Lady Emma's Dilemma (9781101573662) (14 page)

The three of them sat in silence for a moment until Amelia said softly, “But you were only eighteen and Devruex was not much older. Maybe he truly did love you and when you ran away …”

Emma shook her head as Amelia's voice trailed off. “No. I am coming to the end of my sad tale,” she said, attempting a self-deprecating little laugh. “The next day, when I had calmed down, I knew my feelings for him had not changed. I waited, confident that he would come to Kelbourne Keep, sober and more serious about the action we intended to take. It never entered my love-struck little brain that he would not come back. I waited and waited like a besotted fool with my nose pressed against the windowpane. But he never came back. I did not receive so much as a note. So you see, his professed love for me was obviously not very deep or enduring. Three months later, I married Charles.”

“Oh, Emma,” Amelia said, her eyes full of tears and her tone full of awe. “I hardly know what to say. I never would have suspected that you had something like this in your past. Since I have known you, you have been the model of all that is poised and circumspect. This is so tragically romantic. I feel quite teary just thinking of how much this must have hurt you and I never knew. But, surely, it is behind you now?”

Spreading her hands wide, Emma said, “I do not know why his presence should throw me into such confusion. Last night, when we danced, I had every intention of behaving as if I barely recalled Lord Devruex. Instead, I behaved like a shrew. I am certain that he is gloating over the fact that I have never forgotten him. It's ridiculous to be this angry after nearly thirteen years, for heaven's sake. My life has been so busy that I have scarce given him a thought. Yet now …” She could not put into words the bewildering emotions that had gripped her heart since seeing Jack again.

Penelope nodded her blond head in understanding. “Yes, you organized your homes with impeccable skill and you played hostess to your husband's family and friends. After dealing with such a terrible tragedy early in your marriage, then coping with the loss of Charles, you built and directed the management of not only a school but an orphanage as well. You have also championed the rights of children working in mills in Yorkshire. And you are an accomplished harpist and gardener. Lord only knows what else I have left out of your hectic schedule.”

Emma turned to look at her old friend, a puzzled frown furrowing her brow. “And what is the point of this recitation of what is on my calendar?”

Penelope sent her a look of keen understanding. “To illustrate that you have finally run out of things to occupy every moment of your time. Mind, I am not saying that you do not enjoy all those activities, but keeping so busy has held the past at bay. Don't you know, Emma,” Penelope
said with uncharacteristic gravity, a suspicious sheen in her large green eyes, “that in matters of love it does not signify how much time has gone by, the heart never forgets.”

“D
espite your earlier trepidation, I would hazard to say that you are now enjoying yourself,” Amelia said, leaning close so that Emma could hear her over the jig being played by a nearby quartet and the raucous noise coming from the other supper boxes.

Sending a quick glance to the other end of the table, Emma saw, through the flickering flames of a stout brace of candles, Devruex's profile and deep dimples. Mrs. Bruce, seated next to him, threw her head back and laughed uproariously at something he said.

Again, that inexplicable flash of anger flared within her. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Amelia.

“I can say that I am, thanks to you.” She sent Amelia an affectionate smile. “You were very adroit at making sure Devruex and I were in different coaches for the ride here.”

Amelia grinned as the server refilled their goblets with potent arrack punch. “Easiest thing in the world! As it was, we needed two conveyances, and placing you at opposite ends of our supper box proved just as easy. With all this music and laughter you can hardly be expected to shout at each other across the length of the table.”

“No, indeed,” Emma said, “and if Mrs. Bruce keeps his attention focused upon her, I shall not have to speak more than ten words to him this evening.”

This was true, for when Devruex had arrived at the Spence-Jones townhouse, looking disturbingly handsome
in his dark blue jacket, he barely had time to do much more than bow and fix her with his dark, amused gaze before Amelia had whisked him off to meet the ebullient, auburnhaired Mrs. Bruce.

Roger had then presented to Emma the stout Mr. Bosworth, Mrs. Bruce's brother. Moments later, they had all left the townhouse in a merry hurry.

