A Proper Companion (6 page)

Later that morning, during a rare moment of quiet,
Emily found herself marveling at the good fortune that had brought
her into the dowager's employ. As she sat in the window seat in her
bedroom, a slim volume of poetry propped open on her lap, she gazed
out the window as she pondered all that had happened during the
last few days. Emily was secretly as excited and as nervous as a
schoolgirl about the impending trip to London. She had never been
to the capital, although she remembered clearly all her mother's
stories about her own Season in Town. Her father had frequently
absented himself in Town for weeks, but never spoke about whatever
business took him there. In fact, before her employment had brought
her to Bath, Emily's only taste of Town life was an occasional
shopping trip to Bury St. Edmonds. And so she looked upon the
prospect of a visit to London as something of an adventure into the
Unknown. Although Bath was far from a rural backwater, she knew it
to be a sleepy village as compared to London. The dowager warned
her to expect to participate in the full social whirl of the
Season's activities. This thought sparked a frisson of
apprehension.

Emily thrust aside this wayward fear as childish and
unwarranted. She was, after all, a paid companion who would likely
melt unnoticed into the background. She knew Lady Bradleigh well
enough to know that she would not force Emily into any awkward
social situation. Emily's mood lightened as she thought of her
eccentric and gregarious employer. The dowager was more than kind
to her. She treated her rather like a member of the family than a
paid employee. Emily had developed a great affection for the older
woman.

Lord Bradleigh had also shown her uncommon civility,
and was not in the least as top-lofty as she had expected. In fact,
he had shown her nothing but apparently unprejudiced courtesy and
friendliness, and Emily found that she couldn't help but like him,
regardless of his reputation.

Emily, however, was not unaware that the earl had
more than once gazed at her when he thought she wasn't looking. At
one time she had in fact caught a rather smoldering look in his eye
when she happened to catch his glance. These few uncomfortable
moments had served to remind Emily of his amorous reputation,
sending off warning bells of caution. She resolved to keep up her
guard with the earl, realizing that he was well practiced in
charming women with more worldly experience than she could ever
hope to possess. How much easier to charm an inexperienced, naive
spinster who had never met such an attractive, charming man in her
life.

Emily thrust aside this second wayward fear, feeling
decidedly foolish for even thinking of Lord Bradleigh in such a
way, and returned to her poetry.

* * *

Earlier that same morning, Robert had come down to
breakfast to find the dowager alone perusing her correspondence
while she sipped a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, my love," he said as he bent down to
kiss her cheek. He walked to the sideboard and began to load his
plate with rare beefsteak, broiled tomatoes, fried eggs, and
kippers. "And where is the remarkable Miss Townsend this morning?
Do not tell me she is a slugabed!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Robert." The dowager glared at
him over the top of tiny gold spectacles perched on the end of her
long, aristocratic nose. "You must know that she has been up and
about for hours, working with Mrs. Dougherty to organize the move
to London. She is a treasure, my Emily. I really do not know how I
ever got along without her. She is a lovely girl, don't you
think?"

Robert dismissed the attendant footman with a flick
of a finger. "Yes, I rather like her," he replied as he took a seat
across from the dowager. "But hardly a girl, I think."

"You are quite right, my dear. She is, I believe,
six and twenty years old. I have grown quite fond of her, you know.
She is such a comfort to me in my old age," the dowager said as she
cast a furtive glance at Robert over the top of the parchment she
was reading.

"Oh, fustian!" Robert laughed, catching her glance.
"You have always told me that you are only as old as you feel. And
since when did you need 'comforting'? You're the most self-reliant
old termagant I have ever known. So, my love, what is the true
story of Miss Townsend? Since I have never known you to need a
companion, I suspect there is more to this situation than meets the
eye. Come now, why did you really hire her?"

"Because I like her and truly enjoy her company,"
his grandmother replied as she put down the parchment and removed
her spectacles, a sure sign that she was ready for a serious
discussion. "She is quite intelligent and provides excellent
conversation, as you must have observed last evening. You know how
I detest insipid, empty-headed females."

