The Demure Debutante - a Regency Novella (2 page)

When the carriage stopped, Arthur rushed forward with the Bath chair. Edward tucked an arm around Willow's and led her to the carriage, where Emilia Harcourt was timidly peering out the window. When Arthur opened the carriage door, Emilia drew a sharp breath. Her hands were trembling at the prospect of meeting her brother's lady love, so she tucked them behind her back.

“Good day, madam,” Arthur politely greeted the mother, then turned his attention to Emilia. “Miss.”

A smile appeared between Augusta's plump cheeks. “And who is this handsome gentleman?”

“Arthur Rochefort, your servant,” Arthur said with a bow. “I am Wilomena's brother. It is a pleasure to meet you. I would like to help you into the Bath chair, if I may?”

“Absolutely!” Augusta held out her arms to Willow's handsome brother, who lifted the older woman out of the carriage and gently placed her in the Bath chair. As soon as she was in the chair, she said, “As beautiful as you are, being in your arms is the most exciting thing that's happened to me in over a decade! Now... where is my son's fiance?”

Willow, whose body was rigid with uncharacteristic shyness, stepped forward and bobbed a curtsy. “It is good to finally meet you, Mrs. Harcourt. Edward has told me much about you.”

“Oh my!” Augusta's hand flew to her mouth. “
You
are my son's fiance?!”

“Yes...” Willow did not know what to make of the woman's reaction, so she slid a nervous glance at Edward. “I am Wilomena Worthington.”

“Oh my!” Augusta repeated. “The sister is just as beautiful as the brother! What a handsome family you are! I can see my son has done well for himself! You will have to tell me how Edward managed to woo such a lovely woman! To be honest, I did not think he had it in him!”

When Emilia started to alight from the carriage on her own, Arthur swept forward and held out his arm. Poor, shy Emilia could not move, for she was paralyzed by the sight of him. Her mother was not saying it in jest—Arthur Rochefort was exceptionally handsome, quite possibly the most handsome man she had ever seen. His rich brown hair was thick and adorably mussed. He had the most prominent cheekbones she had ever seen, full lips, a chiseled jaw, and intense blue eyes. His face was slightly scruffy and unkempt, which put her in mind of a rogue, a handsome highwayman, or a gentleman pirate. Emilia wanted to laugh at her mind's fanciful musings, so she tightened her lips to suppress any giggles.

“My lady?” Arthur continued to hold out his arm. “May I help you down from the carriage?”

“Oh... of course.” Emilia, finally regaining the use of her petrified appendages, took Arthur's arm and climbed from the carriage. When she was on her feet, she was pleasantly surprised that Arthur Rochefort was actually taller than she was, at least by a few inches. Remembering her traveling companion, Emilia turned toward the carriage and exclaimed, “Oh! My cat!”

“Your cat?” Arthur repeated.

“Mr. Fibbles,” Emilia said. “He's somewhere in the carriage. He hates to travel, so I imagine he might be hiding beneath the seat...”

As Arthur climbed into the carriage to collect her feline, Emilia turned her attention to Wilomena, who was much more beautiful than she expected. With her ivory skin and ebony tresses, she looked like some sort Roman goddess. Emilia caught her brother's gaze and gave him a nod of approval.

“And you are Emilia?” Willow asked.

“Yes...” Emilia squeaked a timid reply. When she saw Arthur alight from the carriage with Mr. Fibbles, her mind was momentarily frozen. There was something awe-inspiring about the sight of a ridiculously handsome man cradling a cat like a baby. “Um... and you are Wilomena Worthington?” Emilia's thoughtless words made her wince. The widow had already introduced herself as such—Emilia did not want to give her the impression that she was not paying attention.

“Yes. But please, call me Willow,” she suggested. “I am glad to meet you... you
and
your mother.”

“So, what do you see in our Ed?” Augusta asked, which earned her a scowl from her son.

“Edward is the kindest man in the world,” Willow explained. “He has a good heart, he's charming, he's awkward... but in a way that is absolutely endearing. Not to mention, he has beautiful eyes and a wonderful smile.”

“Hmm,” Augusta mused. “You almost make him sound appealing!”

“Mother!” Edward groaned. “Have you no love for me at all?”

