A Proper Companion (23 page)

With only those few dubious incidents behind her,
along with the less than admirable behavior of her male relations,
Emily's opinion of the male sex in general was often dispassionate
at best. Her current popularity was an entirely new and unfamiliar
experience for her. It was not, however, at all disagreeable.

She smoothed out the skirts of her white cambric
muslin dress, printed in a delicate floral pattern of pink and
yellow, and studied the effect of the spencer.

"Well, Lottie," she said, smiling in the mirror at
the young maid standing behind her, "I believe the braid you added
to the spencer is just what it needed. I am certain Madame Dubois
in Bath would not look amiss at the alteration."

"Oh, it weren't nothin', miss," Lottie said, smiling
shyly. "Just a idea I had."

"It was a fine idea, Lottie. Thank you," Emily said
as the maid handed her a charming chip straw cottage bonnet bought
on a recent shopping trip with Lady Lavenham. Emily tied the dark
pink satin ribbon in a perfect bow beneath her chin. Lottie eyed
her skeptically.

"What is it, Lottie?" Emily asked.

"Well, miss," Lottie said hesitantly as she surveyed
the bonnet, "if you will allow me, I think I can tie it in a way
that looks more... well, more the thing."

Emily nodded her consent, smiling at Lottie's
concentration— she chewed on her bottom lip—as she untied the
ribbon and retied it in a jaunty angle beneath one ear. Emily
studied her reflection and frowned. Surely such a style was much
too bold for someone in her position.

"Lottie," she said with some reluctance, not wanting
to offend the girl, "are you quite sure—"

"Oh, yes, miss," Lottie said with enthusiasm. "It's
much more dashing this way."

Emily smiled and wondered where Lottie had picked up
such a term.

"Now, miss, if you'll just let me arrange your hair
a bit..." The young maid began to tug forward the curling tendrils
around Emily's face, freeing them from the confines of the bonnet.
While Lottie worked, Emily's thoughts drifted back to the new
gentlemen in her life.

Her drive with Mr. Hamilton had been quite pleasant.
He was a very quiet, soft-spoken gentleman about the age of Lord
Bradleigh, or perhaps a bit older. Strands of gray peppered the
dark auburn hair at his temples, giving him a very distinguished
air. Sober-minded and restrained, he was not, however, of a shy or
retiring nature. He was quite at ease and was quick to make Emily
feel comfortable as well.

"I understand you were at university with Lord
Bradleigh," Emily had said as they headed toward the Park Lane
entrance to Hyde Park.

"Yes," he had replied, "Bradleigh and I have known
each other these many years."

"He mentioned that you and he shared an interest in
the classics."

"Did he? I'm surprised he mentioned it. He was an
excellent scholar, though I'm sure he would not like me saying so.
It goes against his ... er . .. reputation."

"I take it you disapprove of Lord Bradleigh?" Emily
asked.

"Good heavens, no! True, he has led a somewhat
ramshackle existence these last few years, but I have never known
anyone to face the world with such unrestrained joy. I admit I have
often been jealous of Bradleigh's zest for life. But then it has
never been in my nature to act in a frivolous or illogical manner.
I suppose I have always felt old whereas Bradleigh has been forever
young. I suspect he will settle down now that he is to be
married."

"No doubt," Emily said as she pondered this new
perspective on Robert.

Their conversation continued on impersonal and
varied topics. They nodded politely to acquaintances as they made
their way through the afternoon crowds. The even-tempered Mr.
Hamilton became most animated when Emily chanced to mention that
she had spent the afternoon reading Tacitus. Though his level of
knowledge was scholarly and thorough, his conversation was
completely fascinating. Emily was especially pleased to find that
he did not talk down to her simply because she was a woman, as many
men were wont to do. He seemed pleased enough to be able to discuss
his favorite subject with anyone. Emily was almost completely
unaware of the other drivers, strollers, and riders who crowded the
Park, so immersed was she in Mr. Hamilton's conversation.

She had been unashamedly pleased when Mr. Hamilton
had asked to see her again. She was scheduled to accompany him on a
visit to the British Museum next week.

