The Demure Debutante - a Regency Novella

by Caylen McQueen

  Who could possibly resist your face? Emilia mused. If Arthur showed even the slightest bit of interest in her, she knew he would have her heart in a second. Fortunately, he had shown no interest whatsoever, so her heart remained intact.

  For the moment.

  * * *

  Willow found her brother in the study, which happened to be her bookish brother's usual late-night haunt. As always, his nose was stuffed between a book's pages, and his eyes were lit with excitement. Nothing captured his interest quite like a good read.

  “Arthur,” Willow addressed him as she strolled into the room.

  “Willow,” he acknowledged her. “You're up late. Are you here to destroy my peace?”

  Willow stood behind her brother and swatted his arm. “How unkind! I just wanted to talk!”

  “So? Talk.” Arthur pointed at the chair across from him.

  “If you're going to be rude, I'm going to leave!”

  Before she could walk away, Arthur seized his sister's arm. “Wait. Don't go. You know I enjoy your company!” Arthur closed his book and folded his hands in front of him, preparing to give her his undivided attention. “What did you wish to discuss?”

  Willow sunk into the chair, but her nose was still wrinkled by her brother's cold reception of her. “I wanted to talk about my fiance and his family. What do you think of them?”

  “Well, you know Edward has already won my approval. Even if I had picked him myself, I could not have found a better man for you.”

  “That's reassuring,” Willow said. “What about the mother and the sister? What do you think of them?” In the back of her mind, Willow wondered if she could play matchmaker. Emilia had already expressed an interest in her brother—perhaps the interest was not one-sided? Willow was determined to find out!

  “Augusta seems a bit silly, but pleasant enough.”

  “And Emilia?” Willow pressed. “How do you feel about her?”

  “She seems very timid. Timid, but kind.”

  His assessment was so curt, Willow was already starting to lose hope. “Is that all? I saw you whispering to each other during supper. And it looked... intimate.”

  “Intimate? I don't know about that,” Arthur scoffed. “But do you know what? She said I looked like a pirate!”

  “A pirate? You?!” Willow laughed at the notion. “But you're the most starchy, stuffy, unadventurous man I've ever met!”

  “I know!” he agreed. “I thought it was an interesting comparison nevertheless, and Emilia seems like a good girl. I have not known her very long, but I already have a kind of... brotherly regard for her.”

  “Oh? Really?” Willow looked down at her thumbs and fidgeted. “So you would never consider her as a romantic prospect?”

  “Goodness no!” His sister's question made him laugh, which left her no room to doubt his answer. “She's much too young!”

  “Too young?! I don't think so!”

  “No, really. She is,” Arthur insisted. “She is practically a child.”

  “She's eighteen! When I was her age, I was married... and to a man who is much older than you!”

  “True. And you know I never approved of that. I wanted to see you happy.” Arthur leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Anyway, why all this talk about Emilia? Is there something you're not telling me?”

  “No.” Willow's shoulders were hitched by the tiniest of shrugs. “I just thought she might be a good match for you, seeing as she's very sweet and... and she likes animals... and she likes to read.”

  “Then she'll be a wonderful sister,” Arthur insisted, then he picked up his book and turned his attention back to reading.

  Chapter Five

  “Tell me again,” Willow beseeched him. “I just want to hear the words again!”

  Edward placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze in his direction. As he stared into her eyes, he whispered, “I love you.”

  “It sounds like you really mean it.”

  “I do mean it,” he insisted. “I l-l-love you.”

  Willow's hands flew to her hips. “Did you really just stutter your declaration of love!?”

  “I did,” Edward said, looking a bit disappointed in himself.

  “Well... you know what that means, don't you?!” Willow waited a few seconds for the threat to sink in, then she pinched his rear end. “There! An appropriate punishment!”

  Edward looked down the hallway, making sure her brother was not around to witness Willow's brazen behavior. At present, they were standing in front of Willow's bedchamber, where they were having a difficult time parting ways. The moment she disappeared behind the door, it meant he would not see her until the morning, and he hated to spend another painful eight hours without her.

