by Mary Nichols
Neither could she deny her brother the satisfaction of claiming his inheritance. She could not win either way. It was like living on a knife edge, made worse by unrequited love and the knowledge that Mrs Morton could denounce her whenever she chose. She was lucky that the lady did not seem to be part of the Besthorpes’ close circle of friends; Emma had not seen her since the night of the ball.
What she would have liked to have done was discuss it all with Teddy, but Teddy was miles away in Suffolk. There was only one other person she could trust and that was Lucy. She would tell her the whole story and ask her what she ought to do just as soon as she returned to the house.
Lucy and Dominic, resplendent in court clothes, had gone in the carriage to Carlton House to witness Princess Charlotte’s wedding, leaving Emma and several of the servants to make their way on foot to a vantage point on the corner of The Mall and Horseguards. Here they hoped to catch a glimpse of the bridegroom arriving and, after the ceremony, the newlyweds leaving for their honeymoon.
The crowds were wildly excited, pushing and shoving and craning their necks to get the best possible view. Some had even managed to climb on to roofs and lamp standards. Hanging on to each other’s hands so as not to be separated, Emma, Rose and Lisa, allowed themselves to be pushed along by the seething mass; there was no way they could force themselves against the tide.
As Prince Leopold’s carriage and its outriders passed through the gates of Carlton House, the crowds cheered, waved and shouted ‘Good Luck!’ They loved the princess a great deal more than they did her father, whom they preferred to ridicule, and she had defied him to marry the man she loved.
Emma found herself comparing the sight of the guests’ carriages with the lavish ceremonies she had witnessed in India, ceremonies with highly ornamented elephants plodding in the dusty heat, bearing princes and princesses in the curtained howdahs on their backs, followed by a retinue of armed horsemen, carts carrying goodness knows what regal paraphernalia and servants on foot, stretching for miles behind them. She sighed. There was nothing to see here after all and the crowds were thinning out. ‘Let’s go home,’ she said to the other two. ‘I don’t think we shall see any more.’
The sooner she spoke to Lucy, the better.
The wedding ceremony had been magnificent, Lucy told her that evening. The princess had been radiant in a silver tinsel gown with diamond roses in her hair. She had walked between the ranks of dukes, duchesses, bishops, ambassadors and high-ranking army and navy officers on the arm of her father to where her bridegroom stood waiting for her at the altar in skin-tight white pantaloons and dove-grey coat, rainbow-hued with medals and orders, his dress sword hanging at his side in its jewelled scabbard.
‘He was so handsome,’ Lucy said, with a sigh. ‘You had only to see the way they looked at each other and smiled, to know they are truly in love. And the tears were pouring down the Regent’s face, especially when the princess dropped a deep curtsy to him after the ceremony and he raised her up and took her into his arms. Oh, it was so romantic.’
Emma was helping Lucy dress ready for a ball being given by the Mountforests. Ostensibly it was to celebrate the wedding of the princess, but Sophie had made no secret of the fact that later in the evening her father would make the official announcement of her engagement to Dominic. It did not really need announcing, everyone knew of it, but Sophie, who had been deprived of her opportunity to shine at Lucy’s come-out ball, wanted to make a glittering occasion of it to show off that diamond. None of her friends had been given a ring anything like as valuable.
Emma was glad she had not been invited; it would have broken her heart to watch them, and the felicitations, which she would be obliged to offer, would have stuck in her throat.
Lucy was sitting on a stool before the mirror in a white satin gown trimmed with silk rosebuds over which she had fastened a cotton cape which protected it while Emma brushed her hair. The brushing slowed as Emma considered how to begin her tale and the more she thought about it, the more difficult it became.
Lucy was too young to be able to advise her and it was not fair to put such a burden upon her. She would only say ‘Tell Dominic.’ But how could she speak to his lordship? How could she intrude on his happiness and admit she had lied to him and then expect him to get her out of the fix she was in? He would not do it, especially when he discovered she intended to discredit his future father-in-law. If he had been engaged to anyone but Sophie…
‘What are you dreaming about, Emma?’ Lucy asked as the brushing stopped. ‘Do you wish you could come with us?’
