Page 27 of Mr. Eastwood’s Match

That brought about more laughter, but the conversation moved along.

Lyness sat quietly, berating himself. He should have acted sooner. But if Roman made known to Lady Emily that he wished to court her, it would be a betrayal for Lyness to ask the same. And Roman needed someone steady and calm, someone kind and thoughtful, as his wife. Lady Emily would certainly suit. And their mother would delight in teaching her how to be a leader in York society.

He had come to the meeting keep his brother company, supportive as always—and would leave with the uncomfortable certainty that he’d lost his own peace in the process.

Chapter Ten

August 14, 1822

Asoft, almost hesitant trill came from the canary, and Emily looked up from her breakfast with a startled gasp. “Did you hear?” she whispered, afraid to startle the bird. “Miss Feathersby. She sang. A little.”

Juniper smiled into her teacup. “Perhaps she is merely adjusting to her new situation. In time, we may have a delightful morning accompaniment to our breakfasts.”

From his seat, Jack looked up at the bird with raised eyebrows. “She is more pleasant than I thought she would be. I caught her watching me as I read yesterday. When I made eye contact, she fluttered as though pleased. I wonder what fool let her free in the ruins.” He shook his head slightly. “It is a good thing you were there, Emily.”

“I agree,” Emily said with perfect satisfaction, then ventured, “And I am glad that Mr. Eastwood happened by with his hat.”

“Indeed.” Juniper lowered her teacup to the table. “A series of fortunate events that ended with a happy addition to our lives. And speaking of the Eastwood family, I think Jack had word from their household this morning.” She raised her eyebrows at her husband. “Or have you already told Emily about the note that arrived?”

Jack reached into his coat to withdraw a folded square of paper. “I nearly forgot. Thank you for the reminder, my love. Emily, this is for you.”

Upon spying the square, Emily’s hopes raised. Had Mr. Eastwood written? Perhaps he had sent her a sample of his calligraphy.

Her brother’s next words dashed that idea quickly.

“It came from Lord Hartwell.”

“Oh.” She accepted the paper from him.

Something of her disappointment must have shown on her face. Before she unfolded the note, Jack said in an earnest, practical sort of way, “He is a sensible fellow, Emily. I have always liked him. He is steady. His life is well-ordered. He commands respect among his peers.”

She unfolded the square without giving more than a nod in response.

“You seem determined to speak in favor of Lord Hartwell,” Juniper said, tone light. “Emily is not in any great hurry to secure suitors, Jack.”

The two continued speaking of her prospects while Emily read the note.

To the Honorable Mr. John Sterling,

If you would grant me the privilege of escorting your sister, Lady Emily, I should like to take her on a drive through York this afternoon. There are many places in this town of historical note and current interest. If Lady Emily is amenable, and with your permission, I will arrive in a gig at half-past two.

Yours in Friendship, etc.,

Roman Eastwood, Baron Hartwell

As she read, her eyes grew wider and her fingers tightened on the paper. Why did the baron want to take her on an outing? What had she done to inspire such an idea? She had behaved with politeness, but she certainly had not offered encouragement. Had she?

Before she could guard against the thought, she wished for a moment that the note had come from Lyness Eastwood instead. A notion she swiftly dismissed.

She folded the paper again and looked up at Jack. “Do you think I ought to go on a ride with him like that? In public? A gig is only built for two riders. There will be no chaperone.”

If she hoped he would disapprove of the outing, that was quickly dashed.

“You will remain in the open air,” Jack noted. “Which is permissible, especially as you are in public, so long as you conduct yourself appropriately. I have never had cause to worry about such a thing with you, Emily.” One of Jack’s rare, though encouraging, smiles appeared. “I think you will enjoy it. No one knows this city so intimately as Hartwell. He is an honorable, steady, reliable man. He has noticed you, too. Which proves he is a man of sense.”

Emily listened dutifully, hands folded, trying to smile at her brother’s compliment. Her mind was torn: she wanted to please Jack but felt nothing when she thought of Roman Eastwood. No spark of curiosity. No niggling interest. He smiled less than Jack, and though she loved her brother dearly, she often wondered what went on his thoughts that kept him from expressing cheer more. Perhaps it was merely habit not to, from his time as a servant.

“I think he will court you in earnest, Emily,” Jack said when she remained silent, his brows drawn together. “If you give him encouragement.”