‘It just confirms what he’s been saying all along. That he doesn’t believe Linette Darling is good enough for you,’ Alex said. ‘That he never will believe she’s good enough for you. And that if you proceed with this marriage, the two of you will remain at odds until one or the other of you dies.’
It was a sobering reality, Alex reflected as he watched his brother walk away. Because it also meant that Emma Darling would never be good enough for him. No matter how he’d come to feel about her, any type of relationship, other than the one his father had just suggested, was impossible. He was next in line to the earldom, which meant he had even less leeway than his brother when it came to giving away his heart. He owed his family his loyalty; an obligation that had been instilled in him since he was a boy. Honour. Duty. Responsibility. The pride one took in one’s name and one’s position in society. He was doing the right thing by marrying Glynnis because it was what everyone expected.
Why, then, did it suddenly feel as though it couldn’t have been more wrong?
* * *
There was not a great deal of happiness to be found at Dove’s Hollow the next morning. Aunt Dorothy, painfully aware of the grievous faux pas she had committed the night before, refused to come out of her room. She would not be swayed by her brother’s pleas that she come downstairs and talk this out, and, when Emma tried to take her a breakfast tray, she steadfastly refused to open the door.
‘Aunt Dorothy, please come downstairs,’ Emma said. ‘We are not angry with you.’
‘You should be!’ came the unusually frail voice. ‘I am furious with myself.’
‘But—’
‘Go away, Emma dear. I would rather be alone.’
Emma pressed her ear to the door and heard the sound of muffled crying. ‘Very well, but I shall leave the tray.’
‘Take it away. I don’t want anything.’
‘I shall leave it regardless.’ And Emma did, hoping her aunt would change her mind. Dorothy had always had a good appetite for food.
‘How is she?’ Linette asked when Emma arrived back downstairs.
‘Not good. I left the tray outside her door, but she wouldn’t let me in.’
‘Oh, Emma, I feel dreadful about all this,’ Linette said. ‘I never meant to make everyone so unhappy. I had no idea matters would turn out like this.’
Emma drew her sister into her arms and held her tight. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. You have no more control over Aunt Dorothy than I did over Aunt Augusta. They lead their own lives and, if they make mistakes, they have no one to blame but themselves. But you have a man who loves you desperately and who wants to marry you. That is what you have to concentrate on right now.’
‘But will the earl still allow Peter to marry me?’ Linette sadly pulled free of her sister’s embrace. ‘Lord Widdicombe did not look at me once after the gentlemen rejoined the ladies last night. He made a point of staying as far away from me as possible. And when Peter tried to come over to talk to me, his father called him away on some pretence or other. It couldn’t have been more obvious that he did not want us to be together.’
That, unfortunately, was true. Keenly aware of the dynamics in the room, Emma had watched the earl effectively ignore Linette for the rest of the evening. Only when she was leaving had he nodded in her direction, but while it was enough to prevent people from thinking he had cut her entirely, it wasn’t much more.
And neither had her own situation improved. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Alex at all. It was as though he had decided to ignore her the same way Lord Widdicombe had chosen to ignore Linette. When he had come back into the drawing room with the rest of the gentlemen, he had gone immediately to Lady Glynnis’s side and Emma had watched them laughing and talking as though he had been trying to make her aware of the differences between them.
It had all but torn Emma apart. Even when Alex hadn’t been with Lady Glynnis, he had stayed in the company of his other friends, part of the gilded circle in which he moved. If ever the differences between their families had been apparent, it was last night. The elegant society people on one side of the room and her family on the other. The gap could not have been wider.
‘Well, as far as I’m concerned, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,’ Emma said fiercely. ‘You were a perfect lady the entire weekend and everyone who was there saw that. If the earl wishes to wash his hands of us because of something Aunt Dorothy did, there is really nothing we can do. But I will not have you think any the less of yourself because he cannot distinguish the goodness in you from the weakness in our aunt.’
