by Lucy Langton
“I’m being too forward,” he relented, shaking his head.
“No, no,” Emilia replied. “I’m merely not accustomed to men being so ...” she searched her mind for the proper word.
“Forward,” Joshua replied humorously.
“Perhaps so.”
They continued to dance, and Emilia mused over the mysterious man in front of her, beside her, and all around her, dependent upon where the dance had taken them. There was something rather dangerous about him, she had to admit. And unlike most women, Emilia was never one for dangerous men. What was it exactly that she would describe as dangerous? For one thing, he was devilishly handsome in a fashion that did not seem real to the natural eye. For another thing – and this was the greater cause for suspicion – the Earl of Dennaby was dangerously suave. How could she trust such effortless, practised debonair charm? Emilia assumed that he behaved in a similar fashion with all the ladies that he met, and so she determined that she was going to need to temper her excitement. And it truly was excitement that he made her feel, a kind of internal thrill that was hard to deny.
“Would it offend you if I continued to be forward?” Joshua finally asked.
“If I said yes, I fear that it would not prevent you from being so.”
“You are an expert judge of character,” Joshua replied with an affable smile. “To speak plainly, you’re the most beautiful woman in the room.”
Emilia wished to stop dead in her tracks, but to do so would excite even more attention than she had already done solely by dancing with Lord Joshua Pembroke.
“I find that difficult to believe,” Emilia replied, looking about the room at all the glamorous faces that surrounded her, some more natural than others.
“Your beauty is authentic, as is your nature. I could see it from afar,” Joshua explained.
“That is the result of being a country bumpkin,” Emilia quipped.
“I beg to differ. Ladies from the country can be more disagreeable than those in town.”
“I don’t take you for one who goes to the country often.”
“I have a summer estate. I am civilised, after all.”
“Don’t let’s get into a conversation about civility. I could talk of it all night,” Emilia replied, for truly, she had much to say on the topic of civility, and how too often there wasn’t enough of it.
“If I may discourse on your beauty again,” Joshua said, changing the topic.
“You are allowed to do as you choose,” Emilia replied.
“Nothing tempers beauty more than frivolity. I knew instantly that you were a self-contained woman. This keeps all the beauty intact.”
“I am not a marble monument,” Emilia replied with a laugh.
“No, but if you were mine, I would have a monument made of your likeness.”
Just then, the dance ended, and it was expert timing. For whatever reason, Emilia felt like running from the room. It was hard to understand why. The handsomest man she had ever beheld had just remarked upon her beauty, her composure, and even stated that he wished to have her immortalised in alabaster stone. Any woman would have melted right then and there, but not Emilia Grey. She felt exposed, overly stimulated, and mildly distrustful.
“I thank you for a lovely dance,” Emilia said, curtseying and quickly rushing away from the dance floor.
“Farewell,” Joshua replied affably, not seemingly fazed in the slightest that she was running away from him.
She needed fresh air. Having seen a veranda off the dining room, Emilia rushed there, pushed open the door, and took a step out into the cool night. Taking a deep breath, Emilia could finally feel her heart beginning to slow from its rapid pace.
Once Emilia felt significantly composed, she decided that the best plan for the rest of the evening was to return to the party, meet new people, enjoy the delicious food, and try to keep her mind off Joshua Pembroke. It amused her to think that she might see him, yet again, on the dance floor, talking to another lady as he had just spoken to her. Yes, he was nothing but a womanizer, perhaps even a rake. Emilia found that if she kept her mind fixed on this notion, the extraordinary, incendiary things that Joshua had made her feel would leave her mind, and her body.
Sadly, every time that Lord Joshua caught her eye, he was not flirting with another.
“I saw you dancing with Lord Joshua Pembroke,” Lady Constance said, approaching in much the same way as she had before.
“I fear that everyone did,” Emilia replied.
“Why do you fear it?”
“He’s not the type of man that I’m accustomed to.”
“He’s not the type of man that anyone is accustomed to.”
Lady Constance’s response was further proof that Emilia’s assumptions about Lord Joshua might, indeed, be correct. His manner must be notorious to the ton. Although she wished to investigate the issue further, Emilia didn’t desire to be caught as a newly outed lady asking endless questions about the man with whom she shared her first dance.
