“I know, but I was so distracted with the suitor issue in London.”
Edmund would have commented, but Emily quickly changed the subject back to Christmas presents.
On the way to town, they discussed Cousin William and his sisters as well as their other friends. They talked about gifts and skating and horseback riding. Edmund brought up the topic of the duke several times, but Emily adroitly side stepped her brother’s inquiries.
Edmund patiently accompanied her to several stores looking for something for their Mother, but they remained empty handed. “I did see a sewing basket when I was browsing the other day,” Emily said thoughtfully. “I suppose I could purchase that and perhaps put several skeins of embroidery thread inside.”
“I think she would like that,” Edmund said. “She does say sewing relaxes her.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Emily said. “It is a very relaxing hobby. It’s decided then.”
By the time the siblings arrived at Harry Cole’s Haberdashery a few minutes later, Edmund was decidedly bored with shopping.
They unexpectedly met with Henrietta and her maid. They spoke for a few minutes and Emily mentioned that she and Edmund still had to stop at the cigar shop.
“Why don’t you join us for tea?” She invited Henrietta. Emily had started to warm to the girl and thought they could really be friends. She had her doubts the last time they took tea, but Emily thought perhaps she had in her own jealousy misjudged the lady. She wanted to be charitable this Christmas season.
“I would like that,” Henrietta said with a genuine smile as they continued to browse the various notions on display in the shop.
“Why don’t I buy the cigars?” Edmund said seeing a way to escape shopping with his sister now that Henrietta and her maid were also present. “I will meet you both at the teashop when you are finished. In fact, if you do not mind, I shall be at the pub side of the Arms. Have the footman bring you both over to the Northwick Arms tearoom and send word when you are ready to return home.”
“That sounds fine,” Emily said. “Henrietta and I will not be long.” She promised.
“No, certainly not,” Henrietta said.
Emily fully felt herself increasingly at ease with Henrietta while they selected the basket and Emily picked out threads for her mother. Henrietta laughed and found interesting things for them to add.
She talked about many things without any hint of spiteful gossip or rumor. Emily learned much about her reaffirmed friend. She discovered that Henrietta had an eye for color and helped her choose just the right threads to include.
“Is there anything else you wanted to purchase,” Emily asked while the haberdasher, Mr. Cole, wrapped her basket and threads.
“I just need to find a palate of watercolors.”
“Here? In the haberdashery?” Emily inquired.
“Yes, they carry a limited amount of watercolors and brushes. I keep telling Mr. Cole he should stock more, but I don’t think the other ladies go through paints as fast as I do.”
“Have you done many watercolors?” Emily inquired.
“I have,” Henrietta said. In fact, Henrietta revealed that she had sold several paintings in recent years to well-moneyed buyers. Even the Regent had taken one miniature for his mother’s bedside table.
“You must be quite the skilled artist,” Emily said.
Henrietta smiled at her with a slight flush. “You are kind for saying so.”
“They sound quite lovely.”
“Of course I gave all the proceeds to charity as I should,” she added with a wave of her hand. “I would never have need to keep such things for myself. After all, I am not a professional artist.”
“A philanthropic hobby, then,” Emily observed. “I am afraid that I have no such talent.”
“Nonsense,” Henrietta said. “Your embroidery bests any I have seen.”
“My mother taught me,” Emily revealed. “She loves that sort of thing, embroidery and needlepoint.”
“I remember. Those needlepoint pillows you made did well at the auction for the orphanage.”
“Oh that was years ago,” Emily said.
“Nonetheless, it is true.”
Emily nodded. She did donate her work as well, but she did not have the passion for it that she saw in Henrietta, and she said as much. For Emily, it was a productive way to pass the time, and besides, a lady must have a talent.
They walked out onto the thoroughfare and Emily looked each way to get her bearings. She saw Griffith with the carriage across the way.
“The Arms is this way,” Henrietta directed. “We could walk.”
