The Counterfeit Betrothal (13 page)

“At the Clarendon,” Sir Osbert replied. Then, with a twinkle in his eyes, he said, “We came to see the celebrations in the parks, tomorrow. The papers have been full of the preparations and we promised ourselves we would not miss them for the world. And of course we mean to see Emmaline wed. My dear, your letters telling us how happy you are made us impatient to see you tie the knot yourself.”

In dismay, Emmaline could only stare at her father. All at once the letters she had sent, meant to reassure him when he was so ill, seemed a grave mistake. Rosalind, usually so meek, sprang to her aid. In a voice that was a trifle breathless she said saucily, “There is someone else who needs to be consulted before the plans are made surely? Mr. Barnett.”

“Yes, we expect him back to the box any moment,” Mrs. Hastings said tranquilly.

Sir Osbert waved a careless hand. “Oh, he may be a little delayed. His father is here in London with us. He wishes to see the Chinese pagoda, you know. But right now I’ve no doubt he and Jeremy are in conversation and have much to say to one another.” He hesitated; then, looking pale, he said quietly, “I pray you will forgive me if I sit down. I am much better but still need to have a care for my health.”

Immediately everyone hastened to make him comfortable. When he was settled, his wife, who was still standing, said with a fond smile, “Don’t worry. We shall have him right as a trivet in no time.”

Just then the door of the box once more opened and Edward and Jeremy and Lord Barnett were standing there with everyone looking as pale as Sir Osbert.

16

Somehow
they got through the rest of the evening. Fortunately the curtain had gone up immediately, and by the time the play had ended both Jeremy and Emmaline had regained control of their voices. With creditable calm they had bid their fathers good night. Jeremy had even managed to commandeer Edward’s carriage, saying, “You and your mother will wish to take Rosalind home. And Emmaline and I have much to speak about. Certain, er, plans to make.”

“Yes, of course you do,” Sir Osbert said approvingly. “But mind you take my daughter straight round to Mrs. Hastings’ house and speak further there with her if you must. After all, you are not yet wed, you know, and I’ve no mind to have my daughter provide speaking matter for all the tattleboxes of London.”

Jeremy nodded curtly and hastened Emmaline out of there as quickly as possible. Nor could he keep from cursing at the delay as they waited for Edward’s carriage to reach the door. The coachman, fortunately, accepted his hasty explanation of the change of plans without a quibble. Aside from being well trained, he was used to
seeing Jeremy
with his master and accustomed, by now, to their eccentricities.

As the carriage pulled away from the theater Jeremy rounded on Emmaline and demanded, “What the devil prompted your father to come to London? And just what have you been writing in your letters that makes him want an immediate wedding?”

Emmaline shrank back against the squabs, “Only what we agreed upon. That our betrothal was going well. That I was happy. That I missed him and hoped Mrs. Colton was taking good care of him.”

“You must have said something more,” he persisted.

“Why?” she demanded. “Why must it be something I have written? Why not something you did or said to
your
father? He is here as well, after all.”

“Perhaps,” Jeremy conceded with poor grace. “In any event it scarcely matters. They are here now and expecting that damnable wedding and if we are not careful we shall find ourselves leg-shackled against our wishes. That will put paid to your chances with the man you love, and I ... I have no taste for such a marriage.”

“So you have made very clear to me,” Emmaline retorted bitterly.

“Emmaline, had things been different, had you not fallen in love with this other man, could you have married me?” Jeremy asked hesitantly.

She looked at him a long time before answering. “Married a man who shrank from the notion? You need not pretend otherwise for I would not believe you. No, I cannot imagine such a marriage except as a sort of impossible hell.”

As she spoke, Jeremy turned his face away from her. “I see,” he said at last. “I have no taste, either, for marriage to someone who shrinks from such a step.”

“What shall we do, then?” Emmaline asked quietly, praying he would not read from her face the ache his words had aroused in her breast.

He did not answer right away. For one mad moment Jeremy considered marrying Emmaline and be damned with scruples! Be damned with this other fellow she believed herself in love with! But, closing his eyes, Jeremy knew he could not do it. Not when the example of his own uncle was so clearly before him. That fellow had married the woman he loved, over her objections, and she had come to hate him. A bitter, angry woman, she led him the devil’s own dance until finally she ran away with a man she claimed she did love and he shut himself away in the countryside, unable to face the scandal or the condolences of his friends.

