More than that, a friendship began to grow between the counterfeit couple—albeit an uneasy one. In the quiet afternoons Jeremy would take Emmaline to visit parts of the city most members of the ton were scarcely aware of. More than one almshouse and hospital had reason to thank him for his generosity, as did a number of individuals. And after his initial disbelief that she was truly interested, he allowed Emmaline to help him in his endeavors. For Emmaline, they were a welcome change from the frivolous mornings, which, while entertaining, seemed strangely empty after the years of taking care of her father. And Jeremy could not deny that her caring concern meant as much to many of these people as his money. Still, she could not bring herself to marry him.
After one particularly tedious morning and discouraging afternoon, both Jeremy and Emmaline escaped to go for a drive with something akin to relief. She wore a gown of very becoming creamy silk with lace at the bosom and wrists, a fetching creation of straw upon her head. Jeremy wore a coat of blue that Fitted him superbly, as always, over pants of the lightest shade of brown. They made, more than one observer noted, a very handsome couple.
Neatly he threaded his curricle through the crowded streets and into the park. As usual when he was in London, Jeremy drove mismatched horses, a conceit that was but one more way that Jeremy thumbed his nose at the conventions of the ton. Sporting men knew, however, that in spite of their appearance, these horses were among the fastest goers in London and that Jeremy Barnett possessed an enviable skill with the whip.
None of these things was on Emmaline’s mind, however, as she twisted the fabric of her skirt in her hands. Unaware of her unusual distress, Jeremy continued with his lecture. “Upon no account, must you waltz at Almack’s until you are given permission. You are fortunate as it is to receive cards admitting you, but Edward knew his mother would somehow contrive. I suppose we must thank the Countess Lieven. She has always disliked me intensely and it is her way of saying she is delighted I am to be leg-shackled at last.”
“How gratifying to know that my acceptance is based upon my ability to discomfort you,” Emmaline replied, goaded by these words.
Jeremy drew his horses to a halt and turned to look at Emmaline in astonishment. “Now that is the most hen-witted thing I have ever heard! As if you didn’t know very well that my current acceptance is due almost entirely to your patent virtues.” Emmaline shrugged and, exasperated, Jeremy went on, “I should think you might have the grace to at least appear grateful for the efforts I am making upon your behalf. I have introduced you to no less than five very respectable, very eligible young gentlemen. And with luck you will soon have your pick of a great many more. All acceptable to your father and mine.”
“Oh yes, they were respectable indeed!” Emmaline agreed, her eyes flashing. “And all five of them without two thoughts to rub together between them.”
Aghast at what she had just said, Emmaline covered her mouth with one hand. In spite of himself, Jeremy laughed and once more urged his horses forward. “Well, but you cannot blame me for that,” he told her with a grin. “You claim to be so respectable yourself that I thought you would like them.”
“Hmmm,” Emmaline agreed warily. “As though I didn’t know very well that you are worried about what your father will say when we break off our betrothal. You wish to see me settled with someone he would approve of.”
This was familiar ground. Once more Jeremy risked a glance at Emmaline. “Someone you and your father would approve of,” he corrected her grimly. “Somehow I find that matters more to me than what my father will think of the fellow. How is your father? What news do you have of him?”
Emmaline looked down at her hands and spoke with some difficulty. “Mrs. Colton, writes that he is doing well but I cannot help but know she is trying to spare me worry. I have lived too long with Papa’s illness to believe he will recover. But at least I am reassured there are no new crisis.”
“And did you write your father about London?” Jeremy asked, a trifle anxiously.
In spite of herself, Emmaline smiled. “Yes, yes I did. And Papa wrote back that he is delighted I am enjoying myself. He says that even in the shires word has reached him of the success I am having. He also says that word has reached your father of your reformed behavior and Lord Barnett is more confirmed than ever in his belief that our betrothal was a good thing. Papa says he is still pressing for an immediate wedding but he has persuaded him to wait a little longer.”
