Chapter Three, Part One - Courtship, Correspondence, Carriage Rides.

Emilia was feeling increasingly isolated at Willowsea.

Watching Rosamond and the Marquess court was hitting her heavily, having the thought in the back of her mind that she was going to lose Rosa so soon after Lydia... it wasn't conducive to her own happiness.

For the happiness of Rosa though, Emilia thought she may be able to withstand almost anything in truth.

So when her mother continually requested that she chaperon the courting couple, Emilia did her utmost to give them as much privacy as allowed in order to encourage the formal engagement.

Emilia had begun thinking that the Marquess was quite the coward for he had indeed had many opportunities to “pop the question” to Rosa; Emilia had made certain that he had.

She thought back to just last Thursday, when she had directed the couple to the walk through the Orchard Grove. No more romantic place could be found on her father's estate!

Still, the engagement seemed to remain elusive.

Emilia knew that her sister was becoming worried about the situation, not helped by their mother's counselling for Rosa on how best to get a man to propose.

A more uncomfortable morning had not been spent in the drawing room at Willowsea.

Emilia believed she could have gone her whole life without hearing her mother talk about the dampening of gowns and the application of rouge to lure a beau into the matrimonial sphere.

All in all it had been a frustrating three months since Lydia had left.

Lydia had always been able to reign in their mother when she became too overbearing.

Lydia who had always been a source of sense, the only one their mother would even listen to, was unable to help them now.

The situation was made all the worse by the constant stream of well-wishers and rogues who were hoping to take advantage of Lydia's elevation to titled lady.

Laurent Haynes had stayed behind after the wedding, apparently on work for the Crown.
His regiment, he said, was scouting for a new location to retire to for exercises and society.

  

The first time Emilia had come across Mr. Haynes in town she felt obliged to issue an invitation to dinner, after all he was very almost her brother now, was he not?

It was then with reluctance she had done so on the third, fourth and fifth times she had occasion to meet with him in town again.

After the sixth and seventh time he had claimed to have spotted her from across the square, Emilia had decided to no longer invite him and propriety be damned for it.

It was all too convenient for her tastes.

There were whispers of his owing tradesmen money, and having two or sometimes three “family dinners” at Willowsea each week was probably just padding his purse for drink or gaming Emilia supposed.

Emilia had explained as much to her father who had then had a discussion with Mr. Haynes on the subject and had found him wanting in some manner.

 

Watching him leave after what sounded like a thorough dressing down at least afforded Emilia some small pleasure despite the other circumstances.

It was also with great pleasure that she took to her correspondence with a passion never before seen in her.

She knew she was probably costing Beacon a fortune in postage, sending such long letters to Lydia.

Her father had even complained, albeit jokingly, about the prohibitive cost of her paper, pens and ink.

But the letters were Emilia's salvation. She had never been the type of silly girl to live for news of the frivolities of Simdon, for the lace on the dress of Miss So-And-So, for the little tidbits of life in the Tonne, but she was enjoying hearing her sister write about those things.

For as Lydia said, there was little else to do there at this time of year, and even less to do in Simbury.

This, Lydia said, combined with sympathy for Emilia's situation had forced her hand in issuing an invitation to the middle sister.

Dearest Emilia, she had written.

I so long for some company, someone who isn't a daughter of an Simmack's patron that I have to impress or the wife of Beacon's neighbour who I have to host, despite her vulgarity.

Pray,visit when you can!

Emilia presented it to her mother as a duty, and if she perhaps hinted that Lydia may soon be in need of a sister for a more confining reason... Well that was all in the name of Lydia's happiness, truly.

 

It was fortuitous timing in the end, as the family had been invited to the chief Darley estate, Fleckcroft, for the Christmas holidays.

So while Emilia would be enjoying her time in Simdon, her family would be distracted with the Darleys.

Mrs. Wharburton had done naught but complain of the matter, despite it being her sister's family.

“But my dear Mr. Wharburton, what shall everyone think?”

Mr. Wharburton opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by his wife's exclamations.

“I shall tell you what they will think! They will think we condone his actions,” she complained loudly.

“We shall not be received anywhere in Simbury after this, sir!”
 

Mr. Wharburton turned to his wife with an exasperated look on his face before standing up.

 

“The fact of the matter is ma'am that I do condone Darley's actions. The woman was a snake and he was right to divorce her. He and Penelope are much better off without her in their lives.”

Emilia was quite sick of hearing about the entire situation. She empathised for poor Warren, and dear Penelope.

It had cause quite a scandal not six months ago when Warren Harper, the current Lord Darley, had divorced his society wife.

 

She had brought much to the marriage.

Her dowry of 50,000 pounds was no small addition to the coffers of the Darley title, but with this she had also added her acerbic wit and absolute disdain for anyone she viewed as beneath her.

Caroline had been so sure that Penelope would be a boy that she had refused to entertain Warren in her bedchambers ever again.

When Penelope had been born, she had been disappointed but had not taken back her refusal.

Warren had not insisted on his conjugal rights, having been too wrapped up in Penelope.

In the end, when Caroline fell pregnant after many months of refusing to share his bed, Lord Darley had also not wanted to out her to society, feeling that even with her transgressions he had at one time felt in love with her.

Emilia did not know where Caroline had gotten herself off to, but had heard tell she was now a kept woman in Simdon, entertaining her beaux as a respectable mistress on Simvenor square or some such.

The whole situation not being known, Lord Darley had been scorned by the matrons of the tonne and had been told in no uncertain terms that he would not be welcome in any club, in any ball, in any dinner party thrown by anybody respectable.

 

These thoughts occupied Emilia's mind the entire trip to Simdon.

One day late as she was, one of the leading horses having thrown a shoe halfway through the journey and with no horses being available at the closest inn.

Emilia had spent a long, sleepless night on the uncomfortable inn bed and was looking forward to a good night's sleep in Lydia's guest suite.

When the carriage pulled up in front of Lydia and Beacon's house in town, Emilia all but fell out of the carriage into her sister's arms.

“Oh Emilia, I hope you will not feel too tired for our dinner tonight.”

Emilia looked at her sister in askance.

“We had planned a quiet family dinner for your arrival yesterday, and a larger dinner party for today.”

Emilia rallied her spirits and replied to her sister,

“I believe I have the fortitude to stand up to a mere dinner party, sister.”

Lydia smirked at her sister before asking lightly,

“Even one with the Duke of Simmendish?”

Emilia's smile dropped.

“The Duke?”

“He is one of Beacon's greatest friends, Emilia. I could not exactly exclude him from the invitation.”

Emilia sighed. She could not let Lydia look bad in front of all Beacon's friends because of some silly man.
She collected herself before replying to her sister.

“Well, if we are to entertain a Duke I certainly can't be seen covered in dust from the road and with my hair so blowsy!”

 

Lydia smiled at her sister's playfulness before showing her into the house.



"I'm so glad you're here Emmy."

"Me too."