"And ..." Robert prompted.

"Because I needed someone to help with my
correspondence, invitations, and the like." She gave an expansive
gesture encompassing the stack of correspondence before her. "Emily
has a beautiful hand, you know."

"And.. ."

"All right." She sighed, sinking back into her
chair. "If you must know, she rather intrigued me, and, I admit, I
felt a bit sorry for her." She slanted a hesitant look at Robert,
who narrowed his brows skeptically. "She had worked for Catherine
Fitzhugh, as you know. Dear Catherine was privy to Emily's
unfortunate history and had recounted the sad tale to me."

"Good heavens! You're not about to tell me that she
really is a royal by-blow?" Robert said, his speared beefsteak
suspended halfway to his mouth.

The dowager's chin dropped. "I beg your pardon?" she
said, her voice cracking slightly as she stared at her grandson in
slack- jawed astonishment.

"Yes, well, I thought that story was probably a bit
wide of the mark," Robert said, returning his attention to his
beefsteak. "Luckett tells me your staff is abuzz with speculations
as to Miss Townsend's background."

"Good God," the dowager said as she settled back in
her chair. "And they think she has royal blood?" She glared
openmouthed at Robert for a moment and then burst into loud hoots
of laughter. "Oh, that is rich, my dear," she said when she was
able. "Strange. I have always given the highest credence to
servants' gossip." She chuckled softly as she shook her head in
amazement.

"Emily is indeed wellborn, however," she continued
after a moment. "Servants always do recognize quality. She is in
fact the granddaughter of the Earl of Pentwick."

Robert, curious at best to hear Miss Townsend's
story, silently rose his brows in interest as he tackled a plate of
eggs. The dowager proceeded to enlighten him with the tale of the
runaway marriage of Emily's parents and the estrangement from her
mother's family. She also told what she knew, sparing no poignant
detail, of Emily's loss of her mother at an early age, and her
father's disastrous addiction to the gaming tables, which had left
Emily penniless upon his death.

"I believe I met Townsend once or twice," Robert
said as he stood up and moved to the sideboard to pour himself
another cup of coffee. "Unbelievably reckless. I never joined his
table, though. He seemed too pathetically desperate. Makes a man
feel dashed uncomfortable. Didn't realize the man had a
family."

"Nor did he," the dowager snarled as she held out
her cup for Robert to refill. "When Catherine died, I decided I
would ask Emily to come live with me here in Bath as my companion.
I admit it was impulsive. As you say, I've never had need of a
companion. But I haven't regretted it. Emily has been a joy to have
around. And, believe it or not, my dear, I really am getting older
and unfortunately slowing down a bit. I have found that it is
really quite helpful to have a companion."

"It's a touching story. Grandmother," Robert said as
he sipped his coffee. "But, I suspect, incomplete. No offense, my
dear, but I have never known you to be particularly charitable
toward your fellow man. In fact, I am sure I have heard you more
than once tell me that your opinion of humanity was so low
that—"

"Oh, hush!" the dowager snapped. "Surely I can offer
help to one well-bred but impoverished female without having my
motives questioned?"

"On the contrary. I know you too well, my dear. I
believe you must have other plans for the lovely but impoverished
Miss Townsend."

"Hmph!" the dowager snoited in reply.

Robert continued to glare at her in that piercing
way he had often found to be most effective, and she finally sighed
in resignation.

"Well," she began slowly, straightening the lace at
her sleeves, not daring to look at Robert, "I thought that being
here in Bath would give her an opportunity to get out more in
Society. Perhaps meet some nice gentleman .. ."

"Oho! Now we get to the core of the matter," Robert
interrupted. "You old fraud, you are acting as matchmaker!"

"And so what if I am?" she cried defensively. "Emily
is not meant for the lonely life of a paid companion or governess.
She is lovely and intelligent and well educated and charming. She
is not bred for the shelf, my boy. I declare, if her father had
provided her a come-out Season, she would have taken on the
instant."

