She backed away from him. “No, of course not!” she cried. “How could you think such a thing?”
Jeremy regarded her insolently. With cool deliberation he sat down, put his feet up on another chair, and said, “Oh? Then you have other plans? Perhaps you mean to simply run away with this ... this man you claim to love?”
She shook her head and he went on tauntingly, “Why not? Because you value your independence too highly? Or because you think he will not marry you?”
“I know he will not,” she replied, her voice scarcely above a whisper.
“I think you will find you are mistaken. I have spoken to him myself,” Jeremy answered, leaning his chair back so that he could see her face.
At that Emmaline turned to meet his eyes squarely, rage beginning to flame inside her. “You utter fool!” she hissed at him. “You utterly arrogant fool! I wish I may never set eyes on you again!”
Then she ran toward the door, meaning to go anywhere so long as she escaped from his presence. The chair scraped the floor as she spoke and Jeremy was right behind her as she reached for the handle. Just as she tried to open the door there was the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock and the sound of two voices laughing from the other side of the door. Rosalind’s words came first. “Now you shall have to work out matters between you,” she said.
“And we shan’t let you out until you do,” Edward added firmly.
“What about the elopement?” Emmaline demanded frantically.
“I shall take care of everything,” Edward replied coolly, “but there isn’t going to be an elopement and you might ask Jeremy why.”
Again there was laughter and then the sound of footsteps moving away. Both Emmaline and Jeremy pounded on the door but to no avail. “He must have bribed the innkeeper quite well,” Jeremy observed grimly when they gave up at last. Then, in a voice that dripped contempt, he goaded her, “And this is the man you love?”
Emmaline backed away. “I never said he was the man I loved,” she flung at him.
“No?” Jeremy leaned his shoulders against the door. “Who else?” She did not reply and he laughed harshly. “You haven’t even the courage to admit it. Why not? Pride? Because he helped to lock you in this room with me?
“Pride?” she countered. “What about you? Haven’t you any anger that Edward has thwarted your marriage to Rosalind?”
He shrugged and said carelessly, “Oh, but I never claimed there was love in that. You know as well as I that the elopement was a means of saving both the lady and myself from a worse fate.”
“Ah, yes, marriage to me,” Emmaline observed bitterly.
At that Jeremy hurled an oath and crossed the room to grasp her arms and shake her as he said roughly, “You forget, my dear, that you were the one to end our betrothal.”
Somehow Emmaline wrenched herself free. Retreating, she flung at him, “Oh, yes. I recall how keen you were for the match. How you so eagerly set a date for the wedding vows and proclaimed it to everyone who asked. No doubt you always go pale and flinch when you are deliriously happy as you were when people congratulated us upon the betrothal.”
The table was between them now, and both were breathing heavily. Jeremy laughed harshly as he said, “How touching. Next I suppose you will tell me you broke off the betrothal for my sake?”
“No, for my own!” she flung back at him.
“Why?” he taunted her. “Because I was such an ogre toward you? Because you heard too many tales of my past conduct and that terrified your little Puritan heart and you could not bear to be shackled to me? What were you afraid of, my dear? That I would force you to attend my orgies? If so, you mistook me. I should have held my orgies quite distinct from our household.”
“You dare to boast of it?” she demanded incredulously.
“Why not?” he asked coolly, advancing around the table toward her.
Emmaline moved further away. “If this is what you intend, I can only be grateful Edward has prevented your elopement. You are worse than the Marquess of Alnwick.”
“Oh come, come,” he chided her. “Surely not that. After all, unlike Alnwick, I should never force unwelcome attentions upon my wife, only my mistresses. What could there be for a wife to object to in that?”
Shaking with rage and close to tears, Emmaline said, “I hate you! You are completely incapable of understanding how a wife would feel. If she loved you, that would hurt more than if you did force your attentions on her.” Resentfully she could not keep from adding, “You probably wouldn’t even know if they were unwelcome to her or not.”
