“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.”
Oooo secrets told will out. But who is this nasty friend who's telling the stories to the gossip rags?
ReplyDeleteAll shall be revealed :D
ReplyDelete