A Matter of Choice

 

Chapter Forty-Three

The first day back at church, Emily steeled herself against enquiring eyes as her family took their place in the little-used Sidford pew. Whoever did not know yet that the two families were no longer to be united by the marriage of their offspring would surely know now. Emily looked straight ahead for the entire service and as she walked down the aisle and out the doors to the welcome refuge of her carriage. She only spared a glance for the empty space in the Warrington pew, and that sidelong look of her eyes all but undid her.

Fortunately, the weather had done a complete turnabout and Worcestershire was enjoying an early spring. This enabled Emily to spend much of her time in the garden discovering joy in the fresh sprinkling of colour gracing the beds of primula and crocus. The hedges were tinged with the promise of green as grey-brown stems stretched up their swelling buds to the sun. Emily studied a pale green leaf of hawthorn, just barely unfurled, while blackbirds whistled overhead. It wasn't long before she found herself leaning up against the bars of the west gate fighting tears that threatened to spill forth. Only one week had passed since the last time she was there but it seemed a lifetime ago. She stroked the weathered planks, still damp with dew, and thought back to all the meetings they had shared; the last was not the one she wished to dwell upon. She raised her face to the sun and let its warmth filter in through her pores - warm the distant reaches of her heart. And then reluctantly she turned her steps for home and the silent recriminations she was bound to meet there. Her parents did not need to use words to convey their displeasure and resentment of her actions. The only bright spot was her dear Aunt Letty, who never failed to have a warm smile and kind word for her.

Emily entered the drawing room to see her mother, a wide smile plastered on her hardened face, entertaining a visitor. Olivia stood the moment she observed Emily, and came forward with her hand outstretched.

"I know it has only been a week since we were last together at the assembly, but it feels like an age! How are you my dear friend?"

The affability of the greeting and Olivia's look that accompanied it all spoke sincerity. Emily let her initial reaction ebb, quickly deciding that her surprise visitor had not come solely to discover the truth of the rumours that were certain to be sweeping the town.

They chatted for fifteen minutes in an atmosphere made awkward by Mrs. Sidford's brittle façade of normalcy. The relief of both girls was tangible when Emily's mother finally excused herself to attend to a meeting with the housekeeper.

"I have dearly wanted time alone with you," said Olivia. "There is a matter I have long desired to discuss." At the change in Emily's expression Olivia smiled. "Do not be alarmed. It is not your interests that occupy my mind but my own. I am such a selfish creature."

Emily politely disclaimed and asked her to continue.

"You doubtless noticed that when my brother and myself first came to this town I behaved quite badly. I was shallow and insincere, and bent upon all manner of frivolous pastimes. I offered friendship that was hollow, and was intent to make sport of all the gentlemen I encountered, scheming to win their hearts from whomever they were already attached to. What vainglorious vanity! I have since become heartily ashamed of myself."

Emily knew not what to say. She had observed just such behaviour with her own eyes. She simply looked candidly at Olivia and gave her a little smile.

This was enough encouragement for Olivia to continue. "I see that I have been transparent," she said ruefully. "I never thought that my stay here in the country would engender a change in me. I only sought to fight the expected boredom with what fun I could create, but something happened to me. As I came to know you, Miss Chesterton, and my cousin James I began to wish to gain your friendship and respect. I began to see my pursuits as petty and trivial. During the time that we were snowed in, while my brother paced like a caged animal, I found I enjoyed the peaceful afternoons I spent in conversation with Sir Edward and Lady Warrington. I also read a book!"

"Is it so surprising to have read a book?" asked Emily when she saw that some kind of response was expected from her upon this announcement. "You have always appeared well-read to me."

"Appearances! Yes, I have always been good at appearances! I can speak of books I have only browsed through with much acuity! But this book, Mansfield Park, took a powerful hold. One of the characters reminded me of myself, and what I saw I did not like. I vowed to change. To become more like you. Do you think there is hope for me?"

Emily blushed. "There is nothing special about me," she said, "but if you indeed wish to reform your character, there must be hope. The very wish proves that there is goodness in you that is longing for expression."

