Victorian Phantoms
Summary: Rebellious Lady Ella Heaton wants an adventure before she's forced to marry. When she meets Jon, a handsome smuggler she finds her adventure and the man she wants to marry. If only her father would approve…
Ella Heaton
Prologue
June 1844 – London
People were everywhere. Ladies dressed in every colour imaginable twirled about on the dance floor. There was a constant buzz of conversation, which was broken by the occasional giggle. One could be forgiven for thinking he or she was at a duchess' soirée…or perhaps even a debutante's come-out party. No, it was just a regular ball hosted by a mere baroness. Tonight's ball was just like any other grand ball that had been hosted since April with the same music, dances, food and people.
Surveying the sea of people before her with a barely concealed expression of boredom, Lady Ella Heaton longed to run back to her home in Cornwall. She wanted to be far away from the rules and strictures of London Society. In Cornwall, one could say what one thought! One could ride in the early hours of the morning and was not expected to be a frail creature.
"You have been glaring furiously at Lady Lipsey's skirts for the past five minutes," Ives said with a smile as she slipped into the chair beside Ella. She wiggled her sore toes beneath the hem of her ball gown. "What is the matter, dear?"
Ella shrugged a shoulder.
"Are you already tiring of London? You have been here for little more than a month!"
Ella nodded. "I thought it would be exciting to have my come-out, Ivy. It has been dull as ditch water. Everyday you take breakfast in bed, call on acquaintances, take tea, drive at a snail's pace through the park, go to dinner, go to a ball, retire in the wee hours of the morning. Then you do the same thing the next day!" she finished in a disgusted tone.
Ives laughed at her sister's accurate observation of London society and squeezed her shoulder. "You really must not be so hard on Society, Ellie. It is not as bad as all that."
"It is!" She sighed and maintained a petulant silence for a while. "I want an adventure before I am forced to marry and become the image of respectability."
With a look of surprise, Ives grasped Ella's hand. "Ella Katherine Heaton, you must promise not to do anything stupid! I can understand your desire to do something to remember for the rest of your life, but-"
"Do you?" Ella interrupted softly.
"But you need to make sure that you do not ruin your reputation, your innocence or the Heaton name," Ives continued as if Ella had never interrupted.
Ella crossed her arms and sulked. There it was again, someone telling her what she should or should not be doing. She was tired of being ordered around. Perhaps she would shock her family and set up her own establishment when she turned twenty-one. At least then she would be her own mistress and would not be forced to take orders from anyone.
"I don't want a boring marriage. I have always wanted to elope to Gretna Green," she confessed softly, her pale blue eyes bright with excitement.
"We all know that, Ellie, but it is not just about you," Ives responded sharply, her mother and peeress instincts coming to the fore.
Ella was about to tell her older sister precisely what she thought of her advice, but wisely held her tongue when she saw her brother-in-law making his way towards them with a purposeful stride.
"Ives, we had best be leaving," Nick, Ives' husband said as he approached the two sisters. He silently held out his pocket watch to his wife and smiled to himself when she looped the strings of her reticule over her wrist and pressed a kiss on Ella's cheek. He knew the only way to get Ives moving quickly was to show her that it was time to nurse their daughter.
"I must return home to Nicole. We will talk later, Ellie." She accepted Nick's hand as she rose to her feet.
Ella placed a kiss on her sister's cheek and watched as she almost ran out of the ballroom with her husband back to her daughter. She sighed and began to snap her fan open and closed with suppressed energy.
September 1844 – Cornwall
"Do you want my ribbon, Tilly?" Lady Ella asked her younger sister as she dangled the periwinkle ribbon in front of her nose.
Tilly bounced up and down in her seat. "Yes, yes, Ella! Please, I love that ribbon!"
"If you promise not to tell Papa where I have gone, I will give it to you. Now, if Papa asks where I have gone, you will say…" Ella trailed off.
"I will tell him that you are practising your watercolours by the river," Tilly answered dutifully. "I promise I won't tell Papa that you are really visiting Aaron Greene. May I have the ribbon now?"
Ella shook her head. "I will give it to you when I get home," she said, pocketing the ribbon much to Tilly's dismay. "Now, remember not to tell Mama or Papa where I have gone."
"I won't!" Tilly responded, her green eyes wide. "Are you taking Mona with you? Can I play with her?"
Ella took her time answering. She wanted to take her dog with her, but she rarely took Desdemona down to the river when she was painting. If she did, her parents would instantly know that something was amiss. "I wasn't going to take her. You can take her for a walk around the yard."
Tilly smiled brightly at the prospect of taking Desdemona for a walk.
"Remember don't tell Papa where I am!" Ella kissed her sister on the crown of her head and ran out the door.
Somewhere down the hallway, the clock tolled nine-thirty.
With everyone now asleep, Ella slipped out of her bedroom window and down the trellis. With a lifetime of practice of climbing down the trellis in her heavy skirts, Ella made it down to the garden in just a few minutes. Once outside she paused to catch her breath, hiding in the shadows of the house. She glanced up at the sky and winced.
There was little moon tonight. Many of the twinkling stars were hidden behind dark clouds. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and then broke into a run, heading for the beach.
When she reached the cliffs surrounding the beach she settled herself on a rock to catch her breath. Ever since Ives had married Nick Rotherwick two years ago, Ella had begun to sneak out of the house on a regular basis to find some solitude by the river or beach. It was all Roderick's fault, she decided, her eyes narrowing as she thought of her older brother. Since Ives' departure, her brother was determined to take his role as the oldest sibling very seriously.
