A Rogue for Emily

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A Rogue for Emily Page 11

by Catherine Hemmerling


  “I am dreadfully aware of all the things I must be; I am just not sure I am capable of being so,” Sarah said, shaking her head.

  “Well I, for one, think you are.”

  “That is why you are a princess among the paupers, Emily Moss. A princess!” Sarah pronounced grandly.

  Emily and Rose giggled at Sarah’s antics.

  Linking arms with her friends, Emily said, “I am so glad you are here. We have much to talk about.”

  “We do?” Rose and Sarah asked in unison.

  “Oh yes,” Emily replied mysteriously, “but let us shop first. My news can wait until tea.”

  …

  Hours later the girls, laden down with packages, found themselves at the Twinings tea room on the Strand. Emily had sent Harriet home with the first batch of gifts, but she and her friends had amassed many, many more.

  “I sure hope Hannah is having twins,” Rose said, “Otherwise I think we may have bought a tad too many things.”

  “A tad?” Sarah repeated. “This baby now has more clothes than I do.”

  Emily giggled. “I think it may have more than me, as well.”

  Rose straightened in her chair. “We had no choice, ladies. We don’t know if she is having a boy or a girl. Prudence dictates we be prepared for both.”

  “Oh, we are prepared then. Very, very prepared.”

  “Emily is right,” Sarah replied. “I believe it could be argued we are prepared for her next four children and then some.”

  Rose sighed. “I suppose we did go a bit overboard, but it’s Hannah.”

  “Yes, it is,” Emily said unabashedly. She raised her teacup and motioned to Rose and Sarah to do the same. “To Hannah!”

  The three ladies clicked their cups and took a sip.

  When Emily had finished swallowing, she took a deep breath and said, “Alexander Bredon kissed me last evening.”

  Tea shot out of Sarah’s mouth and misted Rose—who had the misfortune of sitting across from her—and most of their table with the amber liquid.

  Sarah brought a napkin to her lips and blotted daintily.

  She looked almost serene when she said, “Emily, dear. Could you please wait until one has swallowed before saying such things?”

  Emily couldn’t help but laugh. “I am so sorry. I have been holding that in all day, and I just couldn’t wait another moment.”

  Sarah reached over to wipe tea off Rose’s glasses. She was still frozen in shock, apparently, but Emily wasn’t sure if it was from her news or the fact that she had just been spit upon. She supposed it was probably both.

  “Rose, are you quite well?”

  Rose blinked her big eyes as she lifted her own napkin and began wiping herself down.

  “You were saying Alex kissed you…yesterday?” Rose said finally. “I believe I would like to hear more about that. But first…”

  Rose reached over, took Sarah’s cup of tea, and moved it out of her reach.

  Sarah nodded sagely. “That is probably a wise idea, my friend.”

  Rose gave Sarah a withering look as she said, “Please go on, Emily.”

  Emily stifled another smile before proceeding to tell her friends all that had happened after Alexander barged into her house two days ago. When she had finished, she could have heard a pin drop. Both Sarah and Rose were looking at her with identical expressions of shock.

  Sarah’s mouth started moving, but no sound came out. She looked like a fish out of water gasping for air. Rose was the first to actually make a sound.

  “I, um…well, goodness…er, wow.”

  “Yes, that pretty much sums it up,” Emily agreed dryly. At this point she was questioning the wisdom of telling her friends anything.

  “I’m sorry, Emily,” Rose said, with more coherency this time. “I am just so surprised. Not that Alexander kissed you…only in the way he finally did so.”

  Now it was Emily’s turn to look shocked. “You are not surprised he kissed me?”

  “Why, no!” Rose said, laughing. “Simon and I have always thought that he was half in love with you.”

  “Alexander Bredon?”

  “Yes. Why not he?”

  “Because he and Emily annoy the stuffing out of each other?” Sarah replied before Emily could say pretty much the same thing.

  “Look who has finally joined us,” Rose teased.

