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Chapter One
Lady Constance Moreland, last daughter and youngest child of Viscount Moore, was getting a little tired of being an original. It had seemed like such a good idea when she had come up with it but, she thought with a sigh that she quickly turned into a light cough followed by a serene smile, it was turning out to be far duller than she had anticipated.
Take this house party, for example, Connie thought as she glanced around the well-appointed room in which she and her fellow guests were gathered. She really ought to have remained on the continent where she was praised and feted for having thoughts in her head other than the latest fashions and tidbits of gossip. But here, rather than anyone other than her hostess thinking she was brilliant, most of the other ladies avoided her studiously while the gentlemen seemed determined to prove that a lady who has chosen to remain unwed was of questionable moral fortitude. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t sitting at home doing needlework but had instead chosen a more adventurous life, but Connie couldn’t understand how or why that would bring her judgment or morals into question.
Connie struggled to make friends. It was a challenge to avoid eye contact with gentlemen staring at her admiringly while also trying to appear open for conversation if the conversant was another woman. She was never sure she had pulled it off. She supposed that was why she heard whispers that she was standoffish. Connie was relieved that she had at least her paid companion at her side. But even poor Peggy wanted to be rid of her, just for different reasons than the others. Peggy was the most devoted of friends but Connie knew she wanted a different life than they were currently living.
The social situation Lady Constance faced was truly tiresome. Perhaps she ought to just go home. But that would be admitting defeat. And a Moreland would never admit such a preposterous thing. Besides, Grandmother Asquith, the darling old curmudgeon who had inspired her and made her life of travel possible, would never forgive her if she were to find out Connie had been so insipid. Of course, the fact that Grandmother had died would make that challenging, but still, it was the principle of the matter. Constance had to stay the course. Even if she at times wondered why she had thought it was such a brilliant idea in the first place.
Take her hostess, Lady Adelaide, for example. She clearly had a brain in her pretty head. And her husband evidently adored her and supported her “fits and starts” as he sometimes called his wife’s original ideas. And yet, if Constance wasn’t mistaken, the viscountess was with child. As an aging maiden, Constance was well aware that many would be scandalized that she was even aware that was a possibility, but she had grown up in the country with lots of animals about. She had a rudimentary idea of where babies came from. And with her older sisters already married and starting their families, it was impossible not to know at least a little bit, even if she was supposed to keep that knowledge to herself.
It was the most ridiculous thing and one of the reasons she should have stayed away. At least on the continent some of these ridiculous, staid ideas were kept under bounds. Connie wanted to ask her hostess about her pregnancy but conventions held her back. It made Constance feel rude. Surely the viscountess would be excited or possibly nervous about the future arrival. Wouldn’t shewantto talk about it?
Of course, Lady Adelaide had friends and family that she was far closer to than her guest. In fact, Constance wondered what prompted her being invited at all. She had discussed the matter extensively with her companion, Peggy. Or rather Miss Smith. Connie had to keep reminding herself that they were back in polite society and she had to mind the conventions. She couldn’t refer to her companion in the familiar while in company. Since that was terribly hard for Connie to remember, she had taken to trying to refer to her companion, even in her mind, as the more formal Miss Smith rather than how she had taken to call her for the past two years.
Speaking of, Connie thought with a smile as she glanced around the room. Where had her companion gotten to? Shouldn’t she be, well, keeping her company? That was her assigned role for goodness’ sake.
Not that Connie ever really needed company. She found her own company to be the most stimulating. Having a companion was merely one other convention she had to abide by. And it was the only way her family could countenance her travels. And Peggy, Miss Smith, was the only person both she and her family could agree upon. She was suitably acceptable to chaperone Lady Constance Moreland but not too dull to bore Connie to tears.
And they were related besides. Distantly, but still, family is family, Connie thought. It must be the worst sort of uncomfortable being the poor relation. While being a paid companion had to still be difficult at times, Connie had done her best not to make the other woman feel awkward in her company.
But the poor dear had been pining for home, which was why Connie had accepted this invitation. Well, that and the fact that she had been a little bit homesick herself. But she should have known that home wouldn’t be homey for her anymore. Constance was beginning to suspect that she would never be comfortable anywhere.
Once you stepped out of the box Society had assigned you, you couldn’t comfortably settle yourself back into it again. But also, no other box was home. It was quite the conundrum. Connie suspected soldiers probably felt the same way only probably far worse since they had done and witnessed things that they could never talk about.
She had, of course, done and witnessed things she could never talk about, too, but it was a far different matter. She couldn’t describe the crispness of the air on that mountain in Italy to someone who had only ever spent time in London or on their estate. How could she describe the deep blue of the lake she had come across on the top of that same mountain to someone who hadn’t seen something similar?
