“You can? Oh no, Papa asked me to put on my prettiest smile for everyone. He will be disappointed with me if I cannot do as he asked.”
Ethan chuckled. “Trust me, Miss Stanton, no one will know you are troubled. You cannot help but look your prettiest, no matter what you are thinking.”
A slight smile curled the corners of her mouth. She was pleasantly surprised by his concern. He really was a kind and considerate man. “Mr. Richardson, how nice of you to say.”
“It is my pleasure, Miss Stanton. You are my…”
“Miss Stanton, there you are!” Connor Preston said, striding over and interrupting their conversation.
Emily turned and, as much as she tried hard to control her emotions, her heart skipped a beat. Mr. Preston looked as handsome as ever, and he was giving her his most charming smile. And what a smile it was. She was secretly glad that her engagement had not been formally announced yet. She’d have at least one last dance with the man she loved.
“Mr. Preston, how lovely to see you,” she said.
“I believe this dance have been reserved for me, Miss Stanton. Are you ready?”
Emily turned back to Ethan and curtsied. “Mr. Richardson.”
Ethan bowed. “Miss Stanton.”
She took Mr. Preston’s proffered arm and headed out to the dance floor. The dance was announced, the music began, the women curtsied, and the men bowed. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him and when their hands met, the familiar thrill coursed through her body. Oh, how she would miss that feeling. She felt so alive in his arms, but their pairing was not to be.
Connor leaned in toward her. “You look as beautiful as ever.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Preston.”
“You will receive a letter tomorrow,” Connor said.
Before Emily could respond, they parted. When they met again, she tried to tell him about her impending engagement. “Mr. Preston, I must tell you...”
Connor smiled. “Shhh… let us enjoy our dance together.”
When the music ended, he escorted her off the floor and over to her mother. “Mrs. Stanton, a pleasure to see you this evening,” he said.
“Thank you, Mr. Preston. If you will excuse me please, I’d like a word with my daughter.”
“Of course.” Connor bowed and left the two women alone.
“Emily, I know I said we would stay an hour, but I want to leave now. I’m happy you had an opportunity to dance at least once.”
“I am, too, Mama. Whatever you think best.” She cast a glance over her shoulder and had one last glimpse of Mr. Preston before they headed out in the cool night air for the coach ride back to their London home.
Chapter 12
Colby Tisbury crept up the stairs and stopped at the top landing. He looked left toward his bedchamber. There was no one about and he said a silent prayer that none of the servants would come upstairs in the next ten minutes.
He took a deep breath and turned right toward his mother’s rooms. He walked with purpose toward the end of the long hallway. When he reached his mother’s door, he knocked lightly and waited to hear the shuffling of footsteps.
No one came.
He glanced down the hall before he grasped the door handle and slipped inside. His mother’s sitting room and bedchamber were elaborately decorated in hues of burgundy and gold. She had exquisite taste and the sitting room was inviting without being gaudy. He hadn’t been in her room since he was a child and had few reasons to be here and even less when his mother wasn’t here, but no matter. He was on a mission.
He needed one of her necklaces. It didn’t matter which one as long as it was expensive. He would use it as collateral at the gambling house until his luck turned. He’d been on a losing streak of late and had few coins left for this evening’s game. He couldn’t get any more ready cash without his father finding out and that was the last thing he wanted. It was bad enough to endure his stern lectures about his gambling, but if he ever really knew how much Colby had lost over the past months, there would be no end of listening to him go on and on about the evils of gambling.
But, first things first. Where did his mother keep her jewelry? He never paid attention to these details before. There had been no need. He’d always had plenty of ready cash until now.
His credit had been shut off at the wealthier gambling halls and had it not been for Connor Preston introducing him to the establishment in the seedier part of London, he would have had to wait until he got his next allowance from the bank. He didn’t want to wait. Gambling made him feel alive especially that anticipation of never knowing if you had the winning hand or not. That’s what he craved, that excitement, not attending balls and listening to silly woman prattle on and on. And this particular parlor took all manner of payment—coins, jewelry and even land deeds.
Colby glanced around the sitting room, but saw no box that would hold his mother’s ample collection of jewelry. He strode to her bedroom and began his search. He didn’t have to hunt long for there on her vanity stood a large box that he was sure contained her jewelry.
Finally! Now to get a necklace and get out before someone sees me.
“Mr. Tisbury, may I help you?”
The maid’s voice startled him and a shiver raced down his spine. He had not heard the door open or the maid enter. He needed to salvage the situation before the maid alerted his mother.
He plastered a smile on his handsome face and turned to greet her. “Oh, I was looking for my mother. I thought she was here resting before dinner.”
“No, sir. She’s not here.”
Colby took two steps toward the maid. It was too late. He would not get a necklace now. He’d have to cut his losses and leave. He’d missed his opportunity.
“Do you know where she is?” he asked.
The maid nodded. “Yes, sir. She’s in the parlor last I saw her.”
