《Veiled》


 Prologue

    Elijah Eldridge was the new Duke of Norfolk, well.. Not quite. He''d stepped into his title a year prior. He certainly had yet to get used to his inheritance, or as others may put it: His birthright. But he certainly wasn¡¯t new to most of the ton¡¯s standards.


    The last thing Elijah had ever wished for was to finally, officially become his father.


    He loathed that man, and he was thankful the heavens had finally decided to grace Elijah and the, now, dowager duchess with the late duke''s inevitable death. But now that he was gone, Elijah stepped into his position, into the light that forever put him in his father¡¯s shadow.


    He was now ¡®Your Grace¡¯ rather than a simple, ¡®My Lord.¡¯ Elijah had his fathers land and every last one of his titles, they¡¯d officially become his; he was no longer using the Earl of Surrey as a courtesy title, he is the Earl of Surrey now. The minute that his father had died it became staggeringly true:


    Elijah was truly his father¡¯s son. Not only by name now, but by everything that might matter. Everything that did matter..


    Like his father he too would destroy any happiness, any joy his future wife would hope for in her life, he too would be alone in this world.


    He too would never be loved. It was unfathomable how impossible it would be for someone to love him when he was exactly who his father had been.


    Elijah came from a long line of unhappy dukes with unhappy duchesses, it was simply the Eldridge way. Unhappiness and an inability to love was their curse. They would all share the same fate, they would all simply marry to complete one goal: To continue the Eldridge line; by any means possible.


    To most that was forcing marriage upon the first impressionable young lady. To others that was matches made on paper, matches made for business.


    Love was simply a foreign concept.And for all the duchesses who wished for agreeable marriages, simple happiness or even love, it was something they''d never experience.


    Elijah knew of duty, he was a gentleman. Or he prided himself as one, he was neither rouge nor rake; he was simply a gentleman with honor. And if that signified anything then most could agree he would never marry, or rather he shouldn¡¯t.


    And he certainly would never love.


    Elijah was not a man who would love. He was simply incapable of it; he was an Eldridge after all.


    Elijah dreaded the day he would finally have to succumb to his duty, he would postpone it as long as necessary but the day would come. And that day haunted him, he¡¯d found himself laid awake at night in agony thinking of such a thing. He¡¯d consistently lost sleep over it.


    His mother held a strong belief he would find love such as she had, long before she''d met his father.


    He did not agree.


    He would never find such a thing. He was his father, and his father was him. How would he be any different than the man he shared everything down to his deep eye colour with?


    How could he be any different?


    He actively avoided the London season despite her every disapproval. She demanded he at least try, and he¡¯d wished, every time she badgered him, to remind her that they could not be any different. She had simply been forced to marry into the family, whilst he was born into it. Born into a role that demanded much more from him than her, born into a name that cursed him to live and die as the previous Dukes.


    Not to mention he absolutely detested the season in every way. He hated watching debutantes fall into this ritual of trying to please gentlemen, and he pitied the wallflowers; he knew what it was like to sit at the edge of society, unable to join in. At times he did feel oddly grateful he wouldn''t have to fall into this ridiculous dance good society was so fond of. Even if he was so unlucky to have been born as an Eldridge.


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    Even if he had to live for his title and his name, even if he would marry through papers, through business and through duty. At the very least he couldn''t be expected to partake in the season.


    His purpose was to be an Eldridge and to die as one. One such as his father:


    Incapable of love and with an unhappy wife, living amongst empty halls. Damned to continue the dreadful Eldridge cycle.


    It was what he was born for, and it was what he lived for.


    ***


    Theodosia Milnes lived for love.


    She had been engulfed in love from the moment she was born, she grew up loved by her family and grew up loving them. Love was as much a part of her as her very bones. But there was another form of love she desired other than familial:


    Romantic.


    She longed for romance, the moment she¡¯d entered good society three years prior she made it her goal to fall hard and deep into a romance that swept her off her feet and made her question her sensibility.


    She wished to share what her parents did.