“Thank God for your father’s good sense!” Jeremy said savagely. “Were matters left to mine, we would have a disaster upon our heads.”
Emmaline placed a gentle hand on Jeremy’s arm. “I cannot think your father means you ill,” she said. “Too often I have heard him speak of you with gruff affection, for all the anger that was in his voice as well.”
Biting off each word as he spoke, Jeremy said, “My father has always hated me. I cannot doubt that if he could, he would have me unborn. Were it possible, he would disown me entirely and I him. Instead you and I are forced to this masquerade, and I am sorry you must play a part in it. You would have been better off had you never known my father and me.”
Quietly Emmaline withdrew her hand. “Indeed?” she asked with a sigh. “Have you forgotten that I accepted you of my own free will? Or that I agreed to this plan to please both our fathers? To be sure it was a mistake, but you can scarcely claim all the blame yourself for our mutual folly.”
“It is pointless to argue with you, isn’t it?” he asked with a laugh.
“Certainly it is if you intend to wallow in self-pity,” she replied bluntly. “So let us speak of other matters. I think I may have someone you will like.”
Jeremy groaned. “Another demure chit, straight from the schoolroom?” he demanded.
“That is not entirely fair,” Emmaline said frostily. “I have also pointed out to you two widows, both just shy of four and twenty.”
“Aye, and both have thrown their caps at me before,” he told Emmaline grimly. “I don’t like them nor would my father.”
“Shall I look among the demimonde, then?” Emmaline asked sweetly. “I had thought of it, knowing your preference for their company, but the thought of your father held me back. After all, had that been acceptable, you would long since have chosen Daphne,” she said, throwing out a name she had overheard coupled with his, hoping he would deny it.
But as usual, Jeremy did not do as Emmaline wished. Instead, he once more halted the horses and turned to her, his face full of thunder. So angry was he that he grasped her wrist with his hand as he roared, “By the devil! Is this the effect a betrothal to me has had on you? Surely Mrs. Hastings, if no one else, has told you that my mistresses are none of your affair. You know very well you ought never to think of such things much less speak of them, particularly to me. I ought to...”
Her heart pounding with rage and jealousy, Emmaline spoke more defiantly than she meant to. “You ought to what?” she challenged him with smoldering eyes.
And there, in the park, in full view of the ton, Jeremy kissed Emmaline, pulling her to him angrily and pressing his lips down on hers punishingly. To his astonishment and her own, she found herself once more giving in to the insistence of his caresses, her own hands stealing around his neck as his stole around her waist. All the hours that both of them had spent assuring themselves this would never happen again dissolved as if they had never been. Only the restlessness of his horses pulled Jeremy back to his senses. As he fought to get them under control, Emmaline leaned back, coloring, as she became aware of the amused stares of passersby. Too late, pride came to her rescue as she demanded furiously, “Why did you do that? It will only make our betrothal the harder to break!”
Angry himself, Jeremy did not at once reply. Instead, he settled his horses, then urged them forward at an extremely sedate pace before he said coolly, “Don’t worry, Miss Delwyn. With my reputation it will be assumed that I forced myself upon you and have given you a distaste of me. Though I must say that
your own response will make that a trifle hard to swallow. Are you trying to imitate Daphne? I assure you, you cannot match her skill!” He paused, then said very deliberately, “If you are so determined to be rid of me, my dear, I suggest you curb your wayward nature or you may have no choice in the matter. Neither of us will.”
Emmaline blushed hotly, her anger fanned by his reference to his mistress. She forced herself to speak calmly, however. “We cannot break off the betrothal at once, in any event. Our agreement is that we would not until you had found an alternative partner. Unless ... has your solicitor said there is a way around your father’s conditions?” she asked eagerly.
“Until we had found alternative partners,” Jeremy reminded her irritably. “And no, Nicholson tells me there is no way around them. The estate is entailed in such a way that I am completely at my father’s mercy.”