And so, as was Emilia’s nature, she let the whole notion go and enjoyed the rest of the evening. She continued to chat with Lady Constance who, indeed, had a sour tongue; as Roderick had reported. Comically, the conversation began as light and frivolous, but the more that Lady Constance opened up, the more the venom boiled to the surface. She made fun of various dresses, scorned her cooks for making such terrible food, and bemoaned that there were a few questionable guests who had attended uninvited. Once she was done venting her dislike for various and sundry things, Lady Constance excused herself and found a new ear to complain to.
So, her brother was a good judge of character.
Remembering that she had abandoned Roderick for some time, Emilia looked around the room in order to locate him. Although he was sad and lowly before, she caught him in conversation with a gaggle of ladies who had brought a smile to his face. It brought a smile to Emilia’s face as well. It was so much more fitting to see Roderick happy. Maybe the night’s entertainment had made him forget about Lady Marina Spencer. Emilia sincerely hoped so.
***
In an adjacent drawing room, Lord Joshua Pembroke sat with his legs crossed and his hands clasped upon his knees. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the collection of lords and ladies that had assembled around him, each partaking in conversation that he knew was meant to impress him. Sadly, Lord Joshua was not impressed, but he kept the amused smile upon his lips, nonetheless.
The warm smile mostly came from the memory of dancing with Lady Emilia Grey. In the end, he thought that he had had a favourable effect on her, but indeed, had been too forward. She ran away from him in such a way to suggest that she was not used to Joshua’s manner of attention. Although it pained him to think that he drove her off, what choice did he have? When he had affections, there was no denying it, neither to himself nor the lady in question.
“Lord Joshua, do tell us of your grand tour,” a mousy lady by the name of Cecily asked. Her dress was a shocking pink and it nearly burned Lord Joshua’s eyes to look at.
“My travels left me wanting nothing,” Joshua assured her. “Never have I seen such splendour as the canals of Venice, the grand palaces of Vienna, nor the great mountains of Switzerland.”
“I’m envious of your travels,” a gentleman replied.
“It is my great passion,” Lord Joshua said casually, and although he was holding court over their rapt attention, he was speaking the truth. “I’m planning another trip soon.”
“Where will you go?” Lady Cecily asked.
Perhaps, wherever Lady Emilia Grey should happen to be.
Chapter 3
Although Emilia was successful at temporarily banishing the earl from her thoughts, it was during the carriage ride home that he managed to creep back into her mind. She looked over at her brother, who was seated across from her, and momentarily Emma considered telling him about Lord Joshua. But surely, if she did so, her brother would tease her to no end and, therefore, Emilia decided to keep
the earl within the confines of her own thoughts.
She did delight in recalling the things he had said to her, the way he had danced, and that charming look in his eye. The very thought of him made her blush, and Emilia was grateful for the dark interior of the coach so that her brother could not see.
Only once in Emilia’s life had a man made her feel that way upon first meeting him. Oddly enough, it was a stable boy by the name of Gregory who had been hired to look after the horses at their country estate. Uncle Stanley had hired the boy, but Emma could scarce call him a boy because, for her, he looked more like a man. He had the earl’s dark handsomeness and relaxed, debonair manner. The moment that Emilia met Gregory, she felt her heart pound in her chest, and all kinds of sensations came over her that she could not explain. Emilia had become frightened by the titillation that Gregory would make her feel when he ever spoke to her with his deep voice.
When Gregory had helped Emilia onto her horse, uncle Stanley spotted the stable boy gently placing a hand upon her knee and the stable boy was fired at once. The time that Gregory had spent at the country estate had been brief, but Emma still recalled that spinning feeling he had given her.
Lord Joshua Pembroke had made her feel all those feelings once more, perhaps more intensely.
“Did you enjoy yourself, brother?” Emilia asked, wishing to make small talk in order to distract herself.
“I was amused, at times,” Roderick replied, looking out of the window.
“Lady Constance Belmore was everything that you described her to be,” Emilia said with a smile.
“Her manner is notorious, but at least she knows how to throw a good party.”
“Do you think that I...presented myself in a proper manner?” Emilia asked.
“I think you made a lasting impression, yes,” Roderick replied. “Particularly when you danced with the Earl of Dennaby.”
Emilia was struck dumb for a moment. She was hoping that her brother wouldn’t bring up the earl, and from the tone of his voice, it seemed as though he was not pleased.
“It was merely one dance. He seemed like an interesting gentleman.” Roderick looked at his sister and lifted his brow, as though she was hiding something from him.
