“Any lady should consider herself fortunate,” she said.
•••
Ashleywas somewhat later than he intended at Lady Bryant’s ball. Luke and Anna and their children had arrived at Harndon House early in the evening, and he was caught up in all the bustle of greeting them and of adjudicating a fight between young George and James and then wrestling with both the boys, who had united against him while Luke was attempting to soothe a very cross and red-faced Harry and bend an ear to Joy’s advice at the same time, and Anna and the nurse were inspecting the nursery rooms with the housekeeper to see that all was in order.
He felt almost cheerful as he stood in the doorway of the ballroom and looked about. He saw Emily immediately. The music was between sets, and she stood close to Lady Sterne, surrounded by gentlemen, as she had been at Vauxhall last evening. She was laughing and plying her fan, flirting with her eyes over the top of it. As had been so last evening, her hair was elaborately styled and powdered and her face was painted with cosmetics. She wore a patch close to one corner of her mouth. She looked quite magnificent in a gown that appeared to be all silver. Only her fan was a different color. It was crimson.
He did not like to see her thus. He remembered his initial reaction to her at Luke’s ball, when he had singled her out as the loveliest lady in the room before he had known who she was. It had been one-tenth admiration he had felt, and nine-tenths pure lust. And when he looked at her now, it was hard to see past the outer appearance to the reality within. It was hard to see her as Emmy. He did not like the stirring of desire he felt when he saw her like this. And yet, he thought before he could push the memory away, she had not looked like this when he had possessed her. She had been Emmy then, his wild, reckless sprite.
But he was feeling almost cheerful. She was not with child. She had quite firmly rejected his marriage offers at Bowden. That episode, then, could and must be put behind him. He could safely return to the old relationship with her. It gladdened him that they no longer needed to dread seeing each other. It cheered him to think that he could actively seek her out as he had always done—though only to keep her on the periphery of his life, instead of at its center as he had done when she was a girl. He would avoid drawing her again into his darkness.
He watched her laugh at something one of her followers said to her. And there was pain again—yes, definitely, even though everyone else in the room might look at her and wonder at her total and vivid gaiety. He would have preferred to see Emmy where she belonged, to be who she really was. He smiled slightly and remembered the quite inexplicable disappointment that had warred with relief in him this afternoon. That she was not with child by him. That she would not be forced into marrying him. Relief had won—relief for both their sakes.
And then her eyes met his across the room. He had not been in her direct line of vision, but she had sensed his presence. She smiled her coquettish smile at him; then the fingers of the hand that was not holding her fan beckoned in a gesture that probably only he noticed. She was surrounded by admirers, but for the moment she was ignoring them.
Do join me,she was telling him.
And then she touched her fingertips to her heart.
I really want you to.
Ah, Emmy.
•••
“Lud,but ’tis working, Theo,” Lady Sterne said, touching her betrothed’s arm and patting it. “He did not like it at all when he discovered that she was engaged for the next two sets after his arrival. He went slinking off to lick his wounds until this set began.”
“He went to the card room and watched young Heyward lose a small fortune,” Lord Quinn said. “Looking as cool and as disapproving as Luke himself can appear, Marj. He has changed from the days of his wild and reckless youth, I warrant you. He has eyes for no one but the gel now.”
“And did you have a word with him this afternoon as you promised?” Lady Sterne asked. “I did think of mentioning the matter myself when he came to escort Emily to the park, but I thought ’twould seem too contrived if you then gave him the same hint.”
“Egad, but it felt wicked, Marj,” he said, “after we have assured the gel that our marrying will make no difference to her prospects. But the more I think of it, the more I like the idea formyself.”
She tapped him on the arm with her closed fan. “The thought of a private wedding trip to the Lakes for two weeks has an irresistible appeal,” she said. “But why should we not do it, Theo, and enjoy it too? The idea was not conceived selfishly, after all. ’Twas designed for dear Emily and Lord Ashley’s sake.”
