by Jan Constant
‘ ‘I understand that you have heard of the ‘Beringer Heiress,’ ” he began, without preamble. “I had hoped that you would have been spared gossip, but now that rumor is about, it is only right that you should be made aware of the truth.” Emma sat down slowly, aware of her heart beginning a steady thump against her ribs. “Pray go on,” she said as her guardian paused, swinging away to stare out of the window, his hands clasped behind his back.
“You may have wondered why your father appointed me as your guardian,” he said suddenly. “He told me that it was because I was the most wealthy of his acquaintances.” Emma stared at him in disbelief. “I had not thought the matter would weigh with him,” she said stiffly. “My father was the least material of men.”
Sir Julian turned back into the room. ‘ ‘My position meant nothing to him—but he wished to safeguard you against the unwelcome effects riches can bestow, and he knew that your wealth would hold no interest for me.”
“My wealth? I fear that you are mistaken—I have no money nor prospects of any,” Emma assured him spiritedly.
Julian Leyton regarded her intently before replying. “Now there, Miss Beringer, you are the one to be mistaken!” he informed her.
Emma returned his gaze blankly, still disinclined to believe the unlikely story but aware that her guardian was serious. “H—how . . . why . . . w—who?” she stuttered.
A faint smile crossed Sir Julian’s face. “You sound like an owl,” he remarked before continuing, ‘‘Have you never heard of an aged great aunt of your mother, Emma Hodge? Your grandmother’s sister married a city merchant against her father’s will and was immediately disowned by her family—save for your grandmother. Mrs. Hodge had no children, and now rumor has it that she has named you as her heir.”
“How absurd!” exclaimed Emma. “I have never heard such fudge in all my life! ”
Sir Julian was amused. “How so?” he demanded, lifting one black eyebrow.
“I’ve never heard of such a person. Surely my father would have told me. He often worried over how I would manage if anything s-should happen to him, which is why I had determined upon some means of earning my living.”
“He told me that he preferred you not to know. ... I imagine that he planned on telling you in his own time. Possibly your mother wanted it that way. She may have thought that the idea of being an heiress would have altered your outlook on life. ’ ’
Emma studied his face, realizing from his tone that he was serious. “You’re not hamming me?” she asked in a voice that shook a little.
Shaking his head, her guardian seated himself beside her. “No. In fact as soon as I heard the rumor, I took it upon myself to ascertain the facts. My man of business has been in touch with Mrs. Hodge, who has indicated that she has named you as her main beneficiary.” For a moment he watched the play of emotions crossing Emma’s face. “Most would be pleased,” he pointed out.
“I have been brought up to be poor. I find that to suddenly have prospects is somewhat unnerving,” Emma admitted.
“I am afraid that you will find yourself the object of fortune hunters. Good fortune is not an entirely unmixed blessing.”
He spoke harshly, and Emma wondered what experience had embittered him. “Do Lady Beauvale and Elvira know?” she asked.
“My aunt, of course, was informed, but I leave you to tell Elvira. I have written to your great aunt, asking if she wishes you to visit her. If she does, of course I shall take you. ”
Emma studied her hands lying in her lap. “Does not that seem rather mercenary?” she wondered quietly.
“Not at all,” was the bracing reply. “If the old lady has chosen to leave her wealth to you, it is only right and proper that you should be in contact. Not to do so would seem lacking in duty.” Sir Julian paused, looking down at her reflective figure. “Do you ride?” he asked abruptly.
“Oh, yes.” Emma was surprised into saying, a sudden smile breaking across her downcast face. “In the Peninsula, you know, one had to.”
“So I had supposed. I ride most mornings. I’ve a mount that would suit you. If you care to breakfast with me about eight, I’ll take you to the park.”
“What?” exclaimed Elvira, when told of the prospective outing. “You must be in high favor. Ju utterly refuses to accompany me. He says I only have to look at a horse to fall off! And to own the truth, I do prefer to sit at comfort in a carriage.”
