by Lauren Smith
“Oh, sister!” Katherine clapped her hands together. “Does this mean that you’ve developed feelings for him?”
“My goodness, Katherine,” Emma said, taking a nibble off the end of her biscuit. “I hardly know the man. I don’t even know his name, though I do intend to find out. I want to know more about him, though, and I don’t want him dancing with someone else and taking my chance to know him better.”
“That sounds as if you have feelings for him to me,” Katherine replied. “Besides, Henry and Franny hardly knew one another when they decided to get married. Love at first sight.” She sighed airily. “If you marry this young man, then I’ll have my chance next Season. Perhaps all three of us will fall in love the same way.”
“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Emma shook her head. “In any case, I’m stuck here for the next few days so would you be so good as to do a favor for me and go get the book I ordered from the book shop? Today would be a good day to start reading it.”
“What about the book you borrowed from the library? It was so big, there’s no way you could have finished it already.” Katherine frowned and Emma shook her head.
“No, but I am able to read more than one book at a time. Goodness, if you don’t want to do it, just say so.” Emma set her cup down and took another bite of her biscuit. “Do you know if Mother had the cook set the water out last night for ice? My ankle is aching quite badly.”
“I set it out myself,” Katherine said, sounding more than a little put out. “If you like, I shall fetch you some ice before I go to the book shop.” Without waiting for her sister to say yes, she got up and left the room, closing the door a little harder than Emma thought was necessary.
Alone in her room now, Emma slowly ate her breakfast. She felt a bit guilty for being snappish with her sister just because her ankle hurt and she resolved to apologize to her as soon as she came back with the ice, and tell her that she would wait to get the book herself when she was better. The door opened again and Emma sat forward, ready to tell her little sister she was sorry. Instead, the upstairs maid came through the door with a compress in her hands.
“Where’s my sister?”
“Miss Katherine said she had an errand to run that was quite important and asked me to bring you this.” She handed it to Emma. “Do you need me to put it somewhere?”
“I can take care of it myself, thank you.” She set the ice pack aside and picked up her breakfast tray. “If you would take this, though, I would appreciate it.”
“Yes, Miss.” The maid took the tray from Emma and departed, leaving her mistress to pull back the covers and arrange the ice pack on her ankle. The cold felt good and she sighed happily. Her room was a bit chilly, so she put the pack on her night table and got up to find her morning gown.
She dressed and put on her morning cap, then hopped back over to bed and put her foot up on the pillow. She arranged the ice pack on her ankle before she leaned back to enjoy the last of her biscuit that she had laid on her night table and take a pamphlet from under her pillow. Emma was rarely far from a book, whether for study or pleasure, but this was something completely different. This was a political pamphlet, and she knew her parents would approve of it even less than her medical study.
Emma was a great fan of Mary Wollstonecraft, a liberal feminist, and it was this more than her hopes of becoming a doctor that caused people to call her a bluestocking. As handsome and kind as her dancing partner was, she doubted he would be the type to want a companion to study and have political views of her own.
A small knock on the door made Emma tuck the pamphlet between the pages of the thick anatomy book she had borrowed from the library and she looked up with a smile to see her sister Frances peek inside.
“Good morning! I was just checking to see that you were awake. I thought I heard Katherine in here so I assumed you were. How are you feeling?” She came into the room with Miles on her hip and Emma scooted aside so she could sit down.
“Surprisingly well. It’s still sore, but keeping my weight off it makes it feel better. I’ve just been sitting here reading and eating the breakfast Katherine brought me. She’s so sweet, she brought me a gingerbread biscuit.” This made Frances laugh and her baby laughed as well.
“That’s our Kitten.” In her arms, Miles stretched toward his aunt and Frances laughed. “Do you want to go see your Aunt Emma?”
“All right, then, give him here.” Emma opened her arms and Miles went to her eagerly. He was a warm, soft weight in her lap and she kissed his head. She wasn’t much of a fan of babies but she did love her nephew. “He’s such a good baby.”
“Isn’t he wonderful? I told Henry I hardly need a governess at all, though I’m sure his mother would disagree.” Frances smiled gently at her sister. “You’re so good with him. I don’t know why you insist that you’re not having children.”
“Because apart from Miles, they’re sticky little devils that break things, and I’d like to have nice things around my house.” Emma took Miles’ hands and danced him back and forth. “You’d never break my beautiful ornaments, would you?”
“It’s different when they’re your own. Besides, you could always have a governess to watch them and keep them out of the way. I just don’t want my son to spend all his time with his.” Frances reached out and stroked her son’s head.
“It makes sense. You were always the one who took care of us.” Laughing, Emma shook her head. “You’re the only one our dear little sister would allow her to call her Kitten.”
“I wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t insisted on being called Cat for those few months. After that I just couldn’t stop. It’s too cute, just like her.” Frances raised an eyebrow. “What if you met the perfect man, who loved you, supported your studying and ambition to be a doctor, and could see past your terrible personality.”
“Sister!”
“Well? Would you marry him?” Frances continued to stare at her sister and Emma sighed heavily, still focused on her nephew, who was patting her face.
