Games of Desire for Lady Hellion: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Read online

  “And she smells too much of powder,” Celine said with a conspiratorial nod.

  “She does,” Diana said with a snort. “Now, come, let’s see Father before we leave. I’m sure he’ll have a word or two to say.”

  “Do you think he will come?” Celine said, suddenly hopefully.

  “No, Celine,” Diana said sadly. “I’ve told you before. He won’t go to any soirees anymore. He is—” she trailed off, searching for the right words and finding none.

  “Not even for my coming out?” Diana shook her head.

  “No, I’m sorry, Celine. I don’t know what he’s punishing himself for, but there’s certainly something. He barely even leaves the house these days.”

  “I know you’ve told me before,” Celine said, “but I was really hoping something might change before tonight.”

  “I know,” Diana said, pulling her sister in for a hug. “But you must remember that it isn’t you. He has his own issues that we are not privy too, that’s all.”

  “So I am to have no one at my coming out,” Celine whispered into Diana’s ear. Diana hugged her tighter, even though she feared the action would knock her carefully arranged hair out of place.

  “Not no one, silly.” She pulled back and looked into Celine’s eyes. “We’re going to Aunt Edith’s house. And besides, you have me.”

  Chapter 4

  Henry waited in the entrance hall to wish his daughters a wonderful evening. His chest was full of fluttering nerves and the disbelief that his youngest was to be presented to society.

  Already. How time flies.

  He heard them come down the stairs and turned immediately to look at them. Something welled inside him. He so very badly wanted them to have a good life and the thought that they might miss out on that pained him in so many ways. He pressed his lips together, overcome with emotion, and he pushed that terrifying thought from his mind.

  Pride bubbled up through him until it swallowed his words, and he could only look, open-mouthed as they approached him. Their smiles, their beautiful faces. The way they looked in the gowns.

  So grown.

  He blinked away the threat of tears and he held himself a little taller as he turned to face them directly.

  “My beautiful daughters,” he said with a smile.

  “What do you think, Father?”

  Celine stepped down from the last stair and twirled so the air puffed up her skirt. She wore such a huge grin, and it made him feel as though he had at least done one thing right.

  “I—” Henry was speechless in his awe.

  “Do you think I will make a good impression at the ball ?” she asked, a little shy with him. Henry swallowed back his tears.

  “They will love you, My Darling Girl,” he said, “just as I do.” He looked softly at her, then held his arms open to her. She approached him, put her arms around his shrinking waist, and held tight.

  “I love you, Father,” she whispered in his ear. “I wish you were well enough to join us.”

  “And I,” he replied sadly, “but I—”

  “I know,” she said. “You cannot. It’s all right.”

  He could see his eldest daughter, Diana, waiting patiently on the steps, Cocoa yapping and running around her feet. She did not look quite as daring as her sister, instead choosing a simple and modest gown, but that was right. This was Celine’s time to shine, to be the center of attention.

  Despite that, as he pulled away from Celine and looked at Diana, he could see how beautiful she looked in her simplicity and it took his breath away. She looked demure, kind, happy even, and he couldn’t have been prouder. She was so like her mother, feisty and determined, and she cared for him in the same way his wife had.

  For them to be so similar was wonderful, and yet it was bittersweet. Sometimes, it felt as though his wife had never left them, but at other times seeing Diana reminded him of how lonely and broken hearted he was.

  But I deserve that punishment for the wrongs I have done in my life.

  “You look beautiful, too, Diana.”

  “Thank you, Father,” she said, smiling at him, but she did not approach.

  “I wish you both the most wonderful of evenings,” he said, his eyes sparkling with sadness and pride and love. “And I hope you meet many wonderful people.” He looked up at Diana then and looked at her meaningfully. “At least try?”

  She nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

  “Of course I will, Father. I wish to find my one true love as much as you wish it, believe me.”

  Once they had left, he sat on the bottom step with a sigh. It felt almost like a final goodbye, and Henry couldn’t quash the feeling of unease he felt.

  Is it simply because they are no longer girls?

  He pulled Cocoa onto his lap.

  “Looks like it’s just me and you, dog,” he said, and Cocoa leapt up, his little tongue just meeting Henry’s nose. Henry laughed, although sadly, then he stood and made his way to the drawing room, the dog yapping after him.

  At sixty years old, Henry knew what it was to live a life of regret and of guilt, and how not heeding warnings in your youth could ruin your old age. He understood, too, the pain of a lonely life, since his dear and beautiful wife had died.

  His once-plump frame had shrunk to skin and bones, his nightly wanderings and his refusal to eat full and fatty meals leaving him wraith like. His hair had prematurely grayed, and his skin sagged around his tired eyes. Where once he had been fat on life and laughter, now he wasted away to nothing in misery and guilt.

  “Miller,” Henry said, seeing the butler refilling the decanters in the drawing room. “It’s good to see you here.”

