Emilia

Chapter 4

Emilia was furious. She had been mistaken in Lord Elham. At first, he had seemed nice -- angry with her, certainly, yet basically decent. But in the end he had shown his real face -- he was nothing but a rake trying to take advantage of her situation. Who did he think she was? Some country wench hoping to become his passing fancy? She admitted she had not given him much reason to think well of her -- but he must have realised that she was respectable, despite the evidence pointing into a different direction. He had no right to treat her the way he had done.

Even though he had offered her an easy way out of her dilemma, Emilia now wondered why he had done that -- and what he expected of her in return. She would have to watch her step while he was around, she decided, and hoped he would not be around for long.

On reflection, she had to admit that his attempt to take her in his arms had not been so very disagreeable. There was something attractive about him, Emilia thought, though she could not quite determine what it was. He was handsome, but his attraction did not arise from his looks alone. There was also a great deal of charm in his manner, the laughter in his voice that had belied the gravity in his demeanour, and the readiness with which he had accepted her explanation. If he had accepted it. Emilia had not cared before what he would be thinking of her -- she had only wanted to make a clean breast of her problems. With a great deal of irritation, she realised that she did care about his opinion now. Which was, of course, preposterous. She would have to get rid of that notion. Who was Lord Elham to her, when all was said and done?

It took Emilia a couple of minutes to recover from her interview with Lord Elham before she could go back to her mother, who was keeping to her room. Lady Brentwood gave her an inquisitive look, realising that something was wrong with her.

"Who was that visitor?" she wanted to know, assuming correctly that Emilia's sudden irritation had something to do with the person who had called.

"Lord Elham," Emilia murmured.

"Who?" Lady Brentwood had not quite understood her, though she could guess what Emilia had said.

"Lord Elham," Emilia repeated, more loudly this time.

"Why did no one tell me?" Lady Brentwood demanded.

Emilia gave her mother a guilty look, not knowing what to answer. Tilda took the burden from her.

"You said you would not receive any visitors today, Mama," she said. Emilia gave her sister a grateful smile. In fact, it had been Tilda's idea that she should meet Lord Elham alone and be frank with him. In retrospect, it seemed like an excellent piece of advice -- even though his behaviour had left a great deal to be desired.

"Since Lord Elham is about to marry one of my daughters, don't you think I ought to see him?" Lady Brentwood asked. "About time he presented himself!"

"I told him you were out of sorts, Mama," Emilia said quietly, "and he promised to come back tomorrow. He wishes to make your acquaintance."

"He could have done so earlier," Lady Brentwood said dryly. "Before he proposed to you."

"Mama, please," Emilia said. "Do not judge him too severely because of that. He is a decent gentleman -- it was just ... the circumstances of our acquaintance were rather ... strange." That, Emilia thought, was the truth at least. There had to be some decency in Lord Elham, or he would not have hesitated to expose her as the liar that she was. As for the circumstances of their acquaintance -- calling them rather strange was an understatement.

"I cannot like this," Lady Brentwood said. "And I won't hesitate to tell him so, once I get the chance to talk to him."

This, Emilia thought, did not bode well for Elham's visit, and consequently she felt very nervous the following morning. Luckily, Mrs. Morton had come to call on Lady Brentwood and was still sitting with her when Lord Elham was announced. Gratefully, Emilia thought that her mother would defer her lecture to a more opportune moment -- and she hoped she would be able to warn Lord Elham beforehand.

His conduct with her mother and Mrs. Morton convinced Emilia that Elham did indeed possess a great deal of charm -- and knew exactly how to use it on a couple of dowagers to attain his objectives.
Within a couple of minutes he had twisted both ladies round his little finger. He had convinced them that he had never meant to do anything unseemly but, he had added with a boyish smile that had been the downfall of many a lady before, the thought of losing the beautiful Miss Brentwood had made him throw propriety overboard.

"I felt there could be no harm in securing her affection," he said, taking Emilia's hand, "and waiting for her father's return before making a formal announcement. I admit I was fairly certain that Sir Harry Brentwood would not withhold his consent. -- But it seems I have been unguarded. Somehow the news became known, which makes it necessary for us to act."

He was playing his part well, Emilia had to admit. The stage had lost a great talent simply because he had been born to be a member of the aristocracy. He was every bit the besotted lover who had thrown caution to the wind just to win his beloved. Her hand was still in his, and he showed no intention to release her. No doubt he was enjoying himself immensely -- he knew she could not withdraw it from his hold unless she wanted the truth to come out. A woman in love did not withdraw her hand from her lover's. She had to allow him to hold her hand for any length of time he chose. It was infuriating.

Finally, Lord Elham was invited to dine with them and dismissed. Lady Brentwood did allow Emilia to escort her betrothed to the front door, which was a sign of approval in a way -- she trusted him enough to let him be alone with her daughter for a minute or two.

"Though you do not seem to have cared for my permission very much before," Lady Brentwood said severely, before he took his leave.

"I am very sorry for it," Lord Elham said with an apologetic smile. "Be assured, ma'am, that it will not happen again. -- Though, when I am with Emilia, I cannot seem to keep my good sense. She makes me do all kinds of outrageous things."
That, Emilia thought, was doing it rather too brown, but neither her mother nor Mrs. Morton seemed to notice.

As they walked down the corridor to the front door, Emilia said indignantly, "Why did you say I encouraged you to do outrageous things?"

"Because it is the truth," he said. "Here I am, pretending to be your fiancé -- would you not say that was outrageous? And who encouraged me to do it?" He looked at her with a wicked grin. Emilia blushed.

"It was not kind of you to say such a thing to my mother," she said. "Within Mrs. Morton's hearing too! Are you going to undermine my character with all my neighbours?"

"Oh no, not all of them," he said soothingly. Emilia relaxed.

"Only those I meet till I have to go back to London." The furious look she gave him made him laugh. An angry Emilia was an amusing one, he thought.

With burning cheeks, Emilia told him to leave.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" Elham asked her with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"Certainly not," Emilia said resolutely, trying to turn away from him. He would not let her.

"I need to be alone with you once again," he said, getting hold of her hand. "The two of us ought to agree on the same story if we want this plan to work."

"I do not see why I should be alone with you to do that," Emilia snapped. "Why should I give you another opportunity to take advantage of me?"

"Why indeed? I just thought we should discuss how our engagement really came about. Our friends and families might get suspicious if there are two different versions of the story, my dear."

He had a point, and Emilia knew it, although she took grave exception to being called "my dear" in such a patronising way.

"I will think of something," she said curtly. "Until tonight then."

He gave Emilia a dazzling smile. "Until tonight."

---

The dinner went rather well, Elham thought. Lady Brentwood seemed to have forgiven him for "proposing" to her daughter without asking for her permission first, and Miss Emilia Brentwood appeared to warm towards him. She smiled at him more often than she frowned -- a definite improvement, he thought.

After dinner, he mentioned his grandmother's invitation.

"Both she and my mother are anxious to get acquainted with you as soon as possible," he said to Emilia and derived considerable amusement from her puzzled expression.

"Your grandmother and .... and your mother want to meet me?"

"They were actually quite put out to hear that I had become engaged to a young lady they have never met," he said. "I was ordered to make amends for my omission."

"I daresay so," Lady Brentwood said. "I was not very pleased either when I heard about that clandestine engagement, and if my son did something like this, I am afraid I'd take the girl in instant dislike."

"Mama, please," Emilia said uneasily. "Do you think they will dislike me?" she then asked Elham. There was genuine concern in her tone of voice.

"I cannot imagine why they should," he said reassuringly, and was rewarded with a lovely, though slightly apprehensive smile. "Does that mean you are coming?" He did not know why, but the prospect delighted him.

"I cannot travel to London all alone with you," she protested. "What would people think?"

"I never intended to take you to London all by yourself," he retorted. "Even I know what people would think if I did." Not that he cared though. People would talk anyway, whatever he did.

"May I take Tilda with me?" she asked. The sparkle in her eyes told him that she had hit upon an idea -- and he could make an educated guess as to what it was. Harbury was in London, after all.

Miss Brentwood shook her head. "I am not invited, Emilia. You cannot turn up on Lady Elham's doorstep with your sister in tow."

Elham gave Emilia's sister credit for her good sense. She was a pretty girl, too, though he could see why Harbury had failed to notice her in the presence of her more dazzling sister. A sojourn in London might actually do her good ... and if that meant Emilia was going to come to London, too - well, that could be arranged.

"My grandmother will be pleased to welcome you as well, Miss Brentwood," he said.

