by Joan Smith
Nick had seen James lead Emma toward the refreshment parlor. He felt they would be safe there for a few minutes, but uncertainty soon sent him pelting off after them. When he saw they weren’t there, he flew into alarm.
“Have you seen Lord James?” he asked the servant behind the table.
“His lordship had a bottle of champagne taken to the library, milord.”
“Did he indeed!” His best champagne no doubt, the scoundrel! He darted off to the library, hardly knowing what he might find, only to see Emma and James sitting quietly at the side of the room, with an elderly couple seated by the grate to play propriety. He slowed his pace as he walked toward the sofa.
“Well, and what are you up to?” he asked.
“We were just discussing love,” James replied.
“At first sight,” Emma added with a glinting smile. “Or should I say at first reading?” Nick realized James had revealed the letter dispatched to Lady Revson.
“Emma doesn’t believe in it,” James said. “She says it is only fascination. It would be interesting to hear an older gentleman’s opinion on the matter. What do you think, Cousin? Draw up a chair and give us the benefit of your decades of experience among the petticoats.”
Nick’s jaw tightened. “Decades of experience” indeed! He made him sound like an old lecher.
“I think such deep, philosophical discussions shouldn’t be held at a rout party. I threw this do to introduce you to the local Society, James. You aren’t meeting anyone in here.”
“I am meeting with everyone who matters to me—Emma,” James replied, with a languishing look at her.
“Hansard is right,” Emma said. “We shall continue this fascin—this discussion—another time.”
Lord James laughed softly. “The heart is quicker than the tongue. I, too, found it fascinating, Emma. À demain.” He rose, touched her fingers once more, and bowed.
Nick assisted Emma from the sofa, took a firm grip on her elbow, and ushered her out of the room. “I wouldn’t encourage him,” he said, rather grimly.
“Strange, I thought that was exactly what you hoped for, since you summoned him here to court me.”
“Is that what he said?”
“Do you deny it?”
“If I had realized he was such a loose screw I never would have invited him.”
“The man is a menace. He could talk a cow out of her calf.”
“I hope he hasn’t been—annoying you?”
“Oh no! I am seldom annoyed when a gentleman finds me irresistible. It is quite a novelty for me. And I had to overcome a severe handicap as well. Jamie usually digs in his heels and bucks when he is sent off to court a lady.”
“Jackass!”
“You are too hard on yourself, Nick.”
“I didn’t mean me!”
“Oh, sorry.”
He glared. “He mentioned seeing you tomorrow. It would be unwise to go off alone with him. He’s been reading John Donne.” Emma frowned. “Don’t ask,” he said wearily.
At the door of the ballroom, Emma stopped. “You brought him here in the hope of making a match between us, Nick. Now that your plan shows some sign of success, you seem unhappy with the notion.”
“The boy’s an idiot!”
“There is that, but he’s rather a sweet idiot,” she said with a forgiving smile. “I think I can lead him. He seems biddable. And as you said yourself, his papa is an earl; Lord James has expectations, and there is the family mansion in London....”
Nick hardly knew what to say. It was all true. James had expressed an interest in marriage, not an affair. Surely an excess of passion for one’s intended bride should be no deterrent to a happy marriage. Yet he was deeply dissatisfied with the notion of James marrying Emma. The boy was unstable, he told himself. He’d soon tire of his bride and be haring off after other girls.
“I thought you were in no hurry to marry,” he said.
“Oh, I am not in a hurry—unless I hear Aunt Hildegarde is on her way, despite the leaking roof,” she added, for she was enjoying Nick’s discomfort.
Nick had the cotillion with Emma, but it was James who escorted her to dinner. He also secured her company for the country dances that came later. That rowdy affair gave little opportunity for dalliance, however, and he behaved himself moderately well.
Nick and James went to the door to say good night to the parting guests.
“Will seven tomorrow be too early for me to call?” James asked, clutching Emma’s hand.