  Cocoa dashed into the room and leapt immediately onto the sofa, and Henry smiled at just how pampered the pooch had become.

  “My Lord,” Miller said, bowing as he spoke. “Would you like a brandy, Sir?”

  “Please,” Henry said, then took a seat next to the dog, allowing Cocoa plenty of space. “My girls have gone. All grown up and ready to fly away.”

  Miller walked over to him and handed him the brandy—a large measure, as Henry liked—and then he eyed Henry as though to gauge his mood.

  “It is a shame you could not join them, My Lord.”

  “Indeed, but you know I rarely leave the house these days.”

  “Yes,” Miller said, “it is unfortunate.”

  He feigned organizing the drinks cabinet, and Henry knew he did it for his sake. Although he was the butler, Miller was the closest thing to a friend that Henry had anymore, and he found himself talking to him often. Miller would not allow himself to stop and sit, to chat, but he recognized when Henry needed to talk and for that, Henry was endlessly grateful.

  “Unfortunate it may be, but it is a situation of my own making. Had I not made so many mistakes in life, I would be free of the guilt that binds me now.”

  He looked sadly first at the dog and then at Miller, and Miller cleared his throat.

  “Indeed, My Lord,” he said, avoiding Henry’s gaze. He pushed the decanters to the side of the cupboard, then picked up glasses and arranged them, too.

  “I dearly hope my Diana does not also live a life of regret. I fear if she does not find a suitor soon, she will be faced with a life like mine.”

  “She is sure to find someone soon, My Lord. She is a beautiful young lady.”

  “She is certainly a good match for any man, if only she could find a way to allow herself the delights of marriage. I’d offer a good dowry, too.” Henry drank back his brandy, then held the empty glass out to Miller. Miller took it to refill.

  “Indeed, she is, My Lord.”

  “Oh Miller,” Henry said with a sigh. He took his fresh glass of brandy in one hand, then stretched over and buried the fingers of his other hand in Cocoa’s thick fur. “My nightmares haunt me still. How I wish I could sleep, if just for a little while.”

  “Shall I ask Cook to prepare a draught?” Miller asked.

  “I suppose so,” Henr
y said, although the draughts never worked. Still he ended up wandering the corridors at night and dreading the outside world by day. “Perhaps tonight it will work to put my hauntings to rest.”

  Isaac arrived at the ball early, as was his habit. He detested lateness in all its forms and being early allowed him to watch the others arrive. He looked around, a slight furrow on his brow, as he twisted the ring on his forefinger. Around him, the early revelers had already begun to dance, and he watched as colorful gowns were swirled around, and gentleman spoke with a laugh on their lips.

  It was a large room, and the crowd was sure to be big enough that he would be able to lose himself, should the need arise. As a general rule, he did not enjoy balls. The attention, he found, was a little overwhelming, and just the thought of dancing all night made him tired. And yet he attended them still. For propriety’s sake.

  He would much prefer a quiet night in, perhaps curled up with a novel and pretending the rest of the world did not exist. He chewed on his bottom lip, and looked at each guest in turn, searching for Lady Celine. If he had to be here, he would at least do his duty and then leave as soon as he could.

  Except she is not yet here.

  Relief flooded through him and he felt curiously thankful. He knew the importance of their plan, and he wanted to please Thomas, too. He cared for his brother deeply and Thomas had been too bitter and sad for far too long. Isaac wanted to see him succeed, become a valued member of society, and he would do what was required for that to come to fruition. But he did not enjoy being the pawn, and he liked less doing the deed.

  Although perhaps it is better to get it over with sooner.

  With a sigh, he made his way to the seating area where a servant walked around, a tray of drinks in hand. He wore a smile on his face, and he did his job remarkably well.

  “Whisky, please,” Isaac said, watching as the servant moved around the area with ease and skill.

  He knocked it back in one gulp, hoping to allay his nerves. He was not normally such a big drinker, but as the ball had approached, he found himself more and more in need of a shot of courage. He took a deep breath and turned back to the room, his eyes scanning for any lady who seemed to be the center of attention.

  Chapter 5

  “Goodness, I’m shaking,” Celine said with a laugh. The coach trundled through the streets of London, rattling over the cobbles. It was late and so the streets were quiet, but for those on their way to a ball or soiree. The castle in which the ball would take place was not too far, but all through the ride the girls chattered with excitement.

  “Why are you shaking?” Diana asked, a touch of concern in her voice. “Are you cold?”

  “No, Silly. I’m nervous. And excited. Goodness, I’m everything, actually.” She laughed again, and Diana laughed with her.

  “It is an exciting evening,” Diana said, and she felt for the first time that that was true.

  She decided to put aside her desire to find love, and her father’s pressure to find a suitor. If her true love happened to be at the ball, then things would work out well. If not, she would enjoy her sister’s coming out all the same. Celine deserved a night of happiness, and Diana would do all she could to give it to her.