"But I find it a great piece of impertinence to foist me upon Lady Elham without warning," Miss Brentwood said.

"What if she invited you along with your sister?" Elham asked. Something in him wanted to oblige Emilia. If she wished her sister to come to London with her, he would do what was in his power to make her do so.

"In that case I would see no reason to refuse," Miss Brentwood said. "Provided that my mother gives her permission, that is."

Lady Brentwood was most ready to give her consent to the scheme -- here was the chance for her daughters to outshine every Beauty in London. It would serve her sister-in-law right to be suddenly confronted with her nieces -- the girls she had refused to launch into Society because they were prettier than her own daughters.

Lord Elham promised that he would procure an invitation for Miss Brentwood, and took his leave soon after that. Again, Emilia was allowed to see him off.

"When can I meet you again?" he asked her, taking her hand in his.

"Do you need to?"

"Undoubtedly," he said. "Do not forget that we need to corroborate each other -- we have to know what the other said about our engagement."

She nodded. "You will find us in the garden at ten o'clock tomorrow morning," she said.

"Us?" This was not quite what he had hoped for. He had wanted to see Emilia alone.

"Us. My sister and me. You are not going to catch me alone again so easily, my lord. I think I have assessed your character by now."

"Have you? And what is your conclusion?" he asked, with considerable amusement.

"My conclusion is that I will have to be very careful while you are around," she said earnestly. "It seems you take advantage of every opportunity."

He laughed. "That you may depend on," he said. "To be fair, I will give you a word of warning -- I am also good at contriving opportunities. You won't always be able to evade me."

"That became clear to me this morning," she said, giving him a slight smile. "But I do hope you are not quite as bad as you want me to believe -- were you serious when you promised to ask your grandmother to invite Tilda as well?"

"Perfectly serious," he said.

She gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I do not know why you are so kind to us but -- I am thankful nevertheless."

"Don't," he said earnestly. "I may still turn out to be just as bad as you think -- or even worse than that."

She laughed. "I do not believe it, sir. You are just trying to frighten me. -- Good night, my lord. You will find us in the garden tomorrow morning."

---

Elham was punctual the next morning. Upon inquiry, the butler informed him that Lady Brentwood was still in her room and not likely to come downstairs before noon. The young ladies were in the garden -- just as Emilia had promised. Elham thanked the butler and made his way around the house to the garden. The grounds surrounding the Manor House were vast -- and for a moment Elham was not sure how he was going to find the Brentwood sisters. Emilia had not given him a clue as to where in the garden she would be.

Then he saw a young boy -- not much older than fourteen - who was at work weeding a flowerbed, and Elham asked him whether he had seen the young ladies.

"Sure," the boy answered. "They are down at the bowling-green -- this way, sir."

Lord Elham thanked him and went into the direction the boy had indicated. He could hear the girls' laughter before he actually saw them. Only when he passed the trees that formed the boundaries of the ancient bowling-green, he saw Emilia and her sister play battledore and shuttlecock. They were so absorbed in their game that they did not see him coming -- and the expression of uninhibited enjoyment in Emilia's face made him stop short and watch her. She was moving swiftly, and hit the shuttlecock with such force that her sister had trouble to keep up with her. They seemed to have so much fun with their game that he felt sorely tempted to join in -- even though he had probably last played battledore when he was ten. It seemed he had missed out on a great deal of fun since then.

Finally, Miss Brentwood failed to hit the shuttlecock and it landed in one of the ancient yew trees that bordered the bowling green.

"Emilia," she protested. "Was this necessary? It will take us an age to get it down again!"

"Perhaps I may be of assistance?" Lord Elham asked, stepping forward. Emilia looked lovelier than ever -- her face was radiant, her eyes were bright, and her hair was slightly dishevelled - which added to her charm.

"Good morning, Lord Elham," she said, smiling mischievously. "We did not expect you so early."

"You said ten o'clock, didn't you?" he asked her.

"True, but that was before I became aware that you are used to town hours," she said laughingly. "It would not have surprised me had you been late."

"I do keep my appointments with ladies, usually," he said, laughing. "One might not get another chance if one doesn't."

"Are there many appointments with ladies?" she asked, with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

"Oh yes," he said. "So many that it is hard to keep track."

Her slight frown told him that she did not quite relish that answer. But what had she expected?

"Are you going to tell me that this has to stop, now that we are engaged," he asked her with a teasing smile.

"I have no right to," she said earnestly. "Even if our engagement had come about ... in the usual way, it would be up to you, wouldn't it? But then, I suppose, there would be no question as to what you'd do. Women do not like to share their husbands."

"Don't they?" he asked. He knew he was provoking her, but he liked the dangerous flash in her eyes when she was angry.

"No more than husbands like to share their wives, I daresay," she said dryly. "Marriage works both ways -- at least this is what I was taught to believe. -- But you have not come to discuss my notions regarding marriage with me, my lord. Shall we go to the summer house?"

He nodded assent, and offered both sisters his arm. The summer house was on the other side of the grounds, and on their way there, Emilia drew his attention to the distinctive features of the park. It was evident that she was proud of her home.

Only when they had sat down inside the summer house, Emilia returned to the topic he had wanted to talk about.

"Well, what was it that you wanted to discuss with me?

"What exactly did you tell my friend Harbury, Miss Emilia?" he asked, deciding not to beat about the bush.

Emilia gasped. "Sir George Harbury is ... he is a friend of yours?" This was obviously news to her, Lord Elham observed.

"Who do you think told me about his proposal -- and your reception of it?" he said earnestly.

Emilia grew pale. "Oh my , what a muddle I have made of everything," she sighed.

"Harbury felt -- let us say -- wronged. He strongly believed I should have told him about my engagement to the woman he wanted to marry. That was why he confronted me."

Nothing in his tone of voice conveyed any emotion, but Emilia was not fooled. She could imagine the scene that must have taken place between the two friends and felt extremely remorseful. She had not wanted to ruin their friendship -- how could she have known? Could it be that though she had not consciously remembered Elham's name, it had been somewhere in the back of her mind to be blurted out at the worst possible moment? Had Sir George Harbury mentioned his friend to her at some time in the past?

She realised Lord Elham was looking at her, apparently expecting her to answer a question.

"I am sorry," she said. "I did not listen. You were saying?"

"Nothing." He laughed. "I was still waiting for you to answer my question. What exactly did you tell Harbury?"

"That we were engaged."

"Obviously. What else?"

"That our fathers were partial to the idea of our marriage because they had known each other in school."

"Where did your father go to school then?" Lord Elham asked.

"Winchester," Emilia said. "It was Winchester, wasn't it, Tilda?" Her sister nodded.

"Then it won't work," Elham said. "Mine was at Harrow. -- Did your father attend a university?"

"Yes, he studied in Oxford."

"Good. Mine too. How old is your father?"

"Fifty," Emilia said.

"Mine, if he were still alive, would be fifty-four. So they might have met in Oxford." Elham was glad they had found an explanation for their fathers' supposed friendship. They should consider themselves lucky, he thought, that neither of their respective fathers could be questioned. His own father had died ten years before, and Emilia's was abroad.

"But I told Sir George they were at school with each other," Emilia said stubbornly.

"Then we shall say you were mistaken," Lord Elham insisted. "Everyone who is interested in how we got to know each other can trace both our fathers' scholastic careers. I'd rather not be detected telling untruths to people. How about you?"

Emilia shook her head. "I shall impersonate the scatterbrained female then," she said with a smile. "School, university -- what is the difference anyway?"

"Not too scatterbrained, if you please," Elham retorted. "Everybody knows I cannot abide that kind of women."

"Oh, I quite forgot. You are supposed to be in love with me," Emilia said with a laugh. "May I congratulate you on your performance, sir? You fooled everyone but me!"

"And me," Miss Brentwood said dryly. "Though I have to admit you might have, had I not been in Emilia's confidence."

"I am honoured," Lord Elham said lightly. He did not find Emilia's reference to play-acting remotely funny, but was reluctant to show it.

"So how are we going to make things fit?" Emilia asked. "Sir George thinks the engagement was arranged, and my mother thinks you were so infatuated with me that you did not consider the rules of decorum when you made me an offer. Which is true?"

"Both," Lord Elham said, after thinking for a while.

"How can this be?"

"I shall say that when my family insisted on my getting married soon, I remembered my father talking about one of his friends in Hampshire, whom he believed to have two lovely daughters. No one would question my decision to marry a woman my father would have approved."

"So you went to Hampshire to see us and promptly fell in love with me?" Emilia asked. "Who is going to believe that? It sounds rather unlikely to me."

