The Counterfeit Betrothal

by April Kihlstrom

  “Don’t worry, sir. I shall look after him,” Hastings offered generously.

  “Indeed?” Barnett said, favoring his son’s friend with a jaundiced eye. “I’m not sure you aren’t even worse than he is. But what’s done is done. I only hope we do not all live to regret this.”

  Meanwhile Emmaline had her own reservations. But Mrs. Anna Colton, who had been enlisted to help Sir Osbert persuade her to go, was as stubborn as Emmaline. She was even there on the morning Emmaline was to leave for London to prevent any last-minute change of plans.

  “Now don’t worry about a thing, my dear,” she told Emmaline with a smile that belied the sternness of her voice. “I shall call upon your father every day to see that he is all right and I promise to send for you at once should he take a turn for the worse.”

  Emmaline, who had just been upstairs to bid her father good-bye, held her handkerchief tighter. With a forced smile she replied, “I know that you will take excellent care of him, Mrs. Colton. You have always been such a dear friend to all of us, and I know Papa will like having you about. Indeed, he told me so just now. It is just that I cannot shake the thought that it is my duty to be at Papa’s side.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. Colton said stoutly. “This trip to London is what Sir Osbert wishes for you, and you know Dr. Farley said we are not to upset your papa. And he would be upset if you refused to go.”

  Impulsively Emmaline hugged Mrs. Colton and turned to her maid, who was trying to gain her attention. “What is it, Mary?” she asked.

  The maid curtsied. “The carriage, miss. It’s ready and the gentlemen are just now arrived.”

  “Already? Very well. I shall be out in a moment.” Emmaline could not refrain from running lightly upstairs to say good-bye to her father one last time. He was waiting for her, propped up with pillows and with a far happier look in his eyes than she had seen for some time. “Papa—” she began.

  He cut her short, saying as he held out a hand to her, “Hush, child. Go to London and have fun. That is what I wish for you. And you are not to worry about me, do you hear? I shall have Mrs. Colton to order about and bully unmercifully just as I used to do with you, so you need have no fears on my account!”

  In spite of herself Emmaline laughed and retorted amiably, “No, indeed. It is Mrs. Colton I see I must fear for.” She paused to hug him then, and when she spoke again it was with a voice that was more than a little unsteady. “Oh, Papa, I shall miss you!”

  “As I shall miss you,” Sir Osbert replied gruffly. “But I have wanted for some time to see you go off and enjoy yourself, and I tell you I shall do better for knowing you are doing so. Who knows, you may even return to find me in better health than ever.”

  “I wish it might be so,” Emmaline said earnestly.

  Then, afraid their resolution would fail them, her father added, “Go on now. I heard a carriage drive round some time ago and your escorts will be growing impatient. Tell Jeremy I said he is to take good care of you!”

  “I shall. Good-bye, Papa.”

  A short time later it was a procession of carriages that pulled away from the home Emmaline had always known. She rode in a comfortable chaise-and-four with her maid while Hastings drove his phaeton and Jeremy his curricle. Emmaline didn’t quite know whether to take offense at the neglect or give in to her relief at the privacy. In the end, her good nature asserted itself and she gave herself over to the pleasure of watching the countryside.

  Mary, however, had other notions. She wished to talk about how handsome Emmaline’s betrothed was or how neatly he handled his curricle. As she did so, Emmaline’s own treacherous thoughts kept drifting back to how he had kissed her when she accepted his proposal and how her own hands had betrayed her, stealing around his neck. Nor could she forget how her skin seemed to burn whenever he took her hand and how her heart raced until her breath seemed to come in small gasps. No, better not to think of him at all or she might so far forget herself as to go back on her refusal to the marriage. And that way lay madness.

  But when they stopped for a neat little luncheon at a posting house along the way, Emmaline’s heart once again betrayed her as Jeremy handed her out of the carriage. She could only hope that he did not notice, that his eyes were instead fixed with admiration upon her new dress and bonnet made of rose silk that he had once told her was his favorite color. And she could only be grateful that she did not find herself entirely alone with him but that Hastings was there as well.

