The Counterfeit Betrothal (6 page)

It was Jeremy who abruptly pulled away and turned his back on Emmaline. For what seemed an eternity there was only the sound of their breath coming in broken gasps. Eventually he said, his voice mocking her cruelly, “So, my dear, I had mistaken you. You are not quite the frightened virgin I thought. If it is not fear of what awaits you in our marriage bed that has caused you to break our betrothal, then will you do me the courtesy to tell me what has?”

Emmaline also turned away, not trusting herself to look at him. Her training cried out at how she had forgotten all propriety. With an effort Jeremy could not have guessed at, she forced herself to laugh. She would
not
let him see how much he meant to her. “I
have
told you, sir. I realized that I had mistaken my mind. Once I was naive
enough to
believe I felt a
tendre
for you and now I have outgrown it.”

“Indeed?” His voice still mocked her. “And do you then make a habit of kissing men that way? I warn you it is a dangerous habit.”

Unable to stop herself, Emmaline whirled to face him and cried out, “And do you, sir, make a habit of—of forcing your attentions upon well-bred, defenseless young women in inns?”

A cold, harsh look came over Jeremy’s face and he bowed. “Forgive me, Miss Delwyn. I had not guessed my attentions were so distasteful to you. I shall take myself away from you at once, and you may follow as soon as you are ready. A word of advice, however. If you do not wish gentlemen to kiss you as I did, then you ought not to agree to be alone with them.” As Emmaline gasped in outrage he added contemptuously, “Nor should you put your arms about their necks and respond in kind. A slap across the face is generally considered a far more effective deterrent.”

And then he was gone, the door to the parlor closing behind him with a distinct bang. Hastily Emmaline tried to control her agitation before anyone came to look for her. She had scarcely succeeded in doing so when Mary rapped at the door and then, poking in her head, said timidly, “The gentlemen said to tell you the carriages are ready and the hour is growing late.”

“Thank you,” Emmaline said with a calm she did not feel. “I shall be right there.”

7

Mrs. Hastings was generally held to be an amiable woman except when it came to her children; she could be truly formidable when aroused and she allowed no interference in their affairs save her own. Indeed, one of the joys of launching her daughter and nieces into the
ton
had been the opportunity to mold their characters to her satisfaction, though always with a certain kindness, of course.

Mrs. Hastings was well liked, however, for her many kindnesses to shy hostesses or anyone who turned to her for advice. While long accustomed to moving in the first circles, she was never so high in the instep as to be above enjoying her company. And although she certainly expected people to listen politely to what she said, she did not demand that they always agree with her notions.

When Edward Hastings asked his mother that she invite Miss Delwyn to London to stay with them, Mrs. Hastings had genially agreed. No doubt the child would require some direction before she was up to the mark. More important than this, however, was the knowledge of her son’s interest in the woman. Mrs. Hastings had no desire to
be presented
with a future daughter-in-law she had not herself approved, and while Miss Delwyn was supposed to be betrothed to Jeremy Barnett, that was information she found difficult to believe.

None of this showed on Mrs. Hastings’ face, however, as she received the three young people when they arrived at her London town house, tired and a bit wet from the late afternoon rain that had caught up with them a few miles earlier. Her saloon was decorated in the latest fashion. Green and gold wallpaper was paired with Egyptian furniture, which had legs in the shape of exotic animals. The afternoon being still dark from the recent storm, the candles had already been set out, and their flickering shadows gave the room an even more fantastic look. Mrs. Hastings noted with satisfaction that Emmaline stared about her with patent awe.

Nothing could have exceeded the kindness or good nature Mrs. Hastings showed as she said, “Edward, how good to have you home again. Barnett, I do not stand upon ceremony with you. Congratulations. This is, I collect, Miss Emmaline Delwyn. How do you do, my dear? How was your journey?” Then, without waiting for an answer, she went on, “I am delighted to have you. But please, everyone, sit down. No, no, closer to the fire, Jeremy, to dry out a bit. And you as well, Edward.”

Emmaline murmured a greeting, too overwhelmed to know quite what to say. Hastings was more frank. “You’ve redone the rooms again, Mama. And in such an inconspicuous way!” he said with blatant irony. “And in scarcely a week. You must have had the workmen at it day and night.”

“So I did,” she agreed with a complacent laugh. “I meant it to be a surprise. Not only for you but for one of my bosom bows who returns to London the day after tomorrow. Do you like it? Or do you find it absurd as Arthur does?”

“Both!” he answered with a laugh of his own. “And I am delighted to see you in such excellent looks, as always, Mama. That is a new gown, I collect?”

Mrs. Hastings happily smoothed the green satin of her skirt as she answered her son. “Well, Edward, the room is quite
comme il faut,
and I thought I ought to be as well. That meant I had to have a few new gowns to match. You will surely admit the need of that?”