"Can you think of a better idea?" he asked her. This time, his tone of voice betrayed his exasperation, and she was clever enough to realise what had caused it. He did not like to be questioned.

"I cannot," she said quietly, giving in. "And it does not really matter, does it? If we stick to this version, people will have to believe it."

"Provided your acting talent is comparable to mine," Elham said. He felt she had deserved that retaliation. Performance. Bah.

Emilia laughed. "One point in my favour is that I look harmless even though I am not."

"Evidently," Elham said.

"This is why people tend to believe me, even when they should not." She smiled. "But I think I ought to tell you that I do not lie very often. Only when I am forced to."

"Should I believe you now?" he asked, smiling at her.

"This is for you to decide," she said, laughing. "And now, let us go back inside. My mother will have got up by now."

Chapter 5

Lord Elham stayed in Hampshire for an entire week, calling on the Brentwood ladies every day. During these visits, Emilia took great care never to be alone with him. She had a reputation to lose, after all, and it had suffered enough as it was. The news of her clandestine engagement to one of the most eligible peers in England had spread like wildfire all over Little Compton and its vicinity, and Emilia could hardly bear the inquisitive looks directed at her and Lord Elham whenever they were seen in each other's company. Elham did not seem to mind her neighbours' curiosity, on the contrary -- he seemed quite content to add fuel to it whenever he could. Even though Emilia was careful never to be alone with him and never permitted a breach of propriety on his part, he managed to convey the message that he was desperately in love with her and, though in company he behaved with perfect propriety, there were speculations as to his conduct when he was alone with his bride.

"For you must admit," one Mrs. Hall said to Mrs. Morton, igniting the latter's wrath, "that his lordship can hardly keep his hands off her even in company. He's forever taking her hand, touching her arm -- all within the bounds of propriety, I daresay, after all they are engaged, but one does wonder what happens when they are alone."

"Emilia Brentwood has been brought up to know what is right and proper," Mrs. Morton snapped. "You need not worry about her morals, Mrs. Hall."

Later, Mrs. Morton admitted to herself that this comment had been cruel -- Mr. Hall's affair with an Alton widow was common knowledge, and no one liked to be reminded of such a sordid matter and one's inability to put a stop to it -- but Mrs. Morton would not allow anyone to speak ill of Emilia. Or Lord Elham, who was such a pleasant, well-mannered young gentleman.

A couple of days after Lord Elham's first visit, Lady Brentwood received a very proper letter from his grandmother, an invitation for all the ladies of the Brentwood family to visit her in London and stay there for as long as they wished. Lady Brentwood lost no time in expressing her gratitude and, though she declined the invitation for herself, her health not permitting a journey, she accepted it on behalf of her daughters.

There was no reason for Tilda to refuse the invitation any more. Hesitantly, she consented to accompanying her sister to London and even went so far as to hope that she would enjoy herself. Emilia was thrilled -- not only was she to go to London, but also would she be able to throw her sister in Sir George Harbury's way. For a moment she considered enlisting Lord Elham's assistance in the matter, but she gave up that thought immediately. She would have to tell him why she wanted to do so, and she was afraid he might poke fun at her sister or Sir George. Emilia did not know him well enough yet to confide in him.

Two weeks after he had left Little Compton, Lord Elham came back to take the Brentwood sisters to London. During the farewell dinner party Lady Brentwood had arranged for her daughters, he managed to convince her that her daughters were in good hands and that he had taken every precaution for their safety and comfort.

"I cannot help but feel anxious," Lady Brentwood admitted. "It is the first time my girls are going to leave me -- so far I have always been able to accompany them if they went away from home."

Lord Elham smiled. "I am beginning to feel guilty for taking them away from you," he said. "Will you be comfortable all by yourself, ma'am?"

"Certainly," Lady Brentwood said with a brave smile. "I had better get used to being alone -- sooner or later they will be gone anyway, and I must not stand in their way. Besides, my son is going to spend his vacation here, and once the next term starts the girls will be back. Never mind me, sir. I will be fine."

"I think it is very generous of you to let them go, Lady Brentwood," Elham said. There was no denying from which parent Emilia had inherited her good heart. "Will you promise me that, should you feel lonely or in need of your daughters' company, you will let us know? I will personally see to it that they are safely restored to you as soon as you want them."

This impressed Lady Brentwood so much that she took Emilia aside before she went to bed, and informed her that she had found herself a good man. "I shall be comfortable knowing that you are with him," she said. "I know he will take excellent care of you."

Hearing this, Emilia felt immensely guilty, and she was sorely tempted to tell her mother the truth. But this would put an end to all her plans concerning Tilda. Her mother would not let them go to London with Lord Elham if she knew the engagement was just a sham. Tilda would never see Sir George again, for it was certain he'd avoid them like the plague if the truth came out -- he was already avoiding them as it was, only in London he would not have a chance to stay away from them altogether. So Emilia remained silent on the topic of how her engagement had come about, and cried herself to sleep because, for the first time in her life, she had not confided in her mother. There was a rift between them, she felt, that could never be mended, and Emilia was keenly aware of the loss.

---

Emilia's inner turmoil showed. She looked heavy-eyed when she got in Lady Elham's travelling chaise the next morning, and Lord Elham was quick to pick up the traces of her disquiet.

"Have you been crying?" he asked her quietly as he handed her into the carriage.

Feeling that there was no use in denying the obvious, Emilia nodded. "Only a bout of homesickness," she said. He did not seem to believe her.

"You have not even left your home yet," he said.

"Anticipation of homesickness, then," she said sharply, her tone indicating that she did not want to be questioned.

"If you do not want to leave..." he said hesitantly, but stopped himself before offering to let her stay at home. She might accept the offer -- and he wanted her to come to London with him. If she stayed in Hampshire now, he felt, he'd never see her again -- and this would not do.

"It will be over soon, I guess," she merely said, attempting a smile. "Do not worry, sir, you will not be burdened with a lachrymose female on your journey."

He laughed. "I'd cheer you up before long," he said. "Depend on it." Then he turned to Matilda, assisting her to get into the carriage.

The journey was uneventful. They had started early in the morning, because Emilia had preferred not to spend the night somewhere on the road. She, Matilda and their maid were travelling in Lady Elham's comfortable carriage, while Lord Elham was on horseback, acting as their courier. Emilia was glad he was not in the carriage with them -- spending so much time in his company, she felt, would be awkward, especially since her maid did not know the truth about their engagement. Having to act like a devoted bride for hours was too much for Emilia. No doubt Lord Elham was able to keep up the pretence for ages, but Emilia was not much of an actress. Being cooped up with him in a carriage for an entire day was not what she wanted. Fortunately, Lord Elham did not live in his grandmother's house. Emilia would be able to keep up the obligatory conversations with him without incriminating herself,
but it would be difficult to keep up her role if he was always around.

At noon, the carriage stopped at an inn and Elham informed them that they would partake of a light luncheon there. He had ordered a private parlour for himself and the ladies in advance, and an excellent repast was awaiting them.

"It seems you have had everything arranged," Emilia said as the landlord left the private parlour. "Do you leave nothing to chance?"

"No," Lord Elham said. "Especially not if a lady's comfort depends on the arrangements."

"Do you know this place then," Tilda asked.

"Very well," Lord Elham said. "It is a respectable inn, offers excellent food and the rooms are comfortable and clean. I spend the nights here whenever I am obliged to go to Kent."

"You have property in Kent, Lord Elham?" Tilda asked. "I did not know that."

"It is not my property," Elham said. "One of my sisters is married to a Kentish gentleman -- a Mr. Sulgrave. You may know him -- he is a Member of Parliament like your uncle, Miss Brentwood."

Emilia realised that she did not know much about Lord Elham's family. This was the opportunity to mend matters -- it would look strange, she thought, if she did not know how many siblings there were in Elham's family, whether he had any aunts and uncles, or whether his brothers and sisters were married.

"This seems as if you were very close to your sister," she said.

"Lavinia? Not really," Elham said dismissively. "Though Sulgrave is a good friend of mine. Lavinia is my youngest sister, six years my junior. By the time she became old enough to be interesting -- and I am using that term in the broadest possible sense, Miss Emilia -- I was off to school. Then I went up to Oxford, my father died and my grandfather took it upon himself to instruct his heir, so I spent most of my spare time with my grandparents. I am afraid I do not know my sisters very well."

"There are more sisters then?" Emilia asked.

"Only one more. They are both married and I believe you will not see much of them, though knowing my grandmother as I do I am certain she will arrange a family meeting so everyone can make the acquaintance of the future Lady Elham."