"You don't think it too late? My brother has no confidence in me. He vows it is only a passing fancy, but I intend to prove him wrong. I know it will not be easy. I have been petted and cosseted by my mother my whole life and allowed to follow any headstrong whim that struck my fancy. Will you help me?" Olivia spoke with passion, and ended with a look of entreaty.

"I can offer you the support of my friendship," said Emily, "but I believe the rest is up to you."

"Would I . . . would I be able to join you and Miss Chesterton on your Saturday visits to the poor? I have never done such a thing and have no idea how to go about it. I am afraid I find poverty appalling but have always closed my eyes to it and counted my blessings that I was born into providence."

"You are most welcome to come," said Emily warmly. Olivia's open declaration impressed her, and her desire to do good in the world gave Emily more confidence in her change of character than all her other confessions combined. "I was long in ignorance of the great need that is felt among the lower classes. You are right in what you say. But for our birth, we could be suffering the same deprivations."

They made plans to meet the coming Saturday. Olivia would bring her own carriage to fetch Emily as the gig was not sufficient to hold three.

"I hope our friendship is well enough established for me to say what I am about to," said Olivia. "I know of your broken engagement to Lord Ralph - I was very pleased for your sake when I heard the news. It must have taken a deal of resolution and put you in an awkward situation with your parents. You deserve better than the likes of him, and I think you shall find just such a man."

"Thank you," said Emily, blushing lightly. "It means a lot to me to know not everybody thinks me a fool."

There was more that Olivia wanted to say, but she knew that it was too early in their new friendship. Hopefully before too long they would be able to share further confidences. On her return home she pondered all that she had observed. Emily was not despondent, but her colour was gone. Her glowing cheeks had become waxy pale, and strain showed in her eyes. She smiled less readily. Olivia thought she was holding up remarkably well, and hoped that, faced with the same obstacles to happiness, she would be able to muster as much fortitude. That something had happened besides the break-up there was no doubt. What had sent James rabbiting off to Bedfordshire when Mr. Turnbull was supposed to have gone? When she had watched Emily and James waltz at the assembly she had so much hope for them. What had made her cousin leave? Now the only barricade that stood in their way was eliminated -- and he wasn't here to benefit. It was beyond her understanding, but if there was anything she had the power to do to fix the situation, she wasn't above scheming, manipulating and conniving to achieve it. She had not changed that much!

Maude Sidford was pleased to receive an invitation to Wilverton to meet Lady Prescott's houseguests. She had feared banishment from that august establishment, and she was appreciative of her old friend's benevolence in including not only herself, but Emily too in the invitation. The fact that the visit would also serve to show them where they now stood and what they had both lost also crossed her mind, but she was willing to humble herself and she felt that Emily deserved to be severely chastised. Moreover, it was still imperative for Emily to marry well. If they were shunned by society, there would be no hope for her.

Their perilous finances were still secret, and hopefully would remain so. Her husband was closeted with his lawyer, attempting to unravel their confusing debts and manipulate their holdings to keep their creditors at bay. In the meantime there was nothing to do but order a new gown and make the best of it. Emily needed to put herself forward -- maybe Mr. Braithwaite could be convinced to come up to scratch. He had been showing a pronounced interest.

Emily was not as complacent about attending the evening party at Wilverton as her mother. The last thing she wanted was to face Lady Prescott. And to sit socially in the same room with Lord Ralph after all his presumption would be abhorrent to her. There was no getting out of it, though. Emily knew that she had to make little concessions to her parents. She would save the confrontations for her important decisions. The ones that really mattered.

Lady Prescott had invited all the young people of the neighbourhood to her evening gathering. Emily was introduced to Contessa Fuentes and her daughter, Senorita Carmen, and then joined Olivia and Sophie by the tea table.

Sophie sidled up to Emily and whispered, "Thank you for finally releasing Lord Ralph. I am pleased that you now understand the importance of true love."

"I did not do it for you, Sophie," said Emily calmly. "I did it for myself."

"But I shall forever be in your debt when I become Lady Prescott," sighed Sophie. "You have thrown a fortune away! You did not use much foresight in that decision. I would never do such a foolish thing!"

"You still have to make sure of him," said Emily, somewhat nettled by Sophie's criticism.

