"Who is that blade she's dancing with?" Nigel asked, craning his neck toward the dance floor. Emily was being partnered by a handsome young man dressed in a dashing, bottle-green domino. He was about Emily's age, and was casting the most ridiculous sheep eyes at her hooded figure, which Nigel found incredibly annoying.
Harriet grinned at him. "I believe that is Lord Richardson. He's quite eligible, and, if I'm not mistaken, spent a good part of the masquerade bringing refreshments to your Lady Susan."
"She is not my Lady Susan, and never will be if I have any say in the matter. Must he practically maul Emily while he's dancing with her?" Nigel asked, a frown now etched on his face.
"Zounds, Nigel, they're just dancing. Why don't you try to enjoy yourself," Henry suggested, glancing over at Harriet.
Nigel glared at Henry, patiently waiting for the dance to end.
Before Emily could even move off the dance floor, Nigel was at her side, his hand possessively on her arm. "Is your next dance spoken for, Emily?" he asked in his most charming voice, moving her toward Henry and Harriet.
Emily looked up at him from beneath her monk's hood. "I don't believe so, Nigel," she answered shyly.
Before Nigel could utter another word, the notes of a waltz wafted out to the pair, and Nigel whisked her back out onto the floor.
The music floated around them, and Nigel no longer cared that he was holding an unfashionably tall bluestocking dressed as a medieval monk much too close for propriety. All he could think about was her slim body molded closely to his, and the warmth he felt when she was near.
The pair waltzed in silence, and when the dance ended, Blackmore, from the edge of the dance floor, proclaimed, "It is one minute past midnight in the year of Our Lord eighteen hundred and eighteen!"
"He's going to offer for her," Henry commented, sipping his wassail.
Harriet glanced over at the pair. Nigel was leading Emily out of the ballroom, and from the look of it, toward the library. "Did he say something to you?" she asked curiously, her blue eyes wide with amazement.
Henry adjusted the belt on his costume. "No. A man can tell these things. I'll wager you a guinea that he offers for her tonight."
A smile appeared on Harriet's rosy features. "Every time you wager with me, you lose, Henry."
"Not this time. Nigel is going to offer for our dear friend Emily. I won't wager on her answer, though."
"She'll accept him, of course. Emily is completely besotted with Nigel," Harriet explained, glancing around the room. Susan was still in a deep coze with Aubrey, so she couldn't make any mischief and interrupt the pair.
Henry shook his head. "I wouldn't be so certain. She still doesn't know about the Manning Mermaid, or the fact that Nigel is Roger Manning's older brother," he pointed out.
"Henry, you've heard Nigel in Parliament. He can be brilliantly eloquent when he needs to be, so I don't doubt that he'll be able to explain the situation to Emily logically."
Henry shook his head doubtfully. "I don't know if I can agree, dearest," he said cynically.
The library was a dark, cavernous room lit only by a dwindling fire in the fireplace. Nigel silently led Emily over to the hearth and gently took off his mask, then reached under her hood to dispose of hers.
"I was at Waterloo," he began in a soft voice, taking her two hands in his, "and I don't believe I was nearly as frightened as I am at this very moment."
Emily frowned, confusion written on her delicate features. "You were at Waterloo? Didn't your family object?" she said in a serious voice, her skin luminous in the firelight.
Nigel smiled gently. "Oh yes, my father all but disowned me, but when I actually came back alive, we managed to come to an understanding. My father, the marquess, can be a bit unreasonable at times, but he is good-hearted. You'll see when you meet him."
Her eyes were large as they met his golden-green gaze. One didn't have to be a slow-top to realize that Emily had absolutely no idea what Nigel was talking about.
As she frowned up at him, Nigel couldn't help but smile at her. "I'm sorry, Emily; I am rambling, aren't I? I most certainly didn't bring you here to discuss my father," he said, trying to figure out a way to actually ask her to marry him. He had never proposed marriage to anyone in his life, and it was a bit daunting.
Emily continued studying him, and quietly said, "What would you like to discuss, Nigel?"
Nigel's right hand left hers, and he brought it slowly to her temple and lightly caressed her long, auburn hair. "I brought you in here to offer for you," he said simply, willing himself not to kiss her. Though that was what he wanted to do more than anything else.
