thought that she collided with the gentleman in front of her.

Startled, she stepped back quickly. “My apologies—” Her words caught in her throat when Lord Westcott turned to face her.

His steady hand reached out to her. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Elodie stammered. “I was just distracted. I did not mean to run into the back of you.”

“No harm done,” he said, his expression composed, though his tone carried a gravity that was hard to ignore.

Before Elodie could say more, Lady Eugenie appeared at her brother’s side. “I am so relieved that you are here. Are you performing tonight?”

“I am,” Elodie confirmed.

Placing a hand to cover her mouth, Lady Eugenie lowered her voice. “My brother is vexed with me because I refuse to play tonight.”

Elodie gave her a rueful smile. “I wish I had that choice.”

Lady Eugenie’s expression softened as she lowered her hand. “I am sure you will play spectacularly.”

She managed a small laugh. “Let’s hope so. I have been given strict instructions not to embarrass the family tonight.”

As she spoke, Elodie was very aware of Lord Westcott’s gaze lingering on her. She wished they could return to the way it was before he offered for her. Now their conversation felt awkward and strained.

Lord Westcott cleared his throat. “If you will excuse me, I need to secure our seats for the performance.”

Lady Eugenie watched him walk off before saying, “My brother informed me that you turned down his offer of marriage.”

Elodie winced. “I did and I am sorry if?—”

Lady Eugenie cut her off with a shake of her head. “Do not apologize. It was for the best. Do not get me wrong, I would have loved for you to become my sister, but my brother approached it all wrong. He was looking for a wife with logic, not his heart.”

Elodie felt a wave of relief wash over her. “I was worried you would be upset with me.”

“Upset?” Lady Eugenie repeated. “Heavens, no. Why would you even think such a thing?”

Before she could reply, her mother tapped her on the shoulder. “We should take our seats, Dear.”

“Yes, Mother,” Elodie said, offering Lady Eugenie a brief smile before following her mother.

As they walked towards the rows of neatly arranged chairs, Elodie’s gaze swept the room. She spotted Winston speaking with Stephen near the back. If Stephen was here, could Anthony also be in attendance? Her heart gave a small, hopeful flutter, but as her eyes scanned the crowd, she felt a stab of disappointment when she did not see him.

Why should it matter if he was here tonight? It shouldn’t. But, as much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, it did.

Her mother leaned closer to her, her voice low. “Who are you looking for?”

“No one,” she lied.

Her mother arched a skeptical brow but said nothing, much to Elodie’s relief. They found their seats near the front, and as Elodie sat down, a small part of her could not help but hope for a glimpse of Anthony before the evening was through.

The coach lurched to a halt outside Mrs. Fletcher’s grand townhouse, and Anthony wasted no time. He pushed the door open before the footman could reach it and stepped out onto the pavement, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. The evening air was crisp, but he barely noticed as he ascended the steps to the main door.

The butler promptly opened the door, and he stepped inside. The strains of a pianoforte drifted through the entry hall, a beautiful melody that drew Anthony forward. He followed the music and found a seat near the back of the room just as the piece concluded.

The applause was polite but brief, and then the tall, long-faced Mrs. Fletcher stepped forward, her hands clasped primly in front of her. “And now, we have the privilege of hearing from Lady Elodie,” she announced, her voice carrying easily over the murmurs.

Anthony straightened, his eyes fixed on Elodie as she rose from her seat. Her movements were graceful but hesitant, and he could sense her unease. He knew how much she dreaded performing in front of an audience, and he wished there was some way to ease her nerves, to offer her the quiet reassurance he knew she needed.

As she walked towards the pianoforte, her eyes swept over the room and, for a fleeting moment, landed on him. Something flickered in her expression. Was it relief? Hope? Whatever it was, Anthony’s breath caught as Elodie captured his soul with her gaze. He winked, and her lips curved into a brief smile before she turned to the pianoforte.

Elodie sat on the bench and rested her hands lightly on the keys. When she began to play, the room seemed to hold its breath. Anthony had heard her play many times before, but tonight, there was something different, something extraordinary. Her fingers moved with precision and passion, pouring life into the melody in a way that stirred something deep in him.

He leaned forward, sitting on the very edge of his seat, his attention wholly captured. At first, he felt her tension as though it were his own, silently willing her to hit every note perfectly. But as the music flowed, he relaxed, letting the sound wash over him. By the time she struck the final chord, he realized his worry had been for nothing. Elodie’s performance had been flawless.