Emma resumed her brushing, more strenuously than she intended which drew a cry of ‘Ouch!’ from Lucy.
‘I am sorry, dear, I did not mean to hurt you. Now, how do you wish me to dress this? à la grecque, don’t you think?’
‘You haven’t answered my question. Shall I ask Dominic if you may come?’
‘Don’t you dare!’
Lucy swivelled round on the stool to peer into Emma’s face. ‘Whatever is the matter?’ When she received no answer, she added, ‘Why, Emma, I do believe you are wearing the willow for my brother…’
‘No, no. You must not say things like that. If he hears it, he will think you are serious. And…’
‘But you are serious, aren’t you?’
‘Don’t be silly, Lucy.’ She spoke sharply. ‘All this talk of weddings and engagements has gone to your head. I simply meant that I am employed here as your maid and companion and you do not need either at the ball tonight. I have already displeased his lordship more than enough…’
‘He is not displeased with you. I certainly hope he is not, because I want you to do something for me.’
‘Oh, no, Lucy, not more mischief! I really cannot indulge it, truly I cannot.’
‘No, it is not mischief. You know Lord Billings has offered for me?’
‘Lord Billings!’ Emma was shocked. ‘But he’s old and fat and he smells. And isn’t he a widower with a young family? Oh, Lucy, surely you are not considering him?’
‘No, I am not. But after my ball, he spoke to Dominic and…’
‘Dominic would never make you…’
Lucy laughed suddenly. ‘Oh, so it is Dominic!’
His Christian name had slipped out so easily and now Emma felt as though her face were on fire. She grabbed a handful of Lucy’s hair and began twisting a string of beads into it. ‘Don’t be a goose, Lucy. And we were talking of you, not me. What does your brother say you should do?’
‘He said it is only courteous to listen to that bumbling old fool…’
‘That rich, bumbling old fool…’
‘What is that to the point? He says I must allow him to offer for me and then if I want to turn him down—which he sincerely hoped I would—I must let him down lightly. He was Papa’s friend, you see, and Dominic, who is too soft-hearted by far, does not want to hurt his feelings. The trouble is, I know I shall not be able to stop myself laughing.’
‘Lucy, you must not do that. It would be so unkind. How would you feel, if it were you being turned down?’
‘You know, you are so exactly like Dominic and not a bit like Sophie, who would have me consent…’
‘Oh, I am sure she would not.’ She secured Lucy’s hair into a topknot with combs and began teasing out a few curls to fall over her ears, glad to have something to do with her hands.
‘She would, then she would have Dominic all to herself and do what she likes with him.’
‘I am persuaded she does that already.’ Emma put down the brush, took off the cape and stood to appraise her handiwork, trying to keep her voice light, but finding it almost impossible.
‘Oh no, he may seem as easygoing as you please, but he would never allow himself to be under the cat’s paw. When he makes up his mind to something, nothing will move him. She will find that out before long, if she has not already done so.’
‘Then what are you in the suds about?’
‘Fergus.’
‘What about Captain O’Connor? And should you make so free with his given name?’
‘You used Dominic’s.’
‘A slip of the tongue. And that does not answer my question. What about the Captain?’
‘I want to marry him.’
‘But you hardly know him.’
‘I know him well enough. He says you don’t have to know someone a lifetime or even be properly introduced to fall in love…’
‘He has spoken to you of it?’
‘Of course. At my ball. We went into the garden. It was raining a little and we went into the gazebo.’
‘Oh, no! I did not see you go.’
‘No, but you were dancing with Dominic and had eyes for no one else. Oh, don’t look so bothered, I only noticed because I know you so well, I am sure no one else was aware of it.’
‘I wish you would not keep prosing on about me, when it is you we are discussing,’ Emma said sharply. ‘Did anyone see you go?’
‘No I don’t think so. We were very careful.’
