Another knock sounded at the door, and Emily hurried to tuck away the letter just before Adele poked her head in. “You’re ready? Oh good. Mother is already in a state this morning.”
Emily grimaced. “Whatever is the matter?”
“She’s received an invitation to tea at the Jensens, and she wants to decline.”
“That’s good news, right?” Emily asked. “She’s taken Mr. Jensen off of the list of potential husbands.”
“Yes,” Adele said, flashing a smile, but it didn’t spread to the rest of her face. “But Mother is worried that declining the invitation would set of a round of questions. And so she’s now saying that we’ve wasted too much of the Season on one man.”
Emily released a breath. Something had to be done, but she wasn’t exactly sure what. If only she and Mr. Blackwood were riding through Hyde Park today, they could discuss this. “When does Mr. Downs leave London?”
“In a few days, I believe,” Adele said.
“Then we must do something to turn your mother’s head in favor of Mr. Downs,” Emily said. “But, what, I don’t know.”
Before they could come up with a solution, Jenny was at the door, announcing that Lady Gerrard was ready to leave.
Soon, they were all in the carriage heading to the Blackwoods. Emily hadn’t realized she was both dreading and anticipating the tea. When Marybeth arrived at the same time, Emily’s stomach plummeted. Marybeth looked radiant in a pale peach gown, while Emily was still in her half-mourning dark blue.
They stepped out of the carriage and as the butler swung the door open, Emily saw Mr. Blackwood coming out of what must be a study or library on the left side of the hallway. He greeted Marybeth first, but instead of seeing a glowing appreciation in his eyes for Marybeth, he barely looked at her. Instead, his blue gaze locked with Emily’s. It was then she knew she’d gotten the sketch of him from that morning all wrong. She hadn’t drawn his expression nearly intense enough or his features handsome enough.
Emily’s face warmed, and she hoped that she wasn’t blushing. She suddenly realized she hadn’t replied to his note. The group moved into the drawing room where a cheerful fire was burning, and Mr. Blackwood made his apologies, saying he had a prior engagement with Mr. Jonathan Downs. And he said all of this while casting glances at Emily. Her face flamed again, and she hoped no one else in the room noticed the silent attention he was paying her.
“Perhaps we can invite him over one evening, Mother,” Mr. Blackwood said. “He’d love to meet familiar neighbors amid all the London Season whirl.”
“I am in agreement,” his mother replied.
For a moment, Emily wondered if Mr. Blackwood had informed his mother of their plan. She was playing into it so well.
“What do you think?” his mother said, turning to the rest of them in the drawing room. “Shall we put together an evening that includes our future vicar?”
It was everything that Emily could do to not meet Adele’s gaze.
“That would be wonderful,” Marybeth spoke first, and for once Emily was grateful for the woman’s presence.
Mr. Blackwood gave her a half bow. “I’ll inform Mr. Downs then today, and I’m sure he’d be delighted to accept any manner of invitation. But I’ll leave the specific details to the ladies.”
His mother murmured something, and then bid him farewell.
Mr. Blackwood was out of the room and leaving the townhouse before Emily could quite comprehend what had just happened. If it had been up to her, she couldn’t have planned this better herself.
Chapter Eleven
“No, hand me the navy vest,” Edward told his valet. He wasn’t usually so particular in his appearance, but he’d awakened early this morning with thoughts of what the day might bring. First, this morning he’d be taking Miss Foster for a ride in Hyde Park. Since it wouldn’t be the fashionable hour quite yet, he hoped that they’d have plenty of time for undisturbed conversation.
She’d written to him last night accepting his invitation. And then, Edward had promptly stayed awake most of the night, thinking about Miss Foster and her dark curls and the way they’d shared a secret smile and how he wouldn’t mind kissing her.
