Chapter Fifteen
Ophelia emerged from her chambers brimming with excitement and adjusted her long lavender gloves, which matched her glorious gown for this evening’s event at the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens.
Evidently, she and Trudy were in fine luck, as the summer gardens rarely stayed open so late in September.
Being able to attend the last night of scheduled festivities before it closed for the year made Ophelia restless and eager for the evening to begin.
Her mind was filled with dreams and fantasies of what the evening would hold, what with her being asked by Lord Phoenix to attend as his companion.
She wished butterflies were flying in her stomach at the thought of him, but they remained stubbornly absent. What if he was her prince and she was too busy thinking about the Viscount to notice?
The last meeting with Lord Worthing had secured her understanding that he could never be anything but her client.
He would not allow himself a romantic attachment again, and she could not have a relationship without love.
How many times did she need to hear him say it before she accepted it?
She needed to realise that if he was not an option, which he wasn’t, that maybe she needed to set her sights elsewhere, or focus solely on her business.
And if nothing else, could she not enjoy herself this evening and practice some of her social prowess?
Lord Phoenix was handsome and kind and if she allowed herself to forget about the Viscount, then perhaps…
The heel of her shoe caught on the back of her gown and she almost tumbled headlong to the bottom of the stairs. If William hadn’t been there waiting for Hattie, Ophelia would have landed flat on her face. Woolgathering was going to be the literal death of her if she wasn’t more careful.
‘Oof,’ he groaned as he caught her. ‘What has you so distracted, Ophelia? Can it be this Lord Phoenix of yours?’ he teased.
‘Of course it is, William,’ Hattie called from the hallway as she approached. ‘I am nervous, and I have no need to be. He is not my companion this evening.’
William laughed. ‘Trudy, please tell me you are the sensible one in all of this.’
Trudy adjusted her bandeau in the mirror in the foyer.
‘I am merely excited about the gardens. Do you know they have artists that juggle fire? And a canal of boats that take you to and from the shore if you wish? We had nothing of the sort in Stow.’ She beamed, and Ophelia’s excitement increased.
Trudy was rarely enthusiastic about anything other than science, books or museums.
‘Oh, well, I shall have to be the sensible one then since Daphne could not join us this evening.’ He sighed.
‘Do not worry. Lord Worthing will be there if you desire someone to be droll with,’ Trudy quipped.
Ophelia glared at her.
‘Apologies,’ she offered, raising her hands in supplication. ‘That was unfair. He has made great strides and has even secured a young lady to accompany him this evening.’
‘Oh?’ Hattie asked curiously. ‘Who did he invite?’
‘A Miss Charlotte Grey,’ Ophelia offered with a wan smile. ‘She is my top candidate for him.’
‘She is also terribly young and has no dowry, so he most likely looks to be a fine candidate for her too,’ Trudy added in low tones. She glanced away before Ophelia could send her another withering glare.
The brass knocker sounded, echoing through the foyer, and Ophelia froze. Her heart leapt to her throat. Why was she feeling so nervous, as though she didn’t want to go? She knew Lord Phoenix. He was kind, charming and…he entered the foyer looking dashingly handsome.
Not as handsome as Lord Worthing, though.
The stubborn thought skittered in and left before she could bat it away leaving her in a wake of confusion.
Why was she thinking of the Viscount at a time like this? And why was she standing here like a vapid flower rather than greeting Lord Phoenix?
She simply could not think of one single thing to say as if she had never known words or spoken before.
Gah. Why did this always happen to her?
He met her gaze and smiled.
‘You look absolutely breathtaking, Miss Granger. For you,’ he said as he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. It was a gorgeous mixture of geraniums, lavender and hollyhocks. She commanded herself to approach, and finally her legs began working again.
She smiled and received them, the lavender scent calming and appealing. ‘Thank you, my lord. They are beautiful.’
‘Not as much as you,’ he replied, holding her gaze.