  The farewell became even more impossible when Willow pulled him down for a kiss. She suckled his lips, kissed his chin, and then her mouth wandered down to his neck. “I love you,” she said. Edward was the only man to whom she uttered those words, and he was the first man to whom she meant them.

  “I love you,” Edward repeated, careful not to stutter this time. “But if you keep kissing me, I'll never be able to leave.”

  “Then I'll have to kiss you for the rest of the night, because I don't want you to leave!” Willow's tongue relocated his mouth. When she slipped it between his lips, he nearly passed out.

  “You better stop there, or I won't be able to resist you,” Edward cautioned her.

  “You don't have to resist me!” Willow opened the door and tried to pull him beyond the threshold, but he wouldn't budge. “You know I want you.”

  “And I want you!” Edward adamantly assured her. “But you know I can't... not until we are married!”

  Willow sighed. The fact that her fiance was saving himself for marriage was as charming as it was frustrating. “Very well. But we need to get married soon.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And we should have a party, don't you think? To celebrate our engagement? I want my friends and family to meet my wonderful fiance!” Willow paused for a moment, tapping her chin as she considered her words. “Well, at the very least, I want my friends to meet you. I don't have much of a family. My brother is all there is.”

  “Not for long.” Edward took her hand and held it against his lips. “Before you know it, I'll be your family.”

  * * *

  As Emilia mounted her horse, she could practically hear her mother scolding her. She knew it was foolish to go riding by herself, especially when she was unfamiliar with the surrounding area. However, Edward was not around to accompany her, and she couldn't resist the temptation to enjoy an afternoon ride. According to Willow, the countryside was beautiful. Emilia had been trapped in foggy London for so long, she needed to surround herself in lush green landscape, even if she had to go alone.

  Emilia took the horse's bridle and urged it forward, heading for distant hills and distant trees. Every now and then, she cast a glance over her shoulder, back in the direction from whence she came. When Sanborne Hall had disappeared, her lips curled into a smile. Everywhere she looked, she was surrounded by resplendent meadow, which filled her with an overwhelming sense of freedom and adventure.

  Her journey led her to a shallow brook, where brightly colored fish were swimming upstream. Her horse tried to stop for a drink, but Emilia hastened onward. As they crossed the brook, she stared into the water, watching the fish scatter and flick their tails. Emilia and her horse headed toward a thatch of trees, where overhanging branches were lit by the golden sun.

  Several minutes later, she arrived at a field of wildflowers, where she spotted daisies, bluebells, poppies and sunflowers. Emilia dismounted her horse and went to collect some of the flowers. She gathered a fistful of sunflowers, because those were her favorite, and inhaled their sweet honeyed scent. When she turned around, she saw something that temporarily halted her heartbeat.

  Her horse was gone!

  “Um... Greymare?!” Emilia shouted, because that was the horse's nam
e, according to the stable hand. She did not think the horse would recognize its moniker, but it was worth a try. “Greymare!!”

  Emilia twirled in every direction, hoping she would catch a glimpse of an equine snout. Discarding her flowers, she returned to the woods, hoping to catch up to the animal if that was the direction she went. But Emilia saw nothing, not the merest flash of a mane or a horse's tail. When she turned around and headed back to the wildflowers, she tripped over a mossy stone and fell to the ground. Fortunately, she caught herself, so the damage was minimal. Her gloves were soiled, her dress was muddied, and her knees were slightly sore.

  However, when she tripped, Emilia lost her sense of direction. She tried to return to the field of flowers, but all she saw was woods. She eventually rediscovered the babbling brook, but it was a part of the brook she did not recognize. There was a wall of stones on one side of a brook, as well as a tiny waterfall. Emilia tried to follow the water, thinking it would lead her back to Sanborne Hall, but she must have been going the wrong way, because none of the scenery was familiar.