“Seven?” Emma exclaimed. “Why—it is almost too late, if you wish to ride or drive.”
“Ah, you misunderstand me, Emma. I meant seven in the morning.”
Her lips quirked in a smile. “That is a little early for me. Shall we say, ten?”
“But that is eight hours away!”
“Well, we have to sleep,” she pointed out.
“True, but not together.”
“James!” Nick cried.
“Sorry, Cuz,” he said perfunctorily, then he returned his besotted gaze to Emma. “To sleep, perchance to dream...”
“Say good night, James,” Nick said through clenched lips.
“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” Emma said, and blew them both a kiss. The silver tinkle of her laughter wafted on the air behind her.
“She really is something special.” James sighed. “My inclination, if not my judgment, nudges me toward the altar.”
“Then your judgment is at fault. She is worlds too good for you.”
“True. I shall put my faith in my inclination in this case. How shall I ever thank you for calling her to my attention, Cuz?”
“You might begin by not acting like a demmed fool.”
“Oh, but the ladies like that, you know. Better than scowling at ‘em as I notice you do. No need to act so barbarous and surly. Remember Seneca’s question, Hansard. ‘When shall we live, if not now?’ All your scowls haven’t gotten you a wife, and you’re middle-aged. But you’re not too old a dog to learn a new trick.”
“When I want a wife, I won’t have to resort to trickery to win her,” Nick said, and strode off angrily to his study to solemnly ponder James’s puerilities. Barbarous? Surly? Middle-aged? Bah! What did that unlicked cub know about love? He only wanted to bed Emma. This hardly improved his mood or lessened the need for vigilance.
Chapter Ten
James was an eager suitor, but he was not a cagey one. He made the error of asking Nick, the next morning, where the most romantic ride on his estate was to be found.
“Emma mentioned riding or driving,” he said. “Riding lends itself better to forwarding our friendship than driving. The ladies always want to go to a village and poke about the shops.”
“Emma likes riding,” Nick replied, thinking this a relatively harmless pastime. “Try the west meadow. You’ll find fences and ditches there.”
“That sounds excellent for riding. You and I must go there one day, but for dalliance, I envision a babbling brook, surrounded by trees, with a small area of soft grass, away from view of any chance passerby. Flowers would be nice, wildflowers for choice, to perfume the air.”
Nick bit back his anger and said curtly, “Emma likes to ride in her own spinney and meadows. My brook hasn’t been landscaped for seduction.”
“You really ought to do something about that, Cousin. It wouldn’t be much trouble. I daresay there are willows growing there. One seldom sees a brook without willows nearby. You could lop down a couple of them and plant grass. Or better, sweet clover, starred with wildflowers.”
“Why not a bed?” Nick asked sarcastically.
James considered it a moment. “Too obvious. A grassy bank makes a pliant mattress.”
When the troublesome guest took to the roof after breakfast with a telescope, Nick had a fair notion he was scouting out a spot to romance Emma. He had a fair notion which spot James would choose, too. There was a clearing by the brook, such as he had mentioned, on Emma’s property. Nick gave them twenty min
utes’ lead, at which time he headed for the brook. He found them right where he expected, but there was nothing amiss with their behavior.
They sat side by side, laughing and talking. James was making a daisy chain for Emma. She already wore a flower diadem on her head. She had removed her bonnet, and James his curled beaver. A daisy was stuck in the rim of the latter. Neither of them seemed surprised or dismayed to see him.
“Nick,” Emma said, glancing up. She looked lovely, with a soft light glowing in her eyes and a gentle smile on her lips. If she wasn’t in love, she wasn’t far from it.
“I found the ideal spot!” James said. “When I told Emma what I had in mind—don’t stare like that! I promised her I would behave. Anyhow, she knew the very place. It even has flowers. Emma has never made a daisy chain. Imagine!”
Nick dismounted and joined them. “Odd you didn’t know of this spot, Cousin,” James said mischievously.
