“I must say, it is good to be back in London.”
Lord Burnley chuckled.
“I think you only say such a thing because Miss Davenport is no longer present.”
Benedict could not help his smile. The day was fine, and a walk through Hyde Park brought with it a good many delights. The sun was warm, the flowers glorious, and the stroll had, thus far, given him the opportunity to greet a good many acquaintances, all of whom had met him with a smile.
“Mayhap,” he agreed, offering his friend a small shrug. “It may surprise you to know that, since I have returned to society, I have barely even thought of her. It does appear as though my feelings for the lady have burned up and blown away, without causing me a great deal of pain.” Lord Burnley’s eyebrows rose, although he said nothing, but neither did Benedict allow himself to take heed of his friend’s response. “We shall have to think of something to do,” Benedict continued, while his friend remained quiet. “Shall we place another bet, mayhap?”
At this, Lord Burnley grinned.
“Do you truly wish to embarrass yourself, yet again?”
Laughing, Benedict threw up his hands in mock frustration.
“If you recall, I was held up during our last bet, which is the only reason I lost. If I had not stumbled over that young lady, then I am certain that I would have beaten your carriage.”
“Is that so?” Lord Burnley’s grin grew a little lop-sided as he looked over at Benedict. “Then perhaps we should make the bet again, although this time with the wager amount doubled.”
“Mayhap we should.” Not in the least bit perturbed, Benedict let his hand curl tight in anticipation. It was time for a little joviality, for he had been much too serious these last few weeks. Now that the matter with Miss Davenport was at an end, he had time to find himself some new venture, and even to permit himself a little foolishness. Bets and wagers were nothing but moments of enjoyment and laughter, and he had no intention of holding himself back from such things any longer. “Mayhap we ought to consider a new wager.” When his friend let out a bark of laughter, Benedict shrugged. “It is dull to repeat one, do you not think? I am certain that, by the end of our walk through the park, we will have come up with something entirely new.”
“So this is your intention, is it? Just amusement?” Lord Burnley’s grin had dimmed a little. “You have no thought of going in search of another young lady to betrothe yourself to?”
Benedict scowled and looked away from his friend, aware of the immediate rejection of such an idea within himself.
“No, I have no intention of doing any such thing. I shall enjoy the remaining months of the Season and thereafter, return to my estate and resume the many laborious tasks which await me.”
“As we shall all do.” The darkness in Lord Burnley’s tone spoke of the same discontent that Benedict felt when he considered returning to his estate and leaving good company behind. “So therefore, you are right to state that we must seek out as much enjoyment as we can.” Turning his head, he coughed quietly, his eyes fixed on Benedict’s. “Although might I ask if you have any intentions, with respect to the young lady you railed at, during the ball?”
In an instant, the scowl which had been on Benedict’s features only deepened. Yes, he had been thinking of it, but, given the fact that he did not know who the young lady really was, as well as being aware that society would have moved onto something new by now, he felt himself a little lost.
“I am sure that society is speaking of another matter by now.”
“Yes, that is true,” Lord Burnley agreed. “They talk of Lord Kingshill and his ridiculous pursuit of Lady Woodridge, the widow to the late Earl of Woodridge.”
Benedict nodded slowly.
“That is good.” He turned his gaze fully to his friend. “Do you know the name of the young lady I railed at that evening?”
Lord Burnley shook his head to indicate no.
“It was not something which I considered of any great seriousness, so I have not asked a single question about it. And, as I have said, since the gossip has now moved on to something new – and something which I find interesting and am eager to listen to – the matter is quite forgotten, to my mind, at least.”
A slight nudge of relief ran down Benedict’s spine.
“So whilst I may have embarrassed the lady in question, the one I mistook for Miss Davenport, you do not think that the ton continues to laugh at her and my ridiculous behavior towards her?”
Lord Burnley shrugged.
