Chapter Four - Of Scandals and Suspicions

“I can't do it Lydia!”

 

Lydia sighed, not for the first time that evening.

“Emi, we are going to the theatre. It is far too late to back out of the engagement now, without causing offence!” 

Emilia pouted and threw up her arms.

 

“I have nothing to wear at all! I should have had a new dress made up for me. Oh, Lyds, tell him I am indisposed?”

Lydia took a seat on the soft, blue chair that sat with the desk in the guest suite before calmly regarding her sister.

 

“You may borrow something of mine if you wish,” Lydia offered.

Emilia turned to her sister and sent her a scandalised look.

 

“It is all blue! I look a fright in blue.”

Emilia faced her wardrobe once again as Lydia fought down her laughter.

“I suppose I shall just have to let the Duke know you simply could not find something impressive enough to wear... shame," Lydia said, standing up and serenely regarding her nails.

 

Emilia regarded her sister coldly.

 

“Please inform his Grace and Beacon that I shall be down directly,” she replied haughtily, before grabbing the first evening dress she could find.

 

After having her hair styled and her toilette finished, Emilia made it downstairs exceedingly quickly.

She was only able to give the Duke a quick glance before being ushered into his equipage, owing to the fact that she had delayed them.

 

Amid the flurry of carriages around the theater and the people heading into Her Majesty's, there was little opportunity for conversation or niceties; a circumstance that Emilia lamented.

As the group made their way past the tables laden with petit four and pastries, the innumerable bottles of wine and champagne, and the boisterous theater-goers Emilia noticed many an eye turning in her direction.

It was startling to note that the crowd of matrons and young women was rife with looks of disdain, and Emilia found herself moving closer to the Duke as though he was her personal shield.

 

The Duke seemed to notice Emilia's distress and shot a small smile down at her before taking her hand and placing it in his arm, smirking down at the ladies.

The group made their way up the stone staircase towards the private boxes just as the bell rang to signify the first act beginning, and took their seats. Lydia and Beacon watched as Emilia and the Duke appeared to be in deep conversation.

 

Their conversation continued in the quiet darkness of the Duke's private box right up until the first actor came on stage.

The play was everything Emilia had hoped it would be.

The actors were talented and engaging, the scenery was gorgeously painted, and the whole night had a hint of magic in the air.

They had left the private box at the end of the first act to go and get refreshments and, once they stepped foot into the foyer, had found themselves bombarded with “friends” of the families.

Both the Duke and Beacon had been forced into making introductions, everyone eager to reaffirm acquaintance with Beacon's new wife and her sister.

The Duke, it seems, found himself quite bored with the constant fawning and instead had engaged Emilia in conversation about the performance. 

“It is quite the show tonight, is it not Miss Wharburton?”

 

“Indeed, Your Grace. I have not ever been so captivated by one such. It is a rare treat for myself, you see.”

“You do not attend the traveling shows in the summer? I had thought they came quite regularly to Simbury?”

Emilia nodded her head in acquiescence.

“They do, Sir, but I am so often otherwise engaged. I suppose now that Lydia has left, when Rosa leaves as well I may do as I please!”

The Duke afforded Emilia with one of his rare, blinding smiles.

“There is a troupe that always comes through Simwell, they come right past River Simwent.”

“Indeed Sir?” Questioned Emilia.

“I have, on more than one occasion, had the chance to engage their services at Simsworth House for a summer house party.”

Emilia was confused. Whatever was the man getting at?

“Perhaps, were I to have another party this summer and engage... their services you would accept an invitation?”

 

Emilia startled a bit before opening her mouth to reply, but the Duke continued on.

“I have already invited your sister and Beacon. Miss Rosa and the Marquess of Simmington have also both been invited - as well as your friend, his sister.”

He had obviously taken care to ensure her great comfort.

“I would certainly be delighted, Your Grace.”

 

Before any plans could be set in stone, the bell rung for the second act and the group once more made their way into the private box.

Once the play had ended and the group made their way in the Duke's equipage down the winding, stone streets towards Beacon House. 

Lydia and Beacon alighted from the carriage firstly with Beacon handing down his lovely wife. Emilia smiled and said her goodbyes the Duke, these past few weeks had given her the opportunity to get to know his character more. She was elated to discover a wry sort of humor in him, impeccable sense, and, of course, his manner to her was most engaging and attentive.

She had come to think that perhaps this was a man she could marry and, though undecided as yet, were he to propose to her in a few months time she would likely have a positive answer for him.

 

Emilia felt as though she were floating up the stairs and into the house, she had not had such a good time in as many months and what a joy it was to have an evening spent at the theatre.

Sleep did not come easy to her that night. She spent her time daydreaming about the Duke. Perhaps he would propose in the summertime at the house party? The winter and the Season were coming to a close so his party would be mere months away. Did she truly believe herself to have such tender regard for the man so quickly?

Emilia was acting like a lovesick heroine from one of her novels she supposed.

But in truth, she found that she minded that little.

 

When sleep finally did take her, Emilia dreamt of smiles and stubble and summer house parties that she may, the year after, host.

Emilia made her way out of the guest suite and headed downstairs for a light repast.

She was stopped in the foyer by her sister, a worried look marring Lydia's face.