When the words finally came, there was a dull bitterness to Jeremy’s voice that could not escape Emmaline. “You need do nothing. I shall take great care that I am the villain of the piece and everyone will feel sorry for you and congratulate you upon your fortunate escape.”

“But what do you mean to do?” Emmaline persisted.

Slowly he turned to face her. “I shall marry Miss Kirkwood. It will not be an ideal match but at least she will not have to marry the Marquess of Alnwick. Edward tells me he returns to London tomorrow and she is very much afraid of him, for which no one can blame her. Anyway, I shall contrive to speak with her and arrange for us to run away together tomorrow night. Then you need never see me again, if that is your wish.”

A trifle shakily Emmaline said, “You forget, she is my best friend.”

Bitterness still tinged Jeremy’s voice as he replied, “You need have no fear. I shall take care always to be away when you come to call. You need not fear I shall embarrass you. Then, after a time, you can wed the man you love.”

Looking down at her hands, Emmaline said hollowly, “That will not be possible.”

Roughly he said to her, “You think that now, but I tell you it will all work out.” He paused, then said in a voice heavy with sarcasm, “Have you an alternate plan?”

“Tell our fathers the truth?” she offered hesitantly.

Jeremy turned away. “You know what my father will say. And your own, in spite of how well he looked tonight, might not stand the shock.”

“And you think he will stand the shock of discovering you have eloped with another woman better?” Emmaline demanded roundly.

“He will when you explain that you have mistaken your feelings for me and fallen in love with another man,” Jeremy said inexorably. “Then he will only be grateful for your narrow escape from marriage to me.”

Despair washed over Emmaline. If ever there had been a chance to straighten out matters between herself and Jeremy, it was rapidly slipping away. Nor did it help when he took her hand gently and said with quiet sincerity, “I had not meant to hurt you, my dear. Will you remember me with at least a little affection?”

“A little?” she cried, snatching her hand away.

Jeremy leaned back against the squabs. His voice was cold as he said, “Forgive me. I had not realized your distaste ran so deep. There was a time when I thought you looked upon me with more than kindness. Evidently I have managed to destroy even that in you. My apologies. I can only repeat that I shall never distress you again.” Emmaline started to speak and he held up a hand. “No. Don’t say anything more. There is no point. We will soon be at the Hastings town house. I am sure you will forgive me if I do not escort you in.”

And that was that. Looking at Jeremy’s implacable profile, Emmaline could not bring herself to speak. Instead she sat miserably in her corner of the carriage, waves of despair continuing to wash over her. Had he seen the way she fled to her room upon reaching the Hastings household, and cried herself to sleep, he would certainly have altered his plans.

As it was, Jeremy returned to his own bachelor rooms, there to await Edward, who he knew would come. By the time Hastings arrived Jeremy was already well into a bottle of port. Tossing his hat and gloves on a nearby table, Edward drew up a chair next to Jeremy and said, “Well, my friend, what do you do now?”

Jeremy laughed harshly. “Why, I get married, of course,” he said simply.

Edward blinked, then grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I’m very happy for you! I presume then that you and Emmaline have reconciled and all is well?”

Irritably Jeremy shook free the hand. “We have done nothing of the sort,” he said roughly. “She is in love with someone else. You, in fact; or so I suspect. And I hope you will be happy together.” At his friend’s start of surprise Jeremy added, “You have more than once told me that if Emmaline were your
fiancée
, your eyes would not wander elsewhere. Well, here is your chance. If you are not in love with her yet, you soon will be when I am out of the way.”

A frown upon his face, Edward leaned back in his chair. In a voice that was carefully neutral he said, “Did Emmaline tell you she has a
tendre
for me?”

“She said she was in love and that it is someone I know, someone who is here in London and who is not yet in love with her. Who else could it be? I have seen how much at ease she is in your company, Edward, which she is not, for all her social success, with anyone else.”

For a long moment Hastings regarded his friend, choosing the words he would say. At last he suggested quietly, “Perhaps she means you, Jeremy.”

Barnett laughed harshly. “She has made it very plain she does not. She has even made it clear that she should prefer spinsterhood to being leg-shackled to me. I have lost her, destroyed whatever chance we might have had together.” There was genuine anguish in his eyes as he said, “I am not accustomed to this, Edward. Never did I think the day would come when a woman would run from me and not I from her.”

“I see. Your damnable pride is hurt,” Hastings suggested derisively.

“Damn you, it is far more than that!” Jeremy cursed his friend. “I’ve fallen in love with her. Too much in love to chain her to me for life.”

“You were willing to do so a few days ago,” Edward pointed out.