He grinned as he saw Emilia grow pale. "Do not worry," he said. "It won't be as bad as it sounds. But I had best prepare you for it. My brother Gerald is two years younger than me, and you will find his character rather more serious than mine. He is a good fellow, very dependable, and I am sure you will like him. Caroline is the elder of my sisters. She married Sir Leonard Minton -- a Norfolk gentleman - five years ago and has, more or less, withdrawn from Society ever since. But I am sure she will make an exception for your sake." He smiled.
"Then there is Lavinia. She married two years ago and lives either in Kent or London. Then there are my father's brothers and sister, but they are not as important, though you will meet them too at some point. You may want to take care with my Uncle Thomas; he's a bit of a rake. Still unmarried, because he is quite unable to settle for one female at a time."

"A family trait, then," Emilia said challengingly.

"One might say so," Elham said, not inclined to pick up the challenge just yet. He had deliberately given her the impression that his morals were questionable, but in his opinion they were not much different from everyone else's. Had she ever considered how he'd have dealt with her, had he been a stickler for propriety? Rakes might have their faults, but narrow-mindedness was none of them. They forgave other people's transgressions just as easily as their own.

"Now about your family, Miss Emilia. There are a couple of things I do not know about them yet. Why, for example, did your father travel to India?"

"My great-uncle used to live there," Emilia said. "A year ago, he died -- and since he was a bachelor, he left a substantial fortune to his nephews -- my father and uncle. My father went to India to settle the business concerning the inheritance, also on my uncle's behalf. It would be inopportune for my uncle to leave England just now; he has to prepare for the upcoming elections. The electors might take offence."

"Presumably," Lord Elham said. "Do you meet your uncle frequently?"

"Not really," Emilia said. "He is in London most of the time, and my aunt is not very fond of us, so she does not encourage him to visit us very often."

"Then I daresay you have not met your cousins very often either," Lord Elham said reflectively. He did not know Mrs. Brentwood well, but he was sure she would be greatly aggravated if she found out that her nieces had come to London. One only had to look at Emilia to know why Mrs. Brentwood had refused to launch her nieces into Society -- that she had done so was self-evident.

"No, we are barely acquainted with them," Miss Brentwood said, thereby verifying his suspicion.

Their conversation abated while they turned their attention to their luncheon, and Emilia had to admit that the food in this inn was indeed excellent -- and that Lord Elham was a pleasant companion if he chose to. There was none of his flirting ways today, he paid equal attention to both her and her sister, and behaved with perfect propriety. Perhaps, Emilia thought, she owed this to his grandmother's influence. From what she had heard of Lady Elham, she was a formidable character, and it was well possible that she had given her grandson the strictest instructions regarding his dealings with her.

---

Emilia almost lost her nerve when they arrived in Clarges Street in the evening. She suddenly remembered her mother's comment -- that she would take any young woman behaving as Emilia has done in instant dislike -- and was therefore convinced that Lady Elham, and Lady Gilmorton too, would hate her.
One had to give Lord Elham credit that he always seemed to notice how she was feeling. They were going up the stairs to Lady Elham's drawing room when her hand was suddenly taken in his and given a reassuring squeeze.

"No need to be afraid," he whispered to her.

"But they will hate me," Emilia protested.

"No, they won't." Elham sounded rather certain, Emilia thought, but that could not convince her. She gave him an uncertain smile as they entered the drawing-room -- he rather thought it was an appeal for help, and he was ready to come to her rescue whenever it was necessary.
It wasn't.

His grandmother was in a most gracious mood, and her manners, though abrupt as always, left nothing to be desired. His mother, though reserved, did not dare to receive her future daughter-in-law with less than common civility, and Elham was sure she would take to Emilia sooner or later... what was he thinking? They would never be married, so basically it did not matter at all whether his mother and Emilia Brentwood got along. Still, he wanted them to.

Lord Elham stayed at his grandmother's house for another half hour, and Emilia felt immensely grateful for it. He showed an amount of support that she had not expected from him -- after all he had more or less been pushed into this situation, and no one would have blamed him if he had let her down. But he seemed to maintain his role well enough.

"Tomorrow, we will go shopping," Lady Elham announced. "You need all kinds of things to stock up your wardrobes, I am certain. Ball gowns, walking dresses, pelisses... all kinds of things."

Shyly, Emilia remarked that their wardrobes were already well-stocked. "We have everything we need, ma'am," she said.

"I daresay you do," Lady Elham said. "And I assume that among the young ladies in Winchester you are one of the leaders of fashion. But, I hope you will not take offence at my saying so, you lack town-bronze, my dear. Wouldn't you agree, Desmond?"

"I am afraid you are asking the wrong man, Grandmama," Lord Elham replied. "I can see no fault in Miss Emilia's appearance. Or in Miss Brentwood's," he added as an afterthought.

Lady Elham nodded. The boy was more besotted than she had thought. He was known to be overly fastidious when it came to a lady's attire, and surely he must have noticed that the Misses Brentwood, though well-dressed, were not clothed in the first style of elegance.

"Winchester is not out of the world, ma'am," Emilia said. Grandmother or not, she would not take any insults from anyone. Without being aware of it, with this comment Emilia earned Lady Elham's wholehearted approval. The girl stood up for herself. She stood up to her, and would most likely stand up to her overbearing grandson, too. It would do him a world of good.

"I did not mean to affront you -- or Winchester," Lady Elham said soothingly. "But you must know that my grandson is one of the most eligible men in England. Many eyes will be on you, and not everyone will be disposed to be friendly. Society ladies tend to be catty -- so let us not give them the opportunity to slight you on account of the way you dress."

"I was hoping people would like me for what I am," Emilia said.

"In London?" Lady Elham shook her head at so much ignorance -- or was it innocence, perhaps? "The Haut Ton is a snake pit, my dear. The sooner you find out, the better it is."

"Grandmama, do not scare Miss Emilia away," Lord Elham said with a smile. "After all the effort it took me to get her here!"

"It takes more than a couple of society ladies to scare me away," Emilia said. "I am not such a coward."

"I know," Elham said with a fond look at her. Again, Emilia marvelled at his acting talent.

He left soon after that, leaving Emilia and Tilda behind with his mother and grandmother. Emilia saw him go with an acute sense of regret. She attributed it to the fact that she had somehow got used to him, and that he was the only person in this family she knew. She and Tilda were left in a stranger's house, and apart from themselves they had no one to turn to. At least, the Ladies Elham and Gilmorton had received them kindly. They were to meet the rest of the family the next day, or so Lady Elham had said. Emilia did not particularly look forward to it, but she could see the necessity of being introduced to them, and the sooner she got it done the better.

---

The shopping expedition the next morning turned out to be very pleasant. Emilia realised that Lady Elham, despite her age, knew exactly what the current fashion was, and that her taste when it came to matters of clothing was impeccable. Before the morning was over, they had bought what Lady Elham thought necessary for them to make a hit in London's society, and they were just getting into Lady Elham's carriage when an elegant barouche stopped alongside theirs and a young lady greeted Lady Elham with a cheerful "Good morning, Grandmama!"

They were immediately introduced to Mrs. Sulgrave, Lord Elham's youngest sister, who turned out to be a lovely, well-bred young woman. She was pretty too -- and many of her grandmother's features could be found in her. Emilia strongly suspected that both, grandmother and granddaughter, had had many admirers before they had married.

Mrs. Sulgrave immediately took a fancy to the Misses Brentwood, Matilda especially, although she was also very kind to Emilia. The ladies parted greatly inclined to further their acquaintance in the evening -- for Mr. and Mrs. Sulgrave were to attend Lady Elham's "family meeting".

Later in the morning, Lady Elham had just retired to take her customary nap, the butler suddenly announced Mrs. Brentwood and her daughters.

Lady Gilmorton, in the absence of her mother-in-law, allowed the butler to show them in and Mrs. Brentwood entered the room with her three daughters in tow. All of them, Emilia thought, were rather plain, and seemed to have a talent to draw attention to the faults and blemishes in their appearance. They were dressed according to the latest fashion, it was true, but neither the colour nor the cut of their clothes became them. Undoubtedly they would look better if their dresses were a bit more flattering, but they didn't seem to notice anything was wrong with the way they dressed.

Mrs. Brentwood asked her eldest niece to introduce them to Lady Gilmorton and Matilda was scolded when she got her cousins' names wrong -- an understandable mistake, considering when they had last met them, Emilia thought.