When he pulled up to the Gerrard’s home, the weather had played havoc already. The sun had settled behind a bank of clouds, and a stiff wind had started. As he strode up the stairs, he found that his heart was pounding. Partially because he was looking forward to this time with Miss Foster, and partially because he was becoming more and more convinced that despite what his mother said, he wasn’t willing to enter into any marriage of convenience.
He wanted to marry someone he could love as well as be friends with. Someone who would be a good companion and a good mother and someone with whom he could share his interests.
The butler opened the door after Edward knocked on the door, and moments later, Miss Foster appeared. She wore a dark lavender pelisse over her dress, trimmed in off-white. Not that Edward made a habit of noticing details of a woman’s clothing, but he noticed quite a few details about Miss Foster.
“Are you ready?” he asked. Thankfully, no one else came to the hall to greet him. No Lady Gerrard to deal with.
“I am,” Miss Foster said, giving him a smile that brought warmth to the depth of her brown eyes.
He extended his arm, and she wrapped her hand around it, and then he walked her down the steps toward the carriage.
As Edward settled next to her, he said, “The weather is a bit brisk, so we might have the park to ourselves. Unless you want to bow out and do this another time.”
She turned her face up to meet his gaze. “I rather like the idea of being the only ones in Hyde Park.”
He smiled, then flicked the reins of his two horses. “Then here we go.”
They spoke little on the journey to the park, and Edward regretted not bringing a heavy blanket to place over Miss Foster. She didn’t act particularly cold, but the wind wasn’t all that enjoyable. Thankfully, once they started to circle the park, the wind was cut down by the surrounding trees.
A handful of other carriages were moving about; most of them had hoods up. It seemed their occupants had paid much more attention to the blustery weather.
“I wanted to thank you for coming to Adele’s rescue,” Miss Foster said. “What you have done for her cannot be repaid.”
“Before you thank me entirely, let’s see it through first,” he said. “By the way, your aunt and mother will be receiving an invitation this morning to a soiree that my mother is hosting that will include one Mr. Jonathan Downs.”
“Oh,” Miss Foster said, grasping his arm. “Truly? You’ve arranged it already?”
Edward chuckled. “Apparently my mother appreciated my suggestion.” He looked down at Miss Foster’s hand still on his arm and was quite pleased to see it there.
“Does your mother know of our concoctions?” she asked.
“I might have dropped a hint or two,” he said, glancing at her.
Her eyes widened. “You told her? What did she think?”
Edward paused a moment. “She thought I shouldn’t meddle, and then she questioned why I had involved myself so much.”
Miss Foster removed her hand and folded them in her lap. “And what did you say?”
Edward slowed the horses and brought the carriage to a stop near a grove of trees that offered more protection from the wind. He looped the reins on the foot post, then shrugged out of his overcoat.
He turned toward Miss Foster and draped his coat over her shoulders. The article of clothing practically drowned her, but made her look much warmer. Edward was plenty warm himself. He’d probably stay warm even if it started to snow.
“My mother is a smart woman,” Edward said. “If I hadn’t told her, she would have figured something was going on anyway. I have turned down invitations to London all of my life . . . until now.”
Miss Foster was staring at him, her expression quite unreadable.
But that didn’t slow Ed
ward down. He intended to find out exactly what this woman was made of and if he was in the right to put his heart on the line. “After the soiree tonight, there’s a fight near Bond Street.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? Can I go with you?’
Edward stared at her. “Go with me?”
“Don’t women ever go to the matches?”
“Uh, not proper ladies,” Edward said. This was unexpected. “A fisticuffs match isn’t a place you’d enjoy.”
Miss Foster bit her lip and looked away. If it wasn’t for the sound of an approaching carriage, Edward might have bent toward her and kissed those lips.
“What if I was able to escape the house unnoticed and meet you somewhere on the street?” she said at last.
Edward stilled. She meant to sneak out and attend the fisticuffs match? He scrubbed a hand over his face. It would be an adventure to take her along, but he feared for her reputation if she were caught. “Are you willing to take that risk?” he asked, hardly believing she’d go through with it.