  Jeremy, with his usual thoroughness, had arranged a private parlor and the dishes were ready within minutes of their arrival. Edward held the chair for her as they sat down. “Comfortable journey so far, Miss Delwyn?” Hastings asked solicitously.

  Emmaline smiled at him warmly. “Oh, yes, Mr. Hastings. You and Jeremy appear to have thought of everything. And I still find it difficult to believe your mother has been so kind as to invite me to come and stay with her.”

  Hastings smiled in return. “M’mother loves company. And going out and about. The happiest I’ve ever seen her was when she was bringing out m’sister. And m’cousins. Three of ’em in turn.”

  “Mrs. Hastings must have the warmest heart in London,” Jeremy agreed. “I think you’ll be happy staying with her. And you need have no fear. She is wonderfully discreet, so that even if she guesses the truth of our betrothal she will tell no one.” At Emmaline’s look of distress, he added, “Don’t mind Hastings, here, he is my oldest friend and entirely discreet as well. I have told him everything.”

  Emmaline hesitated, then nodded decisively. “All right. I must trust your judgment as to that. But I confess myself still troubled. To what purpose, Jeremy, have you arranged for us to go to London? For I know this must be your doing.”

  “It will be far easier to convince our fathers we are happily betrothed from London than when we are right under their noses,” he answered promptly.

  “To be sure,” Hastings agreed, pouring her a glass of wine. “A few letters, now and again, detailing your contentment ought to do the trick nicely.”

  “Yes, but for how long?” Emmaline persisted. “Sooner or later they will press for a wedding, and what then?”

  “By then I, we, shall have put a number of plans into action,” Jeremy replied curtly. “My first step shall be to consult with my solicitor to see if my father can indeed force his conditions upon me.”

  “And if he can?” Emmaline asked hesitantly. “However irregular his behavior has been in not yet settling any property or income upon you, that may well be his legal right.”

  Jeremy’s face was grim. “I am all too well aware of that,” he told her. “Nevertheless I shall ask. Secondly, I shall lead a model existence for the next few months and perhaps by the time we must break the truth to my father, he will consider me reformed and withdraw his conditions.”

  “And if that fails?” Emmaline persisted.

  For the next few moments Jeremy paid a great deal of attention to his food. In the end, however, he said with a hesitancy that did not suit him, “While we are in London I shall take you about, introduce you to everyone, and generally show you how to behave. Then, after a while, if you cannot attract a desirable parti I shall ... shall eat my hat. Thus your future may be assured.”

  “How generous. And your own?” Emmaline dryly.

  “I had thought you might look about for someone suitable for me. Someone both I and my father will like in the event that I must marry after all.”

  “It may be a trifle difficult for Jeremy to go about courting anyone else while he is formally betrothed to you,” Hastings added helpfully. “Particularly as broken engagements are not much in favor just now, with Lady Charlotte’s behavior as an example.”

  “I see,” Emmaline repeated thoughtfully. “So when we break our engagement I may soothe my father with another suitor already to hand and you may satisfy your father with another bride he will approve of. How simple.”

  Jeremy did not miss the irony in her voice and he answered a tri
fle sharply, “Nothing of the sort, and I know it as well as you do. It will be the damnedest nuisance for both of us—being hampered about by this formal betrothal. But I, for one, have no other ideas unless you’ve once more changed your mind about marrying me?”

  “Have you changed yours?” she countered. Glaring eyes met, and in the end it was Hastings who broke off the duel by saying, “For the moment, I wish the pair of you would simply resign yourself to having a bit of fun before you look for anything else. Jeremy will need time to consult his solicitor, and in any event neither of your fathers is likely to suddenly appear in London to demand a wedding. At any rate, not without warning.” He paused, then added thoughtfully, “It would look strange, you know, if there were an open breach right away. Wouldn’t want any scandal to get back to ’em.”

  “Good God, no!” Jeremy agreed with feeling.

