Almost as though her thoughts had been heard, a gentleman approached and asked her to join him in a quadrille. She accepted gladly, determined to join the dancing and have fun.
She did enjoy herself, but when she returned at the close of several sets, she found Dunstan gone. “Where is his lordship?” she asked Sarah.
Sarah paused in her conversation with Bersford. “He said he was going to find a lady.”
“A lady!” Emily tried to compose her features. “Do you know who she is?”
Sarah shook her head. “No, Emily, I don’t.”
A lady, thought Emily with a frown. What did Dunstan want with a lady?
“My dear.” Gilcrest’s hearty tones burst into her thoughts. “I believe this is our waltz.”
Emily gave him her best smile. “I believe so, milord.” Putting her hand in his, she followed him to the floor.
It was quite different being in Gilcrest’s arms. For one thing, he seemed to hold her very tightly, in a way Emily found rather embarrassing. She tried to pull back a little, but he chuckled. “Do not be frightened, my dove. You must give yourself into my power.”
As Emily raised startled eyes to his, he smiled the cynical smile of the rake. “For the dance, of course. It is the only way to succeed.”
Emily nodded, but somewhere deep inside her something trembled. This man was evil; Dunstan had been right about that. Still, she had agreed to dance with him and surely nothing could happen to her on the dance floor. She gave herself up to the intoxicating rhythm of the waltz.
When the music ended, she found that they were the length of the ballroom from Sarah. “I should very much like to come some afternoon and take you for a drive in Hyde Park,” said Gilcrest, still keeping hold of her hand.
“I’m afraid that would be impossible, milord,” she said politely. “Lord Dunstan permits me to ride out only with him.”
A flash of anger appeared on Gilcrest’s face and was quickly gone. “Of course. How very wise of him. You will excuse me.”
Emily was slightly disconcerted to find herself suddenly alone, but she merely shrugged and began to make her way toward Sarah. She was perhaps halfway across the space between them when she saw Dunstan. He was talking to a girl, the girl in the clinging blue gown. Sharp tears stung at Emily’s eyes and she stumbled. A strong hand went immediately under her elbow to help her maintain her balance.
“Thank you,” she said and turned to find herself looking into the bright blue eyes of Alexander, Emperor of Russia!
“Miss Penthorne,” he said. “I have been waiting to make your acquaintance.” He smiled. “In a more formal manner than was possible the other day.”
Emily felt the color flood her cheeks. “I—the other day—that was an accident.”
“Of course.” Alexander bowed urbanely. “But such a fortuitous accident should not be overlooked.”
His eyes traveled over her and Emily knew that Dunstan’s estimation of the man had been correct.
“You are even lovelier at this close range,” he said, his heavily accented voice making the words extremely personal.
“I—thank you, your majesty.” Emily was at a loss for words. She knew she should move away, but the czar’s fingers still held her elbow.
“You will give me the pleasure of the next waltz, will you not, Miss Emily Penthorne?” He smiled at her warmly and Emily was aware of the man’s charm.
She was about to refuse him when her mind again presented her with a picture of Dunstan with that girl in the blue gown. “I should be delighted, your majesty.” Emily allowed herself to be led onto the floor.
As they swept round and round the room, she kept a bright smile on her face. If anyone was watching—Dunstan in particular—she wanted him to see that she was enjoying herself. If he could talk with that brazen creature, then assuredly there was no harm in her accepting a waltz with Alexander.
“You are very good,” he said as the music ended. “I have been much intrigued by our meeting the other day. Much intrigued.” His blue eyes held an invitation, and for one wild moment Emily wanted to respond to it. That would show Dunstan!
But common sense came to the fore. “I assure you, your highness, the other day was a complete accident. I was very embarrassed by it.”
His smile told her clearly that he did not believe a word she said. “Yes,” he repeated. “I am much intrigued. I should like to see you privately, away from all this noise.”
