The Counterfeit Betrothal (4 page)

Emmaline could not but be aware of how Jeremy stiffened beside her, and her own impulse was to protest. But there was no need. Sir Osbert spoke for them. “No, Gilbert,” he said firmly. “I’ll not have these two rushed into things. The betrothal announcement shall be sent out as quickly as you wish and all the relatives, on both sides, notified. But I’ll not have the date set until these two have had more time to come to know one another.”

“More time to know one another?” Gilbert demanded, his color and voice rising. “But they grew up on neighboring estates and have known one another all their lives!”

“You forget, Gilbert, that by your decree Jeremy has not been by here for some number of years. Moreover, I’ll not have the pair of them bullied into a hurried marriage,” Sir Osbert countered. “I’ve no wish, even if you are indifferent to gossip, to have it bandied about that there was something havey-cavey about the business. You don’t wish it said, do you, that this was a matter of urgency?”

Gilbert halted in midprotest as the meaning of Osbert’s words sank in. After a moment he said, “You are right, of course, old friend. Very well. We shall not yet set the date. But I am sure,” he added, fixing his son with a firm stare, “that my son will wish to spend as much time as possible getting to know, as you put it, his
fiancée
.”

“By all means,” Sir Osbert agreed cordially. “But for now, off with the pair of you. You may call again tomorrow, Jeremy.”

Jeremy bowed, said all that was polite, and took his leave with his father. That unhappy gentleman kept a civil tongue, but even Emmaline could guess he would have a great deal to say when he reached home.

4

Over
the next several days, Emmaline had to endure the delight of her father’s entire staff over her impending marriage, even as her own uneasiness grew, an uneasiness she had no explanation for. Jeremy came to call every day and he was attentive and amusing, and yet she could not help but feel that something was wrong.

Mrs. Bailey, however, was in raptures as she said, “
Such
a handsome face! And such excellent manners. You must be so happy, Miss Emmaline. And may I say we are all so happy as well to know that you will soon be settled so comfortably.”

Emmaline toyed with the tassle of a curtain as she said, “Yes, well thank you, Mrs. Bailey. But there is no question of an immediate wedding, you know. Not so long as Papa—”

“Oh, go on with you,” Mrs. Bailey scoffed. “As though your father would allow that to interfere. I happen to know he has already spoken with Dr. Farley, who said that there would be time to send for you should your papa take a turn for the worse while you were on your honeymoon. And Mrs. Colton has offered to come and look in upon your father every day if he wishes. Once you’re married.”

“Mrs. Colton is a dear lady and has been good to us,” Emmaline said with a smile, “but she is scarcely out of mourning for her own husband. How I can I ask her to take on such a task as that?”

Mrs. Bailey sniffed. “You wouldn’t have to ask her to take it on. She’s already offered.”

With a hint of desperation in her voice Emmaline said, “Yes, well, we shan’t need that just yet. Neither Mr. Barnett nor I are quite prepared to set the date of our wedding.”

“Aye, but that will change in a few days or weeks, you’ll see.” Mrs. Bailey nodded her head wisely. “Gentlemen
always
become impatient. P’rhaps that’s the gentleman’s carriage I hear.”

To Emmaline’s relief—a sensation that did not auger well for the future—it was not Jeremy’s curricle the housekeeper had heard but her sister’s. “Caroline?” she said with some surprise a few minutes later. “I am delighted to see you, but this is very unexpected.”

A trifle breathless, Caroline stepped into the parlor, stripping off her gloves as she did so. She kissed Emmaline upon the cheek and then sat beside her on the sofa. “Oh, Emmy, I had to come and see you. Is it true you are to marry Jeremy Barnett?”

Avoiding her sister’s eyes, Emmaline said, “Why, yes, are you not pleased for me?”

“No!” Caroline said vehemently. At Emmaline’s startled look she possessed herself of both her sister’s hands and said, “I know you have always had a fondness for him, Emmaline, and I know that in spite of everything anyone may say he is still the most eligible
parti
hereabouts and I ought to be very happy for your sake, but I am not. Not unless he has spoken to you of love. Has he?”

“N-no,” Emmaline admitted slowly. Then she asked, bewildered, “But how can you disapprove? Wasn’t your own betrothal to Frederick much the same? I don’t recall that he spoke of love, though we all knew you loved him. Didn’t you feel the same astonished happiness when he offered for you?”

