Read Candice Hern Online

Authors: The Regency Rakes Trilogy

Candice Hern (5 page)

"Oh, I am indeed quite sensible, my lord," Emily said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But we all have our moments of weakness." Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and then both laughed aloud.

The dowager entered the drawing room at that moment, resplendent in lavender and silver, with Charlemagne trailing close behind. At the sound of laughter, Charlemagne felt obliged to join in with raucous barking.

"
Cela suffit! Tais-toi, chien
," the dowager scolded.
The pug immediately ceased barking and returned obediently to her side. "Well," she said, smiling, "I am glad to see you two young people enjoying yourselves. Is not Emily a dear, Robert? I don't know how I ever got on without her."

Robert smiled and raised his glass to Emily in salute.

 

* * *

 

They were soon joined by Major and Mrs. Chenowith, an elderly couple who were each every bit as gregarious as the dowager. Like the dowager, the Chenowiths were year-long residents of Bath and therefore frequent visitors to Laura Place.

Mrs. Chenowith and Lady Bradleigh immediately put their turbaned heads together in discussion of some local
on-dit
, while the major lost no time in engaging Robert in close conversation. He was particularly anxious for news from London regarding last week's assassination of the Prime Minister. As Robert took his responsibilities in the House of Lords quite seriously, despite his rather roguish reputation, he was able to enlighten the major regarding the latest concerns as to what the Regent might do about appointing a new Prime Minister. As a dedicated Tory, the major was encouraged to learn that the Regent appeared to be turning his back on his Whig cronies and leaning toward maintaining a proper Tory government.

Although the major expressed no particular surprise, Robert was quite astonished to hear Miss Townsend join in the conversation with some obvious knowledge of the political situation. Most young women he knew read no further than the social pages of the newspapers. In fact, many were not
allowed
to read any further, as a protection against feminine sensibilities. Yet here was a young woman who obviously read the political news of the day with some regularity. Of course, a woman of Miss Townsend's station in life would not be faced with the normal distractions of fashion and Town gossip. Robert responded politely to her questions regarding the assassin's trial at the Old Bailey, which had been in progress when he had left Town. She also asked his opinion of Lord Liverpool and the implications of his possible appointment by the Regent. Robert was further confounded by this intriguing woman to recognize subtle Whig tendencies in her comments. The mystery of Miss Townsend deepened.

Robert was unable to probe this mystery any further as Sir Percy Whittaker and Lord Hargreaves were announced. Both gentlemen were longtime acquaintances of the dowager and loyal members of her Bath coterie. Each made a beeline to her side to pay his compliments. Lord Hargreaves was first on the spot, offering the dowager a brief salute on each cheek. She spoke a few fond words to the handsome silver-haired viscount before she turned to greet her other guest.

Sir Percy, a short, stocky gentleman with longish gray hair and gold-rimmed spectacles, reached for the dowager's outstretched hand, which he brought to his lips. "Frances, my dear," he said, "it is, as always, a pleasure. You look quite smart this evening." The dowager nodded in acknowledgment of his compliment. Turning to Miss Townsend, he grasped that lady's hand as well, also bringing it to his lips. "Emily, my girl. I look forward to another delightful evening of your scintillating conversation."

Miss Townsend smiled at the older man, who, Robert couldn't help but notice, held her hand a little longer than was absolutely proper. He then turned to Robert, bowing crisply. "Lord Bradleigh. What a pleasant surprise to find you in Bath once again. It has been some time since we last met."

More pleasantries were exchanged while sherry was passed around. When dinner was announced, Robert offered his arm to his grandmother, Lord Hargreaves escorted Mrs. Chenowith, and Sir Percy escorted Emily. This left Major Chenowith unpartnered, and although he seemed unconcerned, the dowager was obviously uncomfortable, as she found uneven numbers extremely vulgar.