“I see.” Emmaline leaned back with a sigh. A trifle grimly she said, “I must confess that your settlement seems to me a greater priority than my own. After all, we need merely tell him I broke the engagement for my own reasons.”
“And your father?”
“My father will understand, if he is still alive to care. I shall make him understand,” she told him resolutely. “But you are changing the subject.”
“If you are waiting for me to say I am sorry I kissed you, then I must tell you I will not,” Jeremy replied with maddening calm. “I quite enjoyed myself and would not mind doing so again. And it is quite evident you felt the same. I don’t expect you to admit to that, however, since you insist upon having taken me in such dislike. As to your reputation, should someone have the poor grace to mention it, you need merely freeze the person with a stare and he or she will begin to think themselves mistaken. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Emmaline replied coolly.
“Good.” He paused, then added high-handedly, “But I think we had best look about us for a husband for you, whatever your protests. If you are this warm-blooded with someone you say you dislike, you had best have someone to bed you whom you can marry,” he told her ruthlessly. “Unless you are of a mind to marry me after all?”
“Never!” she retorted. Then, with a scornful laugh she added, “Why? Does your father press harder for an immediate resolution? Are your creditors hounding you at your door?”
“You appear to give very little credence to my proposal,” Jeremy said, lips white with anger.
“Pray, pardon me, sir,” Emmaline said with exaggerated courtesy, “for doubting you. Why, after my experience with your honesty in such matters, I must be all about in my head to question your motives. Perhaps you are genuinely tired of looking about you for a wife and have decided that I must do, after all. Kind sir, I am overwhelmed by your flattery! No, Jeremy, I think we had best stick to our plans and find you another bride.”
For a long moment he did not speak. Then, curtly he said, “Well? Are you going to tell me who it is you have found for me?”
“Have you ever met Rosalind Kirkwood?” Emmaline asked, eager to change the subject. “I know she has been absent from London this Season because her youngest sister was ill, but now she has returned. I thought you might have already met her, however, because she was brought out three years ago.”
Barnett frowned. “Kirkwood? Yes. A quiet girl, so far as I recall, but not an altogether unattractive one. Have you been introduced to her?”
“More than that,” Emmaline replied with a smile. “Rosalind and I were best friends at school. She has a fine mind, good conversation, some wit, and general amiability. Your father would certainly like and approve of her and yet she is less likely to bore you than most of the girls you will find in London this Season. No doubt she will be at Carlton House tomorrow night.”
“You have convinced me,” Jeremy said gallantly. Emmaline regarded him with distinct suspicion, and after a moment, he added teasingly, “To meet her, at any rate, and speak with her.”
“You won’t fall in love, I expect,” Emmaline said with a shrug, “but it is the best I can do. And there are reasons that I think she might not be entirely averse to your suit.”
Once more Jeremy drew his horses to a halt and placed a hand over hers, this time comfortingly. “I don’t expect passion,” he said. “My father has made it clear that I am past the point where I may be so choosy. No, I only look for a solution to get us both out of this tangle my father has placed us in. And to find a woman whose face I will not come to hate over the breakfast table and who will not come to hate mine. I admit to some surprise, however, that your friend is unmarried, if she is as delightful as you say.”
Emmaline chose her words carefully. “Rosalind is prone to ... to shyness, but in spite of that she does not lack sense.”
“Nevertheless, her family ought to have seen to finding her a husband,” Jeremy pointed out with a frown.
“And so they should have,” Emmaline replied tartly, “if Lady Kirkwood were not so fond of having a daughter about upon whose shoulders she could lay the responsibility for running the household and whom she could turn to for company. Why do you look so doubtful? Lady Kirkwood is, after all, only following the lead of the Queen.”
“I see,” Jeremy said grimly. “The girl is so far past her prayers that she would marry anyone. Unless, of course, she has had her head filled with nonsense and expects romance and a hero to sweep her off of her feet.”