“I’m not so familiar with Lady Capehart’s property as I am with my own.”
“It’s perfectly idyllic,” James said, looking all around at the flower-spangled grass and the babbling brook. “One would hardly be surprised to see Echo and Narcissus loitering here amidst the woodland nymphs.”
Nick said, “If you’re through with that daisy chain, I thought I might give you a tour of the estate, James.”
“Emma’s or your own?” James inquired.
“Waterdown,” Nick said.
“Ah, I thought perhaps as Whitehern had been held out as a lure—Don’t blush, Hansard, Emma is familiar with your scheme. I believe in honesty in my dealings.”
Nick was aware of Emma’s laughing face without looking at her. She was enjoying his embarrassment! “Honesty is one word for it,” he said dampingly.
“And indiscretion is another,” James added, nodding. “Perhaps you’re right. I do tend to indiscretion. Very well, Hansard. I shall join you, after we accompany Emma home. We can’t very well leave her here alone. I am always interested to tour estates. One never knows, I might have one myself one day. You, for instance, are still single and have no son to leave Waterdown to.”
“I haven’t given up hope,” Nick said.
They accompanied Emma, still wearing her daisy chain and carrying her flower wreath, to her home.
“Until this evening, Emma,” James said, when they reached the stable. He lifted her down from her mount with style and agility, whirling her in the air to reveal her lace-edged petticoat and her dainty ankles.
When Emma’s feet were back on the ground, she glanced at Nick. “I hope you will join us for dinner as well, Nick,” she said.
“I tentatively accepted on both our behalfs,” James told his host.
“Then it seems the matter has been settled without consulting me,” Nick said, rather brusquely.
He was aware that he was being surly, but some demon drove him to it. It was seeing James and Emma together, on such close terms after only twenty-four hours. At this rate she’d be shackled to the wretched boy before they had come to know each other—and it was all his fault.
Nick determined that he’d be more civil at dinner that evening. But when he saw the corsage James had fashioned to take to Emma, he felt such a surge of vexation that he could hardly control it.
“I arranged these rosebuds and forget-me-nots and fern fronds into a corsage for her,” James said, smiling at the pretty thing.
“Weren’t a head wreath and a daisy chain enough?” Nick asked.
“Can there ever be enough of beauty, Cousin?” James asked, in a chiding spirit.
The romance continued apace over dinner. The lovers exchanged soft glances over the turbot and smiles over the saddle of mutton. It was while the gentlemen were taking their port after dinner that Nick began to wonder just how serious James’s talk of reformation was.
“I shall be taking a spin into the village after port, if you’re interested, Lord James,” Derek said. “There’s a card game at the local inn.”
“Women?” James asked with a certain eagerness.
Derek Hunter looked askance at Hansard. “I daresay something might be arranged if you’re interested.”
“I’m interested,” James said, then turned to Nick. “I mustn’t let myself get too worked up, you know, Nick, or I might misbehave with Emma. It is only out of consideration for her that I inquired for a light-skirt. After we marry I shall be as faithful as Darby with his Joan. Will you come along with us?”
“I think not.”
James nodded. “Mrs. Pettigrew. Mama mentioned she had settled nearby. I wondered what you did for a woman. She’s very handsome.”
Nick poured himself another glass of port and said nothing. Not only did he want to spare Mrs. Pettigrew James’s attentions, but he didn’t want to have two ladies to guard against this fascinating young lecher.
After taking their port, the gentlemen joined the ladies in the saloon for three-quarters of an hour, at which time James and Hunter took their leave.
“Mr. Hunter has invited me to a game of cards in the village,” James explained.
“You are perfectly welcome to play here,” Emma offered.
James smiled fondly. “How could I concentrate on cards, when you are near?”
Rather than risk further rebuff in front of Nick, she allowed him to get away with this sophistry.
After they left Miss Foxworth opened her novel, and Emma turned a wary eye on Nick.
“I hope Derek isn’t leading Lord James into mischief,” she said. “Heaven knows what he gets up to at the Rose and Thistle.”
