The Counterfeit Betrothal (3 page)

“Yes, well, I agree. I am not altogether pleased that they are here,” Gilbert countered. “Caroline and Adeline are attractive young women, married or not, and I am afraid that by contrast Emmaline seems something of a drab wren today. Not that I think so,” he added hastily. “You know that I have the greatest regard for the child and think her worth ten of any other young lady I know. But I am afraid my son has been so jaded by the birds of paradise he sees in London that he will fail to value her as I do.”

“I have never thought Jeremy a fool,” Osbert replied equably. He paused, then added with less certainty, “But is he shrewd enough to understand that Adeline and Caroline have the luxury of indulging their fancies for new hairdos and clothes and frivolous things, I wonder. The sorts of things I should like for Emmaline. Or if he’ll realize that with a little pampering she could well outshine her sisters. Certainly if one is considering kindness and consideration and intelligence, she already does. Will your young son think so?”

Gilbert looked down at the chessboard, chin in hand. “Perhaps. But whether he does or not I have made it clear to the boy that I have the means to compel him to marry. And that I should favor a match with your daughter.”

Reluctantly Osbert nodded. “Aye, and I’ll admit I’ve always had an affection for Jeremy myself. But what you tell me about his latest adventures fills me with misgivings. Still, it may answer. I cannot imagine any man resisting Emmaline’s good nature.”

Gilbert patted his friend’s hand, then moved his queen. “Jeremy will not, I’ll see to that. If need be, I’ll send the boy away and look after Emmaline myself,” he concluded grimly.

Sir Osbert looked distressed. “You know,” he said, “I cannot bring myself to think Jeremy is really all that bad. He’s just fallen in with the wrong company and Emmaline may be just what he needs to bring him round again.”

“I think it more likely that he’s gone looking for the wrong company,” Gilbert countered. “But I hope you may be right.”

Osbert moved a bishop. “Mind you, though,” he said warningly, “I’ll see them both together before I give my final approval to the match. Ah, but it would be good to see my Emmaline settled before I die. I worry about her, you know. A woman alone is not an enviable creature. Check.”

“What? Where?” Gilbert demanded, turning all his attention to chess. Moving his king at last, he said “You haven’t beaten me yet, old friend.”

3

NEAR the bottom of the stairs, Jeremy paused as he heard voices coming from a room to his right. A moment’s reflection was all that was needed to remind him that the persons speaking must be in the old-fashioned parlor he had always loved. He found himself wondering if there had been many changes made to the room since he last had seen it. Then his attention was caught by the words he overheard and cold rage washed over him.

Emmaline and her sisters had come into the parlor while the Barnetts were upstairs and Adeline and Caroline were now all aflutter. “
Such
a dreadful reputation,” Adeline said tremulously.

“Yes, but as handsome as ever.” Caroline sighed. “Mind you, I love my Frederick dearly but I confess I have always felt a fondness for Jeremy. Do you remember when he danced at our
come out
balls here at the house?”

“You were too young for that, Emmaline, but he was the most excellent of dancers,” Adeline agreed with a condescending smile. “If not the most polite. He had a way of poking fun at one that was horrid.”

“I have always found him kind enough,” Emmaline replied tranquilly.

“Oh, pooh!” Caroline scoffed. “You were always at his heels and he was always chasing you away. Always chasing all of us away, for that matter. Sometimes I used to think that the only ones of us he liked were Mama and Papa.”

Remembering how a strong arm had steadied her in the rain that fell the day they buried her mother and the curtness with which he had then bid her farewell, Emmaline could not entirely disagree. Nevertheless she said, “Yes, but there were times when he did not chase us away. Once he even took me fishing. He would have taken you as well had you wished to go. And when my favorite doll was broken, he contrived to mend her.”

“More than likely he was the one who broke it,” Adeline countered, conveniently forgetting that it had actually been she who had done it in a fit of sisterly jealousy.

“I wonder why he came to call upon Papa,” Caroline said eagerly. “Do you suppose he has come down from London in disgrace?”

Adeline sniffed. “I haven’t a doubt of it. And why he should be bothering Papa I cannot imagine.”

This, however, was too much for Emmaline. “Papa wished to see him,” she said firmly. “Indeed, I shouldn’t be surprised if Papa invited him to come and call.”

“Oh, Emmaline, you have always made excuses for the fellow,” Adeline said impatiently.

“Yes,” Caroline echoed. “Next we shall be expecting to hear the news of your betrothal to Jeremy Barnett!” she added with a malicious titter.

This notion seemed so exquisitely absurd that it sent the two sisters into gales of laughter. At this moment Jeremy entered the parlor and said in his mincing voice, “My, my, the two of you grow more shrill with each passing year. Is that why you take refuge here instead of with your husbands?” Shooting dagger glances at young Barnett, the two sisters rose. In a frosty voice Adeline said, “My dear Emmaline, we must be going. Hubert is expecting me, and Frederick is expecting Caroline back in time for lunch. We shall call upon you next week as always. Mr. Barnett, good day. How unfortunate that I cannot say it has been a pleasure.”

