The Hopeless Hoyden

by Bennett, Margaret

  “But where are the others?" Emily asked, craning her neck to see who was tromping down the hall.

  “Oh, almost forgot. That'll be Freddy and Ellison," Tom said, jerking his thumb toward the corridor. "Lindemann rode for Town. Said he'd be back tomorrow. Told me to tell you to stay on that couch and not to worry, Em. Said he had everything in hand."

  Emily began to think the morrow would never come, though it helped that she had company for dinner. Tom convinced Lady Spivey to have a table set up in the library so they could share their repast of braised venison, glazed ham and a brace of roasted grouse served with new potatoes and other vegetable side dishes with Emily.

  The talk was lively, centered around the newly engaged couple.

  “Freddy refuses to let me go to Brighton, insisting that a letter to Lady Raines will do just as well," a glowing Jane reported.

  “Treated you shabbily, they did," Freddy threw in.

  “He is gong to take me to his mother."

  “Mater will like you," beamed Freddy before flushing under Tom and Ellison's combined stares. “Jolly good chit, Jane is."

  “No need to tell us that," Ellison said. “Just surprised, that's all. Thought you weren't in the petty coat line."

  “Wasn't" Freddy said. “Leastwise, not 'til I met Jane."

  Emily, whose curiosity was still not satisfied, asked the gentlemen a few probing questions and, before the second course, had them recounting the day's events. Prudence, sitting next to Tom, appeared fascinated, but Lady Spivey saw fit to squash the topic.

  “Such talk is an unseemly topic for the supper table," the old lady declared. “Guns and knaves are hardly salubrious for one's digestion."

  But once the covers were removed and the Port wine bottle set out--for the gentlemen were comfortably ensconced and reluctant to adjourn to another room--they revived their tales which soon took on the heraldic overtones of an epic. While well entertained, Emily still remained ignorant of why Gabriel trekked to London as it appeared no one knew.

  Other than Gabriel's absence, the only mishap to mar the evening came when Emily retired. All three gentlemen wished to play the gallant, resulting in a rather heated argument. Emily, however, perceived her health might suffer if one of the intoxicated bucks were entrusted to carry her up the stairs. In the end, while Tom, Freddy and Ellison became engrossed in a rubber of whist to determine who the lucky male would be, Emily quietly slipped out of the library and climbed the stairs with the aid of Prudence and Jane.

  The next day, Emily again made her way downstairs unassisted and bullied the servants into allowing her to partake of her breakfast in the dining room. While it was the usual practice for Aunt Esmeralda and Prudence to dally in their rooms until mid morning, Emily was still surprised to find the dining room empty. Then, recalling the imbibing that took place the prior evening, she could well imagine why the gentlemen were slow to rise.

  Spending the morning on the couch in the library, Emily watched as heavy gray clouds dulled the sun with a promise of rain that indeed commenced after lunch. Left alone, she fretted over the inclement weather delaying Gabriel's arrival as he'd be forced to put up somewhere on the road. Thus, when she heard the crunch of gravel on the drive as a vehicle neared the house, she half expected to see one of the neighbors as she gingerly made her way to peer out the mullioned window.

  At the sight of Gabriel's mud splattered curricle, her heart lurched. Forgetting his order to stay put on the sofa, Emily made it to the library door, eagerly anticipating his entrance. Seconds later, she was rewarded when Pickering opened the front, heavy oak door and admitted the Viscount, swathed in a greatcoat that made his large shoulders appear enormous.

  “Thank you, Pickering," Gabriel said, quickly divesting himself of the soaked garment. He had started out from London early that morning, and the ride back to the Lindemann Park had seemed impossibly long and wet. But his sojourn to the city had been fruitful, he thought with a satisfied smile as his hand checked his breast pocket for the tenth time that day.

  “Miss Pendleton, is she in the library?" he asked Pickering.

  “Indeed, my lord, though it has been a bit of a struggle to keep her there." But that worthy's comment was said to his lordship's back as Gabriel strode toward the library where Emily stood in the doorway, making his arduous journey worth all the trouble.

