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

5

A s Anthony led Elodie towards the gardens, she found herself half-wishing she had taken a few grapes for the conversation. She was, after all, hungry. She had been on her way to breakfast when she had spotted Anthony standing out on the pavement. He looked troubled, his expression distant, and for some inexplicable reason, she could not just walk away. And so, when she saw the bowl of grapes, an impulsive plan had formed in her mind. It wasn’t her finest idea, but it had worked. She had gotten his attention.

Anthony cleared his throat, breaking the silence between them. “How are you faring this morning?”

Elodie glanced up at him, the corners of her mouth quirking. “I am hungry,” she admitted.

“Shall I leave so you can have your meal?”

“No, it is all right. I would prefer if you would just tell me what is wrong so I can help you fix it.”

“Why do you suppose it is something that can be easily fixed?” he asked, sounding skeptical.

Elodie shrugged. “Sometimes problems seem bigger in our minds than they truly are. I can help with that.”

Anthony didn’t look entirely convinced. “Yet you were the one who decided to throw grapes at me on the pavement.”

“It wasn’t my finest plan,” Elodie admitted with a grin. “But truthfully, I have wanted to hit you with something for ages, and the grapes were the closest thing at hand.”

A smile came to Anthony’s lips. “You are a minx.”

Elodie laughed. “You can call me names all morning, but it won’t distract me from the fact that you are troubled. So, what is it? Is it your brother again?”

His smile faded. “It is. He still has not met his daughter.”

“Perhaps it is too overwhelming for him.”

Anthony stopped walking, turning to face her with a furrowed brow. “You are taking his side now?”

“I am not taking anyone’s side. I am simply pointing out that Stephen has never been particularly adept at handling unexpected news.”

“That is true,” Anthony conceded, though frustration lingered in his voice, “but it is his daughter.”

Elodie gestured towards a nearby bench. “Shall we sit?”

“If you don’t mind.”

As she settled onto the bench, she looked at him thoughtfully. “What is it you want from Stephen, truly? What is it you expect him to do?”

Anthony sank onto the bench beside her, his posture tense. “I want him to be responsible.”

“Like you?”

He shook his head. “No, not like me. I want him to be held accountable for his actions. Up until now, he has lived without consequences, always skirting around responsibility.”

Elodie shifted slightly, turning more towards him. “You can’t change Stephen. You can only change how you react to him.”

“You are terrible at giving advice,” he muttered.

“On the contrary, I think I am rather brilliant at it,” Elodie said, holding back a grin.

He gave her a look, half-skeptical, half-amused. “Oh? Do enlighten me.”

Elodie leaned back slightly. “I once thought that if I acted more like Melody, life would be easier. She followed the rules, and for a time, I thought if I did the same, I would have no troubles at all. But I was wrong. I was just pretending, fooling myself into thinking that her life was perfect because she did everything right.”

“You? Pretend to be Melody? I would have liked to have seen that.”

Elodie waved a hand dismissively. “It was very short-lived. I still had to act like a performing monkey and bite my tongue at every turn. And let me tell you, that is not something I am particularly skilled at.”

Anthony chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Biting your tongue? That hardly seems like you.”

“Precisely,” Elodie replied. “You can’t force yourself—or anyone else, for that matter—to be someone they are not. Stephen has to make his own mistakes. It is his life, and he can live it however he sees fit.”

He stared at her, his eyes holding uncertainty. “So I am supposed to give up on him?”

Elodie met his gaze steadily. “No, not give up. Trust him.”

“Trust?” Anthony scoffed. “Stephen has given me no reason to trust him. He is a rake who squanders money. My money!”

She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I just think?—”

But before she could finish, Anthony abruptly rose to his feet, cutting her off. “No, you do not get to voice your opinion on this. You know nothing about what I have had to endure because of my brother.”

Elodie rose. “Anthony?—”

He interrupted again. “Why should I take advice from you? Your life is perfect. You don’t understand.”

“Perfect?” Elodie asked, rearing back. “My life is far from perfect.”

Anthony ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, yes, your biggest concerns are what gown to wear each day and what color ribbons to put in your hair.”

Elodie frowned. “You are angry.”

“Of course, I am angry!” Anthony shouted. “My brother is a blackguard and now my father is traveling to see his granddaughter. The trip might kill him. But does Stephen care? No. He is too busy being reckless and irresponsible.”

“I’m sorry,” Elodie said, feeling helpless as she watched him struggle with the weight of his emotions. She wanted to comfort him, to say the right thing, but nothing she could think of seemed adequate.

Anthony turned his back to her, but not before she caught a glimpse of his eyes brimming with unshed tears. His voice, when he spoke again, was softer, filled with grief. “My father is dying, Elodie. And there is nothing I can do to stop it.”

