Chapter Five
Emma sat before her dressing table, watching in the mirror as her maid arranged her hair for dinner. The afternoon’s events kept replaying in her mind - the warmth in Lord Limnwood’s eyes as they danced, the gentle touch of his fingers against her cheek, the way that the afternoon sun had caught golden glints in his dark hair...
“Ouch!”
She flinched as the maid caught a tangle.
“So sorry, Miss!”
The girl’s fingers gentled immediately.
A tap at the door preceded Lady Beatrice’s entrance.
“Are you nearly ready? I simply must speak with you before dinner.”
“Nearly done, my Lady,” the maid assured her.
Emma studied her friend’s reflection in the mirror. Lady Beatrice fairly vibrated with barely contained excitement.
“There now, Miss.” The maid stepped back. “Will there be anything else?”
“No, thank you, Susan. That will be all.”
The moment the door closed behind the maid, Lady Beatrice dropped onto the bed.
“Emma, you cannot possibly mean to pretend that nothing happened in the music room!”
“Nothing did happen.”
Emma smoothed her skirts, avoiding her friend’s eyes.
“Only because I interrupted! Though I still feel terrible about that. If I had known...”
“Known what? That I was about to do something completely improper with a man who thoroughly disapproves of any breach of proper behaviour?” Emma’s laugh held no humour. “Perhaps your interruption was for the best.”
“But the way he looked at you...” Lady Beatrice leaned forward. “Emma, I’ve never seen Lord Limnwood look at anyone that way. And during the waltz! Even Lady Anne noticed how well you moved together.”
“Lady Anne notices everything that might be turned to her advantage.” Emma couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from her voice. “No doubt she’s already planning how to use this afternoon’s events to demonstrate my unsuitability for proper society.”
“Do you care what she thinks?”
“No. But...” Emma’s hands twisted in her lap. “He does. You’ve seen how rigid he is about propriety. Today was... a moment of weakness, nothing more.”
“Was it?” Lady Beatrice’s voice gentled. “Or was it the first time that he let himself show what he truly feels?”
Emma’s breath caught. Before she could respond, another tap at the door heralded Lady Agatha’s arrival.
“Are you girls ready for...” She broke off, studying their faces. “What has happened?”
“Nothing, Aunt.” Emma tried to smile. “We were just discussing the dancing lesson.”
“Indeed.” Lady Agatha’s shrewd eyes missed nothing. “Lady Beatrice, might I have a moment alone with my niece?”
Lady Beatrice rose immediately.
“Of course. I’ll see you both at dinner.”
The moment the door closed, Lady Agatha sat in the chair beside Emma’s dressing table.
“Now then. Tell me what truly occurred this afternoon.”
Emma’s hands clenched in her lap.
“Nothing improper, I assure you.”
“But something that has you thoroughly unsettled.” Lady Agatha reached out to cover Emma’s hands with her own. “My dear, I have watched you these past few days. The way that Lord Limnwood looks at you... and the way you look at him.”
“It doesn’t matter how we look at each other.” Emma’s voice wavered slightly. “He values propriety above all else, and I... I cannot seem to meet his standards.”
“Cannot? Or choose not to?” Her aunt’s voice held no censure, only genuine curiosity. “There is a difference, you know.”
Emma looked up, startled.
“I...”
“You have always had a generous heart, Emma. It is not in your nature to stand on ceremony when kindness calls. That is not a fault, whatever some might think.”
“Lord Limnwood thinks it is.”
“Does he? Or does he fear where such generosity of spirit might lead?” Lady Agatha’s eyes grew distant. “Sometimes, my dear, when people are very rigid about proper behaviour, it is because they have seen the consequences of its lack. Or because they fear their own capacity for impropriety.”
Emma’s breath caught as she remembered the unguarded look in Lord Limnwood’s eyes, the way that his hand had trembled slightly against her cheek.
“This afternoon,” she began hesitantly, “in the music room... when we were accidentally alone for a very short time, for a moment, he seemed... different. Less controlled. But then Lady Beatrice came in, and he...” She gestured helplessly. “It was as if a wall came down between us.”
“Ah.” Lady Agatha squeezed her hands gently. “And now you wonder which is the true man? The one who maintains perfect propriety, or the one who looked at you with his heart in his eyes?”
“How did you...”
“My dear, I have been watching young people fall in love for many years now.”
“Love?” Emma’s voice rose sharply. “No, that’s not... we barely know each other!”
“Don’t you? You’ve spent nearly every moment of the past three days together. You’ve argued, danced, collaborated on poetry... and I suspect you’ve seen sides of each other that you show to very few others.”
Emma stared at her aunt, mind whirling.
“But he’s so... and I’m not... we’re completely unsuited!”
“Are you? Or do you perhaps balance each other perfectly?” Lady Agatha rose, smoothing her skirts. “Something to consider, my dear. Now, shall we go down? The dinner gong will ring at any moment.”
Emma followed her aunt from the room, her thoughts in chaos. Love? Surely not. Attraction, yes. Fascination, certainly. But love?
Yet as they descended the stairs, her heart gave a treacherous leap at the sight of Lord Limnwood in the hall below. Their eyes met for a brief moment before both looked away.