"He is mine for the taking," said Sophie with confidence. "I know his heart."

Emily stared hard at Sophie and then said, "I don't think you love him at all!"

Sophie giggled. "What's love got to do with it?" she asked with a wink.

"I believe you have some competition, so I shouldn't act so smug if I were you," said Olivia.

"You? I think not!" said Sophie, her hackles rising.

"I wasn't referring to myself. I have no interest in that clod-pole no matter how much money he has. I would prefer a husband who has eyes only for me. I was actually referring to his new houseguest. She is very alluring."

Sophie looked over at Senorita Carmen, who was greeting some new arrivals. Her skin was a soft caramel, her eyes dark, her hair burnished ebony. She wore it held up with tortoiseshell combs, a white lace mantilla flowing down to her shoulders. She was dressed all in white with rubies flashing at her throat. Her body was full and well formed, and her countenance striking.

"She? She is so dark, and her nose is hawkish. I am told she is only twenty, but to my eye she is much older than that. What could possibly tempt him?" Sophie eyed Olivia with disdain.

"I agree, she is very womanly for her young age, but I hardly think that a figure such as hers would not be tempting to Lord Ralph, from what you and I know of him."

Sophie had the grace to blush. "I do not know what you are referring to!"

"As a lady, I can put it no more explicitly," said Olivia demurely.

"Whatever you are inferring about me applies equally to yourself!" hissed Sophie.

"Oh no, because I was able to repress any of his pretensions. I had no desire to promote them," said Olivia wickedly.

"Outrageous!" whispered Sophie, and she flounced away to talk to Miss Cordelia.

Emily, in the meantime, had been addressed by Bertie, and missed the rest of the conversation, only noticing Sophie walk away with her eyes flashing angrily. As Olivia joined them and entered a discussion that revolved around the attributes of his new mare, Lord Ralph came up behind Emily and whispered in her ear.

"I need to speak with you."

Emily turned and looked at him. "There is nothing further to say."

She returned her attention to Bertie and was about to interpose a remark when she felt a hand on her arm. She looked back at Lord Ralph again, her face registering irritation.

"Won't you reconsider?" he asked pleadingly.

Emily looked beyond him. "Your mother is watching you," she said. "I don't think she is well pleased with your behaviour."

His hand dropped from her arm as if burned. He shot a glance at Lady Prescott who looked very grim indeed, and then walked off to strike up a conversation with Sophie. This did nothing to ease the light in his mother's eye, or to alleviate his distress. Sophie was all welcoming friendliness, but he was looking for commiseration. She fluttered her eyelashes and leaned close to him, whispering scathing comments about Olivia and Emily's gowns and laughing fatuously. Unexpectedly, from across the room, he made eye contact with someone who appeared to understand exactly what he was going through. She lowered her gaze a moment after their eyes met, but that moment was enough to convey sympathy and hope. Her dark eyes were very fine and expressive. He wondered he had not noticed before how attractive she was. He barely attended to Sophie's nonsense as he began to explore new possibilities.

Later that evening, Contessa Fuentes joined her daughter in her bedchamber.

"This is all going so much better than we had planned. Our timing has been perfect. Only think, you no longer have to pursue an engaged man and convince him to break a longstanding engagement. A gentleman suffering rejection is such easy prey - we will have our fortunes made this time."

Carmen smiled slyly, not the demure debutante smile that played upon her lips for most of the day. "A few words of compassion, outrage at the injustice of his situation, and a little flattery should do the trick. He appears a very vain man and will be easily duped. The mother will not be so compliant, I think."

"Lady Prescott likes her own way," replied the contessa. "Acquiesce to her every wish. Show her a demure, biddable face, and you are guaranteed success. She will be in for a surprise after you marry her son, but she need never know that she is in danger of losing her power."

"It is so sad that papa left us destitute," said Carmen wistfully. "But with Lord Ralph's money I should lack for nothing, and my little Ferdinand will be well provided for. I learned my lesson with my first marriage, mama -- there is only one love that endures and that is the love of a parent for a child."

"But take care that Lord Ralph knows nothing of Ferdinand. We can introduce him as a nephew after the marriage."

