by Jan Constant
than made up for by his air of consequence and calm condescension. The other dinner guests consisted of family friends whom Lady Beauvale judged would advance the girls in their first Season.
As course followed course, Emma grew more nervous about the coming dance and almost wished herself anywhere but seated at the long table making polite conversation, while her mind was busy with the dread that no one would ask her to dance, and she would have to spend the evening trying to look happy and animated, while hoping for a partner.
At last the interminable meal came to a close, the gentlemen foregoing more than one glass of port, while the ladies retired to effect hasty repairs to their toilet, as the dance guests were expected any minute.
Emma found no need to repair her appearance and was about to leave her room, when the door burst open without warning and a pink-cheeked, bright-eyed Elvira appeared, waving a crumpled square of paper.
“Oh, joy!” she cried. “My dearest Bevis is here in London and begs me to meet him at the library in Bond Street tomorrow! This dinner-dance will be a great bore. ... I can hardly contain my impatience at the prospect of dancing with old beaus in the hopes that their wives will invite us to their next rout!”
“Oh, Elvira! A moment ago you were excited at the thought.”
*‘ That was before I received Bevis’s note, ’ ’ Elvira pointed out. ‘ 'Now I can think of nothing else and only wish that this evening were over.”
However, when the girls joined Sir Julian and his aunt to welcome their new guests a pleasant surprise awaited them; Emma had shaken so many hands and been introduced to so many strangers, that her head had started to spin when a familiar face appeared in front of her eyes.
“Johnnie!” she cried in pleased surprise and had her fingers taken in a strong grip as a young officer in the well- known green uniform bowed over her hand.
“I see you know Captain Gray,” observed her guardian dryly. “Glad to see you, Gray. I am pleased that you could join us.”
To her amusement, Emma saw Elvira brighten visibly as she was introduced to the soldier. When they could join their guests in the ballroom, it was not long before the rifleman approached, claiming a waltz from each to Freddie’s ill- disguised annoyance.
“I say—are we going to waltz?” he asked. “I’d have put my name down if I’d known. ”
“Lady Beauvale is allowing just two—the rest are to be country and round dances.”
“Then, may I put my name against the other?” Freddie asked quickly, reaching for Emma’s card only to have it removed from his grasp.
“I see it is already spoken for,” said Sir Julian, scribbling his initials and blandly ignoring the younger man’s irritation. “A guardian’s privilege,” he explained, handing the card back to Emma.
“Well, dash it all!” Freddie was moved to exclaim as Sir Julian moved on. “If that isn’t a dirty trick.”
Both girls’ cards filled up with gratifying speed, and Emma happily forgot her dread of being a wallflower. Waltzing was still considered a little fast, but she knew that Johnnie Gray was an accomplished dancer and under his guidance acquitted herself well. She approached the dance with Sir Julian with more trepidation. Feeling unusually nervous, she reached up to lay her hand on his shoulder, accepting his hand on her waist with outward calm but inwardly very aware of his nearness.
She was oddly pleased to find that he was a very good dancer, swinging easily to the lilting quick rhythm.
“Relax, Miss Beringer,” he said into her ear. “I promise not to eat you.”
Emma missed a step and apologized, careful not to meet her partner’s eyes, wondering why her feet should suddenly fit so easily to his steps and why she should be sorry when the music came to an end.
Ghapier Seven
“Was not that the most delightful evening?” wondered Elvira late the next morning, sipping her chocolate, while curled up at the foot of Emma’s bed.
“You sound like Clarissa,” Emma pointed out teasingly.
“Oh Lord, so I do! But you must agree—it was enjoyable. Even Ju was charming. I will say that he makes a very good host. Everyone was so attentive. ...” She broke off reflectively and gazed dreamily at a point above her friend’s head.
“Johnnie Gray cuts a dashing figure, does he not?” put in Emma invitingly and was gratified when the other girl responded at once, confirming her suspicions.
“He is very handsome, certainly. That precise shade of red hair goes so well with his green uniform. I felt that I had known him for years—”
“Johnnie is an accomplished flirt but very attractive with it, and I am persuaded that there is not a scrap of unkindness or mischief in his soul. I always regarded him as an especial friend in the Peninsula.”
