Glimmers (18 page)

Our guests are rejoicing in the festivities of the evening. They dance gaily about the room. As Victoria and I descend the staircase, music from stringed instruments glides up to my ears. Although I am anxious to join in the revelry, I try to slow down my pace and watch my shoes ease down one step at a time.

Once in view of the gathering, I smile. In the middle of the floor, some of the group has assembled into rows, facing in the direction of their dance partners. When the music begins to play, the couples wind and weave around in perfect unison. The ladies wear flowing gowns bedecked with lace and ruffles: blues, pinks, pale yellows, lavenders . . . and the men look stately in their formal attire. Most of our guests are long time familiar faces, and it makes me glad to see them having such a delightful time.

The party is held in a long and rectangular shaped room. A grand chandelier, filled with candles, illuminates the area below. Oil paintings, adorned with large golden frames, are hung on the lovely blue walls. In between the portraits are sconces where shielded candles also help dispel the dark.

My eyes dart over to the image of me, where I am wearing my very first Emma Middleton gown. I adore that ivory colored gown. I spent days sewing pearls into the top layer of sheer material, tedious really, but my efforts were well worth the trouble. Since Mama had not seen any of my designs, up to that point, she implored me to wear something sensible and restrained, preferably a dress she had purchased for me in London. Unbeknownst to her, I substituted her dress with one of my own. Thank goodness, both the artist and Mama were pleased with the outcome. I, however, cannot help being a little embarrassed by the portrait. The artist certainly did justice to the dress, but he also portrayed me to be far more poised and elegant than I feel.

Victoria, on the other hand, does not mind having our guests gaze adoringly up at her portrait. I suspect she would have more likenesses of herself in the house if our parents would permit. Personally, I prefer artwork that captures an interesting moment in time and has a fairytale-like setting along with mythical creatures. I should very much enjoy crawling inside my favorite painting and explore the fantastical world the artist has created.

“It is a festive event, indeed. Do you not agree, Emma?” Victoria whispers in hushed excitement.

“It is,” I return her sentiment, taking in the opulence of the room.

“The only question remaining is with whom I shall dance, first.”

I am entranced by the flow of people, watching them twirl across the floor . . . when someone sneaks up and startles me by giving my hair a gentle tug. After almost leaping into the air, I turn and see my older brother Edmund. He laughs heartily, obviously pleased with the results of his teasing. Victoria playfully swats at him, warning he had better never do that again.

“When did you arrive? We didn’t expect you to return for yet another fortnight!” I declare, eagerly hugging him.

“My dearest sisters, how could I possibly stay away from a party with such an abundance of delight and amusement? Surely, you know me better than that,” he says with a smile that warms my heart. “Although my time in London was necessarily spent attending many such frivolous functions, it was called short due to a business matter.”

“Edmund, I wonder to hear of your change of heart, since I believe that, heretofore, your inclination toward business has been somewhat lacking. What is this manner of business of which you speak?” I ask.

“I must admit to being astounded by your lack of faith in my diligence in this regard,” says Edmund, and we continue staring at each other for a few seconds. At last he reveals, “During my recent visit with our sister Mary, I made the acquaintance of a man from America. He resides in Charleston, South Carolina, where he possesses extensive fields of cotton. He has come to England to form a trade alliance with someone to whom he can sell his crops.” Edmund pauses, looking quite pleased. “I have brought this man here to meet Father, who will easily recognize the potential for financial gain as being quite significant. The two of them can hammer out the remaining part of the transaction on their own.
I
am simply-a match maker.”

“Victoria, have you seen our brother, as of late? For this man standing before us is not he,” I say in a playful manner.

I had not expected to see Edmund immerse himself in the work force with such uncontained enthusiasm, for his inclination runs much more to his leisure activities. He has not been known for his commitment to long hours of tedious contract negotiations. Although I frequently tease him in regard to his reputation as a carefree bachelor, I am proud of this recent change of direction.

“Where is this newly found acquaintance of yours?” questions Victoria.

“He is ensconcing himself in the guest quarters,” replies Edmund.

Victoria stares speculatively at the dancing couples, appearing anxious to join them. “Edmund, it is grand to have you with us. Before evening's end, you must introduce me to your new acquaintance. For now, I shall not make our guests wait any longer,” she says then whispers in my ear, “By the way; I simply adore your new gown. Perhaps you could make a similar one for me. Although, I would much prefer it in pink.” She winks at me before flitting off into the crowd.

“I tend to worry about Victoria and her mastery in the art of flirting,” I say. “She enjoys it far more than she ought. I pity any man who attempts to call upon her, for she usually tires of them quickly.”

“Agreed, I wonder what we will ever do with her,” says Edmund, and we quietly laugh together.

“It is so good to have you home. How long shall we expect you to be with us?”

“I am not entirely certain. I suppose that depends on how long I am needed here.”

“I do hope you will be needed indefinitely. I miss you when you are away,” I admit.

“You know I cannot endure living in the confines of a small town for very long. The city fascinates me so. What do you say if on my return, you accompany me back to London? Mary has been asking for you.”

