Page 62 of Mr. Eastwood’s Match

He gave a stiff nod, touched his wife’s shoulder briefly, and left.

The ladies wasted no time in getting Emily out of her night things and into a comfortable day dress. It was not the stunning gown she would prefer to greet the news of an engagement in, but given the circumstances, speed was a higher priority than her appearance.

“What did Jack mean,” she said as Juniper fastened her gown at the back, “that this is not what they decided upon? They, who? You? Him? The other men?”

“Lord Hartwell, Mr. Eastwood, and your brother spoke at length last evening,” Juniper explained as she finished tying up the ribbons at the back of the gown. Then she gestured for Emily to sit. They needed to put her hair up. “They were concerned about your reputation. I was only told this before the garden party, but they decided amongst themselves that Lord Hartwell would marry you to preserve your honor. Really, I should not tell you more. But I do think things have worked out better than one could expect.” Juniper pulled pieces of Emily’s braided hair this way and that, until it looked less like she’d slept in it and more like it was a deliberate style for an afternoon at home. “That is the best we can do for haste.”

Standing, Emily smoothed her gown and went toward the door, but Juniper hurried to catch her with a hand on her arm.

“Listen to me carefully, Emily. Before you go in there to speak to Mr. Eastwood.”

Turning, Emily looked into her sister-in-law’s eyes. “I truly hope you are about to impart something miraculous to me, Juniper. I cannot tell you how addled my mind is, and I feel as though I am being tossed about in the wind.”

Without hesitation, Juniper folded Emily up in her arms, embracing her with a gentleness that made tears prickle at Emily’s eyes.

“If I could undo everything that happened last evening, I might well try. But we are here now, and the most important thing for you to remember, my dear, is that we love you. Your family. Your brother. Me. You did nothing wrong, and we know that. My advice to you now is that you listen to what Mr. Eastwood has to say, and then you decide what it is you want. Please. Do not think of anything other than your future happiness. If you cannot bear to think of the future he offers, then tell me so. We will find another way.”

Even as Juniper’s embrace bolstered Emily’s spirits, her words did not pierce her certainty that things were moving out of her control. What would her parents say when they heard of the rumors? Of a hasty engagement? It would be terrible. They would be disappointed in her, and those who said their family did not yet belong in Society would be justified.

“Everything will be all right,” Emily said quietly, and hoped she told the truth. She parted from her sister-in-law with a weary little laugh. “My head may be spinning at this moment, but what a thing, to become engaged while one is sleeping.” She turned and opened the door before Juniper commented, then hurried down the stairs to the sitting room where Mr. Eastwood waited.

When she opened the door, she expected to see Jack standing inside the room with him. But Lyness Eastwood was all alone, standing near Miss Feathersby’s cage, facing the door. He appeared pale and uncertain, but braced in that quiet, determined way she had come to admire. He bowed quickly to her, too quickly, as though he had forgotten how to manage it with grace. The little bird in her cage hopped back a touch, wings fluttering.

“Lady Emily,” he said, voice rough.

Emily’s heart clenched.

Lyness stepped forward, stopping a respectful distance from where she stood near the door. His expression was earnest. Certainly, he seemed more intense than she had ever seen him. His dark eyes kept hold of her gaze, and he spoke slowly and steadily as he said, “First, I must beg your forgiveness.”

For a moment, she stared at him, uncomprehending. She had not expected that to be the first thing he said. “Must you, Mr. Eastwood? I was told you had something to explain to me. Perhaps you ought to do that, and then you may beg. If necessary.”

That made his lips curl upward a moment, then he shook his head. “It will be necessary. I never meant to take a decision from you. Nor did I wish to put you in a position you did not choose.”

“But you did take a choice from me,” Emily said, quiet but steady. Somewhat impatient. “You made a decision about my future that I should have been involved in. My brother informed me that you declared us engaged. In public.”

He swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Why?”

His breath came out in a humorless laugh, on a strange sort of exhale. “Because the rumors were already forming. And they were…ugly. You were being spoken of as th-though—” He stopped, lips pressing closed for a moment. He took in a slow breath and let it out again, more composed. “As though you were compromised. Or worse, that Roman had behaved dishonorably toward you. I could not let that notion stand.”

“Why you?” Emily whispered. “Why not let Lord Hartwell make the declaration, if he was the one people saw?”

“Because,” he said softly, “I would rather the world believe you were promised to me than watch you be sacrificed to duty alone.”

Something in her chest twisted painfully.

His voice lowered, he stepped closer as though he could not help himself. “I will withdraw if you command it…but I hope you will not.”

Emily’s lips parted.

He continued, halting slightly as the words tripped over the edge of his stutter. “I have admired you since the first moment we danced in London. Long before last night. Before any of this, and I cannot deny that truth now. Not when your future happiness and my own hangs in the balance.”

A warmth rose beneath her skin, a flush that did not come from fever or laudanum. It sounded like the beginning of a marvelous declaration. The sort she had not dared to hope for. Still, she had to point out, somewhat practically, “But we barely know one another.”

“That is true.” His tone held no defense. Only sincerity. “But what I do know of you has stayed with me. You are thoughtful. And compassionate. And far kinder than most of Society deserves. You do not hide who you are when someone needs your care. And I…” His voice faltered. “I am your friend, am I not?”

Emily pressed her fingertips to her lips, her eyes stinging. “But you never seemed to want anything more than friendship. And your brother⁠—.”