"Incognito" - читать интересную книгу автора (Allain Suzanne)

Chapter Thirteen

Lydia sought Emily out after Sedgewick had left, eager to tell her all the details of his proposal and her acceptance. Emily, despite her own unhappiness, managed to show her genuine joy at her sister’s engagement, and listened unselfishly to every minute detail. She was sure Sedgewick was happy as well, but suspected he would have been happier if he had had to overcome further obstacles in his pursuit of Lydia. Emily was beginning to think he enjoyed being the object of a tragic love affair far more than a happy one.

Lydia was so preoccupied with her own happiness that it was some time before she realized that there was something troubling her sister. Gradually, however, as the first rush of confidences subsided, she began to notice that her sister was quieter than usual, and that her smiles, while sincere, had a wistful quality about them. Emily was relieved to be asked what was troubling her, and described the whole sorry business from start to finish.

“So, that is that,” she finished, with resignation. “He will have nothing more to do with me, and how can I blame him? He thinks me another Lady Cynthia.”

“But, Emily, I am sure if you just explained why you refused him—”

“How would he ever believe me? No, the time to tell him was the night of my rescue. I hesitated, and now I am lost.”

“I cannot believe that he has ceased to love you. I am sure he would be relieved to hear your explanation.”

“Perhaps. I feel, however, that I have lost him irrevocably. There is no warmth in his regard any longer, not like there was. And then, after my foolish behavior in traveling unaccompanied after dark, he probably thinks my actions completely inexplicable. Certainly they were lacking in the decorum one looks for in the wife of a marquess, not to mention a future duchess. No, I must forget him,” Emily announced resolutely, and when Lydia looked disbelieving, Emily just smiled. “You do not believe me, I see. Well, I am determined. I am only nineteen after all, and Lord Wesleigh is not the only gentleman in the world. I am going to a ball on Wednesday, where I am sure to meet a number of nice gentlemen. I refuse to let Lord Wesleigh destroy my pleasure in the ball. I just hope my bruise has faded by then.” This effectively turned the subject to that of cosmetics that could be discreetly applied to disguise Emily’s bruise, if necessary, followed by a serious discussion of how each of them should arrange her hair.

Lydia, however, could not be happy when her sister suffered so miserably. She resolved to do something about it, and consulted Sedgewick at the earliest opportunity. He was happy at the prospect of interfering in his friend’s romance as thoroughly as Wesleigh had interfered with his own, and he and Lydia soon decided the most effective way of inciting Wesleigh to passion was to make him jealous.

“But of whom?” Lydia asked, once this course was decided upon.

“There are sure to be quite a few gentlemen at the ball.”

“Yes, but I know of no one in particular who admires Emily.”

“Wesleigh does not know that. We just have to pick out one of her partners, and I will mention to Wesleigh that he has told me how greatly he admires Emily.”

“Jonathan,” Lydia exclaimed, admiration shining in her eyes, “you are brilliant.”

This statement was bound to make Sedgewick forget his friend’s ill-fated romance completely, and the conversation was effectively over.

It was not to be imagined, however, that the two unfortunate lovers were not thrown together often before the ball on Wednesday evening. The duke was still Lady Smithfield’s guest, Alexander was now acknowledged as his son, and Sedgewick was engaged to one of the daughters of the house. This made for many unpleasant meetings between Emily and Alexander. Added to this were the obvious matchmaking efforts of Lydia and Sedgewick, and the less obvious efforts of Lady Smithfield and the duke. Sir Marcus was the only person who had no interest in seeing Emily and Wesleigh get together.

For Sir Marcus fancied himself quite smitten with Emily Smithfield in his own right. He had been previously well disposed toward her for her concern for him when he had been restricted to his bedchamber, but upon learning that she favored him, as Wesleigh had assured him she did, he began to see her as a female of great discernment. There was also some romance in his arriving in the nick of time to wrest her from the arms of her captor (as he persisted in thinking he was her true rescuer, whatever Wesleigh might think). However, it was her behavior since that time that he found truly entrancing. He sensed a softer quality in her since the abduction and, not realizing she was in the throes of despair, felt that perhaps her adventure had changed her in some way. For, although he had liked Emily previously, he had not been as charmed by her vivaciousness of manner as Wesleigh had. He still recalled her theft of his quizzing glass with a shudder.