They started to amble along as they waited for Griffith to bring the carriage around on the busy street filled with all manner of Christmas shoppers, carolers and Christmas cheer.
“Miss Ingram?” a voice came from behind and she turned to make sense of it Mr. Benedict, a playmate from her childhood, and one who had always been far too willing to force his aide upon Emily, approached with a grin and clasped her hands in greeting.
He completely ignored Henrietta. Could Benedict not see that Emily was with her companion, whom he rudely spurned in spite of Emily’s multiple attempts to bring Henrietta into the conversation?
“You look to be in need of an escort,” he said.
Mr. Benedict had set upon her and would not budge. Emily plastered a smile upon her face, but felt dread that she might not be able to politely rid herself of the man as he walked with them.
“We are only going a short distance,” Emily protested. “My brother is waiting at the Arms.”
The man pursed his lips. “In the pub?”
Emily could sense the censure in his tone. She began to explain that the footman would go find Edmund when they were ready to return to Sandstowe, but she realized she had no need to explain to the man.
“I am glad to see that you are well,” he repeated for at least the third time.
“Why, might I ask, would I not be well, Mr. Benedict?” Emily asked finally with an edge to her voice.
“It is only that I have thought,” his eyes strayed to Henrietta whom he had still not addressed, and he continued a little nervously. “It must by trying on your nerves to constantly have to curb your brother and his wayward friends. Surely, he does not expect to have you find him in a pub.”
“Of course not. I shall send, Griffith,” she said indicating the driver and footman who was struggling through traffic to get to them. Several carriages had pulled aside for other ladies and were blocking the narrow way.
“It is just that you have always been so proper and refined, ever the victim of their unruly ways.” Mr. Benedict’s eyes again strayed to Henrietta and Emily thought it was both Henrietta and her brother that he felt were not fit company.
Emily ruffled a bit in his saying that Edmund was less than genteel company even though she had chided her brother for the same. “I would not say that I was a victim in the past,” she replied with cool civility. “Rather a willing compatriot.”
“Oh, I meant no offense,” he stammered. “Only that if you would prefer more refined company; why then, I would be your willing companion. Have you seen much of Northwick since your return?”
“More refined company?” Emily repeated.
“Mr. Benedict,” Henrietta stepped forward and pursed her lips. “I hardly think you shall gain my friend’s regard by insulting her brother.” Her words were stern and yet delivered with a smile which was particularly cordial since the man clearly included Henrietta in his insult.
“Or my friends,” Emily added turning away and tucking Henrietta’s arm around her own. “Good day, sir,”
For a moment Emily thought that Mr. Benedict might follow and in that moment she wished to turn in a shop for ribbons and lace, but Henrietta gave Mr. Benedict her best reproachful stare and he desisted.
The man finally bowed away with a mumbled apology.
“Honestly,” Henrietta hissed. “That some men can think to endear th
emselves by putting others down grates my nerves. I have never cared for Johnathon Benedict and I only pray that someday he gets scalded for all his stirring of the pot.”
“He did seem rather self-righteous.” Emily considered Henrietta and her words to Benedict and was glad of her help. “That was done as a friend,” she said in amazement.
“I am your loyal friend,” Henrietta replied with a squeeze of Emily’s hand, “and hope you are mine.”
“Of course,” she reassured Henrietta. “I should tell you, my good opinion was restored long before this moment,” Emily said and it was true.
Emily started to turn to wait as Mr. Griffith brought the carriage up, but noted a gentleman’s shop with a silk shirt in the window. The silk shirt sported silver cufflinks and she realized that the shop was for metalworking. The store was not here when she had last been in Northwick, but Emily thought the metalsmith was quite talented. The cufflinks were unique.
“May we?” she said to Henrietta, looking at the shop.
“If you wish,” she said and with a brief wave to Mr. Griffith so he could see that they stopped at this store, the ladies went into the shop.