“They are certainly more difficult to fall off,” teased Emma, privately pleased at the thought of her first ride for several months.
“Oh, miss, you don’t half look smart!” Maria said the next morning, having helped her mistress to array herself in the riding habit her father had had made by the regimental tailor. “You’ll put all the other ladies in the shade.”
Emma smiled happily at her reflection, admiring the green, heavily frogged jacket which was a replica of the Rifle Brigades’ uniform, and adjusted the long green apron which covered her tightly fitting riding breeches. Throwing the folds of the skirt over one arm, she caught up the shako which completed the ensemble and ran downstairs.
Sir Julian stood up as she entered the breakfast room, his expression altering at the sight of her dashing outfit.
“Is it not beautiful?” cried Emma, enjoying the effect. “Papa said that as I’d kept up with the regiment, I had every right to wear the uniform. The men loved it.”
“I daresay.”
A tiny frown appeared. “You don’t care for it,” she remarked challengingly. “I had not supposed you overly conventional, sir.”
“Nor decidedly unconventional.” As her chin came up, he suddenly relaxed and held a chair for her. “You may very well start a new fashion,” he told her. “I own only to a little surprise—not disapproval, Miss Beringer. May I express the hope that your performance matches your outfit. ”
“You will not find me lacking in horsemanship,” Emma told him serenely, and set about the business of making a hearty breakfast.
Within the hour they arrived at the gates to the park, having trotted sedately through the half-empty London streets. Emma had been pleased to see that the mount provided by her guardian was a small but spirited mare, not the placid animal she had half-suspected him of offering. Sir Julian had ridden close by her side, obviously prepared to intervene should it be necessary, and once inside the park, she turned to him.
“I really am no novice, you know,” she assured him kindly.
‘ ‘I daresay—but until I know your ability, it would be both foolish and dangerous to give you free rein. ”
Lifting her brows, Emma laughed and, throwing caution aside, kicked her heels into her mount. She had intended only to gallop a short distance, just to show off her horsemanship, but the feel of the fresh morning air against her cheeks and the excitement of being on horseback again after so long proved too much for her self-restraint, and, heedless of the consequences, she settled into a headlong gallop. The mare was fresh and eager to stretch her legs, and for a while she and Emma enjoyed each other’s efforts, Emma concentrating on the merely physical demands of controlling an unknown animal and flexing muscles unused for many months.
She had just decided that the mare was entirely suited to her weight and strength, when she became aware of someone quickly catching up with her and, snatching a look over her shoulder, saw that Sir Julian was fast approaching. That one glance was enough to tell her that he was not challenging her to a race, and, as he drew level and seized her mount’s bridle, she allowed the pace to slacken.
“What the devil do you think you are doing?” exploded her guardian, having ascertained that she was not hurt, as he brought both horses to a halt.
Emma lifted her chin. “I could ask you the same thing, sir,” she returned evenly. “My actions must have told you that I was not being run away with, so I cannot imagine why you should feel able to take the management of my horse into your hands!”
Sir Julian had, indeed, suspected a runaway, but, having realize
d that his ward had her mount under control, his anger was directed at behavior which would draw attention to himself and his companion.
“May I remind you, Miss Beringer, that this is a royal park, where some degree of decorum is expected A full gallop is neither sensible nor accepted. ”
“No? Well, then I shall not do it again. It was just that I have not been on a horse for so long. ...”
Sir Julian was not to be mollified. “Reputations are easily lost—in that outfit and with unbridled behavior you could become noted as fast.”
Emma opened her eyes. “Fast!” she repeated. “You sound like a maiden aunt! I had not supposed you to have a care for gossip.”
Her guardian ground his teeth. “It is your reputation of which we talk,” he pointed out.
Emma considered him, turning in the saddle the better to see his face, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I know what it is—” she said suddenly. “You do not care for my habit. You cannot take exception to my riding, for I was taught by my father, who was noted for his horsemanship.”
