Improper Miss Darling

by Gail Whitiker

  ‘I never knew you felt this way,’ he said quietly. ‘You’ve never spoken to me like this before.’

  ‘I know. And I know it isn’t the same for you,’ Glynnis said. ‘You are the heir. You don’t have the freedom of choice your brother has. You have always been forced to weigh duty and obligation, as I have. That’s why a marriage between the two of us seemed the ideal solution to our parents. I am the type of woman your father expects you to marry and you are the type of man my father wishes me to.’

  Alex didn’t know what to say. This was a side of Glynnis he’d never seen before. He had never heard her speak so passionately about something she obviously felt so strongly about. And clearly his failure to ask her to marry him was the cause of the sadness he saw in her now.

  He suddenly remembered what Towbridge had let slip at dinner—the fact that Glynnis had hired an artist to paint a portrait of her as a gift for him. A portrait that had revealed the depth of her love so clearly that even another man had been able to see it.

  And that must be the problem. Glynnis was in love with him. She was waiting for him to ask her to marry him, to do what they both knew he should. What everyone expected. And in that moment, Alex knew there was only one thing he could do. ‘Lady Glynnis Pettle,’ he said softly. ‘Glyn. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  She didn’t look at him, but he saw the tears that formed in her eyes and ran silently down her cheek. ‘Yes.’ Her mouth trembled, but she managed a smile. ‘I will marry you.’

  He leaned over and kissed her, tasting the saltiness of tears on her lips. But on an emotional level, he felt nothing. The kiss didn’t inspire him the way Emma’s had. It didn’t leave him longing to make love to her, or to hold her as she cried out his name in that moment of passionate awakening. Beyond the fondness he felt for her as a friend, there was nothing.

  Drawing back, he raised his hand to gently wipe away her tears. ‘Don’t cry, Glyn. This is supposed to be a happy moment.’

  She laughed, more a gulping sound than anything else. ‘Yes, of course. It’s just that I’m more…emotional than I expected to be. It isn’t every day a lady receives a proposal of marriage.’

  He nodded, waiting for her to compose herself. And while he did, he waited for it to come: the feeling of relief that he had done the right thing. The certainty that she was the only woman he was destined to be with. But it did not. The knowledge that she would soon be his wife brought with it no sense of deep and abiding satisfaction. He wasn’t looking forward to a future filled with the kind of love he had discovered with Emma because Glynnis wasn’t Emma. And it was the most tragic thought imaginable that no matter how long he and Glynnis were together, no matter how many children they brought into the world, he would never feel for her after a lifetime of marriage what he did for Emma Darling right now.

  * * *

  The reaction to his announcement that Glynnis had agreed to be his wife was everything Alex expected. Lord and Lady Leyland expressed their heartfelt delight and his own parents left him in no doubt as to their pleasure at hearing that he had finally made up his mind.

  ‘Oh Alex, my dear, I’m so happy for you!’ his mother said, crushing him in an unusually affectionate embrace.

  ‘Well done, my boy, well done!’ his father said, pumping his hand. ‘Damned if I don’t feel better already.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it, Father,’ Alex said, relieved that no one seemed to notice his own lack of enthusiasm.

  ‘This calls for a celebration,’ the earl said. ‘Sarah, you’ll start planning something as soon as we get home. An engagement party, followed by a grand ball, and then the wedding itself.’

  ‘I suspect the Leylands will want to take care of that, my dear.’

  ‘Ah, well, you know what’s best. But it will be the social event of the Season,’ his father went on proudly. ‘Only the finest families in attendance. The crème de la crème of society.’

  ‘I must go and speak to Glynnis’s mother,’ Lady Widdicombe said. ‘We have so much to talk about and to arrange.’

  After she left, Lord Widdicombe walked up to his son and, in an unexpected display of affection, hugged him close. ‘Thank you, Alex. You’ve made me very proud. Lady Glynnis will make you an excellent wife. If you’re as happy with her as I’ve been with your mother, you’ll be a lucky man.’