Elvira looked disappointed. “Did you?” she asked, rather tonelessly.
Emma laughed. “Friend, I said. I have no other claim on him, I assure you. As far as I know he is heart free, so feel able to flirt with him as much as you like! ”
Raising a shocked face, Elvira shook her head reprovingly. “Have you forgot Bevis?” she demanded. “Remember that I consider myself engaged to him.”
Privately Emma had begun to grow tired of the absent poet. “Does that mean that you intend to refuse all invitations?” she inquired, a wicked twinkle in her eyes.
“Indeed, no. For that would excite suspicion,” she was assured. “I shall just regard myself as affianced to him.”
“Of course—and you are meeting him this afternoon.”
“Oh, Emma, you will come with me, won’t you?”
“I’ve no liking for the part of a gooseberry,” Emma objected.
‘ ‘Say you’ll come—Aunt Di will never let me visit Bond Street alone.”
Elvira looked distinctly panic-stricken, and Emma relented quickly. “I was only teasing—of course I’ll wish to change my library books this afternoon.” She looked at her friend a little doubtfully. “Perhaps,” she suggested, “if you asked Lady Beauvale, Bevis would be allowed to call upon you, and then there would be no need for deception. ”
“Ju would never agree,” was Elvira’s positive response. “He made it quite plain that he would do his best to prevent Bevis and I meeting.” She looked closely at Emma. “You are not crying off, are you?” she demanded.
‘ ‘I—just thought that it would be better if your relationship was known.”
* ‘What nonsense! Ju may be showing his pleasant side at the moment, but underneath he is just as arrogant and objectionable as ever,” stated his sister positively.
It was in a state of high excitement that Elvira entered the library that afternoon. The obliging Hetty was sent on a reconnaissance and returned, beaming, to report that Mr. Bevis was to be found in the far comer, which happened to be suitably private. Emma promised to keep watch, and Elvira vanished into the depths of the book-lined room.
Hovering near the door, Emma took down a copy of Mansfield Park and divided her attention between Fanny’s adventures and the library entrance. However, she became
engrossed in the story, forgetting her duty until her arm was lightly touched and a well-moderated voice spoke.
“Miss Beringer—how pleasant to find you here. I trust you are not feeling tired after the exertions of last night?”
Recognizing the voice, she managed to hide her dismay before she turned and greeted Jane Plantagenet as affably as possible.
“H-how delightful to meet you, Miss Plantagenet. Are you a devotee of Miss Austen?” She held out the book. “I think she is very clever and amusing. ... Do not you think her a wicked tease?”
Miss Plantagenet looked disapproving. “I prefer more sober authors,” she said, a gently chiding note in her voice. “An improving book is to my taste. My papa has taken great pains with ordering my mind. I daresay that you have not been lucky enough to have an educated man guide you in your reading matter. I believe that I still have the reading list my father set out for me when first I came out of the schoolro
om.”
“H-how interesting,” Emma felt called upon to say and was at once rewarded by Miss Plantagenet kindly offering to lend her the list.
“No thank you,” she said firmly. “My papa, who was a man of extreme good sense, taught me not only to be discriminating in my choice, but also that one should enjoy a book!”
Jane Plantagenet looked down her aristocratic nose. “I daresay, my dear Miss Beringer, that he was alluding to the reading matter for a young, unformed female. If you will just consider—”
Having grown tired of the subject, Emma firmly changed the conversation. ‘ ‘Did you enjoy the evening—I noticed that you and Mr. Plantagenet left early?” she asked, maneuvering so that she could keep her eyes upon the discreet comer into which Elvira had vanished.
‘ ‘We believe that early hours are good for a healthy mind. ’ ’
“Dear me, that must make your social life a little difficult!” exclaimed Emma involuntarily.
“Not at all,” she was told comfortably. “Our friends are all aware of the restrictions we place upon late hours.”
Emma smiled sweetly. “That would explain why I have not seen you in Cumberland Square,” she could not resist saying.