“I do not question your clothes or riding ability. It is your wild behavior which I find outrageous and will not tolerate. ”
Ignoring this challenging statement, Emma, who had been staring over his shoulder, said, “There is someone trying to attract your attention. A lady on a sedate cob.”
“Yes, I know,” he replied, his voice tight with irritation. “It is Miss Plantagenet—she has been there for some time watching your antics. ”
“Oh, I see!” exclaimed Emma, enlightened. “You wish to speak to her, rather than ride after me. Let us by all means go over to her.”
“Miss Plantagenet is a model of decorum—I would have preferred you to make a good impression.”
Emma sniffed. “She sounds extremely boring,” she remarked bluntly.
‘ ‘Behave, you dreadful girl, ’ ’ ordered her guardian, before assuming a polite expression as they joined the waiting lady and her groom.
Miss Plantagenet proved to be a very genteel person, a few years older than Emma. Her riding habit, while fashionable, was so sober in style and color that Emma could quite see why Sir Julian had taken a dislike to her own dashing outfit.
“So this is your little ward,” said Jane Plantagenet, extending a hand. “How much I have wanted to meet you, Miss Beringer—and to offer any help and advice in my power. I do quite understand how different London ton must be to the company of soldiers.”
Emma stiffened slightly. “That is very kind of you—but I assure you that the society with whom I mixed were very little different from that to be found in London. Indeed, I suspect that some may even be brothers or husbands of females quite like yourself! Lady Beauvale has good care of me and will tell me how to go on.”
“How sensible—Sir Julian, what a little treasure you have here.” She fell in alongside Emma as they rode back to the entrance. Leaning sideways, she said confidentially. “One little word, dear Miss Beringer. You are not acquainted with our ways, but to gallop so wildly is not the thing. Forgive my plain speaking, but Sir Julian and I have an arrangement. ’’ She paused delicately before going on, ‘ ‘So you must think of me as almost one of the family. ”
“One of the family, indeed!” snorted Elvira a little later, when Emma repeated the conversation to her. “Jane Plantagenet is so high flown that there is no tolerating her.”
“Is she really . . . ?”
“Engaged? Not yet, but I’m afraid that she soon will be,” said Elvira gloomily. ‘ ‘I think Ju likes her because his wealth means nothing to her—she is so full of her own importance. She claims to be descended from William the Conquerer and thinks that she is more royal than King George or the Prince Regent.”
Emma had lost interest in Miss Plantagenet. “Was it very wrong of me to gallop in the park?” she asked.
“It’s not usually done,” conceded Elvira. “Ju is not usually so stiff, but I daresay that you gave him a fright, and he was annoyed that his amour was there and could disapprove. He has no liking for being put in the wrong.”
“To own the truth, I do not care for these niceties of polite behavior,” observed Emma with feeling. “Life was much easier in the Peninsula—I do so miss the easy society there.”
“Don’t be too downcast. The invitations to our dinner- dance are sent out! Aunt Diana and Mrs. Melvin have arranged the picnic to Richmond for a week tomorrow. Now, all we have to wish for is good weather. ’ ’
The skies were anxiously watched and many weather profits consulted; Hetty’s ancient uncle declaring that the weather was set fair for a month, and Mrs. Frobisher, who went by the state of her corns, was sure that rain was on the way. At last the day dawned bright and cloudless to the participants’ relief. Mrs. Melvin was to accompany the young people, and Emma and Elvira were already in the hall when Clarissa and her mother drew up in a chaise with the hood let down.
Happy greetings were exchanged and the girls handed into their own carriage by Freddie and his friend, who were accompanying the party on horseback.
“Is not this delightful?” called Clarissa as the little cavalcade set off, and, seated in the open landau, wearing a new lawn gown and a chip straw hat that she knew was becoming, Emma smiled happily and agreed with her.
The leading chaise paused at the approach to the bridge crossing the Thames, and a waiting horseman rode up and was greeted by Mrs. Melvin and her daughter.
“Oh, dear,” murmured Elvira as the landau drew level. “I do believe that is—”
“Lord Devern,” supplied Emma, a certain satisfaction in her voice.