Emma had no idea if she managed to convince Linette of anything. She wasn’t even sure she had convinced herself. But she refused to believe that the earl would force his son to end the relationship simply as a result of Aunt Dorothy’s behaviour. Surely anyone looking at the two of them could see how deeply in love they were.
And what did they see when they looked at you? the nagging little voice asked. Did they see how desperately you wanted to be with Alex?
Emma closed her eyes and prayed they did not. It would be too humiliating to be seen as being in love with Alex when he was so clearly dedicated to Lady Glynnis. She could just imagine the whispers. Who does she think she is? Surely she isn’t so naïve as to think Lord Stewart would fancy her? It’s bad enough his brother is consorting with her sister.
Oh, yes, she knew what the gossips would say. Her brief exposure to society two years ago had given her a very good insight into the ways of the ton. Most of them were shallow and conceited and out for their own gain. She had listened to them gossiping in their elegant salons, heard them whispering in music rooms about this person or that, and had seen them laugh at young unsophisticated girls who came to London with stars in their eyes in the hopes of finding the man of their dreams. A man who was oft-times as shallow and conceited as all the rest.
No, it was imperative that she maintain an emotional distance from Alex. She would not embarrass him by asking for something he could not give. And she would not embarrass herself by being seen to want it.
* * *
Aunt Dorothy eventually did come downstairs. It was just past one o’clock and lunch was already over, but it soon became evident that food was the last thing on her mind. She headed straight for the library where she knew her brother would be reading, and informed him—as he informed his children shortly thereafter—that she would be returning to London as soon as it could be arranged. She had disgraced the family beyond all hope of redemption and could not bear to show her face to any of them again. Especially to dear Linette, whose future with Mr Taylor she was quite sure she had put in jeopardy.
Mr Darling, not the most effusive or sympathetic man at the best of times, had asked if there was anything he could do, whereupon Aunt Dorothy had assured him there was not and had then returned to her room to pack. The carriage had called for her an hour later and after bidding them all a teary and embarrassed farewell, she left.
* * *
An hour later, Peter arrived.
Emma was not surprised to see him. He must have known how dreadful Linette would be feeling and he had obviously come to Dove’s Hollow in the hopes of consoling her, as any loving and dutiful fiancé would do. Mr Darling received him most civilly and after again apologising for his sister’s behaviour, he agreed to Peter’s request that he be allowed to take Linette out for a drive.
Naturally, Linette was delighted to see him. She took his appearance to mean that Lord Widdicombe had not ordered him to break off his association with her and that all was forgiven. She hurried upstairs to change into something more appropriate and left Emma and Peter to walk out to his carriage together.
‘I would ask you to join us, Miss Darling,’ Peter said, ‘but I have only the phaeton, as my brother is using the carriage to show Lady Glynnis and her parents the countryside.’
‘Pray do not concern yourself, Mr Taylor,’ Emma said, far more pained by the knowledge that Alex was occupied wi
th Lady Glynnis than she was at having to miss her sister’s outing. ‘There are things I must attend to here.’
‘Of course.’
Emma smiled and blessed the man for not looking as relieved as he probably felt. She was quite sure the last thing he wanted was an older sister tagging along as he tried to reassure the woman he loved that all would be well. And since the last thing Emma wanted was to have to sit there and listen to such reassurances, she was equally relieved not to be included. When Linette came downstairs, looking perfectly charming in a gown of lavender-sprigged muslin, Emma was perfectly content to see Peter help her into the high seat and then climb up after her.
‘We shan’t be long,’ he said.
Emma waved them off, then drew her shawl more closely around her shoulders as she turned to regard the old stone house. How must Dove’s Hollow look to someone like Peter Taylor, a man who had been raised in such a grand house and who now lived in one equally fine? Or to Lord Stewart, whose London home was said to be splendid, and who would one day inherit Widdicombe Hill, one of the finest houses in Kent? It must appear quite humble, Emma thought.
