Elizabeth Meyette - [Love's 01] (11 page)

“As I recall, madam, I am not the only one who got soaked. Nor that deserved to!”

“Why, Captain, you cannot mean me!”

They laughed together remembering the gaiety, and their laughter faded to smiles as they remembered lying in the grass.

Emily found Jonathon’s eyes upon her and, for a moment, time stopped. Her heart raced in her chest, and her body longed to be in his arms. The memory of his kiss aboard the
Destiny
seeped into her mind; her lips felt the fire as if it had happened just a moment before. She looked down at her hands, and then rose. He rose, too, and stood in front of her.

“Well, I think I shall retire,” she said softly.

Clenching his fists at his side, Jonathon fought down the urge to take her in his arms, press her body close, and kiss her long and full.

“Good night, Em.”

She chanced a look at him, blue eyes meeting brown, and the flicker of candlelight golden upon her face.

“Good night,” she whispered and swept past him.

Jonathon went inside and poured himself a brandy. Returning to his seat on the veranda, he silently toasted Emily. He sat deep in thought until the grandfather clock in the hall struck midnight.

• • •

Emily was puzzled as she entered the parlor, where Dulcie said Deidre awaited her. The morning sun streamed in, and a light breeze billowed the lace curtains. Muted voices drifted in from the gardens as Joanna supervised the work there.

Deidre maintained a cool, sophisticated mien when Emily appeared, though no doubt anger and jealousy roiled within her. She looked the girl over, taking in her tawny hair, highlighted golden by the sun, and her shapely figure enhanced by the simple, yellow frock she wore. The result of her scrutiny served only to increase her reined emotions.

“Good morning, Deidre,” Emily said as she took a seat across from her.

“Well, Emily, you look just lovely today.”

Not sure how to take this, Emily merely smiled.

“Quite a contrast to the scene I witnessed yesterday.” Deidre lowered her eyelids as if properly scandalized. “That is what I came to talk to you about, my dear. At your age I am sure that you do not understand about… well… proper decorum. I thought we might have a little chat so I could help you begin to act more… uh… ladylike.” Deidre looked at her feigning concern.

“Just how old do you think I am, Deidre? Why not cease this charade and tell me why you came?”

Deidre, kept her composure momentarily. Then, deciding on a course of action let her guard down, and the motherly smile that had been on her face melted into a sneer.

“All right, Emily, I shall be frank. I have known Jonathon for many years, very
intimately
,” she stressed the word. “He is a mature man who appreciates a woman who is… shall we say, knowledgeable. I do not wish to see our relationship disturbed by you and your conniving ways. I see your game here; you have wormed your way into this house, and you have set your sights on Jonathon. It does not take much to see through your scheme, and I must compliment you on the success of it so far. But I warn you, Emily, find a nice young man your own age and keep away from Jonathon.”

Emily was livid at the woman’s impudence, but she sat calmly, not showing her rage. Picking an imaginary piece of lint off her skirt she casually looked at Deidre.

“Tell me this, Deidre. In my grand scheme, as you call it, how did I arrange for my father to drown at sea?”

Deidre recoiled as if she had been slapped. Emily did not intend to let her off that easily.

“Deidre, my dear,” she said sweetly, “Jonathon is a man of the world; both of us understand that. I appreciate your jealousy because, as we both know, Jonathon is so… virile.” She looked down delicately. “I think we should just be grateful for any opportunities we have to… enjoy his attentions… and leave it at that, do you not agree? Otherwise, we would be opponents, and then it would come down to youth versus experience.” Emily looked her squarely in the eye.

“You have not heard the end of this, you little — ” Deidre seethed, rising from her chair.

“Are you not staying for tea?” Emily asked brightly as Deidre stormed out of the room.

Emily sat staring ahead of her as she listened to the carriage roll down the drive. Her cool exterior was betrayed by trembling as she sat lost in her thoughts.

