‘My sisters, you mean?’
‘I do. They don’t want you to marry her either, I can tell you that much. Oh, they haven’t said anything, but I’ve watched them together when you aren’t around and Miss Carlton isn’t trying to make a good impression upon you. They ignore her and she them. Besides, I don’t think either of your sisters is that keen on having a season.’ He chuckled. ‘Certainly not Emma.’
‘Well, there is that. As to the females here this week, I’ve had more than enough simpering and giggling to last me a lifetime. If I was considering tying the knot, their behaviour has made me change my mind. It’s not as though I have given any of them reason to expect—’
‘You don’t have to justify yourself to anyone,’ Paul told him, watching with a critical eye as Luke arranged his tie. ‘All you need to do is make yourself scarce when the first waltz strikes up. You know as well as I do that even country ball-goers like their traditions, and if you, as host and a single man generally believed to be on the point of matrimony, dance that waltz then…well, you will have made a rod for your own back.’
‘I have no desire to waltz with anyone,’ Luke said, thinking of a slender little thing in violet silk whom he would very much like to hold in his arms. Shocked by the turn his thoughts had taken, he ran a brush through his tangled hair and quickly donned the rest of his clothing.
The two friends stood side by side, both impeccably attired, and examined their reflections.
‘Right,’ Luke said briskly. ‘We’ll do. Come along, Paul. Let’s get this over with.’
Chapter Sixteen
Luke stood with Emma as she smiled and curtsied, shook hands and smiled some more, probably worried that her features would become stuck in a permanent rictus grin and everyone would think that madness ran in their family. Finally, the last of the guests made their way into the makeshift ballroom and none of them had questioned Emma’s right to act as their hostess. In London it would have been frowned upon, the event ostracised by society’s outraged elite, who were sticklers for protocol. But this was not London and Luke, when she’d raised her doubts about her suitability, had told her in no uncertain terms that this was his house and he would not be told by society how to conduct himself within it.
The first hurdle had been cleared and Emma allowed herself a cautious sigh of relief. Luke had had to endure some very intrusive and not very subtle questions about his marital intentions as he greeted their guests. He bore them all with stoicism, not allowing his neighbours’ curiosity to rattle him, but he could tell from Emma’s anxious expression that she felt guilty because this ball—the entire party—had been an anathema for him. Worse, he’d probably failed to hide the fact that he’d only tolerated it for her sake. Luke chastised himself for not keeping his feelings under better guard.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his earlier sombre mood lifting as he observed the pleasure she took from a ritual he found so tedious.
Emma looked up at him and flashed a radiant smile. ‘Did I do things right?’
‘Perfectly right. I am very proud of you. And you look very grown up. I shall have to beat all the young men off with a club, I can quite see that, since none of them are good enough for my sister.’
Emma laughed and blushed. ‘Hardly. But now, we can circulate. And you can even dance, if you feel so inclined.’ Emma chuckled at Luke’s appalled expression. ‘Clearly you do not, but you cannot ignore our guests completely.’
Alvin approached, smiling. ‘Ah, Emma, take pity on an old man and dance with me.’
She laughed. ‘With pleasure, although don’t expect me to make allowances for your decrepitude.’
Luke watched them go and found himself smiling. He retreated to the side of the ballroom—a combination of the spacious entrance vestibule and drawing room with its doors thrown wide to accommodate the throng. The smaller reception room had been turned into a cards room, to which Luke intended to make a rapid escape. But something held him back. Miss Latimer was drawing far too much attention to herself for his liking. Not that she’d done anything to bring that situation about, he was obliged to concede, but that gown displayed her charms far too graphically for Luke’s comfort, turning her into a magnet for half the male eyes in the room. In fairness, the gown was his grandmother’s selection and he very much doubted if Miss Latimer realised quite how revealing it would actually be, but he still placed the blame upon her slender shoulders because she had disappointed him.
