Marrying her Best-Friend (The Seymour Siblings Book 3) Page 7

  Will cocked his head and smirked. “You are not even aware of how lovelorn you sound, are you?”

  “I am not discussing this with you any longer,” Carson muttered and stood from the table. “Can you direct me to where I would find your sister, please?”

  “She’s in the library, but I do not suggest that you go there.”

  “And why not?”

  “She may hurl a book at your head.”

  Carson gaped at his friend. “And why would she do such a thing?”

  “Perhaps because she has been in a hostile and angry mood since she found out about your meeting with Miss Violet,” Will answered nonchalantly and shrugged. “Or perhaps it is something else that upset her. My sister remains a mystery. You, of all people, should be aware of this.”

  Carson’s jaw clenched. “I shall not be long.”

  “If you have not returned by sunset, I will assume my sister strangled you.”

  Carson pursed his lips and his brow furrowed. But rather than give Will the satisfaction of seeing him react, he simply nodded at his friend and left the terrace.

  Will was well-known for being a jokester, but Carson wasn’t certain if he was serious with regards to Lizzie this time. He was unsure why she would be so angry, but perhaps she would be courageous enough to tell him.

  Carson stopped in front of the doors of the library and hesitated for a moment. He was not certain why, but he felt the need to practice extreme caution.

  As he opened the door, it was quiet. He slowly walked along the length of the large room.

  “What are you doing here?” He suddenly heard Lizzie’s voice echo through the library.

  He whirled around. She stood across the room, holding a thick book in her hands, staring at him.

  “I was visiting with Will and I thought I would speak with you for a moment,” Carson answered and carefully approached her. “Although your brother advised me not to. Will said you were in a bit of a mood.”

  “Oh, is that what he said?” Lizzie snapped and slammed the book shut quite forcibly.

  “Indeed,” Carson answered, eyeing her red cheeks and clenched hands. “Why are you so angry, my lady?”

  “I am not angered by anything, or anyone, for that matter,” Lizzie answered and turned away from him.

  “That is a lie. I can see that you’re upset.”

  Which was unusual form Lizzie. She wore her heart on her sleeve and didn’t usually hide her feelings from anyone. Especially not him.

  “You know nothing about me, Carson,” Lizzie muttered.

  Well, that was an out and out lie.

  “Lizzie, I am not certain what is the matter, but if you can merely tell me—”

  “I do not see the point in doing such a thing, Mr. Wallace.”

  “Could you please refrain from this formality, Lizzie, and talk with me?” Carson asked. “You and I have always been able to speak to one another openly. Why can you not tell me what is the matter now?”

  “You will not understand,” Lizzie stated simply.

  “Should you not leave that decision up to me?” Carson inquired.

  Lizzie glanced at him and shook her head. “I do not wish to speak about this any longer, and I certainly do not wish to keep you from things, or people who are more important to you.”

  “Lizzie, is this about Miss Violet?” Carson inquired and stepped closer.

  Lizzie whirled around to face him, her eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t you dare utter that woman’s name in my presence!”

  “That certainly confirms my suspicions. You promised me that you were not upset with me meeting with Miss Violet,” Carson pointed out.

  “I am well aware of what I said, Carson. And I am not upset. I wish you all the happiness in the world,” Lizzie muttered bitterly.

  “You do not mean that.”

  Lizzie opened her mouth to speak, but she hesitated.

  Carson could clearly see that something was weighing heavily on her mind, but she didn’t wish to say it. “Tell me what is in your heart, Lizzie. Please. I beg you.”

  “I cannot, as my words would be cruel, and you do not deserve anything but kindness.”

  “Lizzie, please...”

  “Carson, perhaps you should leave. I do not wish to hurl a book at your head.”

  Carson’s brow furrowed and he nodded slowly. “Perhaps one day you will understand why I came here this afternoon to speak with you. It was never my intention to have a wedge placed between us by any other woman.”

