The Counterfeit Betrothal (10 page)

“Why not tell her your solicitor has found a solution to the problem,” Hastings asked reasonably, “and that you are wedding her out of desire, not need.”

“Because he has not and she would soon find that out,” Jeremy replied bitterly “Moreover, if I said he had, Emmaline would return to her home tomorrow.”

“Why not simply tell her the truth then,” Edward asked. “As you have told me today.”

“Because she would not believe me,” he answered quietly. “Even you did not. She would think my father pressed me for the wedding and that I was once more lying to her to meet his demands. Under such terms she would never marry me for her pride is damned near as strong as my own. No, I have thought about this and only if she believes I have an alternative will she accept the notion that I do wish to marry her of my own choice. Will you help me? Or have I mistaken your feelings for Miss Kirkwood?”

“You have not mistaken them,” Edward conceded reluctantly. “And I confess I have no wish to see her wed that fellow the Marquess of Alnwick. Or to you. Very well, I shall do as you ask.”

Jeremy clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You are the most excellent of fellows, Edward! And I promise that I shall take great care that Miss Kirkwood does not fall in love with me. Not that I have much fear of that after seeing how she looked at you,” he said. “All right?”

In answer, Edward said gruffly, “Where the devil is your man with our lunch?”

12

If
Hastings was uncomfortable with the plan, Emmaline was even more so. Not that she knew what Jeremy was about, but the more she thought about it, the more distressing she found the notion of Jeremy wedding her friend Rosalind. It would not be fair to her friend, she told herself stoutly, and that was surely the reason for her discontent. On the other hand, marriage to Jeremy would surely be better than marriage between Rosalind and her marquess, wouldn’t it? Several mornings later, thoroughly miserable, Emmaline prepared for her friend’s visit.

So did Edward, taking great pains with his appearance so that he was a quarter of an hour late coming down to breakfast, a fact that did not escape his mother’s notice. “Edward,” she said with deceptive lightness, “I wonder if you would be kind enough to escort me about this morning. I have some errands I must run and need your assistance.”

“Take m’father,” he answered promptly.

“I cannot. He is pledged to friends,” she replied evenly.

“So too am I,” Edward said with a set look to his jaw. “I am pledged to spend the morning with Miss Delwyn and her friend Miss Kirkwood.”

The faint flush that accompanied this statement caused Mrs. Hastings’ own blood to rise, but she was far too subtle a woman to speak her thoughts openly. Instead she laughed artfully and said, “Well, of course if you do not trust Barnett to watch after them...”

“I do not,” he answered firmly. Then, with a loyalty to Jeremy that cost him dearly he added, “Surely you must see, Mother? You know how matters stand between Emmaline and Jeremy. He wishes to court Miss Kirkwood and must have my presence as a cover to his intentions.”

“Indeed, I see everything,” Mrs. Hastings said grimly. Then, forcing herself to laugh again, she added, “Very well. I hope you have a happy morning, the four of you. I shall somehow manage on my own.”

Her anger was so great that Mrs. Hastings entirely failed to see how cast down Emmaline was at Edward’s words. If she had, it might have gone a long way toward setting her fears to rest. Edward was not so blind. After his mother had gone, he turned to Emmaline and asked, with no little concern, “Is something wrong?” She shook her head and he added with a heartiness he did not feel, “Our plans are going splendidly, you know. Why, I have no doubt that in a few weeks all shall be settled between Jeremy and Miss Kirkwood for a wedding forthwith.”

And why that should give her an instant headache was more than she could understand! Emmaline told herself tartly. Aloud, however, she only said, “Yes, splendidly. I suppose he really does care for her?”

A twinge of conscience made Edward pause, but resolutely he pressed on with Jeremy’s plan. Possessing himself of Emmaline’s hand, he assured her falsely, “You need have no fear, Miss Delwyn. Soon you will be free to return home to Selborne, if that is what you wish, and Jeremy will never trouble you again.”