Her breathing returned to normal, Ella stared out into the crashing ocean. During the day, the water was almost green, but now, in the moonless sky, it was black and menacing. And yet, Ella found it soothing. She tugged her cloak about her as the wind picked up. In her rush to get out of the house, she had forgotten her gloves; her fingers were icy.
Unable to stand the cold wind a moment longer, Ella stood, brushed the sand from her cloak and retraced her path back to the house.
Lord Jonathan Hannaford, the only son to the Earl of Bridport stepped out of the War Office with his orders placed carefully in the pocket of his coat. He shook his head as he recalled his superior's instructions. It seemed that Jonathan was to leave London in only two days' time and travel to the country. He would be forced to miss his friend's birthday celebrations – which tended to be highly entertaining – while he was away on his mission. All because contraband goods were slipping past Customs and the government was losing money.
He had planned to spend the afternoon in his club, but now that he had his orders, Jonathan had a great deal of packing and planning to be accomplished before his departure. He stepped into his carriage and ordered the coachman to take him home to Belgrave Square.
Jonathan had just stepped through the door when his sister saw him. Lady Lucinda was quickly descending the stairs, dressed in a white tea dress, her crinoline bumping against the banister. She had a ball gown draped over each arm. He winced, well aware of where this encounter was leading.
"Jon! You are home at last!" She offered her brother a sweet smile. "These have just arrived from my modiste. Which one do you think I should wear to the Cunninghams' ball in two nights' time?"
Luce first held up a pale blue gown with long sleeves and looked pointedly at Jonathan. Then she held a cream dress in much the same style in front of her. Like her brother, Lucinda had green-grey eyes and dark brown hair that she curled in the style favoured by the Queen. Brother and sister had the same shaped face, with the only difference being that Luce's skin was porcelain, while Jonathan's was lightly tanned from the sun.
"Actually, Luce, there is something I must tell you," Jonathan began, annoyed that he would have to break his promise to escort Lucinda to the Cunninghams' ball. He knew how excited she was about the ball – much of it had to do with a certain young gentleman who was planning to ask for her hand.
"You can tell me in a moment, Jon. Which dress do you prefer?"
"The blue," he responded automatically. "Now, will you listen to me?" Luce frowned; Jonathan never took that tone with her. Jonathan had always doted on her and it was an unwelcome change for Luce to have her brother talk to her like that. "I will not be able to escort you to the ball on Thursday night."
Luce's eyes filled with tears. "I see. May I ask why not?" she asked, valiantly trying to keep the tears from her voice.
Jonathan smoothed the sleeves of his coat, unable to meet her eyes. "I have been invited to a house party in Cornwall. A few of the fellows from school have invited me to join them for a few weeks of-"
"You do no need to explain to me, Jonathan Toby! Duty to one's friends must of course come before one's family! I hope you have a pleasant trip!" she finished with cool hauteur.
Jonathan watched Lucinda run up the stairs feeling like the villain that he was. As long as Luce was still angry with him, he would not have to worry about her under his feet as he made his plans...or following him to Cornwall. He just wished there was some other way to get out of London that did not involve breaking his little sister's heart.
The evening before he was to leave for Cornwall, Jonathan joined his parents and sister for dinner at home. Following dinner, his mother and sister had retired to the drawing room for tea while Jonathan and his father took port and cigars. When Jonathan would have joined the ladies, his father stilled him with a tight grip on his arm.
"What's this about you leaving tomorrow morning?" Lord Bridport demanded, wasting no time in getting to the point
Jonathan closed his eyes to hide his annoyance at Lucinda. He should have known the snitch would tell his father that he was going to spend some time, supposedly, with his school friends. His hopes of sneaking quietly out of the house at first light tomorrow morning were now dashed.
"Were you planning to tell me or were you hoping Lucinda would do your work for you?"
"She already has, has she not?" he demanded as he pushed away from the table. He crossed to the window and moved the curtains aside to stare out at the gas-lit street. The light caught the rain as if fell gently, creating haloes around the lamps.
"Actually, your mother told me," Lord Bridport said softly.
"And she heard it from Luce." Defeated, Jonathan returned to his seat. He poured himself another large glass of port and took a large swallow. "Father, it is just a few weeks with some friends from Oxford."
Lord Bridport did not look as convinced as Jonathan hoped he would. Whether he suspected that there was more to his story than a month or so of debauchery, or whether he did not like the idea of his son spending time with his old friends, Jonathan did not know.
"Must you leave? You only just returned from a five-month journey to Ireland. What were you doing there?"
Jonathan shrugged. He could not explain to his father his previous mission the War Office had entrusted him with. As far as his family knew, he was a nothing but a wastrel who spent a great deal of time away with friends.
Lord Bridport sighed. He was tired of his son's secrecy and the way he avoided answering questions. "Lucinda is expecting a marriage proposal in a few weeks from Lord Wakeham," he continued. "I think she hoped that you would be here to share her happiness."
"I don't know why!" Jonathan muttered darkly. "She knows that I think she could do better than Wakeham."
"Love works in mysterious ways, Jon."
Jonathan grunted and began to stalk from the room. He paused, his hand on the doorknob to shoot his father a tormented look. "I am sorry, Father, but I cannot turn down this time in Cornwall."
Lord Bridport raised his eyebrow at his son, more convinced than ever that his son was working for the government and was being sent to Cornwall for a mission. That would be an excellent explanation for his mysterious behaviour! Jonathan loved his little sister greatly. It was such a change to see his son choosing himself and his pleasures over Lucinda. "You will not refuse, even for you sister's happiness?"
"No. Not even for Lucinda."