  “It is not merely any other woman. Of all the young ladies in Somerset, why did Adrienne insist on introducing you to Miss Violet? Have you asked her this question? Of course, you didn’t, because you are a man. And men do not think about how manipulative women can be. Women do things and say things for a reason, not simply because they are emotional or in a mood.”

  “Then what is the reason that you are pushing me away? Are you afraid to lose me if I marry Miss Violet?” Carson inquired.

  “Not in the least, Carson, as I cannot lose something I never had to begin with,” Lizzie said.

  “I could say precisely the same thing,” Carson muttered softly before he turned away and left the library.

  Carson had never truly understood women, how their minds worked or how they were ruled by their emotions.

  It was obvious to him now that women were not to be fully understood, and Lizzie was living proof of that. She had not given him a clear answer as to why she was upset and kept him at a distance.

  He could guess of course... but he wasn’t sure that would be good for either of them.

  Chapter Eleven.

  Lizzie stretched her legs as she turned the page of the book she was reading, beams of sunlight shining through her window and warming her. She was comfortably nestled on a large pillow on the floor, quietly enjoying the book, desperate to forget about her troubles with Carson.

  She had not seen, nor heard from him in over a week. And despite her heart being shattered into a million tiny shards, she’d convinced herself that it was for the best. She wouldn’t be doing herself any favours if she kept dwelling on the past, and things she’d once wished for.

  She had to move on with her life and forget about Carson. Perhaps she should do what Emma had done, and go on a journey to discover herself.

  Perhaps she would meet a charming man who spoke with an Irish or Scottish accent. A man who’d know nothing of the rumours of Somerset. A man who would only know the real her.

  She could even change her name to something else and turn over a new leaf.

  A soft knock on the door broke her concentration and she glanced up from her book. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Kitty and Emma.”

  Lizzie pouted as she retrieved a pressed wildflower – given to her by her father before he passed – and used it as a bookmark. She closed the book and placed it down beside her. “Come in.”

  Lady Kitty and the duchess appeared in the doorway with hopeful smiles, and Lizzie immediately knew something was brewing between them.

  “My lady, Your Grace,” Lizzie greeted them formally with a furrowed brow. “Is something the matter?”

  “Indeed,” Emma said. “I have only been here at the estate for a week, and I already feel as though the walls are closing in on me.”

  “I certainly am familiar with the feeling,” Lizzie mumbled.

  “That is good news, certainly, as Kitty and I would like to invite you to accompany us to the tearoom this afternoon,” Lady Emma said with a smile and fluttering lashes. “Please agree to join us.”

  “It doesn’t sound like something I would enjoy,” Lizzie answered with a cringe. “But you are most encouraged to have a lovely time.”

  “But you must join us, Lizzie. It would be a good thing for you to interact with other women once more. By now all the rumours have been put to rest, and no one gives a fig about it.”

  “Indeed,” Kitty uttered in agreement. “They are all too busy gossiping about Lady
Augustine, who had an affair with Lord Franklin.”

  “A married man?” Lizzie gasped. Then she realized quickly that she had fallen for the bait that Lady Emma and the duchess had so deviously laid out for her.

  Emma and Kitty grinned with satisfaction and Lady Emma , “Please join us. It will be a delightful afternoon.”

  Lizzie bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly. “Very well, but I do not wish to hear a single word about Carson and Miss Violet.”

  “Who?” Emma asked with a frown and mock confusion.

  The three women giggled with amusement, which lightened Lizzie’s heart.

  Within the hour, Lizzie, Emma and Kitty were dressed in their best day dresses, and on their way into town. The coach travelled slowly along the road towards the tearoom, and a strange feeling filled the pit of Lizzie’s stomach.

  She hadn’t gone to the tearoom for a very long while, even before her intoxicated evening at Lord and Lady Wealing’s ball. Once the terrible rumours concerning her and Lord Dorset began to circulate, she had withdrawn from most social events. Unfortunately, many of her “true friends” had shown their true colours over the past months. And although she was grateful to know the truth about them, it still hurt, nonetheless.

