by Jan Constant
Miss Plantagenet gave her a withering gray stare before she turned away, pointedly engaging an unhappy Elvira in a light conversation that totally left out her companion.
Irritated, Emma dropped back, and when a few minutes later, a pleasant baritone spoke her name, she greeted Lord Devern guardedly but allowed him to walk beside her.
“I am relieved, Miss Beringer,” he told her, bowing. “I had thought that I might be in danger of being given a set- down.”
Emma raised her eyebrows. “What a foolish female I would be to draw attention in such a way,” she murmured. “Besides, I cannot believe that any action of mine would seriously discompose you, my lord.”
Vivian Devern laughed. A sound which caused several heads to turn in their direction, including that of Miss Plantagenet, who, seeing who was Emma’s companion, was obviously caught in a quandary of both wishing to ignore Emma and yet feeling the need to save her from the attentions of Lord Devern.
“The paragon is about to descend on us,” he murmured, an amused smile on his lips as he looked down into Emma’s face. “Do you wish to be rescued?”
“Not at the moment,” she assured him.
“Then, let us turn down this side path. ’ ’
Walking quickly, they were soon lost among the twists of the hedge-lined path, alone apart from the distant sounds of voices, and suddenly Emma was aware of the indiscretion of her action.
Sensing her unease, Lord Devern turned to her, barring her path as if by accident. “Dear Miss Beringer, do not, I pray, fail me now,” he said softly. “I thought that I had found that unusual female—one who cared little for comment. ... Do not disillusion me by turning into a nervous, spinsterish paragon.”
Emma eyed him, his rueful expression making her smile. “I am no missish old maid,” she said, “but neither am I prepared to risk my reputation, which I would be foolish not to care about. Let us turn back, if you please. ”
He folded her fingers into the crook of his elbow and held them there in a firm grip. “If we continue this way we shall rejoin the main thoroughfare shortly—and in the meantime we will have the opportunity of a private conversation.”
An exploratory tug telling her that her hand was tightly held, Emma could not but fall in with the suggestion and walked calmly beside her companion.
“Very well,” she said composedly, “we shall talk of inconsequences. . . . The weather is very good for the time of year, do you not think? I believe that the harvest has been exceptional, though fashionable Society is sadly depleted at this time of year.”
“Naughty! ” her companion admonished, nipping her fingers, “when I stayed in town merely to be sure of a moment of your company. ’ ’
“Pooh—let me tell you, my lord, that I am not henbrained enough to believe such blatant flattery. I know very well that you have not left for the country for some good reason which has nothing to do with me.”
Vivian Devern raised a mocking eyebrow. “What a knowing minx you are.”
Not liking the familiarity of this address, Emma lifted her chin and inquired sweetly as to the time.
Lord Devern lost his smile, and for a moment his gray eyes narrowed into slits before a rueful expression twisted his lips. “That damned knuckleheaded cousin of mine, I’ll be bound,” he exclaimed.
Emma saw no reason why Freddie should bear the blame alone. “And Sir Julian,” she supplied quietly.
They had come up to a seat set back in the hedge, and here he obliged her to sit. “How much do you know, Miss Beringer?” he asked.
Emma considered. “Most of it, I’d say,” she answered coolly. “Save precisely how Sir Julian obtained the return of the watch.”
Lord Devern appeared amused. “I suppose that you and Miss Leyton imagine a dramatic duel, no less.”
His companion nodded. “As neither of you bore signs of fisticuffs, as far as we could see,” she said lightly.
Apparently having regained his good humor, Lord Devern laughed. “My dear, Ju merely asked!” he told her surprisingly, going on to explain as she raised her eyebrows in polite
disbelief. “Once he knew I had the bauble, there was no point in continuing the affair. ’ ’
Emma regarded him thoughtfully. “Why do you dislike Sir Julian so much?” she asked.