“I’ll admit nothing of the sort,” he retorted good-naturedly. “You just like to buy clothes.”

“But I shall admit the need of it, if you like,” Jeremy interjected gallantly. “Though I fancy Edward meant that you would always be
comme il faut
no matter what you wore.” He paused then added, “I presume that the gown came from Mademoiselle Suzette.”

Mrs. Hastings cast a shrewd eye upon her guest. “Want me to take Miss Delwyn there, do you? I’d already planned on doing so. She has superb taste, works quickly, possesses exquisite discretion, and knows how to conceal the gravest flaws in one’s figure. Not that that will be a concern with Miss Delwyn,” she added, running an expert eye over the girl. “I’d advise a lighter color than the dark blue of her pelisse, however, though the rose gown she is wearing will do well enough. For mornings at home alone, at any rate. My dear, who has had a hand in dressing you?”

“No one save myself,” Emmaline answered frankly. “My mother died some years ago and there has been no one else to do so. And, indeed, even I have been hard-pressed to spare the time to look to the matter properly.”

“Well, I mean to take you in hand,” Mrs. Hastings said kindly. “And soon we shall have you turned out in the latest style.”

“Good,” Jeremy said frankly. “I shall want my, er,
fiancée
to have the best of everything. You need not worry, Sir Osbert and not I will be responsible for the bills, which means they will be paid.”

Mrs. Hastings raised an eyebrow but made no protest. Instead she turned to Emmaline and said kindly, “No doubt we ought to ask what you would wish, Miss Delwyn. Both Jeremy and I are inclined to ride roughshod over anyone who does not protest. Do you mind?”

With a self-possession she did not entirely feel, Emmaline replied, “How could I? I am very grateful to be able to place myself in your hands, Mrs. Hastings. This is my first visit to London and I cannot pretend that I have the knowledge to choose a
modiste
for myself.”

“Very neatly said.” Mrs. Hastings nodded approvingly. “Modest, a beauty, and an heiress. Even if you are already betrothed, I think you shall do very well, indeed. But enough of that. How is your father?”

“As well as can be expected,” Emmaline replied. “Do you know him?”

“I did,” Mrs. Hastings said with a smile. “That was when we were all in our salad days, of course. Not that he spent long in London before he married your mother and bore her off to a house in the country. Catherine Kendrick was her name, as I recall. But while he was here, Lord what a fuss Delwyn kicked up! Ripe for any mischief and such a superb dancer.”

While Emmaline tried to reconcile this image of her father with the man she knew, Mrs. Hastings had turned her attention back to Jeremy. “You will be coming to call tomorrow, I presume? And you will be escorting us to any events we attend?” To Emmaline’s surprise he laughed. “From your expression, my dear Mrs. Hastings, I collect you presume nothing of the sort. Instead you mean to recall me to my duty. But you need not, you know. I mean to be a model
fiancé
and escort my betrothed everywhere I am expected to. Does that reassure you?”

“It might,” she retorted amiably, “if I did not know you so well, Mr. Barnett. The more tame you appear, the more suspicious I become. But there, I don’t mean to chide you. Will you stay to dinner?”

Lazily Jeremy rose to his feet. “Alas, I regret that I cannot. Edward and I are pledged elsewhere and I must take my leave of you, but I shall come round in the morning.”

Mrs. Hastings shook her head decisively. “No, come in the afternoon, Jeremy. I mean to take Miss Delwyn to Mademoiselle Suzette’s directly we’ve finished breakfast tomorrow. She’ll know what will suit the girl, and I promise to rely upon her judgment. And you, Edward? I suppose it’s no use asking if you’ll be home before dawn. I vow we see less of you now than when you were off at school.”

With a laugh her son dutifully kissed her cheek and took his farewell with Jeremy. As soon as they were safely gone, Mrs. Hastings moved to the seat next to Emmaline and, clasping her hands together in her lap, said kindly, “Now my dear, you must tell me everything so that I shall know how best to help you. Should you like to make an appearance at Court? Dance at Almack’s? Go to an endless round of parties and routs and breakfasts? Or do you wish for a quiet visit and a chance to purchase those things you will need as a bride?”

“I should like to go to parties and dance and shop,” Emmaline admitted wistfully. “For I have had very little chance to do any of those things until now. But I do not wish to be a trouble to you.”

“Modesty is an excellent trait,” Mrs. Hastings said dryly, “but with me you may be as selfish as you choose, and as frank, for I tell you I shall enjoy nothing more than to take you out and about everywhere and listen to any confidences you may wish to share. I assure you I shall enjoy it all! Yes, we must give you a taste of all that London and the
ton
has to offer. But now, you must tell me how you did it. You must tell me how you have managed to snare the
ton’s
most elusive young man and its most cynical one. Are you a sorceress?”