“I would take it under consideration,” Emma replied stiffly, trying to ignore the grin on her sister’s face. When Frances began to giggle, her cheeks flushed deeply. “Oh, hush.”
Chapter 6
Two days after the ball, Thomas could no longer pretend he wasn’t thinking about the young woman he had to carry to her family after she hurt her ankle. He’d been concerned about her and wondered whether she’d broken the ankle or simply turned it. When he’d seen her at the dress shop she had already been injured, but she’d gone to the ball anyway and seemed to have a good time. He wanted to see her again but didn’t want to wait until the Everly Ball.
“Mother, I’m going out,” he called to his mother, who looked out of the hall that led to the bedrooms. “Ah, there you are.”
“Take care,” she said. “Would you be so good as to buy some flowers? The ones we have are beautiful but I want some red and white roses.”
“Of course. Would you prefer more red ones, or more white ones?” Thomas put on his coat and did up the buttons while Elizabeth considered it.
“White, please. I feel that they look a bit more like the holidays, don’t you?”
“I should say I do, yes. There may not be much variety at the florist with the Season upon us, though. What do you want if there are no roses?” He waited patiently, putting on his gloves, while his mother joined him at the door.
“Lilies, I suppose, or whatever you’re able to find.” She sighed. “The Season can be so troublesome sometimes. I’m not sure I’ll want to return next year at all. I may have grown too old to enjoy it.”
“As have I.”
“Don’t be silly, Thomas. You’re scarcely twenty-five.” Elizabeth patted his lapels. “Your mother knows best.”
“Thank you for helping me see the error of my ways, Mother.” Thomas kissed his mother on the cheek, then went out the door.
Though he usually put his mother’s desires first, especially since his fath
er had passed away, Thomas went to the book shop instead. He was hoping Emma would be there, since she seemed to be a bookish woman. The men he knew back in Kent would surely have laughed at him for wanting to be seen with a lady who might have a book under her arm, but Thomas liked the idea of a woman he could talk to about more than her friends or the latest fashions.
He walked down the street, excited at the thought of meeting Emma again. It had only been a couple of days, but he hoped she had recovered enough to come down the High Street. The air was cold but it hadn’t started snowing yet, and Thomas enjoyed the wind on his face. He’d always preferred the cold to heat, which was part of the reason he enjoyed living closer to the sea. London was nice every once in a while, but like his mother, he would be happy to return to Kent.
There were so many shops that were buzzing with energy and excitement as the newcomers and visitors to the town flitted through the shops, looking at anything and everything that caught their fancy. The book shop was busy as well and when he opened the door and didn’t see Emma’s shiny dark hair he nearly left. It was too crowded to wade through the crowd if he wasn’t going to be able to talk to her, but a moment later he saw the bright blonde hair of the girl he had come to know as Emma’s little sister. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if they’d been introduced before, and couldn’t.
“No time like the present,” he said to himself, as if trying to talk himself into it. He walked up to the girl and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to him, wide-eyed and he smiled. “Pardon me, Miss. Aren’t you Emma’s sister?”
“Oh, yes!” He could see in her eyes that the girl recognized him and he smiled. “You’re the nice young man from the Opening Ball who helped her!”
“Yes, that was me. I was hoping to see her here today.”
“She’s still in bed with her foot up. The doctor says she turned her ankle but our older sister Frances thinks it’s worse. She’s making Emma rest so she’ll be well in time for the Everly Ball.” The girl smiled as she chattered and Thomas couldn’t help smiling back at her. She might have been the most cheerful woman he’d ever met. “Are you going to the Everly Ball?”
“I am, and I’m looking forward to it,” Thomas replied. “Moreso now that I know Emma will likely be there. I had a good time dancing with her and would like to see her again.”
“How lovely! I’ll be sure and tell her when I get home. She’ll be so excited.” Something seemed to occur to Emma’s little sister and she gasped. “Oh my, how rude I’ve been! I never introduced myself properly to you. I’m Katherine Sellars.”
“Lord Thomas Belmont,” he said, smiling. The words had come out before he realized he was going to say them, and Katherine’s eyes widened further. It was the first time he’d remembered to use his title – much to his mother’s consternation – and he couldn’t help wishing he hadn’t. “Pleased to meet you, Miss.”
“A lord! I shall make sure I address you properly from now on.” This made Thomas laugh and he shook his head.
“Please don’t. I wish for the two of us to be friends, not formal acquaintances. Besides, I came by the title recently. What brings you here today? Are you an avid reader like your sister?” Thomas wanted every bit of information about Emma as possible so that when they met again they could talk more while they danced, provided her ankle was healed.
“No, no, I came to pick up a book Emma ordered. She’s the one who enjoys reading. I like tales of romance well enough sometimes, but Emma likes things that are much more difficult to read.” She held up a wrapped book that looked thick enough to be a brick. “See?”
“That does look like a book that would take some commitment. I shall let you go on your way with it, then. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sellars, and will you give Emma my regards?” He smiled at her and she returned it with a grin.