“Old business, my dear. ” Seating himself beside her, half- turning to shield her from view with his shoulder, he returned her gaze for a few seconds before remarking, “I have an idea that you do not exactly love him yourself. ’ ’
‘ ‘Love! ’ ’ she was startled into repeating. ‘ ‘Indeed it would be very improper for me to love my guardian.” Realizing from his interested expression that she was being too vehement, Emma took a breath to allow time for her brain to clear and then went on more calmly. ‘ ‘While it would be true to say that Sir Julian and I have not always seen eye to eye, that circumstance is about to change. I attain my majority very shortly.”
For a moment she found herself the recipient of a shrewd, assessing stare, which discomforted her, before Lord Devern relaxed his gaze and offered her his felicitations. “May I be the first to wish you a happy birthday? ’ ’ he asked, taking her hand to convey it to his lips in a gallant gesture.
It was at that inauspicious moment that Miss Plantagenet came upon them. Having spent a quarter of an hour searching for the errant Emma, she was clearly satisfied to have her suspicions well-founded.
“Miss Beringer, there you are,” she cried in well-bred accents, bustling forward and acknowledging Lord Devern’s bow with cool civility. “How we came to miss you, I do not know, but now we must make haste—”
“Lord Devern has taken good care of me,” said Emma coolly, standing up and shaking out her skirts. “You need have had no worry on my behalf, I do assure you.”
Miss Plantagenet was forced to acknowledge Vivian Devern’s presence more than she cared. “My thanks, for your care,” she said, inclining her head graciously.
155
“Not at all, Miss Plantagenet. I was happy to be of some service, and now I shall be delighted to escort you all home. ’ ’
Shooting a quick glance at his bland countenance, Emma thought she detected a hidden amusement, but his bow to Miss Plantagenet as he proffered his arm was a model of polite manners, and the conversation he offered as they walked toward the gate could not be faulted.
“Well, that was clever,” admired Elvira as she and Emma dutifully followed, “for now the snide cat cannot tell tales on us.”
In that surmise they were mistaken, as Emma found out the next morning. She was up early as usual, intending to take her habitual ride in the park, however, instead of Jem Bowls, she found Sir Julian waiting to accompany her. One glance at his set face showed that this was intended to be no pleasant outing, but, choosing to ignore his glowering countenance, she remarked brightly upon the pleasure of his unexpected company and rode beside him with unconcern as they trotted through the quiet streets.
“I shall gallop,” she announced once through the gates and without giving her guardian the chance to comment, clapped her heels into the sides of her mount and dashed away across the grass at a reckless pace. The mare had settled into a steady, exhilarating gallop which seemed to leave her worries behind, when she was chagrined to notice an equine nose appear alongside her elbow. Out of the comer of her eye, Emma was aware of being overtaken as the head steadily advanced and drew slowly ahead. Although she knew that it was useless, she urged her own animal to greater effort. The mare responded willingly with a surge of power, but the gain was only momentary, and Sir Julian passed her, riding on to win the race easily.
Turning at the far end of the open space, he waited for her, resting easily in the saddle as she approached.
“Well?” she demanded, halting the mare a few paces in front of Sir Julian’s horse.
Her guardian raised his eyebrows and regarded her coldly.
“Pray say what you have to,” Emma said. “By your expression it is cle
ar that you did not choose to ride with me for reasons of enjoyment, therefore you must wish to say something which you prefer me to hear privately. I take it that Miss Plantagenet has let drop a little insidious poison in your ear.”
Sir Julian looked a little surprised at this attack but countered quickly, “I wonder, Miss Beringer, how you dare, not only to place yourself in a position of some question, but force Miss Plantagenet into the invidious position of having to accept Lord Devern’s company?”
“I thought that she would come running to you!” commented Emma in a satisfied voice. “In the nicest way, of course, and only because she felt it her duty!”
“She—Miss Plantagenet did no such thing. She was very diffident about acquainting me with the matter, and only her thought for you persuaded her to mention your behavior. ”
“Indeed? Well, you really must be a ninnyhammer to believe such fudge. She told you to bolster her own self-esteem and importance.”
