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A New Beginning: The Spinsters Guild

Page 8

by Pearson, Rose


  And yet there was something that drew her to him, no matter how hard she fought it.

  What am I to do?

  Putting the note aside, Emily let the face of Lord Havisham linger in her mind a little longer. There had once been that intimacy between them that she knew could easily be rekindled, but that would mean a true forgetting of their past and a willingness to trust him once again. She could not easily do that, she knew, not when her trust in him had already been shattered. But could it be something that she could, at the very least, allow herself to consider?

  Emily bit her lip, passing a hand over her eyes as she blinked her tears away. She would not cry over Lord Havisham again, not when she had done so before and for far too long. She had to look at this matter with sober judgment, had to allow herself to consider everything with clear rationality. The only problem with such a consideration was that her heart did not allow herself to think clearly, for it swarmed with such feelings that she could barely make sense of them. To be free to live as she pleased and to do as she wished was what she had always dreamt of, was it not? And it was a life that she had only just begun to enjoy, for finally, the gossip about her late husband and her part in it had begun to fade.

  Lord Havisham will not seek to remove that freedom from you, Emily.

  The quiet voice in her head made Emily hesitate, closing her eyes tightly at the swarm of thoughts that ran through her. She knew that Lord Havisham was not the sort of gentleman who would demand anything of her. He would respect her, consider her and care for her, if she would allow him. Had he not spoken of his affection for her? The feelings within his heart that had not faded away but, in her absence, only grown stronger. Emily knew that she could not compare Lord Havisham with either her late husband or her father. He had made a mistake, he had said, in allowing her to marry Lord Smithton instead of securing her for his wife but had realized it much too late. That had caused him no end of regret but she had been the one who had needed to marry Lord Smithton regardless.

  But if you had not married Lord Smithton, then you would not have found this strength of character that now fills you with both courage and determination.

  Having been forced to marry Lord Smithton was not something Emily would ever be grateful for but she could not pretend that finding her confidence and strength had not been of some blessing. If she could see goodness in her past circumstances, then could she not set aside all the frustration and the pain that sometimes still stung at her when she thought of Lord Havisham, so that she might consider her future?

  A long sigh left her lips, her head feeling heavy and weighted with all that she felt. “And I shall not think of him now,” she told herself, folding up the note and placing it with the others. “For there is much now to prepare.”

  * * *

  Deciding to host a dinner party had either been a very wise or a very foolish idea. Emily could not yet decide which it was for, as she looked around the table, she saw some eyes looking back at her with interest, whilst others seemed more delighted in the company that was present. It was, Emily considered, as she finished her dessert, rather unfortunate that even still, there were those amongst the beau monde who wished for nothing more than to feed on gossip and rumor. To have been invited to attend Lady Smithton’s dinner would be a notable event indeed and she was quite certain that one or two of her guests would waste no time in telling all of their acquaintances about it. Thankfully, those whispers had died down a good deal over the last few days, since there were more than enough scandals for the beau monde to feed on. She was, it seemed, now a good deal less interesting than she had been before.

  Smiling to herself, Emily allowed her gaze to run across the table. Miss Bavidge and Miss Crosby were present, with both sitting quietly in their seats, their spoons down on the table having already finished their dessert. A flicker of a frown crossed Emily’s expression, seeing them sitting without any attempt at conversation. She had made sure to invite a good few gentlemen that she knew to be of good reputation, although some were inclined to be something of a rogue at times, but she had thought that to be of benefit to her two friends. They would have to learn how to manage a gentleman’s less than proper behavior, particularly if one attempted to flirt outrageously. However, such a thing was not about to occur given that neither of them seemed to be making any attempt to engage with those about them.

  Frustrated that she had not kept a closer eye on them both during the previous courses, Emily set her spoon down and tried to think of what she could say that would force either Miss Bavidge or Miss Crosby to speak. At least they both looked well enough, although she would have to make the suggestion that Miss Crosby do something with the ringlets that always seemed to be hanging down on either side of her face. They gave her a heaviness that did not suit her.

  “Might we leave the gentlemen to their port?” she murmured, seeing that her guests were finished. “Ladies, there will be tea set out for us in the drawing room.” She rose gracefully and gave the gentlemen a lingering smile. “Do take as long as you wish.”

  Grateful for the opportunity to grasp Miss Bavidge’s arm and catch Miss Crosby’s eye, Emily waited until the three of them were ensconced together in a quiet part of the drawing room. Tea had already been served and the ladies were talking quietly amongst themselves, with some eagerly awaiting the reappearance of the gentlemen.

  “You have been very quiet this evening, Miss Bavidge,” Emily began, looking towards Miss Crosby. “As have you, Miss Crosby. What is it that keeps you so silent?”

  Miss Bavidge blushed furiously, her eyes lowering to her lap. “I fear that I have become rather afraid of speaking aloud, for fear that someone will make some comment about my father,” she replied, honestly.

