“Then she should marry him,” Rose said.
“No, no,” Emilia replied, shaking her head. “For the princess was not in love with the man, who was a tyrannical brute. In fact, she was repulsed by him.”
“Oh, then she shouldn’t marry him.”
“Precisely,” Emilia replied. “So, do you know how she managed to get out of the arrangement?”
“She jumped off a cliff.”
“Rose!” Emilia protested. “No.”
“She ran away.”
“The princess didn’t do that, for she wouldn’t be able to survive.”
“She fell in love with someone else and ran away, and he took care of her.”
“That was a good idea, but not it either. You see, the tyrant had a brother, who was very kind and charming. Although he was not the first son and didn’t carry the family name in the same way, he could still create the union that was sought after.”
“So, she married the brother,” Rose said.
“That’s precisely it. The princess managed to convince her father to marry the brother instead, and although the tyrant fought this, in the end, both families agreed that to achieve the peace that they sought, it was the best option.”
“Well, that didn’t seem too hard to amend. I was hoping for something more dramatic.”
“That’s the moral of the story, Rose. Sometimes, there’s a simple solution to get one’s self out of a corner. The princess would have been miserable for the rest of her life had she married the man. But she learned that being trapped is merely an illusion. There’s always a sensible way out.”
Chapter 12
Emilia was feeling jubilant on the evening that she was to pay a call to Montgomery House. Dominic seemed pleased with the arrangement because Rose was to accompany Emilia and therefore she would never be alone with Simon James. Little did the father know that Emilia had already paid two calls to Harlow Greens, and unaccompanied.
Although Emilia was enjoying the carriage ride, she had to admit that the weather was a little dreary for her taste. But so it went at that time of year that the British needed to endure a bit of rain. Seated beside her, Emilia could tell that Rose was just as excited as herself, for she seemed to look out the window in a rather dreamy way.
“I shall be in love one day,” Rose said with a contented smile.
“Of course, you shall,” Emilia replied.
“What does it feel like, might I ask?”
“Well, rather extraordinary,” Emilia said, realizing that this time she didn’t feel like she was lying to her sister in the slightest. “And a bit . . . vulnerable.”
“In what way?” Rose asked.
“Well, when you’re in love, your heart is in the hands of another. You never know what they’re going to do with it. They may do as they please.”
“They may squash it!” Rose said.
“That’s a trifle violent, but it is the truth,” Emilia replied. She had to think about it for the moment. She did indeed feel very vulnerable, like her heart was in Simon’s hands. Would she need to protect herself? Simon didn’t seem the kind of man that would willingly break hearts, but what if Lady Susana came back to him, pleading for forgiveness, and Simon decided that he wanted to accept her love? Emilia would be heartbroken. And what’s more, she could never return to Lord Pendergast; not after what he had done. No, Emilia would need to move on with her life somehow, exposing her false engagement and carrying on quite alone. There was a great deal that could go wrong in the future, she had to admit.
“Father likes Simon,” Rose said softly.
“I do get that impression,” Emilia replied.
“And I think he was happy to see us off. Father is impossibly struck by the fame of that fancy artist person.”
“Kingsley,” Emilia said, by way of correction.
“Yes, Kingsley,” Rose repeated. “I look forward to seeing his paintings tonight.”
“And I’ll get to paint alongside him!” Emilia said with relish.
“Are you going to be horribly intimidated?” Rose asked.
“A bit,” Emilia replied, recalling that night where Kingsley began to paint her likeness. She remembered how nervous she felt with Kingsley’s perspicacious eyes upon her. Emilia was being viewed by a genius, and no doubt he could see every detail of her face, and not only that, he could see right through her.
Emilia thought it funny at the time that Kingsley was so affable, considering that he knew every last detail of the false engagement between her and Simon. If it were any other man, he might have judged her poorly. But Kingsley seemed like the kind of fellow who had seen a great deal in his life and accepted things for what they were. Emilia was immensely grateful for that.
“Do you think Simon will reach the same level of fame?” Rose asked.
“Oh, I don’t know that we should bother ourselves with a discussion about fame.”
“But it would mean he’d have a lot of money!” Rose protested.
“I don’t think that we should bother ourselves about money, either!”