Colby walked past the maid, but glanced over his shoulder on his way out. “Thank you. I’ll go see if she’s still there.”
The maid curtsied. “Yes, sir. Very good, sir.”
Colby cursed his back luck under his breath. No wonder his mother liked her lady’s maid. The woman was as silent as a mouse. He put his hand in his pocket and fingered the coins. This would have to do for tonight.
He hoped that his luck would turn around at the tables tonight.
***
The next day, Emily sat in the sunroom trying to concentrate on her embroidery, but her mind was racing. She had slept poorly, tossing and turning and remembering the thrilling feeling of dancing with Mr. Preston. He had said he would send his letter today, but it was too late. She glanced down at her embroidery. The last few stitches were sloppy and she pulled them out. It was a mistake to try and concentrate on such fine work when she was so preoccupied. All she thought about was Mr. Preston.
Why did you wait so long? I cannot accept your proposal now. I have promised to marry another.
Mrs. Jannell walked into the sunroom. “Miss Emily, a letter has been delivered for you.”
Emily jumped up and took the letter from the housekeeper’s outstretched hand. She tore open the letter, and scanned it quickly. She felt the color drain out of her face and staggered backwards sinking heavily into the chair.
“Miss Emily, what is it? Are you ill?” Mrs. Jannell asked as she reached for her.
Emily shook her head. “No, I am fine. Thank you for bringing the letter.”
“Would you like some tea? You’re white as a ghost.”
“No, I’m fine. Really. That will be all.”
Mrs. Jannell hesitated, but then nodded and slipped out of the room.
Emily watched her leave and then reread the letter again. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. She’d been so sure that Mr. Preston would offer her a marriage proposal, but she was wrong, so very wrong. How could she have misjudged his interest? The letter she held in her hand was the announcement of his engagement to Miss Elizabeth Curry. She crumpled the letter in her fist, and r
an out of the room.
She burst into her bedchamber, closed the door and slumped down on the bed. She could hardly breathe; the hurt inside her was so great. She smoothed out the paper, and read the letter again. No matter how many times she read, it still contained the same words and her heart ached. Mr. Preston was marrying another. What a fool she’d been. The kiss he stole were just that, a stolen kiss. It meant nothing to him. Had he written the same beautiful love letters to Elizabeth? Had he whispered compliments in her ear? Nesmith was right. Men liked pretty girls. It didn’t mean they have serious intentions toward them. How could she have been so wrong?
A knock on the door snapped Emily out of her reverie. She quickly wiped the tears welling in her eyes. She folded the letter, and put it in her pocket. “Yes, come in.”
Nesmith entered. “Mrs. Jannell has shown Mr. Richardson into the parlor. Will you meet with him?”
Emily took a deep breath and pushed a loose curl out of her face. “Yes, of course. Tell him I shall be there momentarily.”
Nesmith scrutinized Emily. “Have you been crying, my dear?”
Emily shook her head. “No, something was in my eye. That’s all. I shall come down shortly.”
Nesmith nodded and left Emily alone.
Emily knew she hadn’t fooled the lady’s maid. Nesmith knew her moods inside and out, but her emotions were still so raw that she couldn’t talk about the letter she’d received. It was humiliating at the very least. She walked over to her vanity mirror and tidied up her hair before taking a deep breath and leaving her bedchamber.
“Time to meet my fate,” she said as she swept out the door.
***
Ethan paced back and forth in the Stanton parlor. He ran his hand through his hair, smoothing it down. When he had heard about Riley’s health crisis, he decided to wait a few days before he saw Emily. Now that Riley was on the mend, the timing was right. This was it, his moment of truth.
He had waited months for this day to come, slowly courting Emily throughout the Season. She had asked to see him so he imagined that she was ready to accept his proposal, but his insides roiled with trepidation. Would the girl of his dreams actually say yes to his proposal? In a scant few moments, he would know her answer. He hoped it was the one he was waiting for.
Emily breezed into the parlor. “Good day, Mr. Richardson,” she said with a curtsy and a pretty smile.
Ethan’s breath stopped. She was stunning. Could this bewitching girl really be his future wife? He tried not to stumble over his words. “Miss Stanton,” he said with a bow. “Thank you for seeing me today.”
“It is my pleasure, Mr. Richardson. Would you like some tea?”
Ethan didn’t think he could stomach any more delays and shook his head. “No, thank you.” He closed the distance between them and looked into her eyes. “I assume you know…um…”
Emily stood calmly, waiting for him to continue.
“What I mean to say is that…you know I have seen your father, do you not?”
“I do indeed.”
Ethan took that as a good sign. She had not run away from him. He took her small hand in his. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He watched her closely hoping for the answer he craved.
One heartbeat.
Two heartbeats.
Three heartbeats.
What was she waiting for? Ethan’s heart thudded in his chest.
Emily looked into his eyes. “Yes, Mr. Richardson. I will be your wife.”