She giggled nervously and thanked him again. ‘Let me take them to the kitchen to be placed in a vase.’ She scurried away and tried to give herself a stern talking to.
Where was Daphne when she needed her? Ophelia was out of sorts, and she needed to focus. This evening was important for securing her first client a match—and perhaps to see if Lord Phoenix could be hers.
She counted to ten and took deep, steadying breaths.
She handed off the flowers to the maid in the kitchen and stepped back into the hallway. Trudy tugged her into the parlour. ‘Breathe, Phelia,’ she said softly. ‘If Lord Phoenix is indeed your prince, you can do nothing to put him off. Remember, what is it you always say?’
Ophelia closed her eyes, breathed in and out twice and then said, ‘I cannot miss those things intended for me.’
‘And so, if he is intended for you, you cannot lose him.’ Trudy squeezed her hands, which still trembled.
Did that apply to Lord Worthing too?
She almost groaned aloud in frustration at herself and her thoughts. The man was addling her brain!
Focus on Lord Phoenix. Focus on Lord Phoenix.
Ophelia opened her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes. Yes. I know you are right.’
‘Then, let us enjoy ourselves this evening, shall we?’
She smiled. ‘Yes. We have never seen fire dancers, have we?’
‘Not yet,’ Trudy replied and tugged Ophelia back out to the hallway, where her date for the evening waited: the second most handsome man she had ever seen in this world.
Her body ached at the thought of the first and how he would be this evening with his date: Miss Charlotte Grey. But she mustered up her brightest smile, and accepted Lord Phoenix’s offered arm as they left the manor.
Ophelia settled into the carriage next to Lord Phoenix, and the sheer heat of him sitting next to her was a distraction.
She met Trudy’s gaze, her chaperone for the evening, who sat opposite them in the carriage and exhaled.
After smoothing her skirts, she set a smile on her face and turned to him.
‘Have you been to Vauxhall Gardens before, my lord? Miss Hastings and I never have.’
He smiled at them both. ‘Yes, frequently. They are hard to explain, but I will try. The sights and sounds can be overwhelming. It is hard to know what to look at first. Acrobats, twirlers, dancers and games where prizes can be won.’
‘Games?’ Trudy asked, her interest piqued.
Ophelia laughed. ‘You have her attention now. Miss Hastings has a competitive streak.’
‘And you do not?’ Lord Phoenix asked.
‘Not like hers. You will see.’
He laughed. ‘I look forward to it. And since it is the final night of the season, the Gardens will be teeming with people, excitement, and if the weather holds…fireworks.’
Ophelia’s mouth dropped open. While she had heard of fireworks, she had never seen them. ‘What are fireworks like?’ she inquired.
‘They are beautiful…and loud. It is like watching shooting stars while cannons go off,’ he said. ‘If I know you, Miss Granger, as I think I do, you will adore them.’
‘Then, I know I will,’ she replied, holding his gaze when he smiled big enough for her to see his dimples.
‘Well, we have almost reached Westminster Bridge, and it won’t be long after that. I can hardly wait to see how much you enjoy the evening.’
‘Neither can I, my lord. Neither can I,’ Ophelia murmured as she caught sight of Westminster Bridge off in the distance.
She wondered if her happily ever after was about to begin.
Miss Charlotte Grey was a sweet, unassuming young woman with a gentleness that put Lucas at ease far faster than he expected.
She wore a beautiful sage-green dress, which complemented her fair skin, auburn hair, and green eyes that reminded him of moss.
Perhaps Miss Granger knew something about this whole matchmaking business after all.
Still, it was a pity that he appeared to have a preference for turquoise blue over moss green…
and a longing for his matchmaker over the match chosen for him this evening.
‘I have never been to the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, my lord,’ Miss Grey said, staring wide-eyed out of his carriage window as they travelled down through Mayfair toward Westminster.
He smiled at her innocent curiosity. It reminded him of Miss Granger and his body reacted as it always did when he thought of his matchmaker.
