For Alex?
* * *
Ridley was already in the drawing room when Emma went down. He was standing by the window gazing out and, even to her eyes, he looked remarkably handsome. Somewhere along the way, the boy had disappeared and the man had taken his place. His body had filled out and his clothes looked to have been cut by one of London’s better tailors.
It seemed they had all grown up, almost overnight.
Ridley turned as she walked into the room, a thoughtful frown quickly replaced by a smile of approval. ‘I say, Emma, you’re looking quite the thing. You might just outshine our little sister.’
Emma’s mouth twisted. ‘Thank you, Ridley, but we both know there’s as much chance of that as there was of you being named first in your class.’
‘You wound me,’ he said, pretending to be hurt. ‘I never thought you could be so cruel.’
‘Do you disagree with what I said?’
‘Not a bit, but that doesn’t make it sting any the less.’
Moments later, the door opened and Linette and Aunt Dorothy walked in. ‘Oh good, you’re both here,’ Aunt Dorothy said, looking rather more flushed than usual. ‘Jenks is bringing the carriage around. Pour me a sherry, there’s a good boy. I take it we do have time for a drink?’
‘Not really, but if you’re quite quick…’ Ridley walked over to the decanter and poured his aunt the requested glass.
‘Thank you, Ridley. Never hurts to have a little liquid courage, I always say.’
As long as it was only a little, Emma thought. Aunt Dorothy enjoyed a drop of sherry. More than a drop, though no one in the family had been tactless enough to mention it. But tonight was an occasion—something out of the ordinary. It definitely wasn’t the time for Aunt Dorothy to end up lying face down in the trifle.
‘Good Lord, Linny, are you going out like that?’ Ridley asked.
Linette gasped, her lovely face turning white. ‘Like what?’
‘What are you talking about, Ridley,’ Aunt Dorothy asked. ‘Linette looks beautiful.’
‘I didn’t say otherwise.’
‘But you said—’
‘I simply asked her if she was going out like that,’ Ridley said, his mischievous grin flashing. ‘I didn’t say she wasn’t beautiful.’
‘That’s horrid, Ridley!’ Linette complained, suddenly looking close to tears. ‘I thought you were criticising me.’
‘Then take that as a lesson, my dear,’ he said. ‘Never jump to conclusions until you’ve heard everything a gentleman has to say and don’t try to read something into his meaning that isn’t there.’
‘Most important of all,’ Emma said drily, ‘never try to read anything of intelligence into anything Ridley says. That would most definitely be a mistake.’
The good-natured bickering carried on until Mr Darling appeared, but for once Emma was glad of it. They were all a little on edge, and why would they not be? It wasn’t every day one’s sister was guest of honour at a ball hosted by an earl and a countess. A ball where lords and ladies would be in attendance and where all eyes would be focused on her from the moment she stepped into the room.
How would Linette handle such intense scrutiny? Her exposure to the upper crust had been virtually nonexistent and Emma knew how deeply a careless word or a thoughtless gesture could wound. Would there be awkward silences as common ground was sought and found lacking, or would the conversations flow easily, as they did at home? More to the point, what would Linette do if she began to suspect she was falling short of everyone’s expectations? Or that her future brother-in-law, a man she had come to like and admire, even to trust, might well be leading the pack?
Chapter Eight
Ellingsworth was ablaze with lights when the Darlings’ carriage arrived in the courtyard. Liveried servants were on hand to help the ladies and gentlemen alight, to take capes, hats, canes and gloves, and to generally make sure the guests’ arrivals went as smoothly as possible.
Having been in the house before, Emma thought she knew what to expect, but even she was unprepared for the splendour that greeted her eyes upon arrival. It was evident the servants had been up since before dawn preparing the house. There were flowers everywhere, their sweet fragrance perfuming the air and serving as a bright dash of colour against the pale walls. Brass-and-silver candle-holders glowed warmly in the candlelight, the floors had been polished so that one could see one’s reflection in the black-and-white tiles and there wasn’t a speck of dust or dirt anywhere.