  “I would not have phrased it precisely that way,” Emmaline said calmly, “but my sentiments are the same.” Then she added demurely, “And no doubt it will take you some time to properly school me in whom to set my cap for, Jeremy, and what dressmaker to patronize.”

  “M’mother will take you to the dressmakers,” Edward said hastily. “Wouldn’t do for Jeremy to be seen taking you to such places. Not the thing at all. Besides, m’mother loves that sort of nonsense. Very hurt if you don’t let her do it.”

  “No, my part will simply be snaring potential husbands to present to you for your approval. As well as seeing that you acquire some town polish,” Jeremy added kindly.

  “Rubbish!” Emmaline said firmly. “However, I admit I shall be kept quite busy trying to perform the impossible task of finding a female who will meet with both your approval and your father’s. I am not even certain it is possible. Particularly as you have no doubt already met all of the eligible young ladies. This is not precisely the beginning of the Season, I know.”

  “I only ask you to try,” Jeremy told her frankly. With a warm smile Emmaline replied, “And so I shall. This will not be easy for either of us but together we may contrive something that will answer.”

  “Good,” Hastings said approvingly, his hands coming down flat upon the table with a loud sound. “I’m delighted that’s settled.”

  Jeremy eyed his friend for a moment, then said mockingly, “So am I. Now I advise you to attend to your luncheon instead of our affairs so that we may be on our way. I should like to arrive in London before nightfall.”

  “I am already prepared to leave,” Hastings said at once, rising. “Miss Delwyn is not, however, so I think I shall have a walk outside while I wait. No doubt the two of you have things you will wish to talk about anyway without me about. Miss Delwyn, you will excuse me?”

  “Yes, do go,” Jeremy agreed cordially. “I assure you I shall not mind.”

  Emmaline glared at her fiancé but politeness made her echo his words. “Pray do as you wish,” she said with a forced smile. “No doubt the fresh air will be welcome to you.”

  As soon as he was gone, Jeremy once more sat facing her across the table and the last of Emmaline’s appetite vanished. “Did you—did you wish to say something to me?” she asked him apprehensively.

  “That depends. Will you speak frankly with me?” Jeremy answered. “I warn you that I believe it is the only way we may come about.”

  “Then of course I shall speak frankly,” Emmaline replied equably.

  “Good. Will you tell me why you have never married,” he asked coolly, ignoring her gasp of shock. “Your father told me you have had offers.” Emmaline colored angrily and would have protested had his next words not forestalled her. With a kindness she did not expect he said, “I do not mean to distress you, but I cannot help you find another fiancé if I do not know why you are still unwed now. Come, don’t be afraid to tell me the truth.”

  That brought Emmaline’s head up with a snap. “I am not afraid,” she retorted frostily. “Very well, since you will have it, I turned down all my previous suitors because they were all dead bores. I could not see myself wed to men old enough to be my father or with no more conversation to them than news of the latest hunt.”

  Jeremy regarded her for a long moment with raised eyebrows, cool amusement evident upon his face. When he answered, his voice matched his face. “Ah, now I comprehend the reason you accepted my proposal! You thought I could scarcely be accused of offering boredom. Upon closer acquaintance, however, you no doubt realized there wasn’t anything the least bit interesting about me and that is why you chose to break off our betrothal. But, of course, you were too much the lady to wound me by saying so.”

  With another flush Emmaline rose from the table and turned her back upon him. “Don’t be absurd,” she said angrily.

  His voice came from behind her and his hands gripped her shoulders as he asked quietly, “No? Then why did you break our betrothal? I know you too well to entirely believe the reasons you have given me.”

  She did not at once answer and a gentle finger treacherously began to stroke at the back of her neck. Emmaline shivered and after a moment Jeremy turned her around to face him, his strong hands brooking no argument. As her face tilted up at his, an unspoken plea strong in her eyes, something stirred within him. Almost against his will his face came closer and his lips closed upon hers. He meant to be gentle, he meant to kiss her lightly, but the kiss became something more, searing through both of them. Had his arms not slid around her waist, Emmaline’s knees would have given way and she would have fallen. Her hands stole up around his neck and she could not help but respond to his demanding lips.