Her heart ached for Anthony. The raw pain in his voice, the vulnerability he rarely showed, stirred something deep within her. Without thinking, Elodie stepped forward and gently placed her hand on his back. It was a small gesture, but it was all she had to offer. She wanted to let him know he was not alone in his sorrows.

After a long moment, Elodie broke the silence, her voice light as she attempted to bring some levity back to the moment. “Would you like me to fetch some grapes for you? I find they are excellent for when one is brooding,” she said while offering a soft smile.

Anthony turned towards her, a hint of a smile on his lips. “No, thank you.”

“What can I say to make you feel better?”

His gaze softened. “Just you being here is enough.”

“I can’t stay long, though,” Elodie said. “I need adequate sustenance if I am expected to save you from all of life’s troubles.”

As she uttered her words, the sound of a child’s voice drifted up from beyond the gardens’ hedges.

Anthony must have heard it too because he asked, “Would you like to meet my niece, Emma?”

“Not yet,” Elodie said as she went to stand up on the bench to peer over the hedges. Her eyes roamed over Anthony’s gardens until they landed on a small, dark-haired girl walking along a path. “She is much smaller than I imagined.”

Anthony joined her, standing beside her on the bench, his gaze following Elodie’s. “She is only four.”

“She looks like a miniature version of Stephen,” Elodie remarked. “I am not quite sure if that is a blessing or a curse.”

“Let us hope she grows out of that,” Anthony joked.

Elodie hopped down from the bench. “I am ready to meet her now. Although, I must confess, I have not spent much time around children. I hope I do not say the wrong thing.”

Anthony smirked. “I have no doubt you will.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” she retorted.

Extending his arm, Anthony said, “Allow me to escort you to my gardens.”

Elodie gave his arm a dismissive glance. “I am more than perfectly capable of walking a hundred feet on my own.”

“I am only trying to be a gentleman.”

“Well, you can stop,” Elodie teased, brushing past him as he lowered his arm with an exaggerated sigh.

“Very well. Come along, then,” he said before he opened the gate that separated their townhouses.

Elodie stepped through and headed towards Emma, who stood quietly, clutching a small doll, her wide, apprehensive eyes fixed on her. The sight tugged at Elodie’s heart. She had no idea what to say or how to put the child at ease.

Anthony came to stand next to her and provided the introductions. “Lady Elodie, may I have the honor of introducing you to my niece, Emma?”

Elodie crouched down to meet Emma at eye level. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Emma.”

The little girl hesitated for a moment, then awkwardly dropped into a small, wobbly curtsy, her tiny legs trembling as she stood back up.

“How old are you?” Elodie asked.

Emma held up four fingers without a word.

“Four,” Elodie said. “That is a wonderful age. You know, I believe four is old enough to take care of a pet. Don’t you agree?”

Emma’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I do.”

“If you could choose,” Elodie began, leaning in, “would you rather have a cat or a dog?”

“Dog,” the girl promptly replied.

Anthony interrupted, “Lady Elodie, I do not think?—”

Elodie turned to look up at Anthony. “Do you not think every little girl should have a dog?”

He glanced at Emma and let out a resigned sigh. “I suppose a dog would not be the worst thing in the world.”

A bright smile came to Emma’s face, the happiness spilling over into her eyes. “I have always wanted a dog.”

Anthony moved to crouch down beside Elodie. “Then you shall have one. It may take a few days, but I promise I will find you the perfect dog.”

Emma’s excitement was so genuine, so infectious, that it brought a smile to Elodie’s lips. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered.

A maid quietly stepped forward, gently placing a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “If I may, it is time for Miss Emma’s breakfast.”

Anthony tipped his head in acknowledgment, though his eyes lingered on his niece.

Elodie nudged his arm playfully with her elbow. “You did a good thing, you know.”

Turning to face her, he asked, “A dog? Truly?”

“Just think about how happy it will make your niece,” Elodie said. “Besides, I will help take care of it. I will even take it for walks in the park.”

“I shall hold you to that.” He glanced upwards, squinting slightly as the sun broke through the clouds. “I should go review the accounts before we depart for our carriage ride through Hyde Park.”

“And I need to eat,” Elodie declared, patting her stomach. “Next time, instead of throwing grapes at you, I shall eat them.”

“I am sure that your mother would prefer that.”

Just as she began to turn and walk away, Anthony’s voice stopped her. “Thank you. For everything.”

Elodie turned back to face him. “You can repay me by finding Emma a cute puppy. There is nothing worse than an ugly dog. It is awkward when one has to pretend they aren’t repulsed by an unfortunate-looking dog.”

Anthony bowed. “You have my word.”

Anthony sat at his desk, staring at the ledgers, though his mind was elsewhere. The numbers blurred together, and he was tired from grappling with his emotions. He glanced at the long clock in the corner and noted that it was nearly time for his carriage ride with Elodie. Despite the tiresome day, he found himself looking forward to the outing. There was something about being in Elodie’s company that made the world seem a little brighter.