He shook his head, wondering if he was sickening for something. He was not, and never had been, a man who lusted after his servants. Not that Miss Latimer was a servant, not precisely, but he did pay her salary and she was beholden to him for her livelihood, which made her his responsibility. He despised the stories he’d heard about some of his ancestors who compromised any servant that took their fancy as though it was their right and gave no second thought to the consequences. Luke was not that sort of man and sincerely hoped that he never would be.
At least Carlton hadn’t approached Miss Latimer, which was something. He had taken Miss Vaughn in to dinner and had clung to her side ever since. If Miss Latimer was disappointed by his inconsistency she gave no sign, and instead remained beside the countess, who thankfully had adopted more conventional attire that evening, at least by her standards, and had not made herself a figure of ridicule. Grandmamma appeared to be having a fine old time of it. Luke managed an affectionate smile as he watched her holding court, entertaining the small crowd that had gathered around her chair with stories about some of the guests’ less stellar moments in a voice loud enough for the subjects of those stories to overhear her.
The jackals were gathering, not necessarily attracted by his grandmother’s recollections. If Miss Latimer had been taken in by Carlton, she would be completely out of her depth with some of the predatory rogues surrounding her now, none of whom shared Luke’s disinclination to exploit their positions for their own gratification. Luke leaned against a pillar and kept her in his line of sight as he chatted to some of the other men, ready to intervene if anyone became too demanding of Miss Latimer’s attention.
His plan was thwarted when his secluded spot was spotted and he was accosted by several matrons in succession, all with their insipid daughters in tow.
‘Go and dance, Luke,’ his grandmother said loudly and very imperiously, drawing the attention of everyone in the near vicinity. ‘That pillar has stood for generations. I dare say it won’t crumble if you remove your shoulder from it.’
‘I was just about to do precisely that, Grandmamma,’ Luke replied in an urbane tone, bowing to the closest young woman.
It would be as well to get it over with, he had already decided, as he stepped onto the floor with the furiously blushing girl. Country dances were not too intimate and if he endured a few of those he could legitimately disappear when a waltz beckoned.
He partnered several girls, none of them bearing the name Carlton. Miss Carlton retaliated by dancing every dance and somehow managed to ensure that she was always in the same set as Luke. She preened, smiled and flirted, clearly trying to impress him. He wanted to tell her that she was wasting her energy.
He was out of breath when the opening stanza of a waltz finally struck up. He sensed all eyes upon him but pretended not to notice. Instead he smiled when Alvin approached him, gave a nod of approval and watched as his friend then bowed before Emma and offered her his hand. She looked taken aback for a moment or two, but the smile that graced her pretty face left Luke no doubt that his friend’s feelings for his sister were reciprocated.
Emma didn’t seem to hear the sudden buzz of conversation that their waltzing together engendered or notice the fact that no one else immediately joined them on the floor. They had it completely to themselves, watched with interest by over a hundred pairs of eyes. He could see that no one was sure whether to applaud. Was this a declaration they had not heard about, or simply Alvin staking a claim?
As his sister and friend were slowly joined by other couples,
Luke took the opportunity to slip away to the cardroom.
*
Emma was in seventh heaven, held in the circle of Alvin’s strong arms as her feet effortlessly followed where his led, feeling as though they were floating several inches above the floor. He had danced with her once and was under no obligation to do so for a second time; especially not a waltz. She barely spared a thought for the fact that Luke had chosen not to take to the floor. Breathless and dizzy with anticipation, all she cared about was Alvin and the look of unguarded passion he focused upon her. The nod of consent sent his way by Luke had not escaped her notice, causing her to wonder…to dare to hope.
‘It’s a triumph,’ he said softly.
‘What is?’
Alvin chuckled. ‘The ball, you goose.’
‘Oh that.’ What had seemed so vitally important to her that morning no longer registered on her consciousness. ‘Well, I didn’t do very much.’