Anatole's delicacies were enhanced by the lively conversation and witty repartee of all diners, made easier by the unusual round table. Dining in this intimate setting precluded adherence to the standard dining room proprieties. It was almost impossible to limit conversation to the person at one's side. Indeed, there was much general conversation across table. Robert noted that Miss Townsend, though soft-spoken and polite, was actively included in most conversations. He particularly noted that Sir Percy, whom he had known for years as one of his grandmother's ubiquitous swains, appeared on this evening to have more interest in Miss Townsend. The normally inscrutable baronet was positively oozing warmth as he conversed with her. Had this aging
roué
developed a
tendre
for his grandmother's companion? Poor Miss Townsend, he thought. He kept an eye open for hints that Miss Townsend had also set her cap for the older man, but he saw nothing more than friendly civility and restrained amusement.

Sir Percy shot Robert a look at one point that made it clear he was aware of Robert's scrutiny.

After dinner the gentlemen immediately joined the ladies in the drawing room, foregoing their usual port at the insistence of the dowager. She deplored the standard practice of postprandial segregation and refused to sanction it in her own home. She felt that the ladies should not have to be deprived of the gentlemen's company, just so the gentlemen might drink port, smoke cigars, and tell bawdy stories. She saw no reason why they could not share these activities with the ladies.

Robert lagged behind a bit and waited to see how the other six would arrange themselves about the room. He accepted a glass of port from Barnes and casually roamed the room, surveying the others. The dowager claimed her favorite fauteuil near the fireplace, while Charlemagne claimed her lap. Lord Hargreaves took an adjacent chair while the Chenowiths sat together on a small needlepoint settee. Sir Percy led Emily to the other side of the room, where he took a chair opposite her.

Finally, in response to his curiosity and amusement at Sir Percy's possessive attentions toward his grandmother's companion, Robert boldly intruded on what appeared to be a private conversation by deliberately parking himself on the delicate painted sofa, next to Miss Townsend. He pretended not to notice Sir Percy's eyes narrow momentarily as he insinuated himself into their conversation. As their discussion turned to the impending removal to London, Sir Percy became visibly agitated. He was apparently most upset that the Laura Place ladies, and in particular Miss Townsend, were to leave Bath. Sir Percy caught Robert's puzzled frown and chuckled.

"My lord," Sir Percy said with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes, "I sense your curiosity. So that you may not get the wrong impression, I now will let you in on a secret that you must swear never to reveal, as it would be most lowering to my reputation."

Robert's brows rose in question. "I am all agog with suspense, Sir Percy. Pray, put me out of my misery."

"Well, you see," Sir Percy continued in a conspiratorial voice, "Miss Townsend has been assisting me with my latest literary endeavor. After so many years of penning the usual gothic drivel, I found myself quite dried up. The old upper works completely bereft of new ideas. Then one day while having tea in Laura Place with a few dozen of your grandmother's closest friends, Miss Townsend took pity on me and rescued me from a numbing conversation with a certain turbaned dragon who claimed to be Penelope Manning's greatest fan. Normally I go to great lengths to divorce myself from my literary alter ego, but somehow this harpy had unmasked my identity. Miss Townsend recognized my distress and deftly swept the dragon away. When Miss Townsend then took over the dragon's seat, it marked the beginning of a delightful friendship." He gazed fondly at Emily. "I happily discovered that we are somewhat kindred spirits, that Emily is something of a bluestocking."

Robert turned to look at Miss Townsend with questioning brows. She smiled shyly at him and shrugged with resignation.

"Ah, my dear Emily," Sir Percy said, obviously sensing Miss Townsend's discomfort, "you must not reject the label of bluestocking. How much more intriguing is the educated woman with wit and intelligence as compared to the usual insipid misses one meets in Society, with no conversation and little sense. Is that not so, my lord?" Sir Percy asked.

"Without question," Robert said, grinning at Miss Townsend. This woman continued to intrigue him.

"English society is quite backward in this particular area," Sir Percy said. "In France they appreciate a clever woman, as your grandmother knows well, Lord Bradleigh. In Paris, before the days of this upstart Corsican, Frances and Emily would no doubt have set up a grand salon and held court to the intelligentsia. Instead they are stuck here in Bath with a bunch of old eccentrics like me." He sighed.