  “So,” Celine said with sparkling eyes, “if your one true love is at the ball—”

  “If,” Diana warned.

  “Yes, yes.” Celine waved away her negativity. “If he is there, what do you think he will look like?”

  Diana laughed.

  “Does love have a look?” she asked. “I do not think it matters what he looks like, as long as he is kind and strong and brave. And of course, if he works hard. Oh, and that we can talk all day and night without end and without tiring.”

  “Indeed,” Celine laughed. “They are all wonderful things. But I do not doubt that you have thought about his appearance before. Doesn’t every girl dream of what her husband will look like? Come, Diana, be honest with me.”

  Diana eyed her sister for a moment, uncertain. To talk so frankly seemed disingenuous, impolite even, but what harm could it do with her sister?

  “All right,” she said with a smirk, giving in. “He would have to be tall—taller than me, certainly. And I think black hair, rather than blond.”

  “And definitely not gray,” Celine interjected with a laugh. Diana laughed too.

  “Goodness, no. Not gray. No more than, say five-and-thirty.”

  “No, definitely not. And blue eyes.” Celine held her hands to her chest and looked up to the sky, feigning a swoon. “How I adore blue eyes. Like the ocean. Like a warm summer’s sky.”

  “No,” Diana said, shaking her head. “No blue eyes for me. A nice deep brown that I could gaze into over dinner. Now that will be perfect.”

  “All right, all right,” Celine said, holding her hands up in surrender. “So tonight, I shall keep my eye out for any tall gentlemen with dark hair and brown eyes, who is kind and hard-working and brave.”

  “You will do no such thing,” Diana said with a gasp. “I am quite capable of finding my own suitor, should he be there, thank you very much.” She eyed her sister, a smile playing on her lips. “Besides, it is your night, not mine. I shall keep a look out for you.”

  The ball was held in a castle on the outskirts of London, borrowed by their Aunt Edith for the occasion. Despite living far away from London, Edith had sworn she would see the youngest girl properly shown out, and not merely ignored by a father who could no long face society. They still hadn’t seen their Aunt Edith, all the arrangements having been made by letter, but Celine was grateful to her all the same.

  As their coach pulled up outside, the footman helped the ladies climb down before taking it out of sight, past the long line of waiting carriages.

  “Heavens,” Celine said, her eyes wide with fascination. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s truly wonderful.”

  Diana smiled. She remembered her first ball, and she had had a similar reaction. Their home was so sparse compared to most, and balls tended to be in the more elaborate houses. As she looked around the grounds of the castle, she saw again what Celine saw, and she took in the awe of it as well.

  The walls were huge and, just as in the story books, they were lined with castellations. All around them, candles flickered—from walls and in windows and lining the entrance way. Lined up in the driveway were what looked to Diana to be hundreds of coaches, and in between, horses were brushed and fed and tended as they waited.

  Closer to the door, servants lined the pathway—all in identical suits, all wearing identical expressions, looking ahead as though they did not even know anyone had arrived. As they passed, the footmen did not even look at them, and Celine giggled in Diana’s ear.

  “It is really quite majestic,” Diana said, then they walked together to the huge doors up the small set of steps.

  “They are like statues,” Celine said. Diana chuckled too, but she shushed her sister.

  “You must behave like a lady,” she said, and she saw Celine straighten her face immediately.

  At the entrance, the Master of Ceremonies took their names and titles, his voice deep but firm, his dress immaculate.

  “Lady Celine Allen,” Celine said, a little too quickly, and both he and Diana looked at her in surprise. “It’s my coming out,” she said.

  “Celine,” Diana said under her breath, but the Master of Ceremonies only smiled.

  “I am quite sure I have never before seen a man stand so straight,” Celine whispered to her sister. “Do you suppose he has a rod in his jacket?”

  “Goodness no,” Diana whispered back, both chiding and laughing at the same time. “I do not think he has a rod in his jacket, Celine. Now please, behave like the lady you are supposed to be, or I shall regret having suggested you for coming out so soon.”

  “So soon? I’m eight-and-ten!”

  “Well,” Diana said, “Yes, but…you know what I am saying.”

  “You are quite right,” Celine said, trying despe
rately to keep the grin from her face. “I am sorry, Diana Dear. It’s just all so exciting.”

  They followed the footman through the winding corridors of the castle after handing each of them a dance card. The walls were bare, the gray stone cold, but it was intriguing all the same. Diana looked about her, never having visited this castle before.

  They finally arrived at the ballroom, situated on the ground floor but quite in the middle of the building, meaning it had not a single window. The doors to the room, though, were almost as grand as the entrance to the castle, and as they stood outside the door, Diana grasped hold of Celine’s hand, giving it a squeeze.