"A deathbed promise to care for my beloved cousin's child!" Carmen said with such feeling that her mother's heart glowed in admiration at her skill.

"And his father, a brave soldier who died in the war! That part would even be true. It is well that our luck has finally turned. It pays to keep in touch with one's old friends, my dear," said the contessa kissing her daughter's cheek.

"Mama!" cried Carmen, giving her a hug. "A daughter could ask for no better a mother than you."

 

 

Chapter Forty-Four

James performed his inspection of his brother's small estate and soon realised that the state of disrepair did not extend to everything. Where money could be made, the previous steward had things in good order, but the house and grounds, the tenant cottages, and the lanes and hedgerows were all neglected. Labourers had been severely underpaid, and none but the most desperate were willing to work at Tynestead. When he checked the books it was evident that the man had been skimming off the top. Entries for wages did not match what James had been told by the workers. Claims were made for maintenance work that obviously had not been discharged. It was only sheer luck that the man had left the captain's employ for a larger estate in the south. George had never been aware how harshly he was being fleeced.

By the end of the week, James bid adieu to his brother who was anticipating returning to the work of a soldier. The idea of Burma excited George's love of travel and adventure. The parting was warm and affectionate, neither knowing how many years it would be before they could see each other again.

"If only you could come with me and make your fortune, then you could have any heiress that you want!" cried George.

"I would need to go to sea for that, and plunder ships, and I am afraid I would not make a good sailor," retorted James, giving his brother a final hug. "Don't worry about me, I will survive!"

"That is what worries me," said George. "I want more than your survival -- I want your happiness! Au revoir!" He jumped aboard the box of his curricle, took the reins, and tooled his horses up the drive at a fair clip. James stood and watched until all that was left was the dust of the carriage's wake, and then he turned and went indoors, alone once more.

Being alone did not sit well with James. It caused him to drift back and think of ‘what ifs' and ‘might have beens', and not for the first time, he wondered whether his decision had been the wrong one. Whether he should have stayed. But if he had, what then? He could not have faced Lord Ralph again without telling him exactly what he thought of him. He could not have forced his suit upon Emily while she was bound to another; he could not have asked her to give up everything for him. In the end he would have been rejected, most kindly, he knew that, and the result would have been the same. He would have had to leave, and worse, he would have caused Emily pain and public humiliation. He would never, for the life of him, knowingly do that to her.

He wished with all his heart that he had had the strength to stay by her side and offer friendship and support that was not overpowered by his love for her, but he knew that was unrealisable. To see her and not be able to hold her had become near impossible to bear. To know that she could never be his; that even if she came to the realisation that Lord Ralph was not worthy to be her husband and ended the engagement, no man, however upstanding, would be acceptable as her husband in his eyes, and he had no desire to be witness to it. He attempted to make his selfishness abate; to admit that if what he wanted above all was her happiness, he should rejoice if she fell in love with the honourable scion of a respected house; but he could not.

He wished he could visit his parents and his dear Mary, but it was too soon. The wounds were too fresh and he was afraid that he would instantly give himself away as he did when he first saw his brother. Instead he wrote to them, trying to sound cheerful as possible, and promised to visit within the month, once he had attended to the most pressing tasks about the estate. In the meantime he threw himself into his work with unremitting intensity.

James planned out a rotation of the crops to try to rejuvenate the overtaxed soil. He hired crews to repair roofs, pick rocks, trim the hedgerows, and level the rutted lanes. He employed gardeners to bring the park and pleasure gardens to some semblance of their former grandeur. He worked late into the night with the hopes that, when he laid his head upon his pillow, sleep would come swiftly - a deep and dreamless sleep that would send his mind to oblivion for those few short hours. But when he lay upon his bed he was overcome with visions of Emily as he last saw her, her confused and stricken expression. The pleading in her eyes haunted him, and he would try to work out scenarios in which he could return to her, but no matter how much he tried, obstacles always arose that prevented a happy resolution. When sleep finally overtook him, his dreams were no better.