  “And I am not particularly interesting,” Miss Crosby replied, with such calm certainty that Emily found herself rather taken aback. “I might fade into the shadows and no-one would recall that I have ever been present.”

  Emily did not know what to say to this, hearing no hint of sadness in Miss Crosby’s tone but rather a sense of acceptance, as though she truly believed this to be the case.

  “I do not think that can be true,” she managed to say, her mind whirling. “I know that at least one gentleman cast his eyes over you this evening.”

  This seemed to dumbfound Miss Crosby, for her eyes widened and she stared blankly back at Emily as though she could not quite believe it.

  “And Viscount Morton asked you one or two questions, did he not?” Emily asked, turning her attention back to Miss Bavidge, who now looked up with a small look of hope in her eyes. “Did you not respond to him?”

  “I did,” Miss Bavidge replied, quickly, “but it was about nothing in particular. Although,” she continued, her cheeks still a little red, “I should be grateful that he did not ask about my father.”

  Emily smiled and nodded. “Indeed,” she replied, wondering if she was being encouraging in any way at all, or if she was failing miserably. “You must be a little more assertive. That is the only way you will be noticed.”

  The two young ladies exchanged glances but both nodded their assent. Emily smiled and made to say more, only for the door to open and the gentlemen to walk through.

  Gentlemen who included Lord Havisham, Emily noted with astonishment. She had not invited him for dinner, so what could he be doing here at this moment?

  Lord Havisham must have seen her astonishment, for he came over to her at once and inclined his head.

  “I am sorry to have intruded so,” he said, quickly, bowing in front of her. “It is only that I have heard some news that I thought important to share with you, Lady Smithton.” His eyes roved towards Miss Bavidge and Miss Crosby, who both attempted to look as though they were not at all interested in what he had to say.

  Emily tipped her head up to look into Lord Havisham’s eyes, aware of how quickly her heart had trembled with delight upon seeing him. “What news is this, Lord Havisham?” she asked, rising quickly and finding
herself a little anxious given the serious look in his eyes. “Has something occurred?”

  Lord Havisham hesitated, then turned around so that his back was to Miss Bavidge and Miss Crosby.

  “It is only that I have heard your father has returned to town, Lady Smithton,” he said, making Emily’s breath hitch with shock. “Your mother is with him also.”

  Emily swayed suddenly, not quite certain what to make of this. “My father,” she repeated, trying to force herself to believe it. “I have not seen him since the day I wed.” Not that he had not attempted to force himself back into her life after the death of her husband, telling her that she needed to return to his household and, of course, do his bidding as she had done before.

  “I do not know why he is in town,” Lord Havisham said, looking at her as though he feared she might faint with the shock of it. “But I thought it best you know at once.”

  Swallowing hard, Emily took in a long breath and tried to smile. “The rumors about my husband’s death came from my father, I am quite certain of it.”

  Lord Havisham frowned. “But why should he do such a thing?”

  She let out a wry laugh, her face contorted with pain. “You know how much he liked to find fault with me, do you not? When I would not go back to his house, when I would not do as he asked, then the rumors began. I fear he has come to London to try and persuade me to return to his household. No doubt so that he can force me to wed another gentleman in order to make some profit for himself.” She shook her head and closed her eyes momentarily, feeling herself swaying slightly. “I shall not do as he asks.”

  “No, you shall not,” Lord Havisham replied, fervently. “I have seen your strength and determination, Lady Smithton. You need not fear him and, should you require it, I shall be by your side ready to stand against your father’s demands.”

  She smiled at him, the shock draining from her. “That is very much appreciated, Lord Havisham,” she replied, quietly, touched by not only his offer of support but his concern for her. He had come to speak to her directly upon discovering that her father had returned to London, so that she would not be caught unawares. That spoke of a genuine consideration for her, which warmed her heart and brought a smile to her lips.

  “You know that I would not allow you to be without friends, Lady Smithton,” he murmured, taking a step away from her and inclining his head. “Thank you for allowing me to speak to you. I shall depart now.”

  “Wait.”

  The word was out of her mouth before she could prevent. Lord Havisham turned slowly, his expression hopeful.

  “You are more than welcome to stay for a short time, Lord Havisham,” Emily stammered, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “If you wish to, that is.”

  It was as though she had offered him something wonderful, for his eyes lit up and a broad smile tugged his lips wide. “I should be delighted to stay, Lady Smithton,” he replied, with a quick bow. “I thank you.”

  “You are very welcome,” she replied, with as much dignity as she could manage. “And thank you for your consideration, Lord Havisham. I am grateful for the urgency with which you have informed me of my father’s return to London.”

  His smile softened, his eyes growing tender. “You are always in my thoughts, Lady Smithton,” he replied, in such a low voice that she had to strain to hear him. “I am glad to have been able to aid you in this.”

  Emily could find nothing to say, her throat constricting as she held his gaze. It was only when he turned away that she realized she had been holding her breath, one hand pressed against her stomach as she felt her heart tug towards him with a renewed determination.