Emmaline laughed. “Would that I were!” she replied. “No, you must give credit where it is due. This was a betrothal arranged by our parents.”

Mrs. Hastings’ eyebrows rose in astonishment. “Arranged by your parents? Good God, I had not thought Jeremy could be commanded by anyone. It is a pity, however. I had hoped that Jeremy’s heart had at last been won. Still, a good many mothers will breathe easier knowing he cannot break their daughters’ hearts.”

“Has he really such a horrid reputation?” Emmaline asked shyly. “I hoped the reports we had back home were exaggerated.”

“Not a bit of it!” Mrs. Hastings answered tartly. “My dear, I do not believe that anyone should enter marriage blindly, and I think it very wrong of your father to allow you such missish dreams about Jeremy. Particularly as even at Selborne you must have heard of his escapades.”

Mrs. Hastings paused and her expression softened as she went on, “My dear Miss Delwyn, I do not wish you to think Jeremy a bad bargain. Yes, I wish you to know his reputation, but I also wish you to know that I have often thought Jeremy driven by a devil that love would banish. I have known him to be generous and kind and thoughtful. More so than most young men his age. But never when there is anyone else about to see, if he can help it. It is almost as though he cherishes his reputation as an incorrigible fellow.”

“I see,” Emmaline said quietly. “No doubt you will find it strange, but I know very little of my
fiancé
even though Jeremy and I have known one another since I was a small child. These past few years, you see, my father has been ill and his father forbade him to visit us so long ... so long as he could not give a good account of himself. And now our betrothal seems very sudden to me.”

Mrs. Hastings nodded wisely. “That’s often the way of it.” She paused and said shrewdly, “Having regrets, my dear?”

Emmaline straightened her shoulders even though she was unable to meet her hostess’s eyes.
“You would be a fool not to,” Mrs. Hastings said bluntly. “Not one member of the
ton
would blame you if you broke off this betrothal, though I grant you the gossip would be some time in dying away.” Still Emmaline did not reply. As though she understood perfectly, Mrs. Hastings patted Emmaline’s hands. “Never mind. Time will tell. Who knows, you may be the one to tame the boy. Now come and tell me about your father. How is his health?”

It required all of Emmaline’s strength to be able to reply quietly, “The doctor tells me it is a matter of months before my father dies. Perhaps you will think I should be at his side; that is my own opinion. But he begged me to come to London, and as the doctor said any upset might be fatal I could not argue. There is a neighbor, Mrs. Colton, who has known our family for years. She will look in upon my father every day and both she and the doctor have promised to send word at once should he take a turn for the worse.”

“Sensibly said, my dear,” Mrs. Hastings told Emmaline approvingly. “No doubt the knowledge his daughter is happily betrothed and enjoying herself in London will serve as a tonic to your father.” She paused, then added shrewdly, “And should you have second thoughts, well, you are too far away for your father to read them on your, face. He will die happy. But enough of that. It is plain to me that I am distressing you. Come upstairs and see the charming room I have had prepared for you! It was used to belong to my daughter but she is married and now I keep it for my most charming young guests. My dear, I am so looking forward to spoiling you!”

Had he been able to overhear Mrs. Hastings, Jeremy Barnett would not have been displeased. If that lady chose to favor Emmaline with her approval, she would have the
entree
everywhere—for there were few people who would have the courage not to invite Mrs. Hastings and her
protégé
to their parties. She was lively and amusing, and if her tongue was occasionally a trifle sharp, one credited that to judgment and not malice. Moreover, not the harshest critic could have faulted the attractiveness of the lady. And as her husband, Mr. Hastings, was also a general favorite, invitations of all sorts always crowded the mantelpiece in their home. Mr. Hastings greatly preferred his clubs and other male pursuits to
ton
parties, but no one held it against Mrs
.
Hastings that she often attended alone or in the company of friends, both male and female. In another woman this might have given rise to gossip, but Mrs. Hastings was far too upright for that. She was, one might have said, the perfect choice to launch a young lady upon her social career.

Jeremy said something of the sort as they made their way to White’s later that evening.

“And that is why I suggested it,” Edward replied bluntly. “M’mother will know how to take Miss Delwyn in hand and introduce her about even if she is betrothed to you.”

“Ought I to take that as an insult?” Jeremy asked his friend evenly.

“How can you?” Edward retorted. “You’ve spent the last eight years doing nothing but trying to prove you’re the wildest fellow in London. It ain’t your fault you didn’t succeed. But to complain to me now of your reputation would be the outside of enough!”

“I have been wild, haven’t I?” Jeremy said thoughtfully. “Well, my father is determined to change that and I begin to wonder if perhaps he isn’t right.”