“Lydia, would you stop acting like the heroine of a bad tragedy! No, I did not betray your confidence. I did not have to. Mr. Williams noticed you and Mr. Sedgewick when you sang together the other evening, and mentioned that he thought Mr. Sedgewick had an interest in you but felt you were above his touch.”
There was a pause, while Lydia assumed a tragic pose worthy of Sarah Siddons. “What nobility, what strength of character, to think that I am above his touch. It is I that am not worthy of him.”
Emily had never paid much attention to her sister’s histrionic tendencies in the past. But today she was finding it quite wearing trying to anticipate what role Lydia would be playing next. Emily suppressed a sigh and tried to think which approach she should take. If she allowed Lydia to continue on in this vein, she would have Sedgewick and herself nobly sacrificing themselves for love, à la Romeo and Juliet. However, there would be no suicide; that would be far too vulgar. Lydia would probably just don wispy, fluttery clothing and mourn her lost love by heaving great sighs and peering out windows.
“Nonsense, Lydia.” Emily decided to take the direct, sensible approach, although Lydia in love was the complete opposite. “You are perfect for each other. We just need to ensure that you are committed to each other prior to the marquess’s arrival.”
“Committed to each other? Whatever do you mean?”
Emily’s patience was wearing thin. “You know, betrothed. Perhaps married. Some irrevocable commitment that would make it impossible for you to marry Lord Wesleigh.”
“Married? Emily, he’ll be here any day. How could we possibly be married prior to his arrival?”
“Oh, Lydia, I don’t know. Hopefully you will not have to be. I just mentioned it as a last resort. But, if there is no other alternative, there’s always Gretna Green.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth Emily knew she’d regret them. She had never before seen quite that expression of horror on her sister’s face. Surprisingly, it did not detract from her beauty. Lydia’s rosebud lips formed a perfect O, and her blue eyes widened attractively. Emily knew that if she tried to assume a similar expression, she would end up looking like a gargoyle. “Forget I even said anything about Gretna, Lydia. I am positive you will not need to elope. All we really need is to assure ourselves of Mr. Sedgewick’s feelings toward you, and then we can explain the impossibility of your marriage to the marquess. Now, what will you wear to the assembly?”
Alexander was having similar difficulties with Sedgewick. He, too, was furious about having been abandoned with Lydia.
“But I thought you enjoyed Miss Smithfield’s company,” Alexander exclaimed, the picture of innocence.
“Of course I do, she is a well-behaved young lady, but that does not answer the fact—”
“You do not have any interest in her beyond that?”
“I am not sure I understand. What do you mean by that question? My feelings toward the lady are entirely proper—”
“Yes, yes. I am sure they are,” Alexander assured him, while racking his brain to think of a way to force a confession from someone so concerned with respectability. “However, Miss Emily Smithfield intimated to me that Miss Lydia Smithfield may have an interest in you beyond mere friendship.”
“Miss Smithfield said that?” For a moment Jonathan Sedgewick allowed a look of amazed delight to cross his features, but it quickly turned into one of suspicion. “Why would she tell you that?”
“Apparently she thought that you may return her sister’s feelings, and she was concerned that her sister might be forced into an arranged marriage with me.”
“So she knows that you are actually Lord Wesleigh?”
“No, no, she doesn’t know. I meant she is concerned that her sister might be forced into a marriage with Lord Wesleigh.”
“Why would she confide in you her feelings if she did not know you were he?”
“Because she knew me to be your friend, and was hopeful that I could confirm that you returned her sister’s regard.” Alexander did not allow his exasperation to show on his face, but he wished his friend would just take him at his word and cease his interrogation.
His wish was granted. A look of bemusement crossed Sedgewick’s face, and he grew so quiet Alexander thought he’d forgotten his presence. But, as Alexander watched him, he saw his friend’s expression change from elation to despair. “It is useless even to hope,” Sedgewick muttered.
“But, why? It’s obvious you care for the lady, she returns your regard, the time-honored antidote for such a situation is marriage.”
“But, her parent and your own wish for her to marry you. You have all the advantages, wealth, the title. What do I have to offer her? I cannot even compete.”
“You do not have to,” Alexander replied. “I withdraw from the competition. I have no desire to marry a lady who is in love with another. However, I find myself reluctant to try to explain to my father and Miss Smithfield’s mother that as Lydia Smithfield is in love with another gentleman, I withdraw my suit. It would obviously be very embarrassing for the young lady with no proof that the gentleman in question returned her regard. Therefore, I need your assistance. You are going to have to put your luck to the touch at the local assembly.”
Emily viewed her appearance in the mirror with approval. She knew that she was not up to London’s fashion standards, and she wished she were able to wear more vibrant hues than an unmarried miss was allowed, but she was definitely in looks. She was wearing the palest of pinks, almost white, which suited her coloring better than darker pink or white. Her gown was cut simply, the neckline forming a deep V, almost meeting the riband of darker pink under her bust, and she had on the pearl necklace her father had given her shortly before his death. She was pleased to see that Lydia looked charming as well, and did not feel, as she sometimes did, that Lydia’s appearance outshone her own. There was a happiness and excitement bubbling inside her that she felt nothing could dissipate.
Emily tried to convince herself that the excitement she felt was on Lydia’s behalf, a sort of vicarious pleasure, but she knew it had much to do with the presence of a certain curate who behaved as if he were a lord.
She found him puzzling, a mystery that needed solving, and wanted desperately to believe that was her sole interest in the gentleman. She could not be falling in love with a penniless curate. What kind of life could they have together? He did not even have a living, no real means of supporting a wife. Her family was not rich, by any means, but they were not impoverished, either, which she would be were she to marry Mr. Williams. But what was intriguing about Mr. Williams was that he did not behave as if he were impoverished. There was no deference about him, no false humility. He did not kowtow to Lord or Lady Abernathy, but behaved as if he thought he was their equal. Although he and Sedgewick were friends, Sedgewick seemed almost to defer to Mr. Williams. It was very odd. Emily felt sure there was more to Mr. Williams than there appeared. And she was determined to find out what it was.
But that is my only interest in him, she assured herself. And found herself reassuring herself as soon as she saw him at the assembly that evening.
He was with Jonathan Sedgewick, who looked pale as a ghost. Emily was not sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. It probably meant that Mr. Williams had spoken with him about Lydia, as he’d promised, but Sedgewick looked more as a man does when presented with his worst nightmare, not his fondest dream. Did Sedgewick not return Lydia’s regard?
Emily looked at her sister and was reassured when she saw that Lydia resembled a frightened rabbit. She knew Lydia was in love with Sedgewick. The two must both be suffering from nothing more than an attack of nerves. It was up to her and Williams to smooth the lovers’ path. Her encouraging look in Williams’s direction was enough to bring him promptly to her side, offering to lead her out in the first dance. When she accepted, leaving Sedgewick alone with Lydia, they had no choice but to join the set that was forming.