The ladies hugged one another, ever mindful of dresses easily wrinkled and coifs easily mussed, but it was an exciting homecoming.
Anne had found occasion to visit the Ingrams in London several times in recent years. The rural lady had taken every opportunity to join Emily in Town and debut her beauty about the Ton in search of a husband, but as yet Anne had not settled.
A part of Emily was glad that Anne also remained unmarried for they could cling to each other during this time of transition. Emily pulled Anne aside to chat while Aunt Agnes was busy with the older women.
“So you have no prospects?” Emily queried.
Anne shook her head, but the dreamy look in her eye said otherwise.
Emily frowned and prodded her friend.
“I have someone in mind,” Anne admitted.
“Who is it?” Emily demanded.
“All in good time,” Anne said enigmatically.
Emily was amused that Anne seemed particularly choosy for a woman with little dowry, but nonetheless, Emily loved her as one loves a sister.
“Wretch,” Emily teased. “I have told you about all of my suitors. Why will you not tell? Do I know him?”
Anne thought about the question for a moment. “Passingly well.” She said her eyes sparkling, but she was close lipped with the name, and so Emily let her keep the secret.
She and Anne were best of friends regardless of the fact that they had been separated. Emily’s worry was alleviated as the pair of women fell back into an easy camaraderie as if no time at all had passed since their last meeting.
Their friendship rekindled and Emily could say with complete assurance that Anne was the individual she most longed to find herself in company. She was excited to spend the Christmas holiday together.
“I am so glad that your mother allowed you to visit,” Anne said as they made their way to a settee on the edge of the now crowded room. “Whatever did you say to convince her?”
“I didn’t do it alone,” Emily replied “Edmund said I must come.”
“Where is Edmund?” Anne said. She glanced around the room. “I have not seen him.”
“He is riding with Uncle Cecil, much to Aunt Agnes’ consternation. They should be back soon. I expect they are making the circle and found some compatriot along the way. In any case, it took all of our powers of persuasion to convince Mother that the threat of influenza was past.”
“Yes,” Anne agreed with a solemn nod. “I was so sorry to hear of the death of William’s mother. Kate was a dear woman. I am most glad you did not come this autumn,” Anne continued. “It was dreadful.”
“You did not catch the influenza, did you?”
“I did not,” Anne said. “But Mother and Father were both ill. It was a nightmare. I was so worried for them. Neither are in the best of health and then, when I learned that Kate had passed, I worried even more. Those poor motherless lambs,” Anne added with a sad smile.
“Yes. I must admit, I am at a bit of a loss,” Emily said. “Edmund and I are so close in age I never had a significantly younger sibling. I hope I can be some comfort to the girls.”
“I am sure you will,” Anne said. “Just remember how your Aunt Agnes was with us.”
“Those are large shoes to fill,” Emily protested.
“When shall you need to return to Town?” Anne asked as they clasped hands. “Not soon, I hope. You will stay all the way through the holiday, shan’t you?”
“Mother would prefer I return after the New Year, but Edmund is determined to make it all the way through the Epiphany, or further.” Emily revealed. “Of course, Aunt Agnes said she wrote and invited my parents to join us for Christmas.”
“You don’t think Lord and Lady Kentleworth will come, do you?”
“They haven’t in the past. They have no love of the country. They will expect me to arrive for the Season with bells in my hair, so to speak. Spring will be soon enough for me.”
“Then it is decided?” Anne whispered. “You will wed this spring? I know your father is determined, but certainly your mother can be reasonable.”
“Such was the agreement,” Emily shrugged. “I will have the Christmas holiday to consider and then I must put aside my dilly-dallying and make my choice.”
“And have you? Made your choice?” Anne was well aware of the two leading prospects although Emily had never sensed any interest at all from the position of her dear friend. If Anne were given the choice, since the Albrights had maintained a lasting friendship and loose family relationship to the Firthleys, Emily knew that Robert Hawthorne would not be her preference.