As far as she was concerned, she did not bother who was Phoebe, Dorothy or Laura. They were all equally uninteresting, insipid girls, watching her like hawks in the hope to find something in her to censure later. She would have done anything rather than talk to them. But, for Lady Gilmorton's sake, Emilia kept up a conversation with her aunt and cousins who clearly seemed to resent her "brilliant match". Yet, they seemed determined to make use of Emilia's connection with the Ingleton family -- Mrs. Brentwood knew the elevated circles they moved in, and was going to use Emilia for her daughters' benefit.
She was going about it the wrong way, though. The short visit did nothing to establish the least bit of cordiality between Emilia and her uncle's family. Emilia realised that she -- and Lady Elham -- were going to be used for her aunt's purposes and became resolved to put a stop to that. For years, her aunt had refused to receive her and Tilda in her home, so Emilia did not feel obliged to her in the least. She would hold the Brentwoods at arm's length, she decided.

Hopefully she would be luckier with Elham's family than with her own.

Chapter 6

Emilia was sitting at her dressing-table, watching Sally do her hair when Tilda came in.

"Are you ready?" Tilda asked her sister. Emilia sighed.

"Nearly. Tilda, I am so nervous!"

"No wonder," Tilda said. "You are going to meet Lord Elham's entire family tonight."

"I was actually hoping you would reassure me," Emilia said, making an effort to smile.

"Not knowing those people, I am afraid I cannot," Tilda said. With a great deal of admiration, Emilia noticed that Tilda's new evening gown looked marvellous on her. Lady Elham was a genius. A few weeks' residence in London under her aegis, and Tilda would become a dazzling beauty.

"Too bad," Emilia sighed.

"What is too bad?" Tilda wanted to know.

"That Sir George will not be here tonight," Emilia said. "If he saw you in this dress, he'd forget about me in an instant."

Sally giggled, and Tilda hid her embarrassment by telling the maid to go about her business and never mind Sir George or any other gentleman her sister happened to mention.

"But honestly, Tilda, "Emilia said. "I believe you are in very good looks tonight -- you look like a fashion plate! Lovely!" She gave her sister another critical glance. "If only you'd take my advice about your hair though," she added.

"There is nothing wrong with my hair," Tilda protested.

"True, there is nothing wrong," Emilia said. "It looks very neat, to be sure. Miss Prim And Proper."

"I am prim and proper," Tilda said stubbornly.

"But you need not advertise that fact all over London," Emilia said with a mischievous smile. Tilda could not help but laugh. She knew her sister meant well after all.

"I am not like you," she finally said. "I do not do outrageous things. I am not daring."

"What I did had nothing to do with courage," Emilia said and sighed. "Stupidity sounds more like it."

"But surely you do not regret your engagement, Miss Emilia," Sally exclaimed reproachfully, and Emilia remembered that her maid was not familiar with her predicament.

"No, I do not," she said resolutely and, when her hair was finished, walked down the stairs with her sister.

"That was close," Tilda said calmly.

Emilia nodded. "I will have to take care," she said. "I cannot afford many of these mistakes." Sally was not known for her confidentiality, and Emilia was loath to provide the servants' quarters with amusement.

None of the guests had arrived yet, but Lady Elham and Lady Gilmorton were in the drawing room, and Lady Elham subjected the sisters to close scrutiny. She seemed very pleased with what she saw, and complimented both girls on their beauty.

She invited them to sit down with her, and spent the time remaining until the arrival of her dinner-guests informing the Brentwood sisters about everyone they were going to meet that evening. Lady Elham could be vastly entertaining when she chose to, and Emilia wondered whether it would be rude if she laughed out loud because of the sometimes outrageous things the old lady said. There was a certain resemblance between her and her grandson, Emilia thought, and she made a cautious remark to that effect. Lady Elham contradicted her.

"I do not think Elham is anything like me," she said and added, with a smile, "though he does strongly resemble one of his grandparents."

"Indeed?" Emilia asked.

"Unfortunately, you never knew my husband," Lady Elham said slightly mournfully. "There is much in my grandson's character that reminds me of him."

"Is Lord Elham like his grandfather in other respects as well?" Tilda asked.

Instead of answering the question, Lady Elham got up from her chair and asked the girls to follow her. She took them to her writing desk, opened one of the drawers and took out a large locket. It contained a miniature portrait of a young man.

"See for yourself," Lady Elham said and gave the locket to Emilia. The resemblance was undeniable, even though the young man in the picture was dressed in a way that had been all the rage about fifty years previously -- while the young man entering the drawing room at that moment was dressed in a style that was, quite certainly, all the rage now. Emilia could not deny that he looked very handsome.

Another young man followed in his wake, and Emilia assumed correctly that he was Lord Elham's brother.

Though Mr. Ingleton was perfectly civil to her, Emilia soon realised that he did not like her. He smiled at her, but his smile, unlike his brother's, did not reach his eyes and his voice when he spoke to her was impassive. Emilia wondered whether there was any particular reason for Mr. Ingleton's dislike of her -- for he seemed to be perfectly at ease with Tilda. Did he know the truth about her engagement?

Lady Elham told her grandson that they had just had a look at the former Earl's portrait. "You know, the one he gave to me as a present on our engagement," she said. "Which reminds me -- what did my grandson give you on the occasion, my dear? You have not told me yet."

Emilia blushed and stammered incoherently, and was saved by Lord Elham who informed his grandmother that they were "still discussing the matter".

"You mean you have not given her anything yet?" Lady Elham asked incredulously.

"Exactly," Elham said. "I do not know what to give her -- this matter needs careful deliberation, Grandmama."

"Nonsense. You should have given her a present a long time ago," Lady Elham said strictly. "I did not think my own grandson could be so remiss in such matters! Your grandfather certainly wasn't. Neither was your father, as far as I can recall. He gave your mother that delightful set of pearls."

"I do not know what Emilia wants," Elham defended himself, and Emilia, shocked at the direction this conversation was taking, quickly said, "I want nothing!"

That was true. She would never accept a gift from a man who was not really her fiancé.

"Surely not," Lady Elham said severely and turned back to her grandson. "Desmond, I expect you to give your future wife a proper gift."

Some more guests arrived at that moment, and Emilia made use of the ensuing distraction to tell Lord Elham exactly what she thought of the scheme.

"Don't you dare buy me a present," she whispered furiously.

"I will have to," Elham said, with an amused grin. "My grandmother wishes me to, and you may be certain she will keep asking questions."

"Tell her you gave me something then," Emilia said. "I will not take any presents from you, sir."

"Lie to my grandmother?" Elham asked in shocked accents. "Emilia! I could not -- not for the world!" His grin was positively evil, Emilia thought. "You will just have to accept a present," he said. "Even if it is from me. My grandmother will not rest until she has seen it. -- And now, you are going to be questioned by my Aunt Penelope. Poor you."

---

Aunt Penelope turned out to be a lady in her early forties, and very curious regarding the circumstances of Emilia's betrothal. Emilia answered her questions patiently, but since she often blushed and answered with a great deal of reluctance, this earned her the reputation of being "a very shy young lady, and not at all what one would have expected to be Elham's type", which amused Lord Elham to no end.

Elham's sister, Mrs. Sulgrave, and her husband were the next guests to arrive, and Mrs. Sulgrave rescued Emilia from her aunt's clutches. She sat down with the Brentwood sisters and they enjoyed some comfortable minutes in each other's company. Mr. Sulgrave was an amiable gentleman, about Lord Elham's age, and Emilia soon found herself discussing current politics with him. Then she remembered how her father deplored her talking about subjects unsuitable for a lady and said, apologetically, "I should stop discussing topics I know nothing about."

Mr. Sulgrave gave her a surprised look. "To me it did not look as if you knew nothing about the things we talked about, Miss Emilia," he said. "On the contrary -- I have found you quite well-informed."

"My father says women should not take an interest in politics," Emilia said. "He says our minds are not capable of dealing with subjects of more importance than household matters."

With a laugh, Mr. Sulgrave said, "This sounds to me as if your father feels threatened by a woman's intelligence. I know men like that, of course, but I am not one of them. I prefer sensible ladies to silly ones."

"I do not believe my father prefers silly women," Emilia said. "He only thinks cleverness is not a trait a lady should show off -- he finds it unbecoming if she does."

"Your father seems an opinionated gentleman, Miss Emilia," Mr. Sulgrave said with a smile.

Emilia did not answer. Instead, she imagined what her father would have to say on her present situation, were he acquainted with all the circumstances that had led to it. Most of the things he would have to say on the matter were not fit to be repeated in polite company, Emilia thought.

