Read La Petite Four Online

Authors: Regina Scott

La Petite Four (17 page)

BOOK: La Petite Four
7.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
She only wished she could say that about the rest of her life.
21
White Flag
s
of Surrender
Emily bent over Medallion’s head, gloved hands on her horse’s reins. “I need you to fly today,” she whispered into the black ear. Medallion shook her head, the silky mane caressing Emily’s cheek. She touched her heels to the horse’s flank and felt the muscles bunch beneath her. In a breath, they were away.
The Thoroughbred pounded down the sandy track, the beat of her hooves echoing the pounding of Emily’s heart. The air, heady with the blooms of spring, swept past her, cooling her skin, wiping clean her mind, imbuing hope, purpose.
She had two days to catch Lord Robert before the ball. She had to think, plan, determine some way to expose him to all of London.
But expose him as what? And how?
They reached the end of Rotten Row, with Kensington Palace looming in the background, and Emily pulled the horse up. Rubbing her hand along Medallion’s glossy neck, she turned the horse for the walk back up Hyde Park.
And heard her name being called.
“Emily!” Daphne shouted, waving wildly from the seat of her father’s barouche. Beside her in the open carriage sat Ariadne, with Priscilla on the opposite seat. They were all bundled in quilted pelisses, testimony to the morning chill. But the fact that none of them wore bonnets was testimony to the speed at which they’d come to find her.
As their family coachman reined the matching black horses to a halt, Emily brought Medallion alongside.
“We have so much to tell you!” Ariadne exclaimed.
Emily’s groom, who had been following at a distance, rode up as well. Emily tossed him Medallion’s reins and slid to the ground, pausing to tuck the black train of her wool riding habit up over her arm. In a moment, she had dispatched the groom to return the horse to the stable and climbed into the carriage to seat herself beside Priscilla.
“A great deal happened after you left last night,” Daphne said, leaning forward as the carriage set out once more.
“A great deal happened
before
she left,” Ariadne argued. She turned to Emily. “I’m only sorry I could not reach you in time. James Cropper is Lord Robert’s half brother and a Bow Street Runner!”
Though merely hearing Jamie’s name was painful, Emily managed a smile. “I know. Father told me on the way home.”
Ariadne’s face fell. “Oh, well, then.”
“There is more,” Daphne said, looking first at Emily and then more pointedly at Ariadne.
“Oh, I suppose,” Ariadne said. “But Emily quite stole my thunder.”
“Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” Emily said.
Ariadne sighed, her gaze going to the trees in the copse they were crossing. “Very well. As you know, I went to the retiring room to try to fix the stain on my dress.” She glanced back at Emily. “It didn’t come out, by the way. You were quite right. For all my scrubbing, all I managed to do was turn the dress pink, and I know how you feel about pink.”
Daphne coughed.
“I’m getting there!” Ariadne snapped. “I am a writer, you know. I can tell a decent story.”
When Daphne blushed, Ariadne hurried on. “In any event, I had just stepped behind the screen to use the Necessary when who should walk in but Lady Skelcroft and Lady Baminger. That odious Lady Skelcroft was quite incensed. She was trying to decide whether to tell poor Lady Wakenoak they were dining with her husband’s illegitimate son.”
So Lord Robert’s mother hadn’t known. “I wondered why she agreed to invite him,” Emily said. “I suppose I should be glad I wasn’t the only one in ignorance.”
“Indeed not,” Ariadne assured her as the carriage passed the still, green waters of the Serpentine. “I gather Lady Baminger was just as shocked to hear. Poor Lady Wakenoak turned white when Lady Skelcroft told her after the ladies had left the gentlemen to their port and retired to the withdrawing room.”
“But never you fear,” Daphne put in. “Lady Skelcroft got her due. I heard her telling Lady Baminger how she’d lost her diamond brooch. Her husband feared it stolen and called Bow Street. That’s how she knew Mr. Cropper.”
Priscilla made a face and spoke for the first time. “You missed the end of that story when your mother called you to play the piano for everyone. Lady Skelcroft found the brooch just the other day.”
Emily frowned. “Odd. That’s the same thing that happened to Acantha Dalrymple.”
“Well, they are just as horrid,” Daphne pointed out, “and they both love calling attention to themselves so I’m not entirely surprised.”