It was the look of utter bleakness that crossed her face then that reconciled Edward to Jeremy’s intentions. In spite of himself he asked her, “Have I distressed you, Miss Delwyn? Am I mistaken and do you wish to marry Jeremy after all?”

At once Emmaline sprang to her feet and turned her back to him. Over her shoulder she flung at Hastings, “M—marry Jeremy? Don’t be absurd! I have told you before we should not suit. Particularly now that I know he has formed a—a
tendre
for someone else.”

“And if he had not?” Edward persisted. “If he had formed a
tendre
for you?”

Now she rounded on him. “How dare you roast me like this?” she demanded angrily. “You know very well that while I amuse him, Jeremy can, at times, scarcely abide my presence. It is no kindness in you to pretend otherwise.”

“Suppose Jeremy were to say otherwise?” Edward asked meekly.

Emmaline laughed mirthlessly. “Oh, in that event I should know that Jeremy had despaired of having Rosalind’s hand in marriage and that with his father hard at his heels he had decided I must do after all. Not that he would say so. No, for all his faults, Jeremy is too much the gentleman to admit such a thing. He would know all the right words to woo me but I should not be so foolish as to believe him a second time, I promise you! Now pray excuse me, I have some things I must do before Rosalind arrives.”

And with that Emmaline escaped upstairs. Or thought she had escaped. Instead she found Mrs. Hastings waiting for her in her room. That lady was pacing the floor and appeared to be in a state of some agitation. Emmaline was all concern. “Has anything happened?” she asked at once.

Mrs. Hastings looked at her young houseguest squarely. “Not yet, my dear,” she said frankly, “but I fear it soon shall. I feel as though I have utterly failed you.”

Somewhat taken aback, Emmaline blinked as she said, “Failed me? Whatever can you mean, ma’am?”

This time it was Mrs. Hastings who possessed herself of Emmaline’s hands as she said, “My poor child, do you think I do not know what it will mean to you should Barnett marry Miss Kirkwood instead? Oh yes, yes, I know you say that is your wish as well, but have you truly considered the gossip it will give rise to? However much you may concur in his decision, the
ton
will see only that he threw you over for someone else. And that is a thing no one can like.” She paused and regarded Emmaline steadily as she said, “Do you truly dislike young Barnett so much? Has he offended you so horribly?”

Emmaline blushed. Avoiding those searching eyes, she said, “Didn’t you once say that no one would hold me to blame were I to call off the betrothal?”

“No one other than Prinny,” Mrs. Hastings allowed frankly. “However, this is another matter. It will look as though he overthrew you. I ask you again, do you hate Jeremy Barnett so deeply?”

Emmaline did not mean to allow her face to betray her. And had she not been so tired, no doubt her training would have stood her in good stead and she would have succeeded in deceiving Mrs. Hastings. But as it was, Mrs. Hastings took a breath of satisfaction and said kindly, “My dear, you cannot hide from me that you have a fondness for Jeremy and that the notion that he will wed someone else is making you desperately unhappy.”

Emmaline kept her eyes firmly fixed anywhere but upon her hostess as she replied, a trifle breathlessly, “You cannot know that. And even if it were true, what is that to the point? It alters nothing.”

“It alters everything,
if
you possess the slightest resolution,” Mrs. Hastings answered tartly. “Marry Jeremy yourself. At once, before this nonsense with Miss Kirkwood goes any further.”

In vain Emmaline tried to pull her hands free. “I cannot! I will not marry a man who is indifferent or dislikes me. Not—not when I love him.”

Mrs. Hastings let go of her guest’s hands. “You are so certain of how he feels then?” she asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes!”

“So?”

“So?” Emmaline repeated, a trifle dazed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I think you something of a little fool!” Mrs. Hastings said tartly. “To tamely watch the man you love marry someone else because he does not love you is the height of folly!”

“But I could not bear to love him so dearly and see him every day indifferent to me,” Emmaline cried.

“I should think not,” Mrs. Hastings agreed coolly. “No one is asking you to. But I would think that had you the slightest resolution you would at least make a push to alter matters.”

“Alter matters? How?”