Sir Leonard and Lady Minton -- Lord Elham's sister and brother-in-law -- were the last guests to arrive. Lady Minton was clearly expecting, but, as she informed Emilia, nothing could have kept her at home once she had found out that she was going to be introduced to her brother's future wife. Like her sister, Lady Minton was very kind to both Emilia and Tilda, and Emilia began to feel more miserable by the minute. She felt she did not deserve these people's regard -- she was deceiving them all, making them believe she would soon be a member of their family knowing this would never be so. How could Elham tolerate such a thing -- and even take part in it?

It was Mrs. Sulgrave who added the final straw to Emilia's misery. The ladies had withdrawn after dinner, and Lord Elham's sisters were sitting with Emilia and Tilda. Mrs. Sulgrave remarked how charming Tilda looked that evening, and when Emilia said that she was trying to persuade her sister to wear her hair in a different style, Mrs. Sulgrave agreed with her that Tilda's hairstyle was too demure. She offered Tilda to send her coiffeur to attend to her, and being the polite creature that she was, Tilda did not refuse. Emilia gave Mrs. Sulgrave a grateful smile.

Lady Minton chimed in, praising said coiffeur in the highest terms and for a while, they talked of nothing but toilettes and hairstyles. Then Mrs. Sulgrave informed the Brentwood sisters that there was a soiree in her house the following day, and invited them to the gathering.

"I will send you a card of invitation tomorrow," she said with a smile. "If you are wondering why I have not done so yet, I simply did not know when you would arrive in London."

This was to be her -- and Tilda's -- first appearance in London society, Emilia thought, and thanked Mrs. Sulgrave for her invitation.

"Your generosity -- the generosity of everyone here, I have to add -- is quite overwhelming, Mrs. Sulgrave. I feel I do not deserve so much kindness," she said.

"Nonsense, my dear," Mrs. Sulgrave replied. "Why should you think so? You are going to be a member of my family -- my sister! That reminds me, there is no need for you to be on formal terms with me. Call me Lavinia, as everyone in the family does."

Another surge of guilt overcame Emilia, and as soon as she could reasonably do so, she excused herself and left the room.

---

When Elham and the other gentlemen joined the ladies, he instantly realised that Emilia was not there. After having waited for her for several minutes, he cautiously approached her sister and asked her whether she knew where Emilia was. Miss Brentwood shook her head but said, in a whisper, that Emilia had looked like a frightened lamb when she had left the room to fetch her shawl.

"Has anyone been unkind to her?" Lord Elham asked, determined to take any member of the family who had insulted Emilia severely to task.

"Not at all," Miss Brentwood said. "On the contrary. Your sisters were uncommonly friendly."

Lord Elham nodded, and left the room in order to look for Emilia. He found her in the book-room, sitting in the window-seat and staring into empty space. With a start, she turned round to face him, but seemed relieved to see that the intruder was Lord Elham and no one else.

"What is the matter?" he asked her kindly. "Why are you hiding here?"

Emilia sighed. "Everyone is so good to me," she said in a tearful voice. "I hate myself for doing this to them -- all this lying and play-acting! They do not deserve it. Why could I not just keep quiet when Sir George ..." She broke off.

Lord Elham felt a rush of sympathy. Her situation was awkward, he agreed, and that she was in it had been partly his fault.

"I am to blame as well," he said quietly, taking her hand. "We will see this through together, Emilia."

She shook her head and withdrew her hand from his. "I cannot go on like this," she said resolutely. "Let us break it off now. Why not enact a quarrel, while we are at it, so I can return to Little Compton tomorrow morning?"

The very last thing Lord Elham wanted her to do was to leave London. He wanted her to stay for a while, to get to know him -- get used to him. She would never permit him to visit her in Hampshire, he was certain of that. But there was no use in trying to persuade her. Lord Elham knew her well enough to know that pleading was completely useless. Apart from that, it was also decidedly beneath him. There was one thing though that might make her change her mind.

"Why not," he said coolly. "I am not going to keep you here against your will, Emilia. Let's break it off by all means." The look of profound relief in Emilia's face almost made Elham feel sorry for what he was going to say. "Harbury will be delighted, I am sure."

"I knew you would say something like this to force me to stay here!" she exclaimed angrily. "You are so..." She stopped, but the way she looked at him told Lord Elham that, had she continued her tirade, the terms she would have used to describe him would have hardly been flattering.

"Mean?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "Selfish? Provoking?"

"All of these," she snapped. Then her expression softened a bit. "Well, perhaps not mean."

Elham laughed. "It seems your opinion of me has improved then," he said. "Careful. You might fall in love with me before you know it."

"Hardly," Emilia said heatedly. "It takes more than a handsome face and deplorable manners to turn my head, sir."

"You think I'm handsome?" Elham asked her.

Startled, she looked at him. Had she really just called him handsome? No wonder he had picked her up on that - that man was too conceited by half. She hated him, and before she could stop herself she told him so in no uncertain terms. Then she realised she had just insulted the man who could, with one single action, ruin her.

Turning away from him, she said, "I wish I was dead."

"I could strangle you if it made you feel any better," Lord Elham said. Emilia turned back to him and saw his amused smile. It widened as Emilia looked at him, and suddenly Emilia burst out laughing. Elham joined in, and Emilia thought that, perhaps, he was not so bad after all. He had not taken her insults personally, and was able to cheer her up when she was feeling downhearted. That man had some hidden qualities.

But he was a man -- and one who did not let a good opportunity pass unnoticed. All of a sudden Emilia found herself in his arms, and though the situation was quite pleasant on the whole, she was not sure where this might end.

"Don't," she said anxiously, and he released her at once. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded, backing away from him. "Why carry your act so far?"

He did not answer Emilia's question, mainly because he realised that she was not ready for the truth. It was not an act. It had started out as one, certainly, but by now he was serious, and he did not know how to convince her. He would have to try, of course, but felt that this was not the right moment.

She drew herself up to her full, though inconsiderable height and said, with dignity, "Perhaps you had better not answer, for who knows if I could accept your reply. I do hope you will draw the line somewhere, my lord. It may be a novelty for you to consider someone else's well-being, but keep in mind that I have a reputation to lose."

She turned around and left the room without further ado. Lord Elham decided to stay behind for a while -- it would not do for them both to return to the drawing-room at the same time when they had both been missing before.

"Damn," he said softly as he poured himself some brandy from a decanter. Falling in love with the chit had not been a part of his plan.

He heard someone come towards the book room, and though he hoped it might be Emilia coming back he knew it was not her. Those steps were a man's. The door opened, and it was Gerry who asked him what the hell he was doing here when the house was full of guests.

"I'm having a glass of brandy," Elham informed his brother. "Do you want some too?"

Gerry shook his head. "No, thank you. You haven't answered my question, Des. What are you doing here?"

"Thinking," Elham said.

"About what?"

Elham sighed. "Many things," he said. "For instance, what am I going to give to Emilia as an engagement present?"

"A good thrashing might do," Gerry said bitterly.

"You do not like her, do you?" Lord Elham gave his brother a searching look.

"No," Gerry admitted. "I do not like her. Surprised?"

"To be honest, I am," Elham said, pouring himself some more brandy.

"After what the girl has done to you?" Gerry asked. "Des, I think you have made a mistake in acknowledging that engagement -- because this is what you have done, even though you did not send a notice to the Gazette. For all intents and purposes, you are betrothed to her, and I cannot help but wonder....perhaps this is what she wanted right from the beginning."

"And how could she have known that I would not kick up a dust over the affair -- or, at the very least, deny any knowledge of her existence?" Lord Elham asked. "No, Gerry. There have been attempts to trick me into marriage -- but that was not one of them. She wouldn't have me if I asked her," he added forlornly. "I had to give her my word that she need not marry me."

"She is very clever, no doubt," Gerry said coldly.

"I won't deny that I had similar thoughts at first," Lord Elham admitted. "But I found they were groundless once I had met her. Believe me, Gerry, she is not that kind. Try to be fair. If the whole thing had happened to someone else, you'd have thought it was an excellent joke."

He put his glass on the table and suggested they'd go back to the drawing-room. There they found Emilia sitting at a card-table with her sister and both of his sisters, playing whist. She seemed to be back to her usual good spirits, but the look of reproach when their eyes met told Lord Elham that she had not forgiven him yet. It would take time to win her over, he thought. Time and careful planning.

Chapter 7

Chloe Watson was an actress, although her enemies -- and there were plenty of them -- said that she kept up her acting in private life as well as on stage, and never was any good at it. This was unjust, Elham thought. His intimacy with her had shown him that she was indeed able to play a part -- he knew she did not care one jot for him and would drop him as soon as someone more affluent or more to her taste crossed her path, yet she was capable of displaying affection for him that he knew she did not feel.