Jeremy, who had continued to move around the table, halted abruptly and regarded Emmaline with a puzzled look to his glittering eyes. “Indeed?” he asked softly. “And is that what you were afraid of? That I should take too many mistresses? That would have distressed you? Beyond the matter of your pride?”
In panic, Emmaline turned her eyes away from him. “I—I ... it is nothing to me what you do. We were speaking of Rosalind, weren’t we?”
Because she had looked away, Emmaline did not see him swiftly close the distance between them until he reached out and imprisoned her wrists with his hands. Softly, his eyes still glittering dangerously at her, Jeremy said, “I was asking why you chose to break off our betrothal.”
Vainly Emmaline tried to break free but his grip was like iron. Panting, she demanded, “What does it matter why I broke our betrothal? All that matters is that I have.”
“So that you can turn to Edward? Where were you going tonight? For you cannot deny that you meant to go somewhere. And with Edward, for he would not have let you go alone,” Jeremy demanded harshly. “Why? Because he does not frighten you as I do? Because you think he does not have mistresses? You are in for a surprise there, my dear.” He paused, then demanded more softly, “Or is it that he doesn’t frighten you because he does not make you feel like this?”
And then his lips were on hers, demanding the response he knew would come. As always, a wave of longing swept over her and Emmaline could not help but sway toward Jeremy. One hand freed her right wrist and went around her waist, imprisoning her against the length of his body. With horror she realized she could feel the evidence of his desire pressed intimately against her. As though she were drowning, Emmaline clung to him, lost to all sense of time, all sense of propriety.
It was Jeremy who broke the embrace. “Damn you,” he said, looking down at her. “I won’t let you marry Edward. I don’t care how safe he makes you feel. You’ll marry me if I have to keep you locked in this room all night to convince you! And then we’ll go and tell my father. He’ll be delighted, you may be sure.”
Emmaline felt as though a tub of cold water had been dashed over her. His father. Of course. With the elopement to Rosalind thwarted he must make sure of a wife before he next saw his father. All this had nothing to do with her; Jeremy was simply very skilled in lovemaking. She ought to have remembered that, for everyone had been at such pains to tell her so.
As though he sensed the change in her. Jeremy let go of Emmaline and looked at her, a puzzled expression on his face. She had gone pale and utterly listless, and instead of reacting either with favor or anger to his words, she merely sat in the nearest chair and said tonelessly. “No Jeremy I shan’t marry you. It doesn’t matter how long you keep me here. But if you wish, I'll speak to your father and tell him the betrothal is broken and that it is not your fault.”
“He won’t believe you,” Jeremy could not help but say. “But that is beside the point.”
Slowly Emmaline shook her head. “‘No, that precisely the point. You don't wish to marry me any more tonight than you did when he first proposed the match.”
“You seem very certain of that.” Jeremy replied harshly.
Still not looking at him, she said dully “I am. Oh, I’ll allow you almost convinced me. You are very skilled at what you do. But I know very well that if it were not for your father's command and his threat to leave you to starve, you would
not wish for marriage. And certainly not marriage to me.”
Finally she raised her eves to look at him but Jeremy had turned away and was regarding the fireplace fixedly. For a long tune he did not answer, but when he did he said quietly, “And if it were different? If I had truly wished to marry you? Would you have found the notion so distasteful?”
It was madness to reply with honesty but tonight Emmaline felt drunk with madness. Nothing seemed to matter as she said, “If that had been so, I would have wed you with all my heart and spent my life in loving you.”
Jeremy whirled around, hope in his eyes, only to have the grimness once more possess him as he saw the finality in her face. And so it ended, he thought, as he cursed himself as a fool for so badly bungling matters ever since the beginning.
21
BARNETT and Mrs. Hastings reached the inn first. Discreet questioning of the owner of the Cat and Hound brought the welcome news that the persons they sought were still there. “If you will follow me,” the innkeeper said with a bow, “I shall take you to the parlor where your young friends are waiting.”
Grimly the two did as they were bid. Grimness, however, turned to astonishment as the door of the private parlor opened and they found themselves facing only Edward and Rosalind. “Where is my son?” Barnett demanded as soon as the innkeeper had left them alone.