  ‘Thank you, Father, I’m sure I will be.’

  ‘And don’t wait too long before starting a family, eh? I’m longing to see grandsons.’

  Alex smiled, thinking it typical of his father that he would only consider boys. ‘There may be girls.’

  ‘A token one or two,’ the earl said with a laugh. ‘But only after the boys. Because we all know it’s boys that really matter. Especially the first one. The heir!’ The earl choked up. ‘Like you.’

  Uncomfortable with emotion, he turned and left the room.

  Alex stood where he was, listening to the ticking of the clock. He had done the right thing. The pride and satisfaction on his father’s face was proof of that. He’d never seen him so jubilant. And his mother was delighted. Glyn’s parents too. He had made everyone happy by doing what he was supposed to. Everyone but the two people who would suffer for it the most.

  ‘So, you finally did it. Congratulations, brother.’

  Alex turned as Peter walked in. ‘You heard.’

  ‘I just passed Father on the way out. I don’t remember the last time I saw him so elated. Well done.’ Peter put out his hand and grasped his brother’s. ‘At least he’s pleased with one of us.’

  Alex sighed. ‘Give him time, Peter. The more he comes to know Linette, the more he’ll grow to love her.’

  ‘I’d like to think that,’ Peter said. ‘But who knows? Maybe now that you’ve finally done the right thing by Lady Glyn, he’ll find it in his heart to look more kindly on my marriage.’

  The pain came out of nowhere, a swift, sharp jab that tore at Alex’s insides. Because his brother was marrying the woman he loved—and he was marrying the one he had to. ‘Only time will tell,’ Alex said, releasing Peter’s hand. ‘Care to join me for a drink?’

  ‘Why not? It is an auspicious occasion.’

  Alex shot him a keen glance as he walked to the credenza. ‘So why the note of reserve?’

  Peter sighed. ‘Perhaps not so much reserve as regret.’

  ‘Regret? What for? Everyone else is ecstatic.’

  ‘Of course, because you are doing what’s expected of you. What everyone else considers to be the right thing. I just hope it’s the right thing…for you.’

  Alex frowned as he poured brandy into two glasses. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Alex. We both know you’re not marrying Glynnis for love. Oh, I’m sure you like her well enough, but it’s not the same as loving someone, is it? It’s not like wanting to be with that woman because you can’t imagine being with anyone else.’

  Alex replaced the crystal stopper. ‘It’s all very well for you, Peter. You have the luxury of being able to follow your heart. I don’t. You said it yourself. I have my duty to consider. My obligation to the family name.’ He handed his brother a glass, his smile tight. ‘You didn’t have to take that into account when you asked Linette to marry you.’

  The words were harsher than he’d intended, the tone considerably more bitter. But even when he saw the look of hurt surprise on his brother’s face, he couldn’t bring himself to apologise.

  ‘I meant no offence, Alex. I’m just saying—’

  ‘I know what you’re saying, but that’s the difference between you and me. Being the first-born means you have responsibilities. I live with them every day of my life. And whether I like it or not, they do rule my life.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Peter’s expression grew troubled. ‘It was never my intention—’

  ‘I know. It’s simply the way it is.’

  And just like that, Alex’s anger evaporated, leaving him feeling drained and not particularl
y pleased with himself. His brother hadn’t been deserving of the set-down he’d just received, but Alex hadn’t been able to stop once he’d started. He finished his drink and set his glass on the desk. ‘You should be glad you’re not next in line to the title, Peter. There are definitely times when being the heir isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’

  * * *

  Alex waited until both the Leylands and his parents had gone out for a stroll before calling for his horse and heading in the direction of Dove’s Hollow. He had to tell Emma straight away. He didn’t want her learning of his engagement to Glynnis through the village grapevine. She had to hear it from him. He owed her that much at least.