Mrs. Hastings sighed in exasperation. “My dear Emmaline, I had no notion you were such a peagoose! Though perhaps it is not your fault. The lack of a mother’s hand these past five years and more has certainly done you no service. What I mean is that I expect you to make a push to cause the fellow to love you. Surely his attentions are not so firmly fixed upon Miss Kirkwood that that is impossible?”

“No,” Emmaline agreed coolly. “What makes it impossible is that Jeremy has taken me in dislike. He is forever dressing me down for one imagined fault or another and telling me how thoroughly he disapproves of my behavior.”

“That does not sound like indifference to me,” Mrs. Hastings said with raised eyebrows.

“No, it is dislike, and that is far worse,” Emmaline retorted crossly. “He has not even tried to kiss me since the day before he met Rosalind, nor shown any jealousy since the ball at Carlton House.”

Mrs. Hastings, who had chosen to speak to Emmaline more out of desperation than from any sense that matters could be truly altered, became both thoughtful and steadily more cheerful. After a silence that could not help but grate upon Emmaline’s sensibilities, she said quietly, “So, my dear, he has kissed you? How often?”

“Twice,” Emmaline said pettishly. “No, three times. But that means nothing. Jeremy is a hardened rake and no doubt steals a kiss whenever he can find one.”

Mrs. Hastings did not trouble to hide her amusement. “My dear child,” she said, “Jeremy may be a rake but one can scarcely call him hardened, as yet. As for stealing kisses: with the demi monde, yes, as often as he is able. But for all his faults, the boy is a gentleman and he would scarcely kiss someone as gently bred as yourself lightly. Perhaps there is hope yet. Particularly if you tell me he was jealous.”

“Well, I do not see it,” Emmaline countered.

“That is because you are still a child in such matters, whatever your true age may be,” Mrs. Hastings said amiably. “You have had no one to explain things to you and I have been remiss in not doing so since you came under my roof.”

Still unconvinced, Emmaline asked her hostess crossly, “Very well, ma’am. What do you say I am to do?”

Mrs. Hastings did not immediately answer. Indeed, the silence stretched on so long that Emmaline once more began to despair. At last, however, her hostess said briskly, “We need not concern ourselves about your wardrobe. That is already bang up to the mark and flattering to you besides. You have made a start in stirring the flames of jealousy, and a touch more of that cannot hurt. Show yourself willing to be pleased by the courtesies shown you by other gentlemen. Allow Jeremy to become angry with you, but never you with him. Indeed, you must be all cool dignity or, should he deign to scold you, meekly obedient. Surprise him, confuse him, make him doubt his own mind about you. Learn to flirt discreetly.” A thought occurred to her and she added suspiciously, “Miss Kirkwood is, I believe, a friend of yours, is she not?”

“Yes,” Emmaline admitted unwillingly.

“Good. Then you may confide in her and ask her help,” Mrs. Hastings said briskly. “She may be alternately hot and cold with Jeremy and so outrageous in her demands of his time and proof of affection that he will turn in relief to someone as sensible as you shall prove yourself to be.”

Then, allowing no dissent, Mrs. Hastings rose to her feet, shook out her skirts, and continued in the same brisk tone, “Look to it, my girl. As for me, I truly do have errands I must run. But I shall nevertheless contrive to arrange it that you have a chance to speak to Miss Kirkwood alone, up here in your bedchamber, before my son or Jeremy sees her. For we shouldn’t want Edward to know what we are about; he might warn Jeremy. You wait here and make yourself as attractive as you can. My dresser must do your hair in some new manner. I shall attend to everything. And
remember, my dear, resolution is all that is wanted here. Follow my advice and we shall have you wed to Jeremy before August is out. I ought to know, as I’ve married off a daughter and three nieces with not a spinster left in the family.”

Then, pausing only long enough to kiss Emmaline affectionately upon the cheek, Mrs. Hastings was gone, leaving her young houseguest to anxiously consult the looking glass and ring for her maid.