All of Emily’s other gifts had been decided, and she had thought her shopping was reduced to browsing, but she was sure the cuff links were perfect the moment she laid eyes upon them. The shopkeeper took them from the window for her to see.
“Would you mind very much if I just popped next door to the solicitor?” Henrietta asked.
“No, of course not,” Emily said. Mother would be horrified that she was alone even for a moment, but the shop was bustling with other shoppers, both men and women, and it seemed no harm when the carriage with Mr. Griffith would be right outside.
Henrietta and her maid went next door while the shopkeeper retrieved the cufflinks from the window. Emily considered them. When she held them in her hand, she was decided. For the duke, she thought as she recalled how he had always used to remove his cufflinks and roll up his sleeves.
She had not seen him in shirt sleeves for years, much less bare arms. The thought made her smile. She wondered if he still rolled them. Probably not. He would wear his jacket like a proper gentleman, and he would wear cuff links. Still, she remembered his mother, the duchess, had been in a constant state of agitation over how many cufflinks Alexander misplaced. No doubt some of them belonged to some long dead relative, and the duchess was always searching for replacements.
Henrietta returned, shoving an envelope too large for her reticule into the pouch. She looked up at the lady and smiled. Henrietta seemed to be glowing. She must have had good news at the solicitor, Emily thought, but she did not want to pry. Perhaps it was something about her father’s will.
“Those are very nice,” Henrietta said indicating the cuff links.
“They are, aren’t they?” Emily said admiring the etching.
“For your Father?” Henrietta asked and suddenly it hit Emily how very improper this gift was. She could not give something of such value to a gentleman who was not her intended; even for an intended, such a gift was on the edge of propriety. She did not care. They were perfect. Emily nodded to the shopkeeper.
“Yes,” she lied. “For my father.” She handed them back to the shopkeeper. “Please wrap them,” she said.
“Did you find everything you wanted, miss?” the shopkeeper asked.
“Yes. I believe so,” Emily said.
She and Henrietta picked up their packages and walked out of the store. Mr. Benedict was nowhere in sight. Mr. Griffith had pulled the carriage close to the door; blocking other traffic in just the same way as previous carriages had done. It was not far to the Arms, but it was brisk outside, and Emily would rather be out of the wind.
Mr. Griffith handed them both up into the carriage and told the driver to take them to the Northwick Arms.
They rode in companionable silence. Henrietta seemed preoccupied. She was smiling from ear to ear, which made Emily smile too. She thought that perhaps Henrietta must have had good news at the solicitors. It would not be good manners to ask, but Emily could not deny she was curious.
In any case it was the season of good cheer, and Emily found her own mind went back to Alexander as they rode the short distance to the Arms. She could not wait to see his face when he opened the package with the cufflinks. He was not the only one who remembered things, she thought.
She realized that Henrietta has spoken to her.
“I do apologize. I was wool gathering,” Emily said in request of Henrietta’s forgiveness.
“Not to worry,” Henrietta assured her, “I too have had much on my mind these past months. Is it a gentleman?”
The companionable squeeze and conspiratorial giggle that followed had Emily denying such a claim. Although she liked Henrietta and found her a worthwhile companion, she also knew rumor followed the lady. The last thing that Emily needed was a rumor floating about her and the duke before she had a better grip on her own emotions and of course, until she could be certain that Alexander felt the same way. He had alluded to it, but had not declared himself outright.
“No,” Emily said. “It is nothing.”
“Oh,” Henrietta looked disappointed. “I was hoping for good news,” she said.
“There is a rumor that you have good news of your own,” Emily said, fishing for details, but primarily attempting to turn the conversation away from herself.
“Yes,” Henrietta said, her face breaking into a wide grin.
“So it is good news!” Emily said catching her hands. “Who?” she asked.
“I cannot say as yet. I should not want to jinx my luck.” Henrietta said hugging her reticule close with excitement.
“But you have received an offer?” Emily congratulated her friend on a promising future.
