Emily and Sarah rose. “I believe that is all for today,” said Emily.
Madame Ferre followed them obsequiously to the door. “Mademoiselle Penthorne, I am honor that you patronize my establishment. You will come again when you need the most beautiful gown?”
“Yes. Thank you, Madame Ferre. Good day.”
“Au revoir.”
As the shop door closed behind them, Sarah sighed deeply. Emily turned to her. “Sarah, you do think the gown is all right?”
Her companion nodded. “The gown will be lovely. Just as Madame said. It is your meeting with Harriette Wilson that I am concerned about.”
As they climbed into the carriage, Emily sighed. “She looked right at me. I could not cut her dead. I just couldn’t.”
“We shouldn’t have gone in when we knew she was there. The viscount will be displeased.”
“The viscount? You won’t tell him about this, will you?”
Sarah frowned. “I won’t have to.”
“You think Madame Ferre will tell him? Or-” Her heart fell. “Harriette Wilson?”
Sarah shook her head. “It would not be to Madame’s benefit. Nor to Harriette Wilson’s. You have forgotten that several other ladies were present in the shop.”
“I noticed a few women. I did not know them.”
“Well, I did. One of them is a bosom-bow of Princess Lieven. And Madame Ferre spoke your name quite clearly. Another I also recognized. She is one of London’s busiest gossips.” Sarah’s frown deepened. “By now Lady Oxston will have called on at least two of her gossips.”
“Already?” replied Emily. “We have barely left the shop.”
“That matters little,” said Sarah. “Lady Oxston will have chosen the two closest.”
“But surely no one will bother to tell Dunstan. Just because I didn’t give her the cut directly?”
“Emily, Emily, you know so little of the ton. The word of your meeting will be all over London before nightfall. The ladies of the ton will not speak well of it. Your conquest of Alexander put many of them in a pet. They will be pleased to be scandalized by your exchange of friendly greetings with a demi-rep.”
Emily turned angry eyes to her friend. ‘This is absolutely ridiculous. Just because I did not insult a woman who has done me no harm.”
“Emily, Emily, you must not expect the ton to be sensible. Those ladies that censure your conduct with Alexander, and who frown on your recognition of a demi-rep may well behave with impropriety in secret. But enough of this. The ladies of the ton are not our concern. The viscount is.”
Emily frowned. “Sarah, what shall I do?”
Sarah shook her head. “I don’t know, Emily. I just don’t know. The whole thing was most unfortunate.”
By this time the carriage had arrived at St. James’s Square and Emily dismounted. She was silent as she and Sarah made their way up the walk to the house. There must be something she could do. It was terrible to sit around waiting for Dunstan to descend on her in his wrath.
As she entered the front door, she thought of it. She would tell him herself, give him all the facts. Surely then he would understand. She turned to Parks. “When his lordship returns, please let me know. I wish to speak to him.”
“His lordship is in the library,” said Parks. “He returned this past hour.”
“Good,” said Emily, as she untied her bonnet and put it into Sarah’s hands. “I shall see him right away.” Ignoring Sarah’s warning look, she marched off toward the library. Her heart was pounding in her throat by the time she reached it, but she did not pause. She would make him understand.
She took a deep breath and walked in. He was standing by the window that looked out into the street and again she was struck by the breadth of his shoulders. “Milord?”
He turned to face her, a smile creasing his face. “Miss Penthorne, you are looking well today.”
“Thank you, milord. I—I have come to speak to you about something.”
“Yes? Come and sit down. There is no need to be so formal.”
As the viscount showed her to a chair, Emily’s anxiety lessened somewhat. He would understand. “I went today to Madame Ferre’s to order a gown for Lady Cholmondoley’s ball.”
“I hope it will be blue,” he said pleasantly.
“It will be, milord. And Madame assured me that you will like it.”
He nodded. “Yes, Madame and I have come to an agreement’ about your gowns. That is fine.” He eyed her closely. “But that is not what you wanted to speak to me about.”