“But it’s terribly important,” Rose went on. “You want your husband to have money.”
“Certainly, money is important for various reasons. It takes care of the necessities in life. But far more important than that is the fact that I’m marrying someone that I love. Money can only take you so far. True affection and devotion are much more important.”
“You can be so dull,” Rose protested, sitting back into the bench of the carriage and crossing her arms over her chest. “So virtuous.”
Emilia laughed to herself. Yes, perhaps her notions about life were virtuous, but she knew first-hand that there were few truly virtuous people in the world. In fact, Emilia knew that a great deal of the population was made up of scoundrels.
Lord Pendergast was a fine example. Anger filled her once more as she thought of what he had done to her. The Duke of Westmoreland did have her heart in his hands, albeit briefly, and he had squashed it with ease. Although it was hard to trust after that, Emilia still felt that she could lay her trust with Simon.
And then she remembered the kiss. In fact, Emilia could scarce think of anything else since that occurred. Never had her body been so totally ignited as when she felt her chest pressed against his, Simon’s lips pressed against hers. He had a great deal of power over her at that moment; it was palpable. Even though she was the one that instigated the kiss, with courage from she knew not where, the tables quickly turned and Emilia felt like putty in his arms. Emilia also couldn’t help thinking about what was going to happen were she and Simon to go further in their physical affections. What would the experience feel like? What would it even look like? All of these questions and more continued to play upon her imagination.
Just then, the carriage pulled up to Montgomery House, and Emilia could feel a flutter in her chest. The excitement of seeing Simon again was almost unbearable. If only Rose knew of the anticipation that coursed through her. Then her sister would truly know what love felt like. Emilia could see Rutledge immediately coming out the door, as well as several servants to attend to them.
“Good evening,” Rutledge said, and that was when Emilia saw Simon come out, but not accompanied by Kingsley. Her heart danced in her chest at the sight of him.
“Good evening,” Emilia said. She could feel Simon’s eyes upon her, and she turned to him, giving him a delighted little smile. The smile was returned, and Emilia felt her heart soar once more.
“I’m so happy you could come,” Simon said with a bow of the head. Of course, there was no longer a reason for them to stand on ceremony, but Emilia appreciated the bow.
“I’m overjoyed,” Rose said with a flourish.
They were escorted into the home, and a wave of warmth came over Emilia. Not only was it comfortable and warm inside the house, but it was also as though she could feel Simon’s enthusiasm, not unlike her own. There was excitement in the air, but the only person missing was Kingsley. Emilia began to wond
er.
“I hope that the trip was not too arduous,” Simon said.
“Not in the slightest,” Emilia replied, “although the rain is quite trying.”
“My hair got wet,” Rose announced, as though it were the most horrible bit of news that any person could share.
“Come over by the fire,” Simon said, leading them into the parlour. Emilia watched as Rose ran to the fire, knelt down in front of it, and raised her hands to it. There was something delightfully charming about the image of it. “Can I order you some tea?” Simon asked, turning to Emilia.
“That would be lovely, thank you,” she replied, watching as Rutledge scurried out of the room to procure it.
“Seat yourself,” Simon said, placing a hand upon Emilia’s shoulder to direct her. The hand was warm and strong, and Emilia felt a shiver down her spine. After seating herself, Simon did the same, and for a few contented moments, they are stared at the fire.
“Is Kingsley in the studio?” Emilia asked.
“I’m afraid that he doesn’t wish to paint today,” Simon said, his brow knit. Emilia felt momentarily confused. She thought that Kingsley was in his studio nearly every day. At least, that’s how it all was presented to her.
“Is he unwell?” Emilia asked, feeling disappointment that Rose might not be able to meet him on that occasion.
“Kingsley is prone to moods,” Simon said, although from the tone of his voice she sensed that he wasn’t telling her all.
“Is that so?”
“Yes, dark storm clouds do occasionally fly over the heads of geniuses. I’m quite accustomed to it at this point, but for those who don’t know him, it can be rather jarring.”
“And it comes from out of nowhere?”
“That’s precisely it. He’ll be his charming, focused self one moment, and the very next, he protests that he needs to return to his chambers. He doesn’t explain himself nor does he need to. Again, our rapport allows for such circumstances.”