  “Dash it all...” Emilia cursed under her breath. She sat on the ground and pulled off her boots, which were unsuitable for walking long distances. She had expected to be riding, not gallivanting for miles. After giving her feet a quick massage, she donned her boots and laced them up as tightly as she could, hoping it would prevent them from rubbing her ankle.

  Emilia rose to her feet and continued her walk, but the situation went from bad to worse. She must have been roaming around much longer than she realized, because the sun was already sinking below the horizon. She was completely lost—and soon it would be getting dark.

  After another mile or so, Emilia sat on a fallen log and pulled off her dirty gloves. She buried her face in her hands and let out a dry sob. She was frustrated with herself for getting lost, and frustrated at her horse for abandoning her.

  As the sun made its final descent, Emilia thought she heard the sound of horse hooves. Gasping, she uncovered her face and leapt from the log. “Greymare?!” she cried out. “Greymare, is that you?!”

  “Miss Harcourt.”

  When she turned around and saw Arthur on his horse, she was simultaneously filled with relief and shame. Her journey had left her bedraggled, but at least she would be saved.

  Arthur dismounted his mare and hurried toward her. “What are you doing out here?!”

  “I... got lost.”

  “Why are you out here all alone?!”

  “I--”

  “Everyone's been worried about you! Your brother, my sister,” his scolding continued. “What possessed you to go riding by yourself?! You've been gone for hours!”

  “My apologies, Mr. Rochefort, I--”

  “It's too dangerous to go alone!”

  “I know!” Emilia lifted her gaze and glowered at him. After everything she had been through, she did not need any more of his brotherly tongue-lashings. “Believe me, it was not my intention to stay away as long as this! My horse abandoned me. I got lost!”

  When Arthur looked down at her muddied knees, his tone softened. “Are you hurt?”

  “I... tripped,” she confessed. “I am usually not quite so clumsy.”

  When Emilia started walking toward the horse, he noticed she was limping. “You are hurt, aren't you?”

  “I believe it is my feet, Mr. Rochefort,” she said. “They have been rubbed raw.”

  “I am sorry to hear that.” He fluidly mounted his horse and extended a hand toward her. “Come. Let us ride back.”

  “Together?!” she shrieked. “On the same horse?!”

  “Yes, on the same horse,” Arthur chuckled. “Unless you can make another horse miraculously appear, I'm afraid you have no other choice.”

  “I...” She could feel her cheeks turning a million different shades of crimson. “I don't know if I can do that. Riding on the same horse with you, it's... I cannot...”

  “Very well. If I makes you uncomfortable, I can walk alongside the horse and guide us back to Sanborne Hall.”

  When she saw him dismounting, Emilia yelped, “Wait!”

  Arthur paused, and his eyebrow was raised.

  “I will... ride with you,” Emilia capsized. “There's really no reason to raise a fuss about it. I don't mind.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “I am.”

  The next time he extended his hand, Emilia gently took it. During the few seconds they were holding hands, Emilia felt faint. And the fainting feeling did not subside when he pulled her onto the horse in front of him—and wrapped his arms around her. Emilia closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of his strong arms encircling her waist. It was as close as she had ever been to a man, and that closeness had rendered her breathless.

  “Thank you for coming, Arthur,” Emilia said, his given name rolling off her tongue. “I think I was seconds away from crying!”

  “I'm just glad I could find you. Everyone is looking for you.”

  “They are?” Emilia's embarrassment increased. “Have I disappointed them?”

  “No, Miss Harcourt. I think they will be happy to see you safe!”

  Several seconds of silence elapsed, during which Emilia's heart was racing. Since his arms were wrapped around her, she hoped he would not feel it hammering beneath her chest. She did not want him to know what an unsettling effect he had on her. Emilia was glad she could not see his face, because the sight of it would surely be the death of her.

  “Well, I'm glad it was me,” Arthur suddenly said.