As the horses’ hooves drummed against the wood bridge near Hyde Park Corner, Priscilla put a hand on Emily’s arm. “I also must apologize for not speaking last night, Emily.”
The ache in her voice pierced Emily’s pain. She turned her frown on Priscilla. “What are you talking about?”
Priscilla’s hands fluttered before her, reminding Emily of Mrs. Tate’s fretting. “I wanted to tell you to fight, to refuse to marry the fellow just because your father wishes it. But I couldn’t very well say that, could I? I’m guilty of the same sin.”
Daphne reached out and patted Priscilla’s knee. “You’re only trying to help your family,” she assured Priscilla.
Priscilla straightened away from the kind touch as if she did not believe she deserved it. “That may be the case for me, but it isn’t the case for Emily. His Grace isn’t teetering on the brink of financial disaster, and she doesn’t have a Dreaded Family Secret to guard.” Her green gaze sought Emily’s, imploring. “You don’t have to do this. Say
no
.”
Emily shook her head. “It’s too late, Pris. I signed the settlement papers last night. I gave my word.”
Priscilla’s eyes were brimming. “Only because you didn’t wish to disappoint your father. You know that’s the truth. You don’t love Lord Robert. You couldn’t love someone like him.”
Tears heated Emily’s eyes as well. “What was it you said, Pris? ‘I imagine love and compatibility are very nice for those who can afford them.’ Apparently, even a duke’s daughter cannot afford them!”
“Nonsense!” Priscilla declared, dashing away her tears with one hand. “We’ll go back to your town house and send the footman for Lord Robert. I very much doubt he’s any match for La Petite Four when we set our minds to it. We’ll tell him that enough is enough. And we’ll make him give you the ball!”
Emily eyed her. Priscilla’s lips were tight, her skin pale. She had no way of knowing that having the ball would not save Emily from marrying a monster or ease Emily’s broken heart.
But Emily could not bear to see her friend so upset. If giving Lord Robert a piece of her mind would ease Priscilla’s pain, Emily was all for it.
“I suppose it’s worth a try,” she agreed.
And it was far easier than she’d thought, for when they arrived at the town house, Warburton announced that Lord Robert was waiting in the withdrawing room for a word with Lady Emily.
Emily and Priscilla exchanged glances, Ariadne nodded as if she’d expected the villain to show himself, and Daphne squared her shoulders as if ready for a fight. As soon as Warburton had taken their pelisses, the girls marched into the sitting room to confront Lord Robert. Emily was surprised to find herself almost eager for the moment. Arguing with him probably wouldn’t make her life any easier, as he’d no doubt take it out on her later. But she had a feeling Priscilla wouldn’t be the only one relieved to lay into him.
Lord Robert rose from where he’d been sitting on the sofa. As if he saw their intent written on their determined faces, he immediately held up his hands. Surrender? It couldn’t be. Emily hadn’t even opened her mouth!
“Ladies, how delightful to find you all together,” he said as Priscilla, Daphne, and Ariadne fanned out beside Emily, their gowns bright against the dark wool of her riding habit.
Emily crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, really, my lord? I cannot credit that you had something you wished to say to all of us.”
He must have grown used to her forthright speech, for he merely smiled as he lowered his hands. “Actually, I wished to speak to you, my dear, but I had hoped our discussion would end with an announcement of interest to your friends.”
Priscilla stepped closer to Emily with a frown. “And what would that be, my lord?” Priscilla demanded.
Emily eyed her, fighting a grin. She’d never heard Priscilla take precisely that tone with a gentleman before. In fact, Priscilla sounded a great deal like Emily!
“I regret that I am not at liberty to say, Miss Tate,” he replied with a short bow. “If I could have a moment of your time, Emily?”
Emily exchanged glances with Priscilla again. “Watch out for sweet words,” Priscilla whispered in warning, then she stepped back and drew Daphne and Ariadne toward the door.
“We’ll be just in the corridor, Lady Emily,” Daphne assured her as Priscilla pulled her out. “Well within calling distance if you need us. And I know where you keep the fireplace poker.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at Lord Robert before disappearing around the door frame. Ariadne, white-faced and still speechless in front of a gentleman, hurried out as well.
“Such good friends you have,” Lord Robert said as Emily returned her gaze to him.
Emily raised her chin. “You did not think so last night.”
“Ah,” he said, clasping his hands behind his dove-colored morning coat. “And that is why I had to see you this morning. I must apologize for my behavior last night. I said some things that I regret.”