“Your highness!” Emily’s indignation was not feigned. She found this proposition insulting to the highest degree. “My guardian would never consent to such a thing!”
Alexander smiled wisely. “Of course, my dear. But you may go shopping ...”
Emily frowned. “I am truly sorry, your highness, that the accident of the other day should have so misled you as to my character. I do not have such meetings as you suggest. They are— improper.”
He bowed urbanely. “Of course, of course. I quite understand. But still, I shall be hoping. Perhaps you shall decide to visit Madame Ferre’s again, eh? Perhaps I shall be accidentally in the neighborhood.”
Emily shook her head in exasperation. What was wrong with men? Could the creatures never believe the truth when it was told them?
“How you spend your mornings is your own concern, your majesty, but if you think to see me on Bond Street, you will be disappointed.” Without waiting for further conversation, she made her way toward Sarah.
Surprisingly Sarah and Bersford were not deep in conversation when she approached them. They both turned accusing eyes upon her. I could not help it, Emily felt like screaming. Why must everyone misunderstand me? “He’s the Emperor of Russia. I could not refuse to dance with him.”
“And is that all he wanted?” asked Sarah sternly.
“Of course it was,” lied Emily. “What else could he want?”
Since Sarah was deterred by Bersford’s presence from pursuing the subject more specifically, the matter was dropped, but Emily found that her joy in the evening had fled. Dancing with other gentlemen was now a duty she performed, rather than a pleasure she enjoyed.
Even when Dunstan returned to stand beside her, she could not capture her earlier enthusiasm. “You have become strangely quiet,” he observed dryly.
Emily sighed. She wanted above all to ask him about that girl, but she dared not. He, in his turn, had certainly seen her with Alexander, and yet he made no comment on the matter. Probably he intended to wait until they reached home. Her head began to throb at the thought. “I—I find I have a touch of headache.”
“We can leave now if you prefer,” he said with alacrity.
Emily sighed deeply. There was no use putting off the inevitable. If they were going to come to cuffs, she might as well get it over with. “Yes, milord, I believe I should. Let us go home now.”
They were soon in the carriage and soon at the house in St. James’s Square. As they reached the foot of the front stairs, Dunstan turned to Sarah. “I have a little matter to discuss with my ward. Good night, Miss Parker.”
“Good night, milord,” said Sarah.
As she followed him to the library, Emily tried to compose herself. She had done nothing wrong; she assured herself of that. In fact she had refused two assignations. But she dared not tell him that, or the very fact that they had been offered would enrage him even further.
He shut the door behind them. “Emily, I must speak to you seriously.” ‘
“Yes, milord.”
“You do not seem to understand my concern for your reputation. Tonight, for instance, you waltzed with Gilcrest—and then Alexander.”
“You were not there to dance with me,” she defended herself. “All I did was waltz. Surely there is nothing wrong with that.”
Dunstan scowled. “The waltz has been known to give men ideas,” he said sharply. “It is not wise to encourage a man like Gilcrest.”
“I did not encourage him,” repeated Emily.
Dunstan ignored this. “And t
hen you waltzed with Alexander, to whom you have never been introduced.”
“He knew my name,” said Emily and knew instantly that she had made a grave mistake.
“Of course he did! He went to great pains to find it out. And then he got Princess Lieven to issue you a voucher to Almack’s so that he could meet you.”
Emily stared at him. “But why should he go to all that trouble merely to meet me?”
Dunstan’s scowl deepened. “Do not annoy me excessively,” he snapped. “It is abundantly clear that Alexander hoped for more than an introduction. The accident of the other day and your apparent friendliness with Harriette Wilson led him to believe that he could get more.” He eyed her closely. “I cannot impress upon you enough what dangerous ground you are treading here, Emily. Neither Gilcrest nor Alexander are novices in the petticoat line. When they pursue a woman, they expect to get results. Certain ladies of the ton are already convinced that Alexander will continue to meet you privately.”