“So that is how it is,” she whispered. Her heart was heavy as she thought of Jonathon lying in Deidre’s arms. Why had she led Deidre to believe that she was also Jonathon’s lover? But then Emily recalled the smug, condescending look on the older woman’s face, and she knew why. But Deidre’s claim did not fit somehow. Jonathon certainly had not acted enamored of Deidre last night. In fact, he seemed a bit put off by her attentions. He certainly was not shy. Was he wanting to keep their liaison a secret? Emily puzzled over this for a while. Finally, rising, she joined Joanna who was carrying in a basket vibrant with freshly cut Rose of Sharon, lobelia, lupine and tuberoses from the garden.

Emily took the flowers while Joanna removed her large sunbonnet.

“Joanna, how long have you known Deidre?”

“As long as I can remember. Our families have been friends for years. In fact, it was expected that she and Jonathon would marry, but she married Robert Manning instead. It caused quite a sensation,” Joanna explained as she arranged the flowers in a crystal vase.

“When did Robert Manning die?” Emily asked.

“Oh, about six years ago. They had only been married a few years. They found Robert’s body in the river. It was a terrible shock, and Deidre was in such a state that she stayed with us for a short time. You see, she was completely alone as her parents had both died by then.”

“And she never remarried?”

“No,” Joanna answered absently, intent on rearranging an errant tuberose. Then she turned to look at Emily. “Why?”

“I was just curious.”

Joanna looked at her for a moment. “Deidre is a strong-willed woman, and when she does not get what she wants she can be quite disagreeable.”

“Is that a warning, Joanna?” Emily asked.

Joanna stopped fixing the flowers and again looked at Emily. “It is information that might be useful.”

• • •

The hazy, hot days of August slipped into September, which brought some relief with cooler temperatures. Emily enjoyed riding more and was becoming quite familiar with the area surrounding the manor. Sometimes Andrew or Joanna would accompany her, and she never ceased to be amazed at the vastness of the tobacco fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. She and Andrew were also learning to shoot pistols; between David and Jonathon, they were getting expert instruction. Andrew enjoyed it immensely and practiced whenever possible. Emily did not enjoy it as much as he, but the others convinced her that it was necessary, especially if she planned to continue riding alone. So she practiced, too, and they both became quite proficient.

Jonathon also invited Emily to enjoy the books in his study, so Emily took advantage of his offer. The titles he owned impressed her; she savored the moments she spent in that room surrounded by knowledge and great thinking set to paper. This is where Joanna found her one afternoon.

“Emily, I would like to speak with you,” she said.

Emily set her book down. “Yes, Joanna?”

“I know it is only six months since your father died, Emily, but we would like to introduce you and Andrew to our friends. We thought perhaps a ball in honor of your eighteenth birthday.”

Emily’s eyes danced. “Joanna, how wonderful of you!” She walked over and hugged her impulsively.

“Oh, I am so glad you approve. David and I were not sure if it was too soon, but Jonathon said we should celebrate your arrival. Now we shall make some plans.”

The two of them spent a delightful afternoon drawing up a guest list. With each name, Joanna gave a brief description to help Emily ease into the society to which she now belonged.

• • •

Emily checked her appearance in the mirror. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement and her face glowed. Her royal blue gown lay just off her shoulders and revealed the fullness of her creamy white breasts. She wore a sapphire necklace and drop earrings that had been her mother’s, and her hair was swept up in curls intertwined with blue ribbon and lace. She twirled about in anticipation, her skirts billowing about her legs. Joanna knocked and entered.

“Emily, you look lovely,” she smiled. Joanna wore a sea green gown and emeralds at her throat.

“Thank you, Joanna, as do you. It is wonderful of you to do this.”

“Birthdays have always been cause for celebration in our family, and now you are a part of our family. And it is a good way to show you off to our friends.”

Emily hugged her. “You have made me feel so welcome here. I thought when I left England that I would never be happy again, but — ” Tears filled her eyes.

Joanna hugged her and smiled. “Come, Emily, it is time to go downstairs.”

Many of the guests had already arrived, and their laughter, mingled with the strains of La Royale, floated up the stairs as Emily and Joanna descended. Jonathon saw them and waited at the bottom of the steps. His gaze rested on Emily, and an appreciative grin settled on his face. Joanna suppressed a smile, and Emily felt suddenly shy, but warmth surged throughout her. He offered the women his arms and escorted them into the ballroom.

