Too dispirited to join in any card games or attend one of the soirees or musicals to which he had been invited, he returned home. He had done his duty, their reputations were safe. No wedding date had been set, but knowing the earl, it would be sooner rather than later. He scowled as he contemplated his future tied to a young woman with no sense of decorum and a figure like a boy's. She did have lovely eyes and a fine head of hair, but setting up his nursery with such a female did not fill him with enthusiasm.
The next morning he reported to his office at Home Guards and discovered he was required to leave immediately for Belgium. Napoleon had escaped from Elba and was already in Paris, gathering loyal troops as fast as a dog found fleas. Wellington required his immediate services. He caught the next packet to Calais and was safely established on the Duke's staff within less than a week. All thoughts of Emily and their engagement were forgotten in the excitement of preparing for the inevitable battle with the French.
Meanwhile, at Westerham, Lady Althea slowly recovered both her looks and her spirits, even her straggly hair regained its lustre with the judicious use of henna. Emily rode out every day, sometimes with her sisters, sometimes accompanied only by a groom. She got to know her grandfather and finally forgave him for his neglect.
The ring, which had once been her grandmother's, remained unworn on her dresser. When the day came for their departure to London she had all but forgotten that she was engaged. Apart from the arrival of this token, with a brief note, they had received no communication from Viscount Yardley, which bothered her not one jot.
Chapter Eight
The Earl of Westerham asked Emily to visit him privately on the morning scheduled for their departure.
“Sit down, my dear; I am going to miss your company whilst you are in Town. Do not stop away too long.”
“We intend to return for the Yuletide festivities so it will be but five weeks we are absent.”
“Excellent; I have something special planned for you all. I am intending to hold a New Year's masquerade; Serena and Amelia will love it.”
“Will it not be too dark and dangerous for people to travel to Westerham, grandfather?”
He chuckled at her ignorance. “Good heavens, my dear, my guests will already be here. I have invited fifty people to stay. The ball will be to celebrate your forthcoming nuptials.” Emily shivered. “I have noticed Emily, that you do not wear your betrothal ring. Is it a poor fit?”
She blushed. “No, grandfather. It is remiss of me but I do not, as a rule, where any jewellery. I am always afraid I will lose it. But I promise I shall put it on immediately.”
“Good girl; people will think it odd of you if you do not display it proudly. I believe Yardley will be returning soon; it is high time you spent some time together.”
“I am looking forward to it,” she lied. She stood up and came across to kiss her benefactor farewell. “I am going to miss you, Grandfather. You must take care of yourself whilst we are gone.”
He patted her cheek affectionately. “I will, minx. And you enjoy yourself; attend as many parties and gatherings as you can, make some new friends. I have given Althea some extra cards so if there are any you wish to add to the house party, you will be free to do so.”
“Thank you; I must go, the carriage is waiting. I must not keep the horses standing, it is cold this morning.”
The Gibson family made good time and arrived at Lessing House by mid-afternoon. There was still sufficient daylight for the girls to exclaim in delight at the place in which they were to reside for the next five weeks. Millie stood on the freshly washed pavement and stared up.
“There are four floors. It takes up quite half the block.” She gazed around the select square on which the house was situated. “It is almost twice the size of all the other dwellings.”
“It is, my love. And it is as luxuriously appointed as Westerham. We will want for nothing, I promise you.”
“May I play in a little garden in the centre, Mama? It has a lawn and flowerbeds and there are statues of ladies in it,” Serena asked.
“I am sure Mary will take you when the weather is fine, if Miss Quenby gives you leave.”
The governess, a sprightly, middle-aged lady of superior knowledge and impeccable references, nodded and smiled. “Your mornings will still be spent on your books, Miss Serena, but I think the afternoons can be given over to visits and excursions. After all this is your first time in our capital city. I am sure Lady Althea wishes you to see as much of it is possible.”
“Indeed I do, Miss Quenby. Miss Gibson and I will be out a deal of the time so I am trusting you to plan a suitable itinerary for my youngest daughters.”
“Miss Quenby has promised she will take us to the Tower and the Vauxhall Gardens. I am so pleased to be here, Mama, I think I might burst.”
“I do hope not, Miss Serena, it would make such a mess on this clean pavement.” Miss Quenby replied smiling.
The London butler, Digby, from his vantage point at the head of the steps, viewed the laughing group with disfavour.
Emily noticed the front door was open and bright candlelight spilling out. “Come along, everyone, I think we should go in.” She noticed the look on the butler's face and realized they had been making a spectacle of themselves, gawping like villagers at a fair.
Digby showed them in and introduced the rest of the staff to Lady Althea. Then they were conducted to their apartments at the far side of the spacious building. In every room welcoming fires burnt merrily and candelabrum glowed with expensive beeswax candles. The youngest girls had been put, with Miss Quenby and Mary, on the attic floor in the nursery wing. They were not impressed.
“Why do we have to be up here? It's cold and dark. Grandfather does not make us sleep in the nurseries.” Serena said crossly.
“Indeed he does not, my loves. Nor shall you this visit.” Lady Althea turned to the housekeeper. “Miss Amelia and Miss Serena will have rooms next to Miss Gibson. And you will find a more comfortable chamber for Miss Quenby.”
“Yes, my lady. I'm sorry, my lady, but Mr Digby believes that children belong in the nursery, not on the second floor.”
Lady Althea smiled. “I quite understand. Mary you can remain up here, Jenny and Edwards can join you. When you have fires burning it will be quite cosy.”
The girls’ belongings were packed and transported back downstairs. It was full dark by the time the party was settled to everyone's satisfaction. After a light supper, served in a pretty withdrawing-room on the first floor, the girls were so tired they went to bed without demure, leaving Emily and her mother alone.
“I think I am going to retire also, my dear, I am fatigued after the journey.” Emily rang the bell and a parlour maid appeared to escort her mother to her rooms.
“I am going to explore for a while. I want to discover the whereabouts of the library and the study. Miss Quenby wishes to use one of them for her lessons.” Emily waited for the young maid to return to guide her downstairs. “Are the rooms on the ground floor not open, Beth?” She asked the girl on the way down the richly carpeted stairs.
“They are, Miss Gibson; but they're for Viscount Yardley's use.” The girl grinned. “You're coming has fair put old Digby out of sorts, I can tell you, miss. He cannot abide either women or children. I am up from Westerham, same as you; all female staff are, including Mrs Lawford. She is under housekeeper back there.” The girl halted in front of a stout door. “This is the library, Miss Gibson. Shall I show you the study too?”
“Yes, please do. Why are there are no flowers anywhere?”
Beth giggled. “Old sour face can't abide flowers neither. Shall I send out for some tomorrow, Miss Gibson?”
