A Proper Companion (12 page)

"I get your meaning, my girl," the dowager snapped.
"You find Madame Cécile too old-fashioned for your taste. I suppose
this Bell woman caters to the younger crowd. Very well. Never
accuse me of standing in the way of progress, if you call simple
straight gowns and pantaloons progress. If you can vouch for this
woman, Louisa, we shall try her. But, my girl, how can you possibly
trust a modiste who is not even French?"

"It is true, Grandmama," Louisa replied, "that Mrs.
Bell is a native English artist, but we really should patronize our
own while we are at war with France, don't you think? Anyway," she
said turning to Emily, "you will love her, I know. Oh, this will be
such fun!"

The three women chatted for a few more minutes about
tomorrow's shopping expedition; or rather the other two woman
chatted while Emily politely listened, occasionally taking
surreptitious bites of seedcake. She was amused at Lady Lavenham's
energy and enthusiasm which caused her to chatter almost nonstop
without taking a breath. Her family was apparently quite used to
her vivacity and had developed a habit of direct interruption in
order to get a word in. Emily would require a better acquaintance
with the lady before she would feel comfortable with such tactics,
although she could see that it would eventually be necessary if
they were ever to have any sort of dialogue.

In spite of her loquacity, Emily found that she
quite liked Lady Lavenham. She obviously shared the same affection
for the dowager as her brother, although she was somewhat more
deferential and less teasing than Lord Bradleigh. She also had the
same rich brown hair and flashing brown eyes of her brother and was
equally handsome.

Emily's attention was snapped back as she realized
the dowager was addressing her. "Would you mind, my dear," the
dowager was saying, "hunting down Mrs. Claypool and telling her
that I will simply have a tray in my room later this evening. I
find I am still somewhat exhausted from our journey and would like
to have a quiet, early evening. By tomorrow we shall be caught up
in the full swing of the Season, and I wish to be completely
rejuvenated by then."

Emily rose to leave, with a fleeting regretful
glance at the tray of scones, and made her good-byes to Lady
Lavenham after agreeing to meet following breakfast the next day
for their shopping trip.

* * *

Once Emily had left the drawing room, the dowager
quickly launched into a monologue on Emily's situation before
Louisa was able to open her mouth. She recounted the story of
Emily's background and the plans for a little matchmaking while in
Town. She also explained that Robert had agreed to help by
introducing some of his friends to Emily.

Louisa was uncharacteristically quiet while she
listened with interest to her grandmother's plans. When she was
finally able to interrupt, she claimed to be more than happy to
fall in with the dowager's schemes, that she liked Emily very much,
and that she should have no trouble finding an appropriate
match.

"But, Grandmama," she said, "I am sure I heard David
mention that he had recently seen the current Earl of Pentwick and
his son Viscount Faversham here in Town. I remember it clearly, as
David made some very unflattering comments about the earl, whom he
cannot like. It was so unlike David, you know—he always finds
something good to say about everyone, he's such a darling— anyway I
could not help but remark upon his dislike for the earl. Well, the
point is, what if Miss Townsend were to run into her uncle or
cousin at some social function? Might it not be very awkward for
her?"

"Yes, I suppose we must tell her," the dowager said.
"It could be very unpleasant for her meeting up with her mother's
family without some warning. Perhaps she will never actually run
into them, but she must be prepared. We will tell her tomorrow."
She sighed and leaned back in her chair, absently stroking
Charlemagne. "Oh, dear. I hope this doesn't cause her to withdraw
even further into the background, as she is wont to do. I had such
hopes for her, especially with Robert's cooperation. He has been
marvelous help at drawing her out of her shell. If she can be
comfortable with such a rogue as Robert, then she should do well in
Society."

"You know, Grandmama," Louisa interrupted, "it
really is too bad that Rob did not meet Miss Townsend before his
betrothal. They seem especially well suited. And she is
so
beautiful. Why, it was plain as day that Rob couldn't take his eyes
off her. Oh, well. That is just his way, after all. I am sure Miss
Windhurst is even more lovely. And since we can no longer do
anything to match up Rob, the next best thing will be to enlist his
help in matching up Miss Townsend."