Peter and his mother were waiting to greet them in the hall. Lady Widdicombe looked magnificent in a gown of rose-coloured silk, a glittering diamond necklace encircling her throat and long white gloves covering her arms. Peter was equally dashing in formal black and white, his embroidered waistcoat a tribute to the tailor’s art. But Lord Widdicombe was still noticeably absent and Emma’s heart plummeted when she realised that Alex was missing too.
‘Mr Darling, Mrs Grand, how nice to see you again,’ Lady Widdicombe said. ‘And Miss Linette, you look charming. Miss Darling, you look very well too.’
Emma dipped one knee in a curtsy. ‘Thank you, your ladyship.’
Mr Darling stepped forwards. ‘Lady Widdicombe, allow me to present my son, Ridley.’
The countess inclined her head. ‘Mr Darling. I understand you’ve come down from Oxford just for the occasion.’
‘Yes, your ladyship,’ Ridley said. ‘To see my little sister marry into such a grand family I would have sailed all the way from America.’
The countess raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as Ridley was likewise introduced to Linette’s fiancé. Emma stood back and watched the exchange of greetings with interest, surprised by how easily Ridley seemed to fit in. In fact, with his dashing good looks and elegant clothes, he appeared right at home with the lords and ladies drifting through the beautiful rooms. But then, he moved in this sort of crowd now, Emma reminded herself. His clients were drawn from the ranks of the wealthy and titled and he was used to moving amongst them.
Linette, on the other hand, was like an anxious little bird, constantly looking around for the reassuring presence of her fiancé. Thankfully, he never went far from her side, preferring to stay with her as his mother moved off and the rest of them made their way into the Chinese drawing room. And finally, Emma saw Alex. He was standing alone by the fireplace, with a glass in his hand. He was watching her over the rim and Emma saw his eyes darken as they swept over her gown.
For the space of a heartbeat, she allowed herself the simple pleasure of looking back at him. What would it have been like, she wondered, had she been the one anticipating his proposal of marriage? She had been the object of his affections? Would she still feel this breathless every time he came near? Would her heart still hammer in her chest every time he stepped into a room? Or would she look at him the way so many other women regarded their husbands or lovers? Complacently. Smugly. Unemotionally.
The way Lady Glynnis Pettle might one day regard Alex.
Emma didn’t want to believe it would be that way. In fact, it was hard to imagine any woman not falling in love with Alex given half the chance. He was easily the most handsome man in the room and certainly the one with the most presence. But it was also Alex who had told her there was very little romance in his relationship with Lady Glynnis. Was she wishing for something that didn’t exist? Something he couldn’t give?
Unconsciously, Emma found herself looking around for Lady Glynnis Pettle. Having no idea of the lady’s appearance, it was impossible to make a positive identification, but Emma had a feeling she would know the lady when she saw her.
Her observations came to an abrupt end when Alex came over to join them.
‘Miss Darling, you and your sister would make lovely subjects for a painting of spring,’ he said after greetings had been exchanged. ‘Or perhaps you have already done such a study.’
‘Actually, I seldom paint people,’ Emma said. ‘I find facial expressions very difficult to capture.’<
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‘But she is good at birds and insects,’ Ridley said helpfully. ‘Be thankful you haven’t wings or you might find yourself sitting for her.’
Alex laughed, but Emma’s father was less than amused. ‘I hardly think your sister is about to become the second artist in the family, Ridley. Not as long as I have anything to say about it.’
And then, laughter, as melodious as silver bells, rang out, the sound drawing all eyes to the lady who had just entered the room in the company of Lady Widdicombe. She was tall and slender and impossibly beautiful, wearing a stunning gown of shimmering lilac silk. Her golden hair was arranged in an elegant chignon caught up with pearls and roses and she moved with the unconscious grace of a lady born and bred.
This, surely, must be Lady Glynnis Pettle, daughter of the Earl and Countess of Leyland.
‘Behold, the lady cometh,’ Ridley whispered in Emma’s ear.