“Of course! And you may call me Katherine, as well. My parents will want to be called Mister and Mistress Sellars, but my sisters and I are much more informal.” She hugged the book to her chest. “It was nice to meet you, Lord Belmont. I’ll make sure Emma knows you want to see her at the ball!” Katherine hurried away and Thomas laughed as he left the bookstore. It wasn’t what he’d hoped for, but he was at least glad Emma would know that he was looking forward to seeing her again.
As he’d expected, the florist’s selection was limited. Thomas was able to get his mother an armful of mixed roses and lilies, and had them wrapped to carry home. He was so pleased that he’d met Katherine, who would no doubt relay the entire conversation to her sister, that he was nearly whistling. He used to do so but he didn’t want to be like his father in any way at all, not anymore.
When he got home, his mother was sitting on the couch sewing. She was quite the embroiderer and over the years she’d become so good that she could have been an exceptional needleworker, were the profession not below her station. Elizabeth looked up when she saw him, beaming the way she always did when he or his father came home.
“Welcome home,” she said, getting up to take the flowers from him. “How lovely. Thank you so much.” She took a deep breath. “Such a lovely scent. I’ll have Mary put them in a vase.”
“I’m glad you like them.” Thomas took off his coat and put it on the rack. “I decided to take a walk by the book shop to see if Emma was there. She enjoys reading quite a bit so it seemed like a place she might be. I wanted to ask if she was feeling better.”
“Was she there?”
“No, but I did meet her sister. She’s a lovely young girl and told me that Emma is at home with an injured ankle but they expect her to be well enough to attend the Everly Ball.” He sat in one of the wing chairs while his mother gave the flowers to the maid, who had appeared the moment she’d heard her name. “She introduced herself as Katherine Sellars.”
“I hope you introduced yourself properly as Lord Belmont,” Elizabeth said, sitting back down with her embroidery. “You’ve been leaving your title out since you were a young man, and now that you’ve inherited your father’s title you really must be more strict about it.”
“Yes, yes, I’ve heard all about it,” Thomas said, rolling his eyes. “Thomas, Earl of Marebel. It doesn’t make me any better than anyone else, Mother.”
“And I’ve heard all about this,” sighed Elizabeth. “I’m hoping that this Emma you’re interested in will encourage you to marry. When you have to care for a family, you’ll need to stop giving away all your money to charity.”
“Father gave money to charity as well.” He hated to bring his father into things but it was inevitable. “Perhaps I’ll set up a foundation with my inheritance. That would do the most good.”
“I don’t know why I bother to complain, it’s all my fault to begin with. I never should have let you play with that kitchen boy.”
“Mother, I’m not going to let women and children go hungry when I have the means to help them. George has nothing to do with it.” He stood up. “I was out late last night with my friends from Surrey. I’m meeting them again tonight so I’d like to have a bit of a lie down.”
“That seems wise.” From the clipped tone of her voice, Thomas could tell that his mother was more than a little annoyed with him. “Have a good rest.” He thought about saying something else but decided the best course of action was to keep his mouth shut before they got into a real argument. There weren’t many things that Elizabeth was prepared to tell him off about, but marriage and money were two of them. Thomas went to his room, took off his jacket and boots, and sat on the bed.
In truth, George had everything to do with it. While he’d been raised by a governess for the most part, she had loved to gossip and the cook was her favorite source of whispers over tea. It was as if it made them feel like true ladies instead of servants, and while neither held Thomas’ interest, it was how he met George, the kitchen boy.
They grew up together, from the time he and George were playing on the floor with his metal soldiers to the days he would come home and teach George
to read more than just basic words, and beyond. At the same time, the younger boy was learning to cook from his mother and eventually took her place in the Belmont house. It meant that the two could still see one another, but the societal rift between the two had never been more prominent.
In contrast to Thomas’ bachelor life, George had a son who was always ill as a result of a lung condition. His wife had died less than a year previous in childbirth, leaving him with a baby daughter and no one to watch her. Thomas had secretly been giving him money for someone to take care of his children, and thankfully, George wasn’t too proud to take it. In spite of their differences, Thomas thought of the man as his brother and hoped that George did the same.
Laying down on the bed, Thomas closed his eyes. It was true that he needed his rest. He’d been out until nearly sunrise, and planned to do so again. He was grateful to the Season for more than one thing, particularly the fact that it gave him an excuse to be out until all hours. At home he wouldn’t be out too late but London parties went on until 5:00 AM or longer. He would have loved to be dancing with Emma or chatting with her privately in a park, but her circumstances made it impossible.
I hope she’s well enough to dance, he said, thinking of her ankle and the Everly Ball. His last thought before he fell asleep was of her face, and how he didn’t want to disappoint her.
It was already dark when he woke up so he lit the lamp on his bedside table and got up with a yawn. He put on his evening clothes and boots, adding a black shirt to his ensemble as he had when he went out at night, then picked up his hat and good coat and blew out the lamp. His mother was still sitting on the couch when he came out and he smiled at her.
“I’ll be going out now, Mother.”