He shook his head to remove such stubborn thoughts of her and replied to Miss Grey, the woman he needed to focus his mind and attentions on to see if she would indeed make him a suitable wife.
‘I have, but it has been several years. From what I do remember it is magical and vibrant, and although it is only across the Thames, it feels like you are a world away.’
She smiled, and it made her soft features pretty and he could see how a man might get used to her company—if he’d not met Miss Granger first. ‘Thank you again for the invitation as well as the flowers, my lord. It was a lovely surprise after our brief meeting at the masquerade ball.’
‘I am honoured you accepted my invitation.’ He glanced away and back at her. ‘I know…that I may not have been your first choice in a suitor.’
‘Why would you say that? You are a kind, respectable gentleman. Who would not be honoured?’ There was that smile again. It was melting away his self-doubt a bit at a time, and he found himself reluctantly hopeful that Miss Granger had been correct.
‘I do have a rather unfortunate reputation,’ he murmured awkwardly, wanting to be honest with her.
Her smile fell away, and she shook her head, her gaze shifting out the carriage window. ‘Gossip sheets are only that. And I know…’ She paused and fidgeted with her gloved hands in her lap. ‘I know what damage they can do. You must be aware of my own family’s struggles.’
He searched his memory. ‘I cannot think of anything I have heard about you or your family, Miss Grey. Although, I admit that I do not read the gossip sheets regularly. Well, at least not until recently when I began my…return to Society.’ He was careful not to reveal his use of a matchmaker.
Not yet. He didn’t wish to scare the girl off or show his own desperation for a match.
She watched him, nibbling her lower lip as if deciding something, and then she began.
‘Then, perhaps I should just tell you. I would hate for you to feel misled when you found out this news later. My father lost a great deal of money two years ago and we almost lost everything. It is why my debut into Society was so delayed…and most likely why I remain without a match after the Season ended earlier this year. I have no dowry, my lord. And no title. If anything, I am or would be somewhat of a…liability to you.’ Her shoulders dropped and she leaned back into the squabs as if a great weight had been lifted from her.
There was an honesty and rawness to her that awakened his protective instincts, and he hardly knew the woman. But he thought he might want to, and he found himself rather pleased with his choice, or rather Denton’s choice, to invite her out with him this evening.
While she was not Miss Granger, she was at least…interesting.
‘Is that why you chose not to bring along a chaperone? I was surprised when you were alone when I called for you this evening.’
She flushed. ‘No, no. I am not trying to trap you into anything, my lord.’
He balked. ‘I did not mean to suggest that at all, Miss Grey. You seem to be honest almost to a fault, from what I can tell.’
‘I came alone because I had no one to join me. My mother disagreed with my decision to accept your invitation and refused to send along a maid with me. She is angry I did not accept another man’s offer of marriage, but I couldn’t. He was not a good man. I did not trust him.’
‘Ah. And I imagine I am not her first choice either?’ He chuckled.
‘No.’ She gave him a small smile. ‘But you are mine, if I may be so bold to say. I enjoyed our dance and meeting last weekend. You were the only man who asked me questions about myself and listened. And you have incredibly kind eyes, my lord.’
With every word, he felt his mask of ‘beast’ falling away.
Her kindness, openness and acceptance of him was so unexpected he almost didn’t trust it.
Not yet anyway. ‘I find you rather intriguing as well, Miss Grey. I think we shall enjoy our time together this evening. We will be joining two other parties at the supper boxes when we arrive. I hope that is agreeable to you.’
Her eyes lit up. ‘Yes, my lord. I would love to meet your friends and share a meal out of doors. What a fine treat. Thank you.’
‘Well, it will not be long now. We are approaching the Thames.’
‘I can hardly wait,’ she replied.
To his surprise, considering Miss Grey was everything he thought he wanted in a match, Lucas found himself struggling to get equally excited, but he told himself sternly that he was indeed eager for their evening in the Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens to begin.