"Offer for me?" she asked in confusion, stepping back from him.
"Yes. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Emily?" he asked as her jaw dropped.
"Nigel, Lord Stratford," she stuttered, "I'm sorry, don't you know I'm not eligible? I'm four-and-twenty years old and my family is connected to trade. I'm not a suitable wife for a peer."
Nigel took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, bringing her warm, lithe body next to his. "Yes, well, I play piano, dislike Society, and love you more than I ever thought possible. We all have our faults," he said passionately, drawing her even closer to him.
They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they didn't hear the footsteps coming down the hall. So when the library door burst open and Lord Blackmore and another gentleman walked in, the two broke apart like a pair of guilty school children.
"Nigel, Miss Winterhaven, sorry to interrupt. Gilford wanted to examine one of my illustrated manuscripts," Black-more said casually, ignoring the fact that he had all but caught Nigel and Emily in an embrace.
"Of course," Nigel replied casually, as Blackmore and Gil-ford walked through the fairly dark room to a desk in the corner.
"Here it is," Blackmore announced, thrusting a large, ancient manuscript at Gilford, a young, cleric-looking man dressed in a brown domino.
"Thank you so much for letting me see it, Lord Black-more," Gilford stuttered as the pair joined Emily and Nigel near the fire.
As Gilford began to examine the manuscript, Blackmore glanced over at Emily, as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes were fixed on the mermaid dangling around her neck.
"That's a rather unusual piece of jewelry," he commented, staring intently at the mermaid.
"Yes, it was a gift from my grandfather—he bought it in London," Emily explained, a blush staining her cheeks.
Blackmore continued to stare at the pendant, and finally exclaimed, "Why, it's the Manning Mermaid! Nigel, how did Miss Winterhaven come into possession of one of your family jewels?" he asked, turning to Nigel.
Nigel paled somewhat. He had entirely forgotten about the pendant, the curse, Roger and the real reason he had joined Harriet's house party. He began to get a definite sinking feeling in his stomach.
"Let me guess. Roger, that scrapegrace of a brother of yours off and sold it to pay for a gambling debt," Blackmore suggested, completely unaware of Nigel's mortification.
Before Nigel could reply, Emily, who was now almost completely white, asked in a deadly calm voice, "Excuse me, Lord Blackmore, but am I to understand that Lord Stratford is related to Roger Manning?"
"Related?" Blackmore chuckled, in the best of humor. "Roger is Nigel's younger brother. And, if I'm not mistaken, there's something about that pendant that your father told me…" he began, then snapped his fingers. "I remember! The Manning Mermaid has some sort of curse attached to it, doesn't it? Your father told me some sort of cock-and-bull story about a curse of ill luck on the family if the pendant is ever sold," Blackmore concluded, smiling at Nigel.
Nigel wasn't smiling. Nigel was more pale than Emily. "Father tends to believe that sort of gammon," Nigel said weakly, trying to catch Emily's eye. She wouldn't look at him and instead focused her gaze on Lord Blackmore.
"Miss Winterhaven, watch yourself or Nigel will try to seduce you into selling the mermaid back to
him," Blackmore warned with a chuckle, then turned to the young cleric. "Gilford, I'm not going to let you spend New Year's Eve closeted in my library," he said, taking the book from Gilford. "Let's return to the party and I'll introduce you to Miss Hazelworth," he said, winking broadly at Nigel.
"Miss Hazelworth?" Gilford asked, brightening visibly as he followed Blackmore out of the library.
The silence was deafening in the room once Nigel and Emily were alone. Emily stood staring into the fire and Nigel was at a complete loss as to what to say.
So he moved behind her, put his hands lightly on her shoulders, and quietly said, "You never did answer my question."
Emily turned around slowly, her eyes ablaze. "How could you?" she cried, a single tear running down her cheek.
Thirteen
"I can explain," Nigel said, taking a step toward her.
Emily stepped back, and began to finger the mermaid pendant that was winking at her in the firelight. "I'm sure you can, Lord Stratford, just as your brother Roger told me he could explain. Is this some sort of prank you're involved in? Is that it?" she asked, not meeting his eyes.