“I have been considering Robert Hawthorne,” Emily admitted.
Anne confirmed her opinion. “Oh, but Emily, if you marry a Hawthorne, your husband will never consent to you visiting a Firthley.”
“You are no Firthley,” Emily said shaking her head.
“But visits will be curtailed, rest assured,” Anne said.
“Mother reminds me daily that he shall be an earl one day.”
“When pigs fly,” Anne retorted.
“Do you not mean when pigs die?” Emily whispered, and Anne burst out laughing.
“Oh Em you are awful. You see, you cannot marry that man feeling as you do about his grandfather.”
“There is something to be said for hardy stock,” Emily argued.
Anne shook her head. “It will not do. Have you forgotten, I am related by marriage to the Firthleys.”
“Oh, bother that old feud. Who cares about that ancient thing?”
“Ancient men, I imagine, one of which is Robert Hawthorne’s grandfather, Earl of Thornwood. The odds of visits between us would be increased with your marriage to Reginald Beatram, and his sister Lady Patience is a button.”
Emily could not help but sigh dramatically.
Anne smacked her with her fan. “Lord Barton is nice,” Anne said. “If not exactly handsome.”
Emily still wrinkled her nose, and Anne shook her head. “Now, who is being particular? Reginald has much more chance of becoming an earl in our lifetime,” Anne added dryly.
“His family is from the south.” Emily argued. “There is no feud to think of, but it would put even more distance between us. Besides, I just do not think Reginald Beatram will do for me. I cannot even imagine. I mean…the thought of children with Reginald…” Her face must have blossomed into a blush, because Anne poked her shoulder.
“Oh that,” Anne teased.
Both girls dissolved into giggles.
“So who else?” Anne insisted.
“I do not know.”
“Very well, then. We must find you someone suitable nearby. You do want to visit Northwickshire, do you not?”
Emily nodded.
“What about Sir Joshua Clements?” Anne said. “I hear tell he is looking for a wife.”
Emily shook her head. She did not think her Mother and Father would accept a simple knight. They had high expectations for their only daughter. Nonetheless, she spoke. “I do not know him. You will have to introduce me.”
“I think he shall do very well.” Anne sniggered.
“Truly?” Emily sensed her friend was up to some mischief.
“Truly. And you shan’t have to live with him long. He is nearly as old as Robert Hawthorne’s grandfather and not half so hardy.”
“Anne!” Emily chided, while Anne burst into a fit of laughter. She nearly bent in half with merriment.
“It is a pity Ned Compton’s character is questionable,” Anne said once she had recovered. “Rumor is he has more money than the Duke of Bramblewood, but I would not wish him on my worst enemy.”
Emily shivered suddenly.
“In spite of his wealth,” Emily said, “and you know I care nothing for it, I feel that Mr. Compton’s new fortune could be as easily lost as it has been found. That sort of pendulum swings both ways.”
Besides, she thought, Ned Compton was a man too much like the Duke of Bramblewood; only Ned did not have a title to reco
mmend him. He was the sort of man who might wed a lady and lock her away from society, only so that he might gallivant about beyond her notice.
This brought home the fact that Emily had to be careful. A husband was in control not only of his wife’s purse, but also her person. Best to find one who was kind above all else and from good family. It always came back to the Hawthornes or the Bertrams.
The Bertrams were wealthier than the Hawthornes, but Emily felt nothing when she looked at Reginald. Still, he was kind. Robert Hawthorne was tall and good looking.
“Robert is steady,” Emily said. “I cannot see him carousing, or drinking and gambling away the estate.”
“His grandfather would make you an early widow if Robert tried,” Anne said as she sipped her wine, and then she grew serious. “There is something to be said for steadfastness,” she added. “Drunkenness is the bane of marriage.” She raised her own wine glass with a giggle, and Emily shook her head.