“No, milord, it isn’t.” She took a deep breath. “At Madame Ferre’s—there was someone else there.”
“Who else?”
“H-Harriette Wilson.” She waited, but he said nothing for a moment.
Then he replied. “You recognized her from the theater.” His voice had sobered, but he did not seem angry.
Emily nodded. “She was ordering a gown.”
He continued to listen.
“And—and when she walked out, she nodded to me.”
He still remained silent.
“And—and I nodded back.”
“You what?”
It wasn’t going to work. She saw that now. But it was too late.
“She looked right at me. I couldn’t—I couldn’t cut her dead. I couldn’t. She’s a friend of yours.” Emily was clutching at straws now and she knew it. “Anyway, I didn’t think. I just nodded back.”
Dunstan got to his feet and began to pace the room. “This is impossible. First you drop your handkerchief into Alexander’s outstretched hand, and now you strike up an acquaintance with London’s leading incognita.”
Emily stood up. She had been foolish to think that he would understand. He understood nothing. He was just an arrogant tyrant. “I did not strike up an acquaintance. I merely nodded.”
He turned in his pacing. “I suppose there were others present.”
“Yes, Sarah recognized Lady Oxston.”
The viscount’s face darkened. “London’s busiest gossip. She would have to be there. Who else?”
“A bosom-bow of the Princess Lieven.”
His lordship muttered a curse. “The princess! Now you’ve done it up brown!”
“I don’t understand.”
“The Princess Lieven is an intimate of Alexander’s. By now he knows that the beauty he saw the other day has a nodding acquaintance with London’s best-known incognita.” He glared at her. “Now he will certainly attempt to see you.”
“I shall simply be out.”
His lordship’s frown deepened. “He will not be foolish enough to come calling. He will find some other way, unless I keep you at home until he leaves London.”
Emily’s anger flared even higher. “You wouldn’t!”
His lordship smiled cynically. “You mistake me, my dear. I would—except that the ton would certainly talk even more.” He resumed his pacing. “No, we must proceed as though nothing has happened. That will cause the least gossip.”
By now Emily was too angry to think straight. “I do not understand why my behavior was so terrible,” she cried. “What’s so wrong with nodding to her anyway? Half of London’s ladies are just as bad. They are hypocrites. Little Harry is at least honest.”
His lordship came to a halt in front of her. His black eyebrows drawn into a ferocious line, he looked down into her eyes. “Little Harry, is it! The next thing you will be giving me a list of her conquests. I have had enough of this infantile behavior,” he said curtly. “Emily, go to your room, and remain there until you have a better sense of what is becoming to a young woman.”
For a moment Emily was struck speechless. Sent to her room like a naughty child!
What control she had left deserted her, and she struck out at him with her fists. “I won’t! I won’t be treated like a bad little girl!”
This time, however, his lordship moved quickly and pulled her into his arms. As she came to a halt against his waistcoat, Emily’s anger grew stronge
r and she struggled fiercely to free herself. But it was no use. He held her so tightly that she could not escape and finally her struggles ceased.
“You must learn to control yourself, Emily. Such behavior is very unladylike. We shall never find you a husband at this rate.”
“I don’t want a husband,” said Emily against his chest. It was only partly a lie--she did not want any husband but him.
He put her from him. “We will not discuss marriage now. I know that things are different in Essex, but this is London. You must learn to behave more circumspectly. Go upstairs now.”
She stiffened.
“Just to refresh yourself. I am not punishing you.” He sighed and passed a hand over his unruly black hair. “I am ill-equipped for the task of guardian. I have had too little experience with young women of your kind.”
She had no answer to this, but turned and made her way out the door. No matter what she did, she could not please him. What was she to do when men started making offers for her? She could not turn them down forever. More important, she certainly could not tell her guardian that she refused to consider anyone else because she had conceived a partiality for him.