Just as he rose from his chair, Percy stepped into the room. “The carriage has been brought around front, my lord.”

Anthony nodded his thanks and paused. “I have decided to get Miss Emma a puppy. Do you know where I might find one?”

“Do you have a specific breed in mind?” Percy asked.

“No, but the only requirement is that it not be… ugly,” Anthony replied with a faint smile.

Percy gave him a bemused look. “Is there such a thing as an ugly puppy?”

“Apparently so,” Anthony said. “Lady Elodie was quite insistent on that point.”

His butler’s lips twitched. “I shall endeavor to find a suitably non-ugly puppy for Miss Emma.”

“I think a puppy might bring some joy to Emma. She could use a bit of happiness right now.”

“I have no doubt it will,” Percy agreed. “Children do have a particular fondness for animals.”

With that settled, Percy exited the study, and Anthony crossed to the mirror on the wall, adjusting his cravat one last time. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for his ride with Elodie.

As he made his way out of the study and into the entry hall, he was met by his brother. Stephen descended the stairs, looking surprisingly put together for this time of day.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Stephen asked, eyeing him curiously.

“I am taking Elodie on a carriage ride through Hyde Park,” Anthony replied, adjusting his gloves.

Stephen’s eyebrows shot up. “During the fashionable hour? Tell me, are you courting the lovely Elodie?”

Anthony would love nothing more than to court Elodie properly, but she seemed immune to his advances. “We are simply family friends, enjoying a ride.”

Stephen came to a stop in front of him, his grin widening. “If you are not interested in pursuing Elodie, may I have a go at her? Elodie is quite… charming.”

Anthony’s blood boiled at the mere suggestion, his hands balling into fists. “Absolutely not!” he snapped, stepping closer to his brother. “You will stay far away from Elodie.”

“Why so protective? Surely there is more to it than her reputation.”

“There is nothing more to it than protecting her from your reputation,” Anthony replied tightly. “You are a rake, and I will not allow you to ruin her name.”

Stephen held his hands up in surrender. “You made your point, but I can’t help but wonder if there is more to it than that.”

Anthony had no desire to discuss his conflicting emotions with his brother. “Good day.” He strode past his brother, stepping outside, and made the short walk to Elodie’s townhouse.

He lifted his hand to knock, but before he could, the door swung open and Elodie slipped out, nearly bumping into him.

“We should go, and quickly,” she said as she hurried down the steps.

Anthony followed her. “Whatever for?”

“Trust me.”

Just as he offered his hand to assist her into the coach, the door opened and Bennett and Winston stepped out with solemn expressions on their faces.

“Drat,” Elodie muttered under her breath.

Bennett and Winston came to a stop in front of Anthony. Bennett spoke first, his voice firm. “If you are anything less than honorable with our sister, we will hunt you down and kill you.”

Winston shook his head. “We will challenge you to a duel first, of course. Then kill you.”

Bennett nodded, as if this were a perfectly reasonable course of action. “Indeed. A duel first, then death.”

Anthony smiled. “You have nothing to worry about. We are simply going for a carriage ride.”

Bennett gave him a long, assessing look before turning his gaze to Elodie. “Hand it over,” he demanded.

Elodie gave him an innocent look. “Hand what over?”

“The nail,” Bennett replied, holding his hand out expectantly. “You know, the one you threaten people with.”

She reached into her reticule and pulled out a rusty, bent nail. She placed it in Bennett’s palm. “Do not lose this.”

Bennett held the nail up. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Anthony held his hand out to Elodie. “Shall we?”

Once Elodie was situated in the carriage, Anthony took his seat across from her. The coach jerked forward, but his eyes lingered on Bennett and Winston, who stood rooted in place, watching them with narrowed eyes.

“Dare I ask about the nail?” Anthony asked, breaking the silence.

Elodie waved her hand in front of her. “It is nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

Elodie studied him for a moment, then let out a small sigh. “When Melody and I were abducted, I found the nail and thought I could use it to protect myself.”

“A nail?” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “You were going to defend yourself with a rusty nail?”

A smirk came to her lips. “Do not underestimate a nail. It can be quite effective. One good scratch, and someone could bleed.”

Anthony feigned horror. “The terror. A bleeding scratch.”

Elodie adjusted the straw hat that sat slightly askew on her head. “We women have very few ways of protecting ourselves. Besides, the nail reminds me of my sister.”

His teasing faded as he caught the shift in her tone. “You must miss her terribly.”

Elodie’s gaze dropped to her hands. “I do. Melody has always been more than just my sister. She is my best friend. We have never truly been apart until now.”

Anthony leaned forward, his voice softening. “I have always admired the bond you two share. I have been envious, to be honest. Stephen and I… well, you have seen us. Our relationship has always been strained at best.”