  “Admittedly, it took me a moment to fully comprehend the news, but now that I have, I agree with Emily. His kissing her is completely out of character.”

  “Exactly,” Emily remarked.

  Rose shook her head. “I don’t know. I have always thought Alexander’s antics were those of a young boy trying to get the attention of the pretty girl. In whichever way possible.”

  “He is not a young boy,” Emily said stiffly. “He is a grown man, and I think you are reading too much into his behavior. The truth is, we don’t like each other. We have nothing in common and whenever we do speak, we end up in an argument. It has been this way for years. That is not a situation that leads to kissing.”

  “And yet it did,” Rose said, folding her napkin carefully before looking up at Emily with knowing eyes.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Rose. I have no idea why he did what he did.”

  “Do you think it was just another one of his jokes?” Sarah asked.

  “I suppose,” Emily replied halfheartedly, “but his reaction to kissing me seemed sincere. No, I don’t think it was planned in any way.”

  “Did you like it?”

  Emily looked at Rose.

  “Good Lord, no,” she said indignantly.

  “Really?”

  This time the question came from Sarah. Emily tried to keep her act up, but in the end she just wilted in her chair.

  “All right, maybe. A little.” She sat up a bit straighter. “But only as a curiosity! I have never been kissed before, after all.”

  Rose and Sarah exchanged glances. And what those glances said was enough for Emily to stand and throw her napkin on the table.

  “I think we should be going now, don’t you? I’m sure the carriage I asked Harriet to send is waiting for us. We have lots of gifts to wrap, now don’t we?”

  She didn’t wait for a response from her friends. Instead she gathered up her packages and made her way out of the building. A carriage was indeed waiting for them, and soon they were all aboard and heading back to Mayfair.

  Sarah and Rose had taken the none-too-subtle hint and spent the trip discussing anything other than Alexander Bredon.

  Once Emily had been dropped off, she walked slowly up to her house. She was always happy to spend time with her friends, and they had bought many lovely things for Hannah and her baby, but ultimately the day had left Emily more confused than less. And that had not been the point, at all.

  Was it true that Alexander may have been harboring feelings for her all this time? And what of her reaction? Did she have hidden depths for him? No, it couldn’t be true. How could she care for the one man who could make her angrier than any she had ever known?

  She needed to figure this out. She did not like being befuddled over anything.

  She would write down her thoughts. That always made her feel better. Her writer-friend would know what to do. Maybe he had agreed that the two of them should meet. It could only help to have that mystery cleared up once and for all.

  She had one too many unknowns in her life for her liking. Too many unknowns, indeed.

  Chapter Eleven

  A hero in one story may be a villain in another. It is all about perspective.

  ~The Duke of Lancaster

  It had been a couple of days since Emily had come home in turmoil after her day of shopping and since she had left her response in the cemetery. She was easily as anxious as she had ever been awaiting the response, and the last place she wanted to be was here, at the Manley musicale.

  This gathering had turned into an annual event to which she usually looked forward, but tonight she was just not in
the mood. Luckily, Hope had accompanied her and by staying seemingly engaged with her, most of the interested gentlemen had kept their regards to nods from across the room.

  This was typically a wonderful place to chat with potential suitors, listen to some pleasant music, and eat lovely tidbits of food, but tonight all the activity was just more than Emily could handle. She had half a mind to leave early, but she didn’t want to hurt Lady Manley’s feelings.

  “Oh look,” Hope said, drawing Emily’s attention back to her. “Hannah and William are here.”

  Emily looked over toward the entrance to the room and saw Hannah and William standing there exchanging greetings with Lord and Lady Manley. Behind them stood Alexander.

  “No,” Emily moaned. “Not tonight.”

  “What’s the matter?” Hope asked, concern written all over her face. “Have you had a falling out with Hannah?”

  Sighing, Emily said, “Not with Hannah, no.”

  It was then that Hope apparently spotted Alex. “I see. Well, no matter. We do not have to say anything to him. We can stay right here, very happily.”