Heaven help her, but her aunt might be right after all.
*****
Nathaniel stood at the library window, a glass of brandy untouched in his hand. The setting sun painted the gardens in shades of gold and crimson, reminding him inexorably of the way that the afternoon light had caught in Emma’s hair. He closed his eyes, but that only made the memory of her closeness in the music room more vivid.
“Hiding, brother?”
He didn’t turn at James’ voice.
“Merely seeking a moment of quiet.”
“Ah yes. Quiet. Something distinctly lacking in the drawing room at present, what with Lady Anne holding forth about proper behaviour at house parties.” James’ tone held clear disdain. “Though I notice that Miss Everton isn’t present either.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Hadn’t you? Just as you haven’t noticed how your eyes follow her whenever she’s in the room? Or how your expression changes when someone merely speaks her name?”
Nathaniel’s hand tightened on his glass.
“You go too far, James.”
“Do I? Or do I not go far enough?” James crossed to pour himself a drink. “Someone needs to shake you out of this rigid shell you’ve built around yourself.”
“You know why...”
“Yes, yes, because of Charlotte.” James dropped into a chair. “Though I fail to see how our cousin’s scandal has any bearing on Miss Everton.”
“It has every bearing!” The words burst out before Nathaniel could stop them. “You remember what happened. One small breach of propriety led to another, and another, until...”
“Until Charlotte nearly eloped with a fortune hunter who would have ruined her.” James’ voice gentled. “But you stopped it. You saved her reputation.”
“Barely. And only because I happened to return from sea at exactly the right moment, three weeks before....” Nathaniel turned from the window at last. “If I hadn’t...”
“But you did. And Charlotte went on to make an excellent marriage to a man who truly loves her.” James leaned forward. “Though I note you’ve never asked yourself why she was so susceptible to that fortune hunter in the first place.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think, brother. Charlotte had been raised exactly as you would wish - every rule followed, every proper form observed. And what did it get her? A heart so starved for real feeling that she mistook the first man to show her warmth for her true love.”
Nathaniel stared at his brother.
“That’s not...”
“Isn’t it? You’re so determined to protect everyone from impropriety that you fail to see the danger in too much propriety.” James set his glass down with unusual force. “And now you’re doing the same thing to yourself. Worse, you’re doing it to Miss Everton.”
“I am protecting her!”
“From what? From feeling? From joy? From love?”
The last word seemed to echo in the quiet room. Nathaniel turned back to the window, but not before James saw his expression.
“Ah.” His brother’s voice softened. “So that’s it. You’re not truly afraid she’ll be improper. You’re afraid of what you feel for her.”
“James...”
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t love her already.”
Nathaniel’s silence was answer enough.
“It doesn’t matter what I feel.” Nathaniel’s voice was barely audible when the words finally came. “I cannot... I will not risk her reputation.”
“By loving her? Or by letting her see that you do?” James rose to stand beside his brother. “Because I rather think that she already knows the first. It’s your denial of it that truly hurts her.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Don’t I? I was there too, remember? I saw what happened with Charlotte. But I also saw what happened after - how she found real happiness once she learned to balance propriety with genuine feeling.” James touched his brother’s shoulder. “The world isn’t divided into proper and improper, Nathaniel. There’s a whole world of possibility between rigid correctness and ruin.”
“And if I cannot find that balance? If I lose control completely?” Nathaniel’s voice roughened. “This afternoon, in the music room...”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. Everything.” Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair. “For a moment, I forgot every rule, every proper consideration. If Lady Beatrice hadn’t come in...”
“You might have kissed her?” James’ voice held no censure. “And would that have been so terrible? A private moment between two people who clearly care for each other?”
“It would have been improper.”
“More improper than denying your feelings until they burst out in some way that you truly cannot control?” James shook his head. “Think about it, brother. And think about this - Miss Everton is nothing like Charlotte. She knows her own mind, and her own heart. Perhaps it’s time you trusted yours as well.”
Before Nathaniel could find words to respond, James squeezed his shoulder once more, then turned as if to leave him alone with his thoughts.
Through the door, Nathaniel could see couples making their way to dinner. He caught a glimpse of dark red hair and pale violet silk – Miss Everton, walking with her aunt.
Even at this distance, something in him responded to her presence. James was right about one thing - he did love her. Heaven help him, but he did. The only question was what he meant to do about it.
“There’s more to the story of Charlotte, isn’t there?” James’ voice pulled Nathaniel from his thoughts. His brother hadn’t left after all, but stood watching him with unusual seriousness.
“You know what happened.”
“I know what everyone knows. That you stopped her from running away with that fortune hunter. But there’s something else, isn’t there? Something that made you take it all so personally?”
Nathaniel stared into his brandy.
“I should have seen it coming. There were signs...”
“Such as?”
“Small things at first. She started meeting him in secret - just for a moment in the garden, she said. Just a brief conversation in the library. Nothing improper.” His laugh held no humour. “Until suddenly it was very improper indeed. Do you know what she said to me, when I caught them about to leave?” James shook his head. “She said that she knew it wasn’t proper, but that she didn’t care. That she would rather have love than propriety.” Nathaniel’s voice roughened. “She had no idea that he didn’t love her at all - that he’d already run through two other women’s fortunes and left them ruined.”
