The Footman and I - Valerie Bowman Page 0,79
He shrugged. “Or perhaps we have our reasons.”
“Reasons to lie to people?” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a condemning glare.
He folded his hands behind his back. “There’s a funny thing about not knowing people’s motives. It tends to make one assume the worst.”
Her eyes shot daggers at him. “Are you seriously going to attempt to blame me for Lord Kendall’s deception?”
“Absolutely not,” Lord Bellingham replied. “But I am going to tell you a story.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I want—”
“Oh, come now, Miss Wharton, everyone loves a good story.” He lowered himself to the chair next to her. “And this one is particularly interesting.”
She wanted to hate this man, too, but there was something oddly compelling about him. It was as if he’d never met a stranger and knew exactly what to say in any situation. She still didn’t trust him, of course, but she had to admit, if only to herself, that she was interested in hearing his story.
Lord Bellingham stretched his long legs out in front of him and settled into the chair as if the tale would be a lengthy one. “Once upon a time,” he began, “there was a decent young man, who was honorable, kind, and noble.”
Frances watched him carefully, her eyes still narrowed. She assumed he was talking about Lucas, but she wasn’t entirely certain.
“This young man was from a fine family. He was the second son who’d spent the majority of his life in the Royal Navy,” Lord Bellingham continued.
Very well, he wasn’t talking about Lucas. Lucas was an earl, not a second son, and she’d never heard a word about him being in the Navy.
“The young man worked hard and rose in the ranks. He became a Commander in the English Royal Fleet in the amount of time it takes most young men to become a sub-lieutenant.”
She raised her brows. A high-ranking officer? He couldn’t possibly be speaking of Lucas. Could he?
“As young men do, this particular young man fell in love with a beautiful young lady and he asked for her hand in marriage.”
Frances frowned. Surely, he was not speaking about Lucas. Lucas had never told her he’d been engaged to be married. Although Lucas had also never told her he was pretending to be a footman either, if one wanted to be precise about it.
“The wedding was set for Spring and most of the ton was invited. The young man was scheduled to return from the Navy on leave a fortnight before the wedding.”
“Are we speaking about you, Lord Bellingham?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
Instead of answering her, he merely cleared his throat. “On the night before he was to travel home for the wedding, the young man received a letter from his beloved.”
Frances found herself scooting toward the edge of her seat, leaning toward Lord Bellingham. “What happened?”
“The letter informed the young man that his betrothed had received a better offer, one from a man who was a first son, a baron.”
Frances gasped. “Don’t tell me.” She shook her head.
“She broke off the engagement and left the young man to come home and tell his family and all of the guests that there would not be a wedding after all.”
Frances snapped her mouth closed. “She sounds hideous,” she declared.
“She was, believe me,” Lord Bellingham replied, breaking off from his story for a moment.
“Then what happened?” Frances prompted. She was so anxious to hear the rest that she was tapping her slipper nervously against the rug.
“The young man came home, but the young lady had already married the baron. It was too late.”
“Are you quite serious?” Frances frowned and shook her head. “That is atrocious. But I say good riddance to bad baggage.”
“Indeed, that is what all of the young man’s friends said as well,” Lord Bellingham continued. “But the young man was heartbroken and began to feel as if his family connections and money were the only things that mattered to young ladies of the ton.”
“And?” She searched Lord Bellingham’s face.
“And so, the young man went back to the Navy and worked even more diligently. He rose to the rank of Commodore. And when he came home on leave, he refused to attend events of the ton, for he didn’t trust that he would ever find a true wife.” Lord Bellingham cocked his head to the side and scratched the back of his neck.
Frances continued to frown. “Is that the end? If so, that’s an awful story.”
“There is a bit more,”