Saturday came, and Olivia arrived in a stylish chariot. Emily and Alice were waiting for her on the steps of Barstow Hall, and were handed up by the footman and on their way before Mrs. Sidford could come and query the need for the maid, if Olivia were to accompany Emily. Alice enjoyed her lessons immensely, and was a model student. Her ability matched her zeal, and she had aspirations to helping the Chesterton girls once their school finally opened. Emily was not going to let Alice miss an opportunity for her studies due to one of her mother's freakish whims.

"What a lovely day," said Olivia. "I do hope I am dressed acceptably. I have very few plain gowns. Well, to tell the truth I have none at all. Will this do?"

"Everyone will think you quite the lady," said Emily, "but it cannot be helped."

"I shall order a new gown in the most sombre hues, just to wear for my charity work," said Olivia with a smile.

"I don't think that will be necessary," said Emily. "What is important is that you are willing to help. We do not always go into people's homes. Often we spend our time sewing linen and children's smalls. Or we prepare medicines with herbs."

"My goodness! This is all such a novelty for me. I do hope I can remember how to set a straight seam!"

Ruth was very pleased to see them both, and if she was surprised that Olivia had joined them, she did not show it. Alice ran off to the classroom while the other three packed baskets with restorative jellies, apples, and rolls of bandages and salve.

"We must change the dressing on young Tom's leg if it is not to get infected," explained Ruth, "and I was lucky to still find apples in the storehouse. At this time of year, fruit is in short supply."

"I have brought some currant jelly," said Emily. "And lavender sachets, and bedding."

"I did not know what to bring," said Olivia, "but my uncle had some very good cheese that I got from cook, and a slab of bacon. I'm certain they will be in need of sustaining food as well as pork jellies and preserves."

"Oh! We must cut that up," said Ruth. "I will take it into the kitchen."

When she returned they set out in the chariot. "What an elegant equipage!" said Ruth. "When we wheel into her yard, old Mrs. Potts will think a duchess has come to call."

All in all, the visits went quite well for Olivia. She did not have to face the same depth of stench and squalor as Emily had to on her first visit, because so much had been done to improve the living conditions of the cottages on the Warrington estate. The situation of the cottagers on the other estates they visited had also benefited from the regular visits by the girls. The Grady children were all pleased to see them, knowing treats were in store, and Tom bravely suffered their ministrations to his injured leg. The baby was crawling about the house, plump-cheeked and bright eyed, and even Olivia, who had never seen him before, was thrilled with his vigour. She found that, although she was fascinated by it, she had to avert her gaze from the young mother's well-rounded belly. She had never witnessed such a sight before as all ladies of her acquaintance restricted themselves to their bedchambers when they were so close to their confinement. This woman had just been down on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. It gave Olivia much to think on.

They returned to the parsonage for tea, and while Olivia was distracted by questions from the young Chesterton boys who had taken quite a fancy to her, Ruth took Emily's hand and quietly asked, "How are you doing my dear? Was it very difficult for you? I am so relieved that it is finally done and you are free."

"Thank you," said Emily warmly. "My parents will never forgive me, I fear, but I have the love and support of dear Aunt Letty. Lord Ralph has behaved quite outlandishly, but I think he has finally accepted that I mean what I say."

"And besides that how are you holding up?" asked Ruth with compassion, not wanting to be direct or to mention a certain person's name.

Emily smiled softly and said that she was managing, but her looks belied her words. Her skin was waxy pale and the dark smudges under her eyes spoke of restless nights. "I am sorry for one thing," she said. "Now that I am no longer to be Lady Prescott, I will be unable to make you that bequest for your school as I had promised."

"I would never have expected you to sacrifice yourself just to endow my scheme!" said Ruth, taken aback. "Never be sorry for that."

"But your school is of utmost importance! I feel that I have let you down," said Emily with heartfelt sincerity.

"Emily! If you had married Lord Ralph you would have let me down. I have long felt you needed to break the engagement, but I was afraid to broach the subject. And I have something to tell you that will ease all your concerns. Yesterday Mr. Robbie Turnbull came by to see me. He was completing some commissions left to him by . . . our friend."

At the mention of Robbie Turnbull's name, Emily's face became alight with interest. She almost looked like the Emily that had been at the Chesterton's two short weeks before. "What task had . . . Mr. Warrington given him?" She stumbled over the name and looked very conscious.