  His thoughts were scattered as he cantered along the road. How would he break the news? Should he do it quickly, hoping it would be less painful, or should he tell her slowly, setting out all his reasons for why he had done what he’d done? Or should he just tell her he was getting married and leave her to work out the rest on her own?

  No, that would surely be the most hurtful. God knew it was going to be agony seeing the look on her face when he told her. To live with the knowledge that they would never be together and that their encounters from here on would have to be of the most polite and innocuous kind.

  All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and make love to her.

  He closed his eyes, shutting out the images. It was too much to bear. As long as he lived, he would never forget the sweetness of holding Emma in his arms, the incredible softness of her skin beneath his fingers, the blatant sensuality of her body pressed against his. She was everything he had ever wanted: the woman he hadn’t known he was looking for. And now she was lost to him.

  Damn.

  * * *

  At Dove’s Hollow, he was shown into the parlour where Ridley and Linette were enjoying a quiet game of cards. They looked up in surprise at his entrance. ‘Lord Stewart!’ Linette said, her eyes darting past him in hopes of seeing his brother.

  ‘Sorry, Linette, Peter’s not with me,’ he said gently. ‘I’ve come on my own. I need…that is, I’d like to speak to your sister.’

  ‘She’s in the garden,’ Ridley said. ‘Doing battle with the angel.’

  Alex smiled, even as Linette frowned, and said, ‘What are you talking about, Ridley? How can anyone do battle with an angel?’

  Alex shared a knowing glance with Ridley. ‘I doubt anyone but your sister could.’

  He found her in the garden, her easel positioned about three feet away from the statue. It looked as though she had started a new sketch and that she was drawing the troublesome angel with charcoal first.

  He stood for a moment, just allowing himself the pleasure of watching her. How had he ever thought her anything less than magnificent? The roundness of her cheek, the delicate curve of her neck and throat, the smoothness of her complexion. She wasn’t wearing her painter’s smock today, protecting her dress with a cloth, and had cast aside her shawl. It was a warm afternoon and she was sitting in the shade of a tree so as not to be browned by the sun. He saw the tempting swell of her breasts rising above the lace edging on her gown and the slender whiteness of an ankle where her gown had pulled up.

  She was glorious. And she would never be his. ‘Emma.’

  She turned, her hand poised above the sketch pad. ‘Alex!’ He saw the pleasure in her eyes, the fleeting moment of joy at seeing him, then watched her smile fade as awareness of their situation came to the fore. ‘Lord Stewart.’ She put down the piece of charcoal, slowly, as though to give herself time to pull a protective cocoon around her. ‘The festivities are over and you’ve come to say goodbye. When do you leave?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Later this week, I suppose.’

  ‘And Lady Glynnis?’

  ‘Tomorrow, with her parents.’

  ‘I see.’ Emma nodded and looked as though she wanted to say more, but in the end she glanced back at the stone angel and said, ‘I’ve started a new sketch. And I’m having more luck with her wing this afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, I see.’ Alex cleared his throat, feeling a lump the size of Gibraltar stuck there. ‘Emma, I have to tell you—’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ she said quietly. ‘I already know.’ She turned to look at him and her face was as white as the statue’s. ‘You and Lady Glynnis are engaged.’

  Alex wished he knew what to say. When had she found out? The servants couldn’t have spread the news that quickly. ‘How did you know?’

  She tried for a smile, but failed. ‘It was a foregone conclusion. When you said she was leaving with her parents in the morning, I knew. It only made sense that you proposed to her before she left.’ Slowly, she stood up, her hands pressed against her sides. ‘Your father must be very pleased.’

  ‘He is.’ The words burned like hot coals against his throat. ‘They all are.’

  ‘Of course. Because it is…as it should be. You did what was expected.’

  ‘Emma—’

  ‘No, please, I beg you!’ She closed her eyes, her voice thick with emotion. ‘It will only make this harder. I wish you…much happiness, Lord Stewart. And Lady Glynnis too.’ She slowly opened her eyes. ‘I wish I could say I don’t like her, but I do. She stood up for Linette at a time when my sister needed it most and I will always think kindly of her for that.’ She paused, as if to draw more air into her lungs. ‘She is a lady in every sense of the word.’