13

MRS. Hastings was true to her word. Her dresser knocked on Emmaline’s door scarcely five minutes after that lady left her. With nimble fingers and numerous observations about foolish young women who neglected to use to advantage the skill of those about them, she set to work on Emmaline’s hair.

Rosalind was shown up to Emmaline’s room just as Miss Canfield finished. Both girls waited until she had left before they threw their arms about one another. Then Rosalind asked anxiously, “What is it, Emmy? I was told I must come up to you at once. Are you ill? Has something occurred? Have you ... have you heard from your father or about him? Is he—”

Hastily Emmaline stemmed the flow of words. “No, Rosalind. I swear, nothing of the sort has occurred.”

Rosalind regarded her friend with narrow eyes and asked suspiciously, “Emmaline, are you up to mischief, again? At Mrs. Winfred’s School you used always to get just such a look before you engaged in some sort of nonsense.” Then her voice altered
entirely as she laughed and said, “Tell me what it is and what part I may play!”

Emmaline laughed, a trifle ruefully. “You may not wish to play a part when you know what I am about. Indeed, you may wish me at Jericho and prefer to let matters continue as they have begun.”

“Well, unless I know what you are talking about, how can I judge the matter?” Rosalind asked reasonably as she sat on the chair by Emmaline’s dressing table. “Why don’t you tell me everything?”

An innate reluctance to expose her own foolishness to anyone as well as a lack of opportunity had heretofore prevented Emmaline from telling Rosalind the circumstances of her betrothal to Jeremy. Now she did so, leaving out nothing of her own feelings or his reaction to questions of setting a date. She even told her friend the plot that had brought them to London and the part she had imagined Rosalind might play. Then Emmaline paused, wishing to discover Rosalind’s reaction to the notion of marrying Jeremy.

Rosalind all but jumped to her feet and began to pace the room. Her words tumbled over themselves as she tried to explain how she felt. “I had not thought ... He is so entirely the gentleman, and he has been so kind in his attentions ... Mama would be so distressed ... I had somehow though Mr. Hastings ... Of course I cannot bear the thought of marriage to ... to ... Anyone must be better than him and truly I can think of no one else who might marry me ... But Jeremy was betrothed to you and I did not think ... Although you did say ... But what about Mr. Hasting? I thought he—”

In confusion Rosalind broke off and laughed at herself. “Look at me,” she said a trifle grimly. “Wasn’t I the one who always preached to you that one must be sensible about marriage and not look for passion? That one must always keep one’s wits about one? It would be sensible to marry Mr. Barnett since I cannot bear the Marquess of Alnwick, but I find, unaccountably, that I wish rather to know about Mr. Hastings.”

Emmaline looked away, embarrassed. “Edward is merely to keep the tattleboxes from wondering what we are about,” she said with real regret. “You see, we thought it would not do for them to realize that Jeremy means to wed someone else.”

“Oh,” Rosalind said quietly. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, “Very well, you have told me all about your betrothal, as you promised you would. But I still do not understand. What is it you wish me to do?”

“I am not entirely certain,” Emmaline replied hesitantly. “Mrs. Hastings has guessed that I am not indifferent to Jeremy. She said that between us you might push Jeremy away and I draw him closer, but I cannot bear to think you may be forced to wed Alnwick.”

A trifle pale, Rosalind answered resolutely, “It shall not come to that, I promise you.”

“Oh, and how will you prevent it?” Emmaline demanded tartly. “You’ve never had the resolution to stand up to your parents before, and even if you did so now, how could you disobey them? You’ve no money, no other family to flee to, how could you run from them? For I’ve no doubt they would make your life unbearable if you did not.”

Rosalind took another deep breath before she replied, “I shall depend upon you, then. Or you and Jeremy, for perhaps by then you will be wed.”

“And if I am not?” Emmaline asked hollowly. “If in spite of Mrs. Hastings advice, he does not wish to marry me but clings to the desire to marry you?”

“If there is no chance he will marry you then...”

“Then you will marry him if he wishes it,” Emmaline decided for her friend. “You have said that you like him, and if there is not love, at least it will be a civil marriage and your heart will not ache that you share a bed and home with a man who does not love you in return. Agreed?”