CHAPTER 10
The next several days passed and Emily did not go shopping again. Then a footman came with a message from the patronesses of Almack’s. His lordship was at home and Emily took it to him immediately. “Look, this has come from the ladies at Almack’s.”
“Have you opened it yet?”
Emily shook her head. “I—I am afraid.”
Dunstan laughed. “Afraid? You?”
Emily did not take umbrage at this. “Last season I waited all year and I never got to Almack’s.”
The viscount took the message from her trembling fingers and broke the seal. He held up the coveted vouchers. “It appears that we are going to Almack’s.”
“Oh!” Emily could not forbear a little skip of joy. “We are going to Almack’s. Oh, I shall have to choose a gown.”
“I hope it will be blue,” he said.
“Yes, yes,” cried Emily. “Oh, it’s only three days away.” With another little skip she was off to tell Sarah the wonderful news.
* * * *
Tuesday came quite soon and Emily, as she descended the stairs in her gown of deep blue, felt her heart pounding in her throat. Around that throat hung the single strand of pearls—the pearls the viscount had told her to wear before.
The viscount stood at the foot of the stairs, resplendent in knee breeches, white cravat, and chapeau bras. She paused as she reached him and looked up into his face. There was something in his eyes that reminded her of their first meeting and she reddened.
“You are quite lovely tonight,” he said. His eyes lingered at her throat. ‘Your choice of jewels was wise.”
“Th-thank you, milord,” Emily replied.
Then Sarah appeared and they were off. As the carriage hurried up the street, Emily looked out the window. “Gracious, it’s almost as crowded as Drury Lane.”
His lordship nodded. “Yes, Almack’s is very popular. All the mamas want to display their daughters. It’s really a marriage mart. Your voucher gives you the chance to be surveyed by prospective husbands.”
Emily frowned. “Ugh! How mercenary. Like being on display in a shop window.”
His lordship shrugged. “That is the way it is done.” He looked out his window. “The crush will be worse later. I have come early on purpose so as not to risk being turned away. Old Willis is adamant about the hours the ladies have agreed on.”
“I hope I shall be able to remember the steps to the waltz,” said Emily nervously. “I have not practiced for some time.”
“I shall lead you out myself,” said the viscount. “There is really nothing to fear. You just lean back on my hand and follow.”
“Yes, milord,” said Emily, wondering what he would say if he knew that just the prospect of being in his arms made her pulses pound.
Finally the carriage approached the door and Dunstan helped Emily and Sarah out and escorted them up the stairs. As they entered the ballroom, Emily felt his lordship’s grip on her elbow tighten and heard him mutter something indistinguishable.
“Milord?” she inquired, but he shook his head and did not repeat himself.
Emily saw that the ballroom was rather large and barren. Along one wall was arranged a row of chairs and upon the chairs were enthroned a number of stout dowagers. None of them was dressed with much élan, thought Emily, eyeing their gowns with distaste. One woman looked particularly shocking. She was wearing green-and-white striped silk that would surely have been more suitable on a sofa. Over her unusually jet black curls towered an enormous orange ostrich plume. It swayed dangerously as she leaned toward her neighbor.
“Who is that in the green-and-white silk?” Emily asked Dunstan, receiving a frown in reply.
“Lady Oxston. Mark my word, she will see everything you do—and some things you don’t. So have a care.”
“I shall,” replied Emily, now recognizing in this flamboyant peacock one of the nondescript ladies at Madame Ferre’s.
She looked around her. The ballroom was perhaps half full and more guests were arriving every moment. Emily became engrossed in examining the gowns of the women. It was clear that some ladies had damped their petticoats, and that some of them were not particularly young ladies. Emily felt the color rise to her cheeks as one young woman passed. She was wearing a gown that could have been the twin of the one Dunstan had insisted on returning. The way it clung left no doubt that her petticoat, and a light one, too, had been liberally damped. Emily, turning to the viscount to admit the correctness of his decision, found that his eyes were following the young woman with attention.