Tuesday, the day before the ball, it was decided the group would take an excursion to Bodiam Castle. Lady Smithfield was hopeful that the romantic setting would inspire Lord Wesleigh to propose to Emily. Lydia and Sedgewick hoped similarly, and resolved to somehow leave the two of them alone together. Sir Marcus likewise saw it as the perfect place for a proposal, and had determined to use the opportunity to make Emily an offer of marriage.

The day was fine, and the scenery exquisite, and even Emily felt her spirits begin to revive. She and Alexander were still only engaged in exchanging comments about the weather, but the atmosphere was charged with emotion, and Emily felt that anything could happen.

Everyone partook of a picnic luncheon, and Emily felt Alexander’s eyes on her quite a few times throughout the meal. She and Alexander said very little, but Emily found herself laughing a few times at some of the duke’s remarks, and it felt good to laugh again.

After lunch, Lydia and Sedgewick decided to take a walk about the grounds, and invited the others to join them. Lady Smithfield and the duke immediately declined, preferring to rest after their meal. Emily agreed, a little hesitantly, looking at Alexander in an attempt to gauge his reaction. He agreed readily, and Lydia and Sedgewick felt their scheme to be proceeding well, when, to everyone’s dismay, Sir Marcus announced his intention of joining them. There was little to be done but acquiesce with good grace, and they all began their walk, Lydia and Sedgewick first, with Alexander, Emily, and Sir Marcus trailing behind.

After they had gone a short distance, Lydia mentioned she had left her sketchbook in the carriage, and she would like to make a drawing. She asked Sedgewick to accompany her to retrieve it, but insisted the others continue with their walk. While she was unable to leave Emily and Alexander completely alone, she trusted that Sir Marcus would realize what they were hoping to accomplish and withdraw on his own.

Sir Marcus, however, saw their removal as instrumental in assisting him in carrying out his plan, and was determined to rid himself of his friend’s unwelcome presence. Pointing something out to Emily in the distance, so that she walked a little away from him and Alexander, he lowered his voice and told Alexander to make himself scarce.

“I beg your pardon?” Alexander asked.

“I am going to put my luck to the touch. I don’t want you around spoiling the moment.”

“Of course,” Alexander said. “Forgive me for being so obtuse.” Emily had begun walking back toward the gentlemen, having looked in vain for the black swan Sir Marcus had thought he had seen in the moat. Alexander bowed to her, telling her he must see to his father, and left her and Sir Marcus alone.

Emily was quite disappointed, but did not want to spoil Sir Marcus’s pleasure. So she asked him would he like to turn back like the rest, or continue their walk. She was quite shocked when he led her over to a patch of grass and laid down a handkerchief, where he carefully placed one knee.

“Miss Smithfield, Emily, I feel that my admiration for you cannot have gone unobserved, you must realize how ardently I admire you.”

When Emily shook her head no, and would have stopped him from speaking further, he interrupted her. “Your modesty does you credit. You could not but be aware that I have loved you from the first moment I laid eyes upon you. Well, perhaps not the first moment, because, as I recall, you were laughing at me for observing you through my quizzing glass while wearing green glasses, but shortly after that,” he asserted, before realizing that he had not actually loved her until very recently. He then became tangled up in an explanation of how, even though her gall in stealing his quizzing glass had offended him, he was willing to overlook her natural high spirits, and that he was sure she would appear much more fashionable once she had a London modiste. Just as he realized that he had not yet asked her the all-important question, he was interrupted by a stifled giggle.

He stopped in mid-sentence, looking at Emily in disbelief. Surely she had not giggled in the middle of his marriage proposal? But when he reached for his quizzing glass to observe Emily’s expression more closely, she could no longer restrain herself and was soon laughing uncontrollably.

