Candice Hern (6 page)

Lord Bradleigh had also shown her uncommon civility, and was not in the least as top-lofty as she had expected. In fact, he had shown her nothing but apparently unprejudiced courtesy and friendliness, and Emily found that she couldn't help but like him, regardless of his reputation.

Emily, however, was not unaware that the earl had more than once gazed at her when he thought she wasn't looking. At one time she had in fact caught a rather smoldering look in his eye when she happened to catch his glance. These few uncomfortable moments had served to remind Emily of his amorous reputation, sending off warning bells of caution. She resolved to keep up her guard with the earl, realizing that he was well practiced in charming women with more worldly experience than she could ever hope to possess. How much easier to charm an inexperienced, naive spinster who had never met such an attractive, charming man in her life.

Emily thrust aside this second wayward fear, feeling decidedly foolish for even thinking of Lord Bradleigh in such a way, and returned to her poetry.

* * *

Earlier that same morning, Robert had come down to breakfast to find the dowager alone perusing her correspondence while she sipped a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, my love," he said as he bent down to kiss her cheek. He walked to the sideboard and began to load his plate with rare beefsteak, broiled tomatoes, fried eggs, and kippers. "And where is the remarkable Miss Townsend this morning? Do not tell me she is a slugabed!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Robert." The dowager glared at him over the top of tiny gold spectacles perched on the end of her long, aristocratic nose. "You must know that she has been up and about for hours, working with Mrs. Dougherty to organize the move to London. She is a treasure, my Emily. I really do not know how I ever got along without her. She is a lovely girl, don't you think?"

Robert dismissed the attendant footman with a flick of a finger. "Yes, I rather like her," he replied as he took a seat across from the dowager. "But hardly a girl, I think."

"You are quite right, my dear. She is, I believe, six and twenty years old. I have grown quite fond of her, you know. She is such a comfort to me in my old age," the dowager said as she cast a furtive glance at Robert over the top of the parchment she was reading.

"Oh, fustian!" Robert laughed, catching her glance. "You have always told me that you are only as old as you feel. And since when did you need 'comforting'? You're the most self-reliant old termagant I have ever known. So, my love, what is the true story of Miss Townsend? Since I have never known you to need a companion, I suspect there is more to this situation than meets the eye. Come now, why did you really hire her?"

"Because I like her and truly enjoy her company," his grandmother replied as she put down the parchment and removed her spectacles, a sure sign that she was ready for a serious discussion. "She is quite intelligent and provides excellent conversation, as you must have observed last evening. You know how I detest insipid, empty-headed females."

"And ..." Robert prompted.

"Because I needed someone to help with my correspondence, invitations, and the like." She gave an expansive gesture encompassing the stack of correspondence before her. "Emily has a beautiful hand, you know."

"And.. ."

"All right." She sighed, sinking back into her chair. "If you must know, she rather intrigued me, and, I admit, I felt a bit sorry for her." She slanted a hesitant look at Robert, who narrowed his brows skeptically. "She had worked for Catherine Fitzhugh, as you know. Dear Catherine was privy to Emily's unfortunate history and had recounted the sad tale to me."

"Good heavens! You're not about to tell me that she really is a royal by-blow?" Robert said, his speared beefsteak suspended halfway to his mouth.

The dowager's chin dropped. "I beg your pardon?" she said, her voice cracking slightly as she stared at her grandson in slack- jawed astonishment.

"Yes, well, I thought that story was probably a bit wide of the mark," Robert said, returning his attention to his beefsteak. "Luckett tells me your staff is abuzz with speculations as to Miss Townsend's background."

"Good God," the dowager said as she settled back in her chair. "And they think she has royal blood?" She glared openmouthed at Robert for a moment and then burst into loud hoots of laughter. "Oh, that is rich, my dear," she said when she was able. "Strange. I have always given the highest credence to servants' gossip." She chuckled softly as she shook her head in amazement.

"Emily is indeed wellborn, however," she continued after a moment. "Servants always do recognize quality. She is in fact the granddaughter of the Earl of Pentwick."