No, being an original was a rather lonely existence. And having a paid companion didn’t make it any less lonely.
Constance’s eyes swept the room again. Miss Alcott was missing as well. Was it possible the girl was with Peggy, Miss Smith? Not terribly likely.Where was she?Miss Alcott was the most interesting woman Connie had yet met on this recent foray back into polite society. Constance would like to further the acquaintance, but the other young woman kept disappearing. Connie had started to think the girl might be pursuing some of the other activities house parties had a reputation for. She hadn’t thought Miss Alcott seemed the type nor that Lady Adelaide would countenance such a thing, but how else to explain the woman’s frequent absences? Then again, Peggy was often absent, too, so perhaps there were other things going on. She would have to investigate. The thought filled her with anticipation.
Her eyes narrowed in thought which she quickly adjusted. It wouldn’t do to appear calculating as one lady had already accused her of. Connie stifled another sigh. She should have known better than to accept Lady Adelaide’s invitation, but it had been so very tempting. Here she was, though, only one day into her stay and already wishing to leave. She supposed she could fabricate an emergency of some sort, but that would require that someone write to her, which was an unlikely event.
No, she would have to make the best of it and try to see the humour in the situation. It would just be easier with the seeming protection of her companion by her side. If only she had the ability to make friends easily like some ladies seemed to possess. No, Connie had to pay for a companion. And said companion couldn’t even be relied upon to stay by her side.
Finally, Constance took herself to task. Perhaps the poor dear was sick or some such. She ought to go check on her rather than sit here thinking poorly of the other woman. Just because she was paying her didn’t mean Miss Smith was actually her servant. And while her employment ought to give her a sense of obligation toward Constance, Peggy wasn’t actually expected to be at her beck and call every waking moment. Still, it unsettled Constance to feel so alone in the assembled crowd, so with a serene smile pinned to her face, she glided from the room.
“Oh, my apologies,” a deep voice said as Constance nearly collided with a large man. A shiver danced down her spine as he briefly clasped her arm to prevent her from stumbling. A delicious one. An unfamiliar sensation, to be sure. He quickly removed his hand from her person but it felt as though he left an imprint even though he hadn’t hurt her in any way.
“No harm was done,” Constance replied as she quickly stepped away from him, ignoring the inexplicable urge to remain exactly where she was. She tried, too, to ignore the breathy quality of her voice. She didn’t consider herself the breathy sort.
“Have we been introduced?” he asked with a frown. “I ought to be much more conversant about these things since I’ve shown up to the launches of two of my sisters, but none of the rules want to stick in my head.”
Connie bit the inside of her cheek to prevent her amusement from spreading across her face.
“I think we were actually introduced very briefly when I made my debut at the same time as one of your sisters. Since this is a house party, I suppose the rules aren’t nearly as stringent as in Town.” She held out her hand to introduce herself. “It might be unusual, but I might as well remind you who I am.” She almost stumbled over her words as his large, warm hand engulfed hers. From his attire he seemed to be a wellborn gentleman, but the calluses evident on his fingers and palm indicated he worked as a labourer. “I am Lady Constance Moreland.”
The gentleman bowed over her hand, even placing a kiss on her wrist. A thrill shook through Constance’s insides. Without gloves as she was that morning, it was a far different sensation than she was used to.
“It’s a pleasure to remake your acquaintance Lady Constance Moreland. I am Florent, the Honorable Mr. Alcott, if we’re being formal.”
Connie blinked. This man was a conundrum. Dressed elegantly, but clearly a worker, he was the heir to the viscountcy next door. And Miss Alcott’s oldest brother. The other late arriving guest because he couldn’t be torn away from his estate. He was her exact opposite from what she had gleaned from people’s chatter. So why was she so instinctively drawn to him?
He was a handsome man, of course, but she had met dozens of handsome men in the course of her life. None had ever made her wish to linger in their presence. It was a large part of why she had taken herself off to travel the world when Grandmother Asquith had left Constance her fortune. No, this was just an aberration of the air here at Everleigh, Connie assured herself as she finally pulled her hand out of the man’s clasp and took another step back, using the excuse of executing a curtsy to put a little more distance between them.
“I hadn’t heard that you had arrived, Mr. Alcott,” Constance finally blurted out and instantly coloured. She never blurted. It was the most absurd reaction. She tried to make a recovery. “How are things at Alcott?”
“Well, thank you. We are having a quiet moment, so I listened to my mother’s urgings to get out of the house, even if it was only to next door.” He grinned. “Does it not seem a trifle strange to be packing and attending a house party a mere twenty-minute ride away?” He asked the question while shaking his head. “But my mother and Lady Adelaide both insisted that I needed to stay over if I was to attend at all. And I suppose, it would be tiresome to be riding back and forth, especially in the dark or if it were to rain.”
