Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
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.”
The bold statement made her blush, and her lips parted, but she could not think what to say.
As though sensing her sister-in-law’s discomfort, Juniper spoke with more lightness of feeling than her husband had.
“An honorable, steady, reliable man is certainly the sort of things one wants in a husband. But it is not the whole of things. Nor ought it to be, Jack. There is so much more to a happy match than that.”
Jack’s smile returned when he looked at his wife, the expression softer now, and his shoulders rose in a slight shrug. “We must all begin somewhere practical, wife. Mustn’t we?”
“Yes. What every woman wants to hear in regards to a suitor. ‘Practical,’” she said with pursed lips as she lifted her teacup again. “Do you think that is why I fell in love with you, Jack? Practicality?”
That made the man blink, his head tilting back as though startled. “Well. No. I suppose not.”
“No, indeed. It is a good trait in a husband, but hardly the most romantic one to focus on. I favored your intensity, as well as your honor, and your loyalty toward those you love.”
To Emily’s surprise, her brother’s ears turned pink.
“I am certain, er, that the baron—well. He must have other good qualities.”
“Certainly. But Emily must find those for herself. If she even wishes to do so.” Juniper tilted her head toward Emily. “Well? What do you think? Do you wish to go on a tour of York this afternoon? With the baron as your guide?”
Emily looked from Juniper’s raised eyebrows to Jack’s pointed stare. She put the square of paper on the table and lifted her fork to resume eating her now-cold eggs.
She gave the best answer she could. “A ride with Lord Hartwell sounds like a pleasant way to spend the afternoon.” Perhaps she needed to know the baron better to feel as at ease with Roman Eastwood as she was with his younger brother.
He was all the things a respectable man ought to be, and Jack liked him, and her family would benefit from a match with such an established family as the Eastwoods.
A practical marriage would not be the worst future for her. And such a union began with a practical courtship. Not everyone could have a love match, like Jack and Juniper. Even if Emily wanted such a thing, there was no promise of obtaining it.
“Excellent.” Jack’s smile melted into something that looked like relief.
A stone dropped heavily into her stomach. Relief? Was he so eager to see her wed? A glance at Juniper showed her sister-in-law as poised as ever. If only Emily had been born into her position. Then she might have had half of Juniper’s ability to remain calm and graceful no matter her feelings.
“I will write to Hartwell at once and let him know you have accepted his invitation,” Jack added when Emily said nothing, pushing his chair away from the table as he rose. “Half-past two. Do not forget.”
“I do not think I could,” she admitted, that stone in her stomach settling deeper.
At the appointed time, she stood on the steps of her brother’s cottage, next to Juniper, waiting for the baron to arrive in his gig.
“Your brother means well,” Juniper said, hands folded around her gothic novel.
“He wants you to be safe and looked after by someone he trusts. And, given your family is still finding their footing in Society, he feels it is his responsibility to help you secure a good match. Whether or not you wish for one, at present.”
“I have no objection to marrying. I am five-and-twenty. I do not feel too young to know my own mind, nor too old. I am not yet on the shelf, as they say.” Emily fidgeted with the strings of her reticule, twisting them around each other rather than leaving it on her wrist. “I want to make Jack and my parents proud. Everyone else in my family is still coping with our elevation in status. If I marry well, it is one less thing for anyone to worry about.”
Juniper’s entire person turned toward her at that, her eyes round. “Dear me. Is that what you think?”
The sound of wheels on gravel grew nearer, and both turned to see the gig coming up the short drive from the road to the cottage.
“He is here,” Emily breathed, absently tying the strings into a knot that would not come undone easily. “I must go.”
“Yes, darling.” Juniper touched her arm, pulling Emily’s attention back to her. “But listen to me, Emily. You should not court or wed anyone if you do not like them, or do not want to. Your happiness matters most of all.”
What could she say as the carriage pulled to a stop?
She nodded and leaned forward, giving Juniper a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you. I will think on that.” Then she went to the gig, where Lord Hartwell waited to help her up, his expression as stoic as always, and he touched the brim of his hat as he nodded to Juniper.
“I will have her back in an hour, my lady.”
“I hope you enjoy yourselves.” Juniper waved empty hand, though her eyes met Emily’s one more time, laden with concern. “It sounds like you will have a most educational drive.”
The gig, open to the air around them, was well sprung.
Taller than she was used to, it gave her a lovely view of the surrounding countryside.
The leather was so polished it shone, and the rest of the vehicle gleamed as though it were new from the maker.
Two horses, matching grays, pulled it. For a moment, she worried he might drive faster than was safe.
Though the model was not as sleek as those she had seen young men racing down the lane, it was frightfully stylish.