“Where is Emmaline?” Mrs. Hastings demanded of her son. “Aren’t you eloping with her?”
Edward regarded the angry pair calmly. To Lord Barnett he said, holding out something to that gentleman, “You will find your son and Miss Delwyn down the hall. Third door on the right. Here is the key to that parlor.”
Without further explanation he waited for Lord Barnett to go and the gentleman did so with a bow to Mrs. Hastings. Edward then turned to Rosalind and, taking her hand, said with perfect equanimity, “There is no elopement, Mama. I am, however, taking Miss Kirkwood tonight to stay with Aunt Theresa for a few weeks until I have come to terms with her father. You may as well know that we are going to be married.”
Mrs. Hastings promptly fainted.
Lord Barnett, at precisely the same moment, was unlocking the door to the parlor that Edward Hastings had indicated. As he did so, he saw Sir Osbert and his wife Anna hurrying toward him. Without words they entered to find Emmaline and Jeremy at opposite sides of the room, refusing to look at one another. Bewildered, Sir Osbert said, “Where are young Hastings and Miss Kirkwood?”
“In the other parlor,” Lord Barnett answered curtly. Sir Osbert turned to go to them but Barnett stopped him. “In a moment,” he said. “First, I should like you to hear what I am going to say to Emmaline.” Moving to where she stood, he took her hands in his and said, “My dear child, I have come to tell you that I have changed my mind. You need not marry Jeremy. You have made me realize that I must not force him to the altar with my threats.”
As Emmaline tried to choke out a thank you, Sir Osbert strode into the center of the room, his cane all but forgotten as he demanded, “What the devil are you talking about, Gilbert? Of course they are to be married.”
Lord Barnett looked at his old friend and said heavily, “No. Your daughter was prepared to run off with young Hastings rather than do so.”
“What?” Sir Osbert demanded incredulously.
“You must have windmills in your head! Edward Hastings was eloping with Miss Kirkwood.”
As the two older men glared at one another Jeremy coughed discreetly, drawing their attention. “Actually,” he said hesitantly, “I was to elope with Miss Kirkwood. Both of us, it seems, realized our mistake, however, before committing such a folly.”
Sir Osbert’s face was gray as he turned to his daughter and said, “My poor Emmaline. I never meant this to happen to you. What a devil of a thing for you to face.”
Emmaline took his hand and forced herself to smile as she said, “It’s all right, Papa.”
“But why didn’t you tell me that matters had gone awry between you?” he asked in bewilderment.
“I thought you were still very ill,” she replied softly, “and I had no wish to distress you.”
As father and daughter embraced, Lord Barnett had the grace to look abashed as he turned to his son. “I am sorry, Jeremy,” he said with uncharacteristic gentleness. “In meaning the best for you, it seems I have only succeeded in making a muddle of everything. And in misjudging you. Mrs. Hastings has been giving me the sharp edge of her tongue, as we came here, telling me that you are far more of a man than I have ever given you credit for.”
Jeremy would have spoken then, but he was forestalled by the appearance of Mrs. Hastings with her son Edward and Rosalind. A trifle shakily Mrs. Hastings announced, “It appears that my son and Miss Kirkwood are soon to be betrothed.” Ignoring the hasty exclamations, she went on, “The three of us are leaving now to take Miss Kirkwood to my sister Theresa’s house where she will be staying until the wedding.”
Sir Osbert spoke blankly. “But Lady Kirkwood expects me to bring her back home tonight. She believes the two of them are eloping.”
“I am afraid it will not be possible for Miss Kirkwood to return home just yet,” Edward said grimly as he patted Rosalind’s hand reassuringly. “Not until her father and I have had a chance to speak and he listens to reason. I will not have Rosalind betrothed to anyone against her will.”
“Or kept from the betrothal against my will,” Rosalind added shyly.
Jeremy was the first to recover. With long strides he crossed the room and kissed Rosalind’s hand. “My warmest felicitations,” he told her. Then turning to Edward, he said severely, “You wretched fellow! And not a word of it to me except to pretend to aid me in this sham elopement. What the devil were you about, taking part in such nonsense?”