“I cannot say, but I suspect that yes, what you say is correct. I am sure that all is well with her, and she is now more than relieved that the ton no longer think to discuss her. In fact,” Lord Burnley continued, slapping Benedict on the shoulder. “I am quite certain that, if you were to ask a good many questions about who she was, to discover her and, thereafter, attempt to apologize, she might be mortified all over again, simply because you have brought the matter to the fore once more.”
This conclusion calmed Benedict’s guilt somewhat, and he released a long breath, his shoulders dropping.
“Then I too shall consider it at an end,” he stated, firmly. “You are quite correct. It would be a mortification – both to her and to me.”
“Very good,” Lord Burnley grinned. “I think that I –”
His sentence was brought to an end as he – and Benedict also – were accosted by three ladies.
The first stopped by Lord Burnley and began to engage him in conversation, with two others separating themselves from the first and coming towards Benedict instead. The first he recognized as Miss Glover, someone both he and his sister were well acquainted with, given that their parents were known to each other also. The second, however, he did not know.
“Good afternoon, Lord Rushington!” Miss Glover spoke with her usual warmth and her usual speed, words quickly coming from her, one after the other. “I do hope that you are well? Your sister’s wedding was quite delightful, and I can assure you of my pleasure in being there to witness her marriage! Are they on their wedding trip now? I do recall Miss Forrester stating that they were to go to France, although I might well be mistaken in that regard.”
“No, you are not mistaken.”
With a chuckle, Benedict reassured Miss Glover quickly but allowed his gaze to rest upon the other young lady. She was most direct in her gaze, looking at him with clear green eyes, her burnished curls dancing across her forehead as the wind chased them about. There was something familiar about her, but Benedict could not recall ever having been introduced.
“Pray do forgive me!” Miss Glover’s hand flew to her mouth. “I am so terribly sorry, for I realize that I ought to have made the introductions by now. My friend has been eager to make your acquaintance, Lord Rushington, so I brought her to meet you.”
A little flustered, Benedict looked down, then let his gaze lift back up to the lady, finding his senses stirred just a little.
“And why, might I ask, should you wish to be introduced to a gentleman such as myself?”
The lady smiled, but it did not send any sort of light sparkling into her eyes.
“Because I believe that we have already spoken, Lord Rushington.”
“Oh?” Quickly, Benedict ran various situations and circumstances through his mind, trying to think of who this might be, and why she was so certain that they had spoken already. “I am afraid that I do not recall it.”
“It was some time ago,” came the quiet voice. “Lord Grifford’s Ball? I was out in the gardens and spoke with you briefly – or should I say, you interrupted my quiet thoughts to tell me how much you thought of the gardens!”
At this explanation, Benedict realized at once what the lady meant, nodding urgently.
“Yes, I do recall.” He managed a smile, silently acknowledging that he had interrupted the young lady that evening. Having stepped into the gardens, he had found himself a little entranced by her quiet murmuring and, seeing her standing alone, had taken it upon himself to join her. “Forgive me for my improper manner that evening. I ought to have found someone to introduce us but, given the situation, I dared to speak to you without introduction. I am glad that we have now had an opportunity to be properly introduced.”
When she smiled, Benedict’s heart leaped with such a ferocity that his smile became fixed. Why ever was his heart behaving so? He did not even know this young lady, save for the few words they had shared that night, so many weeks ago! Would he truly permit her sweet smile to affect him so strongly?
“I am glad that we have been introduced also, Lord Rushington. I do hope that you did not think me overly reserved. Young ladies, such as myself, must take the greatest care, you understand.”
“I do.” Much to Benedict’s relief, his heart had decided to put itself back into place and was now beating just as it ought. “It was I who was at fault, though I must say, I was intrigued to see you so affected by the gardens. They were quite lovely, of course, but not overly magnificent. The Vauxhall Gardens are, by comparison, much more delightful and worthy of all manner of accolades.”