“Not in such a formal way, not yet,” Henrietta admitted, “but if it comes to pass, I would certainly be glad of the possibility.”
“Then, I am happy for you.” Emily pulled her friend into a hug. She knew that she had misjudged the woman in the past, but truly hoped the best for Henrietta these days. Her friend had every right to feel the same happiness and Christmas cheer that Emily wished for herself. “Truly, I am,” she said.
“I would tell you,” Henrietta explained, “but I think it is best if I do not. Not yet. Oh, I am sorry, Emily. I simply cannot. I cannot risk leaving a stone unturned. I must be absolutely sure of it, and its benefits, before I would wish our association made public,” Henrietta confided. She put a finger to her lips. “I am sworn to secrecy.”
“Well, then, perhaps you should not share if you have been sworn to secrecy.” Emily offered her friend a smile so that she might know that no offense had been taken by the withholding of information.
“Oh,” Henrietta groaned and waved her hand through the air as if keeping the secret was silly to consider in the first place. “I know that you will not tell. You are a true friend. I suppose I could tell you,” she said, but seemed uncertain as to the wisdom of such action.
“No,” Emily repeated laying a gloved hand on the lady’s own hand. “I should be just as happy for you without you breaking your promise. You need not tell me anything other than that you feel joy.”
“I do. I feel such joy, I can barely contain myself,” she said. “You are a good friend, Emily,” Henrietta said hugging her again as they pulled up in front of the Northwick Arms tea room.
Mr. Griffith helped Henrietta first, and as she began to step down from the carriage, the overly large envelope meant to hold documents and deeds caught on the side of the door and nearly fell out of her reticule.
“Oh,” Henrietta said clutching at the satchel. She turned back towards the carriage and hastily stuffed the packet back into her reticule, but Emily saw the seal on it. She recognized it at once. The crest emblazoned on the front was unmistakably that of Bramblewood, more specifically, that of the Duke of Bramblewood.
She bolstered herself for a moment and clenched her fist. A thousand uncha
ritable thoughts sprang to her mind. She tried to push them away.
She knew that any assumptions that she might make would only breed hurt and confusion, and yet, that hurt had already taken root. She would not look at it. She would not confirm her suspicions.
There must be a reasonable explanation, Emily thought but she could not imagine what it could be.
“It bears the crest of Bramblewood,” Emily blurted in accusation. “The duke’s. If you have been in some congress…”
“No, it is nothing of the sort,” Henrietta hissed. She grabbed Emily by the arm and nearly pushed the lady back into the carriage that they might not be heard by others.
Henrietta shut the door of the carriage in the footman’s face leaving him standing on the street. Her voice was low. “You have promised me secrecy and I trust you more than any other. You must not tell anyone of this. You promised.”
“Why should I keep the secret?” Emily replied. “How do you have such a thing?”
Emily was torn. She felt as if she were about to be ill. Why would Henrietta possess some legal paper with the crest of Bramblewood? Why would she wish to keep it a secret? Emily’s mind raced as it ran through all manner of unhappy scenarios to explain the occurrence. None of them brought her joy.
“Please,” Henrietta begged once more.
Emily felt her heart sink to her knees. Her doubts began to rise again against the lady. Every bit of her past animosity for the woman came rushing back. What had Alexander given her?
“You promised to keep my secret?” Henrietta begged and clutched at Emily.
The footman opened the door of the carriage. “Are you quite alright, Miss Ingram.”
“Yes,” she said.
“Tell Edmund I shall wait for him here. Henrietta and I will not want tea. The lady was just leaving,” she said coolly.
Henrietta’s frantic expression indicated that some members of the town had already noted a disturbance. “Swear it,” she insisted. “Upon your honor and our friendship.”
“Upon my honor,” Emily said although it crushed her to do so. She was no longer certain she and the lady had a friendship.
The Duke's Winter Promise: A Christmas Regency Romance Page 17
