Lord Atten Meets His Match Read online

  “Everett!” Madeline burst into the room. “You came!”

  Even though he knew she had to be eighteen, it amused him to see his beautiful cousin with her hair in braids. He stood up to receive her hug, and Emilia was shortly behind. The pair seemed to be out of breath, as if they ran the whole way up from the stream.

  David was the last to join the group. “They didn’t believe me when I told them Cousin Everett was here. They had to come see for themselves.” He sat down with a smirk. “Now do you believe me?”

  Emilia squeezed Everett. “You are always finding ways to tease us, David. Of course we would see for ourselves.”

  Everett shook his head, and it was then, as he was pulling away from the combined hugs of Emilia and Madeline, that his older cousin inhaled sharply with her jaw gaping.

  “What is it?” he asked, fully aware that she was staring directly at him. “You look as though you have witnessed an apparition of sorts.”

  “Perhaps I have,” she whispered as she continued to search his features. Then, before he could utter another word, she took a step back. “Why, you’re in love! I can see it all over you. Who is she? Can we meet her?”

  Aunt Charlotte clutched her chest. “How wonderful! Are you here to announce your betrothal? Is that why you’ve come? No wonder you are so distraught. You’re missing her!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN:

  After dinner, Everett and Uncle Lucas entered the family drawing room. The children were already abed, except Madeline, who looked exceptionally fine with her hair up properly and wearing a new muslin gown. Aunt Charlotte stood as the gentlemen came into the room and went to sit next to her husband, leaving Everett and Madeline to be side by side.

  His cousin grinned as he flipped his coat tails and sank into the settee next to her. “Now that the little ones are gone, will you speak to us? Mama and I have been plaguing ourselves over the miss who has captured your heart. We are so excited for you.”

  “Honestly?” He could not believe his family would care so much.

  “Yes, Everett!” Aunt Charlotte laughed. “Now please put our curiosity to rest. Who is she?”

  He scrunched up his brow, not sure how to broach the sensitive subject.

  Madeline’s looks softened. “Is all well?”

  “No. I wish it were, but it is not.”

  “Well?” pressed his aunt. “Surely with us all here, we can help to find a solution.”

  “Ha! Only if the solution is not to feel so horridly guilty for caring for the girl, then perhaps.”

  “Guilty?” Charlotte looked to Lucas. “He is becoming more captivating by the moment, is he not, my dear?”

  Uncle Lucas nodded. “I am not much for idle chatter, but I must say, even you have caught my attention.”

  “She is Herbert Waite’s daughter, Miss Charity Waite. She is—”

  Aunt Charlotte gasped as both hands flew to her face. “Everett, no! You cannot mean it.”

  Out of all the reactions he could have predicted from his aunt, this almost pain-like response wasn’t at all what he expected. “I do, sadly. Though she and I would wish it away for as much as it plagues us both.”

  “She returns your fancy?”

  “I—yes. I don’t know. She seems to have more conviction than I. For after she learned the truth of the feud—because neither of us knew it until this morning—she cried off from an outing we were to take today. And I, having learned shortly after her what was so tragic, could not—I did not know what to do with myself. I packed up and came here.”

  “So you are on the heels of such an announcement!” Charlotte looked stunned. “Tell me it isn’t so. Tell me your mother, or father at some point, explained the tension between our family and the Waites.”

  “Never. Not once was it uttered. I learned years ago not to even mention it. And it would seem the Waites treated poor Charity the exact same way. So much so, we knew we should not consider an attachment, but neither of us truly understood why.”

  “Until today,” Madeline said softly.

  “Until today.” He rubbed his forehead with a hand and then looked to Madeline. “Wait a moment. Are you implying you have known all along about my father stealing away Lord Waite’s fiancée?”

  Madeline worried her lip and looked away. “Um, well, yes. I wouldn’t say I’ve known all along, but definitely for several months now.”

  He looked helplessly at his aunt and uncle. “And no one thought to inform me?”

  “Oh, Everett!” Charlotte chuckled. “You cannot expect me to believe that you did not know such a thing.”

  “I can and do!” He could not help himself and laughed. There was something so incredibly easy at the Bentleys, one could never stay indifferent to their happy way of seeing the world. “And now I am in such a pickle for it.”

  “Is she so very wonderful, then?” Madeline asked. “What is she like?”

  “Humorous, lively, witty, kind, loyal, caring, enchanting, and completely kissable.”

  “Kissable!” Uncle Lucas choked. “What does that mean?”

  “You have not kissed her, have you?” Aunt Charlotte looked over at Atten. “Surely you have not fallen as hard as that.”

  “Much worse, I’m afraid.” He winced. “The truth is, I may very well kiss her again if given the chance.”

  “Everett!” Charlotte gasped.

  “I will not hide behind the truth.” He grinned. “So now you know. I’m a cad. And a coward, because I should do the correct thing and run away and never think of her again. And yet, I cannot. I feel as though I would be betraying one of the greatest pieces of me.”

  Madeline took a deep breath and leaned into the settee. “Of all the years I’ve known you, it is something entirely different to see you so romantical.”

  “I am a sad sop.”