Emma turned to look at him. His complexion was pale, but otherwise, he seemed composed. ‘Are you all right?’ she whispered.
‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?’
Emma had a few ideas of her own on that score, but knowing this wasn’t the time or the place, she turned back to watch Alex’s future bride approach. Lady Glynnis was clearly very comfortable at Lady Widdicombe’s side, and judging by the expression on the countess’s face, the feelings were mutual. But then, Lady Glynnis had grown up with these people. She was the daughter of an earl. Just as Alex was the son of one.
‘Ah, there you are, Alex,’ his mother said, catching sight of him. ‘I was just telling Lady Glynnis about our evening at the Parkinsons’.’
‘I am so sorry to have missed your performance, my lord,’ Lady Glynnis said with a beautiful smile.
Alex sighed. ‘I should have known you would be in a hurry to volunteer that information, Mother.’
‘Now, you mustn’t blame your mother,’ Lady Glynnis said. ‘I did hear rumours to the effect that you had reluctantly agreed to play and that you gave an outstanding performance. But since I could not find anyone to confirm which étude you played, I was forced to ask your mother.’
Emma just stared at him. Alex played the piano? He had never made any mention of that to her. But then, why would he?
‘Lady Glynnis,’ he was saying now, ‘may I present Mr Darling and his sister, Mrs Grand, as well as Mr Ridley Darling, Miss Emma Darling, and of course, my brother’s fiancée, Miss Linette Darling.’
‘Goodness, so many Darlings,’ Lady Glynnis said, her voice sounding just a little breathless. ‘I am very pleased to meet all of you. And congratulations, Miss Linette. I hope you and Mr Taylor will be very happy.’
Linette blushed, but Emma could see that she was pleased, and why would she not be? Lady Glynnis was beautiful, and charming and kind, with just a hint of the reserve that would be expected from the daughter of an earl. She smiled at each of them in turn, though when she came to Ridley, Emma noticed she didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, she turned her head to ask a question of Emma. ‘Lord Stewart tells me you are an accomplished artist, Miss Darling. Is that true?’
‘Not at all, Lady Glynnis. I merely dabble with colour and brush and my efforts are those of an amateur. My brother is the true artist in the family—’
Too late Emma realised the inappropriateness of the remark. A scarlet bloom appeared on Lady Glynnis’s cheeks, but it was Lady Widdicombe who stared at Emma in surprise. ‘Your brother is an artist?’
‘Yes, your ladyship.’
‘Mr Darling, I thought you told me your son was studying law.’
‘He was, Lady Widdicombe,’ Mr Darling acknowledged reluctantly. ‘But upon arriving home, he informed us that he had given up his studies to become…a portraitist.’
‘Really? That is not the usual occupation for a gentleman’s son.’
‘No, my lady,’ Mr Darling agreed with a decided lack of enthusiasm. ‘It is not.’
‘But he is very good at it,’ Aunt Dorothy piped up, clearly not wanting anyone to think less of her nephew’s abilities. ‘He has already received a number of commissions from members of society and apparently he has several more lined up. And he would not be so gainfully employed if he was not—good heavens, what is all that noise?’
The commotion was coming from the direction of the hall. Emma turned, as everyone else did, to see what the cause might be.
‘Oh, dear Lord!’ Lady Widdicombe whispered. ‘He’s here?’ She glanced at Alex with something akin to panic in her eyes. ‘I had no idea he was coming.’
‘Perhaps he thought you would try to discourage him,’ Alex said softly. ‘I wonder if the doctor knows.’
‘Chances are good he does not. Pray excuse me,’ Lady Widdicombe said with an apologetic glance at her guests before heading quickly towards the door.
Alex glanced at his brother. ‘I think we had best go too.’
‘Peter, what’s wrong?’ Linette asked quickly.
‘Nothing.’ Peter raised her hands to his lips and fervently kissed them. ‘I shall return as quickly as I can.’ Then, he turned and followed his mother and brother out of the room.
‘How strange,’ Aunt Dorothy said. ‘I wonder what that was all about?’