With great irony Jeremy bowed deeply and stepped aside to let the ladies pass. When Emmaline had seen them out to their carriage she returned to the parlor where Jeremy was still waiting for her. In a mild voice she said, “Must you offend them always? After all we are no longer children to forever be at daggers drawn.”

Jeremy had been playing with the cord of a well-remembered curtain and now he let it fall as he faced Emmaline. “It has been some time since I was a child,” he said curtly. He knew, however, as well as she how badly he had behaved and already he was regretting it. The mincing voice was gone as he added, “Forgive me. My wretched tongue. But I have never been able to abide fools.”

“It was not so difficult for you to be civil to them before you went upstairs,” Emmaline observed shrewdly.

Jeremy hesitated. “Before I went upstairs I did not yet wish to speak with you alone, and now I do. Besides, the things I heard your sisters say were, well, the outside of enough.”

Emmaline moved closer to Barnett. “I was afraid you had,” she said. “You ought not to have eavesdropped, of course, but I can offer no excuses for my sisters either. What I do not understand is why you wished to speak with me alone. Is it about my father?”

He shook his head and she persisted, “Are you in trouble, then? Is there any way I can help?”

Jeremy smiled down at her sardonically and with one hand gently touched her cheek. “My dear Emmaline,” he murmured. “You always were so loyal. And yet, I confess it is not entirely flattering to me that you immediately assume I have landed myself in the briars.”

Aware of a rising warmth within herself to match what she saw in his eyes, Emmaline stepped away from Jeremy. A trifle breathlessly she said, “Oh, are you not? I am sorry then. I fear I am taking after my sisters. What is the reason you wished to speak with me?”

As she waited, Emmaline could not help but regret, as she had since his arrival, that the dress she wore was sadly out of date. For the first time in a long while she wished she had taken more pains with her hair. Particularly when she looked at Jeremy, resplendent in his coat of blue Bath cloth, biscuit-colored trousers, polished boots, and neatly tied neckcloth. Already shaken, she was completely undone when he came forward and grasped her hand. There was a kindness in his voice that she remembered all too well as he said, still ignoring her question, “How do you go on, Emmaline? It cannot be easy with your father ill and you the one to always be looking after him.”

Coloring, Emmaline looked down, afraid to meet Jeremy’s eyes. “You are kind, but I have grown accustomed, some time since, to my situation,” she said quietly.

“Well so your father has not,” Jeremy replied gently. “He wishes far more for you. A husband, a family perhaps.”

Snatching back her hand, Emmaline hastily turned away. “You need not roast me,” she said with dignity. “I know very well that I am all but on the shelf. At my last prayers, in fact. But I cannot change what it is.”

“No, but I should like to alter your situation,” Jeremy said gently from a point just above and behind her shoulder.

Puzzled, Emmaline turned to face him. “What are you trying to say to me?” she demanded warily. “What harebrained scheme have you hatched this time?”

A wry smile upon his face, Jeremy said, “None, my dear Emmaline. What I am trying to say, so wretchedly I fear, is that I should like you to become my wife.”

All the colors drained from Emmaline’s face and she found herself sitting down in the nearest chair. “What did you say?” she asked at last.

Bitterness twitched at Jeremy’s lips as he said, “I have asked you to marry me, Miss Delwyn. Apparently my proposal was a far greater shock to you than I had anticipated; I am sorry. I had not realized how thoroughly news of my reputation must have reached you.”

Abruptly he knelt in front of her. “Were there more time, I should have courted you for the weeks or months that custom prescribes. With your father’s illness, however, it is his own wish that I should not wait. And I need no such time to know my own heart.” He hesitated, then added, “We are not entirely strangers. You know me well I enough to know that I do not dance to the tune of convention nor do I think that you do. But if your father should die before we were married, then the wedding would have to be put off some months at the least, perhaps a year, and your father does not wish that to happen.”

“You, you have already spoken to my father?” Emmaline said in astonishment. “And he approves?”

Jeremy cocked his head. “Did you think me so lost to all decency that I would speak to you first? Ask him, if you will, what he thinks of the notion. Then give me your answer. I shall wait right here, if you wish, while you do.”

A trifle dazed, Emmaline stood and Jeremy stood with her. “Yes, yes,” she said absently, “perhaps that would be best. Pray excuse me. I shall return shortly.”

Upstairs she found her father and his friends talking quietly. At the sight of her stunned face, Lord Barnett rose to his feet. “Shall I leave the two of you alone?” he asked.

Emmaline put out a hand to stop him. “No. Please. This concerns you as much as my father, I believe. Papa, is it true that you wish me to marry Jeremy Barnett?”