“Well!” he said, highly offended, and stood up, picking up the handkerchief he had been kneeling on, and waving it in the air to remove any dirt or straw, before folding it and returning it to his pocket. “I am glad you stopped me before I actually offered for you! I could never be married to someone who is so lacking in delicacy that she actually giggled in the middle of a marriage proposal! Every feeling must be offended.”

Emily attempted to apologize, but when Sir Marcus began to mutter how he should have known better than to ever think they would have suited, and she hadn’t even let him win at chess, she gave up the attempt as useless. However, she did do her best to maintain her composure, with only a slight shaking of her shoulders to betray her, until they returned to the rest of the party.

Alexander was not with the others, as he could not bear to be present when Sir Marcus and Emily returned, and their engagement was announced. He hoped Emily would refuse Marcus, but when he remembered how she had stated quite firmly were she to have a choice between him and Sir Marcus, she would choose Sir Marcus, he did not think there was much chance of that.

So he wandered aimlessly around the grounds of the castle, and was quite surprised to run into Emily, on a similar solitary ramble. He asked if he might join her, and she acquiesced, but any harmony between them was quickly squashed when he asked bitterly if he should wish her happy.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You must have realized Sir Marcus would have taken me into his confidence. He told me he was going to propose to you.”

“I see,” Emily replied, but made no other comment.

“Is it to be a secret engagement then?” Alexander asked, wondering why she persisted in torturing him.

“You are mistaken. Sir Marcus did not propose to me.”

“He did not propose? But I was quite sure that was his intention.”

“Oh, I am sure it was, also, but that was before he discovered me to be lacking in delicacy.” Emily looked up at Alexander, the picture of disappointment, but Alexander saw the laughter lurking in her eyes, and he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him, allowing him to breathe freely.

“I am certain he is right, but may I ask how he made such a discovery?”

Emily looked at him in mock reproach. “You gentlemen are quite ungallant, accusing me of such a thing. If you must know, it is because I laughed in the middle of his marriage proposal. No one had ever informed me of the vulgarity of such behavior. I am sure it was not even discussed at the Bellingham Ladies Academy. Now that I am aware of it, however, I will be sure to attend to my next proposal with the gravity of a pallbearer.”

“You may not be the recipient of many more proposals if word gets out of your flighty manner of receiving them.” Alexander said, smiling.

“That is true. However, I am not interested in receiving many more proposals.”

Before Alexander could reply to this auspicious remark, they were met by Lydia and Sedgewick, who wished they had jumped into the moat before interrupting such a promising t#234;te-#224;-t#234;te. However, as Lady Smithfield was ready to return home, they had little choice but to encourage Emily and Alexander to rejoin the rest of the party.

Emily waited in vain for her mother to remark on her rash behavior of the other night. She was quite surprised when, on Wednesday, her mother had still not said anything on the subject. Emily was further surprised to discover that, rather than Lady Smithfield’s being angry with her, she had never been so high in her mother’s esteem. She could not understand why her mother was in such a pleasant mood, particularly as her hopes for Lydia had not been realized.

On Wednesday morning, the day of Lady Abernathy’s ball, Emily was the astonished recipient of a new ball gown. A pretty, pale jonquil silk, with shoes to match. The dress had short, puffed sleeves, and a low, wide neckline, with a darker yellow slip to be worn underneath. Lydia also received a new gown, and both girls accepted the gifts with such exclamations of delight that Lady Smithfield was quite pleased with the success of her surprise.

When the girls came down the stairs that evening, and Lady Smithfield saw them, she felt like she could cry, and it was only the thought of how crying always ruined her complexion that kept any actual tears from falling. Lydia was always beautiful, of course, but tonight she glowed with happiness, and the blue dress her mother had chosen for her perfectly matched her eyes. Emily, too, now that she had attracted the notice of Lord Wesleigh, was seen by her mother in an entirely different light. The looks that had before seemed somewhat common were now quite the opposite, as a gentleman who had withstood all the conventional beauties had been captured by Emily’s unique beauty.

