A Proper Companion (10 page)

"I'm not foxed, you puppy," the dowager snapped,
although she offered no resistance as Robert helped Emily bundle
her off to bed. Robert winked at Emily over the dowager's head as
she led the old woman up the stairs.

Emily quite surprised him by returning his wink.

After the ladies retired, Robert grabbed the brandy
decanter and headed for the library, where he planted himself in a
large leather wing-backed chair near the fire. He poured another
glass and began to ponder his impending marriage. Had he been too
hasty? Had he made a mistake in selecting such a young girl for his
bride? And how was he to cope with the burden of a young wife who
was completely dependent upon him? He had already discovered that
he could no longer blithely go about thinking only of himself. He
now had to give first consideration to the honor and respect due
his future countess.

After considerable liquid encouragement, he
convinced himself that he had made the right decision regarding
Augusta. He had, after all, offered for her knowing that she would
make few demands of him. He would harbor no regrets, despite the
increasingly unsettling presence of Miss Townsend—my God, she had
actually winked at him!—or the melancholy distress of his
grandmother. Since that first day in Bath, she had been silent
regarding his betrothal, seldom if ever mentioning it. Tonight,
half castaway on smuggled French brandy, she had been more open in
her disappointment. It humbled him to think of somehow failing this
woman who had always been so important to him. But the betrothal
was an unalterable fact, he thought as he poured another glass, and
so there was no sense in repining.

Several hours later Luckett quietly entered the
library in his stocking feet and found Robert sound asleep in his
chair in front of a long-dead fire. He gently shook his master
awake with an offer to help him to bed. Robert grunted
incoherently, flung a limp arm over Luckett's shoulder, and tried
to place one foot in front of the other. This proved to be too
wearisome a task, and so he decided to simply sleep where he was,
draped across Luckett's comfortable bulk. Luckett, not unfamiliar
with such a situation, lifted Robert like a sack of potatoes,
hoisted him over his shoulder, and trudged up the stairs with his
not inconsiderable burden.

* * *

The night before their departure from Bath, Emily
crawled exhausted into the cocoon of her featherbed, but found that
sleep eluded her. It had been a busy day of last-minute
preparations, but finally the last of the baggage was packed and
ready to be loaded onto carriages early the next morning. A few
minor crises in the kitchen had needed attention while Anatole
supervised the packing of almost his entire
batterie de
cuisine
, refusing to trust that the earl's cook would have the
proper equipment. Other minor crises involving linens and a missing
trunk had also been faced and finally resolved.

Emily smiled as she recalled the excitement created
when Lottie had been invited to travel to London to act as Emily's
maid. Emily had objected at first to the dowager's offer to assign
her a personal maid. The dowager, though, had been insistent that
the demands on Emily's time while in London would require that
someone assist with her wardrobe. Emily had finally capitulated and
had selected Lottie from the dowager's large staff.

Lottie was so overwrought with excitement that for
once she was speechless. She had grown up as the youngest of a
large cottage family in the Somerset countryside, and it had been
the thrill of her life to gain a position in the grand Laura Place
household in the vast and wonderful city of Bath. The thought of
London was almost too much to bear. When she finally found her
voice, she was more wound up than ever.

"Oh, miss," she said in breathless excitement. "I
can hardly believe it. Wait'll I tell me sisters that I'm goin' to
London. They're like to bust a gut!" She laughed nervously as she
fluttered around the room, ostensibly to assist Emily with her
final packing, but in fact adding to the general confusion. "I'm
ever so grateful to you, miss," she went on. "I just don't rightly
know how to thank you, proper like. You coulda picked anybody, but
I'm right proud that you picked me. I promise to do my very best. I
really do! Just send me packin' if I don't."

"I am certain you will do just fine, Lottie. I'm
very pleased that you will be accompanying me," Emily said,
refolding a night rail that Lottie had crumpled in her excitement.
When Lottie realized what she had done, she gently retrieved the
garment from Emily's hands.