"Sir Edward has made a cottage available to me for my school. I just have to tell them how I want it to be, and renovations will begin immediately. He has pledged to supply books and materials. It is more than I had ever dreamed possible. I did not tell you when you first arrived because I was hesitant to remind you . . ."

But Emily was no longer listening. Her face was glowing as she said, "You know that it was all because of him? It really must have been his idea! He is too good -- and the old gentleman too; how very kind."

The implications were not lost on her. She immediately knew that, although he believed in the school and would probably have approached Sir Edward with the idea anyway, his first thought in initiating this action was to make hers unnecessary. To give her one less reason to marry Lord Ralph. And she understood that though he would never have asked it of her, he had always wanted her to arrive at the conclusion for herself. Even in his letter he had not been able to bring himself to ask her to break the engagement, but he had alluded to it. He had suggested the possibility that she would eventually marry some other worthy gentleman. He would not ask her to do it for himself, but he had wanted her to do it for her own self. She felt her heart warm with even deeper love for him, and resultantly, she yearned all the more for his return. There was only one gentleman she would ever pledge herself to before God, just as she silently pledged her heart to him every night while she gazed at the scattered stars and whispered his name.

 

 

Chapter Forty-Five

"Dashed glad we are still welcome at the parsonage for Saturday dinners even though Cousin James has loped off!" said Percy, relaxing with a brandy by the fire upon their return to Wortham.

"Now that is something I never expected to hear from you!" cried Olivia. "You always said it was a deuced bore."

"I'll put up with anything for a chance to get into Miss Sidford's good graces. Now that she is free, I'm thinking of trying my luck with her."

"You can't be serious!" Olivia stared at her brother, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Close your mouth -- you look like a codfish!" Percy took another sip of brandy and stretched his legs out. "You must agree it's high time I settled down, and Miss Sidford is just the sort of wife that would do for me. She is pretty, well behaved, demure, and agreeably rich. She would grace the halls of Colhaven, bring up my standing in the community with her good works, and be a faithful and dutiful wife."

"But what on earth would induce her to marry you, Percy?" Olivia gave her brother a contemptuous smile.

"I believe she is quite taken with me," he said. Olivia sputtered. Percy gave her a hard stare. "You think it's all a hum?"

"I think you're flying too high! She is worth ten of you - and she hasn't shown the least bit of interest, rather the opposite, actually."

"I understand the lady much better than you, my dear," said Percy in a patronising manner. "While she was engaged, she could show no marked preference. In order to hide her interest she protected herself by being distant and stiff. However a lady does not break and engagement to a lord, especially one as rich as Lord Ralph, without good reason. It is obvious she is in love with someone else."

"And you have come to the conclusion that the lucky gentleman is you?" Olivia laughed. "What arrogant conceit!"

"Who else could it be? Farquar? The man is a buffoon, and she has known him for years without being tempted to break the engagement. Cousin James? He was besotted when he danced with her and had a regular set to with Lord Ralph before he exited the assembly hall, but he left for Bedfordshire with his tail between his legs. Now that was too smoky by half. Business that was too complicated for Turnbull to deal with! I have my doubts about that excuse. It's my belief Miss Sidford gave him a set down and he ran off to nurse his broken heart. That's what comes from aiming too high. For a lady of her stature to marry a steward is unthinkable. Who is left then? Lampton? Billingsworth? The only conclusion possible is that it's me, given the competition." Percy tossed his drink back with a satisfied flair, and poured another one.

"Your reasoning does wonders for your modesty," said Olivia dryly, "though I think you have got the wrong of it as regards Cousin James. He would not be one to attempt to woo an engaged lady. And don't discount his worth. He may be a steward, but he is more of a gentleman than you will ever be."

"I had suspected as much!" crowed Percy. "You are head over ears in love with him. That is what has spurred on your miraculous transformation!"

"Do not talk such fustian! I can value his good character without being in love! You are a regular pea-brain. I guarantee you will not stand a chance with Emily, in fact I will enjoy watching you fail in your pursuit of her!"

Olivia stood up and left the room abruptly. Percy continued to drink by the fire, his confidence unabated.