"And yet," he continued more cheerfully, "it is my great fortune that they
are
here." He gazed fondly across the room at the dowager, who was in animated conversation with Lord Hargreaves and the Chenowiths. "My dear Frances has often acted as my inspiration and my muse as she regales me with stories of her youth. Such a life she has led!" He smiled over at the dowager, who looked up and smiled flirtatiously in return. "I can only write of such adventures, having lived a rather quiet life myself. And now I have the muse of Emily as well."

"Don't tell me that you are a notorious adventuress, Miss Townsend?" Robert asked, eyes wide with feigned astonishment.

"Hardly, my lord," she said, laughing. "I, too, as you must know, have led a very quiet life."

"A quiet life cannot contain an active, agile brain," Sir Percy said. "Emily has been invaluable to me in suggesting story lines, plot twists, characters, dialogue, and such. Her ideas have quite revitalized my writing. My publisher has been most pleased with the early chapters." He nodded his thanks to Miss Townsend, who nodded in return. "Do you think, my dear, that I might impose so much as to send you the drafts of the later chapters while you are in London? I would so appreciate your continued advice."

"Of course, Sir Percy," Miss Townsend said. "I would be happy to read them. But I doubt that you really need my advice."

"I welcome it, nonetheless," Sir Percy said as he rose to leave. He went to the dowager's side, offering her a chaste kiss on the cheek. He then turned back to Emily, took her hand, and brought it to his lips. "I trust we can have a few more visits together before your departure, my dear?" he asked.

"Of course, Sir Percy."

"I shall look forward to it," he crooned.

As the baronet departed, Robert turned to Miss Townsend and said in an undertone, "I see my grandmother is not the only one with doting admirers."

Emily scowled at him in mock distress.

Chapter 4

 

The next morning found the dowager's household in a flurry of activity. The removal to London was to be a major undertaking, since the dowager insisted on taking with her every item or person necessary to her comfort. Emily frequently found herself with one of the dowager's many lists, checking off things to be done or made or purchased or packed prior to leaving Bath.

Emily had somehow become in charge of the entire operation, and although the household staff was under the direct supervision of either Mrs. Dougherty or Barnes, everyone cooperated without complaint to Emily's requests. Emily found great pleasure in the kindness shown to her by the dowager's staff, something she had not always experienced in the other households in which she had been employed.

She supposed the staff expected someone in her position within the household hierarchy to put on airs, to avoid association with the lower servants completely. Such behavior was common enough for those staff members with a special exalted status— like Anatole, the chef, or Tuttle, the dowager's dresser. Emily, however, found her life was made easier by treating all members of the staff with the same level of courtesy. She knew that only by such behavior was she able to rely on their full cooperation on major undertakings like the removal to London.

She would have been aghast to know of the specious rumors circulating belowstairs regarding her background.

Later that morning, during a rare moment of quiet, Emily found herself marveling at the good fortune that had brought her into the dowager's employ. As she sat in the window seat in her bedroom, a slim volume of poetry propped open on her lap, she gazed out the window as she pondered all that had happened during the last few days. Emily was secretly as excited and as nervous as a schoolgirl about the impending trip to London. She had never been to the capital, although she remembered clearly all her mother's stories about her own Season in Town. Her father had frequently absented himself in Town for weeks, but never spoke about whatever business took him there. In fact, before her employment had brought her to Bath, Emily's only taste of Town life was an occasional shopping trip to Bury St. Edmonds. And so she looked upon the prospect of a visit to London as something of an adventure into the Unknown. Although Bath was far from a rural backwater, she knew it to be a sleepy village as compared to London. The dowager warned her to expect to participate in the full social whirl of the Season's activities. This thought sparked a frisson of apprehension.

Emily thrust aside this wayward fear as childish and unwarranted. She was, after all, a paid companion who would likely melt unnoticed into the background. She knew Lady Bradleigh well enough to know that she would not force Emily into any awkward social situation. Emily's mood lightened as she thought of her eccentric and gregarious employer. The dowager was more than kind to her. She treated her rather like a member of the family than a paid employee. Emily had developed a great affection for the older woman.

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