The room erupted into applause, and Anthony joined in, though he noted how uncomfortable Elodie seemed with the attention. She hurried back to her seat, and Lady Dallington leaned over to whisper something to her. Judging by her mother’s pleased expression, it was undoubtedly praise.

Mrs. Fletcher rose once more, her voice cheerful. “Thank you to all of tonight’s performers. That concludes the musical portion of the evening.”

As the guests began to shift and mingle, Anthony stood quickly. He wanted to reach Elodie, to congratulate her, to speak to her. But before he could make his way through the room, a group of gentlemen blocked his path to her, their idle chatter forming an impenetrable wall. Frustrated, Anthony accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server, taking a small sip as he waited for an opening. He had no patience for waiting, but for now, it was all he could do.

Lord Westcott joined him. “Lady Elodie played exquisitely, did she not?”

“She did,” he confirmed, glancing briefly towards her. She was smiling at the crowd of gentlemen, but it did not quite reach her eyes.

Lowering his voice, Lord Westcott asked, “How did the drop-off go?”

Anthony met his gaze, his tone matching the seriousness of the question. “I followed the instructions precisely. The sack was left in the alleyway. Now, we wait.”

“Do you trust this Bow Street Runner?”

“I do,” Anthony said with conviction. “Grady knows what he is doing.”

Lord Westcott sighed, his composure briefly giving way to worry. “There is so much at stake. I do not know what I would do if Eugenie’s reputation were ruined. She has already endured so much with the loss of our parents. I cannot bear the thought of her facing more pain.”

“You are a good brother.”

“It depends on the day, I’m afraid,” Lord Westcott retorted.

Before the conversation could continue, Stephen appeared, his nearly empty glass dangling precariously from his fingers. “Brother, you were late,” he drawled, his tone laced with mockery. “I was worried you would miss Elodie’s performance.”

Anthony did not have time for his brother. Not now. “I had an errand I had to attend to.”

“An errand more important than Elodie? Shocking,” Stephen stated.

He frowned. “I thought you planned to be in the cards room.”

“I am on my way,” Stephen said, downing the last of his champagne. “Do not wait up.”

“I never do.”

As Stephen sauntered away, Lord Westcott’s expression turned grim. “I have heard rumors about your brother’s gambling debts.”

“They are all true,” Anthony admitted. “It is only a matter of time before his creditors catch up with him and he ends up in debtor’s prison.”

“Good. A stint in prison might do him some good,” Lord Westcott said. “At least the mothers of young ladies will sleep easier.”

Anthony shook his head. “My brother is a blackguard.”

“That is putting it politely,” Lord Westcott muttered. “How is your father? I heard he came into Town.”

“He did, and he is doing much better than expected. I visit him often.”

A shadow passed over Lord Westcott’s face, his expression unreadable. “It is difficult watching your father wither away in front of you.”

“It is,” Anthony said. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to bring up painful memories?—”

His friend raised a hand to stop him. “The memories are painful, but they are mine. And I treasure them.”

Anthony placed a comforting hand on Lord Westcott’s shoulder. “I am glad that you have your sister.”

Lord Westcott’s voice was low, almost a whisper. “She is lucky to be alive after her accident.” He paused. “Forgive me. I need a moment alone.”

Anthony watched as Lord Westcott walked away, his posture heavy with unspoken burdens. He wished there was a way to help the man, but he found himself at a loss. Some pain could not be eased with words alone.

Just then, movement in the crowd caught his attention. Elodie emerged from a horde of gentlemen, her steps hurried and her expression one of mild exasperation. She came to a stop in front of him, her voice low as she murmured, “Goodness, they are relentless.”

A server passed with a tray of champagne, and Elodie swiftly took a glass. She raised it to her lips for a tentative sip, only to grimace. “This is awful,” she declared, eyeing the glass.

“It is an acquired taste,” Anthony offered.

“Well, I do not think I will be acquiring it anytime soon,” Elodie said, placing the glass on a nearby table. “I think I will stick to lemonade.”

Anthony’s gaze shifted to the group of gentlemen still hovering nearby, their eyes fixed on Elodie as though waiting for another opportunity to approach. He leaned closer and suggested, “Shall we take a tour of the gardens?”

With a glance over her shoulder, Elodie replied, “That would be much more pleasurable than having to endure polite conversation with those nick-ninnies.”

Anthony offered his arm with a faint smile. “They are just waiting for their chance to win your affection. Is that not a good thing?”

“They are only interested in me because I am the diamond,” Elodie replied, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm.

“I do think you are selling yourself short,” Anthony said as they made their way towards the open French doors leading to the gardens.

