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 pocket.”
“He has a comfortable allowance,” Sedgewick replied, not knowing if it was true or not but, realizing he had picked rather a poor candidate for jealousy, felt it was his duty to make Watkins look as good as possible.
“Comfortable is not good enough, my friend. Not for Emily Smithfield.”
Sedgewick wished to rush to Emily’s defense, but they were interrupted at that point by Lady Cynthia, who complained of the heat. Alexander immediately offered to escort her to the gardens, where some fresh air might revive her. Sedgewick watched the scene with much agitation and went to consult with Lydia about what they should do now that their initial scheme had failed.
The evening that had so promising a beginning was rapidly turning into the most horrid evening of Lady Smithfield’s recollection. Lady Abernathy had congratulated her on Lydia’s engagement, barely concealing her smirk of triumph. “I assume that there will be no notice in the Morning Post of her engagement to Lord Wesleigh, now that she’s engaged to Mr. Sedgewick,” she said, laughing at her poor attempt at humor. Lady Abernathy was so unused to laughing that the sound that issued from her mouth was more of a bray than an actual laugh. Lady Smithfield felt it the most unpleasant sound she had ever heard.
“No, of course not. Although Lord Wesleigh was, of course, anxious to fulfill his father’s wishes, when we observed how attached Lydia was to Mr. Sedgewick, we could not permit the engagement to proceed, after all.” Lady Smithfield had been amazed when neither Lord nor Lady Abernathy had seen in Lord Wesleigh a resemblance to a certain curate. However, Lord Abernathy was a trifle shortsighted, and too vain to wear spectacles, and Lady Abernathy had paid little or no attention to a gentleman she had assumed was far beneath her notice. So they had merely proclaimed themselves delighted to meet Lord Wesleigh when introduced to him earlier in the evening, with never a mention of having met him last week at Lady Smithfield’s dinner party.
“Then I imagine we will soon see another engagement announced,” Lady Abernathy said, nodding in the direction of the dancers.
Lady Smithfield did not grasp her meaning at first. She wondered if Lady Abernathy could possibly be referring to Lord Wesleigh and Emily. But, when she looked in the direction Lady Abernathy was looking, she saw Lord Wesleigh and Lady Cynthia dancing together, and immediately understood what Lady Abernathy was implying.
Lady Smithfield wanted to contradict this pronouncement right away, but there was no denying the couple appeared very familiar, Lord Wesleigh’s dark head bent intimately over Lady Cynthia’s fair one. So she said nothing. However, when the dance had ended, and Lord Wesleigh disappeared into the refreshment room with Lady Cynthia on his arm, her alarm grew. Every minute he was away from the ballroom with that hussy seemed like an hour, and she felt she could not sit still a moment longer. Leaving Lady Abernathy to her triumph, she went to find the duke.
She finally found the duke in the card room, where he had retired after his obligatory dance with Lady Abernathy and his more enjoyable one with Emily. She had to wait impatiently for him to finish his hand, but he was soon finished and, seeing that Lady Smithfield desired a word with him, excused himself from the table.
“What is it?” he asked her, as soon as they had distanced themselves a little from the others in the room.
“Your son is paying most marked attentions to Lady Cynthia Sommers.”