“My dears,” called Mrs. Melvin. “Pray let me present my cousin to you. Vivian—Miss Beringer and Miss Leyton. ’ ’
Lord Devern bowed from the saddle. “Ladies,” he said, sweeping his hat from his head with a gallant gesture. “Your servant.”
His eyes lingered on Emma, and she felt constrained to ask, “Do you intend to accompany us, sir?”
His eyes dancing, he bowed again. “Nothing would stop me . . . now,” he said soitly.
Chapter Six
”Oh, dear,” repeated Elvira unhappily as the party set off once more, clattering over the bridge. “What will Julian say?”
“We cannot ignore the man,” put in Emma, “so it will be best if we behave as if he was any new acquaintance.” Privately she felt a degree of excitement at the occurrence, a shiver of anticipation sliding deliciously down her spine as she watched Lord Devern riding attentively beside his cousin and her daughter. Emma had wondered if he would ride alongside the landau, but as Freddie and Henry appeared reluctant to give up their places on either side, he smiled and seemed content to escort Mrs. Melvin and Clarissa.
By the time the party arrived at Richmond the young folk had developed hearty appetites, and luncheon was voted to be served at once. Both ladies’ cooks appeared to have vied with each other in a contest to see who could provide the best and most. Cold pies, chickens, salads, and fruit tarts in profusion were produced from the hampers and lemonade and elderflower champagne put to cool in the nearby stream.
After the repast, Mrs. Melvin declared herself wishful of sitting peacefully on the bank to drink in the beauty of her surroundings while the young people had her permission to explore a little. At first they walked in a group, but gradually Emma found herself ahead of the others with only Freddie and Vivian Devern for company.
“Freddie,” Lord Devern said suddenly, looking back. “I believe your mama is signaling to you.”
“What can she want?” wondered the younger man, screwing up his eyes and squinting at the distant figure, who was indeed waving her arm in an unusually energetic manner.
“You’d better go and find out,” suggested his kinsman.
Freddie looked from Emma to Lord Devern, reluctance plainly written on his face. “I believe it is you. . . .” he suggested tentatively. “I daresay she has suddenly remembered some family news and wishes to tell you.”
“No,” sa
id the other firmly. “I heard her call your name. Have no fear, I shall look after Miss Beringer.”
Freddie shuffled and kicked a stone, blushing as he pondered upon the effect of making an issue out of the affair. A glance at his cousin’s stony face decided him upon the disadvantages of such a procedure, and, bowing awkwardly to Emma, he reluctantly set off back the way they had come.
“I daresay cousin Lizzie is feeling lonely,” commented Vivian Devern blandly, with a sideways glance at Emma as he tucked her hand into his elbow. “Am I right, Miss Beringer,” he went on as they walked on, “in thinking that we have met before?”
Emma admired the distant landscape before replying lightly, “I doubt it sir, for I have never been in London until recently.”
“Perhaps we merely . . . passed somewhere. Portsmouth, maybe?”
Emma refused to be drawn. “As I am a soldier’s daughter, I have often been in Portsmouth, so possibly you are right,” she answered coolly, with an air of indifference.
Lord Devern stopped and turned toward her. “Do I detect a certain coolness toward me, Miss Beringer?” he asked, sounding amused.
“You must know that I am aware of old stories, Lord Devern,” she replied, returning his bluntness. “I am only surprised that you sought this outing, knowing that Elvira and I would be present.”
“My dear Miss Beringer, that is unworthy of you,” he chided gently. “If I had wished to renew my acquaintance with Miss Leyton, who was in the schoolroom when my unfortunate disagreement with Julian Leyton took place, I could have made the attempt any one of a thousand times. You are intelligent enough to realize that it is yourself whom I wish to know.”
Startled by such plain speaking, Emma raised her eyes to his face and found herself being studied by a pair of gray eyes. For a second their gazes held, while she tried to read his enigmatic expression, then suddenly, he visibly relaxed and smiled down at her.