    She blamed her strong belief of love for the reasoning behind her continued presence on the marriage mart despite her debut being three long years prior.


    Three years that the ton never let her forget. She was quite famous. Mama¡¯s always warned their daughters to not end up such as her, and often warned them how nonsensical she was to want love.


    (As if love was truly such a modern concept..)


    She¡¯d always thought about her first season, it had been one of joy despite her average amount of suitors. She quite enjoyed a dance, and danced she had in her first season. Her fourth could be all the more different, suitors avoided her as if she were the plague thus making it impossible to dance like any other young lady. She heard what they¡¯d said about her, she wasn¡¯t deaf after all. She knew not one gentleman believed her worth their time, love was such a bizarre concept to them.


    She was often regarded as a spinster, a soon to be old maid who would never marry and would always bring shame to her family. She was not so old she would never wed.


    Was she?


    Many thought her dreams of love to be foolish as it was, her age was a whole other concept for them. She knew that London often talked about her behind her back, as if love was such an unbelievable concept a lady such as herself, at such a ripe age might wish for. Maybe they were right, perhaps she should¡¯ve latched on to the least combatable man that came her way to save herself and her family from an impending ruin and maybe her window to do so was shut to never be opened again.


    Or maybe this season would be her luckiest yet.


    Who was she kidding, she would spend this season just like the last; Alone, with only the suitors who desired her family¡¯s fortune appearing. They¡¯d be offering courtship and a life of misery only to make the season all the more dreadful. She couldn''t help that no man had truly ever captured her eye, nor enraptured her soul.


    She did find lemonade to be good company compared to the suitors she''d encountered. If you wished to ever find her she was more times than not stuck next to the furthest lemonade table in the corner of the room during any and all soirees and balls held during the season.


    When she fell in love she would feel as if the world might open up and swallow her whole.


    She knew it would be a feeling like no other. A feeling she would latch onto and never let go, so if she ever found herself in love she knew it would truly be a wonderful thing, a feeling, a moment that she would never forget.And he would feel the same.


    They¡¯d feel as if they were the only people in every room they occupied together, he would know her mind and she would know his.


    It could be no less. She did not wish to settle.


    She did not wish for a loveless marriage one made for duty or responsibility. She knew what she desired, knew what kept her afloat in the dreary London season:


    Love.


    And she would not¨CShe would NEVER settle for anything but.


    Love was all she knew, and love was all she wanted.

 Chapter 1

    April 6th 1813


    There she stood, perched at the corner of the ballroom of the first ball of the social season known as the infamous London Season, watching as heaps of suitors gathered to ask young ladies to dance along the floor. Young ladies who weren¡¯t her.


    Dosia wasn¡¯t going to lie to herself, she wished she could dance alongside her peers. She longed for a noble gentleman to whisk her away in hopes of courtship, but alas three long dreary seasons had made her all the less desirable.


    Although she had her fair share of suitors in her debut season none ever lifted her off her feet nor were they ever totally serious about courting her, as for the second year she caught the eyes of even less, and don¡¯t even start on her third year.. It was simply depressing to say the least.


    At the very¨Cand she meant very¨Cleast she believed she could be a little thankful as she stood by the corner of the ballroom sipping on a glass of lemonade ; she did enjoy watching the others dance and her parents didn¡¯t wholeheartedly mind. They wanted the best for her and if that meant she took her match into her own hands, well they¡¯d allow it.


    The nearby string quartet began the early strings of another number and noticing it was another quadrille that was about to commence she scurried from the table to get a clearer view of the debutants and their respective partners as they swarmed onto the dance floor.


    She loved to watch which suitors were serious, and the ones who weren¡¯t. It was all in their gaze. One could learn alot from a person¡¯s eyes.


    She was quickly stopped in her tracks as a gentle hand whisked underneath hers and swept her away. She was breathlessly pulled onto the dance floor unexpectedly and as she slowly looked up to see who had pulled this swift heist, she met dark eyes who gazed at her with long thick lashes that brushed across deep dark skin, eyes that reflected her confused profile with clear precision, Dosia wondered if this man had secretly placed mirrors where his retinas should be.