Chloe was beautiful, there was no denying it. She had inherited her looks from her mother, who had been a celebrated actress and much-admired beauty in her day. The identity of Chloe's father was unknown, and some people speculated that the infamous Betty Watson herself would have been hard put to name him. Her favours had never been bestowed on one gentleman exclusively. Betty Watson's life was wild, and she died in a way that many people thought was a well-deserved judgment. The wife of one of her lovers had come to her house one evening and had found her husband in Betty Watson's arms -- a sight that had been too much for the lady's self-control. She shot Betty before her husband could wrest the pistol from her hands.

At that time, Chloe had been sixteen and ready to step into her mother's shoes. She took great care to learn from her mother's example, however. She never had more than one lover at a time, she never allowed herself to be more than moderately fond of anyone but herself, she took what she could while her affairs lasted and ended them before the men had the opportunity to grow tired of her. Her most important rule was never to associate with married men. Whenever she found out that her latest lover had formed what one generally called "a lasting attachment" and was thinking of marriage, she dropped him instantly. Her reluctance to become a married man's mistress had nothing to do with moral values but was merely an act of self-protection. Affairs with other women's husbands led to trouble, and trouble was something Chloe sought to avoid. There would never be any scenes with jealous wives -- she had witnessed enough to recoil from this - , and apart from that not many people frowned on her affairs with young bachelors or widowers of a certain age. Yet she knew society did not tolerate adultery -- not when people of her kind committed it.

Therefore, when Chloe Watson had heard the rumours about Lord Elham's engagement, she had known it was time to move on. She was perfectly ready to tell him, with heartbreaking generosity of course, that while she wished him very happy their affair could not last. But she had not really expected Elham to agree to her notion so quickly. So far, none of her lovers had been eager to give her up -- on the contrary.

Elham did not even wait for her to start her well-prepared speech when he finally called on her one morning. The moment he was ushered into her breakfast-parlour and had bid her good morning, he said, "I guess you have heard about my engagement."

"I have," Chloe said quietly, taking great care to sound suitably afflicted. "Considering what we meant to each other," she added in a tearful voice that did not fool him for a moment, no matter how often she applied her handkerchief to wipe hypothetical tears from her face, "you could at least have told me yourself. That I had to hear it from Mr. Bosworth, of all people! You have no heart, Elham!"

"Chloe, stop play-acting," Lord Elham said mercilessly. "You are not on stage. Let us be honest with each other for once."

"I have always been honest to you, Elham!" Chloe protested, a picture of Innocence Wronged.

Elham sighed. "If you say so," he said exasperatedly. "The fact is, Chloe, that I have come to tell you that we cannot go on in this way. From this point, we must walk down separate paths. I hope you will understand this -- there is only room for one woman in my life."

"I knew it," Chloe exclaimed. "I knew how it would be! Everyone warned me! Everyone told me that to become involved with you would lead me to ruin! Oh, why did I not listen? Here I am, with my heart broken, the love of my life gone and..."

"Stop it, Chloe," Elham said with a grin. "You're doing it rather too brown. The love of your life indeed. I know I was not your first lover, and I know I won't be the last either, so spare me this comedy if you please."

In principle, Chloe had nothing against their separation, but she felt she had been unfairly treated. She had known right from the start that their affair would only last until Elham got married -- but so far she had always been the one to end her love-affairs. She had never allowed any man to abandon her. But this was exactly what Elham was doing, and Chloe decided he would have to pay for this. She would get even with him before she grew much older.

"As you wish," she said coldly. "Then, sir, I have nothing more to say to you. Tell me about your fiancée. I have heard her described as a ravishing beauty. Is she more beautiful than me?"

Elham laughed. "I thought you had nothing more to say to me?" he asked. Chloe grabbed the sugar bowl and hurled it at him. He dodged the missile, and it crashed to pieces on the opposite wall.

"Bad shot, Chloe," he said calmly. "As to my fiancée's beauty -- to say she is more beautiful than you would insult you. To say she is not would insult her. So what am I to do? Let me say she is different and do credit to you both."

"Out," Chloe said in a furious whisper. "And never come back here again."

With an ironic smile, Elham bowed. "Good bye then, Miss Watson," he said. "My compliments to Bosworth."

"I do not think I shall see Mr. Bosworth at any time in the near future," Chloe said indignantly.

"Oh, I think you will," Elham said with a smile. "He's not one to wait on the sidelines for long."

Glad that he had brushed through this tolerably well, he left Chloe who immediately began to contemplate her retribution. No one, not even Lord Elham, was allowed to get rid of her in such a way.

---

While she had been reluctant to take Emilia's advice, Tilda had no chance to refuse Mrs. Sulgrave's assistance, and Emilia was extremely gratified by its effect. Mrs. Sulgrave's coiffeur was a genius, she thought. Tilda had never looked more beautiful than with her new, fashionable haircut. Apparently, the coiffeur had also applied a concoction of his that had made Tilda's hair look more brilliant. Emilia was sure her sister would not lack admirers while they were staying in London.

Emilia was not the only one to notice the improvement in Tilda's appearance. Lady Elham made some highly complimentary remarks, and when Lord Elham and Mr. Ingleton came to escort them to Mrs. Sulgrave's soiree in the evening Mr. Ingleton's admiring glances cast at her sister did not escape Emilia. She was glad that he seemed to like Tilda at least, even though he did not give Emilia the impression that he felt any kindness for her. His greeting was civil, but curt, and he did not bother to speak to her afterwards. Lord Elham seemed to notice his brother's behaviour and by the looks he gave Mr. Ingleton she could tell that he was not pleased with it.

The Sulgraves had a commodious house in Brook Street, and Mrs. Sulgrave was one of the most renowned hostesses in town. She strongly supported her husband's political ambitions and with her numerous parties provided him with ample opportunity to meet with people who could be of use to him. England's most influential politicians were to be found in her drawing-room as well as artists and writers, renowned scientists as well as the leading members of the clergy. It was therefore hardly surprising that Emilia would find her uncle and aunt among the guests -- Uncle Brentwood was a Member of Parliament, after all -- and that her cousins would be with them.

Emilia's uncle was pleasant enough. He did not share his wife's petty attitude regarding his nieces, and was genuinely delighted to see them. Aunt Brentwood treated her nieces with all propriety, but without any warmth in her manner. Her daughters followed their mother's example and, apart from a curtsey and a few civil platitudes, did not pay their cousins much attention until Lord Elham appeared at Emilia's side. Then, however, nothing could have surpassed their amiability.

Emilia introduced Lord Elham to her aunt and uncle, and while it looked as if his lordship got along well with Mr. Brentwood, it became quite evident that he did not think well of the gentleman's wife and daughters.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance at last," Mrs. Brentwood said in dulcet tones and held out her hand to Lord Elham, who dutifully kissed it. "Only the other day I said to dear Phoebe -- my eldest daughter, my lord -- how fortunate dearest Emilia is to have secured your affection! I do wonder how she did it."

"I believe it was her unpretentiousness that charmed me, ma'am," Lord Elham said with a touch of malice in his voice. "She is so very different from the ladies one generally meets in London. But I believe it is you I have to thank for this, haven't I?"

Flattered, Mrs. Brentwood said, "I must admit I did not do much to deserve such praise, sir. My brother-in-law's children live in the country, and I hardly ever see them."

"True," Lord Elham said and smiled. "And I am sure that if Emilia had spent more time in London, she might be just one of the crowd. As it is, she has become unique."

With an angry sniff, Mrs. Brentwood gathered her daughters around her and went to complain to her husband -- who was not inclined to listen to her protest but told her in no uncertain terms that she herself was to blame for the rebuff, after all she had refused to invite her nieces and could not blame people for drawing their own -- and accurate - conclusions.

There was one man among the guests whom Emilia had not expected to be there -- Sir George Harbury. This was their first meeting since his proposal, and Emilia felt the awkwardness of the situation. He greeted her politely and without betraying any perturbation on his part, but it was obvious to Emilia that he had rather be somewhere else. She liked the startled look he gave Tilda though -- he was obviously struck by her extraordinary prettiness, and immediately started a conversation with her. Things looked promising indeed for Tilda, Emilia thought, but forbade herself to be too optimistic.

"Happy?" Lord Elham asked at her shoulder. She turned around to look at him and found he was smiling down at her.

"Did you....did you ask Mrs. Sulgrave to invite Sir George?" Emilia asked.