Rosalind swallowed. “Very well,” she said resolutely, although her voice wavered. “If, in the end, Jeremy will not marry you but does wish to marry me and my parents are pressing me to wed the Marquess of Alnwick, and ... and there is no one else, then I shall marry him. But not, mind you, if there is the least doubt about any of those three things.”

Impulsively Emmaline hugged her friend. “You must, you know,” she told Rosalind stoutly. “For Jeremy’s sake as well as your own. He has to marry and soon.”

Rosalind hesitated before answering and Emmaline pressed her, “What is it? What troubles you?”

Rosalind met her friend’s eyes steadily as she said, “All of this. When we were in school together, before your father became ill, you were used to talk of Jeremy as though he were perfect. Then, when Mama brought me out, I saw a rather different view of him. Now, well, all this seems—” She broke off in confusion and Emmaline smiled wryly, “Strange? Mad perhaps?” she suggested. “I suppose it does. But if he loved me, I think I would be very happy wed to Jeremy. He laughs at the same things I do. We used almost to be friends and sometimes in these past few weeks I have felt we were again.” She paused and an odd light came into her eyes. “Do you know, he goes about making certain that various charities do not lack for funds? And champions individuals who have fallen down on their luck? Helps them to find a place again? It is not a side of him I had expected to find, I confess, and yet I did, here in London.”

“I have never heard that said of him,” Rosalind observed quietly.

Emmaline shook her head. “No, you would not. I had the devil of a time even getting him to let me come along on some of his expeditions. Sometimes I think he’d rather the world thought him an ogre. Oh, Rosalind, don’t you see? I would never need fear that he would bore me with his predictability or respectability, for he doesn’t care for such things any more than I do. You, of all people, Rosalind, know how often Mrs. Winfred scolded me for recklessness and unconventionality. You know how much I have always chafed at my skirts and all the rules that hem women about. The years have taught me prudence, but I shall never care for prim propriety. So you see, it would be fatal for me to marry a man who would assume and expect that I did! Jeremy would take me as I am. If he loved me.”

A look of distress settled upon Rosalind’s face, and seeking to banish it, Emmaline said briskly, “Enough! Come along. It is time we went downstairs. I’ve no doubt Jeremy and Edward are waiting for us.”

In point of fact, the two men were laying their own plans and broke off hastily at the sound of the two young ladies descending the stairs. His face carefully expressionless, Edward watched as Jeremy went up to Miss Kirkwood, possessed her hand in his own, and said warmly, “How delightful to see you, Miss Kirkwood. It seems forever since I last had the pleasure of your company.”

In spite of herself, the young lady giggled. “It was just yesterday, Mr. Barnett, in the park,” she told him sternly.

His eyes dancing, Jeremy retorted, “There, you see I told you it was forever!”

Rosalind blushed, then mindful of Emmaline’s advice to blow both hot and cold, she turned to Edward and said with uncharacteristic warmth, “Mr. Hastings. How nice to see you again.”

That gentleman bowed gravely and said with a smile and quiet sincerity, “My dear Miss Kirkwood, it is always a pleasure to see you.”

Hastily Emmaline possessed herself of Edward’s arm and looked up at him warmly before greeting her
fiancé
coolly. “Hallo. You are looking a trifle tired today, Jeremy. A long night, I fear?”

“No longer than Edward’s,” he answered shortly. “And may I tell you, Emmaline, that I take exception to the way you are clinging to my friend? It would not be the thing even if you were not
officially
engaged to me. Such impropriety might well give the fastidious cause for gossip.”

Forgetting all her resolutions, Emmaline retorted hotly, “Ah yes, you cannot bear I should embarrass you, is that not so? At least I do not flaunt my mistresses in the park when everyone is about!”

For a long moment there was an appalled silence in the room as Jeremy carefully studied the impeccable manicured nails upon one of his hands. Then, meeting her eyes directly, he said calmly, “Nor have I, my dear, since our betrothal was announced. You really must learn to eschew such vulgarity. I have told you before I dislike these references to such women. Need I repeat the lesson?”