But then, their family had never pretended to be anything else. Her father was a good man, but far from sophisticated. He was educated and well read, as any man who tutors others must be, but he liked his home and his books far better than anything London had to offer. Emma’s mother was the one who had sampled the delights of town. Growing up as the eldest daughter of a well-to-do merchant, she was the one who had taken in the theatre and the museums and the art galleries. She had met Percy Darling at one such place and had fallen quite madly in love with him.
Still, they had been happy. There had always been food on the table and a roof over their heads. The girls had enjoyed lessons with a governess while Ridley had been sent to a school in the village. It was only after they had moved into Dove’s Hollow that their father had given up teaching and settled to the life of a gentleman. And all would have been perfect had it not been for their mother’s declining health and subsequent passing.
That had been the hardest thing Emma had ever had to endure. She still missed her mother dreadfully. There were so many things she would have liked to talk to her about. Things only a mother and daughter could share, because a mother had special insights into a daughter’s heart. While her father did his best, he was just a man. And dear Aunt Dorothy, well, she’d always had her own best interests at heart. She hadn’t adapted well to life on her own and had taken to finding solace in drink.
However, everyone had their problems, Emma reflected, and everyone had their own ways of dealing with them. It was just unfortunate that Dorothy’s manner of dealing with her problems had unwittingly created a problem for everyone else. But, as her father said, there was nothing any of them could do about it. The damage was done. The fact of Peter’s coming here today was surely proof that the wedding was going to proceed. If he had come to break it off, Emma doubted he would have looked so happy at setting off alone with Linette in the phaeton.
Not ready to head back into the house, Emma ambled towards the stable. She thought Ridley might be back soon, having left just after Aunt Dorothy made her announcement, but Chesapeake’s stall was still empty and the stable was quiet, the only sound being the contented sound of Bess munching hay.
Emma went to close the door of Chessy’s stall when she noticed, of all things, Ridley’s sketchbook lying on one of the bales of hay. Why on earth would he have left it down here?
She had her answer when she glanced at the page lying open. Ridley had started a sketch of the chestnut. Perhaps he thought to use it in his portrait for the family in London. He’d certainly done a masterful job. The musculature of the horse’s hindquarters was beautifully depicted, as was the length and shape of its legs. More accustomed to seeing her brother’s rendition of the human animal, Emma was astonished at how accurately he had captured the details of the horse’s form, even to the coarse texture of the mane and tail.
Curious to see more of his work, Emma sat down and pulled the pad on to her lap. There were a variety of sketches within, some of animals, a few of buildings, but most often of people. There were even casual drawings of the three of them going about their daily routine. She saw one of her father absently rubbing Rory’s head as he read the newspaper, and one of her working on her embroidery while Linette played the piano in the background. Ridley had a gift for capturing the tiny details other artists would surely miss. The dusting of freckles across the bridge of Linette’s nose. The tranquillity of her father’s expression, the smile that always hovered so close to the surface. There was even a second one of her, sitting at her easel with her brush poised against the canvas, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Then she turned the page again—and saw Lady Glynnis staring up at her.
Emma gasped. The portrait was uncannily lifelike. Ridley had captured Lady Glynnis during an unguarded moment, her expression soft, her features relaxed as she smiled back at him. She was wearing a simple round gown and her head was bare, her hair casually arranged in soft waves around her face.
Hardly daring to breathe, Emma turned the page and found another sketch of Lady Glynnis, this time a more formal portrait of the lady seated in a wingback chair, elegantly garbed in a sumptuous silver gown with strands of pearls and flowers woven through her hair.
Then another of her in a riding habit, with a crop in one hand and her other resting on the head of a very large black-and-white dog.