Emily accepted the soft yellow kid gloves from
Lottie and slowly tugged them on as she considered the second
gentleman to take her driving this week.

Lord Sedgewick was about as different from Mr.
Hamilton as it was possible to be. In her brief acquaintance with
him she had already learned that he was almost incessantly
cheerful. As they had driven through the Park in his high-perch
phaeton, they had been unable to move more than a few feet without
being hailed by friends and acquaintances of Lord Sedgewick's. He
was obviously a very popular gentleman. He was open and friendly
with everyone from the most Friday-faced old dowager to the most
timid young miss. He had the pleasant habit of including some
personal reference in his conversation with each acquaintance. How
was Mrs. Cartwright's new granddaughter? Had Lady Fleckney tried
that herbal remedy he had recommended for her husband's rheumatism?
Did Miss Chillington enjoy the novel he had seen her purchase at
Hatchard's? What did Lady Rosalind Twyford think of last week's
performance of
La Nozze di Figaro
? Emily had been thoroughly
charmed. His conversation with Emily herself was witty and lively,
and at the end of their drive Emily found her face aching from
constantiy smiling.

"Thank you, my lord," Emily had said as they arrived
back at Grosvenor Square. "It has been a most enjoyable
afternoon."

"The pleasure has been all mine," he'd said as he
reached up to help her down from the phaeton.

Emily had felt a moment of awkwardness as she eyed
the ground below from her high perch. There was no way to simply
accept a proffered hand and step out. If she didn't accept Lord
Sedgewick's assistance, she would have to jump. There was nothing
for it but to place her hands on his shoulders while he grabbed her
by the waist and lifted her down. But the maneuver was handled so
gracefully and so quickly that there was no awkwardness at all.
Once firmly back on solid ground, Emily placed her hand on Lord
Sedgewick's arm as he led her to the entrance of the town house. He
turned to face her before sounding the knocker, taking the hand on
his arm and holding it for a bit longer than was absolutely
proper.

"I have enjoyed your company this day, Miss
Townsend," he'd said. "I hope I may be so bold to suggest that we
spend more such pleasant afternoons together."

"I would like that," Emily said, feeling as shy as a
schoolgirl.

"Shall I see you at Lady Lichfield's rout on
Saturday?"

"Yes, I believe Lady Bradleigh is planning to
attend."

"Then I shall look forward to seeing you there." He
had flashed his irresistible grin, which had no doubt broken the
heart of many a young miss.

Emily smiled, recalling that grin as Lottie handed
her a parasol of yellow shot silk with deep Chinese fringe.

"You look fine as five pence, miss," Lottie said as
she opened the door for Emily. "Lord Faversham is sure to be
impressed."

Emily's good mood evaporated at the words reminding
her of today's gentleman caller. Her third drive in one week was
bound to be the most unsettling. She was unable to forget Robert's
excessive concern over Lord Faversham and had followed his advice.
The dowager had eagerly agreed to accompany her. "Ha!" she had
exclaimed. "For once you must allow me to play the proper
companion."

Emily still felt somewhat confused about her cousin.
She hadn't quite made up her mind about him and hoped she could
remain objective, despite Robert's warnings. As she headed down the
stairs she met a footman on his way up to tell her that Lord
Faversham had arrived. She took a deep breath and continued on
down.

Her cousin was smiling up at her as she made her way
to the black-and-white-tiled entry hall, and he bowed over her hand
when she reached his side.

"Ah, Cousin," he said, "I should have known you
would be so prompt. And you look especially lovely. That's a very
fetching bonnet you're wearing."

He kept a smile planted firmly on his face, but his
eyes traveled the length of her person. Emily had the odd sensation
that he was not ogling her but studying every detail of her
costume. The thought crossed her mind that he might find her
dressed in much too fine a manner for one in her position, and she
felt a momentary stab of guilt that she had allowed the dowager to
lavish such gifts on her. Before she could give much consideration
to that notion, the dowager entered from the corridor leading
toward the library.

"Ah, Faversham," she said as she approached, peering
at him through her etched gold quizzing glass.

"Lady Bradleigh," he said, bowing over her
outstretched hand. "I see you are dressed to go out. May we drop
you somewhere on our way to the Park?"