“Certain ladies in blue gowns with damped petticoats no doubt,” cried Emily, hardly knowing what she said.
The viscount stared at her. “I am the guardian here,” he said stiffly. “I had a matter to discuss with the young lady, but that is no concern of yours. What I wish to impress on you now is the utter stupidity of your consenting to any such meetings.”
“Of course, milord,” replied Emily far too sweetly. “I understand. You forbid me to meet secretly with Lord Gilcrest or the emperor. Is that all?”
Dunstan frowned. “Do not be deliberately perverse. I am acting in your best interests.”
In spite of the fact that she knew he was right, Emily bridled. “I should think that you might give me credit for a modicum of common sense. Just because my handkerchief slipped from my fingers at an inopportune time, you imagine that I am about to embark on an affair with the emperor. And now you suspect me with Gilcrest, too! I am amazed that you do not forbid me the carriage entirely. Certainly that would fit more appropriately your high-handed ways.”
Dunstan’s face paled and Emily wondered if she had pushed him too far. Well, she told herself defiantly, it was time he learned not to treat her like a child.
For long moments he stared at her, the muscle in his jaw twitching ominously. “I shall not refuse you the carriage,” he said finally. “It would be futile. I know you well enough to be sure that carriage or no, if you desired to arrange such a meeting, you would find a way to do so. And, if you were bent on such a foolhardy scheme, you would be safer in the carriage.”
“You are too kind, milord,” replied Emily caustically. “And now, if you have no more remarks to make on the negative aspects of my character, I shall retire to my bed and leave you to your suspicions.”
For another long moment they stared at each other and then Emily turned and marched out. He was infuriating, she thought as she made her way up the stairs. Absolutely infuriating! Here she was, madly in love with him, wanting nothing so much as to belong to him, and all he could do was berate her about other men. As though those others meant anything to her. Why, she could not even really enjoy waltzing with anyone but him. It was absolutely humiliating!
CHAPTER 11
The next several days passed quickly. Emily did not ask for the carriage. She dared not frequent Bond Street for fear that Alexander might be lurking there. To meet the czar after what Dunstan had said to her would be doing it up entirely too brown. She occupied herself about the house, did some needlework, read the latest French novel, and waited for her new gown to arrive. She was hoping that Dunstan would like her gown and that Alexander would be gone from the city by the time of the ball.
On the third morning after the trip to Almack’s, Emily entered Sarah’s room to find her friend in tears. “Sarah! What ever is the matter?”
Sarah wiped at her eyes. “It’s—it’s nothing. I’m just feeling weepy.”
By now Emily had noticed the note in Sarah’s hand. “Sarah Parker,” she said sternly, “don’t tell me any such Banbury tales. You’re holding a note from Bersford and it looks like bad news.”
Sarah made no further effort to hide her distress. “It is Bersford,” she said. “His parents are still against the match, and we shall have to wait another year until he comes into some money left by his uncle. Oh, Emily, I am frightened. I don’t want to lose him again.”
“Now, Sarah.” Emily was a little surprised to see how well she could function as a consoling friend. “Don’t fret yourself. All sorts of things may happen to let you marry sooner. You won’t lose Bersford, dear. He loves you.”
Sarah seemed to perk up at this and Emily continued in the same vein until she had jollied her friend into better spirits. Then, when Sarah was once again her complacent self, Emily smiled. “I have some correspondence that I must attend to this morning. You will not go down in the dumps again, will you?”
Sarah returned her smile. “No, Emily. I am better. It’s ungrateful of me to feel sad when I have so very much.”
Emily nodded. “I’ll see you later then.”
As she made her way to her room, the plan that had been forming hazily in her mind began to take shape. She meant to write to Uncle Cyril to ask him to settle some of her inheritance on Sarah. There must be a way to do it, Emily thought, a way so that Sarah would never know where the wonderful gift had come from. Then she and Bersford could be happy. After all, thought Emily with a deep sigh, someone should be happy.