‘Oh, Lucy, you know that was very wrong of you. Did Captain O’Connor…?’ She stopped, not knowing how to put her fear into words.
‘Fergus was a perfect gentleman,’ Lucy put in, aggrieved. ‘We only went there to talk.’
Emma knew Lucy would not lie to her, but she was still very worried. ‘You said you wanted me to do something for you. If you are planning to run off with Captain O’Connor, I shall refuse point blank to help you and not only that, I shall feel obliged to tell his lordship.’
Lucy laughed. ‘I am not planning any such thing. At least, not unless all else fails. I want you to speak to Dominic on Fergus’s behalf. He has nothing but his captain’s pay and a small allowance from his father, who has an estate in Ireland, but that won’t come to him because he is a second son.’
‘I am sure your brother will think him totally unsuitable, Lucy, and you must know that. I am very sorry, indeed, that I was instrumental in bringing you together.’
‘Oh, no, that was a cricket ball.’
‘And a runaway horse. That was most decidedly my fault. His lordship is unlikely to listen to me, even if I were to agree to do it, which I will not. Captain O’Connor is an adventurer.’
‘He is not! He is a darling man and he loves me very much.’ She was in tears now. ‘I am not asking to marry him tomorrow; he would not have it anyway. He wants to prove himself first. I want you to ask Dominic to help him to find employment. You need not even mention me. Say he is your brother’s friend.’
‘I can’t do that, Teddy has never met him.’
‘Dominic does not know that and your brother is not here to refute it. We were going to do that at my ball if Dominic had not found out, so what is different now?’
‘He will find out again, just as he did before, and I am already in enough trouble with him without adding to it. No, Lucy, I cannot do it.’
‘Then we will elope.’ She stood up, picked up her mantle, fan and reticule and turned to Emma. ‘It is not an idle threat, you know. I mean it.’
Emma was appalled. She looked across the few feet of carpet which divided them, trying to assess how serious Lucy was and decided she was very serious indeed. Even if the runaways were tracked down and brought back, Lucy’s reputation would be ruined and so would Dominic’s good name. She could not let it happen. ‘Oh, very well, I will speak to him, but in my own time.’
Lucy flung her arms around her. ‘Oh, Emma, you are a darling. I don’t know how to thank you.’
‘I haven’t done anything yet. But I want a promise from you in return.’
‘Anything.’
‘You will not see Captain O’Connor again until your brother says you may.’
Lucy pouted. ‘Please do not ask that of me. I could not bear it. Please, Emma.’
But Emma was adamant. ‘If Captain O’Connor is half the man you say he is, he will contain himself in patience until the time is right for you to meet in the proper way. If his love cannot survive a short parting, then it is not worth having.’ The despair on Lucy’s face tugged at her heart and she relented a little. ‘You may write him a short note explaining this and I will see that he has it, but that is the last time I shall perform such a service and God help me if Lord Besthorpe ever gets to hear of it.’
They heard a step on the landing outside the door, followed by a sharp rap at the door. ‘Lucy, what are you doing in there? You will make us late.’
‘Coming!’ Lucy flung open the door to Dominic. ‘There! I am ready. How do I look?’ And she twirled round in front of him.
‘Beautiful, but then you don’t need me to tell you that, does she, Emma?’
Emma, thus appealed to, managed a weak smile of assent, but any words she might have uttered stuck in her throat. Her head was whirling with new problems. Why had she allowed herself to be persuaded into something which could only add to her tribulations? Dominic was standing there now, handsome in his black satin evening coat and knee breeches, smiling at her, as if she deserved his trust. She did not.
‘Come now, Lucy, the carriage is at the door. I hope you have told Emma she need not wait up for you.’
‘Yes, of course. Goodnight, darling Emma. We will talk about it tomorrow.’
‘Talk about what?’ he demanded, as he guided her down the stairs.
‘Oh, tonight’s ball,’ she said airily. ’emma will want to know all about it.’
