Emmaline murmured a greeting, too overwhelmed to know quite what to say. Hastings was more frank. “You’ve redone the rooms again, Mama. And in such an inconspicuous way!” he said with blatant irony. “And in scarcely a week. You must have had the workmen at it day and night.”
“So I did,” she agreed with a complacent laugh. “I meant it to be a surprise. Not only for you but for one of my bosom bows who returns to London the day after tomorrow. Do you like it? Or do you find it absurd as Arthur does?”
“Both!” he answered with a laugh of his own. “And I am delighted to see you in such excellent looks, as always, Mama. That is a new gown, I collect?”
Mrs. Hastings happily smoothed the green satin of her skirt as she answered her son. “Well, Edward, the room is quite comme il faut, and I thought I ought to be as well. That meant I had to have a few new gowns to match. You will surely admit the need of that?”
“I’ll admit nothing of the sort,” he retorted good-naturedly. “You just like to buy clothes.”
“But I shall admit the need of it, if you like,” Jeremy interjected gallantly. “Though I fancy Edward meant that you would always be comme il faut no matter what you wore.” He paused then added, “I presume that the gown came from Mademoiselle Suzette.”
Mrs. Hastings cast a shrewd eye upon her guest. “Want me to take Miss Delwyn there, do you? I’d already planned on doing so. She has superb taste, works quickly, possesses exquisite discretion, and knows how to conceal the gravest flaws in one’s figure. Not that that will be a concern with Miss Delwyn,” she added, running an expert eye over the girl. “I’d advise a lighter color than the dark blue of her pelisse, however, though the rose gown she is wearing will do well enough. For mornings at home alone, at any rate. My dear, who has had a hand in dressing you?”
“No one save myself,” Emmaline answered frankly. “My mother died some years ago and there has been no one else to do so. And, indeed, even I have been hard-pressed to spare the time to look to the matter properly.”
“Well, I mean to take you in hand,” Mrs. Hastings said kindly. “And soon we shall have you turned out in the latest style.”
“Good,” Jeremy said frankly. “I shall want my, er, fiancée to have the best of everything. You need not worry, Sir Osbert and not I will be responsible for the bills, which means they will be paid.”
Mrs. Hastings raised an eyebrow but made no protest. Instead she turned to Emmaline and said kindly, “No doubt we ought to ask what you would wish, Miss Delwyn. Both Jeremy and I are inclined to ride roughshod over anyone who does not protest. Do you mind?”
With a self-possession she did not entirely feel, Emmaline replied, “How could I? I am very grateful to be able to place myself in your hands, Mrs. Hastings. This is my first visit to London and I cannot pretend that I have the knowledge to choose a modiste for myself.”
“Very neatly said.” Mrs. Hastings nodded approvingly. “Modest, a beauty, and an heiress. Even if you are already betrothed, I think you shall do very well, indeed. But enough of that. How is your father?”
“As well as can be expected,” Emmaline replied. “Do you know him?”
“I did,” Mrs. Hastings said with a smile. “That was when we were all in our salad days, of course. Not that he spent long in London before he married your mother and bore her off to a house in the country. Catherine Kendrick was her name, as I recall. But while he was here, Lord what a fuss Delwyn kicked up! Ripe for any mischief and such a superb dancer.”
While Emmaline tried to reconcile this image of her father with the man she knew, Mrs. Hastings had turned her attention back to Jeremy. “You will be coming to call tomorrow, I presume? And you will be escorting us to any events we attend?” To Emmaline’s surprise he laughed. “From your expression, my dear Mrs. Hastings, I collect you presume nothing of the sort. Instead you mean to recall me to my duty. But you need not, you know. I mean to be a model fiancé and escort my betrothed everywhere I am expected to. Does that reassure you?”
“It might,” she retorted amiably, “if I did not know you so well, Mr. Barnett. The more tame you appear, the more suspicious I become. But there, I don’t mean to chide you. Will you stay to dinner?”
Lazily Jeremy rose to his feet. “Alas, I regret that I cannot. Edward and I are pledged elsewhere and I must take my leave of you, but I shall come round in the morning.”