As Emmaline recalled just what he had done the last time, she turned a deep crimson and would have fled had Edward not said softly, “Courage, Miss Delwyn.”

Instantly her back straightened and her chin came up. Jeremy merely laughed and turned to Rosalind. “Pray forgive us our wrangling, Miss Kirkwood. I’ve no doubt that by now Emmaline has told you the truth of our betrothal, and while I have no wish to have that knowledge bruited about, I know I may trust in your discretion. Come, let us go into the library. There are some books there I think you would like to see.”

Helplessly Emmaline watched them go, unaware that beside her Edward was hard put to suppress a smile. His face was impassive, however, as she turned to him and said tartly, “Jeremy does not appear to know how to go about wooing my friend. If he imagines such a scene as just passed will do him a service in her eyes, he is much mistaken!” Edward could not very well tell her that Jeremy was in fact taking great care to ensure that Miss Kirkwood did not fall in love with him. Instead he said with apparent concern, “Do you think it wise, Miss Delwyn, for us to allow them to go unchaperoned? Mightn’t it be better for us to join them at once.”

Stricken, Emmaline agreed with alacrity. “Yes, it will do Rosalind’s reputation no good for it to be bruited about that she has been
t
ê
te-
à
-t
ê
te
with my
fiancé
.”

If there was a bitterness in the last word, Edward did not remark upon it. Instead he quietly led the way, merely commenting on how lovely her friend looked that morning. His quiet talk, however, gave way to a fit of coughing when, upon opening the library door, they discovered Jeremy standing far too close to Rosalind for propriety as he solicitously pointed out a passage in one of the books, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder. With an expression that Emmaline could only interpret as great self-satisfaction, Jeremy met her eyes and said coolly, “Hallo. Come to join us, have you?”

Only Rosalind appeared to notice the look of dismay that Emmaline could not control and, blushing, she hastily moved away from Jeremy. Her own cheeks flushed with anger, Emmaline said evenly, “May I speak with you alone, Jeremy? In the drawing room, perhaps?”

“I am at your service,” he answered with a half bow.

Emmaline contained her temper until they were once more in the room filled with Egyptian furniture. Today the absurdity of it did not amuse her at all, and when he had closed the doors behind them, she rounded on Jeremy and demanded angrily, “How dare you treat my friend that way?”

“I do not recall that she objected to my manner,” he answered coolly.

As though to further annoy her, Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the wall, and watched as Emmaline paced about the room. “You know very well what I mean!” she flung at him. “If Rosalind is too inexperienced to know that you have gone beyond the line then you are not! I said you might court her, not ruin her or cause her the least distress.”

“I have no intention of ruining Miss Kirkwood,” Jeremy protested innocently. “My father shouldn’t accept her as a bride if I did. As for distress, why life is never entirely free of that, is it?”

Emmaline paused in her pacing to face him then. “The devil take you, Jeremy Barnett! Don’t roast me like this, I mean what I say. Rosalind is not some doxy of yours to be treated so carelessly.”

At that Jeremy’s eyes narrowed and he came away from the wall, advancing menacingly upon Emmaline. “I have told you before such words are not becoming in my
fiancée
,” he said dangerously, “and whether you like it or not, you still are my
fiancée
.”

“What—what are you going to do?” Emmaline asked faintly as she came up against a sofa and could retreat no further.

“This!” he exclaimed as he caught her to him. One hand went around her waist and pressed Emmaline against the length of his body, the other forced her head back and her face up to meet his. Then, before she even had time to form a protest, Jeremy’s lips were upon hers, once more punishing and demanding. To her horror, the hand on her waist left it to begin to tug at the top of her dress, then reached inside to fondle her breasts. As Emmaline turned scarlet, she tried to pull free, but the hand tangled in her hair held fast and she could not, though her struggles caused Jeremy to lift his lips from hers. A gleam of amusement lit his eyes as he looked down at her flushed face.

“Like it, my dear?” he asked sardonically. “
This
is how one treats a doxy!”