The duke, who had been waiting with their mother at the foot of the stairs, also thought both girls in exceptional looks. “I will be the envy of every gentleman in the room when I enter the ball with such lovely ladies,” he told them. Lady Smithfield felt all the glory of having a ducal escort to the ball, and only wished Sir Marcus could have fit in their carriage as well. However, Sir Marcus, who was avoiding Emily as much as possible since the previous day’s debacle, had already left for the ball.

They were received very graciously at Rothergate, which Lady Smithfield correctly attributed to the presence of the duke in their party. Lord Abernathy, to his wife’s extreme displeasure, complimented Emily and Lydia on their appearance and warned Lady Cynthia, who was also in the receiving line, that she had some fierce competition. Lady Cynthia did not comment, but only looked Emily and Lydia up and down with an expression of disdain, as if to say she was not too worried.

As the Smithfield party was among the last to arrive, the first set of dances was soon forming. Emily, who had danced the first dance with Lord Farnwright, while the duke had danced with Lady Abernathy, was very gratified when the duke led her out for the second dance. She was not as pleased, however, to see Lady Cynthia join their set with Lord Wesleigh, a smug smile on her aristocratic face.

They were soon observed to be flirting outrageously, which Emily tried her best to ignore. The duke, however, could not figure out what his son was doing flirting with that supercilious blond girl. Did he not tell his father only a week ago that he was in love with Emily Smithfield? “I should have drowned him at birth,” the duke muttered under his breath.

Emily, although depressed by Alexander’s attention to Lady Cynthia, thought that he might perhaps ask her for the next dance, but as soon as the dance was over he escorted Lady Cynthia to the refreshment room.

Emily, though quite upset, resolved to think no more about it, and smiled brilliantly upon the young man whom Sedgewick was bringing to meet her. The young man, who was introduced as Mr. Henry Watkins, was so struck by the brilliance of Emily’s smile that it was not until Sedgewick reminded him of his purpose in approaching Emily that he managed to stammer out a request for the next dance.

Emily agreed, and they took their places in the country dance. Mr. Watkins was a very young man, fresh out of Oxford, who, as a younger son, was destined for the army or the clergy, though at the present could not decide which he preferred. All of this, and more, Emily learned whenever the steps of the dance brought them together. Mr. Watkins’s father owned a small farm in Sussex, and he even disclosed the type of cattle that was bred there, although Emily would have been hard put to tell anyone, if asked, what type it was. For, although she gave every appearance of hanging upon his every word, she had stopped listening as soon as Lord Wesleigh and Lady Cynthia reentered the ballroom.

She saw Sedgewick approach Alexander and engage him in conversation, and, as they appeared to be looking in her direction, she began laughing hysterically, as if Mr. Watkins had just been saying something horribly amusing, when in reality he had been describing a horse he had recently purchased.

He looked at her in surprise, and she apologized, but told him what he said had reminded her of a funny incident with a horse when she was a child. To her dismay, he insisted she share the story with him, and she was forced to make something up that was not funny in the least, but to which Mr. Watkins laughed heartily, and said, “By Jove, that’s the funniest story I’ve ever heard.”

She would not have been laughing had she overheard Sedgewick’s conversation with Alexander. It had begun innocently enough, but as Alexander was desperate to know the name of the gentleman with whom Emily was dancing, and Sedgewick just as eager to tell him, the pleasantries were soon dispensed with and the significant part of the conversation began.

“I do not recognize the young man dancing with Miss Emily Smithfield,” Alexander mentioned, in a casual manner.

“That’s Mr. Henry Watkins from Sussex. Rather nice chap, actually. Quite taken with Emily. He practically begged me for an introduction.”

“They seem to be getting along rather well,” said Alexander, having just observed Emily laughing enthusiastically in response to a remark of her partner’s. (The remark having to do with the purchase of a new horse.)

“Yes, they do. If I were interested in Emily at all, romantically, I mean, I would be a trifle worried.”

Alexander raised his eyebrows at this blatant hint. “Then it’s a good thing, I suppose, that you are engaged to Miss Lydia Smithfield and not her sister,” he said sardonically.

“Yes, it is a good thing. However, other gentleman, who are not engaged, may lose out on the opportunity altogether.” Mr. Watkins’s loud laughter in response to Emily’s made-up story punctuated Sedgewick’s remark.