“Sir Julian is well aware of our feelings and has commented upon the wisdom of them. He gives us the civility of leaving our house before ten o’clock and understands that it was only because of our . . . particular circumstances that we stayed until thirty minutes past eleven last night.”
‘ ‘I’m sure he was very honored. ’ ’ A movement at the back of the room attracted Emma’s gaze, and for one moment she encountered Elvira’s horrified stare as her friend rounded a tall bookcase before, realizing her danger, she popped out of sight again.
“Is there someone you know?” inquired Miss Plantagenet, turning to follow Emma’s eyes and peering at the back of the library. “Surely you are not here alone?”
“Yes—no ... I mean ...” Emma stammered, but Jane Plantagenet was not listening.
“Oh, I see Hetty at the back,” she exclaimed, starting forward, “so dear Elvira must be there, also. Of course she should be the one to come to me, but I was never one to stand on ceremony.”
While speaking, she crossed the room, Emma following unhappily in her wake.
“Elvira is looking for a particular book,” she announced loudly, hoping to warn her friend of their imminent arrival and was relieved when Elvira stepped out from behind the bookshelves.
“Why, Miss Plantagenet, how nice to see you,” she enthused, unaware that the bright spots of color in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes hardly coincided with the mundane task of changing her reading matter.
“Elvira, my dear,” Miss Plantagenet stopped and viewed the other’s flushed face with some alarm. “Are you not well?” she asked. Alerted by the girl’s guilty expression, she looked behind Elvira and for the first time became aware of a male figure hovering in the space between the lines of books. “Who is this?” she demanded. “Was he annoying you—I shall call the proprietor.”
Emma stood steadfast, refusing to step out of her way. “This is Mr. Bevis Browne—an old friend,” she said, hoping that the older woman would accept the explanation and that that would be the end of the affair.
Miss Plantagenet quivered. “Browne—is not that the name of the person whom Sir Julian has forbidden you to see? Elvira, I am shocked! To meet him here, alone and against your brother’s express wishes.”
* ‘Elvira is not alone, I am here and so is her maid, ’ ’ Emma pointed out, while Elvira looked about to burst into tears. Emma looked up, expecting Bevis to join them, but that gentleman had taken the opportunity to slip away, and, turning her head, she saw him leaving the library and hurrying across the street, heedless of the traffic.
“I will take it upon myself to escort you home,” Miss Plantagenet declared with self-righteous piety. “My papa is collecting me any minute in the barouche—we will take you up. I am sure he will understand the need and that it is what Sir Julian would wish. After all I almost consider myself as a sister.”
‘ ‘There really is no need, ’ ’ said Emma, as Elvira appeared incapable of speech. “Lady Beauvale knows we are here, and you really should not trouble yourself with our affairs, for we are quite able to walk home. ”
“I would be lacking in my duty if I did not see you safe into Lady Beauvale’s care,” she was assured, and Miss Plantagenet, who saw her duty only too clearly, hurried officiously to the door, searching for her father’s carriage among the lines of approaching vehicles.
“Quick!” urged Emma, nudging her friend who seemed in a state of shock. “Out through this door before she comes back.”
Pushing a stunned Elvira and followed by an excited maid, she opened a door in the back of the library, and they almost fell into a large room, piled high with books. An old man on a high stool glanced up from the ledger in which he was writing as they passed and nodded, not at all put out by their presence. Scurrying across the room, the girls headed toward another door and, upon opening it, found themselves in a small alley. Traffic rumbled to their left, and as they started toward the sound, Emma caught Elvira’s arm.
“What shall we do? The wretched woman will see us if we go that way,” she cried.
“I knows a back way, miss,” offered Hetty, and the two girls gratefully followed her stolid figure through the narrow streets, returning eventually to Cumberland Square by a back route. Even so, a familiar black barouche was just driving away as they arrived.
“Oh dear,” cried Elvira, looking ready to faint. “What shall I do? Julian is so fierce in a rage, and she is bound to have told all—”
“And made the worst of it,” added Emma grimly. “Hetty—go in the basement way, and ask Mr. Frobisher to open the door for us. That way we need not ring the bell.”