Mrs. Bruce's hearty laugh pulled Emma's thoughts back to her engaging dinner companions.

“And how do you like Vauxhall Gardens, Lady Fallbrook? I know you have never been here before. Does it meet your expectations?”

Emma turned to Penelope's dashing husband with a smile. “It does, sir. I could not have imagined such a place existed. The lanterns and faerie lights illuminate the promenades with such beautiful and fanciful colors that it quite chases the night away. I had no notion that the crowds would be so dense and diverse.”

He sent her a mischievous look. “Did you notice the transparencies?”

Emma laughed and tapped him playfully on his arm. “Ah, I see the roguish twinkle in your eyes, Tunbridge. You must have seen the way I practically jumped when I saw that ragged hermit, only to find out on closer inspection that it was just a clever illusion,” Emma said, meeting his smiling hazel eyes with her own.

Lifting his goblet he said, “A toast to you, Lady Fallbrook. And may I say that it is good to have you gracing Society again? We have missed your bright company.”

“Oh, sir, no wonder Penelope never ceases to sing your praises,” she said with warm affection.

To her surprised amusement, she could see a ruddy flush come to his handsome features.

“Does she?” he murmured.

Before Emma could reply, Penelope turned from her conversation with Mr. Bosworth on the other side of the
table and said, “Lady Fallbrook, you must come to the Severly races next month! It absolutely cannot be missed.”

Emma recalled that Grandmère had mentioned the Severly Stakes this afternoon, and that Devruex had a horse entered. Just then, the smooth, deep timbre of Devruex's laugh drew her gaze to where he, Roger, and Mrs. Bruce sat less than two yards from her in deep conversation.

“I have not had the honor of an invitation,” Emma said, dragging her attention back to Penelope.

“I am sure that is only because Severly has no notion that you are in Town,” the petite blonde said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I will make sure that you receive an invitation. Although it is only an hour or so out of Town, it is much more pleasant to spend the night at Longdown.”

“I thought the Severlys lived in Derbyshire.” Emma had known the Duke of Severly years ago, for he and her brother, Kel, were old friends. She had not seen the duke since his marriage a couple of years ago.

“They do, but Severly purchased Longdown because of its proximity to London and the good stretch of flat land on which to run his horses,” Tunbridge supplied. “The races started informally, but for the last few years it's become the most talked about meet of the Season. By a complex method of preliminary heats, five horses are entered into each of two races. The first is for fillies.”

“It was terribly exciting last year,” Amelia interjected. “The weather was perfect and we all drove out together and claimed a spot on the grass near the finish line. We brought picnic baskets and visited with everyone because nothing starts on time, which makes it all perfectly lovely. The Severly races have become all the crack.”

“I confess myself surprised,” Emma said. “I always thought Severly was quite private. It's difficult to imagine him sponsoring such an event.”

At a sudden burst of nearby music, Penelope set her cup down and leaned toward Emma. “Severly has softened a bit since he's married the beautiful Celia. Tunbridge says that
so many of the important races have become a bore—too crowded, too ripe for corruption. The Severly Stakes are kept small, but the side betting is enormous. The prizes are presented to the winning owners at the ball later in the evening.”

“Some people,” Amelia interjected, “who know they don't have a prayer of being invited, put it around long before the invitations are sent that they have obligations in Town during the Severly races.”

As she smiled at the vanities of Society, Emma's attention was again caught by Mrs. Bruce's laugh, and she glanced down the table to see Devruex smiling at the auburn-haired beauty.

“It would seem that Mrs. Bruce is also enjoying herself,” Amelia said, giving Emma a sideways smile.

“Is her laugh rather shrill or is it just me?” Emma was beginning to find everything about Mrs. Bruce irritating.

Amelia grinned. “I do find her a little too jolly, but Mr. Bosworth is Roger's particular friend.”

At that moment, Roger, sitting on the widow's right, pushed his chair back and stood up. Smiling at his guests, he said, “Come now, we must all make haste if we are going to gain a good view of the fireworks.”

Amelia rose and moved to her husband's side. “Yes, we must stay close. The crowds are terrific.”