Some things? She regretted every word she’d heard him speak. But Emily knew the others were listening, and she could not let La Petite Four down.
“You were a beast,” she said, setting her gloved fists on her hips. “You bullied me and belittled my friends. If I were a man, I’d call you out.”
His smile was all regret. “I understand how you might have taken my words amiss. I was not myself last night. It was the sight of Cropper. The fellow has been an enemy of my family since the day he was born. To find him in our home was maddening.”
She did not believe Jamie was the Townsends’ enemy; he appeared to dislike Lord Robert in particular. Still, it must have shocked Lord Robert to see his half brother standing there last night. Small wonder the two had barked at each other like bulldogs eager for a fight.
“You both said some rather harsh words,” she allowed, letting her hands fall.
“I would prefer that you not dwell on that. It does me no credit. I like to think I am a gentleman.”
He could pretend to the niceties all he liked. The mask had slipped last night, and Emily knew him for what he was. And he obviously thought he knew her. Did he truly find her so vapid as to believe this patter?
She tilted her head and fluttered her lashes at him. “Oh, you cannot know how that eases my mind, my lord.”
He completely missed her sarcasm, smiling at Emily as if she’d performed as well as a pet pooch. “I apologize for maligning your friends as well,” he said. He took a step closer, and the sunlight from the window crowned his head with fire. “I can see they have your best interests at heart. That’s why I had to see you this morning, before plans went any further. Perhaps I have been harsh in encouraging you to give up this ball.”
A gasp rang out from the corridor, followed by a scuffling noise, as if someone was being grabbed and hushed. Emily shook her head. She was having similar difficulty believing he meant what she thought. Surely this was some kind of trick to lull her into complacency. Why would Lord Robert give up now, when he’d won? He would think her at his mercy.
“So, you’ll change your plans for me?” she asked, watching him.
“Of course,” he said smoothly, as if willing to give her the world. “Though I am uncertain whether I can attend. It will all depend on Mother. Last night wore her out, poor dear, all that pretending she was happy when she is so devastated by Father’s loss.”
Somehow, Emily doubted Lady Wakenoak was so consummate an actress. Lord Robert’s mother had seemed rather happy to have so many people about, to be dressed in finery. Which hadn’t a stitch of black in it, come to think of it.
No, Lord Robert
had
to be the one acting a part. Anyone else might have been convinced by the sorrowful gaze, those downturned lips. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was playing some deep game, and, by agreeing to attend the ball, Emily had just dealt him the winning hand. If only he would speak the truth, just once!
She started. Of course! Last night, when he’d been in shock to see Jamie in his house, he’d spoken the truth. And Jamie had spoken the truth back. And in doing so, they had handed her the last piece of the puzzle.
She smiled up at Lord Robert so brightly, he blinked as if the sun had blinded him.
“You
must
come to the ball, my lord,” she told him. “Your presence will be the highlight of the evening, I assure you.”
Lord Robert smiled, obviously pleased by her insistence. He had no way of knowing that she’d just discovered his secret, and she intended to unveil it before all of London.
At the ball.
22
What Kind of Hermit Wanders Around Ballrooms?
Oh, but Emily had much to do before the ball! She dispatched Warburton on errands all over London, including sending an important package north by courier to her sister. Then she had to write three notes so important that her hand shook on the quill. The first was to Lady St. Gregory, telling her that there would be a painting to view after all. The second was to Lady Skelcroft, asking her to wear the diamond brooch to the ball. The lady had responded with such ill grace that Emily wished she hadn’t asked.
Almost.
The third to Jamie was the hardest. She started it four times before she found a phrasing that pleased her.
Dear Mr. Cropper,
I believe there has been a misunderstanding. Please come to Miss Tate’s ball tonight at nine at the Elysium Assembly Rooms near Kensington Palace, and all will be explained to your satisfaction.
Your friend, Lady Emily Southwell.
BOOK: La Petite Four
7.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Edmund Bertram's Diary by Amanda Grange
Short Stories 1927-1956 by Walter de la Mare
The Mercenary's Marriage by Rachel Rossano
The Pull of the Moon by Elizabeth Berg
NONSENSE FROM THE BIBLE by Baker, Brian
Signed and Sealed by Stretke, B.A.
My Summer With George by Marilyn French
Dead Is Just a Rumor by Marlene Perez