“Well, I must say I’m a trifle disappointed, but the man should be allowed to do as he pleases.”
“Not only is he allowed, he would not accept protest in the slightest,” Simon said with a laugh.
A few moments of silence followed as they returned their attention to the fire. Emilia could feel the tension between them. Not negative tension in the slightest, but the kind of tension that is created after two people share a delicious kiss and wish to do it again.
At least, that’s what Emilia assumed that Simon might be feeling. Then the most remarkable image came to her imagination. Emilia imagined Simon taking his large hand, the one that had touched her before, and placing it upon her knee whilst they sat there. Of course, it would be impossibly scandalous if he did so.
Such contact could only be enjoyed after two people were married. Emilia considered how delicious it must be to be married and enjoy all the physical contact that one wished for in the privacy of their home. Perhaps, one day . . .
Tea was served, along with various cakes and tarts in bite-size squares. Rose began to eat the cake with relish, but not to Emilia’s liking.
“Rose, remember your manners,” Emilia said, thinking that her sister was eating too fast.
“But I’m hungry,” Rose protested.
“Just because you’re hungry doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat like a lady,” Emilia said softly, not a note of sternness in her voice.
“It’s all right,” Simon said with a smile. “I eat like that all the time,” he quipped.
“It’s no fun eating slowly,” Rose said, mocking her sister by bringing the cake to her mouth in slow-motion.
“It’s better for digestion,” Emilia assured her.
While they drank their tea and ate their cakes, Emilia wondered what they might do next, considering that the master artist had sequestered himself to his room. Before needing to come up with ideas, Simon provided his own suggestion.
“Shall we go up to the studio?” he asked.
“Without Kingsley?” Emilia replied.
“Yes, I do it all the time,” Simon assured her. “I think that Rose would like to see it,” he added, turning towards her.
“Very much so,” Rose replied with cake in her mouth, causing Emilia to playfully cock her head and narrow her eyes.
“Well then, just as soon as we finish up, we’ll climb,” Simon said.
And by ‘climbing,’ he was not over-exaggerating. Emilia knew that Rose was going to be surprised by the twisting staircase that led up to the studio. In fact, by the time they reached the top, Rose was huffing and puffing and out of breath.
“That was dreadful,” Rose protested, practically swooning.
“It’s done with now,” Simon said by way of reassurance. “Much easier going back down.”
As they entered the studio, memories of being painted there flooded her mind again. How extraordinary it was to have Simon’s eyes so keenly upon her. Just as she was thinking of it, she turned to him and discovered that he was doing it again, at that very moment. Simon was looking at her as though she were the richest gem of the ocean.
“I want to be painted,” Rose said, twirling around in pleasure.
“That can be arranged,” Simon replied, walking over to the selection of paints.
“I should like to do it,” Emilia said, thinking it remarkable that she had never used her sister as a subject before.
“I should like to do it,” Simon replied, being playfully competitive. He stared Emilia down like a hawk.
“You can both do it,” Rose said coquettishly, seating herself upon a stool.
Simon went to work to set up everything that was needed, and when Emilia tried to help, he refused. It warmed Emilia’s heart that Simon was the kind of man that when in the presence of a woman, would not allow her to do a thing even mildly arduous. Finally, once everything was sorted, Simon and Emilia seated themselves in front of their canvases and began to sketch with charcoal.
Emilia smiled to herself, thinking of the time she first came into that studio with charcoal smudged all over her face. Once in a while, in the silence, Emilia could feel Simon turning to look at her. On these occasions, she as well would turn to meet his gaze, only to then have him playfully look away. This little game continued throughout the painting session.
After half an hour, Emilia could see that Rose was becoming a tad restless, for she seemed to wiggle and shift on her stool. “This does take a long time,” Rose finally said, and Emilia had to conceal a laugh. She should have known from the start that Rose would not last long.
“We’re almost done,” Simon assured her.
“But I’m ready for it to be done now!” Rose said.
“Rose, mind your manners,” Emilia said.
Just then, there was a knock at the door, and as though it were a tremendous relief, Rose popped up from her stool and turned to the door.
“Come in,” Simon said.
Emilia could see an elderly man and woman enter the studio, and the first thing that came to mind was how the devil they got up all of those stairs.
“Simon,” the elderly man said.
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