Ethan let go of his pent up breath. He hadn’t realized that he was holding it until the moment she agreed to marry him. He pulled her into his arms for a loving embrace. “Thank you. You’ve made me a very happy man.”
Emily put her arms around him. It was not the glorious day she had been dreaming about, but there was no turning back now. She had promised to be his.
Her mother sailed into the room with a smile on her beautiful face. “How wonderful to see you both together.”
Emily pulled away from him. “Yes, Mama. I have accepted Mr. Richardson’s proposal of marriage.”
Catherine hugged her. “I’m so very happy, my dear. It will be a fine marriage.”
“I hope to make your daughter very happy, Mrs. Stanton.”
“I’m sure you will, Mr. Richardson. Would you care to stay a while, perhaps join us in some tea?”
“Thank you, but I must head off to take care of a few errands of my own.” He turned to Emily and lifted her hand to his lips. “I shall see you soon, Miss Stanton.” He gave the women a bow and left.
***
With Ethan gone and her mother off on an errand of her own, Emily went upstairs to her bedchamber to pen a letter to her friend.
Dearest Mia,
Today I accepted the marriage proposal from Mr. Richardson. Mama and Papa are, of course, so very happy, but my heart is shattered to pieces. It pains me to think that the love letters Mr. Connor sent me could be false. How can that be? They were all so beautiful, but today I received the announcement of his impending marriage to Elizabeth Curry. I fear I should have taken your counsel and not set my heart on him
It is of little consequence now. I shall be married in four weeks once the banns have been read. I do hope you will be able to attend. It would give me great comfort to have you there, but I do understand if you are not feeling up to it. You must think of your health first and foremost.
Always your loving friend,
Em
Three days later there was a knock on her bedchamber door and her mother’s voice floated in. “Emily, are you ready, dear?”
“Coming, Mama.”
“We will be late for the appointment with the modiste if you do not hurry.”
The bedroom door opened and Emily came out into the hallway. “I’m ready.”
“Good, let’s be on our way.”
Emily nodded and followed her mother down the stairs like a dutiful daughter. She tried to be excited about picking the design for her wedding dress, but her heart wasn’t in it. Even though she knew that Connor had done nothing but toy with her all Season, she could not shut off her feelings for him quite so quickly. Perhaps in time that would happen, but for now, her feelings were too raw.
She would let her mother handle the details with the modiste. Her mother had exquisite taste and would no doubt help create a beautiful wedding dress for her to wear.
“Shall we walk? It’s a beautiful day,” Catherine asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“Do you have any design in mind, dear?”
“No, Mama. I trust in your good taste and I’m sure it will be beautiful.”
Catherine took Emily’s hand in hers. “You will make the most beautiful bride the county has seen in a long while.”
***
The weeks flew by and before she knew it, Emily stood silently at the altar next to Ethan. The minister was reciting the words, but she couldn’t concentrate on them.
It was Ethan’s turn to recite his vows. He did so without hesitation.
“I, Ethan Charles Richardson, take thee Emily Elizabeth Stanton to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
She stole a glance at her parents. They looked so happy. Her father had regained most of his strength, and sat there beaming at her. She wished she felt the same happiness.
The minister continued. “Emily Elizabeth Stanton, wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?
The minister paused.
She turned back to the minister and responded. “I will.”
She reached for Ethan’s hand and repeated. “I, Emi
ly Elizabeth Stanton, take thee Ethan Charles Richardson to my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”
Ethan held her left hand. “With this Ring I thee wed, with my Body I thee worship, and with all my worldly Goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” He slipped the gold band onto her finger, and gave her a shy smile.
The couple knelt. The minister droned on with the ceremonial prayers. After the ceremony, the couple followed the minister into the vestry to sign their names in the parish registry. It would be the last time she signed the name “Stanton.” It was official. She was now a married woman.
Ethan offered his arm to his new bride. “Are you ready, Mrs. Richardson?”
Emily placed her hand on her husband’s arm. She flashed him a smile. “Yes, of course, Mr. Richardson.”
“I think it’s about time you called me Ethan,” he said.
“Of course…Ethan.”
They climbed into the coach waiting outside, and headed back to the Stanton home for the wedding breakfast.
Ethan held her hand. “You look stunningly beautiful today. I am honored that you are my wife.”
“Thank you,” Emily replied, and continued to stare out of the window.
Ethan tried to initiate more conversation. “I hope you will find my home to your liking. Your suite has been decorated in your favorite color of blue. If it is not pleasing to you, you may change it to whatever color you prefer.”
She turned to him. “How very kind of you. I’m sure it will be lovely. Thank you,” she said.
***
The wedding breakfast passed in a blur for Emily and before she knew it they were in the coach for the ride to the country estate. Her eyes widened as they rode up to the drive to Ethan’s manor home. She hardly believed that she was now the mistress of the grand ancestral home.
Age of Innocence Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Page 9