"Actually," she drawled, "I intend to accompany you
to the Park."

"Oh?" His brows drew together, and his gaze shifted
toward Emily. "I admit I am astonished to find that you feel the
need for a chaperon, Cousin."

"Don't be such a nodcock, Faversham!" the dowager
exclaimed. "Of course Emily doesn't need a chaperon. I am simply
inviting myself along. If you must know, the friend I was scheduled
to drive with has canceled at the last minute. Since I am already
dressed, and anxious to be outdoors, I was sure you wouldn't object
to my accompanying you."

"I am sure Lord Faversham has no objections, do you,
my lord?" Emily asked.

"How could I possibly object to the pleasure of
escorting two such beautiful women?" he replied with a toothy
smile. "Mind you, I have brought my curricle, so we will be quite
... cozy."

"We are none of us so very large, Faversham," the
dowager said as she pulled on her gloves. "We shall do nicely in
your curricle."

It was clear to Emily that her cousin had determined
to make the best of a situation that had so obviously annoyed him
at first. He was as charming as he could be throughout their drive,
keeping the conversation light, taking care not to appear too
familiar. He was deferential to the dowager and polite to Emily.
Despite their cramped closeness on the seat of his curricle, Lord
Faversham was very careful not to touch Emily in any way that was
not absolutely necessary. She wondered how he might have behaved
had they been alone together.

They were stopped in the drive several times by
acquaintances of the dowager who seemed agog with curiosity to find
Lady Bradleigh and her companion in a small sporting vehicle with
the likes of Lord Faversham. Emily was momentarily abashed when the
dowager publicly acknowledged her relationship to Lord Faversham.
"You remember Miss Townsend," she had said. "And this, of course,
is her cousin. Lord Faversham." Emily was not unaware of the
quickly suppressed astonishment of each of the acquaintances to
whom the dowager had repeated the introduction. Lord Faversham's
behavior toward each of the dowager's friends was all that was
proper. At one point Emily noticed her employer's nod of approval
while her cousin spoke politely with an elderly couple and their
granddaughter. She suspected Lady Bradleigh might be revising her
opinion of him.

Although her own thoughts regarding her cousin were
for the most part generous, Emily was unable to ignore Robert's
impassioned warning completely. Though at the time his impertinence
had irritated her, she understood that he was sincere in his
concern. It was hard to push his words from her mind. She was not
yet ready to abandon all caution, and so kept a wary eye on Lord
Faversham.

* * *

Robert was unconscious of the noisy traffic,
lounging comfortably in his carriage as it made its way to
Cavendish Square. Both feet were propped against the opposite seat,
and his arms were stretched along the top of the velvet squab.
Luckett would surely succumb to apoplexy, thought Robert, if he
were to view such a pose and the effect it would have on his
meticulously pressed black evening coat.

Robert was on his way to escort Augusta and her
mother to Lady Kendall's musicale and then on to Lady Lichfield's
rout. He was not looking forward to the musicale, which was to
feature an Italian soprano whose high notes, in Robert's opinion,
were reminiscent of the screeching of a rusty gate. He would try to
steer the Windhurst ladies away early as the Lichfield rout was
bound to be more lively. Sedge would be there. And Jack. Lady
Lichfield always provided a card room, so there should at least be
some amusement.

Grandmother and Emily would be there as well.

Emily. Lately his thoughts were always somehow drawn
back to Emily. He knew that she had ridden with Faversham today,
but hadn't seen her since. She had promised to take Grandmother
along, and he hoped she had actually done so. He was still uneasy
about Faversham and his father. There was something not quite right
about the way they were singling out Emily with their varied
attentions. First Pentwick and his public assault, and then
Faversham with his contrite condescension. It simply did not make
any sense that they should give such obvious regard to a penniless
relation heretofore ignored by their family.

Considering Faversham's reputed state of affairs,
the only logical explanation had to involve money, or at least the
means to money. And Emily had none. Or at least, she assumed she
had none.

Robert had spent the afternoon with Huntspill, his
man of business, who had been gathering information at Robert's
request.