Emma went to her own room and sat on a seat in the window. The night was fine and the sky peppered with bright stars. There were a few people about; a hackney trundled down the street; a cat climbed the railings opposite pursued by a dog which failed to negotiate the obstacle and stood barking in frustration. The nightwatchman stopped beneath the window and touched his hat as the Besthorpe carriage drew out and turned down the road. Emma watched it go, torn apart by conflicting emotions.
She would have given almost anything to have been beside Dominic at that moment, riding to a glittering function they could enjoy together, but that was a hopeless dream; he was utterly beyond her reach and the sooner she stopped torturing herself the sooner she could begin to think clearly. She would do better to decide what was to be done about Lucy.
Was her friend truly in love and was Fergus O’Connor an honourable man? Did his lack of wealth or a title debar him as a husband? Papa had not been wealthy and yet he had made her mother very happy. Should money be weighed in the balance? She supposed it must if you had always been used to it.
Dominic’s father had been at a low ebb when he died, but that made no difference to the way Lucy had been brought up. She took her luxurious lifestyle for granted and could have no idea what true poverty meant. Not that Dominic would allow her to sink to that, not even in his anger, but would relying on Dominic’s generosity make for a happy marriage?
To give him his due, Captain O’Connor had understood that, which was why he had suggested finding employment which would enable him to make his way up in the world. It was, she conceded, the only course if both were determined to marry. That being so, it behoved her to do what she could to help. Gretna Green was out of the question.
There was no opportunity to speak to Dominic in the next few days, days in which Lucy grew more and more impatient and Emma’s courage had time to dwindle almost to nothing. Dominic was out of the house a great deal and when he was not, there were callers come to offer him their congratulations on his engagement, or there were guests for dinner, or Lucy wanted Emma to accompany her to the shops or the library. It was on one such occasion Emma delivered Lucy’s note to the Captain.
He read it carefully and then looked up past Emma to where Lucy was watching a little way off, her blue eyes troubled. She managed a watery smile. He tore his gaze from her back to Emma. ‘Do you think you can pull this off?’
‘I shall try. But you do understand, you must stay away from Lucy, otherwise…’
‘Yes, I understand. But if we should contrive to attend the same functions, I shall not be p
rohibited from being agreeable, shall I?’
‘In public, no, of course not. But I beg you, no more private assignations. I need your promise on that.’
He sighed heavily. ‘Very well. I give you my word, just so long as I do not hear Lucy has been affianced to someone else. Then, I am, afraid, I shall come running and no power on earth will stop me.’
And with that she had to be content.
That evening, for once, Dominic had no engagements and Emma found him alone in the library. He was reading a newspaper and smoking a cigar, which he hastily put out when she knocked on the open door and asked him if he could spare her a few moments.
‘Yes, of course.’ He rose at once, noticing her heightened colour, the brightness of her eyes, the slight trembling of her hands, and wondered if now, at last, he was going to hear the truth. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear it. ‘Come in and sit down.’
She sat down, spreading the skirt of the mauve sarcenet which she had re-trimmed with lilac ribbon, and clasped her hands in her lap. ‘My lord…’ Then she stopped.
He waited expectantly. In spite of the fact that he was engaged elsewhere, in spite of the fact he was almost sure she was not who she said she was, he loved her, had acknowledged it on the night of the ball and there was nothing he could do to alter that.
She had a way of looking at him when she was speaking to him which made him feel as though he were drowning in the green depths of her eyes. He swallowed every word and ended up panting for breath, convinced she could never do a dishonest act nor knowingly hurt another living being. Nor could he forget what it was like to hold her in his arms, to have her head on his shoulder and the scent of her soft hair in his nostrils.
Paradoxically, she made him furiously angry. Sometimes he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake the truth out of her. Sometimes, on the odd occasions when they were alone in the same room, he had an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her, not as cousin to cousin, but as a lover might, to see her shocked face and to laugh at his own stupidity. How could one person, a little brown mouse, as Sophie persisted in calling her, cause such havoc?