The young lady lifted an eyebrow but did not smile, and the grin Benedict had been attempting to set upon his face slid away. He did not want her to think that he had been mocking her opinions or considerations, but perhaps his words had been a little harsh.
“I think that each person sees beauty differently, Lord Rushington.” The green of her eyes darkened a fraction, only for her to then smile and chase the darkness away again. “But then again, I have not been to Vauxhall Gardens, so I suppose I cannot speak with any true understanding.”
“Then you must attend,” he said, long before he had even thought about stating those words. “There is to be a fireworks display in only three days’ time and, at present, I believe that Madame Saqui is also amongst the attractions there.” Seeing the young lady and Miss Glover share a glance, he quickly explained. “Madame Saqui is a tightrope walker, and her skills are quite a sight to behold! I was fortunate enough to see the entertainment only last Season. I should encourage you to attend if you can, Miss… Lady…?” Realizing that he did not know her name, he waited for her to give it, only for her to, yet again, look to Miss Glover.
“Shall you be present in three evenings hence, Lord Rushington?” The young lady tilted her head a little as she spoke, though he did not miss the touch of color in her cheeks. “Neither Miss Glover nor myself have attended such a performance in Vauxhall Gardens. It would be delightful to be there with someone who knew the Gardens well.”
Benedict nodded quickly, only to then realize what he was doing. The young lady’s expression lit up with a bright smile, and Benedict’s heart twisted in his chest. He could not pull himself back from this now, not when she appeared to be so delighted.
How strange it was that his spirits were now lifting a little, also.
“I should be delighted to accompany both yourself and Miss Glover,” he answered, as the two ladies smiled at him.
“I will be attending with my mother also, of course.” Miss Glover gestured to the other young lady. “You may join us in our carriage if you wish?”
“Thank you. I would be glad to.” Turning her smile in Benedict’s direction, the young lady inclined her head though her eyes held fast to his, her dark eyelashes fluttering lightly. “You are very kind, Lord Rushington, to invite us. I am already looking forward to our time together.”
“But of course.” Clearing his throat, he clasped his hands behind his back, embarrassed to ask her for her name after such a long conversation, but seeing that he had no other choice since, as yet, Miss Glover had not said a word. “You must forgive me, but I realize that I do not recall your name.”
“Is that so?” The young lady’s eyebrows lifted high though, thankfully, she smiled with it. “That is not a particularly gentlemanly thing to do, Lord Rushington. I thought a gentleman was meant to play close attention to any new acquaintances so that a situation such as this would not occur!”
Benedict blinked, a gentle warmth beginning to pool in the pit of his stomach. Was she teasing him or laughing at him? From the way her eyes twinkled, he considered it was the former and allowed a small breath to escape before he answered.
“You are quite correct. It is, yet again, another fault I must apologize for.”
“Your second, Lord Rushington.” She emphasized his name, making it quite clear that she recalled precisely who he was. “However, I shall not be lenient with you, I am afraid. Instead, I shall leave you to suffer.”
“Oh?” A little surprised by her response, but also at the way that her eyes danced as she spoke to him, Benedict put one hand to his heart. “And what is to be my punishment?”
A quiet laugh broke from her lips before she spoke, the sound sending a broad smile stretching wide across his face.
“You shall have to suffer for the next few days, searching your mind and your memory for the name which was given you. When we meet at the Vauxhall Gardens, you shall either greet me by my name or you shall not – and what happens thereafter shall depend entirely on your response!” With another smile, she inclined her head and then turned away, fluttering her fingers at him as she went. “Good afternoon, Lord Rushington.”
Try as he might, Benedict could not help but let his gaze follow the lady as she walked away from him. To his surprise, she did not stop and speak with any others, though many ladies and gentlemen were walking through the park also, with some walking directly past her. A small smile plucked at his lips as he finally turned his head away from her. Exactly who was this mysterious young lady? And why did he now find himself so utterly intrigued by her?