  Against her better judgment, Emilia tried to steal a glimpse of him over her shoulder. When she caught sight of the curl on his forehead, she thought she might swoon. How was it possible for a man to look so adorable and so handsome at the same time? “Pardon?”

  “I'm the one who found you... and I'm glad.” He smiled at her, which brought her even closer to swooning. “I'm always happy to help a damsel in distress.”

  Chapter Six

  “I'm a terrible dancer.”

  As she led her fiance away from the dance floor, Willow had to bite her tongue. Edward's assessment of his dancing skills was accurate, but she couldn't bring herself to agree with him. He stepped on Willow's feet, plowed into a baronet, and tripped at least a few times. It wouldn't have been such a bad thing, except it was their engagement party, and all eyes were on them. There were only a few dozen in attendance, which meant there were only a few dancing couples at any given time. It wasn't as if they could blend into the crowd.

  “You are not... so awful,” Willow lied.

  “I am. I'm terrible.”

  “We'll work on it,” she tried to encourage him. “You just need a bit of polish.”

  “What I need is a miracle,” Edward corrected her.

  When they had safely removed themselves from the dance floor, Willow's eyes were drawn to Emilia. She was standing in a distant corner of the room, half-hidden behind a statue. It was as if she was trying to hide herself from view. “Edward? I'm concerned about your sister. Why is she not dancing... or speaking to anyone?”

  “That's entirely normal, I'm afraid. Social situations make her apprehensive. Should we keep her company?”

  “No... I have a better idea,” Willow said. Her eyes swiveled around the room in search of her brother. When she found Arthur, he was standing in an opposite corner of the room, conversing with a couple of older gentlemen. “Wait here, Edward. I will return shortly.”

  As Willow navigated her way across the room, she kept her brother in sight. She could almost predict what he would say, but she would not accept his refusal. If anything could be said about Willow, it was that she had a remarkable talent for getting what she wanted.

  When she approached, both of the older gentlemen smiled at her. She barely recognized them, but she knew they were Arthur's friends. If that was the case, they had probably been subjected to Willow's brazen behavior at some time or another. She wondered if that was the reason for their disdainful grins.


  “Arthur!”

  Willow's urgency stole his attention from his friends. “Willow? Is something wrong?”

  “Yes!” She slid a glance in the direction of the unfamiliar men, then seized her brother's arm. “Can we speak privately?”

  “Of course.” Arthur gave his companions a nod and allowed himself to be led away. “What is the matter, Willow? Has something made you upset?”

  “I'm perfectly alright. However...” She tried, discreetly, to motion toward Emilia. “I'm worried about Edward's sister.”

  “Emilia? Did something happen to her? Is she unwell?”

  “No... but I believe she might be lonely.” As she spoke, she moved her brother closer to Emilia's corner of the room. “She has not danced with anyone all night!”

  “And... why are you telling me this?” Arthur asked, even though he had an inkling. “Maybe she does not care to dance?”

  “Maybe someone needs to ask her to dance?” Willow suggested, her words blatantly lacking subtlety.

  “And that someone would be me, I take it? You know I don't dance.”

  “Please,” Willow entreated him. “Arthur, please. I think it would be good for her self-esteem.”

  Arthur shifted uncomfortably. He was torn between satisfying his sister and subjecting himself to an undesirable activity. Arthur could not remember the last time he had danced, and he preferred it that way. “I... don't know if I can bring myself to do it.”

  “Please, Arthur,” Willow persisted. “You care about Emilia, do you not? You would not want her to be lonely?”

  Arthur raked a hand through his hair, which left it a bit disheveled. “Very well. I'll ask her.”

  “Great!” Willow spun her brother around and gave him a push in Emilia's direction. “I knew you would not disappoint me!”

  When Arthur approached Emilia, she was hiding behind a statue of Aphrodite. She ran a finger along the cold marble and prayed the fete would be over soon. If not for the fact that it was her brother's engagement party, she would have avoided it altogether.