Verney had taken her down the steps into the garden, which had been made available to guests. There were lanterns among the trees, and seats. Ashley had been out there earlier while waiting for his set with Emmy—only now did it strike him as strange that he had not considered dancing with any other lady.
Certainly there was no reason why a man should not take his partner into the garden for a stroll. The night was warm and the ballroom almost uncomfortably hot. But Verney was not any man. And Emmy was not any partner. Ashley could feel the tension building inside himself, and then the anger. His uncle and Viscount Burdett were standing on either side of him, making conversation. But fury became like a steady hammer blow against Ashley’s eardrums, blocking out both the sound and the sense of what they were saying. He excused himself after five minutes had passed and made his way toward the French doors.
•••
Sheliked Sir Henry Verney and felt she could relax in his company. Unlike most of the gentlemen who crowded about her almost wherever she went, he did not ply her constantly with compliments and meaningless gallantries. With him she did not feel the constant necessity to smile dazzlingly and to flutter her fan.
Smiles seemed to come easily to Sir Henry Verney, as if they were his natural expression. Looking at his wide-spaced gray eyes, she thought that before many more years had passed, he would have permanent wrinkles at their outer corners. But they would be attractive. They would be laugh lines. He was an attractive man, large and solid, with a pleasant face. He was a man to be comfortable with. A man to trust, she thought, though she did not know him at all.
“’Tis hot in the ballroom,” he said, “and you have been dancing. Would you care for a stroll outdoors, Lady Emily? The garden is lighted and there are other people there. I have Lady Sterne’s permission to take you strolling—if ’tis what you wish.”
He was making sure that she would not feel uneasy about agreeing to something that sounded so heavenly, Emily reflected. He had even spoken with Aunt Marjorie. She smiled and nodded and set her arm along his very solid one. She would be glad to go outside, where it would be darker and less crowded and cooler—and where she would not see Ashley. Her mind and her heart were still in an uncomfortable turmoil after their dance. There had been the wild exhilaration of dancing again, of feeling form and rhythm and movement. And part of the wildness and of the exhilaration had been the sight of Ashley, tall and slender and more than usually elegant in a wine-colored velvet skirted coat with silver embroidered waistcoat and gray knee breeches and sparkling white linen and lace. In addition, his hair was powdered tonight.
She would have suffocated if she had had to remain in the ballroom, she thought.
He lived near Penshurst in Kent, Sir Henry told her as they strolled on the veranda. He lived with his mother and his sister, though he often came to London for a few weeks at a time. His sister liked to shop and visit here and they both enjoyed the entertainments of the Season. He liked to travel more extensively too, he told her as he led her down the steps into the garden, though most of the time now he stayed in the British Isles so that he would not be too far from his mother if she had need of him. He had made the Grand Tour of Europe, of course, as a very young man.
Emily smiled at him and invited him to tell her more. He was not a talkative man. There had been welcome silences between the things he had told her. He seemed to realize that silences were not as awkward to her as they seemed to be to most people, that sometimes she appreciated moments without conversation so that she could turn her head from looking at her companion’s lips in order to look about her and relax. The garden was pretty, its trees and lawns intersected with several paths, all converging on a central fountain which spouted water that looked multicolored in the light of the lanterns.
They arrived at the fountain and stood gazing into the spray for a whole minute. Emily could smell the water. Although none of the spray touched her, she could feel the dampness and knew that the merest breath of a breeze could send droplets against her face and hands. She half closed her eyes and saw the lantern light filtered through a million drops of water. She could almost imagine herself back in the country. But Sir Henry leaned slightly toward her and she turned her eyes to his lips.
“I always think there is no sound more soothing than that of flowing water,” he said.
She smiled, allowing amusement to show in her face.
“Zounds. Pardon me,” he said, looking stricken. “That was unbelievably tactless of me.”
But she laughed and pointed to her eyes. She indicated her nose and breathed in, and rubbed her fingertips over her thumbs.
“You use your other senses and find them just as soothing,” he said. “And I am forgiven, Lady Emily?”
She shrugged her shoulders and smiled as she nodded, to indicate that there was nothing to forgive. The ballroom had become uncomfortable with the heat of so many people. She had felt the discomfort. Did it also become uncomfortable with the noise of so many people? she wondered. If so, then she had been spared that annoyance. She set her arm along Sir Henry’s again so that they might resume their stroll.
But before they could do so, before she could turn her head to concentrate on his account of his Grand Tour, she had that familiar feeling again. He was close by. Closer than the ballroom or even the veranda. Her eyes found him standing some distance away, slightly to one side of the foot of the steps down into the garden. He was alone. Why had he come? she wondered. Was he merely hot and in need of air? Lonely? Unhappy?
But her partner had been about to speak. She turned her head and her attention determinedly toward him.
“I was away from England for longer than a year,” Sir Henry said, “completing my education. That is the polite way of saying that I enjoyed myself enormously, Lady Emily, doing all that was wild and extravagant. But perhaps I was learning too. ’Tis through wildness and extravagance that we learn the value of steadiness and moderation, I often believe. Are you sure you wish me to bore you with the tale of my adventures?”
She nodded, but she laughed to tell him that it would be no bore. He must have been to Paris, where Luke had lived for ten years. He must have been to Italy and seen all the riches of architecture and painting and sculpture, and to Switzerland and seen the mountains and the lakes. He must have been... She did not know of any other places. She knew so little.
She watched his lips intently and lived his experiences in her imagination. And yet all the time she knew that Ashley was not leaving the garden. He stayed at the foot of the steps for a while and then strolled the paths. He stood at the fountain, leaning back against the stone wall that surrounded it. He watched them. She was sure he was watching them, though he did not come close or so much as lift a hand in greeting.
“Ah,” Sir Henry said at last, raising one hand and cocking his head in a listening gesture, “the music draws to an end. ’Tis the end of the set and I must return you to the ballroom. You are an excellent listener, Lady Emily.” This time he did not apologize, though he did wince when he realized what he had said. He laughed, and Emily joined him. “I have enjoyed our half hour together. Perhaps we may repeat it some time?”
She nodded as he led her to the steps and up onto the veranda and into the ballroom. She did not turn her head. She did not need to. She knew that Ashley had remained at the fountain.
•••
Therehad been nothing to worry about. Not as far as Emmy’s physical safety was concerned anyway. But Verney had touched her, taking her arm along his. He had bent his head toward her as they walked. He had talked to her, smiled at her, laughed with her. She had given him her attention, her smiles. She had looked as if she enjoyed his company, as if she understood what he said.
And all the time Ashley had visualized him with Alice. Seduction? Rape? Had it been that? No, hardly. She had loved him, been obsessed with him. He would have used that smiling charm he was now using with Emmy. In order to win her love, in order to seduce her. He had had all the time in the world—they had been neighbors all their lives. And then he had abandoned her, the daughter of his neighbor, sister of the man he had called friend. And that friend had died in circumstances that were mysterious if not downright suspicious. Had there been a confrontation after the other hunters had dispersed that morning?
Ashley watched them return to the ballroom when the interminable set finally came to an end. He dropped his head and closed his eyes. If Verney was going to start taking an interest in Emmy, then there was another reason to—
A sudden crunching of gravel caused him to lift his head to see who was approaching.
“I feel compelled to ask,” Sir Henry Verney said to him, “though perhaps it is impolitic to do so—was I being watched during the past half hour?”