Mrs. Hastings shook her head decisively. “No, come in the afternoon, Jeremy. I mean to take Miss Delwyn to Mademoiselle Suzette’s directly we’ve finished breakfast tomorrow. She’ll know what will suit the girl, and I promise to rely upon her judgment. And you, Edward? I suppose it’s no use asking if you’ll be home before dawn. I vow we see less of you now than when you were off at school.”
With a laugh her son dutifully kissed her cheek and took his farewell with Jeremy. As soon as they were safely gone, Mrs. Hastings moved to the seat next to Emmaline and, clasping her hands together in her lap, said kindly, “Now my dear, you must tell me everything so that I shall know how best to help you. Should you like to make an appearance at Court? Dance at Almack’s? Go to an endless round of parties and routs and breakfasts? Or do you wish for a quiet visit and a chance to purchase those things you will need as a bride?”
“I should like to go to parties and dance and shop,” Emmaline admitted wistfully. “For I have had very little chance to do any of those things until now. But I do not wish to be a trouble to you.”
“Modesty is an excellent trait,” Mrs. Hastings said dryly, “but with me you may be as selfish as you choose, and as frank, for I tell you I shall enjoy nothing more than to take you out and about everywhere and listen to any confidences you may wish to share. I assure you I shall enjoy it all! Yes, we must give you a taste of all that London and the ton has to offer. But now, you must tell me how you did it. You must tell me how you have managed to snare the ton’s most elusive young man and its most cynical one. Are you a sorceress?”
Emmaline laughed. “Would that I were!” she replied. “No, you must give credit where it is due. This was a betrothal arranged by our parents.”
Mrs. Hastings’ eyebrows rose in astonishment. “Arranged by your parents? Good God, I had not thought Jeremy could be commanded by anyone. It is a pity, however. I had hoped that Jeremy’s heart had at last been won. Still, a good many mothers will breathe easier knowing he cannot break their daughters’ hearts.”
“Has he really such a horrid reputation?” Emmaline asked shyly. “I hoped the reports we had back home were exaggerated.”
“Not a bit of it!” Mrs. Hastings answered tartly. “My dear, I do not believe that anyone should enter marriage blindly, and I think it very wrong of your father to allow you such missish dreams about Jeremy. Particularly as even at Selborne you must have heard of his escapades.”
Mrs. Hastings paused and her expression softened as she went on, “My dear Miss Delwyn, I do not wish you to think Jeremy a bad bargain. Yes, I wish you to know his reputation, but I also wish you to know that I have often thought Jeremy driven by a devil that love would banish. I have known him to be generous and kind and thoughtful. More so than most young men his age. But never when there is anyone else about to see, if he can help it. It is almost as though he cherishes his reputation as an incorrigible fellow.”
“I see,” Emmaline said quietly. “No doubt you will find it strange, but I know very little of my fiancé even though Jeremy and I have known one another since I was a small child. These past few years, you see, my father has been ill and his father forbade him to visit us so long ... so long as he could not give a good account of himself. And now our betrothal seems very sudden to me.”
Mrs. Hastings nodded wisely. “That’s often the way of it.” She paused and said shrewdly, “Having regrets, my dear?”
Emmaline straightened her shoulders even though she was unable to meet her hostess’s eyes. “You would be a fool not to,” Mrs. Hastings said bluntly. “Not one member of the ton would blame you i
f you broke off this betrothal, though I grant you the gossip would be some time in dying away.” Still Emmaline did not reply. As though she understood perfectly, Mrs. Hastings patted Emmaline’s hands. “Never mind. Time will tell. Who knows, you may be the one to tame the boy. Now come and tell me about your father. How is his health?”
It required all of Emmaline’s strength to be able to reply quietly, “The doctor tells me it is a matter of months before my father dies. Perhaps you will think I should be at his side; that is my own opinion. But he begged me to come to London, and as the doctor said any upset might be fatal I could not argue. There is a neighbor, Mrs. Colton, who has known our family for years. She will look in upon my father every day and both she and the doctor have promised to send word at once should he take a turn for the worse.”
