The Return of Lord Avondale (London Season Matchmaker 1) - Page 11

Jeremy turned towards a thin, waspish looking lady who was clad in a gown of emerald green which did not seem to suit her pale complexion and fair hair at all. Bowing politely, he took the lady’s presented hand as he did so, wondering when Lord Porter had wed.

“Delighted to meet such a dear friend of Lord Porter’s,” Lady Porter said, her voice high and thin. “Although you have not been in town for some years, I understand.”

Jeremy let go of Lady Porter’s hand and nodded, seeing her pale grey eyes settle on his. He found that he did not quite take to Lady Porter, surprised at how very different she appeared to be from Lord Porter.

“No, I have been at my estate,” he said, quietly, not wanting to hide the truth from anyone. “My dear wife died, unfortunately, soon after we wed and I found myself in mourning. I am only released from it recently and, as such, sought a little company in London.”

Lord Porter’s jolly smile faded at once and he set a firm hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, his eyes troubled.

“I did not know, old boy,” he stated, quietly. “I heard a rumor that you were wed but nothing came of it that I knew. Of course, I should have written to you or the like but I found myself rather tied up in courtship and all that goes with it.” He sent a sidelong glance to Lady Porter who, much to Jeremy’s astonishment, blushed faintly. Apparently there was some sort of attraction between husband and wife, which Jeremy would never have expected.

“I chose not to announce my marriage,” Jeremy replied, honestly. “Being a Duke, as you know, can bring a good deal of interest from others in whatever one does.” He shrugged, knowing that Lord Porter could well understand, given that he bore a high title also. “My Duchess, however, passed away only a few months into our marriage.”

Lord Porter shook his head, his expression grave. “I am truly sorry, Lord Avondale,” he said quietly. “But you are returned to London, at least, and I must hope that you can, therefore, find a way out of your grief and back to some semblance of happiness.”

Jeremy nodded, appreciating his friend’s consideration. “Thank you, Porter. It has been some time since I have been in London and your welcome has certainly eased the transition back into society!”

Lord Porter chuckled, his somber aura lifting at once. “I fear that your arrival may soon be well known, Avondale,” he grinned. “For, as you say, you are a Duke and there will be a great deal of interest in your presence here this evening. By tomorrow, the news of your return will be all around London and you shall have invitations pouring through your door.”

Jeremy grimaced, well aware that this would occur and finding that, as he had done some years ago during his visits to London, the thought did not fill him with any sort of delight. He did not want to garner any sort of attention from anyone other than Eliza, although that was, of course, quite impossible.

“I should allow you to greet the rest of your guests,” he murmured, making to step away. “Good evening, Lord Porter, Lady Porter. I am sure I shall have a most enjoyable evening.”

Lord Porter grinned and nodded, before turning to another guest, although Lady Porter’s eyes lingered on Jeremy’s for a moment longer. It was as though she were trying to discern what it was that saddened him so, as though she knew that the loss of his wife was not what was tearing his heart into small, jagged pieces.

Sighing inwardly, Jeremy turned back towards the rest of the guests who had already gathered in Lord Porter’s home, wondering if he knew anyone within. He did not expect to be quickly assailed by a young, red headed creature with glittering, emerald eyes.

“Lord Avondale!” the young lady exclaimed, one hand grasping his arm as she seemed to bounce up and down on her toes in front of him. “Oh, goodness, I am so very glad to see you. It has been some time, has it not?”

Jeremy frowned, trying to place her – only for the knowledge of who she was to strike him, hard. “Good gracious!” he exclaimed, taking a step back so that he might take her in completely. “Miss Titania Wells!”

She giggled, her eyes bright. “Indeed.”

It had only been two years since he had set eyes upon her last but in that time, she seemed to have blossomed from child to young woman. She was as feisty as ever, he realized with a smile, for what other young lady of the beau monde would simply hurry over to a gentleman and press their hand to his arm?

“You are out, I see,” he commented, her happy smile lifting his somber thoughts somewhat. “And enjoying society?”

“Of course,” she replied, grinning. “I am enjoying as much of it as I am able, although I cannot say the same for my other sisters, nor for my cousin.”

Jeremy allowed himself a soft chuckle, recalling how Miss Catherine Wells had often declared her dislike of town, of the highest fashions, of dancing and all such things. “I can imagine,” he said, making Titania laugh. “Although I am glad that you are all present now after what must have been a very difficult time for you all.”

Titania’s expression clouded. “It was, yes,” she stated, honestly. “Although I believe Eliza found it a good deal more trying than the rest of us.” Her eyes fixed upon his, allowing him no room to escape. Jeremy had no doubt about what Miss Titania was trying to say, shame bursting through his chest almost immediately.

“I am well aware of the part I have had to play in her distress,” he said, softly, not wishing to deny it in any way. “I wish that I could make amends in some way, that I might be permitted to explain, but she will not allow it. And I cannot and will not force her to do so.”

Titania considered this, looking at him steadily. Jeremy allowed her to do so without interrupting her thoughts, seeing a light flickering in her eyes.

“You are very good not to force your will upon her,” Titania said, eventually. “Although I did hear that you burst into our drawing room without any introduction!”

Jeremy flushed and looked away. “That, Miss Wells, you may put down to my desperation to see your sister,” he replied, truthfully. “But I will not allow myself to be so hot headed again.”

“Oh, but if only you would!” Titania exclaimed, surprising him. “I am quite certain that my dear sister cares for you very deeply still, Lord Avondale, but such is her grief and hurt that she had allowed it to cloud the truth of what she feels. Although…” She tipped her head to the left, her eyes narrowing. “Although, I must admit that I was greatly distressed to hear what you had done, Lord Avondale. Is there some sort of reasonable explanation?”

“There is an explanation, of course,” Jeremy admitted. “The choice was not given to me. I had no other option but to marry another, even though my heart still belonged to Eliza. It belongs to her still.” He shrugged, looking away from Titania as his heart began to ache all over again. “If I had the chance to share with her the truth of my actions, then my guilt might be assuaged. I would not even dare to dream that I might have her in my arms again for I understand completely the gravity of what I have done, but it would settle my conscience to know that Eliza was aware of the truth of the matter.” A sudden thought had his heart leaping in his chest. “Is she here this evening?”

Titania’s dark look was gone, her bright smile back upon her face. “Of course,” she said, as though he ought to be filled with joy at the prospect. “Although Lord Montrose is here also.” A scowl bit at her features, sending her smile from her face. “I confess that I am not entirely certain of Lord Montrose.”

The moment Titania had told him that Eliza was present at Lord Porter’s small gathering, Jeremy had felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach before slamming back into his chest again, leaving his breathing ragged and his whole body alive with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Now, he stared at Titania, hardly able to take in what she was saying to him.

Tags: Lucy Adams London Season Matchmaker Historical
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