"Not at all," he said in a low voice, his pallor almost as ghostly as hers.
"I thought not. This is all about the mermaid, isn't it? That's why you asked me about selling it a fortnight or so ago. It must have pained you greatly when it was returned to me after you stole it," she said, finally looking up into his golden eyes.
"Emily, I didn't steal the mermaid," he said in a choked, desperate voice.
"Of course not. And you never realized that I was the inconsequential female that your brother proceeded to embroil in a scandal several Seasons ago. So, to get back your blasted mermaid, you simply forgot to mention that fact and decided it would be much easier to feign affection for me. That way I would probably give you the pendant back and you wouldn't have to let loose with any of your precious family blunt to get rid of the supposed curse," she explained in a deadly calm voice.
Nigel stared at her, obviously at a complete loss. He noticed how her pale hand had tightened around the mermaid.
"It wasn't like that at all, Emily," he said in a soft voice, staring at the slender figure near the fire.
Emily could feel her heart breaking. It was as if she were going through the entire Roger Manning episode all over again, except that this time it was worse than she ever imagined. Because she did love Nigel. And she had almost agreed to marry him. "Yes, well, your charming brother said the same thing to me," she murmured, staring into the fire, her hand still wrapped around the pendant.
"Emily, I don't care about the mermaid. I want to marry you," he said, his voice husky with passion.
The fire crackled, and Emily stared into the burning embers for a long, long time. Finally, she slowly took the mermaid pendant from around her neck and thrust it at him. "Take it. I don't want it near me," she announced dramatically.
Nigel reluctantly took the mermaid from her outstretched hand and pleaded, "Emily, you have to let me explain."
Emily looked up at him, another tear glistening on her cheek. "I don't require any explanations, Lord Stratford. Lady Markston was right. Members of the nobility don't mix with people of my ilk," she said bitterly, fighting the urge to weep uncontrollably.
"You're wrong, my love. Please let me explain," he beseeched, his voice level and soothing.
"You have what you wanted. Just leave me alone," she said icily, gliding regally toward the door.
Nigel followed at her heels, loosening the collar on his shirt. "Emily, stop being a widgeon. I don't want the damned mermaid, I want you!" he announced, thrusting the mermaid back at her.
As her world crashed around her, Emily stared at him and softly whispered, "I never want to see you again," and quickly rushed out of the library.
Her world had collapsed once again.
"Emily, what's wrong?" Harriet asked, concern written on her pretty face.
"I want to go home. Now. I've had an… altercation with Lord Stratford, and I just want to leave here," she almost sobbed behind her mask.
Harriet put her arm around her friend and led her toward the door. "Of course, dear. Do you want to tell me about it?" Harriet was nothing if not calm in the face of trouble.
As they reached the door and waited for their carriage to be brought, the tears silently ran down Emily's cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me he was Roger Manning's older brother?"
"I didn't want to upset you with talk about that horrible time. And Nigel is nothing like Roger," she added, craning her neck toward the ballroom, apparently looking for Henry.
"Yes, he is, Harriet. He asked me to marry him just so he could have the mermaid back in his family. Grandpapa must have unknowingly bought it from him when he was in London," Emily said between sobs.
"I'm sure there's been some sort of mistake, Emily. Nigel would never offer for you just to get the mermaid back," Harriet said calmly, as the pair walked out the door, toward the carriage. Henry was right, she thought distractedly. Nigel did offer for Emily. And she had obviously refused.
As Emily was helped into her seat, Harriet left word with the footman that Henry was to be alerted that she was leaving early with Miss Winterhaven, and that he should return home immediately.
The drive back was none too pleasant for Emily or Harriet. Emily was convinced that Nigel was the biggest blackguard who had ever lived, and had no honor whatsoever left in his bones.
Harriet tried to appeal to Emily's sense of reason, but to no avail. Emily was still weeping an ocean of tears, and was once again going through a bitter betrayal at the hands of one of the Manning family.
In the end, there was only one solution. Emily was dutifully put to bed and given a small dose of laudanum, so she could get some sleep.