  However, she was feeling anxious about being in those same women’s presence once again. She’d be forced to pretend that nothing was the matter and that she had moved on from what had happened.

  Emma and Kitty attempted to casually converse in the coach, hoping to make Lizzie feel at ease, but the atmosphere was still strained.

  As soon as the coach came to a halt, Lizzie’s heart pounded in her chest, her body frozen.

  “Are you all right, Lizzie?” Emma inquired, reaching her hand out Lizzie.

  She drew in a breath and nodded. “I am perfectly fine. You need not worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

  “I agree. We are all tougher than the world thinks we are,” Kitty stated.

  The three women climbed out of the coach and made their way across the street towards the tearoom. The bright green paint on the doorframe and the window frames was inviting, and it still appeared to look the same as the last time Lizzie had been there. As they stepped inside, Emma placed a reassuring hand on Lizzie’s arm, which Lizzie appreciated more than she was able to express in words.

  They entered the large room with tables scattered strategically around, women of all ages chattering happily, sipping their tea and nibbling on cakes, fruits, and pastries that were available. Lizzie exhaled slowly, as she hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath the entire time. She felt light-headed.

  Then, the ladies in the room began to notice Lizzie’s presence and their voices lowered into whispers. The whispers Lizzie had grown accustomed to, but despised, nevertheless. The humming sound of the whispers intensified, but it had no effect on Emma or Kitty, who sauntered to an open table, which had been reserved for them. It was certainly one of the benefits of being part of the Seymour family.

  Once seated at the table, the proprietress of the tearoom, Miss Abigail Roslin, approached. “Good afternoon, Your Grace, my ladies. How are you all this wonderful afternoon?”

  “Simply marvellous, although the journey here made us quite parched,” the duchess answered.

  “The usual?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Miss Roslin nodded and hurried away from the table as hastily as she had approached it.

  “My lady, and Your Grace,” Lizzie said with a smile, “I do apologize for being rather withdrawn the past week. I had a few personal issues that required my attention. I didn’t mean to be rude or not spend time with you both. But I am glad I decided to join you today. It is quite lovely.”

  “Indeed. They serve the most scrumptious cakes.” Kitty grinned and placed her hand on her swollen stomach. “At least the child will be happy and well-fed.”

  Lizzie chuckled at the duchess in amusement. Miss Roslin and a maidservant approached, then placed the large plates of delicious baked treats in the centre of the table. The maidservant quietly poured the tea, and once again moved away.

  Lizzie sipped the tea and she sighed softly. “That is certainly is delicious. What blend is that?”

  “I am not too certain. Miss Roslin creates her own special blends in the garden behind the tearoom. It is utterly delicious, and I have inquired quite a few times, but she refuses to give away her secret formula,” Emma said with a shrug.

  “Rightfully so. It is her hard work and her creation. She cannot simply give it to just anyone,” Kitty shrugged.

  They continued to speak of delightful things. Emma’s wedding on the ship on its course to Denmark, the progress of Kitty’s child’s nursery, and although Lizzie only spoke sporadically, she truly enjoyed being in their company.

  Then the whispers started once more, and when she heard a high-pitched giggle, the hairs on the back of her neck rose in agitation. Lizzie would recognize that laugh anywhere. She drew in a deep breath and allowed her gaze to shift to her left, her eyes narrowing as she gazed into the dark, beady eyes of Miss Violet.

  Violet glared at her for a moment until she turned back to the young lady who sat beside her and rolled her eyes dramatically as she spoke. Lizzie immediately heard her name being mentioned, and her jaw clenched.

  “Ignore her. She is annoying and does not deserve any reaction from you,” the duchess stated.

  Lizzie nodded and turned away from the sight of Miss Violet, but even for a while afterward, she still heard her name on Miss Violet’s lips. With every passing moment, Lizzie’s anger and agitation towards Miss Violet grew.