    ¡°You do realize you are to ASK a lady before you whisk her away to the dance floor?¡± She asked, staring deeper into her own blue eyes through his deep chocolate ones.


    His full lips tugged at the corners as he slowly developed a smirk, ¡°my apologies.¡± His eyes left hers and he continued to silently laugh to himself.


    ¡°It''s not funny you know? It wasn¡¯t very ¡®gentleman-y¡¯ of you.¡± She barked as she swung her head to the side with an attempt to shun him but she couldn''t help not  keeping her eyes positioned on his face, examining how he shone as if the heavens had blessed his dark complexion themselves.


    ¡°I''m not sure what you mean, nobody said it was funny.¡± He mused taking a short look back down at her as he knelt forward to whisper, ¡°Although it sure seems that it may be just a bit humorous.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have you know-¡± He whisked her around, stopping her sentence dead in its tracks. Once again a smirk flashed across his face before he paused on the floor, letting her hands free from his grasp gently.


    ¡°Seems our dance is over.¡± He spoke as he made a faint bow before he turned to leave, grabbing his sleeve she whispered.


    ¡°You sir, you really must tell me your name.¡±


    ¡°Must I?¡± He teased, ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was required.¡±


    ¡°It is the gentle-¡± She began only to be once again cut off,


    ¡°Gentleman-y?¡± He laughed.


    Her eyes widened as he mocked her but not because he mocked her, no she could honestly care less, but because of the feeling she felt in her chest as he laughed.


    It felt as if a thousand gold bars had been lifted off her chest, and she could float, although the queasy feeling she felt in her stomach could weigh her down into the earth at any moment.  ¡°Yes, the ¡®gentleman-y¡¯ thing to do, when you take a lady to the dance floor. Without asking, might I add.¡±


    ¡°Ah, but I already seem to have proven im not much of a gentleman, like you said we danced without me so much as asking, so must I really tell you my name?¡±


    She frowned.


    He smirked as he bowed once more. ¡°I bid you goodnight, Miss.¡±


    And with that he disappeared into the crowds.


    ***


    Dosia couldn¡¯t shake the feeling he left behind that night, she replayed it numerous times from the moment he faded in the crowds leaving her behind on the floor to when she lay awake that night in bed to even the next morning when she was enjoying tea with her mother and father in the drawing room. His hand had fit perfectly under hers, when he held her hand it felt as if he could hold her upright for eternity, he was gentle when he stole her to the floor and the way he teased and mocked her held no ill-intent. Not to mention the way you could see every star, every constellation, and every planet in his dark sloped eyes and how his eyelashes tickled his cheeks as he blinked or shut them to laugh took over her very being every moment she thought too hard about them.


    She''d even thought about how perfectly his loc¡¯d up hair drifted behind his ear into a large knot positioned at the back of his head.


    His back, oh how disappointed she was when he swished away leaving only the image of his large broad and very male back. (That she thought about a lot as well.) Sighing she set down her cup of tea and slumped back in her chair.


    ¡°Are you alright my dear?¡± Lady Milnes, without hesitation, inquired, leaving her father to look at her with worried eyes.


    ¡°Oh, yes. Yes, I¡¯m alright, just had a long evening yesterday, I fear I''m still a bit tired.¡± She lied, yesterday was like any other ball, just filled with a whole lot of mystery man. (and thinking about said mystery man..) She was only tired because she had only been playing through last night like a madman hardly getting any sleep because a certain dark, cunning and regrettably charming suitor had been on her mind all night long.