"Yes," the dowager drawled, "the next best
thing."

Early the following afternoon the entry hall of
Bradleigh House was busding with activity as Emily, the dowager,
and Lady Lavenham returned from their shopping expedition. Tuttle,
Iris, and Lottie competed for the attention of footmen to help
carry in the packages. Emily watched with some embarrassment as
most of the packages were directed to her room. Once again the
dowager had been lavish in her generosity, encouraged by the
effusive Lady Lavenham. Emily had found some consolation, however,
when she discovered that Lady Lavenham was more amenable to her own
preferences for simplicity, and was able to temper the dowager's
extravagant partialities. The enthusiasm with which Lady Lavenham
selected dresses for Emily in preparation for this ball or that
rout or Lady So-and-So's musicale left Emily with no doubt that her
employer had enlisted her granddaughter's aid in her matchmaking
campaign. Although she was still extremely uncomfortable with the
dowager's plans, Emily was also aware of the underlying kindness
motivating both ladies, and was therefore reluctant to offer any
further objections.

She had completely lost count of the number of
dresses ordered on her behalf.

Once the purchases had been appropriately
dispatched, the dowager and Emily retired to change their dresses
in preparation for afternoon tea with the Windhurst ladies. Lady
Lavenham returned in her carriage to her own town house a few
blocks away in Berkeley Square, with intentions to return to
Bradleigh House in time for tea.

A short time later Emily sat at her dressing table
in a fresh gown of teal muslin with narrow vertical stripes in pale
gold, while Lottie refreshed her coiffure. Her thoughts were no
longer on the embarrassment of riches bestowed upon her by the
dowager, but on a particularly disturbing conversation that had
taken place when the ladies had stopped for refreshments between
visits to the modiste and the milliner.

They had been discussing the rout they were to
attend that evening at Lady Bessborough's. The dowager was
enumerating those acquaintances of hers who could be expected to
attend. Emily had listened in fascination at the impressive list,
filled with anticipation at the thought of her first foray into
London Society.

"Of course, there are others," the dowager had said,
her drawl particularly pronounced on the last word, "that one
should also be prepared to meet. If not tonight, then surely some
other night."

Emily had caught what looked to be a significant
glance between the older woman and her granddaughter. What was
going on here? She groaned inwardly as an idea occurred to her.
Lady Lavenham had begun to speak but seemed to be
uncharacteristically tongue-tied.

"You see, Miss Townsend," she said, "it's just
that.. . well, we thought that... I mean, what I wanted to tell you
..." Her eyes had darted nervously to her grandmother.

Finally the dowager took over, placing her hand over
Lady Lavenham's in a signal for her to be quiet.

"Emily, my dear," she had said, "I hope you don't
mind, but I have told Louisa of your true background."

Oh, no, Emily thought. Here comes the matchmaking
pitch again. Would she never be able to escape the dowager's
manipulations? She steeled herself to hear of some gentleman of
Lady Lavenham's acquaintance who would be perfect for her.

"Louisa is family, after all," the dowager
continued. "She will keep your confidence, you may be sure. But the
thing is, my dear, we are afraid there may be some awkward times
ahead for you, and we think you should be prepared."

Awkward indeed. She had spent the last few weeks
preparing for the excruciating humiliation inherent in the
dowager's matchmaking plans. How clever of the old woman to have
finally accepted the awkwardness of the situation. Had Lady
Lavenham influenced her somehow?

"I am sorry to have to tell you, Emily," the dowager
said, "that your uncle, the Earl of Pentwick, and his son, Viscount
Faversham, are apparently in town for the Season." She paused, her
brown eyes boring into Emily's, apparently expecting some reaction.
"It is possible that you may never actually come face to face with
them, but then again, it pays to be prepared."