“Unfair, Miss Beringer. To have sneaked away to an assignation with Lord Devern and to have been found in intimate circumstances with him in a trysting place is behavior no one could condone. ”
The heat of Emma’s rage abruptly departed, leaving her cold and icy. “Is that what you believe—that I would behave so?” She stated at him, eyes like chips of blue glass. “Then, sir, I have nothing to say. I shall leave your house immediately.”
About to ride away, she recalled her plan and, for Elvira’s future happiness, swallowed her pride and, with shoulders drooping in clear despair, bravely smothered an audible sob.
“Emma!” cried her guardian, stricken.
With bent head and dejection expressed in every line of her body, she put her horse to a slow walk, conscious of the
picture she presented as she headed toward the park gate. Almost, she whistled a funeral march, but managed to refrain.
“Miss Beringer—Emma, stay. If I was too harsh, I apologize.’’
“So I should hope,” she said, lifting her head to meet Sir Julian’s gaze.
Staring at the tears still sparkling on her eyelashes, he took a steadying breath and shook his head admonishingly. “Don’t bamboozle me, kitten,” he said, the harsh note gone from his voice.
Flicking the teardrops away with a finger, Emma accepted his offer of a handkerchief and blew her nose. “You really should listen to both sides of a tale,” she remarked.
“Miss Plantagenet was doing only what she saw as her duty,” he repeated, sounding defensive.
Lifting her head, she gave him a steady gaze. “Yes? Well, then I must accept it as being so, but to me it seems that the lady is prone to see the worst in things. I know that she often upsets Elvira, whom you know is very sensitive. Of course Miss Plantagenet may mean well, but Elvira is easily hurt. I will give Miss Plantagenet the benefit of doubt, but, even so, Sir Julian, I am not in need of a nursemaid. Miss Plantagenet may be as she puts it ‘a nearly sister’ to Elvira, but she is no such thing to me, and, to be honest, I resent her interference. I make no excuses and feel no need for explanation, except to say that I have no need to be ashamed of my behavior.”
Sir Julian, who had listened gravely, searched her face and nodded thoughtfully. “Then nothing more will be said,” he told her. “Let us not quarrel—”
‘ ‘Indeed no, for I have only a few more days in your wardship, and to end our relationship in acrimony would be of all things foolish,” she said ingenuously.
Her guardian agreed, an expression she could not read in his black eyes, despite which, Emma chattered brightly as they rode home. Sir Julian appeared thoughtful and unusually quiet during the journey. Leaving her at the entrance to the mews, he took her hand and conveyed it to his lips before riding off without a word.
Watching his tall, straight back, Emma slowly rubbed the back of her hand, a faint smile curving her mouth, before she rode under the gate and into the stable yard.
Chapter Twelve
An ordered calm prevailed in Cumberland Square for the next few days, even extending as far as Mrs. Melvin, who presented her card with some qualms and was gratified when, for the first time in weeks, she found that Lady Beauvale was at home.
“I do not believe in bearing grudges, my dears,” remarked her ladyship comfortably. “Of course, I would not extend my friendship as far as Vivian Devern, but Lizzie Melvin is one of those poor creatures more put on than putting upon.”
And so the girls were forced to endure the regulation twenty minutes of fight gossip with as much fortitude as they could raise. The only item which caused them to prick up their ears was Mrs. Melvin’s announcement that Lord Devern had been called away yet again on urgent business.
“Now, what can that be?” wondered Emma as soon as they had retreated to their own room.
“Personally I believe he is a smuggler,” supplied Elvira. “He is always out of town on some business or other—look how you met him when Ju had the accident. ”
Having given the matter her attention, Emma shook her head. ‘ ‘I cannot see him as the mysterious leader of a gang, ’ ’ she remarked. “More a spy, perhaps . . . someone alone and answerable to himself. ’ ’
“Oh, yes,” breathed her friend. “He’d make a very good 160
sinister spy. Have you noticed how he always appears quietly just when you don’t expect him?”