Robert, curious at best to hear Miss Townsend's story, silently rose his brows in interest as he tackled a plate of eggs. The dowager proceeded to enlighten him with the tale of the runaway marriage of Emily's parents and the estrangement from her mother's family. She also told what she knew, sparing no poignant detail, of Emily's loss of her mother at an early age, and her father's disastrous addiction to the gaming tables, which had left Emily penniless upon his death.

"I believe I met Townsend once or twice," Robert said as he stood up and moved to the sideboard to pour himself another cup of coffee. "Unbelievably reckless. I never joined his table, though. He seemed too pathetically desperate. Makes a man feel dashed uncomfortable. Didn't realize the man had a family."

"Nor did he," the dowager snarled as she held out her cup for Robert to refill. "When Catherine died, I decided I would ask Emily to come live with me here in Bath as my companion. I admit it was impulsive. As you say, I've never had need of a companion. But I haven't regretted it. Emily has been a joy to have around. And, believe it or not, my dear, I really am getting older and unfortunately slowing down a bit. I have found that it is really quite helpful to have a companion."

"It's a touching story. Grandmother," Robert said as he sipped his coffee. "But, I suspect, incomplete. No offense, my dear, but I have never known you to be particularly charitable toward your fellow man. In fact, I am sure I have heard you more than once tell me that your opinion of humanity was so low that—"

"Oh, hush!" the dowager snapped. "Surely I can offer help to one well-bred but impoverished female without having my motives questioned?"

"On the contrary. I know you too well, my dear. I believe you must have other plans for the lovely but impoverished Miss Townsend."

"Hmph!" the dowager snorted in reply.

Robert continued to glare at her in that piercing way he had often found to be most effective, and she finally sighed in resignation.

"Well," she began slowly, straightening the lace at her sleeves, not daring to look at Robert, "I thought that being here in Bath would give her an opportunity to get out more in Society. Perhaps meet some nice gentleman .. ."

"Oho! Now we get to the core of the matter," Robert interrupted. "You old fraud, you are acting as matchmaker!"

"And so what if I am?" she cried defensively. "Emily is not meant for the lonely life of a paid companion or governess. She is lovely and intelligent and well educated and charming. She is not bred for the shelf, my boy. I declare, if her father had provided her a come-out Season, she would have taken on the instant."

"You astound me, ma'am. You have deceived me all these years into believing that matchmaking games were beneath you."

"And so they always have been, Robert. I find no joy in interfering in other people's lives. But I tell you, this girl is special. It honestly pains me to see her reduced to such a life. I want to help her."

A rustle beneath the table made Robert aware of Charlemagne's presence. He reached down for the pug, placed him on his lap, and began to scratch him behind the ears. The pug panted with pleasure. Robert returned his attention to his grandmother. "Is Miss Townsend aware of your true purpose?" he asked.

"I believe she suspected at first," she replied. "She knew that I was aware of her background and made me promise to keep it to myself, as you must do, Robert. She also made it plain that she was content to be an employee and did not seek to improve her station in life. She is a very proud young woman and fully believes that a female of her circumstances cannot afford to cherish dreams of Society. That is why, if I ever find the right candidate, I must be as circumspect as possible and orchestrate matters so that they appear the most natural of situations."

"And how is the campaign progressing?" Robert asked. "Sir Percy certainly seemed smitten, although it would be highly uncharacteristic for him to pursue an impoverished companion with any sort of honorable intentions. A squint-eyed heiress, perhaps. The man's always been under the hatches. He's not truly a serious candidate, is he?"

"Good heavens, no," the dowager snapped. "At least, I hope not. Emily would be better off alone than with that old bird." She caught Robert's eye, and they, both chuckled. "Besides, Percy has apparently experienced a reversal of fortune. He came into unexpected funds about a year ago. Can't recall the circumstances precisely. An inheritance or something, I suspect."

"Indeed?"