“Oh, I am not so sure. Mr. Watkins is only a plain mister after all, and not, I assume, very plump in the pocket.”

“He has a comfortable allowance,” Sedgewick replied, not knowing if it was true or not but, realizing he had picked rather a poor candidate for jealousy, felt it was his duty to make Watkins look as good as possible.

“Comfortable is not good enough, my friend. Not for Emily Smithfield.”

Sedgewick wished to rush to Emily’s defense, but they were interrupted at that point by Lady Cynthia, who complained of the heat. Alexander immediately offered to escort her to the gardens, where some fresh air might revive her. Sedgewick watched the scene with much agitation and went to consult with Lydia about what they should do now that their initial scheme had failed.

The evening that had so promising a beginning was rapidly turning into the most horrid evening of Lady Smithfield’s recollection. Lady Abernathy had congratulated her on Lydia’s engagement, barely concealing her smirk of triumph. “I assume that there will be no notice in the Morning Post of her engagement to Lord Wesleigh, now that she’s engaged to Mr. Sedgewick,” she said, laughing at her poor attempt at humor. Lady Abernathy was so unused to laughing that the sound that issued from her mouth was more of a bray than an actual laugh. Lady Smithfield felt it the most unpleasant sound she had ever heard.

“No, of course not. Although Lord Wesleigh was, of course, anxious to fulfill his father’s wishes, when we observed how attached Lydia was to Mr. Sedgewick, we could not permit the engagement to proceed, after all.” Lady Smithfield had been amazed when neither Lord nor Lady Abernathy had seen in Lord Wesleigh a resemblance to a certain curate. However, Lord Abernathy was a trifle shortsighted, and too vain to wear spectacles, and Lady Abernathy had paid little or no attention to a gentleman she had assumed was far beneath her notice. So they had merely proclaimed themselves delighted to meet Lord Wesleigh when introduced to him earlier in the evening, with never a mention of having met him last week at Lady Smithfield’s dinner party.

“Then I imagine we will soon see another engagement announced,” Lady Abernathy said, nodding in the direction of the dancers.

Lady Smithfield did not grasp her meaning at first. She wondered if Lady Abernathy could possibly be referring to Lord Wesleigh and Emily. But, when she looked in the direction Lady Abernathy was looking, she saw Lord Wesleigh and Lady Cynthia dancing together, and immediately understood what Lady Abernathy was implying.

Lady Smithfield wanted to contradict this pronouncement right away, but there was no denying the couple appeared very familiar, Lord Wesleigh’s dark head bent intimately over Lady Cynthia’s fair one. So she said nothing. However, when the dance had ended, and Lord Wesleigh disappeared into the refreshment room with Lady Cynthia on his arm, her alarm grew. Every minute he was away from the ballroom with that hussy seemed like an hour, and she felt she could not sit still a moment longer. Leaving Lady Abernathy to her triumph, she went to find the duke.

She finally found the duke in the card room, where he had retired after his obligatory dance with Lady Abernathy and his more enjoyable one with Emily. She had to wait impatiently for him to finish his hand, but he was soon finished and, seeing that Lady Smithfield desired a word with him, excused himself from the table.

“What is it?” he asked her, as soon as they had distanced themselves a little from the others in the room.

“Your son is paying most marked attentions to Lady Cynthia Sommers.”

“Damn. I beg your pardon, Lady Smithfield, but that boy is enough to try the patience of a saint.”

“You do not think he means to propose to Lady Cynthia?” Lady Smithfield asked fearfully.

“That uppity yellow-haired chit? I do not think so. But he’d best be careful, for she means to get a proposal if I know anything about women.” He thought a moment in silence, while Lady Smithfield observed him in dismay. “Well, I promised I would not interfere, but he’s going to ruin the whole business if he’s not careful. I think I’d better have a talk with him.”

Lady Smithfield murmured her agreement to this plan, and followed the duke from the card room into the ballroom, where they were treated to the sight of Lord Wesleigh walking through the French doors that led to the gardens, with Lady Cynthia on his arm.