Shamefaced, she did not wait for assistance to dismount. She swung her leg over the saddle and dropped expertly to the ground. She patted Sultan's neck, after all it was not his fault she had made an exhibition of herself and outwardly calm she handed his reins to a waiting groom.
Without bothering to speak she turned and walked through the open gate, and head held high, the sun glinting on her russet hair, she stalked, apparently unconcerned, back to the house.
Once inside she flew up the stairs and ran along the passageways. It was far too late to worry about scandalizing the staff with such immodest behaviour. Her sitting room was mercifully empty; at least her sisters were not there to witness her humiliation. She found her maid in the box room that was now her own.
'Jenny, can you prepare me a hot bath. I shall not get dressed again. I'm going to retire. I have a severe megrim.'
Her abigail wisely refrained from commenting on the fact that her mistress smelled strongly of horse and her once clean dress was now liberally covered with chestnut hair. Nor did she remind Emily that it was her sister Amelia who normally suffered from sick headaches, not her.
Somewhat restored by her total immersion in warm water, Emily retired to her imposing, old-fashioned, four-poster bed, and firmly pulled the heavy damask curtains around her. She had always considered such beds as suitable only for elderly folk but that afternoon she was grateful she could hide in the privacy the drapes created.
In the pink gloom, little sunlight filtered through the heavy material, she sat and considered her position. She had been at Westerham scarcely a day and had already managed to offend just about everyone she had met. She had vomited in the bushes in front of Mr Foster, caused her
grandfather to lose his temper and offended her, extremely high in the instep, Cousin Sebastian, not once but twice.
It was a good thing she no longer had to persuade him to marry her. She would never forget the look of absolute disgust on his face as he leant casually against the paddock fence. It would be forever etched on her mind. She did not care that he held her in dislike for her opinion of him was equally dismal.
However the good opinion of both her mother and grandfather were quite a different matter. Her behaviour would have been considered unacceptable even for Millie. And as she was still legally under the control of the earl, he could administer whatever punishment he felt she deserved. If it had been Amelia at fault she supposed he could order a sound spanking, but she was reasonably sure she would be considered too old to receive such treatment.
Slowly her lips curled in a rueful smile. She was actually disciplining herself. After all she had put herself to bed at five o'clock in the afternoon without any supper, had she not? As her empty stomach grumbled alarmingly, she realized it was going to be a very long and uncomfortable time until breakfast.
Emily stretched out her aching limbs, for it had been so long since she had last ridden her body was protesting, and settled down. Her only recourse was to try and sleep the hours away. Unfortunately her dreams were not happy. She spent the entire night being pursued by irate persons of varying ages and sizes but all of them, without exception, possessed a pair of startlingly blue eyes.
* * * *
Sebastian watched Emily walk away and, in spite of his disgust at her total disregard for the acceptable proprieties, he felt a small measure of admiration at her courage. He pushed himself away from the fence and. ignoring the speculative stares of the staff, strolled off in the direction of
the house. He found himself grinning as he pictured his cousin riding his horse so superbly; he was forced to admit that he had never seen a better female rider and neither were there many men who could manage a spirited stallion like Sultan the way she had.
He had accepted her inappropriate challenge expecting her to renege, giving him the welcome opportunity to administer a sharp set-down. If he had thought for a moment that she actually intended to ride, astride, in her walking dress, he would never have agreed. Now she had disgraced herself in front of half the outside staff. A lady would never have exposed herself to such ridicule, even to prove a point.
He shuddered to think what the earl would say when he heard, as inevitably he would, about her exploits. And the wretched girl's poor mother, what of her? She was obviously unwell; would her daughter's unpardonable behaviour cause Lady Althea to suffer a relapse?
He stopped. It was as though someone had thrown an icy bucket of water over his head. How could he be castigating his cousin when the entire episode was entirely his fault? She could not have ridden if he had not only agreed, but actively given her the assistance she needed to mount.
He felt his face suffuse with unaccustomed shame. What had come over him? He was a diplomat, renowned for his level headedness and sharp intellect, but he had allowed himself to be drawn into an appalling escapade solely because his pride had been dented.
He swore, vilely, to himself, and lashed out at a nearby pedestal upon which a shiny marble cherub rested. The agonizing pain that shot up his foot was enough to bring him to his senses. It was his fault. He had somehow to make amends. He was a gentleman and he could not allow his cousin to be blamed for something that was his responsibility. For her to lose her good name would be intolerable, he could see that now. But how he was to save her from certain ruin he had not the slightest notion.
The earl explained to him his only course of action, in no uncertain terms. 'Good God, boy, this is a disaster! It is of your making, what were you thinking of? Word of Emily's exploits will be all over the county by morning. Your stupid behaviour has ruined the reputation of an unspoiled country miss. She did not know that what she proposed would destroy her. You certainly did.'
Sebastian almost hung his head. He had not felt so wretched since he was a schoolboy and been reprimanded for a childish prank. How was it possible that a dowdy, beanpole of a chit, had caused him to behave so badly when enraged Prussian generals had failed to move him?