  ‘Yes, she is.’ His own voice was husky, his heart pounding fit to burst. ‘But she is not you.’

  With that, he turned and walked away. He couldn’t bear to spend another moment in her company. If he had, he would have taken her in his arms and made love to her right there, with the damn stone angel looking on. Instead, he clenched his fists at his sides and walked back to where he had left his horse, willing himself to put one foot in front of the other. He knew Emma wouldn’t call him back. That wasn’t her way. Even if she was hurting as badly as he was, she knew what the realities of their lives were and she would abide by them.

  Their worlds were too far apart. And at this moment, they had never been more so.

  Chapter Twelve

  Because she had no choice, Emma went back to the house and, taking Ridley aside, told him about Lady Glynnis and Lord Stewart. She planned on telling the rest of the family over dinner that evening, but she knew it would be kinder to Ridley if she gave him the information in private. He would need time to come to grips with the information and to compose himself, as she had.

  She was not mistaken. He turned pale upon learning of the engagement; Emma saw on his face a reflection of the bleakness she felt within her own heart. ‘So, that’s it then,’ he said in a flat, emotionless voice. ‘They are to be married.’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘He didn’t say. I expect they will discuss a date once they are all back in London.’

  Ridley nodded woodenly. ‘And Glynnis is leaving with her parents tomorrow?’

  ‘That’s what Lord Stewart told me.’

  ‘And then life will revert to normal,’ Ridley said, his expression bleak. ‘All the pieces having fallen into place. All very neat and tidy.’

  ‘Are you going to see her when you return to London?’

  ‘What’s the point?’ Ridley got up and began to walk around. ‘She is now an officially engaged lady. There is no reason for me to call.’

  ‘I’m truly sorry, Ridley,’ Emma said softly. ‘I know this isn’t easy.’

  He stopped in front of the window and gazed out. ‘No, it isn’t. But no one said life was going to be easy. Thank you, Emma. I’d rather have found out like this than at the dinner table, when no doubt everyone will be deliriously happy. You are the only one who understands.’

  Yes, she was. But not for the reasons he thought, and it wasn’t until her brother left the room that Emma finally allowed herself to cry, sobbing as though her heart would break, aware that nothing anyone could have said would have made the news any the less devastating to
hear.

  * * *

  Emma told Linette and her father the news at dinner that evening, and, as expected, they were delighted. Ridley paid diligent attention to his soup and Emma was content to let Linette carry the bulk of the conversation after that. Having discovered a new friend in Alex and a new ally in Lady Glynnis, she was thrilled that the lady was soon to become her sister-in-law.

  On a positive note, it did have the effect of easing Linette’s despair over Lord Widdicombe’s reaction towards her. She had already met with Peter, who had taken pains to assure her their marriage would take place at St David’s as planned, and perhaps seeing in Alex’s engagement the possibility of the earl’s mellowing towards his other son, she was optimistic that everything was going to turn out well.

  Having more of an insight into the situation, Emma did not venture an opinion. How it would play out now was completely out of her hands. She was a pawn in Fate’s game—and she soon found out that the game could change in an instant, and not for the better.

  * * *

  It was a little after ten o’clock the next morning when she made the unwelcome discovery. She set out on a ride, desperate to get out of the house and be alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t wanted to paint or to talk to Linette about the wedding. In fact, if she never heard the word wedding again, she would be just as happy!

  Emma wasn’t surprised to see that Ridley’s chestnut was also gone from the stable. He, too, must have felt a need to get away and be alone with his thoughts. Thank God he didn’t know what was going on between her and Alex. There would have been a small degree of comfort in being able to commiserate with one another over the similarity of their situations, but it would have served little purpose beyond that. They had each lost the person they loved to the person the other one loved.