As Lord Tunbridge assisted his wife, then Emma, from their chairs, Emma glanced again at Jack. He offered Mrs. Bruce his hand to help her rise, and with a huge smile she took it, holding it for longer than was necessary.

Taking a moment to carefully adjust her heavily embroidered lilac blue shawl to drape at her elbows just so, Emma told herself sternly not to look in his direction again.

They all left the semiprivate supper box and were instantly immersed in a sea of excited merrymakers. The red-and-gold lanterns dazzled Emma's eyes and she was fascinated to see that many people wore fanciful masks and
gamboled about the promenade like children around a maypole.

She continued to weave through the crowd, finding it difficult to keep up with her friends. As warm bodies seemed to press around her, she paused to catch her breath. She had never been in such a large crowd and found it a little unnerving.

“Lady Fallbrook! I knew I could not be mistaken! It is you.”

At the vaguely familiar voice, Emma whipped her head around and met a pair of smiling, warm brown eyes.

“Lord Darley!” She was quite surprised to see him, perhaps because she had hardly given him a thought since they had danced last night.

“Good evening,” she said, feeling a true smile come to her lips. Even though she had practically forgotten him, she had to admit that she found his eager, admiring expression quite flattering.

“How delightful to see you, Lady Fallbrook. It is a very fine night for fireworks—if a bit crowded,” he said in vast understatement.

Someone jostled him, seemingly to confirm his statement. He made a comical face and Emma laughed at his charming good nature. Glancing around, she saw that the boisterous crowd had separated her from the others, and her friends were now some distance away. “Oh, you are correct. I am here with the Spence-Joneses and the Tunbridges but we have already become separated.”

“I came with Lords Trevor and Monteford and Mrs. W—er—and other friends, but I fear they are lost to me.”

Emma tried to hide her smile as he flushed red at nearly making the uncouth mistake of mentioning Mrs. Willoughby to her. Glancing past Darley's shoulder, she could not mistake Devruex's broad back moving away from her. Mrs. Bruce clung to his arm, and even from here, Emma could hear her hearty laugh above the din.

“Are you well, Lady Fallbrook?”

Pulling her gaze away from Devruex, she attempted to smile at Darley. “I am fine, sir. It is just that I am unused to such crowds.”

“If you will allow, I can escort you to a less crowded area of the gardens. It won't have as clear a view of the fire-works display as we have here, but it will no doubt be less crowded.”

Tilting her head to the side, Emma admired the fit of his claret-colored jacket while considering his offer. She was tempted. After all, she came to London seeking what her life in Yorkshire so obviously lacked. With a last glance at Devruex's back and a sudden stubborn sense of thrill, Emma decided that Vauxhall Gardens, of all places, seemed exactly the right place for a walk with a handsome man.

Glancing back in the direction the others had gone, she spared a worried thought that Amelia and Penelope would think she'd gotten herself lost and send a search party.

Just then, she caught sight of Penelope's bright curls. Penelope turned and scanned the crowd with a slight frown. A moment later, their eyes met.

Holding Penelope's gaze, Emma tilted her head in a significant way toward Darley, hoping her friend would take her meaning.

Even from this distance, Emma could see her friend's delighted and encouraging smile. With a cheery wave, Penelope turned back to her husband.

Feeling free to be daring, Emma gave Lord Darley her most dazzling smile. “I would like that very much.” Her voice sounded a little firmer than she intended.

With a winning grin, he held out his arm to her and began to lead her through the raucous throng—even passing the odd sight of a man on stilts—until the numbers began to thin. Moments later they turned through a gap between the hedgerow onto a tree-lined lane that was much less illuminated than the Grand Walk they had just left.

Lord Darley kept up a steady stream of conversation as Emma admired the firmness of the arm beneath her fingers.
The festive voices and music became a distant drone, and their feet crunching along the graveled path, with the soft sounds of birds roosting in the tall trees, brought a quite unexpected feeling of intimacy to the situation.

Suddenly, the memory of Devruex teasing her about the wagers being placed on her possible marriage to Darley made her defiantly glad that she had gone off with him.