It was Caroline’s turn to look away. She took a deep breath, then said, “I see I must tell you the whole sordid story.”

And so she did. With increasing dismay Emmaline heard a tale of love on her sister’s part paired with contempt and increasing desertion by her husband. What had begun as a light affair when Caroline had been pregnant with her first child had become a way of life for Frederick. Indeed, he scarcely bothered to treat her with civility anymore.

“Surely it cannot be as bad as that?” Emmaline protested, appalled when her sister was done.

“It is far worse, I assure you,” Caroline countered. “Frederick never wished to marry me; it was his mother’s wish. He is forever telling me so. Oh, Emmaline, there are times when I think I cannot bear it. But what choice do I have? Only I could not bear to think you might repeat my mistake and I felt I must warn you. If I am mistaken and your betrothal to Jeremy is not as mine was to Frederick, then I beg you to forgive me. And I pray you will not be angry with me.”

“How could I be angry?” Emmaline asked warmly as she embraced her hapless sister. “I know you have come to try to help me.”

“Then you will think about what I have said?” Caroline demanded.

“I will think about what you have said,” Emmaline assured her. “But what are we to do about you?”

“Nothing,” Caroline said quietly.

“But Papa would never stand for—” Emmaline began.

“Papa’s
health
would never stand for him to know the truth,” Caroline broke in wearily. “And you needn’t think it would do any good for you to speak to Frederick. He only laughs when his own mother tells him he is behaving terribly toward me. No, I am trapped, but you need not be.”

When her sister left shor
tl
y thereafter, Emmaline went upstairs, determined to beard her father.

Not quite certain of how to begin, she spoke somewhat hesitantly. “Papa, will you tell me what is really afoot? Why Jeremy proposed to me.”

Sir Osbert tried to evade her eyes. “What do you mean, child?” he asked querulously. “The boy wishes to marry you, you wish to marry him, what more is there to say?”

“A great deal,” she countered. “I believed this—this Banbury tale at first, that he had come to care for me. But somehow I begin to wonder now, and I mean to have the truth. Did circumstances or Lord Barnett compel Jeremy to ask for my hand?”

“Do you think Lord Barnett, or anyone for that matter, could compel that young man to do something he did not wish to do?” Sir Osbert asked with mock amazement.

“Yes,” Emmaline retorted bluntly. “I like Lord Barnett but a more ruthless man I have never met. And however determined Jeremy may be, we all know that he is vulnerable to Lord Barnett’s commands because he is forever short of funds—if half the gossip that reaches us is to be believed. Indeed, I have no doubt that is precisely the reason Lord Barnett refuses to settle any property on his son.”

“Very well.” Osbert sighed. “I shall tell you the truth. But I want no missishness from you, do you hear? Gilbert has threatened to cut Jeremy off without a penny, while he is alive, if he does not marry—and soon. Gilbert even suggested you as a suitable bride.”

“I see,” Emmaline said thoughtfully. “And yet you told me to accept him.”

“I told you to do as your heart bid you. This changes nothing,” Osbert protested angrily. “Some of the best marriages are arranged. Your mother’s and mine was. And Jeremy did agree to it without, I thought, any evidence of distaste.”

“So he did,” Emmaline conceded with a complaisance that made her father wary. “As did I.”

“Please give the notion a chance,” Sir Osbert begged her. “I want very much to see you settled before I die, and it’s no use telling me I won’t die soon. For all the nonsense that fool of a doctor tells me, I know the truth.”

For a long moment Emmaline was silent. “Very well,” she said at last, hiding her disquiet, “I shall give it a chance.”

“Good!” Osbert said emphatically. “That is all I ask. Now have them send up my lunch.”

“Of course, Papa,” she said as she kissed his brow. Then, very thoughtful, she went to do as he had bid.

* * *

It would be too much to say that Jeremy Barnett was pleased with the situation in which he found himself, but he was determined to make the best of it. To his delight he discovered that Miss Delwyn possessed far more sensible conversation than most of the chits he had met in London. He had forgotten the fine mind that had listened to and grasped all the things he had explained to her when they were both children. True, she leaned toward a self-assurance that led her often to disagree with him, but that was a welcome relief from young ladies who echoed everything he said, and should it become bothersome, surely such contrariness could be altered in time. Moreover, now that she had accepted his proposal, Miss Delwyn expended far more thought and energy upon her appearance. All in all, he thought she would do. If he had to marry.