  “’Tis true.” Uncle Lucas coughed. “But I don’t know a man who isn’t besotted by a woman eventually. Your time was fast approaching.”

  “Whatever will you do, Everett?” Madeline searched his face. “This must be very difficult for Miss Waite as well.”

  His smile slipped. “I do not know. The worst of it is, there is talk that her father is still pining for Mother.”

  “No!” Aunt Charlotte shook her head. “It cannot be. Not after all these years. Not after having a wife and child of his own…” Her voice trailed off.

  Atten shrugged. “Perceval believes it might be why Charity called off our outing this afternoon. She is afraid of harming her mother more.”

  “Oh, dear.” Charlotte took a deep breath. “Well, I can see why you have such a long face.”

  “I am so ashamed of my father at the moment. I cannot fathom that my parents would do what they did and leave Lord Waite in the dark. Father’s own closest friend! What loyalty is that?”

  “Do not be so hard on them, Everett.” Aunt Charlotte reached over and held Lucas’s hand. “My papa, your mother’s father, would not listen to your father or my sister when they tried to make him see reason months before. He was especially hard on Annabelle and eventually created so much guilt within her that she ignored your father and went forward with her duty. Yet, even though her fleeing was a great surprise to us all, I didn’t regret her actions. Not once. Perhaps things could have been handled a little more properly with the actual elopement, but my heart soared when I learned she’d gone the next morning. My sister had spent the evening weeping. No bride deserves to sob before her wedding.”

  Atten looked at his aunt, uncle, and cousin, and then nodded. “Thank you for sharing with me. I have to admit, I have not been myself since I learned of the news. However, this has given my heart some joy. Something to ponder tonight, at the least.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  The next morning, Everett and Madeline walked down to the stream near their orchard. With the dew full on, it was a brisk morning. She had worn a thick pelisse and hat, and he’d chosen his overcoat for the excursion. It brought back old memories he’d had at this place a
s a child. She had always been the sister he’d wished he had.

  They made it all the way to the old rope swing and sat down on their favorite boulders. Madeline tossed some stale bread into the pool near their feet and giggled like she always did when the fish came to the surface and nibbled at the bits.

  Warmth spread through his chest and tingled down his back. This was heaven. How he would love to bring Charity here and experience the calmness that came from his country family. “There is magic here,” he whispered. “There must be.”

  Madeline grinned. “Aye, have we not chased the fairies and sprites in that very field every summer?”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “Why do we have to grow up, eh? Why can’t we be ten years old with no fear and no responsibilities?”

  “And no rejection.” He looked over just in time to see a flash of pain mar her pretty features.

  “Madeline? What is it?” he asked gently.

  Her face was back to its usual smiles. “Whatever do you mean? Today is a lovely day to reminisce, is it not?”

  “Precisely. So why won’t you share what gave you that expression just now?”

  “Everett.”

  “Madeline,” he teased, and then he sobered up. “No one has harmed you or spurned you, have they?”

  She looked down and twisted her skirts around her fingers. And then just when he thought she would open up, she leaned over and touched his shoulder. “Don’t give up on Miss Waite, Everett. Even if she is unsure now, let her be. Let her love her mother and respect her feelings—but do not give up.”

  Her gaze seemed to burn right through him. He had been gone too long. She had secrets now, and he was that older distant cousin who was on the verge of prying. Someone had clearly injured her heart. And yet with that pain came a distinct lesson she was attempting to pass on. “How can you be certain she cares enough for me to want to continue on after all of this?”

  Madeline glanced away and took a deep breath. “Oh, Everett, why are men so very daft?”

  “Because no species can keep up with its female counterparts, obviously,” he quipped.

  “Of course she cares for you or she would not have called off your outing so quickly. Had you been someone she did not think much of, it would not have warranted the necessary confusion of removing herself from your charms.”

  “My charms?” He suddenly laughed. “My charms? How charming can a man be if the very miss he wishes to seek out flees from him?”

  “Ho! You are a man whose charismatic presence simply cannot be ignored. Trust me when I say, she is only doing what she feels is correct, and dreading it excessively as well.”

  Something about hearing his cousin express such things gave him more hope than he could have imagined the day before. But he really could not allow her to continue in such a vein—no matter how flattering it would be. “My dear cousin, Miss Charity Waite was practicing the exact decorum a lady of her stature must. Especially in the midst of the season’s inane gabblemongers.” He pulled back and stared at her for a moment before completely changing the subject. “Why are you not being presented at court this year? Why have you not had your season yet?”

  She glanced around and then shushed him. “I did not want it!”

  “But I don’t understand. How could a young girl like you not want to be paraded around London in new gowns and attend all the galas and soirees?”

  “Do you find it exciting?”

  “No, I find it excessively tedious. A complete bore.”

  “Which is the exact reason why I remain here.”

  And then it immediately made sense. “Why, your beau! The one who broke your heart. He was here.”

  “Everett Atten! Take it back this instant!” She scrambled to her feet, and he joined her. “I want you never to say such things again.”

  “It would seem my words have struck a chord, dear one.” He bowed. “Forgive me. It was not my intention to upset you. I merely felt as though I was piecing together a puzzle of sorts.”