“The idea of going to London is an exciting prospect!” I say before remembering the impending engagement I am about to face. “I suppose we will just have to see how events of the evening unravel.”

“To what do you refer?”

“I suspect Mr. Grant is at this moment asking father for my hand,” I reply and watch as Edmund’s amused expression immediately fades.

“My younger sister, engaged. Now that is unsettling. I thought for certain you would have more time.”

“You appear concerned. Do you not approve of Mr. Grant’s character?”

“No, no, he is a fine gentleman. Emma, I must be honest. This troubles me. You should wait before entering marriage. There is so much of the world for you to see. Once you are betrothed, your sovereignty is over.”

“Edmund, in case you have forgotten, I am on the verge of becoming a spinster. How can I burden our parents? Mr. Grant is an admirable candidate for a husband. Besides, you know our mother has been planning this wedding since I was a child.”

“Our mother would understand if you decide not to marry him. Do you have even the slightest inclination of love for Percy?” inquires Edmund.

“I do not dare ponder about such frivolous indulgences. Besides, I think even the notion of love is overrated. In time, I am quite certain Mr. Grant will be a good companion for me.”

“Companion you say. Honestly Emma, you should seriously consider whether or not he has the same ambitions as you. I believe he is incapable of holding interests in anything unless his mother tells him he ought.”

“What an unkind thing to say! For your information, Mr. Grant and I have much in common!”

“And what might that be?”

“Well, we both enjoy the country and parties,” I say rather smugly. “Besides, he has many good qualities. For one, he is very punctual and for another, he is . . . sensible.”

“I see; punctuality and sensibility are the most important qualities you seek in the man with whom you wish to spend the rest of your life. Is that the best you can muster? If that is the case, then I fear no woman will ever think I am a suitable husband.” Edmund stretches his arms wide and fakes a loud yawn. “I think I am going to die from boredom, Emma. You have much too free a spirit to settle down with the likes of Percy Grant.”

“Edmund, I have put off my marriage to Mr. Grant for long enough. Mother and Father will not be very pleased if I ruin their plans for me.”

“Why must you marry at all? I do not understand the traditional mindset of having to marry at a certain age. In fact, you are still a child. You ought to travel and develop your own interests, not those defined for you by a husband, and that is exactly how it would be. I shudder at the thought of your likes and dislikes being formed for you by Percy,
or
his mother,” says Edmund, muffling a chuckle.

“All of that is easy for you to say. You are a man, and as such, have an entirely different perspective of the world. You have freedom to do as you please.”

“You could do the same,” he retorts.

“Yes, in theory I could, but in reality the chances of my traveling is slight. In only a few short years, I would be seen as a ‘poor old maid.’ People would whisper cruel words behind my back. Besides, how would I afford to go on adventures? What little I have would dwindle away quickly, I fear."

“Fair enough, however, it would be nice if you found a husband with whom you could travel. You cannot allow your life to go by without going to Paris.”

“Paris.” I consider dreamily. “I am certain Mr. Percy would be more than willing to escort me to Paris, once we have married.”

Edmund exhales loudly and says, “You act as though you are certain, but are you really? I sincerely doubt Percy Grant would be willing to leave his precious manor of Webshire.”

“Edmund, I appreciate your concerns, but they really are not necessary. I am a grown woman and am perfectly able to make appropriate decisions in regard to my life.”

“If marriage to this man is what you desire, then I am happy for you. For now, we shall dance in celebration of your impending doom, I mean betrothal,” announces Edmund, flashing his mischievous smile.

“You are a loathsome creature! In spite of my disgust at your lack of tact, I shall dance with you in celebration of my upcoming wedding.”

As children, Edmund and I were inseparable, and there have been many occasions when I have enjoyed having him as a dance partner. Upon his arrival this evening, I have found a familiar happiness sweep through me that I have not experienced for quite some time. That is until I am approached by Mr. Grant and my father.

My father’s face brims with joy and he says in good cheer, “Good to have you home, Edmund! What brings you to the country?”

“Actually Father, I have a business proposition for you,” says Edmund, and I cannot help but marvel at my brother’s newly acquired confidence. Papa appears equally impressed.

“I am quite curious as to your newly found interest. It would appear we have much to discuss. Let us retire to my study,” says Papa. “Please excuse us.”

Before leaving, Edmund says, “Emma, I am afraid our dance will have to wait. I will make it up to you.”

“I understand,” I say and lean closer to whisper, “Good luck with Papa.”

I am left standing alone with Mr. Grant, an awkward silence holds thick.

“How do you do this evening?” I inquire, graciously attempting to dislodge the uncomfortable tension.

“Very well, indeed,” offers Mr. Grant before glancing back over his shoulder. Behind him stand his mother and my Mama. Both are watching us with an expression of keen interest.

“Mr. Grant, have you ever been to Paris?”

“I am not made for adventures over the high seas. I have a queasy stomach that would make the journey unbearable,” he says and coughs into his hand. “Besides, it is more sensible to simply remain here in England. After all, there is much to see and do right here.”

“Paris is merely a short jaunt over the waterway. High sea, indeed,” I say, immediately regretting my lack of tact. Mr. Grant does not respond. He is still looking over at his mother.