The words of apology died in her throat as terrible waves of jealousy swept over her. So! She could not wear anything so brazen, but he could admire it on other women. She turned away and with great effort restrained herself. She would show him! She would just show him that men could find her attractive too, and without her brazenly displaying herself like a common lightskirt.
She let her eyes rove over the room. What she needed was the attention of another man, someone who could make the viscount jealous. If only that were possible, she thought with a sigh.
Then her eyes were caught and held by those of a tall, fair man with a sharp face. Lord Gilcrest smiled and Emily inclined her head the barest minimum.
She turned immediately to Sarah and his lordship, who were busily engaged in a conversation about Bersford’s future, and pretended to be immensely interested. How Dunstan would rage if he discovered that she had countenanced Gilcrest’s smile. Fortunately, he need never know.
“Ah, Dunstan.” Gilcrest’s hearty accents caused the three of them to turn. “I see our charmer here has earned the right to enter the sacred portals.”
“It appears so,” said the viscount dryly.
Gilcrest turned to Emily. “May I say, Miss Penthorne, that I am pleased beyond measure to see you here. You have made my evening complete.” He bent low over her gloved hand.
“You are too kind, milord,” she replied. Her eyes were caught by his as he raised his head and something in them caused her to shiver. There was a look there, as of a predatory beast, she thought. But then the look was gone and Gilcrest was all genial affability.
His fingers still held hers, and when Emily sought to withdraw her hand, his grip tightened. “I must ask you for the favor of the next waltz,” he said urbanely.
Emily’s breath quickened. One glance at Dunstan told her clearly that he was quite angry. His features remained serene, but a telltale muscle in his jaw quivered.
Emily smiled ruefully. “I am sorry, milord, but I have promised my first waltz to my guardian.”
Gilcrest frowned momentarily, but quickly rallied. “Then I shall return later.” He turned to his lordship. “I must say, Dunstan, that this is deuced unfair. You have this gem at hand all the time while the rest of us—” He smiled again at Emil
y. “Until later,” he said and then went to seek another partner.
Emily looked to his lordship. The muscle in his jaw had ceased quivering, but he did not smile at her or offer a compliment. Instead, he frowned. “I do not like that man. He is a fortune hunter, out for the main chance.” He turned to her. “Well, I suppose we must have our waltz now so as not to prove you a prevaricator.”
Emily felt the anger rising. He needn’t be so condescending about it! After all, he had said he would lead her out
“If you find waltzing with me too much trouble,” she said sharply, “it is quite all right. I’m sure I shall have other partners.”
His lordship gave her a surprised glance. “I’m sure you shall, but don’t fly up in the boughs on me. I said I would lead you out and I shall.” He took her hand and led her to the dance floor.
Emily’s fingers were trembling and her knees felt weak. It was not the prospect of dancing that affected her so, but the thought of being in Dunstan’s arms.
The strains of the waltz swept through the room and Emily, caught up in his lordship’s arms, was swept with them. Round and round the room they whirled. Emily caught only glimpses of the faces around them as they dipped and swirled. She was lost in the glory of being in his arms, of being close to him as she had yearned to be for so long.
The waltz was exhilarating, and when the music drew to an end, she found her irritation with Dunstan had vanished. “That was great fun,” she said, smiling up at him.
There was no answering smile on his face.
“You waltz admirably. You need have no further fear.” He led her back to Sarah. All Emily’s elation fled as swiftly as it had come. He seemed always to be saying the very thing that irritated her.
As they approached her friend, Emily saw that Bersford had arrived. Now, she thought bitterly, she would have no one to talk to. Sarah and Bersford were a world to themselves and Dunstan seemed particularly edgy. That seemed strange to her, for he had certainly been affable enough in the carriage. She sighed. She had so wanted to enjoy this evening. Then she straightened her shoulders. Well, she would enjoy it. Let his lordship be out of sorts if he chose, she did not have to be affected by it.
Love's Folly Page 8
