Lady Elizabeth Buckingham stood at the stairs of the Ballroom on the arm of her brother Adam. Adam stood six feet tall in his formal suit his amber hair and eyes scanning the room for his acquaintances. Perhaps looking for one lady in particular. He would keep his musings to himself before announcing to the world that someone had captured his attentions.

Lady Elizabeth was less enamoured with the crowd. She longed for the season to be over. She longed for Adam to find a suitable match so that she could return to Haywood House most of all she longed for the library. Since the death of William Brockett in the Crimea she had slowly returned to society. In truth the engagement had been a convenient arrangements between both families. William had kindly explained that he would expect very little from her and that she could pursue her passions of welfare reform for the working classes without much interference from him.

Elizabeth spotted her mother animatedly discussing a topic with their Aunt Lady Winchester. She stifled an inward groan. It was the work of the devil and her mother finding suitable matches for all of the Buckingham children. One which her mother took on with as much gusto as she did with all projects.

After they were announced Adam and Elizabeth descended the staircase to ballroom. Elizabeth unsuccessfully attempted to navigate past her mother who stuck out her fan and wrapped her on the elbow to join their aunt. Adam and Elizabeth shared a glance only siblings can and joined their mother.

"Elizabeth you look lovely tonight. I was saying to your Aunt Tilly that you have been even more engaged in the plight of the working women of the East End than I."

Elizabeth braced herself for the onslaught of questions from her Aunt and mother. She looked up as they both smiled at her. She knew something had changed. She wasn't able to determine it at that very point however it was palpable.

"You must spend some time with Lady Apsley tonight." Elizabeth's mother Eleanor Buckingham was a well renowned force of nature. In her debutante years she had been pursued by many suitors due to her extremely feisty personality and the generous dowry she had attached to her. Her red hair now laced with white giving her hair a salt and pepper hue. Elizabeth knew her mother had a plan at foot. She had learned from bitter experience not to get in the way of it.

"Lady Apsley has found an heir to her estate." Aunt Tilly whispered in Elizabeth's ear.

There it was. The plan. Unfolding before her eyes. Elizabeth shot her mother a warning glance.

"Now Elizabeth. I know that Lord Brockett was your betrothed. No one apart from his mother could have mourned him more. Do you want to live your life alone? You are now twenty two. You won't have as many pickings." Eleanor Buckingham took her daughter by the shoulder and steered her towards the punch bowl.

Elizabeth looked pleadingly at her Aunt. Tilly popped her fan over her smirk and gave a small shrug of her shoulders. Yes it was going to happen. Elizabeth was going to be introduced and that was that.

"He is the son of Lady Apsley's brother. You know the missionary who has been out in Africa. He is a little rough and ready for London society however he is the heir. You were going to be the lady of the house. We think.."

Elizabeth's green eyes widened at the sound of Africa and to her eternal annoyance she didn't pay any attention to the remainder of her mother's conversation. Someone had been to Africa. Perhaps talking to this gentleman would not be so tedious.

Elizabeth stood behind her mother to await the introduction. She smiled at the acquaintances she knew. She could see the crowd wanting to be fed by her introduction to the new Lord Brockett. No doubt it would be the topic de jour for many of the idle rich of the set.

Henry Carlyle had never felt so out of place in his life. He normally wore a light linen suit in Cape Town when working in his medical practice.Here he was stood in the middle of London society in the singularly most uncomfortable suit he ever worn in his entire life. In fact it was the first time he had been in formal Dining Attire. He knew not one single soul apart from his Aunt Lady Apsley who clung to him like a limpet. 

He could understand after the death of her only son she wouldn't want him out of her sight for long. Since his arrival in London it felt as though he had not had a single minute to himself. He was also bored. He tended the sick on the passenger boat from Cape Town to London. However in the two weeks he had been here he had only had the chance to soothe a bunion for his Aunt. 

Every female in London was looking at him. The mothers were devising schemes to be introduced to him and the daughters looked as if they would eat him alive. They looked like a pack of African Wild Dogs ready to take their pray down en masse. He wondered where this Buckingham girl was so that he could get the pleasantries over and done with. Marry the girl, leave her here and go back to Cape Town.

He currently felt it would have been better to arm wrestle a pride of lions than stay in this stifling room for one more minute. He leant down to speak to Lady Apsley when the scent of fresh flowers caught his attention. The smell reminded him of the Jasmine trees outside his childhood home.

Henry noticed at the corner of his eye a woman speaking to Lady Apsley. He observed that she was in an animated discussion with Lady Apsley. He steeled himself for the long tedious conversation when he discovered the owner of the intoxicating scent was stood behind Lady Apsley's friend.

Elizabeth stood behind her mother awaiting the introduction to Henry Carlyle. At the sound of her name she turned to be introduced when the sight of the bluest most intense eyes met hers.

For the briefest of moments she felt as if her heart was a caged bird waiting to take flight. His gaze was intense and pleasing. She had never quite seen a face to rugged but soft. His dark curls had been tamed into a style for the evening however one or two had escaped. She wanted very much to run her hands through those curls. She chided herself for reading too much Jane Austen.

"Elizabeth Buckingham may I introduce my nephew Henry Carlyle." Lady Apsley extended her arm to Henry. She nodded at Henry and he stood forward.

This was Elizabeth Buckingham. He had heard about her from his cousin's letters, his Uncle and his Aunt. Somehow the young woman in front of him was far from his imaginings. He had her as bookish and plain. Not comely and warm. Her eyes shone emerald green and her gold hair glinted in the candlelight.

He took her proffered hand and gently brushed his lips on gloved hand. She smelled divine. She exuded stability and peace. He felt at peace for the first time since he had been in England.

Elizabeth curtseyed and withdrew her hand. She felt his lips on the back of her hand through her gloves. It sent a pulse of electricity through her body. She had never felt anything quite like it which made her immediately flush. Who was this stranger and what was his effect on her?

"Miss Buckingham are you well?" Lady Apsley enquired noting the flushing on her face and chest.

"Quite well." Elizabeth replied recovering herself. "I am a little warm. I may need to take some air." Elizabeth nodded to the windows at the end of the ballroom.

"Let us all take some air." Her mother agreed. She took Lady Apsley's arm and guided her to the balcony.

Henry offered Elizabeth his arm. She readily took it. He was very tall and imposing. She felt small and vulnerable next to him. She wasn't sure why and to her shame she liked it.

As they crossed the ballroom to the balcony Henry felt Elizabeth tremble against his arm. He inhaled her intoxicating scent and decided that despite being cajoled into Elizabeth Buckingham's company he may indeed enjoy it.

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My first foray into historical fiction

Please let me know if you are enjoying it

Shall I continue?

I will update on a Thursday - looking forward to making your acquaintances x