  “Why aren't you on the sofa?" Gabriel demanded, taking her by the arm and ushering her into the room. Glancing over his shoulder and spotting the butler's impassive gaze on them, Gabriel deliberately closed the door. Once he saw that Emily was comfortable, he sat next to her on the sofa and availed himself of her hand. Softly, he stroked her palm with his thumb and stared deep into her violet eyes, watching, waiting, for her to react to his blatant desire for her. He smiled to himself as warm color flooded her cheeks. What a passionate creature his wood sprite was.

  “Pickering reports you've been a difficult patient, Emily."

  “Oh, pooh, he exaggerates," Emily said, tugging on her hand.

  “Then I take it you followed my directions to the letter?"

  “For the most part, my lord." Her tell-tale blush deepened.

  “But you are feeling better?"

  “Oh, yes, much better."

  “Excellent. It would be most unfair of me to take advantage of you in a weakened state." When Emily gave him a quizzical look, he possessed himself of her other hand and used his thumb to play with that palm, then whispered the fervent plea, “Marry me, Emily."

  He saw from her startled expression that he'd thrown her off stride as she fought to free her hands from his.

  “No, please, Gab. I cannot." She jerked on her hands from his, jumping off the sofa cushions.

  “I don't know what will happen to me, Emily, if you deny me your laughter, your smile, your faith in me," said Gabriel, rising while she took several steps to put distance between them. Frustrated by her withdrawal, he ran a hand distractedly through his hair.

  “But it is like Tom said. Your viscountess should have countenance."

  “What nonsense is Tom spouting?" Gabriel demanded. But now that he understood her reluctance, a spark of hope burned within his breast. “Emily, what Tom deems as countenance toted by most London belles is nothing more than a social facade that covers their selfish, mean spiritedness. I'd be miserable without the challenge of teaching you how to shoot, or having you show me how to cast a fishing line, or sharing the joy of spinning a tall tale.” He chuckled softly as these memories and others came to mind.

  “This is not a laughing matter, Gab." Tears of frustration and pain glistened in her eyes.

  “No, it's not." He sobered immediately and reached for her. “Em, I've endured all the countenance I care to for a lifetime. I want to be happy. I want to smile and laugh. I want to live the kind of life I saw men die for. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

  “But, Gab--"

  “No buts. Without you, my life is meaningless." His eyes held hers, pleading for her understanding.

  “Do you really love me?"

  “More than life itself."

  “Oh, Gab," Emily sobbed, rushing to throw her arms about him.

  He'd been praying for this sort of capitulation and had braced himself, taking a half step back with his arms outspread to catch her. Only he miscalculated, and the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch. Before he could readjust his stance, his leg buckled, and together they tumbled over the sofa, tipping it over with the force of their combined weight.

  Highly conscious of her injury, Gabriel, trying to keep Emily on top of him, took the brunt of the fall. “Emily, my love, are you all right?" When he heard her gurgling laughter muffled by the folds of his cravat, Gabriel used one hand to raise her chin and proceeded to kiss her senseless. Several passionate seconds passed before Gabriel realized they were not alone.

  Tom had rushed into the room, with Lady Spivey right behind him, demanding, “What was that crash?"

  “Good he
avens!" Aunt Esmeralda's voice sounded all aflutter. “Look at the settee?"

  With Emily wiggling frantically to right her skirts while lying on top of him, Gabriel was torn between a rising desire to ravish his beloved or strangle the intruders. Logic called for a compromise.

  “Be still, Em," he whispered in her ear. “I'll handle this."

  Gently lifting her aside, he rose up enough to poke his head above the top of the upturned couch. Fixing a silly grin in place, he asked, “Is something amiss?"

  “I'll say!" Tom started for the couch with a purposeful stride. “What's going on here?"

  “Nothing, nothing at all." Gabriel held up a hand to halt the young man's advance. “I was napping and . . . ."

  But Tom looked worried. “I thought Emily was in here. Is she back there?"

  “Oh, pooh," Emily's strangled cry rose mournfully from where she crouched next to Gabriel.