She settled at her writing desk and outlined her plan in a letter to Uncle Cyril. How very good it made her feel to be able to do something for her friend, she thought as she sealed the letter and rose to find a footman to send on its way. It was utterly stupid to let a thing like money separate two people who loved each other. There was enough difficulty around love, she thought as she sent Jeffers off to post the letter, without dragging money into the picture.
This done, she wandered restlessly from room to room, trying to dissipate the terrible longing for Dunstan that consumed her. And what, she told herself as she gazed out the window, would she do if Dunstan were here? She could not run into his arms where she felt safe. She could not declare her love for him, a love that was now the whole center of her life. In fact, if he should appear now, they would most likely end at cuffs. They almost always did.
How strange, thought Emily as she moved back toward a bookshelf in search of a book, that her partiality for him should have grown stronger and stronger as it had. Of course, it had had a good start, nursed as it had been through the long winter. It had certainly been quite strong that day when he passed her on the road, but now it was doubly strong and she knew no way to combat it. In fact, she had given up trying. No other man seemed at all appealing in the role of husband.
A slight sound at the door caused her to turn. Parks stood there, looking rather disconcerted. “Yes, Parks?”
“You’ve a caller, miss, a Lord Gilcrest.”
“Gilcrest!” Emily’s hand flew to her mouth. How had the man dared to come here!
She stared at Parks in bewilderment. “I don’t understand. Has his lordship left any instructions in the matter?”
Parks frowned. “Lord Gilcrest has never been a caller here, miss. I’ve no idea what the viscount’s wishes are.”
Emily felt her heart pounding. She did not want to be rude, but she did not want to see Gilcrest. She most especially did not want to make Dunstan angry with her again. “Please, Parks?” She appealed to the old butler.
His face cleared. “Well, miss, if you don’t wish to see the gentleman, you may be out.” He frowned. “Though I should have known that sooner so as to tell him right off. Or you could have a headache and be indisposed.”
“That’s it, Parks.” Emily beamed. “Oh, what a blessing you are. I have a headache, such a headache as no one has ever known. Do hurry and tell him so.”
“Yes, miss. Right away.” With a smile of obvious satisfaction, Parks departed to do his duty.
Emily sank into a chair, her le
gs trembling. She had no wish to see Gilcrest, especially if it meant that Dunstan would be angry. How could he be otherwise, she thought, considering the animosity that existed between the two men.
She spent some moments speculating on the nature of the tension that she had observed between the two, but was no nearer finding a reason for it when Parks reappeared. “Lord Gilcrest sent his regrets and wishes for your speedy recovery. He will call again tomorrow.”
Emily caught her breath. How persistent the man was!
“Thank you, Parks. You’ve been a big help.”
“You’re quite welcome, miss,” returned the butler and something about the expression on his face led Emily to wonder if Parks had knowledge of this matter between Dunstan and Gilcrest. But she dared not ask him. Parks returned to his duties and Emily was left to muse on the intricacies of life.
She was still musing when a deep voice sounded behind her. “So, you are at home.”
Emily turned to see the viscount staring at her.
“Of course I am, I didn’t request the carriage,” she replied in surprise.
“No, you didn’t.” He came into the room and took a chair, but he did not stretch out in his usual lazy fashion. Instead he sat upright in the chair, as though he might leave it at any moment.
“Did you expect me to be gone?” asked Emily curiously. There was obviously something on Dunstan’s mind.
He seemed to ignore her question. “I met Gilcrest’s carriage on the street,” he said, as though to no one in particular. “I wondered whom he was calling on.”
So that was it, thought Emily. “Lord Gilcrest was here,” she said calmly, waiting for his explosion. “He came to see me.”
“Ah! And did you have a pleasant visit?” The decided edge to his tone took all the politeness from his request.
“Unfortunately, we did not,” replied Emily, sure now that she had made the right decision. “I did not see Lord Gilcrest since I had Parks tell him that I was suffering from a headache.”
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