So he wandered aimlessly around the grounds of the castle, and was quite surprised to run into Emily, on a similar solitary ramble. He asked if he might join her, and she acquiesced, but any harmony between them was quickly squashed when he asked bitterly if he should wish her happy.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You must have realized Sir Marcus would have taken me into his confidence. He told me he was going to propose to you.”
“I see,” Emily replied, but made no other comment.
“Is it to be a secret engagement then?” Alexander asked, wondering why she persisted in torturing him.
“You are mistaken. Sir Marcus did not propose to me.”
“He did not propose? But I was quite sure that was his intention.”
“Oh, I am sure it was, also, but that was before he discovered me to be lacking in delicacy.” Emily looked up at Alexander, the picture of disappointment, but Alexander saw the laughter lurking in her eyes, and he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him, allowing him to breathe freely.
“I am certain he is right, but may I ask how he made such a discovery?”
Emily looked at him in mock reproach. “You gentlemen are quite ungallant, accusing me of such a thing. If you must know, it is because I laughed in the middle of his marriage proposal. No one had ever informed me of the vulgarity of such behavior. I am sure it was not even discussed at the Bellingham Ladies Academy. Now that I am aware of it, however, I will be sure to attend to my next proposal with the gravity of a pallbearer.”
“You may not be the recipient of many more proposals if word gets out of your flighty manner of receiving them.” Alexander said, smiling.
“That is true. However, I am not interested in receiving
Before Alexander could reply to this auspicious remark, they were met by Lydia and Sedgewick, who wished they had jumped into the moat before interrupting such a promising tête-à-tête. However, as Lady Smithfield was ready to return home, they had little choice but to encourage Emily and Alexander to rejoin the rest of the party.
Emily waited in vain for her mother to remark on her rash behavior of the other night. She was quite surprised when, on Wednesday, her mother had still not said anything on the subject. Emily was further surprised to discover that, rather than Lady Smithfield’s being angry with her, she had never been so high in her mother’s esteem. She could not understand why her mother was in such a pleasant mood, particularly as her hopes for Lydia had not been realized.
On Wednesday morning, the day of Lady Abernathy’s ball, Emily was the astonished recipient of a new ball gown. A pretty, pale jonquil silk, with shoes to match. The dress had short, puffed sleeves, and a low, wide neckline, with a darker yellow slip to be worn underneath. Lydia also received a new gown, and both girls accepted the gifts with such exclamations of delight that Lady Smithfield was quite pleased with the success of her surprise.
When the girls came down the stairs that evening, and Lady Smithfield saw them, she felt like she could cry, and it was only the thought of how crying always ruined her complexion that kept any actual tears from falling. Lydia was always beautiful, of course, but tonight she glowed with happiness, and the blue dress her mother had chosen for her perfectly matched her eyes. Emily, too, now that she had attracted the notice of Lord Wesleigh, was seen by her mother in an entirely different light. The looks that had before seemed somewhat common were now quite the opposite, as a gentleman who had withstood all the conventional beauties had been captured by Emily’s unique beauty.
The duke, who had been waiting with their mother at the foot of the stairs, also thought both girls in exceptional looks. “I will be the envy of every gentleman in the room when I enter the ball with such lovely ladies,” he told them. Lady Smithfield felt all the glory of having a ducal escort to the ball, and only wished Sir Marcus could have fit in their carriage as well. However, Sir Marcus, who was avoiding Emily as much as possible since the previous day’s debacle, had already left for the ball.
They were received very graciously at Rothergate, which Lady Smithfield correctly attributed to the presence of the duke in their party. Lord Abernathy, to his wife’s extreme displeasure, complimented Emily and Lydia on their appearance and warned Lady Cynthia, who was also in the receiving line, that she had some fierce competition. Lady Cynthia did not comment, but only looked Emily and Lydia up and down with an expression of disdain, as if to say she was not too worried.
As the Smithfield party was among the last to arrive, the first set of dances was soon forming. Emily, who had danced the first dance with Lord Farnwright, while the duke had danced with Lady Abernathy, was very gratified when the duke led her out for the second dance. She was not as pleased, however, to see Lady Cynthia join their set with Lord Wesleigh, a smug smile on her aristocratic face.
They were soon observed to be flirting outrageously, which Emily tried her best to ignore. The duke, however, could not figure out what his son was doing flirting with that supercilious blond girl. Did he not tell his father only a week ago that he was in love with Emily Smithfield? “I should have drowned him at birth,” the duke muttered under his breath.
Emily, although depressed by Alexander’s attention to Lady Cynthia, thought that he might perhaps ask her for the next dance, but as soon as the dance was over he escorted Lady Cynthia to the refreshment room.
Emily, though quite upset, resolved to think no more about it, and smiled brilliantly upon the young man whom Sedgewick was bringing to meet her. The young man, who was introduced as Mr. Henry Watkins, was so struck by the brilliance of Emily’s smile that it was not until Sedgewick reminded him of his purpose in approaching Emily that he managed to stammer out a request for the next dance.
Emily agreed, and they took their places in the country dance. Mr. Watkins was a very young man, fresh out of Oxford, who, as a younger son, was destined for the army or the clergy, though at the present could not decide which he preferred. All of this, and more, Emily learned whenever the steps of the dance brought them together. Mr. Watkins’s father owned a small farm in Sussex, and he even disclosed the type of cattle that was bred there, although Emily would have been hard put to tell anyone, if asked, what type it was. For, although she gave every appearance of hanging upon his every word, she had stopped listening as soon as Lord Wesleigh and Lady Cynthia reentered the ballroom.
She saw Sedgewick approach Alexander and engage him in conversation, and, as they appeared to be looking in her direction, she began laughing hysterically, as if Mr. Watkins had just been saying something horribly amusing, when in reality he had been describing a horse he had recently purchased.
He looked at her in surprise, and she apologized, but told him what he said had reminded her of a funny incident with a horse when she was a child. To her dismay, he insisted she share the story with him, and she was forced to make something up that was not funny in the least, but to which Mr. Watkins laughed heartily, and said, “By Jove, that’s the funniest story I’ve ever heard.”
She would not have been laughing had she overheard Sedgewick’s conversation with Alexander. It had begun innocently enough, but as Alexander was desperate to know the name of the gentleman with whom Emily was dancing, and Sedgewick just as eager to tell him, the pleasantries were soon dispensed with and the significant part of the conversation began.
“I do not recognize the young man dancing with Miss Emily Smithfield,” Alexander mentioned, in a casual manner.
“That’s Mr. Henry Watkins from Sussex. Rather nice chap, actually. Quite taken with Emily. He practically begged me for an introduction.”
“They seem to be getting along rather well,” said Alexander, having just observed Emily laughing enthusiastically in response to a remark of her partner’s. (The remark having to do with the purchase of a new horse.)
“Yes, they do. If I were interested in Emily at all, romantically, I mean, I would be a trifle worried.”
Alexander raised his eyebrows at this blatant hint. “Then it’s a good thing, I suppose, that you are engaged to Miss Lydia Smithfield and not her sister,” he said sardonically.
“Yes, it is a good thing. However, other gentleman, who are not engaged, may lose out on the opportunity altogether.” Mr. Watkins’s loud laughter in response to Emily’s made-up story punctuated Sedgewick’s remark.
“Oh, I am not so sure. Mr. Watkins is only a plain mister after all, and not, I assume, very plump in the
