Art and Artifice (22 page)

“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 spoke of the speed at which
they’d come to find her.

As their family coachman reined in the
matching black horses, 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 mews 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 to tell you. James Cropper is Lord Robert’s half
brother!”

Though merely hearing his name hurt, 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 to it!” Ariadne snapped. “I am a
writer, you know. I can tell a decent story.”

When Daphne colored, 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 Lord Wakenoak’s bastard.”

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.”

“No indeed,” Ariadne assured her as the carriage
passed the still, green waters of the Serpentine. “I gather Lady
Baminger was just as shocked to hear about the matter. 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 ruby 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. Mr. Cropper found the brooch on the
floor. Lady Skelcroft apparently only misplaced it.”

So she’d been right about that night. Emily
frowned. “Odd. That’s the same thing that happened to Acantha
Dalrymple and Aunt Minerva.”

“Well, they all love calling attention to
themselves,” Daphne pointed out, “so I’m not entirely
surprised.”

As they turned to cross the grass for 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 do you mean?”

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 townhouse and send
the footman for Lord Robert. I very much doubt he’s any match for
the four of us when we set our minds to it. We’ll tell him that
enough is enough. We’ll make him give you the Ball!”

Emily eyed her. Priscilla’s lips were tight,
her skin pale, her eyes like great green circles of grief.
Priscilla 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
concerned. If giving Lord Robert a piece of her mind would make
Priscilla feel better, Emily was all for it.

“I suppose it’s worth a try,” she
allowed.

And it was far easier than she’d thought, for
when they arrived at the townhouse, 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 frowned.

“And as Lady Minerva is still abed,” the
butler continued, motioning to the footman to take their pelisses,
“I’m certain your friends will be only too glad to accompany
you.”

Priscilla, Daphne, and Ariadne all
straightened. Heads high, they marched into the sitting room to
confront Lord Robert. Emily was surprised to find herself almost
eager for the fight. Arguing with him probably wouldn’t improve her
life, 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.
She 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, 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?” she demanded.

Emily eyed her, fighting a grin. She’d never
heard Priscilla take precisely that tone with a boy before. In
fact, Priscilla began to sound 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.

Though the words held no trace of sarcasm,
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 she knew the others were waiting, and she
could not let her friends 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 my home was a
blow.”

She did not believe Jamie was the Townsends’s
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.

He lowered his gaze as if ashamed. “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 she 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 put a hand on his arm, drawing his gaze
to hers, and fluttered her lashes at him. “Oh, you cannot know how
that eases my mind, my lord.”

He completely missed
her
sarcasm,
smiling at her 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. She rather thought he knew it.

“I can see they have your best interests at
heart,” he continued in a soft murmur. “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, little dreaming that she
would never stop fighting.

“So, you’ll change your plans for me?” she
asked, watching him.

“Of course,” he said smoothly, spreading wide
his hands 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, she 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 down-turned lips. She only wished she could shake the feeling
that he was playing some deep game, and by agreeing to attend the
ball, she had just dealt him the winning hand. If only he would
speak the truth, just once!

She blinked. 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.”

He smiled, obviously assuming her joy had to
do with his gift. 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.

Jamie kept an eye on the Southwell townhouse
over the next few days. He wasn’t entirely sure why. Wednesday
marked the end of the week his superior had given him to clear up
the case, and he knew another lay waiting for him at Bow Street.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he could help Emily. She’d be preparing
for her wedding. He imagined that would entail trips to Bond Street
for fittings, perhaps consultations with the vicar. He didn’t much
want to watch, to be constantly reminded she was about to give
herself to another man. But he’d made a promise to Lady Minerva, so
he loitered along the street, kept out of sight, and followed the
coach whenever he saw Emily enter it.

But instead of shopping or visiting the
church, both times she and Lady Minerva left the house the carriage
took them to the stews, near where Jamie had followed her and her
friends that day the beggar had accosted them. Both times they
entered Messiers and Sons, the first time bringing a package, the
second leaving with one.

Why were they going to a pawn shop? He could
not conceive His Grace to be lacking in funds.