"But as to your question regarding the 'campaign,' " continued the dowager, "although I have little experience in these matters, I believe she is a truly difficult subject. I have tried to introduce one or two eligible gentlemen to her acquaintance, but she shows no interest. Oh, I realize she is all wrapped up in her station as an employee, but she is making it deuced difficult for me to help elevate that station. She seldom looks up from her needlework when we have callers and barely speaks when she joins a dinner party."

"And yet she was quite lively last evening," Robert said.

"She is more comfortable with a small, intimate group, which, as you know, is
not
my usual style. And she knew all the guests quite well, which put her naturally at her ease. Not to mention that
you
were at the top of your game last night, Robert. No female can be expected to resist such charm! And that is just the problem. There is no one in Bath with half your address. Bath is full of dullards and dotards, mediocre males, the lot of them. I declare, I don't know why I stay in this town, since it's been taken over by retired civil servants and middle class merchants. I cannot bring myself to foist one of them off on poor Emily. Yet that's all we seem to have here in Bath. There are few eligible men of our own class, to be sure, and certainly no young, handsome fellows in the entire town." She grinned with a coquettishness quite astonishing for a woman of her years. "Believe me, I would be the first to know it if there were."

"Ah, but you will soon take her to London, where the field is much wider," Robert replied, adding a conspiratorial wink.

"Ha! You're on to me. Robert, my dear boy, you are as intelligent as you are handsome. What a pity that you are now to be leg-shackled. I declare, you would have been a perfect match for my Emily."

Robert raised a quizzical brow. "Indeed. A pity."

The dowager waved away the thought with her long-fingered hand. "It is of no consequence. We will find a more eligible
parti
for Emily, never you fear. Despite her circumstances and her age, I believe she could still take. I will keep my eyes open for those elusive eligible bachelors with comfortable fortunes. He must be well enough set up so that Emily's lack of fortune will be of no consideration. And, since she is not precisely in her first blush of youth, he should be appropriately mature. But he must have his wits about him! Emily has a sharp mind and mustn't be saddled with a fool. Perhaps you can be of assistance, Robert. Surely you have friends who might fit the bill?"

"I will put my mind to it," he said, grinning at the enthusiasm with which the dowager faced her new project. He might be able to enjoy a little diversion himself by falling in with her plans. He began ticking off a mental list of suitable friends in Town.

"And she is, of course, quite lovely," the dowager was saying when Robert's attention was drawn back to their conversation, "despite her efforts to hide that fact. If only I could convince her to update her wardrobe before we go to Town. The poor girl looks such a dowd in those tired old gowns. Unfortunately I can't simply present her with a pile of new dresses. She is so stiff-necked, you see, about not accepting any gifts from me outside of her regular salary. She will, though, stitch up an occasional new gown if presented with the odd bolt of fabric. But always something plain and serviceable, never the least fashionable."

"So I noticed," Robert said as he absently stroked Charlemagne's back. "Well, perhaps you can convince her that when in London she would do you a disservice to appear so plainly dressed. After all, the entertainments as well as the company will be much more
à la mode
than she is accustomed to in Bath. Make her believe that she owes it to you to look more fashionable. Perhaps she can be made to feel guilty enough so that she will allow you to have a gown or two made up for her by one of your London modistes."

"My boy, you amaze me. You are more like me than I ever imagined. I shall do it!"

"And maybe the hair, a little softer on the face ..."

The dowager smiled.

* * *

That evening the dowager asked Emily to come to her room before she retired. Iris, the dowager's abigail, answered Emily's knock and led her to the dowager's bed, where the old woman was propped up on at least a dozen pillows, wearing a frothy lace bed jacket. Steel-gray curls peeked out from beneath a fetching lace cap. Charlemagne, curled cozily at her feet, was snoring quietly. Iris left, and the dowager asked Emily to pull up a chair next to the bed as she wished to have a particular conversation with her. Emily did so and, after being seated, said, "Do you wish to review the London preparations, my lady?"

"Yes, my dear, I do," the dowager said in her usual drawl. "There is one item of preparation we have not discussed, as I had not wished to upset you. But I do not have time for roundaboutation, so I will speak plainly if you do not mind."