The full moon and the solstice brought on another assembly. The loss of Mr. James Warrington and addition of Senorita Carmen Fuentes, combined with the broken engagement between Emily and Lord Ralph made for quite a change in the dynamics of the affair. Sophie cast herself at Lord Ralph, and paid not the least bit of heed to Mr. Braithwaite. For Percy's part, he had no intention of continuing his dalliance with Miss Farquar; he had more important fish to fry in his attentive courting of Miss Sidford. Bertie Farquar waffled between singling out the lovely Spanish damsel or the newly available heiress, and as a result found himself out-manoeuvred on both fronts.

Lord Ralph had never found Miss Sophie more eager in his company, but for some reason, now that Emily no longer stood between them, he found her allure sadly flat. He cast many hostile glances in the direction of his former fiancée. It was unfair that she should appear so unruffled and content after all she had forsaken. Her complexion was a bit paler, to be sure, but she held herself with such confidence - when what she should have been suffering was mortification at her foolishness - that he was finally resigned to agree with his mother and turn his back on any hopes of reconciliation. One day she would realise just how much she had given up! He turned his attention back to his dusky partner, who smiled shyly at him and deferentially asked for his opinion on the music.

"Is this style of music to your liking, my Lord?" she asked in her soft, slightly foreign voice. "I should like to know what you prefer so I can learn to play it for you."

"My mother enjoys Mozart," replied Lord Ralph, reluctant to own his lack of knowledge when it came to composers.

"Yes, she has made that clear," said Carmen with a smile. "But what do you like? I would rather play to please you than to please your mother."

"I like something light and breezy," admitted Lord Ralph after giving the matter some thought. "Nothing melancholy or sombre. There has been too much of that sort of music to endure in the past. It gives me a fit of dismals just thinking about it."

"But . . . your mother gave me to believe you love nothing better than to sit and listen to music in the afternoons," said Carmen, her confusion showing. She suddenly smiled conspiratorially and whispered, "Oh, I see. It is a secret. I will not tell your mama. What is it you prefer then?"

"I'd as lief be out riding my hunter, and follow that with a cool tankard of ale."

"I dearly love to ride!" said Carmen. "Back home in Spain I have the most docile little mare."

"I could provide you with a mount while you stay with us. I'm certain I have something in the stables with a quiet nature to suit you."

Carmen expressed her gratitude and they made plans to ride the following day. Lord Ralph was left looking forward to the morrow when he could show off his prowess as a rider, and give the senorita some helpful pointers. This would be a great improvement on the endless concertos he had been subjected to ever since her arrival.

Emily was relieved that Lord Ralph did not ask her to dance. She had not even wanted to attend the assembly, but her mother had counted on it, and she knew it was one of the little concessions she could willingly make to keep the precarious peace that existed in their house. Percival Braithwaite continued to pay her attentions, though she was pleased to discover that he refrained from behaving as markedly forward as he had in the past. While he was not dancing with her, he sought to remain by her side, only dancing with Ruth and his sister when he could not be with her. Though he attempted to converse upon such innocuous subjects as music and books, there were others of her acquaintance she would have preferred to spend her time with. Her dance with Mr. Turnbull was a welcome respite, and she even danced with Bertie Farquar in the hopes that Mr. Braithwaite would be entertaining some other young lady when she returned to her seat.

When the strains of the waltz filled the room, her mind went back to the last assembly, and her dance with James. The feel of her hand in his, the look in his eyes, his closeness, the soft fragrance of sandalwood -- all these things came back to her as she stared out onto the dance floor, not seeing any of the couples that swirled before her. How could she not have realised, even then, that she loved him?

Suddenly, being in that room was too much for her. The heat of the dance hall, the din of conversations and music, the scraping of shoes upon the floor and the rustling of fabrics all overlapped into a confusing medley that threatened to overwhelm her. She excused herself to her companion, who graciously offered to take her out upon the balcony for some air. Emily declined, and went in search of Ruth, who immediately insisted that Mr. Turnbull take her outside where the air was fresh while she went in search of her mother.