“It sounds to me as if you have made up your mind,” Anne questioned with a lift of her brow.
“I don’t know,” Emily said, but she thought, yes. Robert Hawthorne was her preference if she had to choose. He was everything that she had been taught to desire in a man.
He was calm and reasonable, staunch to be exact. He was independently wealthy and stood in line to inherit his grandfather’s earldom. He had outgrown his childish ways, if he had ever had them at all. Honestly, Emily could not imagine him being playful or surprising in the least.
He must have been a very steady child, she thought, and then she remembered her earlier thought about dull women. Well, there were dull men too. Robert was quite possibly one of them.
“I do enjoy Robert’s sisters,” Emily admitted after a time, thinking of Eleanor, Lily, and Grace. She did not know the youngest sister well. Although it was no profession of love for the man himself, it was the closest thing to approval that Emily could muster. He did, after all, check all of the necessary boxes.
“You cannot marry a man for his sisters,” Anne laughed. “Although they are fine ladies and would make willing companions. Do you love him?”
“Not as yet. Could I love him?” Emily corrected. “Therein lies the question…” She considered her own words for a moment. “I think I could, in a way. He is all that is proper. How can there be unhappiness in that?”
Anne hummed in response, neither in agreement or refusal of her friend’s estimation. Both ladies were on the brink of considering such things and the logic must be weighed no matter how coldly the weighing might seem.
“Let us find a more pleasant subject.” Emily released a breath and with it all the tension of the previous discourse. “I have missed our conversations. It seems an age since we last spoke face to face.”
“It has only been since the end of the Season when I stayed with you, but I agree,” Anne replied. “It seems an age. I did see Edmund upon his visit for the end of summer hunt, before this business with the influenza. He promised to pass my love to you.” She laughed and shook her head. “Did he not?”
“Of course he did, but it is not the same as visiting.”
“You know, every time he arrives I know it within an hour because the town bursts into an uproar.” Anne took another glass of wine from a footman’s tray and sipped it, looking over the glass at her friend.
“Have the troublemakers not stopped their antics?” Emily pretended to be cross with her brother and his dear friend, Alexander. Neither were boys any longer, but Emily could not think of them as men. “Edmund doesn’t tell me anything because he is sure I will scold.”
“Not at all,” Anne giggled. “They are out until the early hours at the tavern and stumble home shouting and singing loud enough to wake the dead.”
“Gentlemen will have their fun,” Emily said. “Edmund and Alexander have always been nearly inseparable.”
Anne grew quiet. “Well, there’s a thought,” she murmured.
“What is that?”
“Another suitor for you.”
“Alexander?”
Anne nodded. “He has grown quite handsome.”
The image of a smiling boy with tousled hair came to Emily’s mind. She tried to imagine what Alexander would look like now as a man. What sort of man might he be? The thought gave her pause, but she pushed it away.
“He would never do,” Emily said firmly.
She would not have the duke for her father-in-law. Robert Hawthorne’s grandfather was bad enough. The Duke of Bramblewood was as unyielding as the Earl of Thornwood and as scandalous as Ned Compton in one. As children they had all feared Bramblewood Park. It was little wonder Alexander spent his time at Sandstowe with Edmund.
“If your parents are looking for a title they cannot reach much higher.” Anne went on, but Emily shook her head.
“I could not consider Alexander,” Emily said. “Have you forgotten what he was like when he and my brother got together? They were insufferable.”
“That’s true,” Anne said at last. “I suppose you are right. At least I have not heard of any recent horse races. Mama said last year they took several spills until it became widely known for drivers to take the long route around the forest rather than the shortcut down Bramblewood’s lane.”
“Foolishness is the folly of masculine youth,” Emily commented.
“And those two have it in spades,” Anne continued. “Although, we have also been caught up with such foolishness on occasion.” Anne admitted.
“Not any longer,” Emily objected. “We are finished now. It seems that it is only boys who are allowed to go on unchanged.”