Elodie’s eyes returned to meet his. “It is different when you are a twin. We may look alike, but our personalities could not be more different. It is those differences that have kept us close.”

“At least Lord Emberly lives only a county away from your family’s country estate,” Anthony attempted.

“It is not the same.”

Anthony could hear the sadness in her voice and decided it was time to change the subject, hoping to lighten the mood. “I am working on getting a non-ugly puppy for Emma.”

That was the right thing to say because Elodie’s eyes lit up. “That is wonderful news! I have no doubt that Miss Emma would appreciate the gesture. I have always wanted a pet, but my father refused.”

“Did he give you a reason?”

Elodie pressed her lips together. “He told me that if I wanted to cuddle with something, I should get myself a husband.”

Anthony chuckled. “Well, I cannot entirely fault your father’s logic.”

“It is idiotic!” Elodie declared, crossing her arms in defiance. “Why can’t I have a dog or a cat, for that matter? Although, if I could choose, my ideal pet would be a unicorn.”

“Unicorns aren’t real.”

Elodie gave him a thoughtful look. “Aren’t they?” she asked. “Fine. My second ideal pet would be a miniature horse.”

“What would you do with a miniature horse?” Anthony asked.

Elodie looked at him like he was a simpleton. “The same thing I would do with a dog or a cat. I would love it.”

Anthony settled back in his seat. “A miniature horse is a waste.”

“I disagree. The Prince Regent has many miniature horses.”

“Yes, but he is also known for his wasteful spending,” Anthony argued.

Elodie fidgeted with the reticule around her wrist. “Regardless, I would name the miniature horse Henry.”

“Henry?” Anthony echoed, stifling a laugh. “Why Henry?”

“Because I have always wanted to name a horse Henry.”

“And if it is a girl?”

“Henrietta, obviously.”

Anthony grinned. “Those are absurd names for horses.”

“So says you,” Elodie shot back. “I think they are perfectly fine names for a miniature horse.”

“Remind me not to let you help select our non-ugly dog’s name,” Anthony teased.

Elodie narrowed her eyes playfully. “Those are perfectly acceptable names.”

“So says you,” Anthony said, using her words against her. “But I prefer stronger names for my horses.”

“But a miniature horse is different,” Elodie defended. “They are little, cantankerous things. Much like me.”

As the carriage entered Hyde Park and joined the elegant parade of carriages along Rotten Row, the fashionable hour was in full swing. The air buzzed with the sound of horses’ hooves and the low murmur of conversations from other carriages.

“Have you been to Rotten Row before?” Anthony asked.

“I have walked it, but not during the fashionable hour,” Elodie shared, her eyes wide as she took in the spectacle. “There are so many carriages ahead of us.”

“It is the place to be seen,” Anthony said.

Elodie’s eyes remained straight ahead, her posture stiffening. “I do not wish to be seen. I am perfectly content with being a wallflower.”

Anthony gave her a knowing look. “I daresay that is impossible. You are far too beautiful to be a mere wallflower.”

But rather than accepting the compliment, Elodie’s expression shifted, annoyance flashing in her eyes. “I don’t want to be known as only a pretty face.”

“I never said you were.”

Elodie's back went rigid. “One of the teachers at my boarding school used to tell me that being beautiful was the greatest asset for a genteel woman. That nothing else mattered.”

“I disagree with your teacher.”

“As do I, but I don’t think she was entirely wrong,” Elodie said. “Most gentlemen only care about a woman’s appearance. They seem to dismiss her mind entirely.”

Anthony gave her a reassuring smile. “Only the foolish ones do that. Any man worth his salt values more than just beauty.”

“It is a shame you do not believe in unicorns,” she said lightly.

“I would not tell people that you believe unicorns are real.”

Elodie sat straighter in her seat and adopted a mock-serious tone. “People once thought that the world was flat, but Christopher Columbus proved them wrong when his ship didn’t fall off the edge of the earth. The same argument could be used for the existence of unicorns.”

Anthony looked heavenward, though he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “What other mystical creatures do you believe in?”

“None. Just unicorns,” Elodie said, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

As he went to reply, he caught sight of something in the distance. “Do not look now, but your brothers are trailing us on horseback.”

“I am not the least bit surprised.”

“I think it is admirable, actually,” Anthony remarked. “That they are so protective of you.”

A smile came to Elodie’s lips. “It is true. They are the best of brothers, at least when they aren’t stealing my buttered bread.”

“They steal your bread?”

Elodie bobbed her head. “Oh, yes. They may be protective, but when it comes to buttered bread, all bets are off.”

“I will make sure to keep that in mind,” Anthony said as their carriage continued its steady pace along Rotten Row, surrounded by the watchful eyes of the ton . For the first time, he didn’t care who saw them—he was just happy to be in Elodie’s company.