“My abigail can help me,” she said. “Jenny is as loyal as they come. I’ll disguise myself, and no one will know.”
Edward wasn’t sure if he should laugh or try to dissuade her.
“What do you think?” she asked, peering up at him.
Apparently she was completely serious. The other carriage had long since passed, and the only thing that accompanied them was the wind blowing her curls against her neck. Edward couldn’t help himself, not if his good sense told him that Miss Foster might not be romantically interested in him. He leaned closer and she didn’t move; in fact, she turned more fully toward him and closed her eyes. This brought a smile to Edward, since it appeared that she was waiting for him.
He pressed his mouth against hers, gently. Her lips were cool from the wind, but when she placed her hand on his chest and curled her fingers around his lapel, everything seemed to warm between them. Edward deepened the kiss, testing, and she responded by moving closer and softening against him. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even closer, kissing her until they were both breathless.
When they finally broke apart, Edward’s heart was pounding, and he felt as if he were weightless. “Miss Foster . . .” he started, not entirely sure what he was about to say.
“You might need to call me Emily now,” she said, the edges of her kissed lips turning up.
Edward laughed. “My mother would be the first to notice the change.”
“All right, then how about only in private then?”
“Only if you call me Edward.”
Her smile bloomed.
Edward touched her cheek, running his fingers along her smooth skin. “You have been in my thoughts night and day, dear Emily,” he said. “How will I ever sleep now?”
Her brows lifted as she stared at him, and he wanted to kiss her again, but was afraid he’d already taken too much liberty.
“Perhaps you can ask a physician for a sleeping draught,” she said, her face flushing.
“Perhaps,” he murmured and kissed her again, this time briefly because the unmistakable sound of a carriage could be heard. He drew away reluctantly, but also gratefully. His thoughts had scattered in multiple directions. But most of all, he was wondering what Emily Foster would say if he proposed to her right here, right now. The realization should have shocked him, but it didn’t. In fact, it had probably been a long time in coming. It had just taken a moment of privacy to solidify his thoughts.
“Good morning,” a male voice called out.
Edward turned to see a gentleman who looked vaguely familiar. The man was riding in a carriage with an elderly woman, who Edward surmised was the man’s mother.
“Hello, Mr. Gifford,” Emily said.
Ah, Gifford. Edward had crossed paths with him at Oxford years ago.
“And Mr. Blackwood,” Gifford said. “What a surprise. I didn’t expect to see you here with Miss Foster.” He nodded to the woman next to him. “This is my mother.”
Both Edward and Emily murmured their greetings.
Gifford slapped his hand against his thigh. “Oh, that’s right. You two live in the same county. Practically neighbors.”
Edward decided not to correct him. He stole a glance at Emily. Her cheeks were still flushed and her lips swollen from their shared kisses. He wondered exactly how observant Gifford was. Apparently, not very.
“Are you free tomorrow, Miss Foster?” Gifford asked her. “If the weather is fair, I’d love to take you for a ride.”
Edward almost smirked. Why would another man invite a woman on an outing when she was clearly on an outing with another gentleman?
Emily gave him a pleasant smile. “My mother just arrived in London, so I will need to speak with her first in case she has already made plans.”
“Excellent,” Gifford said, completely nonplussed. “I’ll send around a note.”
After they made their farewells, Edward was relieved to see Gifford go. Edward was very interested in questioning Emily about her acquaintance with the man. “Have you formed a bond with Mr. Gifford?” he asked when the carriage was well away.
“Heavens no,” Emily said. She slid her hand around his arm, nestling against him. “Why ever would I do that?”
Edward swallowed. “Well, then. That is pleasing to hear. We best get back before your mother or aunt send out a search party.”
Emily just nodded, keeping her gaze forward, but he didn’t miss the smile curving her lips.
He flicked the reins, and the horses started to move again, heading through the park and back to the residential streets.