    ¡°You know you could¡¯ve told the maids you wanted to sleep a bit longer, we would¡¯ve understood.¡± Lord Milnes explained, with a sorrowful expression on his face. ¡°We¡¯re sorry we weren¡¯t able to attend with you last night, it must¡¯ve been a long evening indeed.¡±


    She knew her parents cared for her, but it did sting knowing that they believed she couldn¡¯t have an eventful time without their company, to be fair to them though it has been that way for much of the current and prior seasons. Sitting upright she smiled,


    ¡°It¡¯s alright papa, It wasn¡¯t so bad that I needed time to recover.¡± Receiving smiles in return from her parents she continued, ¡°Would it be acceptable if I went out in town with my maid today? I wish to spend time with Amelia.¡±


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    Her parents exchanged looks before nodding in unison, satisfied she sat back and sipped more of her tea.


    ***


    The town-square was somewhere she didn¡¯t frequent as much as many other ladies, even during her first season.


    Of course, she did frequent town, much more than she did as of late, during her debut year but that was because she was often with other ladies her age or the odd suitor who was actually serious about courting her.  Once you hit the third season not many real suitors take notice of your existence, and many of your friends have long been married. Thankfully not all of hers had yet found their matches, they were a small brood of young ladies hoping for a love match, so like her they¡¯d not yet settled down.


    It was to be the 3 of them united as a front. That was until one got married, although she had been forced into an arranged marriage by her parents.


    Thankfully she seemed to fall head over heels for him.


    Thus leaving her with one friend to promenade with: Amelia.


    Who, like her, preferred to sit and chat in their respective rooms or drawing rooms of their family estates therefore not making many, if any, trips out to the town-square. Although today was different, she''d sent quick word to Amelia demanding she come.


    She was stood waiting outside Fairview bakery, she had no plans to enter as it was a common place for debutantes and the suitors who were courting them to frequent¨C she was not interested in watching the side of the marriage mart she¡¯d long been cast out of as of late¨C she was simply waiting for Amelia so they could take a walk together with their maids following suit behind them.


    ¡°Dosia!¡± She¡¯d gazed off in the direction her name was called squinting to see a clearer picture of the small figure waving and calling out. ¡°Dosia!¡± It was Amelia who was calling out and walking towards her.


    ¡°Amelia!¡± She called back, waving, ¡°Do make haste!¡±


    Upon arrival Amelia, who¡¯d walked as fast as one could while still considering it walking,out of breath spoke, ¡°Dosia, What was so urgent you had to practically demand I come out today?¡±


    Locking her arm into her friends she whispered, ¡°last night..¡±


    Beaming, Amelia replied, ¡°Last night? Like when you danced with a gentleman?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Who was he anyway? I¡¯m not sure I recognized him.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m¡ª I¡¯m not sure..¡± How unlucky, Amelia had no clue who he was either.


    ¡°You mean.. He wasn¡¯t introduced?¡±


    ¡°No, he didn¡¯t even ask for my hand to the floor, he just kind of¡ªWell he grabbed me from the crowd without so much as a greeting.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Amelia chuckled, ¡°Are you going to search for him?¡±


    ¡°I had the idea, as fleeting as it may seem now.¡±


    ¡°Fleeting? Oh no! You must find him!¡± Amelia grabbed harder on her arm.


    ¡°He refused to tell me his name last night, and I¡¯ve heard nary a peep from anyone else about him..¡± She sighed, ¡°it is abundantly clear he wishes to stay hidden, not to mention we danced once! How crazy would it be if I began asking around for his name!¡±


    ¡°You do make a fair point.. Well I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll run into him again, if you do it must be fate! Oh, how lovely would that be!¡±


    Amelia seemed to be getting quite ahead of herself, fate? How insane, he was simply some ill-mannered gentleman. Maybe she was curious but that was it! She wasn¡¯t some smitten debutante silly enough to fall for a man she didn¡¯t know..


    Well, she thought she was.


    ***


    Elijah found himself through town the following afternoon on a shopping excursion, he claimed he wished to buy a new quill but he honestly needed time to clear his head  far, far away from the Dowager Duchess¨Cwhom he loved very much¨Cand her marriage meddled mind.


