She smiled, stretching the corners of her mouth upward with a conscious physical effort. He was speaking of his family again. She tried to concentrate, to remember what he had told her of its members. She tried to think as his lips continued to move. And she tried not to think.
She did not want Ashley to be home. She wanted to be able to look at this man and see in him her future husband and life’s companion. She wanted to make a rational decision about her future. She wanted a husband and a home and a place of her own in society. She wanted babies. And perhaps beyond rationality, she wanted hope, the hope that an affection would grow, even love perhaps. She wanted to have control over her own destiny. She wanted the impossible—she wanted to benormal.
And she wanted the hope that her soul would be restored and healed and made whole again. So that she might take this man inside it.
She had to blink her eyes suddenly and saw when she could do so clearly again that he was looking at her with concern.
“Yes, you would, on my life,” he said, taking one of her hands in both of his. “And they would be willing to take you into their midst, Lady Emily. I know it. They love me, and they will love you. That is, theywouldlove you if...”
She wondered if she would have tumbled into love with him during the past week if her heart had been whole, if her soul had not been shattered long ago. She rather thought she might have. But a heart and soul could not be mended by the power of the will, she had discovered over seven years. And so she had accepted reality and moved on. She watched Lord Powell raise her hand to his lips and hold it there for a few moments. She was aware that other people must be observing them—probably with indulgence—and that he knew it. She was aware too that the announcement of their betrothal must be a common expectation tonight.
And then, before the set was at an end, Anna was there and Lord Powell was scrambling to his feet and bowing. She smiled warmly at him and took the seat he had vacated. She took both of Emily’s hands in hers.
“Ashley has come home,” she said unnecessarily. “He took passage from India without sending us word. He did it quite impulsively, he said. He was homesick. He has left Lady Ashley and their son in London. Luke is beside himself with joy. ’Tis a wonderful surprise for him, Emmy.”
Yes. There had always been a special bond between the brothers, even though they had been estranged for much of the year between Luke’s return from Paris and Ashley’s departure for India. Yes, Luke would be overjoyed.
But Anna’s eyes were keen on hers, and Emily knew why she had returned to the ballroom before the rest of the family and had come to talk to her sister. Anna knew. So did Luke, though not a word had been spoken on the subject since that dreadful day when he had found her and comforted her at the falls.
“Luke plans to send our carriage for them tomorrow,” Anna said. “I daresay he might even go himself to fetch them. ’Twill be good to meet Alice at last. And Thomas. The children will have yet another cousin with whom to play. Though Harry will doubtless sleep through it all. He seems content to sleep his life away, except at three o’clock each morning, when he thinks ’tis time for a leisurely meal and a play. His papa had a stern word with him about it just last night, but Harry merely yawned at him and blew bubbles and tried to pull his nose. Luke says he must learn greater respect.” She laughed, but her eyes were still on Emily’s and were still almost anxious.
Emily smiled. Anna was saying more than she usually did all at once to her sister. Anna was worried about her—about how she would behave, how she would feel.
“Lord Ashley Kendrick must be exceedingly weary,” Lord Powell said. “But at the same time he must feel great pleasure at being back in the bosom of his family.”
“Yes.” Anna smiled warmly at him. “But heisweary. And so pale and thin that he looks almost emaciated. Traveling such a long distance by sea must be dreadful indeed. My husband has taken him to his room. Doubtless he will return to his guests soon. Ashley will want to sleep.”
Emily had wanted to die when news came three years before that Ashley had married Alice Kersey, the daughter of Sir Alexander Kersey, his superior in the East India Company. She had literally wanted to die. She had not wanted to live any longer. There had been nothing left to live for. It had been frighteningly easy after four whole years to regress to the terrible self-pity and feeling of isolation she had felt on the day of his departure.
She had dreamed during those four years. Of course, she had known the difference between dream and reality. Deep down she had known that Ashley had never loved her as she had loved him, that he would not come home to her, that there would never be a happily-ever-after with him. But it had been a sweet dream. It had sustained her through the pain and loneliness and emptiness she had felt deep within even while outwardly she set about living an active and fulfilling life. Her deepest, most private self might have lived on the dream for a lifetime, even if ten, twenty, fifty years had passed and he had not returned.
But the news of his marriage had shattered the dream beyond repair. And life without the dream had seemed insupportable to her. She simply could not live without it. She had wanted to die. She had had to begin all over again the lesson of self-reliance.
Soon afterward, Luke had presented her with her first suitor. Luke, she had realized, understood. He really did know her remarkably well. Better, perhaps, even than Anna. Luke had never offered her pity, except perhaps during that dreadful hour at the falls. Luke offered her solutions and then stepped back so that she could accept them or reject them as she chose.
Lord Powell had taken her hand again and was raising it to his lips once more. “I shall return for the supper set, Lady Emily,” he said slowly. The dancing had stopped, she noticed, and the dancers were preparing for the third set. “I shall look forward to it.”
“What a very pleasant young man,” Anna said after he had left.
Emily smiled at her and nodded.
“And a very attentive young man,” Anna said. “You could be happy with him, Emmy?”
Emily nodded.
Anna touched her arm. “You could love him, Emmy,” she said. “Oh, my dear, marry him if you have any feelings for him at all. I have told you repeatedly that you do not have to marry anyone, that you can stay here for the rest of your life and be as welcome as my own children. Luke has told you the same thing. We both mean what we say. But, Emmy, what you will miss if you do not love and do not marry. The closeness and the contentment, the... Faith, but this is not the time or place. I want you to be happy. You know that. I want you to be happy as I am.”
There was passion in Anna’s face. She was speaking with an earnestness that she would not normally have shown in such a public setting, and Emily had understood her even if she had not seen every word. Ashley had come home. But Ashley was married. He was a father. And during those moments when he had stood in the ballroom doorway, looking about him and then hugging Luke and Anna and the other members of his family, he had not once looked at her. Having greeted them all, he had been content. He had looked about no longer.
He had not looked for her.
Anna was afraid that Emily would forget reality.
She would not forget. Now that she had had a few minutes to recover herself, she would not forget again. She looked deliberately about the room until her eyes found Lord Powell leading Agnes out to join the third set. She smiled and knew that Anna saw both the direction of her eyes and her smile.
He was home. He was here at Bowden. He was upstairs, preparing for sleep.
He was thin and haggard. Exhausted from his long journey.