'I accept full responsibility for the incident, sir. It should never have happened. I know that. It was inexcusable of me to allow my cousin to ride astride, in public, improperly dressed.'
His great-grandfather snorted. 'Are you trying to imply, sir, that if she had been wearing a habit and ridden in private that such a display would have been acceptable?'
'No, of course, I am not. I just meant…' he stopped, there was nothing to say. He was guilty as charged and ready to do whatever it took to put things right. If Sebastian had seen his grandfather's satisfied smile whilst he was staring morosely at his boots, he might have been more alert. Might have reacted more quickly, been able to extricate himself from the trap.
'And I have your word that you are prepared to do whatever it takes to remedy the situation?'
'Yes, sir, you have.'
'Very well; you have no alternative, you must offer for Emily. The only way her reputation can be salvaged is by becoming your fiancé. People will forgive what takes place between a betrothed couple, however outlandish it might be.'
Sebastian's head shot up, his eyes wide, his complexion white. He met the implacable stare and knew he had no choice. 'I agree, my lord. I will offer for her tomorrow.'
'Well done, my boy; you have made the right decision.' The Earl of Westerham left, chuckling happily, leaving the prospective bridegroom sitting, head in his hands, in total misery. It was not just Emily's life that had been ruined by his stupidity, he had also ruined his own.
Chapter Six
The late September sun poured through the window bathing the room in golden light. Emily didn't notice. She was preparing herself to brave the outside world, to face the inevitable sniggers and sneers from the hundreds of Westerham staff who knew, even better than its occupants, exactly how a lady should behave.
The mantle clock struck eight. Was it too early to venture down in search of sustenance? She hoped she would feel more confident when her hunger was satisfied, but she doubted it.
'Jenny, do you think there is a
ny food put out in the breakfast parlour?'
'Shall I go down and find out, miss? You don't want to have a wasted journey.'
Whist she waited for her maid's return Emily paced the room quite unaware what an attractive picture she presented. Her normally pale cheeks were prettily flushed, her eyes sparkled and the sun shone in her russet hair. But although the small waist and flowing skirt of her sage green dress flattered her, even to the most partial of viewers, she was over thin. The front of her bodice was little fuller than the back.
'They are putting out the chafing dishes now, miss. His lordship likes to break his fast early, I am told.'
'Thank you, Jenny. I will go down. I have to face him sometime, I suppose.'
A footman sprung to attention at her approach, barely hiding his smile. He opened the parlour door with an exaggerated flourish and showed her in.
* * * *
The room was not empty. Viscount Yardley was at that very moment piling his plate high with a mixture of sliced ham, coddled eggs and field mushrooms. He had had little sleep and his face was drawn and grey. When he heard the door open he looked up, his expression irritated. This instantly changed to absolute horror when he saw who had interrupted him. Was there to be no respite? Surely a condemned man could be allowed to eat his last meal in peace?
* * * *
Emily saw his expression and instantly her hackles rose. In her long, mostly sleepless, night she had come to the same conclusion as her grandfather. She would not be in this mess if it was not for the man staring so rudely at her. She was tempted to retreat and leave him to eat his meal in peace but she was famished and, however disagreeable her cousin, she was not going to leave the room without filling her empty stomach.
Sebastian nodded, his brimming plate still in his hand, and Emily nodded back. She knew the correct etiquette was for a lady to be seated and the gentleman to wait on her. Should she sit or help herself? Her stomach gurgled alarmingly and made the decision for her.
The plates were still warm and the food smelt appetizing. Ladies didn't pile their plates but Emily didn't care; she had been half starved for the last two years and now her body craved nourishment. Ignoring her cousin she put a random selection of hot food on her plate and took it to the far end of the long dining table. Then she returned for several slices of hot toast and a large pat of freshly churned butter.
She heard what sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter, quickly repressed, and glanced up. Sebastian was having difficulty containing his mirth.
'Is there anything else I can get you Cousin Emily? You appear to have missed out on the cold cuts and muffins.'
Emily tried to swallow her retort but it burst out of its own volition. 'If you had spent the past two years living on as little as I have you would also wish to fill your plate.'
This unexpected answer caused him to swear. 'Dammit, Emily, are you telling me your situation has been so dire that there was not enough food on your table?'
'Yes, that is exactly what I am telling you, sir. What little there was went to my sisters and mother first, I made do with what was left.'
He shook his head; for a moment unable to think of something appropriate to say. 'I am sorry to hear that, my dear. It is almost unbelievable that your family has been in such poor circumstances when your grandfather could have provided you with everything you needed.'
Emily dived into her breakfast too hungry to answer. Only when the plate was half empty did she pause and look up. She found, to her astonishment, that instead of seeing a pair of critical blue eyes staring back at her she was on her own. Viscount Yardley had vanished. She had been so engrossed in her excellent repast, she had not heard him depart. His breakfast remained, untouched, on the buffet.
She sighed, exasperated that her Cousin Sebastian was so finicky he could not bear to see a lady eat as heartily as she did. For the second time in twenty-four hours she congratulated herself on a lucky escape; being married to such a stickler would be tedious in the extreme.