“You are kind, but I want to be loved for who I am, not because I am the diamond of the Season,” she admitted.

The gardens were softly lit by lanterns, their glow casting shadows across the pathways. When they reached the iron railing overlooking the manicured hedges below, Anthony dropped his arm and looked up at the stars sparkling in the clear night sky. He had a plan, one that he had just cultivated, to win Elodie over. He just hoped he knew Elodie as well as he believed he did.

“I am glad that we have a moment to speak alone,” Anthony began.

She grinned, glancing around at the other couples milling about. “Well, not entirely alone. There are plenty of people out here.”

“True, but none of them are listening to our conversation.” Anthony hesitated as he turned to face her. “I wanted you to know that I am done trying to win you over.”

Her smile faltered. “I beg your pardon?”

This was it. If his plan did not work, he could lose Elodie. But he could not keep going on as he had been, pining after her without her knowing.

“I care for you,” Anthony confessed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “More than I probably should. It has always been that way. But it is clear to me now that you do not feel the same.”

Elodie opened her mouth to speak, but Anthony held up a hand to stop her. “Please, you do not need to say anything. I think it is best if we remain friends.”

Before she could reply, a mocking voice interrupted them. “Look at what the rubbish dragged in.”

Anthony stiffened, stepping protectively in front of Elodie as Lord Montrose sauntered towards them, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “What do you want, Montrose?”

Lord Montrose’s gaze flickered to Elodie, his tone dripping with false charm. “Nothing but the pleasure of Lady Elodie’s company.” He extended a hand towards her. “Would you care to take a stroll with me, my lady?”

“Absolutely not!” Anthony exclaimed.

Lord Montrose’s smile widened, clearly enjoying himself. “I do believe the young lady can speak for herself.”

Elodie stepped out from behind Anthony. “I would rather chew on a boot than spend time in your company.”

Lord Montrose raised an eyebrow. “How very specific. Do you often chew on boots?”

Anthony’s patience snapped. “Lady Elodie is not interested in your company. Move along.”

Lord Montrose’s expression darkened as he turned his attention to Anthony. “And what do you think would happen if certain rumors about Lady Elodie’s actions in the gardens were to spread? She would be ruined. Who would want her then?”

“I would,” Anthony said firmly.

Lord Montrose took a threatening step closer, his sneer replacing his smug smile. “You? You are not man enough for Elodie!”

“But you are?” Anthony shot back.

Elodie placed a hand on her hip. “Why are you two speaking about me as if I am not standing right here?”

Lord Montrose reached out towards her, but Anthony slapped his hand away. “Do not touch her.”

“You will pay for that,” Lord Montrose growled.

Anthony’s gaze remained unyielding. “Leave, Montrose. Go slither back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

With a snarl, Lord Montrose swung his fist, landing a blow to Anthony’s jaw. Anthony staggered back, bringing a hand to his reddening face.

“That was for the other night,” Lord Montrose declared.

Before Anthony could respond, Elodie stepped forward, brandishing a rusty, bent nail from her reticule. “Leave now, or I will show you exactly what this nail can do.”

Lord Montrose chuckled. “That is adorable, my dear.”

“Come closer, and I will demonstrate how adorable it truly is,” Elodie said, squaring her shoulders.

Putting his hands up in surrender, Lord Montrose responded, “Good evening, my lady. Belview.” He turned and strode off into the shadows.

Elodie spun to face Anthony, her expression filled with concern. “Are you all right?”

“I will live,” Anthony said, rubbing his red jaw.

“Lord Montrose is awful. Just awful.”

“I will not disagree with you there,” Anthony said. He gestured to the nail in her hand. “I appreciate what you did, but it truly was not necessary. I could have handled him.”

“I know,” Elodie said, “but we were already drawing attention. I thought it best to end it quickly.”

Anthony smiled faintly. “Is that the infamous nail?”

Her expression grew thoughtful. “Yes, it is the nail I found when Melody and I were abducted. I kept it to remind me of that night.”

“Is that a night you want to remember?”

“It is,” Elodie said after a pause. “It was the night I learned to truly appreciate my sister.”

Just then, Winston stepped out onto the veranda with Mattie on his arm. “There you are,” he said with relief in his voice. “Montrose is weaving quite a tale about how he beat Anthony to a pulp.”

“He did no such thing,” Anthony declared.

“I believe you,” Winston said, “but it would be wise to return inside so people can see Montrose is, once again, spewing lies.”

Anthony offered Elodie his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

She smiled, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm. “We shall.”