So Jeremy sent the announcement of his betrothal to the London papers and tried to ignore the panic that threatened, from time to time, to overwhelm him. Scarcely to his surprise, within the week his best friend, Edward Hastings, appeared on his doorstep. He arrived as Jeremy was about to climb into his own curricle to take Emmaline out for a drive. Instead, Jeremy watched the phaeton pulled by two neatly matched grays draw to a halt at the front steps of Barnett Hall. “Edward!” he cried as he went to meet his friend. “How delightful to see you, you old devil!”

Hastings handed the reins over to his diminutive tiger and then raised his quizzing glass in a gesture more foppish than any Jeremy had ever adopted. After regarding his good friend for several seconds and noting the twinkle in Jeremy’s eyes, he drawled, “Odd, you don’t look as though you have taken leave of your senses.”

“I have not,” Jeremy replied cheerfully.

“Then what,” Hastings demanded, “is the meaning of that absurd notice in the
Gazette
?”

“Ah, that.” Jeremy nodded wisely. “I am getting married.”

Hastings appeared to stagger. “So I was right: you have taken leave of your senses.”

Jeremy laughed. “No, I have not, as I will prove to you shortly. In fact, why don’t you come with me and meet Emmaline? Hargraves can take care of your luggage.”

“Very well,” Hastings said with a deep sigh. “If I must meet this creature, I must.”

Jeremy only laughed again and steered his friend to the curricle. “I shan’t be needing you after all,” he told his groom. “Stand away from their heads.” As the groom stepped back, the chestnuts pulled neatly away down the drive and Jeremy began to explain. “Now mind, Edward, I’ve no desire for anyone else to know what I’m about to tell you. That wouldn’t look good for either Emmaline or me. But you may as well know the truth. M’father called me home, as I told you in London he had, and as we suspected, he had heard about that bit at Covent Gardens. Well, when I arrived, m’father informed me that either I marry—at once—or he intended to cut off my allowance. Not diminish it, mind you, but cut it off entirely and make it difficult for me to go to the penny-a-pound men for a loan.”

“You were in a bind,” Hastings agreed sympathetically, all trace of affectation gone now. “And Miss, er, Delwyn is to be the blushing bride? How did they compel her to agree? Has she a squint or something?”

Jeremy laughed uncomfortably. “Nothing of the sort. We have known one another for years, and like her father, she has had an affection for me, I suppose.”

“I see. So all is bliss?” Hastings suggested.

“Not precisely,” Jeremy said after a moment’s hesitation.

“What is it?” Edward asked quietly. “Is she vulgar? Or something of a peagoose with not two thoughts to rub together in her head?”

There was a longer hesitation this time before Jeremy replied. “On the contrary. Emmaline is exceedingly well bred. And intelligent. She can converse on any subject you might choose and has a great deal of common sense.”

“Say no more,” Hastings said in a tone of mock horror. “She sounds appalling.”

Irritably Jeremy replied, “Oh, do give over your nonsense, Edward. She is nothing of the sort. In fact, I wager you will like her quite well.
I
like her quite well.”

“Then what is the problem?” Hastings asked.

“I’m not certain I wish to be married at all!” Jeremy blurted out. “In fact, I am quite certain I don’t.”

“Then why did you propose?” Edward asked reasonably.

“Because I thought she would be a timid mouse of a thing, given that she has meekly spend the last several years nursing her father, and I could set her up at Barnett Hall while I went up to London anytime I wished,” Jeremy said in exasperation. “And anyway my father’s threats left me little choice. Would
you
care to have tried to name a respectable young lady of our acquaintance I could have chosen instead?”

“No,” Hastings agreed dryly.

“Unfortunately, now I find that I don’t think it will do. Dash it all, this would have to be a
real
marriage!” Jeremy replied gloomily. “And I doubt very much I am ready for that.”

“Do you mean to back out?” Hastings asked carefully. “It is all the fashion, what with Lady Charlotte renouncing the Prince of Orange.”

“Yes, and look at her father’s reaction to that! Threatening to make her a virtual prisoner if what I hear is to be believed,” Jeremy countered. “No,” he said decisively. “I cannot forget that m’father’s threat still hangs over my head. Besides, I am not such a blackguard as to serve Miss Delwyn a turn like that.”

“My dear boy,” Hastings said, resuming his affectation, “I feel for you!”