* * * *
Sebastian watched his young cousin devouring her food and instead of being revolted he was angry, furiously angry. Now he knew that her pallor and extreme thinness was caused by semi-starvation, he could see that within a few weeks Emily would be a lovely young woman. In fact she would be a diamond of the first water.
His march through the house had taken him to the earl's apartments. The footman knocked at the door and announced him.
'Good heavens, my boy, this is an early visit. What has brought you here in such a pucker?'
Sebastian gestured impatiently for the footman to leave them before he spoke. His voice was controlled but his fury quite apparent.
'How can you accuse me of ruining Emily's life, sir, when you have allowed the poor girl to slowly starve these past two years? It is unpardonable. If you were a younger man I would call you out.'
The Earl recoiled and grasped a chair-back for support. He appeared to crumble and suddenly he was no longer a wealthy, powerful aristocrat but a vulnerable old man. Sebastian realized, too late, he had allowed his anger at Emily's treatment to overcome his common sense. What sort of diplomat was he? Why he was behaving like a veritable greenhorn he had no idea. A stripling straight from school would have better manners.
Instantly remorseful his anger evaporated. 'I am sorry, grandfather; I did not mean to distress you.' He came forward and helped the old man to a chair, waiting until he was seated and comfortable before he spoke again. 'Emily's half starved; how could you have allowed this to happen?' His enquiry was mild this time.
The old man shrugged. 'I did not know how bad things were. I know that is no excuse but I intend to make amends for it now. Those girls will want for nothing, I promise you. I want to give Emily a season, if that is what she would like.'
Sebastian could sense a reprieve. If Emily went to London, it was possible she would meet someone more to her liking. She had made it patently obvious that she held him in little regard.
'That sounds like an excellent idea, sir'
'I am glad you approve, my boy.' He had now recovered his composure and was once more in control. 'As your fiancé she will have entrée to all the best homes. A young lady needs to see the world a little before settling down.'
'I have not asked her yet, Grandfather. Have you considered the very real possibility that she will refuse me? We do not suit you know.'
'Stuff and nonsense! Emily will do as she is bid, once things have been explained to her.' He paused, lost in thought. 'I will speak to her after I have broken my fast. Then you will make her an offer. I expect you to appear at eleven o'clock sharp, in the library, is that understood?'
'Yes, sir. I shall be there.' He had no option, he had given his word and he was now obliged to ask a most unsuitable girl to be his wife. He shuddered as he considered the mayhem she could cause in the refined world of international diplomacy. But he had promised. He was obliged to marry her unless she could be persuaded to cry off. His mobile mouth slowly curled at the corners. What if he made himself so objectionable Emily decided that his wealth and title would not compensate her for being shackled to him. Sebastian bowed.
'If you will excuse me, sir, I will speak to you later, when all is settled between my cousin and I.'
'See that you do.'
* * * *
Emily swallowed the last two morsels of ham and placed her cutlery on her plate. She pushed back her chair and looked longingly at the remaining food still spread out on the sideboard. Did she have room, perhaps, for a hot muffin with bramble jelly?
The door opened and her grandfather was bowed in. Immediately she curtsied, dropping her eyes politely.
'Good morning, sir.'
'Good morning, my dear Emily. Please do not rush off; you can keep me company. Will you take a dish of tea whilst I break my fast?'
Emily straightened, her eyes widening. Whatever she had been expecting it is not such a convivial greeting. 'I would love to, thank you,' she added with a smil
e, 'I can highly recommend the ham and coddled eggs and the muffins look delicious also.'
He chuckled, his faded blue eyes almost disappearing in the creases. 'You may serve me, child, with whatever you enjoyed yourself. I have a devil of a job deciding.'
The footman retreated once the earl was safely seated. Happily Emily selected a variety of tempting items, but did not overfill the plate. She felt sure that an elderly gentleman would not wish to consume the same amount of food she had managed. He appeared satisfied with her choices and commenced his meal whilst she fetched him a mug of porter and poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup for herself.
She could delay no more; she would have to take the chair beside him. He allowed her to settle before he spoke. 'What were you thinking of child? Your display yesterday is the talk of Westerham and by this evening will be the topic of conversation in every house in the neighbourhood.' Emily had expected him to rant and rave and this quiet enquiry made her blush with shame.
'I am sorry, my lord. I was provoked. I know that is no excuse, but it could not have happened without Viscount Yardley's assistance. He is more culpable than me. It is to him you should apportion blame. I thought he was a diplomat. Is he not supposed to know how to behave in all circumstances?'
'Exactly, my dear girl. Yardley accepts the fault was his, even if the actions were yours. He is ready to take the necessary steps to save your reputation.'
'I do not understand. How can he do anything? It's too late, the damage is done.' Emily choked back a sob. 'Mama will be destroyed by this. She had such high hopes for me, and I shall never be received in society now, shall I?'
'You will, if you except Yardley's offer.'
'His offer…' she stammered. 'Are you saying I must marry him in order to put things right?' She gazed at her grandfather; her eyes widened and the colour left her face. 'Surely not? There has to be another way. I have no more wish to marry Viscount Yardley then he has to marry me.'
A Country Mouse Page 5