And finally, the last sketch, almost medieval in nature. Lady Glynnis was standing in a doorway looking back at the artist. Her hair hung down her back, her eyes were soft, her lips full and inviting. It was a beautiful portrait. Seductive, without being erotic. But it was the expression on her face that Emma found the most disturbing. Because in every sketch, Lady Glynnis was gazing back at the man who had captured her so deliberately on paper and smiling at him in that special way. The way of a woman in love—
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Emma’s head shot up. ‘Ridley!’
He was standing in the doorway, and he was furious. ‘You had no right—!’
‘You left the sketchbook open on a bale of hay.’ Emma got to her feet. ‘Anyone could have found it.’
‘But no one would have had the nerve to pick it up and look through it.’ Ridley walked in and flipped it closed. ‘No one else would have been interested.’
‘You don’t know that! And if you don’t want people looking at your secrets, you shouldn’t leave them lying around.’
This time, it was her brother who flushed. ‘I have no secrets.’
‘Oh, Ridley, do you think I’m blind?’ Emma opened the book to the last sketch of Lady Glynnis. ‘Do you think I don’t recognise that look?’
Her brother’s dark brows drew together. ‘What look?’
‘The look of a woman in love. The same look Linette’s worn for the last six months!’
‘All right, so it’s a picture of Lady Glynnis in love. That’s nothing to be remarked upon. She is in love—with Lord Stewart.’
‘But she’s looking at you.’
‘Of course she is. I’m the artist,’ Ridley said. ‘But she was thinking of him. Now if you don’t mind—’
‘But Lord Stewart is going to propose to Lady Glynnis. But if she’s in love with you—’
‘She is not in love with me!’
‘Look at this drawing, Ridley!’ Emma said in exasperation. ‘Look at the expression on her face. She isn’t looking at Lord Stewart now.’
‘Leave it alone, Emma.’
‘I can’t.’ Emma knew she was badgering him, but she had to get at the truth. ‘This is too important. Especially if there’s a chance she’s in love with you!’
‘Damn it, Emma, she is not in love with me. She made that very clear the day she learned I’d shown the painting to Tom. She said she never wanted to see me again!’
‘But why do you think she was so upset? Aside fr
om the fact that she wanted Lord Stewart to be the first one to see the portrait.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You told me she was happy with the portrait?’
‘Yes. She asked me to make her look beautiful and I did. But I just painted her as I saw her. I didn’t have to try to make her look beautiful. She was beautiful. And the more I came to care for her, the more of my feelings I poured into the painting. Eventually, it became…a portrait for me.’
‘Precisely!’ Emma said, quietly triumphant. ‘And I think Lady Glynnis was afraid Tom Towbridge saw exactly that. The fact that she was in love…but with you!’
‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘Is it? A guilty conscience is a powerful thing, Ridley,’ Emma said softly. ‘It makes people go through all kinds of wild imaginings. Make them see shadows where none exist. Lady Glynnis was afraid Tom saw how much she loved you, rather than the man she was having the painting done for!’
Ridley shook his head. ‘You’re wrong. She was angry because I betrayed her trust. If she loved me, she would have told me.’
‘Oh, yes, just like you told her!’ Emma threw back at him.
‘It wasn’t my place to tell her! She was promised to another man. It wasn’t the honourable thing to do.’
‘And letting her marry a man who doesn’t love her is?’
‘Enough!’ he shouted. ‘I will not discuss this. Whatever her reasons for being angry with me don’t matter any more. She obviously doesn’t have any feelings for me or she would have made some kind of effort to speak to me alone. But she hasn’t done that, has she? She’s stayed at Ellingsworth even though she knew I was here. If that’s how a woman in love behaves, I’m better off without her.’
‘Ridley, please think about this—’
‘No! I’ve done all the thinking I’m going to,’ Ridley snapped. ‘In a few days, I will be returning to London and carrying on with my life. Linette will marry Peter Taylor, Lady Glynnis will marry Lord Stewart and everyone will be happy.’
‘Everyone except you,’ Emma whispered as her brother marched out of the stall with the sketchbook under his arm.
Improper Miss Darling Page 18