“That was before I knew how mistaken I was concerning her feelings toward me,” Jeremy curtly.

“Perhaps you were right then and mistaken now,” Edward suggested mildly.

Jeremy regarded Hastings steadily as he said, “You have encouraged me in this folly all along. Because of your fondness for both of us, you wished to believe Emmaline and I could be wed. I no longer trust your judgment on the matter, my friend.”

“But—” Hastings began.

“No!” Jeremy all but shouted the word.

Edward shrugged. “Very well, what do you mean to do?” he asked reasonably, his eyes hooded.

Jeremy got to his feet and began to pace the room. “I? I shall marry. Someone else. Then neither my father nor hers can blame Emmaline or force her into marriage to me when she so evidently does not wish it.”

“And whom do you mean to marry?” Edward asked warily.

“Rosalind” was the prompt reply. At his friend’s second start of surprise Jeremy went on, a trifle impatiently, “Why not? You have said yourself that the Marquess of Alnwick returns to London tomorrow. The girl would do anything to escape the fate of being wed to him and I flatter myself that she, at least, does not hold me in dislike. It will not be an ideal marriage but better than the torture of being wed to a woman who will hate me for it.” He did not wait for a reply nor look at Edward to see the distress upon his friend’s face. Instead he pressed on, “I shall need your help, of course, Edward. You must be the go-between, both for Rosalind and Emmaline. She must be forewarned so that she is prepared to explain matters to her father. Will you do it, my friend?”

For what seemed an interminable time to Jeremy, the silence stretched on. At last, with a curious half smile upon his face, Edward said, “Why yes, Jeremy, I shall. You may leave everything in my hands. I shall arrange whatever horses and carriage may be needed and arrange everything with Rosalind and even warn Emmaline. I presume you mean to flee to Gretna Green?”

“Of course. Mind you, now,” Jeremy said seriously, “Miss Kirkwood’s mother must not get wind of the affair. She would do her utmost to stop us.”

“You may trust me implicitly,” Edward replied.

It was Jeremy’s turn to clap his friend upon the shoulder. Then, once more pacing the room, he began to speak aloud his thoughts. “Not too early and yet not so late that her disappearance will at once be remarked upon. I have it! Everyone in London will be at the celebrations tomorrow night. It will be a terrific crush and nothing could be simpler than to slip away. Rosalind will not at once be missed, and even when she is, it will be some time before an alarm is sounded. It will merely be assumed that she and I were separated from the others in the crowd. And I know she will be there for she has been for some time pledged to accompany Emmaline.”

“So she has,” Edward agreed gravely. “And you are quite right that there will be much confusion. Anything might be laid to that particular door.” A smile played about his lips before he concluded,

“Yes, tomorrow night should be quite a night before we are through.”

There was another silence and then Edward said carelessly, “I still say it is a pity you and Emmaline could not have made it up between you. But no doubt you will soon forget that you ever might have wed her.”

With a bleakness that even took Edward aback Jeremy replied, “I shall never forget. No, nor cease regretting that by my recklessness I lost the one chance I might have had at true happiness. Oh, don’t mistake me. I mean to be a good husband to Rosalind. I shall owe her that much. And I think we shall even rub along tolerably well together. But with Emmaline—with Emmaline I might have shared something much more.”

“And yet you would see her married to me?” Edward asked with eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Jeremy flung himself to the far corner of the room. “No, damn you, I would not see her married to anyone other than myself. And I tell you now that if you marry her I will never come to your house to see you together. But neither do I wish upon her spinsterhood. If it is marriage with you she wishes, then that is far better. I only ask that if you do come to wed her that you do so when I am far from London. Perhaps I shall take Rosalind to the Continent after we are married and you will have time to court Emmaline.” He paused and anger gave way to the same bleakness as before. “You need only send me a line when the deed is done,” he said, “and it is safe for me to come back to England.”

“Will that be any easier?” Edward asked mildly.

“Once you are wed I shall have no choice but to accept it,” Jeremy replied roughly. “But I would not trust myself not to stop the wedding if I were nearby when it took place. Now go. I mean to drink myself into oblivion and I find I can no longer bear to look at your face.”

To his annoyance, Edward did not rise but instead said mildly, “I’m afraid you are out of luck my friend, for I mean to stay.” At Jeremy’s look of outrage he added innocently, “We have, after all, a great many details to work out, you know. I should prefer to be able to set out tomorrow and take care of everything without constantly having to return here to consult with you.”