"Please, miss, let me do that," she said. "I'm sorry
I was in such a state. But I know my duties, I do. Don't let nobody
tell you I don't. Sure, I never been a lady's maid afore, but it's
always been my dream, and I been watchin' real close at what Iris
and Miss Tuttle do for her ladyship. I'm gonna do for you at least
as good as them. Better even."

Emily was very touched by Lottie's concern and
enthusiasm. She made an effort to seek out Tuttle and ask her to do
what she could to help Lottie in her new role, particularly
regarding the care of Emily's fine new wardrobe. Tuttle found it
hard to refuse such a sweetly presented request, and even agreed to
begin to work with Lottie at once. That evening Emily had felt like
a lifeless mannequin as she allowed Tuttle and Lottie to dress her.
Lottie was an excellent pupil. Emily was pleased to discover that
the girl had a natural talent for hairdressing and was able to
exactly duplicate Turtle's intricate coiffures.

Emily burrowed deeper into her featherbed, chuckling
quietly as she contemplated the unexpected turns her life was
taking. Not only had she allowed the dowager to provide her with an
expensive new wardrobe as well as a personal maid, but she had even
agreed to let Tuttle to take scissors to her hair. Granted, she had
allowed no more than for Tuttle to give her softer, shorter
tendrils around her face, but the effect was one of dramatic change
from the ruthless knot she had worn for so long. Tuttle had wanted
to make more drastic changes, giving Emily a fashionable short
cropped style. But Emily had refused to part with her long, heavy
locks.

She still believed that all of these superficial
changes were no more than a silly feminine indulgence, but she also
experienced a strange new confidence, knowing that she looked well.
And she needed all the confidence she could manufacture, as her
mind was in a turmoil about what to expect in London. It was not
the normal social activities of a London Season that filled her
with anticipation, although that alone would have been sufficient
to set her head to spinning. Rather, it was thoughts of the
dowager's particular circle and their activities that provided
Emily with the greater thrill of excitement. She knew that the
dowager kept up a lively correspondence with many writers, artists,
poets, and politicians. In fact, it seemed to Emily that Lady
Bradleigh had at least a passing acquaintance with almost everyone
of note in English Society. She fully expected, and had received
hints of confirmation from the dowager and the earl, that she might
happen to meet many notables as they passed through the drawing
room of Bradleigh House.

At least her fine new feathers provided a certain
level of confidence to face whatever lay ahead, even if that did
include the matchmaking schemes of her employer. This thought
brought a troubled frown to her face. Heavens, how had she ever
allowed herself to be so thoroughly manipulated? She had no wish to
be paraded before the
ton
as an aging spinster with no
fortune, hanging out for a husband. But after all, she
had
promised Lord Bradleigh that he might introduce her to a few of his
friends. He had even pulled her aside for a brief private
conversation yesterday, after the dowager had left the breakfast
table.

"Miss Townsend," he had said as he led her by the
arm to a window seat overlooking the busy square below, "I wanted
to give you one final word of reassurance before we arrive in
London. Regarding Grandmother's matchmaking schemes, that is."

Emily had tensed. Dear God, would they never leave
her in peace?

"It is true," the earl continued, "that I agreed to
provide introductions to a few fine fellows, but I assure you I
will have no further involvement in the matter. And I will do my
best to steer Grandmother away if I see her meddling. Any further
developments," he said in that infuriatingly seductive tone he
sometimes used, "will be up to you and the gentleman."

Emily had felt the heat of a blush color her face.
He had spoken briefly on other topics which she could not now
remember. She had not, however, forgotten that as he rose to take
her leave, he had laid his hand over hers and gently squeezed it.
It had been a gesture of friendship and support; but it had
nevertheless left her momentarily discomposed.

Emily was very pleased to have made a friend of Lord
Bradleigh, though she had been quite unprepared for his kindness
and generosity. She knew that he recognized her anxiety over the
dowager's matchmaking, and she appreciated his reassurances.

She had never really had a man for a friend before
now. She was glad he was engaged to be married, for she doubted she
would have been so comfortable in his presence otherwise. He would
have probably flirted outrageously with her, and she would have
retreated into an embarrassed silence. She did, though, find
herself on occasion pondering what it might have been like to be
the object of the earl's flirtations.