“Let’s not speak more of it, brother. I’m terribly tired.”
“Yes, I’m sure that you’re exhausted, sister. That’s why you’ll be up all night discussing Lord Joshua with Gina.” Roderick smiled a wide, playful grin.
“That’s a lie!” Emilia protested, thinking that there wasn’t a chance she’d be talking with her gossiping maid for the rest of the evening. And if they were going to talk, it certainly wasn’t going to be about Lord Joshua Pembroke.
The rest of the carriage ride was undertaken in silence, and Emilia was glad for it. It was too late for her brother’s teasing. But to her dismay, once they arrived back at the townhouse, Emilia went straight to her room and encountered Gina there, and she had to hold back the urge to talk about what her brother predicted that she would talk about.
“Did you have a lovely time, Ma’am?” Gina asked.
“There were certainly many interesting people there.”
“Anyone in particular that was of interest?”
Gina was middling in age, short in stature, and prematurely grey-haired. She helped to undo Emilia’s curls and gown whilst they spoke.
Emilia wanted to answer the question honestly, that she had danced with the Earl of Dennaby and now she couldn’t tear him from her mind. If there was anyone she could talk to it was Gina. And so, despite denying her brother’s prediction, Emilia went ahead and gave into his assumptions.
“Lord Joshua Pembroke,” Emilia replied, anxiously awaiting her response.
“My word,” the maid replied, still pulling pins from Emilia’s hair.
“Do you know anything of him?” Emilia asked, for although Gina was a lowly maid, she knew a thing or two about London society. She was always a gossip, and every once in a while, Emilia enjoyed indulging in that fact.
“Do I know anything about the Earl of Dennaby?” Gina asked, as though she were insulted. “Of course I know all that there is to know about him.”
Emilia, in shock, turned around to face Gina, and noted a look of disgust on her maid’s face.
“You don’t seem pleased,” Emilia replied.
“I fear that I shall need to procure tea in order to explain things fully,” Gina said. It was common knowledge that Gina was unable to gossip if she didn’t have a cup of tea in hand.
“Perhaps it is too late for this discussion,” Emilia said, thinking that she had opened a door that could never be boarded up and shut.
“It’s never too late for this kind of discussion,” Gina said mischievously and went at once to summon a servant to bring the tea. Emilia resigned herself to her maid’s gossiping ways and seated herself by the window, comfortably wrapped in her sleeping costume.
“Where do I begin?” Gina said, pouring the tea and seating herself across from her mistress.
“Wherever you like,” Emilia said.
“It does not surprise me in the least that you were approached by Lord Joshua Pembroke.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re beautiful, for one thing,” Gina said, taking a sip of her tea, “and for another, Lord Joshua is a born and bred approacher.”
Emilia brought a hand up to her face in order to conceal her laughter.
“There’s nothing funny about it,” Gina went on. “Now that you’ve entered into society, it’s high time that you screwed your head straight upon your shoulders.”
“I’m open to what you have to say,” Emilia said, relenting.
In truth, Emilia knew as well as anyone that to be spoken to by a woman of Gina’s standing in such a way was highly inappropriate. And yet, considering that Emilia did not have a proper mother and father, the behaviour was more or less accepted. What’s more, Emilia found Gina to be delightfully funny in her seriousness.
“He is notorious as being one of the most handsome men in London,” Gina continued, folding her hands in her lap, “and also, one of the richest,” she added, lifting her brow.
“Of his finances, I’m not the least interested.”
“Well, perhaps you’re the only girl in society that would say such a thing. I’m told that he’s followed everywhere he goes by ladies hoping to gain his attention...and his gold.”
Emilia tried to suppress the laughter but found that she could not. A little squeal escaped.
“The Earl of Dennaby is notorious for being temperamental and unfriendly, to boot. It’s not uncommon for men with that classification of wealth to be so. The reason is, they think that because they’re so rich, they’re allowed to behave in any way that they choose.”
“I have met fellows of that character as well,” Emilia admitted.
“So, you must have spotted this behaviour in the earl instantly.”
Emilia thought back upon the encounter and came to the conclusion that she did not. He seemed haughty at times, and yes, too forward, but he was never temperamental.
“There is a rumour,” Gina said, carrying on, “that he once threw a plate at the prince regent.”
“Oh, come now,” Emilia protested.