Lady Glynnis was still gazing in the direction of the door; it looked to Emma as though she was trying not to smile. ‘I cannot be sure, but judging from the look of surprise on Lady Widdicombe’s face, I would say that the unexpected has happened and that, contrary to opinion, the Earl of Widdicombe has most definitely arrived.’
* * *
Alex was two steps behind his mother as they walked quickly into the hall. Just in time to see his brother’s butler and valet helping his father get up off the floor.
‘Richard!’ his wife cried. ‘Is it your heart?’
‘Don’t be silly, woman, it’s these damned slippery floors,’ the earl grumbled. ‘I simply lost my footing and fell.’
‘Perhaps you should lie down for a moment, Father,’ Alex suggested.
‘I didn’t come here to lie down.’ The earl rose to his full height, shaking off the butler and valet. ‘I came to see what kind of a mess my son is making of his life!’
Alex felt Peter stiffen at his side. ‘Then I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time, sir. I am very happy with my life. In fact, I am having a grand ball tonight to celebrate it.’
Aware that his mother was about to say something, Alex said, ‘Why don’t we retire to the drawing room? I don’t think our guests need witness any of this.’
Recognizing the wisdom in the suggestion, the four of them repaired to the nearest saloon. Alex shut the door and then turned to face his parents, aware that his father had already poured himself a glass of whisky and that his mother was looking none too pleased about it.
‘Is that a good idea, Richard?’ she said.
‘Harrow wouldn’t think so, but since he’s not here I don’t give a damn.’ The earl raised the glass and tipped back the contents. ‘Damn fine whisky, that.’ When he’d emptied the glass, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. ‘Damn fine. Now, about this engagement—’
‘I won’t hear anything said against Linette,’ Peter said, quietly defiant. ‘I love her. And I am going to marry her!’
‘Not without my permission.’
‘I don’t need your permission. I am old enough to make my own decisions.’
‘So you would defy me in this!’
‘If you pushed me to it, yes,’ Peter said. ‘It is not what I would like to do, Father, but I will if you force my hand.’
‘Force your hand? Of all the—!’
‘Father, if I may,’ Alex interrupted. ‘I understand your taking exception to Linette Darling based on what little you know of her, but she is here tonight and anxious to meet you. Why not spend some time with her? I venture to say you will be surprised.’
His father’s eyes narrowed. ‘What’s this? Has the chit charmed you as well?’
‘I like her, yes,’ Alex said simply. ‘But, more importantly,
Peter has already said he intends to marry her with or without your permission, and if the latter happens, the rift between you will never be healed. All I’m saying is that surely it is worth a few minutes of your time to speak to Linette and find out what kind of person she is.’
‘And if I spend a few minutes with her and don’t like what I see, what then?’ The earl turned his gaze on his youngest son. ‘Would you respect my wishes and walk away?’
Peter swallowed hard. ‘No, sir, I would not. I have given my promise to Linette. I will not go back on my word. Not even for you.’
Alex felt the atmosphere in the room grow explosive. He watched his father’s mouth begin to work and saw him stiffen as he turned away. ‘Then it would seem we have nothing more to say to one another.’
‘But you will meet her?’ Peter said.
‘No, sir, I will not. Nor will I acknowledge her family.’
‘Richard!’
‘Don’t bother, my dear.’ The earl’s voice was coldly pre-emptive. ‘I am still the head of this family and I say how matters are to go on. For your sake, I will not malign her, but neither will I speak of her in the terms you might wish me to.’
‘You can’t do that, Father,’ Alex said quietly.
‘Can’t I? I’m not the one who’s chosen to turn his back on the morals by which we live,’ the earl snapped. ‘The morals that have guided this family for generations. Your brother knows what kind of woman I expected him to marry. The kind of life I expected him to lead.’
‘There’s nothing to say he can’t still lead that life,’ Alex said, catching a glimpse of the despair on his brother’s face. ‘Miss Linette Darling is a lovely young woman. The least you can do is take a moment to meet her.’
Improper Miss Darling Page 13