“How did you know?”
“Pure chance. I’d served with someone who knew his history. If I hadn’t...” He broke off. “Charlotte was so innocent. So trusting. She thought that love conquered all - she had no concept of the reality of scandal, of ruin. And I realised then that all of our family’s careful attention to proper behaviour hadn’t actually protected her. It had only made her more vulnerable.”
“So you decided to become the guardian of everyone’s propriety?” James’ voice held understanding rather than censure. “To protect them from themselves?”
“Someone has to maintain standards.”
“But Miss Everton isn’t Charlotte. She’s no naive innocent to be taken in by pretty words and false promises.”
“No.” Nathaniel smiled slightly, remembering Emma’s sharp wit, her clear-eyed understanding of the world. “She sees rather too clearly for that.”
“Exactly. So perhaps it’s time to stop protecting her from imagined dangers and start trusting her judgment? And your own?”
Before Nathaniel could respond, voices in the hall announced the arrival of more guests on their way to dinner.
“Surely he must be here somewhere?” Lady Anne’s voice carried clearly. “Lord Limnwood always seems to seek solitude after any... incident.”
“I’m not certain that we should disturb him.” Lord Radmill’s voice held uncertainty. “After all...”
“Nonsense. He’ll welcome sensible company after this afternoon’s... display.”
Nathaniel saw James’ hands clench.
“Shall I get rid of them for you?”
“No.” Nathaniel straightened his cravat. “I believe it’s time that I stopped hiding in libraries. Though perhaps we might use the other door?”
James grinned.
“Lead on, brother.”
*****
“Emma.” Lady Agatha’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts. They had reached the bottom of the stairs, but her aunt’s hand on her arm held her back from entering the dining room. “There’s something else you should know.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve heard... whispers. About Lord Limnwood’s cousin, Lady Charlotte. It might explain some things about his behaviour.”
Emma’s heart quickened.
“What sort of whispers?”
“A few years ago, before her marriage, she was nearly ruined by an unsuitable attachment. Lord Limnwood himself prevented the scandal - he caught them just before they could elope. The man turned out to be a notorious fortune hunter.”
“How terrible!” Emma’s mind whirled. “No wonder he’s so concerned with propriety.”
“Indeed. Though from what I understand, Lady Charlotte went on to make an excellent marriage. Sometimes what seems like disaster can lead to something better.” Lady Agatha’s shrewd eyes studied Emma’s face. “If one has the courage to keep one’s heart open.”
“Even when it might be broken?”
“Especially then.” Her aunt squeezed her arm gently. “Now, shall we go in? Though perhaps you might wish to repair to the ladies’ retiring room first? You look a touch flushed.”
Emma nodded gratefully and slipped away to the retiring room. Inside, she found Lady Beatrice in close conversation with Lady Mary.
“Oh, Emma!” Lady Beatrice broke off quickly. “We were just...”
“Discussing this afternoon’s events, no doubt.” Emma managed a smile. “You needn’t stop on my account.”
“We were just saying how well you and Lord Limnwood dance together,” Lady Mary offered. “Though Lady Anne seems quite put out about it.”
“Lady Anne seems put out about many things.”
Emma moved to the mirror, pretending to adjust her hair while listening intently.
“She was quite vocal about it in the drawing room earlier,” Lady Mary continued. “Going on about proper behaviour and suitable connections. Though if you ask me, she’s just jealous. Everyone can see how Lord Limnwood looks at you.”
“Mary!” Lady Beatrice protested. “You shouldn’t...”
“Well, it’s true! I’ve never seen him so animated as when he’s arguing with Emma. Even when he’s disapproving, he’s more alive somehow.”
Emma’s hands trembled slightly as she smoothed her skirts.
“Lord Limnwood’s opinions on proper behaviour are quite fixed, I assure you.”
“Are they?” Lady Mary’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Then why did I see him heading for the music room right after you left? And why did Lady Beatrice come back looking so flustered?”
“I... that is...”
Lady Beatrice stammered, her words trailing off. Then the door opened, admitting Lady Anne. The conversation died immediately.
“Ladies.” Lady Anne’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Discussing the afternoon’s entertainment? It was most... instructive, was it not? Though perhaps not in quite the way that Monsieur Girard intended.”
Emma met her eyes in the mirror.
“Indeed. One learns something new every day about people’s true characters.”
Lady Anne’s smile tightened.
“How very true. Though some lessons can be quite costly to learn. Especially for those who aim... above their natural sphere.”
Before Emma could respond, the dinner gong sounded. She turned from the mirror, keeping her expression serene despite her racing heart.
“Shall we go? We wouldn’t want to be improper by being late.”
She swept past Lady Anne, head high.
But inside, her thoughts churned. Everyone had noticed Lord Limnwood’s attention to her - whether with approval or disapproval. There would be no hiding from the consequences now.
The only question was whether those consequences would lead to heartbreak or happiness.