  She folded her arms and lifted her chin. “My life is not yours to piece.”

  “I understand that.” He frowned slightly, at a total loss. “I am greatly sorry if I have jumped to a conclusion that was not correct.”

  Madeline wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “Oh, Everett,” she mumbled into his cravat. “It was so very awful. Do not grimace at me so. Believe me, I have suffered enough melancholy over the silliness of Mr. Whitten that I never want to think of him again.”

  Everett pulled back a little to see her face. “The clergyman? The one Papa and Uncle Lucas raved over for months? That young man from Plymouth who was an angel in disguise? That Mr. Whitten?”

  She tucked her head, and her hands clung to his back. “More like the devil’s angel in disguise.”

  Everett was aghast. “And what did the sop do to you? Should I destroy him instantly, or allow a torturous month or two?”

  She giggled, and the side of her cheek he could see went pink.

  “You know I could do it, too.”

  “Oh, I know.” She mumbled something and then looked up at him. Her grin was all the answer he needed. “I would love to see his face when the Earl of Cheswick gave him a good talking to.”

  “With your reaction, I’m afraid this cousin would do more than just give him a talking to. Perhaps let his jaw meet my fist a time or two.”

  She sighed and then laughed. “Oh, how I’ve missed you. We all have! Why must you stay away so long now?”

  “Because I am grown up. I have to see to business in town while everyone else is there. I’m no longer a boy in short tails scampering about in your family’s garden.”

  “Ha!” She stepped away. “Do you remember old Miller chasing us around the garden with his pitchfork?”

  “Yes! But do you remember Uncle Lucas’s reaction, when we thought for sure your papa would stop his insolence? He plum well told the old coot to scalpel us with that pitchfork if he needed to.”

  Her laughter bounced around the small hollow and lightened his heart immensely. She looked toward the hill, where the house was, and then back at him. There was an urgency in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Go home,” she whispered. “Go back to London and be bold.”

  “Bolder than I already am?”

  She shook her head at his nonsense. “Be brave. Challenge her. Remind her that she feels for you. Remind her that her heart will never be whole without you. Let her see that you and she matter as much as the rest—nay, even more so.”

  “Say all the things your Mr. Whitten did not?”

  Madeline looked down at her boots. “And everything he should have.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  Charity put on her bright red chemise and white bonnet with the cherries and red ribbon. Then with her maid in tow, the two of them walked all the way to Hyde Park. If she was going to lay about and mope over the absent Lord Atten, she needed to get her exercise somehow. A nice walk around Hyde Park would surely do her confusing spirits much good. There was a considerable amount to think of, and some things needed a lot more thinking than others.

  However, after a good half hour of continuous thoughts, Charity was still as muddled as ever. It did not help that every time she watched a young gentleman with Lord Atten’s build drive past with a young lady, her heart did a somersault. Nor did it help that for no particular reason at all, the thought of his sweet kiss would flash through her mind. And every single time, the shock of his memory would cause her to stumble as she walked.

  However, during one of these flights of fancy, a man did indeed pull his gray horse to a stop and then turned back around. It would seem he was coming directly toward her! Charity took a few steps back and bumped into her maid. The girls stood there with their mouths agape as the gentleman halted right before them. He dismounted and took off his hat, and yet it was not until he stood from his short bow did Charity truly recognize Lord Atten.

  “It is you!” She gasped. Her heart began to be
at wildly as those remarkable eyes glittered into hers. How she wished she was miles away—how she wished she were so very much closer. Heaven help her, he was, incredibly, more handsome in the daylight than the evening hours.

  “Oddly enough, for weeks I have ridden past this fascinating young miss who wore a bright red chemise through Hyde Park. Little did I know I would find my very own Miss Waite the young lady who had captured my attention for so long.”

  Charity broke off the intense gaze, and her poor eyes could not decide what to settle on. The grass, the walkways, the trees—anything but the pure strength of Everett Atten. “I am not your Miss Waite.”

  “Are you sure of that? You seem too greatly flustered in my presence to be considered detached from my person.”

  Ooh! Her eyes met his again. Try as she might, she could not muster up enough gall to be even mildly offended by the dolt. “I—you—we—”

  “Yes?” He had the audacity to chuckle.

  Unfortunately, Charity could not resist the grin he gave at her discomfort. Without half realizing what was happening, she smiled in return. “You are shameless to laugh at me.” Oh, how she missed him!

  “Am I?” He shrugged. “Well, I’ve been called worse.”

  “I have no doubt of that!” She gave a small smirk and then glanced away.

  In less than a heartbeat, he was standing next to her. His arm was out, and she could scarcely breathe. “Would you care to walk with me? Just to that little bend up there and back. Would that be so very awful? I will tie General to a tree, and your maid can sit right here on this bench nearby and watch our every move. What say you?”

  “I—well, I feel a bit baffled at the moment.”

  “Do you?” He grinned again. “Perhaps it is good for you to feel a little out of sorts.”

  Charity looked down at his awaiting arm, and then over to her maid. “I suppose it would not be too awful for us to do so. There is something I wish to speak to you about anyhow.”