“The boys and perhaps Henrietta Milford.” Anne teased.
Memories of the past surfaced in Emily’s mind. Miss Henrietta Milford, daughter of the notorious Baron Shudley, had been in Emily and Anne’s circle since they were very young and they could not make the choice to exclude her.
As they had grown, Henrietta’s tomboyish ways, her cutting comments and flirtations had not endeared her to the other girls of their age group. Her neglectful father had let her run wild with the boys long after it was proper. Emily and Anne had gone to finishing school, and when Anne returned on holiday, she found Henrietta displayed an obsessive pursuance of the town’s young gentlemen.
“I have had letters from her,” Emily confided. “As if we were the best of friends.”
“She has written me also,” Anne said. “Her father was one of those stricken by the influenza. He passed almost at the onset.” The two grew quiet, Anne sipping her mulled wine and Emily drinking cider.
Emily had not crossed paths with Henrietta since before she had been sent away to finishing school, but their encounters in childhood had been many. Although Henrietta was not well received, Emily saw how her young cousins suffered from the loss of their parent and she could not wish that pain on anyone.
4
A feminine voice chimed from the doorway. “Emily? I never expected that you might be in residence! Oh, and Anne, it has been years, has it not?”
“Speak of the lady and she shall appear,” Anne muttered before turning to smile at their guest. “Henrietta, how are you?” She asked.
It had indeed been years. Emily recognized Miss Henrietta Milford at once, but she was hesitant to engage Miss Milford in deeper conversation.
Emily was old enough to choose her own circle of friends now. She could give Henrietta the cut. Indeed, she should. The girl’s reputation bordered on scandalous, and Emily wished her circle to be exclusive. But it was the Christmas season: a season of love and harmony. Emily would, at the very least, make an effort to be friendly.
She took a breath and put a smile on her face. “That it has,” Emily agreed. “What a fortunate occasion.”
“Might I join you?” Henrietta asked with a tentative smile. “I would hate to be an intrusion.”
“Not at all,” Anne shifted to make room for the third upon the cushion. Emily nodded her approval as well.
She was surprised to fi
nd that Miss Milford had insinuated herself into the conversation with aplomb. It appeared that much changed since their last encounter. Henrietta seemed amicable and willing to please. She asked after their families and spoke with knowledge of the harvests, expressing concern for those most affected by the flood and the flu.
For once, her golden angelic appearance matched her behavior. Not only did she greet the other girls with warmth, but she seemed genuinely interested in developing an acquaintance of substance. Emily felt silly for being so standoffish.
Henrietta sat beside Emily on the settee and grasped her hand.
“I am just glad of some female company. I cannot deny that I have longed to renew your acquaintances,” Henrietta admitted. “The whole neighborhood is filled with young men and I am in desperate need of some feminine companionship. An afternoon tea or picking ribbons would be such a relief. I cannot tell you how drab it became when you all went away to be finished.”
She cleared her throat and her expression turned serious. “I am afraid that I might have been… coarse in the past but I doubt any here would claim to be unchanged over the years. I might only hope that you will not hold me to past indiscretion and that we might begin anew.”
Emily raised an eyebrow at Anne behind Henrietta’s view. She could almost be convinced that she had never met the lady. So dramatic was the change, and so welcoming was the expression upon the lady’s face, that Emily could not help but be inclined to agree.
Anne shrugged delicately and Emily took the lead.
“Of course,” Emily said. “Tell us how you have been. I was so sorry to hear of your father’s passing.”
Henrietta hesitated before offering her reply. “I am well enough,” she admitted with a vague smile. “Father has done the best he could raising me on his own, and I am determined to make him proud.”
Emily recalled Henrietta’s father and his inability to care for his children in any sort of structured way. He had always been too wrapped up in his own activities to take notice of the young girl roaming about without proper chaperonage or instruction.
The Duke's Winter Promise: A Christmas Regency Romance Page 3