“Rosalind is not addicted to novels, if that is what you mean,” Emmaline replied severely. “Nor does she confuse life with what is to be found between the covers of a book.” She paused and a wry smile twisted her lips as she said, “You need not fear. Unlike me, Rosalind is an eminently sensible young woman. I cannot count the number of arguments we used to have at school. I held that marriage ought only to come with love and she argued that not only was I foolish but naive as well. She held that were the two people personable, intelligent, and civilized, any pair might make a go of marriage. She will not chide you for having mistresses,” Emmaline could not resist adding bitterly.
“Well then,” Jeremy said briskly, “we must hope that our apparent betrothal does not rule me out in her eyes. I shall look to you for help with that. Otherwise she sounds admirable for our purpose. A pity I am such a bad bargain for her.”
As Emmaline’s face softened in distress he added curtly, urging his horses forward again, “Nor do I want your pity, thank you Miss Delwyn. Look to your own future for that!”
He could not know what effort it cost her to smile. Suddenly the day seemed grim at the notion of Rosalind and Jeremy together and she wished the words unsaid. Last night, when she had thought about the matter, Emmaline had been clear-headed. Rosalind was the perfect choice, if she was not to marry Jeremy herself. And she would not. But that was before he had kissed her. And now it was too late.
Back at Mrs. Hastings’ town house Emmaline discovered two more letters waiting for her, this time from her sisters. Caroline was concerned that Emmaline should be enjoying herself so heedlessly in London while neglecting their father at home. She did allow, however, that Mrs. Colton was taking good care of Sir Osbert. Too good care, Emmaline could almost hear her sister sniffing. In the other letter Adeline scolded Emmaline for having her name bandied about so freely among the ton. As she had said before Emmaline left for London, she felt it improper and immodest of Emmaline to expose herself to on-dits instead of quietly marrying Jeremy Barnett. Indeed, she did not see the necessity of Emmaline making a London come out at all. After all she and Caroline had not displayed such vanity.
In spite of herself, Emmaline could not entirely suppress a sigh. If Adeline considered it improper of her to have come to London, what would she say if she knew what had occurred in the park today?
“Trouble, my dear?” Mrs. Hastings asked briskly from the doorway of the drawing room.
Emmaline started at the sound of her hostess’s voice. She delayed a moment in turning around. After all, what could she say? She had no doubt that Mrs. Hastings would be appalled i
f she knew how far beyond the pale Emmaline had put herself with her behavior. In the end she prevaricated.
“Only my sisters reminding me that it is my duty to be at my father’s side,” Emmaline replied with apparent frankness. “A duty I fear I am sadly neglecting.”
“Nonsense!” Mrs. Hastings retorted stoutly.
“I wish I could be certain,” Emmaline smiled sadly. “However, I will not argue with you any more than I will argue with my father.”
“Are you enjoying London?” Mrs. Hastings asked, a trifle anxiously.
“To be sure.” Emmaline forced herself to laugh. “And that is part of my guilt.”
“Well, since you are here,” Mrs. Hastings said briskly, “it is absurd to regret your good fortune, for then you will have wasted it.”
On impulse Emmaline rose and walked over to her hostess. “You are kind,” she said. “And I am very fortunate to be your houseguest.”
“So you are,” that redoubtable lady agreed. “And to further regret your presence here in London is to insult me as a hostess,” she decreed imperiously.
“And that I could not do!” Emmaline agreed with a laugh. “Very well, I shall cease to mourn and go upstairs and consult with Mary as to what gown I should wear tonight to the theater.”
9
In the end it was Hastings who met Rosalind Kirkwood first. Emmaline had risen early after a night filled with half-remembered dreams. Her restlessness communicated itself to Edward over the breakfast table and he asked if there were any errands he could run for her. He had already heard a garbled version of what had occurred in the park from someone who had seen the pair and he now drew his own conclusions.
The Counterfeit Betrothal Page 7