“’Tis not sure yet, though, Marj,” Lord Quinn said with a sigh. “I merely dropped the hint. Luke and Anna are not far from Kent now that they have come to town from Bowden, I said. Anna must hope to spend a week or two with her sister after being away from her for a month, I said after taking time to discuss the weather. I sighed, m’dear, after talking about my visits to White’s this morning, and remarked that a short wedding trip would have been pleasant if it had not been the middle of the Season and if you had not taken on the duty of bringing out dear Lady Emily—not that you consider it a duty, of course, I hastened to add. But even so... And then I sighed piteously. One can only hope now that my nephy will conceive the idea, entirely on his own, you understand—of inviting Luke and Anna and Emily out to Penshurst for a week or two.”
“Lud, ’twill be the very thing,” Lady Sterne said. “Look at them, Theo. The very best-looking couple at the ball, and dancing the minuet as if they were unaware of anyone else’s existence. Who would guess that she is deaf, except for the fact that she dances almosttooperfectly? Dear Emily.”
“If the lad has not had her to the altar by the end of the summer and had her brought to bed of a boy before the beginning of next summer,” Lord Quinn said, “he is no nephy of mine, by my life.”
•••
Hewas not quite sure how she did it. He tried to imagine having to perform the steps of the minuet if he could not hear the music. It seemed impossible. But she danced perfectly in time to the music. More even than just that. She danced with grace and a sense of rhythm, as if she held the music inside herself, as if it was the other side of silence.
He smiled at her as he performed the elegant steps with her, and she smiled back. Emmy’s smile, happy, exuberant, and yet serene too. No longer coquettish.
And that was it, he thought. She did have music inside her, and beauty and peace and harmony. There were levels on which their two worlds could converge, and strangely, this was one of them. There was the music he could hear and the silent music she could feel. He remembered her painting and her explanation of the feeling of life and exaltation she had tried to reproduce with her brush and her paints. There was a beauty and richness of character and experience about Emmy far deeper than the powdered hair and the rouged cheeks and the provocatively placed heart-shaped patch she wore close to her lips.
An idea flashed into his mind—a desire to see Emmy in the hills behind Penshurst and on the shady walk beside the river. More than a desire—almost a yearning.
Despite his pleasure at once again being so near to Emmy, Ashley was not able to fully enjoy the dance. When he had returned from the card room to claim this set, he had found Emmy surrounded by the usual group of young men—plus Sir Henry Verney and his sister. Miss Verney had been talking with Lady Sterne until she was led away by a gentleman into the set that was forming. Verney himself had been talking with Emmy—and had been soliciting her company for the set following the minuet.
The thought of Verney, of all people, so much as touching Emmy made Ashley want to scoop her up into his arms and carry her forcefully off to a place of safety. Verney had better not consider becoming a regular member of her court, Ashley thought angrily; not if he knew what was good for him. And yet Ashley’s mind could not refrain from making the parallel. Ruined and abandoned—Alice by Verney, Emmy by himself. But there was a difference, he told himself. Alice had loved Verney passionately. His abandonment had destroyed all hope of future happiness for her. Emmy had not really been abandoned—he must not add that burden to his conscience. She had abandoned him.
“Thank you,” he said, bowing over her hand when the minuet was at an end and offering his arm to escort her back to Lady Sterne’s side. The wedding was only a few days off. Once it was over, he would have no further excuse to remain in town. There was work to be done at Penshurst. And yet the thought of returning there was chilling. That large and empty house was too new to give off any sense of history, but held only the presence of its most recent occupants. Alice was everywhere in that house. If he could fill it with guests... even perhaps with children... If Emmy were there...
He was forced to stand and make conversation with Verney, who had come early to claim his time with Emmy. He was forced to watch the two of them smile at each other and apparently like what they saw. And after a few minutes he was forced to watch Verney lead her away, presumably to find a couple of chairs or a sofa to sit upon. His eyes followed them all the way to the French doors, which stood open onto a veranda. It was bright with lamplight. He could see them strolling back and forth outside the doors for a couple of minutes, then could see them no more.