“You would not listen to reason,” Edward answered mildly. Then, looking past his friend he said, “Emmaline? Won’t you wish us well?”
Forcing a smile, she replied warmly, “Of course I shall. It has been my dearest wish to see Rosalind happy and I know that she will be with vou.” As she spoke Emmaline embraced her friend and added softly, “Now you need never be afraid of your parents or the Marquess of Alnwick again.” She would have pulled back then, but Rosalind held tightly on to her friend’s hands as she asked sternly, “And you? Have you and Jeremy worked matters out between you?”
Emmaline shook her head and would have denied it when she suddenly felt an arm go around her waist. From beside her she heard Jeremy’s voice reply smoothly, “Why, I don’t doubt our wedding will follow close upon the heels of your own. Unless, of course, my father can help me obtain a special license, in which case we will dance at yours as a married couple.”
In shock Emmaline tried to pull her hands free of Rosalind’s and her waist free of Jeremy’s imprisoning arm but neither would let go. Frantically she looked up at Jeremy, conscious that Rosalind’s eyes were dancing as she said, “I knew that if we tricked you, matters would work out between you. That is all Edward and I have stayed to hear.”
“But we aren’t going to be married,” Emmaline finally managed to protest.
“Of course we are,” Jeremy retorted sternly. Then, pulling her closer to him, he added to the others, a hint of laughter in his voice, “Don’t worry, I shall soon school her not to contradict me in front of my friends, shan’t I, my love?” Then he looked down at Emmaline with a warmth that threatened to shatter her completely.
Mrs. Hastings broke the silence that followed that outrageousness by saying firmly, “If the two of you wish to spend the rest of the night billing and cooing, that is up to you, but we must be on our way. Theresa is expecting us and I still have to dispatch Lady Kirkwood a note explaining what is afoot. I don’t doubt she’ll be angry but she is not such a nodcock as to cause a scandal when we have offered her a way out of it.”
The next few minutes were occupied with leave-taking and Emmaline tried to ignore the arm about her waist that did not once slacken. When the three had gone, however, it wa
s time for Emmaline and Jeremy to face their fathers.
“What the devil is going on?” Lord Barnett demanded. “I have said you need not get married, Jeremy.”
“Unhand my daughter,” Sir Osbert said, restraining his temper with great effort. “She has already told us she does not wish to marry you.”
He would have said more had Anna not laid a hand on his arm and warned him with her eyes to be still. Meanwhile Emmaline could not bring herself to look at any of them and she tried instead to break free. “You heard my father, let me go,” she said, pounding her fists upon Jeremy’s chest.
Without effort he imprisoned her hands with one of his own, the other arm still tight about her waist. The laughter in his voice was even more pronounced as he said, “Oh, no, my little vixen, not until you set a date for our wedding.”
“I told you I won’t,” she retorted, looking up at Jeremy. “Have you forgotten what I said already?” Too late she realized her mistake as she felt herself go weak under his gaze.
A smile played about his lips as he replied coolly, “I have forgotten nothing.” As she colored he went on, “You said that you would not marry me because I was doing so at my father’s command. You said that if, instead, I was asking you to marry me of my own free will, you would do so with all your heart and love. Well? You do not see my father threatening me anymore. You do not see your father pressing for the match. Indeed, I think they are all but ready to hang me for suggesting such a thing.”
If Jeremy’s voice quivered with laughter, Osbert’s quivered with rage as he said, “Emmaline, you will not marry this fellow. I refuse to allow such a match to take place!”
Barnett’s voice was close behind as he said, “I warn you, Jeremy, if you try to force Emmaline to this match, which is so evidently distasteful to her, I shall cut you off without a penny!”
Jeremy let go Emmaline’s hands and tilted up her chin to make her meet his eyes, laughing outright as he said, “You see? I fear it is Gretna Green for us, after all. But at least now you cannot accuse me of motives other than love when I tell you that I mean to marry you.”
The Counterfeit Betrothal Page 16