"I did, but it turned out to be unnecessary," Lord Elham said. "She already had invited him, so there was no need for me to use my influence on his behalf." He laughed. "Not that I have any influence with my sister, mind you. But I believe his solicitude for your sister is Lavinia's doing."

"Is it?" Emilia asked, disappointed. So Sir George did not talk to Tilda because he wanted to, but because Mrs. Sulgrave had asked him to.

"She asked him to help her set the two of you at ease, since he is acquainted with you," Elham said with a smile.

"I would have hoped..." Emilia began but broke off. It was none of Lord Elham's business what she had hoped.

"That he would immediately bestow his affection on your sister rather than you, Emilia?" Emilia gave him a suspicious look. Was he making fun of her? It did not look like it -- his expression was grave. "To be honest, I do not think he deserves my good opinion if his affection could be switched from one person to another in a matter of a couple of days," he said. "He will not seek replacement for you just yet -- and for your sister's sake I sincerely hope that he will grow to love her for what she is, and not search for another Emilia."

"You knew all the while that I was talking about Tilda when I said someone else was ... fond of Sir George?" Emilia asked him.

"That it was someone you cared for a great deal was obvious," Elham said with a smile. "Besides, you as good as told me."

"I hoped you had not noticed my lapse," Emilia said, blushing.

He laughed. "You should know me better by now," he said. "I am not slow on the uptake, my dear."

She smiled. "I am fully aware of it, sir," she said with a slight blush.

"And I am fully aware that I owe your sojourn in London to your sister's partiality for a certain gentleman of my acquaintance," Lord Elham said. "I know perfectly well that you only came here for your sister's sake. You would not have come for mine." There was something wistful in his smile, Emilia thought, and wondered why.

"May I come to see you tomorrow," he asked, abruptly changing the topic. He was his cheerful old self again.

"Why?" Emilia asked suspiciously.

"There is something I have to say to you," he said. "And I do not care for an audience when I do so."

"You want to see me alone?" Emilia asked.

"I'd be glad if you could arrange it," Lord Elham said. "It is by no means uncommon for engaged couples to spend some time alone with each other on occasion, Emilia."

"But our engagement is an uncommon one," Emilia said with a slight smile.

"You have little trust in me," he complained. He sounded genuinely hurt.

"Very well, sir," Emilia said. "If you insist you may drive me out in your curricle tomorrow. An unexceptional activity, I am told."

"That depends on where I am taking you," he said with a laugh and a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He noticed the look of uncertainty in Emilia's eyes and added, "Do not worry. I have no evil plans concerning your virtue. I just want to..."

Emilia was not privileged to hear what he wanted. Lord Elham was interrupted by his grandmother, who wished to introduce Emilia to Lady Jersey, one of the all-powerful patronesses of Almack's. Lady Jersey seemed to like Emilia, and promised to supply the Brentwood sisters with vouchers for Almack's.

"Will there be an announcement soon?" she asked Lady Elham as they walked away from the happy couple.

"My grandson has not taken me in his confidence," Lady Elham said guardedly.

"But he is clearly besotted with her," Lady Jersey remarked. "She may be the making of him."

Lady Elham chose to leave that remark unanswered.

"It seems as if the young Lady Brentwood will become a proverb for beauty just as her predecessor was," Lady Jersey said. Lady Elham smiled. She had moved in London society for decades, but she was still not impervious to compliments.

"Did you doubt it, ma'am?" she asked. "The Earls of Elham have always been well-known for their good taste, after all."

Lady Jersey laughed. "Isn't it like you to turn a compliment to you into a compliment to your grandson, ma'am? Well, let's leave the matter be. I can quite understand why you are reluctant to talk about your grandson and the younger Miss Brentwood. But let me tell you that I believe they will make a beautiful couple."

With a slight nod, Lady Elham acknowledged the compliment, and Lady Jersey went off to speak to the hostess. Perhaps she could elicit from her what Lady Elham had been unwilling to tell.

---

Lord Elham was a puzzle from beginning to end, Emilia thought. He surprised her with acts of kindness, yet a moment later it became evident that he cared for no one in particular apart from himself. One instant, he could speak about serious topics with a great deal of sense and insight -- as he had done at the soiree when he had talked of Tilda and Sir George -- and in the next he behaved like a shallow socialite seeking only his amusement. Elham's character was unfathomable. It was difficult to find the real person behind all that play-acting.

He presented himself in Clarges Street at the appointed time the following morning to pick up Emilia for their drive in his curricle. Lady Elham merely told her grandson to behave himself and to bring Emilia back in time for their projected visit to Lady Minton, and before Emilia knew it she found herself sitting in the curricle next to Lord Elham and being driven through the London streets towards Hyde Park.

Emilia enjoyed herself very much. It was a particularly fine morning, and Emilia could not help but notice the many curious glances the passers-by cast at them. She could have done worse, Emilia supposed. She had not been in London for long, but she had realised that Lord Elham was a man of consequence, and to be seen with him would do her good, especially since his reputation -- despite the outrageous things he had said to her -- seemed to be comparatively flawless.

Lord Elham stopped his curricle once they had reached the park, ordered his groom to take care of the horses and then got down from the carriage to assist Emilia in getting out.
"Come," he said. "Let us take a turn about the park! There is something I want to show you."

Emilia noticed a small parcel he was carrying, and asked him what it was.

"You will see in a moment," he said and offered her his arm. They went along a narrow path until they reached a fountain which was surrounded by park benches. Lord Elham invited Emilia to sit down on one of them, and then handed her the parcel.

"Open it," he said with an expectant smile.

"What is it?" Emilia asked. Then suspicion dawned on her. Had he bought her a present after all? She opened the parcel, and found that it contained an elaborately carved ivory fan and a matching set of combs that she knew would look magnificent in her hair.

"This is the most beautiful present that anyone has ever given me," was Emilia's initial, unguarded reaction.

"I am glad you like it," Lord Elham said quietly. "It is only a trifle -- though it took me some time to find a present that would suit both my grandmother's idea of what is suitable for the occasion and your delicate notion of propriety. A true Herculean task, I can tell you."

"I cannot accept it," Emilia said unhappily. She could not take such a valuable present from Lord Elham -- the fan and combs must have cost a fortune.

"Why not?" Lord Elham asked.

"It is too..." she began.

"Listen, Emilia, you will accept it," Lord Elham said. There was a touch of impatience in his tone of voice. "We talked about this before, didn't we? My grandmother will not rest until I have given you something, and be assured, she can be pretty stubborn. You do not want her to become suspicious, do you?"

Emilia thought about this. It would do no harm, she supposed, if she kept the gift until she returned to Hampshire.

"I will give it back when we break off the engagement," she said determinedly. For some reason or other, that seemed to annoy him.

"And what use will it be to me?" he demanded.

"I do not know," she said. "You could give it to someone else, I suppose."

He gave an angry laugh. "I know you do not believe me to be a paragon of decency," he said. "But I would not have thought you'd accuse me of bad taste. Giving your present to another woman, indeed." Emilia realised the harshness of the insult she had offered him -- in return for a present that had cost him a great deal of money as well as effort to procure.

"I ... I am sorry," she said, awkwardly. "I should not have said such a thing. But, sir, I cannot feel comfortable unless you allow me to return the present as soon as we..."

"Fine, as you wish," he said impatiently. "You need not repeat it -- you have made your opinion clear enough right from the beginning." He got up from the bench. "It is about time for me to take you back to my grandmother's," he said in a level voice. "Let us go."

He turned away from her and began to walk back the path they had come from, leaving it to her to follow him.

"Lord Elham," Emilia cried, getting up from the bench. He turned around and looked at her.

"Yes?"

"I have not thanked you properly, sir," she said, conscious of the look of hurt in his eyes.

"For a present you are not going to keep?" he asked. "You need not, Miss Brentwood."

She had apparently ceased to be "Emilia" for him, and for some reason this did not suit her at all.
.
"I owe you an apology as well," she said. "Please listen to me, sir. I did not mean to insult you -- I just did not think. It is a deplorable habit of mine to say things without wasting a thought on the consequences -- it was like this with Sir George when I told him I was engaged to you, and it was the same just now. I did not mean to offend you, Lord Elham."

For a moment, none of them spoke. Then Lord Elham seemed to unbend a little. He did not say whether he had accepted her apology or not, but he offered her his arm and took her back to the carriage, speaking of insignificant trifles that had nothing to do with Emilia's present or the way she had received it. To the unsuspecting world, they looked like a young couple enjoying a quiet walk in each other's company. But Emilia knew better. They were only two people who had been thrown together by coincidence. They would never be a couple.

©2005 Copyright held by the author.

Back

Next

Back to Novel Idea