Edward had to admit to himself that this had been a successful venture into the park. He hadn’t intended to kiss Emily, but now that he had, it was easier to approach his mother on a serious topic since his decision had solidified. A decision that didn’t involve Marybeth or any other woman of his mother’s choosing. Marriage was really the only solution now for him and Emily, because he fully intended in securing many more kisses in the future.
As he pulled the carriage in front of the Gerrard’s house, Emily said, “Tonight at the corner, then?”
She’d remembered.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said, fully expecting for her to cancel beforehand.
Chapter Twelve
“I love you,” Adele gushed to Emily. “Tonight was a dream, and if Mother doesn’t give her blessing to a union between me and Mr. Downs, then there’s nothing else to be done.”
Emily hugged her cousin, her heart swelling. She was truly happy for Adele. Mr. Blackwood’s—Edward’s—brilliance had played beautifully tonight at the soiree his mother had hosted at their townhouse. The party was only an intimate number of guests, including Mr. Jonathan Downs.
From the moment of the vicar’s arrival to well after his departure, both Edward and his mother had paid him compliments and presented him in the greatest light. There is nothing more important in this life than caring for another’s needs, had been repeated more than once by Mrs. Blackwood. The entire parish will welcome the new vicar, was another phrase repeated.
And Mr. Downs had been the perfect gentleman, elegant in both dress and manners. He’d paid the sincerest compliments to Lady Gerrard that she couldn’t help but be pleased with. Emily had caught Edward’s gaze upon her more than once, and it was all that she could do to refrain from blushing every few minutes throughout the evening.
The thought of his stolen kisses in the park had made her feel over-warm. And by the noticeable absence of Marybeth, it was clear that Edward had said something to his mother. This realization had only sent her heart racing. First, there was Mrs. Blackwood’s favorable behavior to Mr. Downs, and then there was her extra kindness toward Emily. Another person might not have noticed it, but she had.
“Well, good night,” Adele said with a broad smile. “I, for one, will be dreaming of a future I thought I might never have.” Her words came out tremulous.
“You deserve every happiness,” Emily
said, grasping her cousin’s hand and kissing her cheek.
When Adele had finally left her room, Emily rang her bell for Jenny. Once her abigail had arrived, Emily told Jenny of her plan to attend the fisticuffs match. Jenny listened in astonishment, her eyes wide as Emily unfurled her plan to meet Edward at the corner of their street.
“And, you’re calling him Edward now?” Jenny said, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes. For an abigail, she was certainly cheeky.
“Well, he asked me to,” Emily said, not mentioning the fact that she’d asked him to call her Emily first, and that was after a rather thorough kiss.
Jenny was quiet for a moment. “Miss Foster, I’ve gone along with your desires to date. I’ve even delivered and picked up letters for you. This new venture is quite the extreme, and I know it’s not my place to say so, but I can’t keep quiet on this.”
“I’ve already made the decision,” Emily said, crossing to the wardrobe and scanning the contents. “None of these cloaks will do. I need to borrow clothing from you so that I’m not seen as upper class.”
Jenny didn’t move for a moment, then she lowered her head and left the room. When she returned, she had several items of clothing draped over her arm. Emily changed quickly, and then they only had to wait until the house had settled for the night and all was clear.
The next hour felt like ten hours, but finally, Jenny declared that all was quiet and everyone in the household was sleeping. Jenny led the way as they crept through the hall, down the back set of stairs and out the servant’s door that led to the small herb garden on the side of the house. From there, they made their way around the house and out the front gate.
Once on the street, the night air was colder than Emily expected, and she was grateful for the heavy cloak she wore and one of Jenny’s warm wool dresses.
They hurried along the sidewalk and turned the corner. There, not a dozen paces away, awaited Edward’s carriage.
Emily had never been so relieved in her life. If they’d had to wait on the street, there was no telling who might come by and see them.
A Season in London (Timeless Regency Collection Book 6) Page 14