  “It would be rude not to speak to Hannah and William.”

  Hope shook her head. “I am quite sure they will understand.”

  Emily looked at Hope with eyebrow raised. “So she knows, hmm?”

  “That you and Alexander…um…yes. She knows.”

  “Of course she does,” Emily muttered.

  What am I going to do? Emily thought. She couldn’t ignore the problem forever, but neither could she come up with a way to defuse the situation easily and kindly.

  What she wanted to do was go up to that presumptuous man and slap him, as she should have done the moment he kissed her. But that time had passed. Now all she could do was stand in the corner, avoiding one of her best friends, because she had no idea what else to do.

  What was the etiquette in this case?

  She decided that for now, Hope was right. She would stay as far away from him as she could tonight and hope that a solution presented itself in the near future.

  Unfortunately, staying away physically was much easier than simply ignoring his presence. Every few seconds, Emily would find her gaze drawn to Alex. He had not arrived alone to the party. It would have been easy to remain angry with him if he had been accompanied by a woman, but his companion was a young boy of about ten or eleven, sandy-haired and possessing a truly engaging smile. It melted her heart to see him so excited to be there.

  “Do you know who the boy with Alexander is?” Emily asked Hope.

  Hope looked over at the young man. “Yes, that is the Edward boy. Alastair, I believe his name is. The Edwards have been the neighbors of the Bredons since William and Alex were boys.”

  “He and Alex seem quite close.”

  “Yes, they do,” Hope agreed, before changing the subject back to some stock or another she was interested in. Hope had an unusual affinity for and knack with the stock market. Just earlier that year, she and her now husband had helped solve a hoax perpetrated on the Exchange.

  And while not the most captivating topic to begin with, Emily could hardly listen for being drawn in by Alexander and Alastair. There was something different about the boy, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. Regardless, the two of them seemed to be having a grand time together, and Emily couldn’t seem to look away. It annoyed her to no end, however. Focusing on the very man she was trying to forget was not the way she intended to spend her evening.

  She especially didn’t like the way her heart fluttered when she saw how sweetly Alex interacted with Alastair. She had never seen this side of him before. Indeed, she didn’t even think he even had such nature within him.

  Oh, this will not do, she thought wildly. She must stop thinking about the man. Better to think about her mystery writer. Now that was someone worth being preoccupied over. But, no. That man wasn’t there…or if he was, she had no way of knowing.

  Perhaps it was time to take advantage of her standing in society. As a distraction, if nothing else.

  With the bat of an eye, Emily drew five young eager men to her side, all clamoring to impress her. If that didn’t take her mind off Alexander Bredon, nothing would.

  …

  Alexander leaned over and straightened Alastair’s tie. “There you are, my good man. Must keep a tight line now.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Alastair said with a jaunty smile.

  “Are you having a good time?”

  “Oh, yes,” the boy replied with shining eyes. He grabbed Alexander’s hand and looked up at him adoringly.

  Alex’s chest swelled just a bit. Alastair was a special boy, and he felt lucky to be considered one of his trusted favorites.

  When Alastair was born, just ten short years ago, his parents had been thrilled. They had wanted children for so long but had given up on the dream as they continued to age and no child was born to them. Instead, their house had become a haven for Alexander. When he and William had had another fight, he would run to the Edward house. There he would find all the love and attention he craved.

  As he grew older, he would still find excuses to drop in to check on them. When he learned they were expected a baby, he was nearly as excited as they were. And when he held Alastair for the first time, he had felt an instant connection with the boy.

  It didn’t take long for everyone to realize that there was something extra special about Alastair. He didn’t do things the same way as the other kids his age. As a baby, he would coo and babble a little, but his actual speech was delayed much longer than most. He also seemed disinterested in playing with others, preferring instead to spend time on his own. He was affectionate in his own way, but prone to emotional outbursts, especially if his routine was disturbed in some way.