  “Perhaps it was not such a good idea to come here,” Lizzie muttered.

  “Nonsense,” Emma said. “She doesn’t own the tearoom, or the town, for that matter.”

  “She does, however, seem to have the entire town wrapped around her finger for some inexplicable reason,” Lizzie muttered.

  Emma scoffed and suddenly raised a brow as her gaze shifted to her right.

  “Good afternoon, Your Grace,” Miss Violet’s piercing voice at their table caused Lizzie to cringe. “My lady, and the town whore.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Lizzie exclaimed and stood from her chair.

  “I do not believe I spoke unclearly in any manner,” Miss Violet said with her nose stuck in the air. “You are rather brave to think that it is appropriate for you to come here. This is a civilised place for ladies of class.”

  “If that’s so, what are you doing here, Violet?” Lizzie snapped.

  Miss Violet laughed, pretending to be amused and crossed her arms. “You are utterly amusing. But it doesn’t surprise me, you are the joke of Somerset. No one wishes to have you anywhere near them, and I don’t blame them in the least. Wives are afraid that you will cast your claws into their husbands, and mothers are hiding their sons as a result of your despicable behaviour.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Emma interjected, “but you cannot speak to Lizzie in such a manner.”

  “Need I remind you that I am the daughter of the chief magistrate and if you speak to me once more with such disrespect, then you will leave me no choice than to inform my father,” Miss Violet hissed.

  Emma, who was known for never backing away from a fight, stepped closer to the young woman and glared. “And what could your father possibly do to me? Arrest me?”

  “That would be based on false claims and he could most certainly lose his position as chief magistrate,” the duchess pointed out.

  Miss Violet narrowed her eyes and muttered, “Is that a threat, Your Grace?”

  “We are only returning the courtesy you bestowed onto us,” Emma answered and cocked her head. “And need I remind you that badmouthing is not an attractive trait for a woman to have. We would not wish for you to grow old alone, would we?”

  “You know nothing of me—”

  “And we shall keep it that way.” Emma nodded with satisfaction.

  “Suit yourself. Enjoy the company of
that whore,” Miss Violet simpered.

  Emma grabbed Miss Violet by the sleeve of her dress and the young woman shrieked with panic. “Allow me to make something absolutely clear. Lizzie is not a whore, and if you continue to spread lies about her, you will live to regret it, Violet Saunders.”

  Miss Violet’s eyes widened, and she pursed her lips.

  “And that applies to all of you,” Kitty announced as she stood up, claiming the attention of the entire group of women in the tearoom. “Lizzie is many things, but she is not a light-skirted woman. She does carry the scarlet letter on her breast, and she need not be judged by any of you, as I am well aware of what many of you ladies do when you think the world is not watching. Lizzie is a good person and anyone who conjures a story purely for sensation will have to deal with me. I will not allow the admonishment of her reputation at the hand of hypocritical people.”

  The silence inside the tearoom was deafening, and tension hung thickly in the air.

  “Is that clear?” Emma snarled.

  Miss Violet backed away, like a scared little rabbit.

  Lizzie sat quietly, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d never asked the duchess or Lady Emma to defend her so ferociously, but it certainly meant the world to her that they did. And so openly.

  “Right,” Lady Emma muttered and turned to Lizzie and the duchess with a smile. “Shall we return to the estate?”

  Chapter Twelve.

  Carson was convinced he would certainly never be able to fully understand how female logic worked, it would only be a waste of energy and effort. Women were the ultimate mysteries of the world, and men who claimed to understand them were most certainly delusional.

  He tapped his fingers on the leather armrest of his favourite chair, staring out in front of him. The estate had been quiet – much to Carson’s delight – and he relished in the silence, attempting to quiet the muddle inside his mind.

  Lizzie’s behavior and words puzzled him, and he didn’t understand why on earth she was upset with him. He could understand that she didn’t wish for him to marry Miss Violet. Lizzie was obviously convinced that they were not a good match.