Alvin span them into a turn, expertly avoiding collisions with other couples on the increasingly crowded floor. ‘And now it’s almost over.’
‘And better yet, Luke has run away. I am so very glad that he seems to have decided against matrimony for the time being. It would be much better if he waited until he finds a lady who stimulates his interest.’
‘That is what we’ve all be trying to tell him.’
‘He can be uncommonly stubborn.’
Alvin laughed. ‘A family failing, no doubt.’
‘I blame Grandmamma. She has always been so outspoken, so sure of herself, that we have all grown up in her image.’
‘You could do a great deal worse,’ he said, smiling as he glanced at the countess, seated at the edge of the ballroom and waving her stick around as she emphasised some point she seemed determined to make. The dancers brave enough to venture anywhere near her were in danger of being decapitated, but happily no damage had yet been inflicted.
‘Yes, I think so too. Grandmamma is very dear to us all. I am glad to see her restored to her old self again, thanks to Flora’s efforts.’
‘People constantly surprise one. A girl of Miss Latimer’s tender years and rarefied background is the very last person you would expect to be able to bring your grandmother out of her depression. However, I don’t want to speak about her.’ He tightened his hold on Emma’s waist and led them into another turn.
‘Then what…’ Emma swallowed, acutely conscious of Alvin’s musculature having the most disconcerting effect upon her. He was Luke’s close friend, a neighbour, her friend. But she wanted him to be so much more than that, and didn’t think she would ever recover from her disappointment if…when he took a wife. Unless, of course, he selected her. She vowed to take heart from his choosing to waltz with her and give him every possible encouragement. ‘We have to talk about something,’ she said, her voice sounding unnaturally high. ‘It will seem strange if we do not.’
‘And you care about what seems strange and what does not?’
She laughed and glanced at Grandmamma. ‘Hardly.’
Emma fluttered her fingers at Flora, who glided past them in Charlie’s arms. It seemed that the dance had only just started, yet it came to an abrupt end long before Emma was prepared to give it up. She dipped a reluctant curtsey as Alvin released her from his arms.
‘Come with me,’ he said, grasping her hand, a rough edge to his voice.
Glad that he didn’t seem ready to part with her, Emma followed him onto the terrace, where several other couples were already enjoying the night air. He released her hand and placed his own on the small of her back instead, steering her around the side of the terrace until they came to an area that they had all to themselves. She glanced up at him, aware that something fundamental had changed in his attitude towards her that night. His eyes glistened as he again took her hand and raised it to his lips, smiling in a manner that felt as though it heated the air between them.
‘I have always looked upon you as an annoying little sister.’
She nodded and swallowed, hoping he hadn’t brought her out here, raising her expectations, just to tell her that situation hadn’t changed. Perhaps he had sensed her interest in him and intended to let her down gently. Mortified by that possibility, she reasoned that he would hardly have increased her expectations by waltzing with her if that was the case.
‘But now, seeing you here this week, spending time in your company, getting to know the adult you have become has made me realise that my feelings for you are now anything but brotherly.’
She blinked up at him, mesmerised by the dark, smouldering luminescence that was reflected in his eyes. ‘They are not?’ Her voice came out as a nervous squeak.
‘Luke is not the only one considering settling down. I have been thinking along those lines for some months.’ He allowed a significant pause, his expression ardently sincere. ‘I am totally averse to a marriage of convenience, which is why I have kept my aspirations to myself.’ He gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘I am not as wealthy as Luke, nor am I titled, but I am comfortably situated, and I have impeccable connections. If word leaked out that I was contemplating matrimony, then my time would no longer be my own.’
She fought back a smile and gave an understanding nod. ‘Yes, I can quite see that.’
‘I would much prefer a wife who likes me for who I am; not one who thinks only of the advantages to be had from the match. Seeing you so sophisticated, so capable, so very comfortable not to be immersed within the ranks of society’s elite, made me realise just how dear to me you actually are.’