    It wasn¡¯t that he was opposed to marriage, he was simply opposed to courtship and marriage made strictly by business. And seeing as a love match was certainly rare and impossible for someone of his lineage, he deemed marriage only necessary by the duty of him and his future wife, and a duty he''d prefer to never succumb to.


    He¡¯d seen how his parents'' marriage was and how short lived any positive relationship between the two lasted.  He wasn¡¯t close with his father, nor did he like the man very much.


    His mother had been forced to marry the late Duke despite her wishes against it; she''d told Elijah about how becoming the Duchess of Norfolk was the last thing she¡¯d ever wished for. She was in love with another man and the marriage she was thrown into destroyed any chance at happiness she believed she would ever experience, excluding bringing him into this world of course. (She did love her son after all.)


    Elijah did not wish to be in a marriage with a woman he did not know nor tolerate, especially against her will  so the whole marriage market had always disinterested him at every turn. He¡¯d been hounded by debutantes and their mama¡¯s wishing for the position and money he could offer them and the last thing he needed was his own mother asking if any young ladies had interested him and introducing him to many families with unwed daughters.


    "Surrey! Or rather¨CNorfolk!" A voice called as he was tapped upon the shoulder, looking to the direction it echoed from, "apologies I keep making that mistake¨Canyways it was quite a surprise to see you dancing last night!"


    "Moore." Elijah greeted.


    The man bothering him at the very hour was none other than Ambrose Moore. Although a good friend he knew how to get under someone''s skin especially Elijah''s and he seriously was not currently in the mood to humor that. But truly, when was he ever?


    "Am I to believe you plan to court Miss Milnes?" Ambrose mused, "Should I expect you to promenade with the girl tomorrow morning at the picnic?" He added with a smirk.


    Elijah grew more impatient by the second. A single thought ringing through his ears, Why would that be so appalling?


    "We danced once. I have no intentions of courting the young lady, nor does she have intentions of letting me." He sighed and shoved his friend off, "and I certainly will not be promenading any time soon."


    Ambrose laughed, "If you say so, Your Grace."


    Elijah cringed at those words, ''Your Grace'' he realized had constantly left behind a sour taste in his mouth whenever he was addressed as such. He''d believed it would take time for him to grow comfortable to his title he''d freshly walked into but alas a year following the late duke''s passing it still made him wish to spit every time it flew off somebody''s lips.


    "I''d much prefer you''d call me Elijah, or stick to Eldridge at the very least, Ambrose." Elijah sighed.


    "If you insist¡ª Elijah." Ambrose''s expression changed from one of slight confusion to amusement. "I do believe that is your dance partner, Miss¡ª"


    Grabbing hold of Ambrose''s mouth he gasped, "Do not!"


    The worst he could do was call Miss. Milnes over, especially now that he was quite sure she may know who he was and he most certainly did not have the mind to deal with anyone on the marriage market. And--


    And¡ª


    By god did luck not work in his favour, she was staring right at him for heaven''s sake!


    "Good day Ambrose." He hissed before rushing off down Mayfair, should she dare make haste towards him and Ambrose.


    ***


    ¡°..Miss-'''' She heard a large booming masculine voice call, surprised she spun in the direction.


    ¡°Lord Moore must know somebody over here.¡± Amelia spoke up.


    ¡°You must be right, I wonder who he¡¯s calling after.¡± She squinted in his direction to see if he was truly yelling to alert some young lady from where her and Amelia were situated.


    He was currently being held by another man,  he was practically being suffocated by the hand present on his mouth and clearly struggling to break free.


    ¡°Who..?¡± She cut her question short answering it for herself as she realized it was him that was clutching Lord Moore


    ¡°Dosia isn¡¯t that.. Him? With Lord Moore?¡± Amelia asked, not breaking Theodosia¡¯s focus on the two men.


    ¡°I believe it is..¡±


    And she also believed that he was currently running away from Lord Moore who looked very amused with the current situation; He was simply beaming as he¡¯d begun waving in their direction.


    She wasn¡¯t focused on Lord Moore though, she was focused on the suitor who was running very quickly down Mayfair.