Prologue
Friday May 4th,
1810
Elliot
stepped into the ballroom and handed his card to the Major Domo and
waited anxiously while he was announced.
“The Honorable
Elliot Martineau,” the man intoned over the sounds of clinking
glasses, gossiping voices, and the orchestra playing a lively country
tune.
Elliot stepped into
the stifling ballroom and quickly scanned the room for the one person
he had come to see—Lady Felicity Pemberton. Just as his eyes found
her in the crowd her head turned, her eyes automatically finding his
as if some unseen force was drawing them together. He instinctively
smiled at her and watched as her face lit up in a radiant smile in
return, her emerald eyes sparkling brighter than the jewels hanging
from her throat. He reached her in three quick strides, bowing
slightly and offering her his arm as he led her out onto the dance
floor.
As if the fates
were aligned in his favor, the orchestra struck up a waltz and he
gathered Felicity into his arms as they began to move flawlessly
across the floor in perfect rhythm with one another.
Elliot studied her,
soaking up her magnificent beauty before asking, “Is your father in
attendance tonight?”
“He’s not, he
wasn’t feeling well, said something about eating a bad sausage.
Aunt Agatha accompanied me.”
Disappointment
mixed with relief overcame him. He had planned to talk to Lord
Pemberton this evening in regards to his desire to seek Felicity’s
hand in marriage. At twenty-five-years of age it was the first time
Elliot had ever seriously courted a lady but from the moment he had
met Felicity he knew that she was different. He had spent the last
four years sowing his wild oats knowing someday he’d have to settle
down and take a wife. His parents, the Viscount and Viscountess
Martineau had rarely ever pressured him to take a wife and produce an
heir, unlike most of the men of his acquaintance who were constantly
being badgered about their duties by their parents. He had always
considered himself lucky to not have that pressure heaped upon his
shoulders.
Felicity on the
other hand had been pressured to make an advantageous match from the
moment she debuted last season. Her father had practiced barely
concealed patience during her first season, allowing her the freedom
to entertain and decline what offers of courtship and marriage she
would, but now that it was her second season and she was eighteen, he
was getting more persistent that she make a match and make one
quickly.
Felicity knew that
her father had a penchant for partaking in numerous vices that
drained the limited resources he had remaining; from gambling to
setting up mistresses with expensive tastes. He had no intention to
downsize the lifestyle he was accustomed to living, instead seeing
his only child, his daughter as his salvation. Her marriage to a
wealthy gentleman would help set his own estate to rights and ensure
that his lavish lifestyle continued.
Felicity had been
fearful that her father would end up arranging a match for her before
she would have the chance to find somebody she loved; somebody she
could foresee spending the rest of her life with. She had grown up
watching her parent’s misery and had vowed she’d never willingly
enter into a similar situation. It may be naivety on her part, but
she had always dreamed of finding her one true love. She had almost
given up on that quest when she had had the good fortune to meet
Elliot Martineau. She had instantly been attracted to his virile good
looks; he was lean yet strong, with broad shoulders and perfectly
masculine hands that ended in long tapering fingers. His pale blue
eyes were in stark contrast to his dark hair and tanned skin. He had
high cheek bones and a straight aristocratic nose and when he smiled,
one dimple formed on the side of his perfectly sculpted lips. At the
appearance of that dimple, she had been ready to wed the man right
then and there.
Luckily for her,
she had soon learned that there was more to Elliot than just a
handsome face; he was warm, witty, charming and also in line to
become the next Viscount Martineau at his father’s death. She had
inquired and learned that his family had plenty of wealth and she
knew that would please her father enormously, for it was his one
requirement in her marriage. In short, he was everything she had ever
dreamed of and he was as interested in her as she was him.
Elliot’s grip on
her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to him. She felt the
familiar surge of electricity course through her veins at his touch,
a touch that she had craved instantaneously and that had never left
her disappointed. When the waltz ended, Elliot hadn’t let go of
her. She could see the reluctance in his eyes and wished that
proprieties didn’t dictate that they separate and find other dance
partners.
Finally Elliot let
her go. “Come stroll with me in the gardens, it’s quite stuffy in
here.”
Her head turned to
seek out her Aunt Agatha who had agreed to chaperone her in her
parent’s absence. Elliot quickly directed her towards the French
doors leading out to the gardens, “Don’t you dare ask your aunt
for permission to stroll through the gardens with me, you know she’d
be horrified and refuse you permission.”
“Don’t you give
a care for my reputation?”
Without looking at
her he replied, “Of course I do, but you know that if I ruined it I
would make it right by marrying you.”
Felicity inhaled
sharply, “Do you mean that?” She had stopped walking and stared
up into his face, searching it for answers.
“Of course I do,
haven’t I told you that I love you?” His smile was all at once
engaging and boyish and she thought her heart would burst with
happiness. Of course he hadn’t told her that he loved her before,
though she had suspected he had for some time now.
Before she could
respond he had grabbed her hand and was leading her off once more,
“As much as I wish it were, this isn’t the place to profess our
undying love. Let’s find somewhere more private where I can show
you how I feel.”
A secret thrill
shot through her heart at his words and she knew in that moment that
she would follow him anywhere, do anything for him.
Her hand
felt so small in his as he led her through mazes of trees and
shrubbery, eventually coming to a stop in front of a secluded
gardener’s cottage covered in crawling ivy that was quite far from
the main house. The small brick dwelling was dark and looked
abandoned though not neglected. Part of her was anxious to get back
to the ball, knowing her aunt would be furious if she noted her
absence but another, much larger part of her wanted to remain with
Elliot.
He leaned into her,
taking her face in his hands. “This is a much better place to talk
about our love.” He leaned in and kissed her reverently. Before she
had a chance to respond he pulled back and said, “Oh Felicity, I
love you so much.”
She reached up and
placed both hands on his chest, “I love you too, Elliot.”
He smiled at her as
he let out a low chuckle then scooped her into his arms and twirled
her around. He watched as she threw her head back and laughed. Her
milky skin was bathed in moonlight and he watched as a lock of ebony
hair came loose and slid down around her collarbone. He stopped
twirling her and let her feet slide back down to the ground,
steadying her before reaching for that stray lock of hair and
brushing it back from her skin. He leaned forward and placed a
lingering kiss to her collar, feeling the warmth of her satin skin
beneath his lips and inhaling her musky scent mixed with the jasmine
perfume she wore.
He cupped her waist
with his hands and slowly ran them up and down her rib cage, feeling
her slender frame beneath his hands. His lips moved slowly up her
throat scorching a path to her ear. When she reached up and coiled
her hands in his hair and pulled him back down to her décolletage he
groaned, knowing he had to have her, had to show her just how much he
loved her.
He removed one hand
from her body to reach back and jiggle the handle on the door of the
cottage. He was relieved when the door pushed open with a loud creek
and without separating himself from her, he managed to guide them
both into the dark confines of the house. She didn’t question him
or protest as he led her silently to the dark mass in the corner of
the small room which proved to be a bed. He guided her to lie down
beside him as he scooped her body into his and held her firmly
against him. Their lips found each other’s of their own accord,
giving and partaking with a hunger neither of them had ever known.
When one of Elliot’s
hands reached up and began unhooking the back of her gown Felicity
knew now was the time to stop him if she was going to, but instead of
protesting, she reached her arms out and allowed him to gently slip
her gloves from her hands followed next by her gown. There was no
turning back.