"You astound me, ma'am. You have deceived me all
these years into believing that matchmaking games were beneath
you."

"And so they always have been, Robert. I find no joy
in interfering in other people's lives. But I tell you, this girl
is special. It honestly pains me to see her reduced to such a life.
I want to help her."

A rustle beneath the table made Robert aware of
Charlemagne's presence. He reached down for the pug, placed him on
his lap, and began to scratch him behind the ears. The pug panted
with pleasure. Robert returned his attention to his grandmother.
"Is Miss Townsend aware of your true purpose?" he asked.

"I believe she suspected at first," she replied.
"She knew that I was aware of her background and made me promise to
keep it to myself, as you must do, Robert. She also made it plain
that she was content to be an employee and did not seek to improve
her station in life. She is a very proud young woman and fully
believes that a female of her circumstances cannot afford to
cherish dreams of Society. That is why, if I ever find the right
candidate, I must be as circumspect as possible and orchestrate
matters so that they appear the most natural of situations."

"And how is the campaign progressing?" Robert asked.
"Sir Percy certainly seemed smitten, although it would be highly
uncharacteristic for him to pursue an impoverished companion with
any sort of honorable intentions. A squint-eyed heiress, perhaps.
The man's always been under the hatches. He's not truly a serious
candidate, is he?"

"Good heavens, no," the dowager snapped. "At least,
I hope not. Emily would be better off alone than with that old
bird." She caught Robert's eye, and they, both chuckled. "Besides,
Percy has apparently experienced a reversal of fortune. He came
into unexpected funds about a year ago. Can't recall the
circumstances precisely. An inheritance or something, I
suspect."

"Indeed?"

"But as to your question regarding the 'campaign,' "
continued the dowager, "although I have little experience in these
matters, I believe she is a truly difficult subject. I have tried
to introduce one or two eligible gentlemen to her acquaintance, but
she shows no interest. Oh, I realize she is all wrapped up in her
station as an employee, but she is making it deuced difficult for
me to help elevate that station. She seldom looks up from her
needlework when we have callers and barely speaks when she joins a
dinner party."

"And yet she was quite lively last evening," Robert
said.

"She is more comfortable with a small, intimate
group, which, as you know, is
not
my usual style. And she
knew all the guests quite well, which put her naturally at her
ease. Not to mention that
you
were at the top of your game
last night, Robert. No female can be expected to resist such charm!
And that is just the problem. There is no one in Bath with half
your address. Bath is full of dullards and dotards, mediocre males,
the lot of them. I declare, I don't know why I stay in this town,
since it's been taken over by retired civil servants and middle
class merchants. I cannot bring myself to foist one of them off on
poor Emily. Yet that's all we seem to have here in Bath. There are
few eligible men of our own class, to be sure, and certainly no
young, handsome fellows in the entire town." She grinned with a
coquettishness quite astonishing for a woman of her years. "Believe
me, I would be the first to know it if there were."

"Ah, but you will soon take her to London, where the
field is much wider," Robert replied, adding a conspiratorial
wink.

"Ha! You're on to me. Robert, my dear boy, you are
as intelligent as you are handsome. What a pity that you are now to
be leg-shackled. I declare, you would have been a perfect match for
my Emily."

Robert raised a quizzical brow. "Indeed. A
pity."

The dowager waved away the thought with her
long-fingered hand. "It is of no consequence. We will find a more
eligible
parti
for Emily, never you fear. Despite her
circumstances and her age, I believe she could still take. I will
keep my eyes open for those elusive eligible bachelors with
comfortable fortunes. He must be well enough set up so that Emily's
lack of fortune will be of no consideration. And, since she is not
precisely in her first blush of youth, he should be appropriately
mature. But he must have his wits about him! Emily has a sharp mind
and mustn't be saddled with a fool. Perhaps you can be of
assistance, Robert. Surely you have friends who might fit the
bill?"