  “Emily?" The young man's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets.

  “Afraid so, Tom." Gabriel looked down on his beloved with a loving smile.

  “Now look here, you libertine, the knot’s not tied yet--" Tom blustered.

  But Gabriel cut him off. “I've been busy trying to convince your sister to marry me."

  “C-convince her? Good heavens!" Lady Spivey clutched her heaving bosom. “The gel's compromised herself half a dozen times, and you still have to convince her?"

  Gabriel smiled wickedly. “Things were going splendidly--convincing her of all the advantages of being my viscountess, that is--until you two barged in."

  “This ain't right." Tom's frown deepened as Emily's honey colored curls slowly topped the edge of the overturned couch. “I mean, it's no way to court a girl."

  Gabriel placed a hand on top of Emily's head and pressed down, forcing her to retreat from the field of battle. “I've told her about my other estates and tried to bribe her with a new hunter--"

  “A new hunter!" Emily's voice broke in. “Really, Gab?"

  “Even told her I'd put you up for membership in the Four-in-Hand Club."

  “No kidding?" Tom's frowning countenance instantly changed to one of awe.

  “Of course, Tom, if you prefer, I could discuss the particulars of the marriage contract with you. Only, your sister hasn't agreed to marry me--yet."

  Lady Spivey groaned before giving her succinct opinion. “The gel's daft!"

  “A little more time, however, and I should be able to bring her around." Gabriel speared Tom with a knowing look.

  “Oh? Oh, by Jupiter! I think you're right." Tom turned to his aunt. “Emily can be squeamish at times, you know, Aunt Esmeralda."

  “Balderdash!" Lady Spivey retorted. “The gel doesn't possess a squeamish bone in her body."

  “Still, Lindemann ought to have a chance to press his suit," Tom said with a hold on the old lady's arm, trying to drag her toward the door.

  “Unseemly, I don’t mind telling you, Lindemann. That is what this whole house party has been," the old lady protested indignantly.

  Gabriel reached inside the left pocket of his jacket, withdrew white parchment, and held it over his head. “I've a special license, Lady Spivey.”

  “A special license!" Emily's head popped up, a question in her violet eyes. “Was that why you went to London?"

  “Special license!" echoed Aunt Esmeralda. “You have it in your hand?"

  “Yes," answered Gabriel with another foolish grin. He waited until Tom hauled Lady Spivey into the hall and closed the door before he waved the sheet of parchment at Emily. “And I've every intention of using this immediately, Em."

  With that, Gabriel drew his beloved wood sprite to him in a tender embrace, which lasted but a moment before they sank blissfully onto the carpet behind the sofa.

  Other novels available by Margaret Bennett:

  Deadly Lessons

  When one of Lindsey Mitchell’s high school students hides a gun used in the execution of a gang member in her home, she becomes a target of the car theft gang. Police detective Jack Owens, who is assigned to investigate the murder of one of Lindsey’s students, realizes the gang is after something they think she has. He tries to prevent Lindsey from becoming the gang’s next victim.

  Jackson’s Crew

  Jackson Thomas, a.k.a. Jacks, lives in the projects and knows the score. So he convinces his friends to form a crew that helps members to stay out of trouble. When Jacks’s new neighbor Gelo appears, the crew becomes involved keeping Peanut, the smallest of the crew members, from a bullying gangbanger, saving an old lady from a mugging, recovering stolen goods, and finally banishing a project drug dealer. Unusual elements permeate the action whenever Gelo is around, and Jacks wonders if Gelo isn’t some sort of guardian angel.

  An Independent Lady

  At twenty five, Amelia hasn’t met anyone she can love but is perfectly happy with her single life. Her brother Edward is not and plans to introduce her to eligible bachelors. Among them is Lord Talverson, who finds Amelia’s marriage portion a healthy answer to his money problems.

  At a house party, the Earl of Wexley learns his old foe Talverson is manipulating the heiress to wed. Wexley, whose temper is more than a match for the fiery Amelia, sets out to help her, despite the fact that the very independent lady does not want his help.