“Sensibly said, my dear,” Mrs. Hastings told Emmaline approvingly. “No doubt the knowledge his daughter is happily betrothed and enjoying herself in London will serve as a tonic to your father.” She paused, then added shrewdly, “And should you have second thoughts, well, you are too far away for your father to read them on your, face. He will die happy. But enough of that. It is plain to me that I am distressing you. Come upstairs and see the charming room I have had prepared for you! It was used to belong to my daughter but she is married and now I keep it for my most charming young guests. My dear, I am so looking forward to spoiling you!”
Had he been able to overhear Mrs. Hastings, Jeremy Barnett would not have been displeased. If that lady chose to favor Emmaline with her approval, she would have the entree everywhere—for there were few people who would have the courage not to invite Mrs. Hastings and her protégé to their parties. She was lively and amusing, and if her tongue was occasionally a trifle sharp, one credited that to judgment and not malice. Moreover, not the harshest critic could have faulted the attractiveness of the lady. And as her husband, Mr. Hastings, was also a general favorite, invitations of all sorts always crowded the mantelpiece in their home. Mr. Hastings greatly preferred his clubs and other male pursuits to ton parties, but no one held it against Mrs. Hastings that she often attended alone or in the company of friends, both male and female. In another woman this might have given rise to gossip, but Mrs. Hastings was far too upright for that. She was, one might have said, the perfect choice to launch a young lady upon her social career.
Jeremy said something of the sort as they made their way to White’s later that evening.
“And that is why I suggested it,” Edward replied bluntly. “M’mother will know how to take Miss Delwyn in hand and introduce her about even if she is betrothed to you.”
“Ought I to take that as an insult?” Jeremy asked his friend evenly.
“How can you?” Edward retorted. “You’ve spent the last eight years doing nothing but trying to prove you’re the wildest fellow in London. It ain’t your fault you didn’t succeed. But to complain to me now of your reputation would be the outside of enough!”
“I have been wild, haven’t I?” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “Well, my father is determined to change that and I begin to wonder if perhaps he isn’t right.”
“Here, here!” Hastings said in mock alarm. “You ain’t sick, are you? Feverish, p’rhaps? Next you’ll be telling me you mean to wed Miss Delwyn after all.”
Jeremy laughed harshly. “You forget, she has already refused me. Not that I am not grateful for the escape. I need no such determined woman about me; far better that I should find someone biddable whom I can leave behind in the country and who I may be sure will not interfere with my pleasures.”
“Oh, certainly,” Hastings agreed dryly, “and never mind the boredom.”
“Enough,” Jeremy said in a dangerously quiet voice. “You’ve made your point and we are almost at White’s. Do try to recollect our purpose tonight.” As the two young men entered White’s they immediately found themselves surrounded by Jeremy’s friends. They were, without exception, heedless rakes and gamblers and miscreants.
“Jeremy!” one of them called out, his voice showing the effects of more than a little wine. “To be leg-shackled at last, are you?”
“Did you hear of Ware’s latest scandal?” someone else said, trying to avert a fight.
“Care to wager on the race to Brighton to be held next Wednesday, Barnett?”
With something akin to dismay, Jeremy realized that there was not a one among them he could have introduced to Emmaline with pride. With unaccustomed curtness he excused himself from their company, saying, “Sorry, my friends. I am pledged to respectability for the next few months. Certainly until after my nuptials. And if you have been wagering that the notice in the Gazette was an error, have a care to your pockets.”
Amid good-natured curses, Barnett and Hastings moved on into another room of the club. Edward only had time to murmur, “You lie very well,” before they were met with frosty stares.
More than one member of White’s had been heard to state that Jeremy Barnett ought never to have been admitted to the club. Still, one or two came forward, if a trifle reluctantly, to wish him well. “Congratulations, Barnett. I own I am astonished to hear you are to wed Delwyn’s daughter,” Lord Alvanley said, a note of interest to his voice.
“Thank you, m’lord,” Jeremy replied coolly, refusing to say more.
Another member said bluntly, “I trust you will not be offended, Barnett, if I say that the girl deserves far better than you.”
“How can I be offended when I quite agree?” Jeremy replied with a simper.
Recognizing the signs of his friend’s rising temper, Edward intervened hastily, “That’s as may be, Jeremy, but the young lady appears to consider herself fortunate.”