“Whatever is the matter Lydia? You look quite distressed,” She questioned softly.

 

Lydia gestured to the newspaper sitting on the mantelpiece,

“Perhaps you should read page 12, sister.”

Emilia furrowed her eyebrows in bewilderment.

 

“That is the gossip rags, Lydia. You know I have no interest in it. Pray, let us grab some breakfast before we return Lady Cora's visit.”

“Dear sister, I really think you should read page 12.”

 

Emilia picked up the paper hurriedly and not with any small amount of puzzlement.

“If you insist then I shall, but I am not sure what will hold my interest here Lydia.”

Emilia read through the first column.

“We have heard from a very reliable,well known source, that a certain Duke of ____dish has succumbed to the charms of the Earl of ___con's sister in law.

Our source says that they attended the Simspeare show at Her Majesty's last night and were utterly inseparable.

She was seen parading around the room on his arm and he looked “utterly besotted” according to several other sources.

Has our favorite bachelor Duke finally found love?”

“Succumbed to my charms?”

 

“Emilia...”

Emilia interrupted her sister angrily.

 

“They cannot do this! They cannot print such slander!”

Lydia winced before advising her sister.

 

“They can and they do. Some jealous lady has just gotten her nose out of joint because you were on the Duke's arm all night.”

“Oh, Lydia!”

Lydia put her hand delicately on her sister's shoulder.

“We will weather this, together. Next week they will find something else to gossip and speculate on, and you and his Grace can move on with your courtship.”

Emilia smiled sadly.

“I don't think we will be able to be seen with each other until this has blown over, Lyddie.”

“Don't you let this get in your way! The Duke has already left his card this morning, he intends to call this afternoon!” Lydia responded angrily.

Emilia grimaced and gathered her strength.

“That simply won't do. What if someone else comes to call and sees us together? Again! I am indisposed today Lydia.”

 

“But I-” Lydia starts to say.

“I care not, Lydia.”

Emilia made her way back to her guest suite with a heavy heart.

 

“What must be done, must be done,” she muttered softly to herself.

So it was that Emilia did not receive the Duke that day, nor the next when he once again left his card.

After the third call he must have been suitably snubbed, and Lydia properly subdued as Emilia heard no more on the subject of it.

 

The Scandal Sheets kept on printing stories about Emilia and her Duke, however. The forced absence of her favorite had not stopped the printing press.

One day she had lured him into a secret engagement and the next he had blackmailed her into one.

Still the next day they had a passionate, burning love for each other for many years and were fighting against parental disapproval!

 

Worst still was the day they printed the story about her "jilted ex-lovers".

Somehow they had found out about her engagement to her cousin, Lord Darley. 

While they were not correct on all the particulars, there was a grain of truth there; the engagement having been at the persuasion of her mother and broken off once Darley had realized Emilia was not truly in love with him. He had then found a society wife and gone on to scandalize everyone with their subsequent divorce. 

They also mentioned that she had scorned Trevor Drake just last summer, and that he was nursing a broken heart because of her.

 

Emilia took solace in the fact that Lydia had explained all to the Duke and he had seemed to accept the truth of the matter. He was not under any misapprehension that her heart lay elsewhere and that was a small comfort to her.

Emilia's suspicions on who the source of the gossip were at an all time high the bright Tuesday morning after the theater outing when she once again opened the Scandal Sheets to see her name in ink.

“It seems as we learn more about Miss ____burton, the more we are sure she is not the right pick for our dear Duke!

Our source has told us of an incident pertaining to her youth involving a stable boy, a pond and very little clothing indeed!

Dear Duke, surely you can pick a better wife? I've heard a certain Miss Sharpe is available once again!”

Emilia exploded down the stairs, intent on venting to her sister.

“Lydia!”

Emilia stomped into the dining room.

 

“How can they know? How did they know! No mention that it was the stable boy wearing very little clothing!”

Lydia and Beacon exchanged a glance and knew at once she had seen today's paper. 

 

“It is odd indeed. Father had made sure that nobody found out. The boy was as frightened as if Lucifer himself had come down and warned him not to mention it ever again. I doubt he would have had the courage to sell his story,” Lydia remarked.

Beacon turned back to his correspondence, allowing his wife and sister to have their conversation.

Emilia thought hard about who she had told and remembered a day, not so long before the wedding where she had been telling silly childhood stories.

Lydia apparently remembered too and as recognition started to come over her face, Emilia balked.

 

“No, it simply could not be, Lydia.”

“I think it must...”

“They wouldn't!”

 

Lydia did not look so certain as her sister and once again started to reply when a happy yell from Beacon interrupted her.

“Well my dear ladies,” He said with a smirk. “It seems that the Marquess has finally gathered the courage to ask our sister for her hand.”

 

He sat back with a self satisfied look.

The ladies exclaimed all at once and talk began of getting new bridesmaid dresses, practising new hair arrangements, and the journey to whichever parish would be used for the wedding.

Later on, after the excitement had died down, the two ladies could be found in the music room  discussing the events of the morning.

“But really? You think it was?”

“Emi, I know,” came the reply.

There was a knock at the door.

 

Lydia's favorite footman James came in, bowed and announced:

“A Lady Ginevra Drake, to see you both.”