  But he was also a genius at taking things apart and putting them back together. He could solve puzzles that grown men had long since given up trying to answer. And he simply loved music. When he heard something he liked, which was pretty much everything, he would close his eyes and sway as if being transported to another time and place.

  The doctors had recommended the Edwards put young Alastair in an asylum, indicating that his form of “mental impairment” was not likely to get better. Lord and Lady Edward refused. They had waited a long time for their miracle, and they did not intend to miss a moment of his life. Not once had they ever regretted their decision. One only had to watch Alastair for a moment to see the beauty in him.

  “Look, Alexander,” Alastair said, pointing off to the right. “Isn’t she the most beautiful woman you have ever seen?”

  Alex looked dutifully in the direction indicated and was dismayed to see that the woman his young friend was pointing out was none other than Emily Moss. With his attention solely on Alastair, he failed to register the telltale electricity that indicated her very presence. Now he felt it full force.

  He had worked very hard to put that woman out of his mind. He still could not believe his actions the other day. He had considered sending a note or flowers to apologize, but he wasn’t all that sorry. He hadn’t been able to go more than a minute without remembering the kiss. It so affected him that he had decided to forego getting the girl to like him. He thought he would much rather she love him. The more he thought about it the more he became convinced she was the woman for him. But as of yet, he had not come up with a plan sufficient to the task.

  “Isn’t she?” Alastair said again, pulling on Alex’s hand insistently.

  “Isn’t she what?” Alexander replied. “Oh, beautiful. Yes, she really is.”

  And she was. There was not a man in all of Christendom who could argue that point; but oh, how her beauty mocked him. She was, even now, surrounded by a flock of men. Holding court as if she were the princess of the ball. And he was standing there like an idiot, entertaining a boy. How could she not see him as a boy, too?

  “Not again, damn it.”

  “Are you mad at me, Alexander?”

  Alex looke
d down at Alastair. The boy’s face was so small, and his eyes were so sad.

  Blast it all, man, get yourself together, Alex silently berated himself. He knew as well as anyone that Alastair didn’t always follow verbal and physical cues very well. If he heard an angry word, he very likely would think it was directed at him.

  Crouching down to the boy’s eye level, Alex said in no uncertain terms, “Absolutely not, Alastair. I am not mad at anyone. I spoke out of turn, old man. I’m very sorry.”

  Alastair’s grin told him that all was forgiven, and Alex breathed a sigh of relief. He would not let his feelings for Emily ruin the lad’s night. Not if he could help it.

  On the other hand…

  “Alastair, are you thirsty?”

  The boy nodded vigorously, so he and Alex headed over to the refreshments table; coincidentally or not, just a few feet away from Emily and her gaggle of sycophants.

  …

  “Oh, Albert,” Emily cooed. “You do say the most awful things.”

  Albert lifted her hand for a wetter-than-she-would-like kiss. “How can I resist? You are so lovely when you blush, my dear.”

  Little did he know the color in her cheeks could not be attributed to him or any other of the gentlemen surrounding her. To be honest, it was her own behavior making her ill. This was not how she usually handled herself. She was behaving like Lavinia, for goodness sake. Even Hope could no longer stay by her side. She had gone to get them some lemonade what felt like hours ago. And even worse, none of these over-perfumed men were doing anything to take her mind off her woes.

  Yes, she could no longer see Alexander, but she could feel him somewhere nearby. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

  “You are too kind,” she said breathlessly, trying to think of a way to remove herself eloquently from the position in which she had put herself.

  Apparently feeling that he was making more progress with Emily than he was, Albert took it upon himself to say to the crowd of suitors, “Gentlemen, I believe the lady is overwhelmed by all the attention. Perhaps you should leave her to my care. I am a doctor, after all.”

  His obsequious smile made Emily even more nauseated. Doctor indeed. He was barely more qualified than a leech. But his words had the desired effect. In mere seconds, he was the only man left…and he was looking at her in a way that made her remarkably uncomfortable.

 

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