Mr. Turnbull stood politely beside Emily as she rested on the balustrade and gazed at the stars. He asked no questions, but offered silent reassurance, and soon Emily felt all the discordant notes inside her head drift off into the night, to leave only the opalescent moonlight that entered through her eyes. Ruth returned shortly with the news that Mrs. Sidford had called for their carriage, and then the two friends escorted Emily to the entrance hall, where Mrs. Sidford was quietly fuming about the length of time it was taking to prepare her coach.

"How came you to take ill?" she asked as Emily joined her. "I was enjoying watching the dancing immensely. And I was furthering my acquaintance with the contessa. It is really too bad to have to leave early."

Emily said something conciliatory and then turned to thank Ruth and Mr. Turnbull for their kindness. She shut her ears to her mother's complaints on the drive home and as soon as she entered Barstow Hall she excused herself for the night and ran up to her room. Alice was waiting up for her, reading by the fireside, and immediately helped her out of her ball gown and into her night clothes. As soon as Emily was tucked into bed, and the candle blown out, Alice tiptoed from the room. Emily lay there, waiting to sleep; she let the waltz come to her, replete with its haunting strains and the comforting feeling of being within James' arms again.

The next day, Carmen joined Lord Ralph in the stables, wishful to see all the handsome animals she had to choose from. The groom led them down past box stalls to a neat little mare who gazed sweetly up at them. Carmen was enchanted, and stated that it was just the horse for her, and so like her beloved Seneca at home, but she begged to be allowed to see the rest of the horses. She stopped at the stall of a midnight black gelding that snorted and tossed his head and rolled his eyes at her.

"He is so beautiful." She gasped. "May I ride him instead?"

"He's a bit highly strung, I'm afraid," said Lord Ralph. "Not many but me can handle Tempest. Needs a firm hand."

"Oh! Please my Lord," begged Carmen. "If I am with you, what could go wrong?"

""He's not a fit mount for a lady," interposed the groom.
"Nonsense!" said Carmen. "He looks a perfect angel. If I am not to ride him, I will not ride at all."

Lord Ralph gave in against his better judgment. He was longing for a ride, and it would be impolite to leave Senorita Fuentes and go off on his own when he was promised to her for the afternoon. Hopefully she was right and his presence would keep the beast calm. He ordered Tempest and General, his favourite hunter, saddled, and he escorted the senorita out to wait in the drive.

"You are such an experienced rider," she said to him. "You must tell me what to do. I fear I shall not be quite up to your standard."

As they were waiting, Lord Ralph expounded about posture, a good seat, soft hands and control, while Carmen listened intently and asked the occasional question that showed her reliance in all that he said. When she was handed up onto Tempest's back, he became skittish, but she talked soothingly to him and he settled down. Lord Ralph insisted that they walk the horses to the meadow while Senorita Fuentes became accustomed to the animal she was riding. Inwardly he marvelled at how well behaved Tempest was being. He had been certain that the docile mare would have had to have been called for by now.

Once they reached the field they broke into a comfortable trot, and then a canter. Suddenly Tempest and the senorita galloped forward, the wind blowing her stylish riding hat from her head and causing her habit to billow and flow. Lord Ralph spurred his horse on to catch up to the runaway pair, hoping that Senorita Fuentes would not get thrown before he was able to subdue the beast, cursing himself for being fool enough to give in to her whim. Going neck or nothing speed, he watched them fly straight toward a low hedge and then smoothly sail right over it. When Lord Ralph reached the fence, General pulled up, and it was all he could do to stay in his saddle.

Carmen turned her horse easily and cantered back to where Lord Ralph sat upon his saddle - breathless, a look of unmitigated wonder upon his face. Her cheeks were flushed and she was smiling in animation.

"You are such a good teacher, my Lord! I have never ridden quite like that before. As they would say in Spain, it was fantastico!" She patted Tempest's neck and he whickered softly. "He is a very fine horse. I knew that I would enjoy riding him."

Lord Ralph continued to stare. He had taught her to ride like that? She learned very quickly. And not only that, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, sitting there in her red habit atop the jet-black horse, her dark eyes flashing, her velvety skin glowing. Beneath her demure exterior he sensed fire, and he was lost. His heart was hers. Enslaved. As he watched, her smile broadened, and still he sat -- spellbound.

 

© 2002, 2003 Copyright held by the author.

 

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