Emma laughed. “Like J—your brother! Who is forever popping up to discommode me. ’ ’
“I assure you that Ju is no spy,” said Elvira huffily.
“No—and I daresay that Lord Devern is not either,” agreed the other. “We are just looking for excitement because we are bored.”
“How I wish I was a man!” mourned Elvira. “They are forever going to prize fights and shooting clubs and other places we cannot.”
“I don’t think I would precisely care to attend a fight— but to go where and when one wished, alone and without bother would be above all marvelous! ”
“Oh, yes—imagine just ordering a horse and setting out wherever one pleased without having to ask permission and make arrangements to be accompanied—”
“And all too often one is told that it is not considered suitable for young ladies.”
“Do you think Miss Plantagenet will cry off from your birthday party?” asked Elvira, having followed the train of thought caused by the subject of their conversation.
“I hope not!” cried Emma involuntarily, causing Elvira to open her eyes in surprise. “I mean—I wouldn’t want to spoil Sir Julian’s enjoyment, and, after all, they are nearly engaged!”
As Elvira looked disbelievingly at her, she hurried on, eager to change the subject. “What do you intend to wear?” she asked, knowing that the inquiry was one sure to distract the other girl, and, to her relief, the conversation turned to Elvira’s new gown, the precise hang of which was proving difficult even for the nimble fingers of the dressmaker.
The evening of Emma’s birthday was wet, but the rain did not dampen her spirits, particularly as she had a new dark green evening cloak as yet unworn and, by good fortune, had
chosen to wear a silver gauze dress with an emerald green underskirt.
Lady Beauvale had given her a pair of emerald earrings, and with these in her ears, she sat in front of her mirror and drew on the new pair of kid gloves, which had been Elvira’s present, and smiled back at her reflection, well-pleased with her appearance.
“Oh, miss, you do look lovely!” Maria sighed, putting the finishing touches to her mistress’s hair. “Like a fairy— all green and sparkly!”
Sir Julian was waiting at the foot of the stairs as she descended. For one moment the expression she read in his dark eyes made her catch her breath, before he veiled his thoughts and assumed a bland smile as he came forward to offer his hand.
“Happy birthday, Miss Beringer,” he said formally, dropping a long, slender parcel into her hands.
The tissue paper parted to reveal the carved ivory sticks of a fan, and, flicking it out with a practiced
gesture, Emma gazed in delight at a delicate painting on sea green silk. ‘ ‘It’s beautiful,” she breathed, “and just the right color.”
“I had some help there,” Sir Julian confessed. “Little sisters have their uses!”
“My dear, you look beautiful,” exclaimed Lady Beau- vale, hurrying forward. “Julian, does she not do us credit?”
Emma held her breath while dark eyes swept over her. Not hiding his admiration this time, Sir Julian made her a gallant bow.
“Miss Beringer, you will put all other females in the shade.” Without looking round, he was aware that Elvira had pouted comically behind his back and went on blandly, “Except for the ladies of my family, who, without exception, have the good fortune to be born with outstanding good looks.”
Elvira dimpled happily, and all three woman swept elaborate curtsies in unison.
“You have no idea how much searching of pattern books and how many visits to Bond Street it took, Ju,” Elvira told her brother.
“Oh, I have little sister, I have,” he murmured dryly. “And Aunt Di, may I say how fine you are looking—indeed, I am sure that there will be no finer looking set of ladies in the whole of London. ”
Lady Beauvale inclined her head graciously, pleased with the compliment and conscious that she was looking very well in a cream satin dress with a royal blue overgown.
“We must be going, children,” she advised. “To be late is fashionable—to miss the first act altogether would make the rest of the play unintelligible. And we have yet to collect Miss Plantagenet, you know.”
The landau was already waiting at the door, and the ladies set about disposing themselves and their finery on the leather seats. Lady Beauvale, sitting beside her nephew, eyed the two girls opposite with a worried expression.