‘Because I don’t talk about fashion all day and have a brain in my head.’ She nodded again, more emphatically this time. ‘Yes, I can quite see your dilemma.’
‘Stop teasing me, wench! I am attempting to express my feelings.’
‘Oh, then by all means, don’t let me stop you.’
‘If my declaration either embarrasses or amuses you, say so at once, and I will be forever silent on the matter. But you must know what is in my heart.’
She offered him an encouraging smile. ‘Then by all means tell me. You have my complete attention.’
‘You minx!’ He sucked air through his teeth. ‘You are enjoying making me wait for your answer.’
Emma canted her head, suddenly bursting with happiness now that she was actually on the point of achieving her heart’s desire. ‘I would give you one, but for the fact that I do not recall you asking me an actual question.’
‘We have known one another for long enough to be confident that we would suit, my love.’ He fell to one knee in front of her. ‘I can offer you a comfortable home, everything your heart desires and I speak to you with Luke’s permission. Make me the happiest of men, my sweet Emma, and agree to become my wife.’
‘Yes!’ she cried joyously, throwing her arms wide, thinking now was not the time to tease him, just in case he changed his mind. ‘A thousand times yes.’
Alvin got up, sent her a wickedly infectious smile and pulled her into his arms.
*
Flora’s enjoyment of her first ever ball was tempered by her anxiety. She had heard more than one disgruntled comment about the earl’s behaviour, which she thought unjustified. It was not as though he had actually committed himself to matrimony. If he had decided against it at present, it was unreasonable to expect him to waltz with any of the candidates for his hand, thereby giving rise to unfounded speculation.
She smiled when she noticed Emma and Mr Watson returning from the terrace, both smiling broadly. This would no doubt spark even more speculation. Charlie, when she had waltzed with him, warned her that Alvin had asked his brother’s permission to address her.
‘She will accept him,’ Flora assured him. ‘She’s been mooning after him all the week.’
‘Then I’m glad. It takes the pressure off Luke.’
‘Quite.’
‘They aren’t making an announcement until tomorrow. Alvin didn’t want to draw attention to Luke’s lack of an announcement, if you see what I mean.’
Flora assured him that she did. She wondered if she ought to tell Charlie what she had overheard in Swindon. He would be able to keep his brother safe from predatory females—with no secret passageways required. Unfortunately, they were surrounded by too many people for her to be able to speak without raising her voice and risk being overheard. He would probably take some convincing and she could hardly ask for a private interview in order to explain her dilemma. That would be breaking about a hundred rules of conduct. Besides, she couldn’t leave the countess for that long without arousing her suspicions.
She had only taken to the floor twice—with Charlie and then with one of the houseguests. The rest of the time she remained with the countess, although she’d been flattered by the amount of attention and the number of compliments she received from strangers—all of them men. The ladies, she had noticed, eyed her with suspicion, seemingly unable to decide whether she represented a threat to their ambitions. Were she not so worried about the earl, who didn’t really deserve her compassion, she would have found the entire affair immensely enjoyable.
Now it was gone two in the morning. Flora was tired, her nerves frazzled because of what she was going to have to do in order to save the earl from a disastrous marriage. The countess must be dead on her feet, but the ball was still in full swing and her ladyship had declined Flora’s three previous suggestions that they retire. She hadn’t seen Miss Carlton’s distinctive silver gown anywhere recently and if she didn’t have a care she would beat Flora to his lordship’s room. More in hope than expectation, Flora suggested retiring for a fourth time. Happily, on this occasion, the countess agreed to go up.
‘These things ain’t what they used to be in my day,’ she complained as she leaned heavily on Flora’s arm, taking the stairs at a snail’s pace. ‘Young things nowadays have no stamina. We used to dance until dawn and then jump into carriages and take breakfast in the park—or in a bedchamber where we had no business being.’
A Sense of Belonging (Perceptions Book 1) Page 21