Harriet sat alone, waiting in the parlor. Emily's story was somewhat fragmented, but there were several facts that she was sure of: Emily knew that Nigel was Roger's brother; Nigel had proposed marriage to Emily; Emily knew that the mermaid was cursed; and Emily knew Nigel wanted the mermaid back.
The fire was blazing as Harriet waited for Nigel to appear and to give her some sort of explanation. She had warned him about hurting Emily, and he had assured her that his intentions were honorable. Yet Emily lay in a drugged sleep, her heart broken, while Nigel spent the evening at Blackmore's rout with his family heirloom in his pocket.
Yes, Nigel does have some explaining to do, Harriet thought, sipping a glass of Madeira.
Nigel stepped out of the library and walked down the long, dark hallway toward the main ballroom, in search of Emily. Conviction was written on his stern countenance; any of his fellow soldiers would have recognized the look of determination in his eyes. At that single moment in time, Nigel Manning was a determined man with a goal: to win back the woman he loved.
The ballroom, filled with dancing couples, was also crowded with drunken merrymakers. Since it was past midnight, most of the guests had taken off their masks, so it was a trifle easier for him to search the room for Emily.
How hard can it be to find a female dressed as a monk? he wondered, catching sight of Henry and Lord Blackmore across the room. They hovered around the refreshment table, having what appeared to be a serious discussion.
"Nigel, do you have a moment?" a voice at his side asked, and Nigel turned, only to find himself being addressed by Aubrey.
"Not precisely. I'm looking for Emily—Miss Winterhaven," he explained hastily, still scanning the room and rather ignoring Aubrey.
"Left a bit ago, with Harriet. She appeared to be in a tizzy about something or another," Aubrey offered, sipping his wassail.
Nigel focused his attention on Aubrey. "She left? Do you think she's all right?" he asked with a frown.
Aubrey shrugged. "I have no idea. But I do have another rather urgent matter to discuss with you."
Nigel was completely exasperated. He didn't want to stand in the middle of Blackmore's rout and make polite conversation with Aubrey. He wanted
to leave immediately and force Emily to hear his explanation. Finally he muttered, "I really have other affairs to attend to, Aubrey."
Aubrey stared out at the couples dancing, and frowned at the pasty-faced young buck who was leading out Susan. "As you wish. Let me be the first to offer you congratulations, though," he said in a sardonic voice, a slight smile on his face.
The frown on Nigel's brow deepened. "Congratulations?"
"Why, yes. If what my valet learned was true, you will be an engaged man tomorrow morning," Aubrey said simply, his pudgy fingers nervously running up and down his crystal goblet.
Nigel was now truly confused. There was no way that Aubrey, or his valet, could have known that he had offered for Emily. Yet Aubrey was offering felicitations, and everyone knew he was paying court to Emily. Finally he said, "What exactly did your valet hear?"
A relaxed smile appeared on Aubrey's face, replacing his carefully practiced look of sheer boredom. "Tomorrow morning, you will wake up with a member of the delicate sex in your bed. Being a gentleman, you will obviously be obligated to offer for her," he explained calmly.
"And this female isn't Miss Winterhaven?" Nigel asked, the reality of the situation suddenly dawning on him.
"Miss Winterhaven is a paragon, from what I've been able to observe, so the answer is, of course, no."
Nigel shrugged his broad, muscular shoulders. He didn't wish to deal with Susan, not after the Cheltingham tragedy with Emily. "Then I simply won't spend the evening in my suite. I'll have Harriet's staff put me in another bedroom," he replied, trying to catch Henry's attention from across the room.
"That is one way of dealing with it. I have another, more permanent solution in mind, though," Aubrey said, a bit too casually.
"Yes?"
"I propose that we switch rooms tonight, without the knowledge of the rest of the household."
Henry began to walk toward the pair, and Nigel was only half-listening to Aubrey, not really grasping the implications of what he was saying. All Nigel could think about was the look of betrayal that haunted Emily's eyes when she told him she never wanted to see him again. "Yes, that's fine. When we return to the house I'll have my valet see to it," Nigel replied distractedly, walking toward Henry. He had more important matters to attend to before the evening's end.
Emily's Christmas Wish Page 17