  It was Jeremy who abruptly pulled away and turned his back on Emmaline. For what seemed an eternity there was only the sound of their breath coming in broken gasps. Eventually he said, his voice mocking her cruelly, “So, my dear, I had mistaken you. You are not quite the frightened virgin I thought. If it is not fear of what awaits you in our marriage bed that has caused you to break our betrothal, then will you do me the courtesy to tell me what has?”

  Emmaline also turned away, not trusting herself to look at him. Her training cried out at how she had forgotten all propriety. With an effort Jeremy could not have guessed at, she forced herself to laugh. She would not let him see how much he meant to her. “I have told you, sir. I realized that I had mistaken my mind. Once I was naive enough to believe I felt a tendre for you and now I have outgrown it.”

  “Indeed?” His voice still mocked her. “And do you then make a habit of kissing men that way? I warn you it is a dangerous habit.”

  Unable to stop herself, Emmaline whirled to face him and cried out, “And do you, sir, make a habit of—of forcing your attentions upon well-bred, defenseless young women in inns?”

  A cold, harsh look came over Jeremy’s face and he bowed. “Forgive me, Miss Delwyn. I had not guessed my attentions were so distasteful to you. I shall take myself away from you at once, and you may follow as soon as you are ready. A word of advice, however. If you do not wish gentlemen to kiss you as I did, then you ought not to agree to be alone with them.” As Emmaline gasped in outrage he added contemptuously, “Nor should you put your arms about their necks and respond in kind. A slap across the face is generally considered a far more effective deterrent.”

  And then he was gone, the door to the parlor closing behind him with a distinct bang. Hastily Emmaline tried to control her agitation before anyone came to look for her. She had scarcely succeeded in doing so when Mary rapped at the door and then, poking in her head, said timidly, “The gentlemen said to tell you the carriages are ready and the hour is growing late.”

  “Thank you,” Emmaline said with a calm she did not feel. “I shall be right there.”

  7

  Mrs. Hastings was generally held to be an amiable woman except when it came to her children; she could be truly formidable when aroused and she allowed no interference in their affairs save her own. Indeed, one of the joys of launching her daughter and nieces into the ton had been the opportunity to mold their characters to her
satisfaction, though always with a certain kindness, of course.

  Mrs. Hastings was well liked, however, for her many kindnesses to shy hostesses or anyone who turned to her for advice. While long accustomed to moving in the first circles, she was never so high in the instep as to be above enjoying her company. And although she certainly expected people to listen politely to what she said, she did not demand that they always agree with her notions.

  When Edward Hastings asked his mother that she invite Miss Delwyn to London to stay with them, Mrs. Hastings had genially agreed. No doubt the child would require some direction before she was up to the mark. More important than this, however, was the knowledge of her son’s interest in the woman. Mrs. Hastings had no desire to be presented with a future daughter-in-law she had not herself approved, and while Miss Delwyn was supposed to be betrothed to Jeremy Barnett, that was information she found difficult to believe.

  None of this showed on Mrs. Hastings’ face, however, as she received the three young people when they arrived at her London town house, tired and a bit wet from the late afternoon rain that had caught up with them a few miles earlier. Her saloon was decorated in the latest fashion. Green and gold wallpaper was paired with Egyptian furniture, which had legs in the shape of exotic animals. The afternoon being still dark from the recent storm, the candles had already been set out, and their flickering shadows gave the room an even more fantastic look. Mrs. Hastings noted with satisfaction that Emmaline stared about her with patent awe.

  Nothing could have exceeded the kindness or good nature Mrs. Hastings showed as she said, “Edward, how good to have you home again. Barnett, I do not stand upon ceremony with you. Congratulations. This is, I collect, Miss Emmaline Delwyn. How do you do, my dear? How was your journey?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she went on, “I am delighted to have you. But please, everyone, sit down. No, no, closer to the fire, Jeremy, to dry out a bit. And you as well, Edward.”