"My uncle?" Emily whispered in some confusion. Good
God, she had never even considered the possibility that her
mother's family might also be in London. There had been so many
other things to think about.

"I know that you have been estranged from the earl's
family all of your life, my dear," the dowager said, taking Emily's
hand. "I did not know how you would feel if by chance you were to
meet up with one of them at some function or other. Of course, they
don't run in the same circles as we do, but you never know whom you
are likely to meet during the Season."

Her uncle. Her mother's brother. Her grandfather
must be dead if her uncle was now the earl. She couldn't recall her
mother ever mentioning a brother. But then she had seldom spoken of
her family. Emily had learned most of the details of the
estrangement from her father. It had always puzzled her that her
father had shown more bitterness than her mother over the
separation. She was aware that her father had made several
overtures to the old earl but had been completely ignored. She also
knew that her father, who had been raised as a Roman Catholic, had
abandoned his faith, knowing it to have been a major cause of the
old earl's enmity. Although Emily doubted that her father had ever
been particularly devout, his rejection of his faith had
nevertheless been a significant gesture which had been rebuffed. In
fact, as far as she knew there had been no further contact
whatsoever between the families.

These renewed reflections on her mother's family
fueled a long dormant anger within Emily. Even as a young girl she
had been incredulous and infuriated that anyone as beautiful and
accomplished and compassionate as her dear mother could have been
rejected by her own family. As a child she had pictured the old
earl as a villainous ogre and had hated the very idea of him.

Now his son, her uncle, was in Town. It was possible
that they might actually meet. What would she do? How would she
react? Although she had been unaware that her mother even had a
brother, it was also certain that he had done nothing to end the
estrangement. He had not even acknowledged her mother's death. How
could she feel anything but contempt for such a family? She truly
had no wish to be associated with them in any way.

"I appreciate your concern, my lady," she said,
squeezing the dowager's hand, "but I would not worry about it. I
suspect that if Lord Pentwick and I were by some chance to meet, he
would simply ignore me. His family has ignored mine for
twenty-seven years, after all. And I certainly plan to ignore
him."

The dowager and Lady Lavenham had continued to press
the subject, convinced that Emily should be prepared to face the
cut direct or some other public scene. Emily assured them that she
felt confident that the situation would never arise, given her
position. She did not tell them that her determination to remain in
the background, as a small rebellion against the matchmaking
schemes, would also make it very unlikely that she would ever come
to the notice of the Earl of Pentwick. She was very touched,
nevertheless, at the pledge of both ladies to stand by her no
matter what happened.

Emily's attention was wrenched back to the present
at the sound of a furious pounding. Lottie cautiously opened the
door to find Lord Bradleigh standing before her. Visibly agitated,
he looked over the head of the openmouthed maid to find Emily.

* * *

The irritating situation that had caused Robert to
seek out Emily was almost completely forgotten as he took in the
sight of her at her dressing table. God, but she was beautiful.
Something about the intimacy of the setting caused his pulse to
race, despite her modest attire and the fact that her maid was
hovering nearby. What was wrong with him? He was on his way to pick
up Augusta to bring her to tea, and here he was ogling another
woman. He really must get a grip on himself, especially since Emily
was to be a guest in his home for the next few weeks or longer. He
must learn to cope with her presence with some level of composure.
Despite the exquisite torture of watching her at her dressing
table, imagining what she would look like as she prepared for bed,
in a thin dressing gown with her hair tumbling down her shoulders.
He shook his head and tried to concentrate on the business at
hand.

"Miss Townsend," he said, running a hand carelessly
through his hair, "I am sorry to disturb you, but I am quite
desperate." He made a move to enter the room, but Lottie held her
ground, blocking his entrance. Robert looked down to find her
glaring defiantly up at him through narrowed eyes. If there had
been any kind of heavy object at hand, he was sure she would be
waving it in his face. He gave Emily what he hoped was an imploring
look.