“The more fool she!” another member snorted. Jeremy raised his quizzing glass to his eye and spoke grimly. “Ah, Crandall, but that is precisely where you are out! The last word one might use with respect to Miss Delwyn is fool. And may I remind you that I am her fiancé and that I might take grave exception to any slur cast upon her character?”
Both men stared at one another, neither willing to give way. In exasperation Hastings told Jeremy, “Oh, do give over! They will meet Miss Delwyn soon enough and see for themselves. You do her a discredit when you act as though she cannot speak for herself.”
Jeremy turned to his friend and demanded wearily, “Why is it that I tolerate you, Hastings? You are most unlike my other companions.”
“Praise God for that!” Edward replied coolly. “As for why you tolerate me, you have no choice. Miss Delwyn is staying at m’mother’s house, remember?”
“Your mother’s house?” Petersham demanded.
Suddenly everyone’s interest had been aroused. Mutters of “That makes a difference, indeed!” could be heard in the background.
As though unaware of the whispers, Hastings replied calmly, “Come, Jeremy, I believe we are engaged to play cards this evening. And before that I wish to dine.”
Arm in arm, the two friends left the room apparently oblivious to the consternation they left behind. They did not, however, in the end play cards. Instead, after more than enough wine, Jeremy Barnett angrily dragged his friend along to a certain house in St. John’s Woods. “Are you sure this is wise?” Hastings asked doubtfully. “If your father—”
“My father is precisely the reason we are going there,” Jeremy said coldly. “Even he would not expect me to give up my mistress without telling her so myself.”
“Give up your mistress?” Hastings choked. “Here, I say, isn’t that going a bit far?”
Jeremy met his friend’s eyes coolly. “As I told Miss Delwyn, I mean to give my father no cause for complaint in the next few weeks. And he would have complaint were it to get out and about I was visiting my mistress while Emmaline was in town. Besides,” he said with a wry smile, “my current situation no longer allows of my paying Daphne’s expenses. It is only fair to free her to take on a protector who can. What about you, Edward?”
Hastings looked affronted. “No offe
nse, old fellow, but you know I’ve never much liked the woman. Delightful as she is, of course.”
Jeremy bowed ironically. “Any further objections?” he asked.
“None.”
“Good. Do you mean to accompany me, then, or will you leave me to face her, er, temper alone?”
“Oh, very well, I’ll come with you,” Hastings grumbled good-naturedly. “Though mind, only if you do indeed mean to break with her.”
“I do, Hastings, I do,” came the maddeningly calm reply.
8
Word soon spread that Jeremy Barnett’s fiancée was in London and staying with Mrs. Hastings. That lady, never a recluse, found herself inundated with callers, all curious to see her young houseguest. It was a circumstance she accepted with great equanimity.
“It is only human nature,” she told Emmaline calmly. “Just as it is human nature to be spiteful should they find anything in you to dislike—so have a care, my dear. Not that I think you need worry. It is also human nature to be delighted to see such a fellow as Jeremy Barnett captured at last. Besides, if you recollect all that I have taught you these past few days, the ton should find nothing to fault in you.”
Which was no more than the truth, Emmaline, thought wryly as her maid put the finishing touches to her toilette and she prepared to go downstairs. Mademoiselle Suzette had done a superb job in outfitting Emmaline for her come out, and both Mrs. Hastings and Jeremy were doing their best to polish her manners for the ton—not that those manners had required a great deal of polishing. Still, she knew herself to be at her best as she descended the stairs. She wore a sprigged muslin gown and her hair done up charmingly by Mrs. Hastings’ own hairdresser and an air of modesty that belied her knowledge of the reason most visitors had come to call.
Jeremy was, of course, already there. He had no wish to court his father’s ire by appearing to neglect Emmaline, particularly not before his own plans were resolved. But to ensure that, he must ensure her acceptance by the dragons of the ton. So each day, as Mrs. Hastings received her visitors, he called and sat with Emmaline, the perfect embodiment of a reformed rake. More than one matron went away voicing her distrust of Barnett’s transformation, but none could deny that at the very least Miss Delwyn had coaxed such a pretense out of the young man and that was a thing most would have been prepared to wager was impossible.
The Counterfeit Betrothal Page 6