  It seemed she was going to be able to forgive him after all.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You have a visitor, Lady Smithton.”

  Emily drew in a long breath as she took the card from the butler. It bore her father’s name and, as such, gave her such a feeling of tension that she had to grasp the back of the chair with a tight hand.

  “Is my mother with him?” she asked, as the butler waited patiently in front of her. “Or does he come alone?”

  The butler responded at once. “Alone, my lady. Do you wish to see him or should I ask him to call another time?”

  Emily hesitated. Her immediate response was to ask the butler to send her father from the house, for she certainly did not want to see him. However, that would mean she was giving into her fear and her fright, reducing herself to the quiet little mouse she had once been. No, if she was to deal with her father, then she would have to show him that she was both independent and unafraid. He would not have the same hold on her as he had done before.

  “No, I shall see him,” she said, suddenly, before she had time to change her mind. “Do send for tea and refreshments also.”

  The butler nodded and withdrew, giving Emily some time to think about what she would say once she had seen her father. Most likely, he would demand that she do as he ask, now that she was widowed, but Emily had no intention of returning to his household. Her father had sold her once and she was not about to give him the opportunity to do so again.

  The door opened and Emily turned to face it, drawing herself up to her full height and clasping her hands loosely in front of her. Her father stormed in, his face dark and his eyes malevolent.

  “Emily,” he grated, without waiting for her to speak. “How dare you behave in such a fashion?”

  Emily held her breath, looking at her father and being reminded of just how often he had attempted to shame her with his angry exclamations. Letting it out slowly, she looked at him with as much calmness in her expression as she could muster. “Good afternoon, father,” she began, gesturing for him to sit down. “What an unexpected visit this is. Might I inquire as to your health?”

  Lord Chesterton glared at her, his eyes narrowing. “You are being impertinent, Emily. I ask you again, how dare you behave in such a fashion as this? Going about London as though you have no consideration for the gossip and rumor that is being pushed through the streets about you!”

  Emily, thinking that since her father would not sit down, she may as well do so, took a seat carefully and tried to consider what she should say in response. The knowledge that she had no requirement to do as her father asked brought her a great sense of relief, allowing her to breathe at a fairly normal rate. She let the silence grow between them, looking at her father and seeing his face begin to darken. She would not allow herself to be afraid of him again, not when she had nothing to fear. He could not come near her. He could not demand that she obey him. There was nothing between them now.

  “It is rather tiresome, I will admit,” she said, softly, looking up into his face and finding her hands tighten in her lap at the sight of the rage in his expression. “The rumors are nothing more than that, however, and I will not permit them to keep me back from society.”

  “Not even if they are true?”

  His words bounced off the walls, making Emily lift an eyebrow. “But they are not true, father, as I am certain you must believe,” she replied, a twist to her gut reminding her that, most likely, the whispers about her behavior had come from him in an attempt to have her return to his household with the shame and sorrow of it all. “I am, therefore, ignoring them entirely.”

  “That will not do!” her father exclaimed, beginning to pace back and forth in front of her. “You are behaving irrationally, Emily. You ought to be keeping to the shadows and not pushing yourself forward in amongst society. In fact,” he continued, his voice still overly loud as he turned to look at her. “You should return home, as I have suggested.”

  Emily’s hands tightened together at once, her lips thinning as she watched him pace. She had known that this was his intention and yet the pain of his disregard for her bit at her all over again.

  “Whom is it you have promised me to this time, father?” she asked, sharply, arching one eyebrow as he stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “You need not pretend that you have not done so,
for I am well aware that the only reason you are urging me home is to set me up as wife for someone else.” This had never been confirmed by either Emily’s mother or father but she did not need to hear the words from their mouth to know that this was the truth. The arrested look on her father’s face proclaimed that she had been quite correct in believing this to be his goal. A long sigh escaped her lips as she shook her head in his direction, her sadness weighing down her soul for some moments. Why did he care nothing for her? Why was his only consideration the wealth that he could gain from her marriage to a gentleman of his choosing?

  “You are a repugnant little brat!”

  Emily flinched and drew back sharply as Lord Chesterton suddenly threw himself forward, one hand raised to slap her. She closed her eyes, cringing, her hands tight on the chair arms as she waited, only for another, authoritative voice to ring across the room.

  “I do not think that is wise, Chesterton.”

  Her eyes flaring with surprise whilst her heart flooded with relief, Emily looked behind her father’s frozen stance to see none other than Lord Havisham walk into the room. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them, his brows low and his hands planted firmly on his hips.

  “H- Havisham, is it not?” Lord Chesterton said, making no move to step away from Emily. “This is none of your business, sir.” He turned back to Emily, his face a deep shade of red, only for Lord Havisham to stride forward and grasp Lord Chesterton’s arm, thrusting it hard behind his back. Lord Chesterton let out a howl of pain and staggered away, leaving Emily free to rise from her chair now that her father was no longer standing directly in front of her.

 

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