But he was betrothed, and so now all she had to
worry about were those friends of his.

She pounded her pillow into a more comfortable shape
and crawled deeper into the billowy mattress. She was a goose to
worry so over nothing. The earl was right. She would politely
acknowledge any introductions and then simply fade into the
background, as always, unnoticed.

She finally drifted into sleep convinced that she
would acquit herself well enough and would not bring shame upon
herself or her employer.

Two days later the dowager's impressive entourage
pulled up in front of Bradleigh House in Grosvenor Square. The trip
from Bath had proceeded without incident, despite the size of the
traveling party. The earl had led the way in his curricle with his
tiger perched behind. He was followed by a large, elegant traveling
chaise with the Bradleigh crest emblazoned on the doors, housing
the dowager, Emily, and Tuttle. A second carriage held Iris,
Lottie, and George, a footman whose sole responsibility was the
care of Charlemagne. A third carriage brought Luckett, Anatole, and
Lucien. Yet a fourth carriage was overloaded with assorted trunks
and baggage. Several outriders had been engaged to protect the
travelers. Emily now understood the dowager's reluctance to leave
Bath, since this grand production appeared to be her normal mode of
travel.

The procession of vehicles had created such a
spectacle upon departure that it had been forced to move slowly
toward the outskirts of Bath. Scores of people, primarily children,
had lined the roads at every turn gazing at the elegant entourage.
Most assumed that such extravagance must be commanded by no less
than one of the royal dukes, and so there was much waving and
cheering as the carriages passed. Their slow pace had continued
until they had passed through Melksham, at which time the horses
were finally given their heads.

The journey had been carefully arranged by the earl
to ensure his grandmother's comfort. Stopovers at the White Hart in
Marlborough for luncheon and at the Crown in Reading for the night
had been meticulously planned in advance so that both inns were
well prepared for the weary travelers, with their best meals and
their best accommodations.

As Emily had never been to London, she was filled
with barely suppressed excitement as the carriages had made their
way toward the city. It can't be much farther, she thought, just as
one of the outriders pulled up alongside the window of their
carriage, signaling for them to draw the curtains. Emily turned to
the dowager and raised her brows in question, as Tuttle pulled shut
the heavy velvet hangings over the windows.

"Hampstead," the dowager said.

Emily felt her stomach knot with tension. Hampstead
Heath! Good heavens, she had forgotten that they would have to pass
along this notoriously dangerous stretch of road. Even in the
daytime the heavily wooded heath was dark and secluded, a perfect
setting for highwaymen. Some of the most infamous "gentlemen,"
including Dick Turpin and Tom King, had worked Hampstead Heath.
Surely the dowager's entourage, with its obvious stamp of wealth
and position, would be likely targets for such rogues. She braced
herself for the inevitable "Stand and deliver!" Her face must have
registered her distress, as the dowager reached over and patted her
hand.

"Don't worry, my girl," the dowager said. "We are
well protected by Robert and the outriders. Besides," she said,
grabbing her reticule, "I always come prepared."

Emily followed her glance and gave a start as she
saw a small pearl-handled pistol peeking out from the tiny
reticule. She looked up to find the dowager grinning and Tuttle
furiously scowling. The situation was so ludicrous that she could
not hold back her laughter. She felt her previous tension melt away
as she and the dowager fell against each other, giggling like
schoolgirls. For the next several miles, even after the outrider
had tapped on the window with an "all clear" signal, Emily and the
dowager took turns making up stories about intrepid women saving
the travelers from the clutches of vicious highwaymen.

When at last they reached London proper, Emily's
first impressions of crowded, noisy streets, foul-smelling smoky
air, and filthy tenements caused some apprehension. Once they had
skirted Hyde Park headed toward Mayfair, she began to relax a bit.
Even though there were many elegant residential squares and
crescents in Bath, Emily had not expected anything so grand as the
enormous houses they passed as they moved along Park Lane. The
dowager pointed out Holfernesse House near Hyde Park Corner, and
the imposing Grosvenor House at Grosvenor Street.