Voices softened to a murmur and Emily saw a sea of faces turning toward her. Jonathon reached to a passing tray; he gave each woman a glass of champagne and took one for himself. He signaled Andrew to join them.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present my wards, Andrew and Emily Wentworth, late of London, England, now of Brentwood Manor, Virginia. And I pray you all, drink to the health of Miss Wentworth whose birth we celebrate today.”

Emily blushed as the guests drank to her health. Then Joanna began a round of endless introductions. Emily murmured polite replies to the myriad questions posed and found it impossible to remember all the names.

Soon Randy approached and scolded, “Enough, Joanna. Let the girl have some fun, too. She can dance with me.”

“Diversion, perhaps, Randolph, but her feet will not find it fun to be trod upon,” Joanna teased.

“I was born with light feet and a lilting voice, Mrs. Sutton,” he retorted and drew Emily onto the floor.

“You look beautiful, Emily,” he smiled down at her.

“Why thank you, Randy. And you are light on your feet.”

Randy noticed Jonathon on the far side of the room. Although engaged in what appeared to be deep conversation with Deidre, Jonathon’s eyes never left Emily. Deidre noticed, too, and plucked at his sleeve to get his attention. But when Jonathon met Randy’s gaze he averted his eyes and finally looked back at Deidre.

The music ended for a brief intermission. People milled about, and Randy led Emily toward the table laden with refreshments. He offered her another glass of champagne, which she accepted gratefully for, although the doors were flung wide, the mild September night and the large crowd caused the room to be quite warm.

“Will the belle of the ball promise a dance to her knight in shining armor?” Jonathon was beside her.

Looking up at him, Emily noticed Deidre behind him. She gave him her warmest smile and replied, “Of course, Jonathon.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise when she used his first name.

“My warmest wishes for your birthday, Emily,” Deidre said sweetly, her eyes as cold as ice.

“Why thank you, Deidre,” she answered graciously.

A tall, handsome young man approached and said, “Well, Jonathon, will you introduce me to this lovely lady, or do you intend to keep her to yourself?”

Deidre’s lips tightened.

“Myself? I have yet to dance with her. It seems the bold rakes that are present tonight,” he cast a meaningful glance at Randy, “have been claiming all her dances. Emily, may I present Phillip Beaumont. Phillip, Emily Wentworth.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Beaumont,” Emily said extending her hand. Phillip bent and kissed it.

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Wentworth. May I have the honor of the next dance?” he inquired.

“She has promised it to her aging guardian,” Randy laughed.

“But you shall follow, Mr. Beaumont.” Emily replied.

The room was brightly lit with candles that sparkled off jewels and glowed on faces. The musicians returned, and Jonathon led Emily to the floor. The music began and he slipped his arm around Emily’s tiny waist, sending shivers of delight through her. Jonathon held her hand lightly as they glided across the floor.

“You continue to surprise me, Miss Wentworth,” he said, a twinkle in his eyes. “That last greeting made me almost hope that your opinion of me might be changing. Perhaps, at last, you have found that one redeeming quality for which you had promised to search.”

Emily turned up her nose and looked away.

“But then, perhaps not,” he teased. “Although, after the interesting discussion I had with Deidre a while ago, I was sure you must have found something pleasing about me.”

She peered at him sideways. “Just what was your discussion about?”

“Well, Deidre seems to feel terribly threatened by you and referred to ‘our relationship’ — meaning you and me — quite often. She made reference to old lechers and young virgins.”

Emily blushed scarlet.

“Someone has led her to believe that… well, that I have become more than your guardian,” his mouth twitched with a suppressed smile.

Emily looked straight ahead at the lace that cascaded at his throat.

He continued, “I do not know where she ever got that idea, certainly not from the warm and loving way you treat me.”

“Captain Brentwood, do you intend to mock me throughout this entire dance?” Emily asked.

“I see we are back to formality. Just answer me this, Emily. What did you and Deidre discuss during her visit?”

Emily looked up at him in surprise.

“Oh yes, she told me about it,” he answered her silent question.

“Really, Captain,” Emily looked at him. There was a look of concern on his face that Emily did not understand. His brown eyes looked away, flitting across the other dancers. “She told me of your intimate relationship.” Emily’s heart felt heavy as she again thought of the two of them together.