“I wish you to marry whomever you will. You know I have never pressed you to choose against your own inclinations. But I did think you liked the boy,” Sir Osbert countered. “Has Jeremy said he wishes to marry you?”

Emmaline nodded and he went on, “What did you tell him?”

Her eyes began to dance. “I didn’t answer. I was too astonished, I’m afraid, to do so.”

“Do you very much dislike the idea?” Gilbert asked, his expression held rigidly impassive.

Emmaline turned to face her father’s friend. “No,” she said honestly, “I cannot say that I dislike the notion. I have long felt a
tendre
for your son. But I knew that was a foolish fantasy and I did not expect him to feel the same. Indeed, before today I should have said he was all but unaware of my existence save as a sort of annoying younger sister, unrelated though we may be.”

Lord Barnett coughed. “Yes, well, young men do not always wear their hearts upon their sleeves. Nevertheless I must say the match has
my
approval. I think it would answer very well, both for you, Emmaline, and for my son Jeremy.”

“I should like it as well,” Sir Osbert said quietly. “You know I’ve always had a fondness for the boy and for you. If you married Jeremy, then I should not have to worry what will happen to you when I die. But the decision is yours, Emmaline. I should never wish to press you into anything you would find distasteful.”

Emmaline looked at Lord Barnett. “Is he serious in his proposal, your son?”

“Very serious,” Barnett answered gravely.

“Why now? Why so suddenly?” she persisted.

“He is aware of my condition, that is part of it, but that doesn’t matter,” Sir Osbert broke in to say. “I think you will find, my dear, that if you accept Jeremy Barnett, he will do his best to see you happy.”

Emmaline hesitated, then bent over to kiss her father’s forehead. “Then I shall accept Jeremy’s proposal, Papa. And I confess that I feel myself in some sort of wonderful dream. Shall I bring him back upstairs now?”

Sir Osbert’s eyes twinkled perceptibly as he replied, “After you have given Jeremy suitable time to reply to your acceptance, my dear. After all, he may wish to express his pleasure, you know.”

With a laugh Emmaline left her father’s bedroom. She did not at once return downstairs, however. Instead she went to her room and took her time rearranging her hair and changing her dress to one of blue cambric. The scooped neck and flounced hem were the latest fashion and the color flattered her eyes. It had been her one recent extravagance and now she wore it defiantly downstairs. It was not foolish vanity to wish to appear at one’s best for the man one was soon to marry.

The fact that Emmaline had so little time of late to think of clothes did not mean that she was unaware of the courage that came with knowing one looked one’s best.

Emmaline paused, and admitted to herself that she needed courage right now. There was something about Jeremy that frightened her—he no longer seemed the heedless boy she had fallen in love with so many years before. Instead, he had
become
the man who now claimed her, and that man was all but a stranger.

Nevertheless, there was a lightness to Emmaline’s step as she entered the parlor that with the rest of her transformation made Jeremy regard her with frank amazement and approval. Smiling, she said, “Well, my friend, unless you have changed your mind in the past half hour, then I should very much like to accept your proposal of marriage.”

For a moment Jeremy did not move. However happy the change in Emmaline’s appearance, he nevertheless felt suddenly trapped as a wild beast might when snared in a net. But then he was all courtesy as he possessed himself of Emmaline’s hand and smiled in return. “I am delighted,” he said.

Emmaline lowered her eyes, conscious of her heart racing at the warmth that seemed to fill Jeremy’s eyes. Before she could protest, he took her in his arms and kissed her. At first it was a gentle kiss, meant more as a token gesture than anything else. Then, as though a devil possessed him, he could not help kissing her with a growing insistence that forced her own lips apart as his arms tightened around her and hers around him. Jeremy broke off first, leaving Emmaline breathless.

A trifle frightened by feelings she had not known were in her, Emmaline stammered hastily, “My—my father would like to see you. Us. Right now.”

“Of course,” he said, stepping back. Silently he cursed himself for frightening her. After all, there was no need. She would be his wife soon enough and then there would be time to discover the truth of her nature, something that must in no way affect his decision to marry Emmaline. Theirs was, after all, an arranged marriage of sorts, and should she prove cold after the wedding, why then Jeremy would scarcely be at a loss to find warmth elsewhere. At that he was already an expert. It was madness to risk everything this way.

With an attempt to make amends he asked her gently, “Have I shocked you? I did not mean to. You were so beautiful just then, and I felt so fortunate. But let us go up and tell our fathers the good news.”

Swiftly Emmaline’s eyes rose to meet his. “Yes. I think they would like that,” she said honestly. With a half bow, Jeremy offered her his arm. Seated side by side, Lord Barnett and Sir Osbert received their children with warm congratulations. Lord Barnett went so far as to rub his hands together and say briskly, “Good. Now that’s settled, when shall we set the date for? Three weeks? Four? Or shall I arrange for a special license and we hold the wedding as soon as it arrives?”