“I feel quite ill. . . .” murmured Elvira faintly and, putting one hand to her head, began to sway. “Julian will be waiting—”
“You can’t swoon here,” said her friend firmly. “Only think of the fuss that would cause, the very last thing we want. ’ ’
Her bracing attitude revived Elvira enough to enable them to hurry up the steps when the butler obligingly opened the front door. Flashing a smile of thanks, Emma urged Elvira up the stairs, and the two girls almost fell into Elvira’s bedroom.
‘ ‘I shall die—I shall die, ” moaned Elvira, falling headlong onto the bed. “I know I shall. ”
“Nonsense,” rallied her friend robustly. “No one ever died of mortification.”
Bursting into hard sobs, Elvira seemed to lose interest in the situation. With tears running down her cheeks and her bonnet hanging down her back by its ribbons, she seemed like a travesty of the girl who had left the house in such high spirits a short while before.
“I sh-shall n-never see Bevis ag-gain.” She sobbed, shredding her dainty lawn handkerchief.
“That would be no great loss,” said Emma. “He sneaked off like a ninny!”
“How can you say so? Anyway Bevis is easily upset. A poet feels more th-than others,” defended Elvira.
Deep in thought, Emma tossed her bonnet onto the bed and paced about the room. ‘ ‘Papa always believed in attack, ’ ’ she said. “We should confront Sir Julian—”
“Oh, no—I could not!” Elvira shook her head vehemently. “Indeed, I think I am about to be extremely unwell.”
Hetty, who had been hovering, produced a bowl just in time and nodded knowledgeably to Emma. “Always takes miss in this way. A nervous disposition, milady calls it—the poor lamb’ll be in bed for days now. ”
Thinking it was a convenient way of avoiding life’s troubles, Emma regarded her friend doubtfully. The pale face and shadowed eyes convinced her that Elvira was not strong enough to cope with adversity, and, steeling herself, she decided to use her own strength on her friend’s behalf.
Adjourning Hetty to stay with her mistress, Emma left the room, and, hurrying downstairs before her coura
ge should fail, she knocked on the library door where she knew she would find Sir Julian.
The voice that bade her enter told her nothing of its owner’s state of mind, and Julian Leyton appeared immersed in his correspondence when she opened the door.
Clasping her hands behind her back and leaning her shoulders against the door panels, she broke into speech.
“I know that Miss Plantagenet has felt called upon to tell tales,” she began, ‘‘but I feel that you should listen to Elvira’s side before making up your mind. ”
Sir Julian looked up. “And what makes you think that I would not?” he inquired.
For a moment Emma was taken aback by the unexpected reply. “The fact that she is upstairs sick with fright,” she said. “Do you know that your sister is afraid of you?”
It was Sir Julian’s turn to be surprised, but he recovered quickly. “If my sister has, indeed, been sneaking off to clandestine meetings with a man with whom I have expressly forbade her to associate, then she has every reason to be afraid. ” He paused, looking at Emma closely. “However, if it was totally by chance that she met Mr. Browne, then, of course, a different complexion is put upon the case.” Obligingly, he waited for her reply while Emma felt her cheeks bum with mortification.
“I see,” he went on, noting her flushed face. “It was an arranged assignation. No doubt with your connivance, Miss Beringer, and Hetty as messenger. Very romantic to be sure. I had thought better of you, Emma!”
The unexpected use of her first name and the note of sorrow in his voice conveyed more to Emma than any angry words would have done, and, startled, she looked up to meet an accusing black gaze.
‘ ‘Oh, no! ’ ’ she cried. ‘ ‘It was not like that—well, not quite . . . but, really, you are treating Elvira in quite the wrong way. ’ ’ One black eyebrow rose disdainfully, but her guardian did not speak, and she hurried on, “To refuse to permit her to meet Bevis—Mr. Browne—is only to make him appear more romantic. At the moment he is unobtainable, ill treated . . . and to be desired. Only allow her a little more leeway, and she will soon lose interest—already she has seen a side to him that she cannot like. Instead of staying to defend her like a hero against Miss Plantagenet’s accusations, he neatly took himself off, leaving her to cope with the unhappy situation. I have only to remind her of his lack of bottom, and she will gradually fall out of love, I do assure you.”