“They’re young,” Nick said forgivingly. “Young men need their diversions.”
“The stakes are deep there, you know,” she said, frowning. “If James is a gambler, I shan’t have him.”
“I shouldn’t rush into anything, if I were you. You spoke of going to London. Why don’t you go?”
Her lips drew into that pout that Nick found so enticing. She spoke in a low voice to avoid Miss Foxworth’s attention. “Derek hasn’t mentioned it since I refused his offer.”
“You don’t have to go with Hunter. Indeed, he is the last person you should go with.”
“I can’t very well go alone. With only Miss Foxworth, I mean. We are both green as grass. I’ve only stayed at a hotel three times in my whole life. Twice with John and once with Papa.”
Nick knew Emma wasn’t a sophisticated woman, but this speech made him realize what a protected life she had led. She had gone from her father’s provincial home to an even more secluded life at Whitehern. No wonder she had fallen for James. He really should introduce her to some decent partis. These, alas, were only to be met in London. She would indeed be easily taken advantage of in London without someone to guide her. He owed it to John, he told himself.
“It happens I’ll be going myself the day after tomorrow,” he said, inventing the trip on the spot.
She looked definitely interested. “As Lord James has come especially to become acquainted with me, it seems wrongheaded for me to leave at this time.”
Nick said the only thing he could say. “I’m sure James would be happy to come with us.” Hopefully he would find other Incomparables to entertain him once they were there.
A smile of pure enchantment beamed. “That would be lovely, Nick! You must tell me what hotel is respectable—but not too dear.”
It wasn’t an undue concern for thrift that caused the speech. Emma was wealthy, but she didn’t really have any notion of the value of money. John used to use the excuse of London being expensive to keep her at Whitehern.
“As Miss Foxworth will be with you, there’s no reason you shouldn’t stay with me on Berkeley Square,” he said. “Actually it happens my aunt Gertrude is there at the moment, doing some shopping, I’m told. We’ll be doubly chaperoned. That is—you and James will be well chaperoned.”
“I hardly think we require two female chaperons when you keep such a sharp eye on us,” she said, and gave him a questioning look. “It wasn�
��t by chance that you joined us this morning, I think?”
He gave a rueful smile. “I was a little concerned, when he inquired for a spot hidden from any stray passerby. I feel responsible, as I’m the one who brought him here.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, Nick. John used to watch out for me like that. But you needn’t worry about James. I can keep him in line. Do you think he means half the pretty things he says?”
“Yes, half of them.”
She drew a deep sigh. “It’s very difficult finding a good husband. I’m glad I have you to help me.”
“I’m glad I could be of assistance. The Season is over, but there will still be plenty of company in town. I’m sure we’ll find a few routs and parties where I can introduce you to some eligible gentlemen. You haven’t met anyone like James before. I think you’re merely bowled over by his—charm,” he said, hesitating over the word.
“Yes, he is charming, but I’m not sure he would wear well. How would he stand up during any difficulty? I remember how you and John took control so quickly when that horrid hoof-and-mouth disease struck the herd. I cannot see James being so capable. One must think of the bad times as well as the good. For better or for worse, as the marriage ceremony says. John was wonderful during the worse times, but he didn’t really know how to enjoy the better.”
As she had already linked John’s name with his own, Nick felt this speech, both the good and the bad, applied to him as well.
“Not that I mean to disparage John!” she added quickly. “I think it was probably his age, so much older than myself, that caused it. I expect that is half the attraction James has for me. He’s young. He doesn’t think of anything bad ever happening, probably because nothing bad ever has happened to him. He thinks of life as one long, sunny summer afternoon.”
Nick listened and noted that, though Emma was young and unworldly, she wasn’t foolish. Someone, probably that Aunt Hildegarde and the papa she denigrated, had pounded some wisdom into her.
He heard himself mouthing the boring cliché, “Into every life some rain must fall.”