“Oh, Ed, I am only jesting. Willow is lucky to have you, I am sure.” Augusta held out her arms to her son, who gave her a reluctant embrace. Then the mother turned her attention back to Arthur, who was still holding Mr. Fibbles. “And I still cannot believe how handsome
you
are, sir! It is almost unbelievable. Are you a bachelor?”

“I am.” Arthur stroked the cat's head as he replied. Mr. Fibbles was purring so loudly in his arms, everyone surrounding him could hear it.

“Do you hear that, Emilia?!” The mother gave her daughter a gentle nudge. “A perfectly eligible bachelor is right under our noses!”

“
Mother
!” Emilia shrieked. All of a sudden, she was wishing she could hide in the carriage with Mr. Fibbles. Her face was so inflamed by her mother's words, Emilia swore she could feel her cheekbones melting.

“Really, Mother, you should learn to mind your tongue! Poor Emilia...” Edward said. He wrapped an arm around Willow's back and took a step toward Sanborne Hall, hoping everyone would follow. “We have some refreshments prepared... tea and biscuits. Why don't we go inside?”

“A smashing idea!” Augusta exclaimed.

Arthur handed Mr. Fibbles to Emilia and proceeded to steer Augusta's Bath chair toward the house. Willow and Edward led the way, arm-in-arm. Emilia trailed behind everyone; she nuzzled Mr. Fibbles and prayed she could end the day with her dignity intact. She was standing directly behind Arthur, and was surprised to find her gaze traveling to his rear end. He had an athletic build, and his back side looked splendid in his tight breeches. Emilia usually did not notice that sort of thing, but where Arthur Rochefort was concerned, it was impossible
not
to notice.

Emilia followed everyone to a sitting room, where the servants immediately presented them with tea and a wide assortment of biscuits. Emilia nibbled a biscuit and sipped her tea, but most of her attention was focused on Mr. Fibbles, who was watching her biscuit with envy. It was much easier to stare at a cat than it was to make eye contact with another human being.

“So, you were married before, Willow?” Augusta inquired.

“I was... but my marriage was brief, and my husband was much older than I was,” Willow said.

“How much older?”

“There was a chasm between our ages,” Willow said. “I was seventeen, and he was nearly fifty.” Willow looked over at Edward, who was surprised to hear the news. Her husband's age was a topic she had yet to discuss with her new fiance.

Augusta pursed her lips. “
I
am nearly fifty! Now I am feeling quite old!”

“I would not want to make you feel old, Mrs. Harcourt!” Willow exclaimed. “I was not saying my husband was old, only that he was much older than I was.”

“Well... do not feel bad, Willow. I know I am in my dotage,” Augusta said with a sigh. “Old age happens to the best of us, I am afraid. Even my daughter, as young as she is, will find herself beset with wrinkles one day!”

“Thank you for reminding me, Mother.” Emilia looked up and rolled her eyes, and when she did, she caught Arthur Rochefort staring at her. As soon as she met his gaze, he quickly looked away. Then her eyes traveled to Edward, who was staring at his fiance with obvious admiration.

Her brother was in love.

His devotion to Wilomena Worthington was as plain as day; his sentiments were practically pouring from his adoring eyes.

If only someone would love me like that
, Emilia thought with a sigh.

“ACHOO!”

The sudden sharpness of Augusta Harcourt's sneeze made Emilia's body jolt with alarm. In the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur whip out a handkerchief and hand it to her mother, who was smiling at him like an enchanted schoolgirl.

He
is
handsome
, Emilia thought to herself.
Amazingly handsome. It is almost unreal.
Then she caught Arthur's gaze again, and Emilia's heart tumbled in her chest. It was the second time she caught him staring at her.

Was she foolish to hope?

Chapter Three

Emilia was daydreaming about Arthur when she heard the knock on the door. She was glad to be rescued from her thoughts, as nonsensical as they were. Arthur Rochefort was impossibly handsome and improbably perfect—dreaming about him was a waste of time, since he wasn't likely to spare her a second thought.

When Emilia opened the door, Willow was standing on the other side with a puppy in her hands. The mangy terrier mix was squirming in her arms, desperate to make the new girl's acquaintance. As soon as Willow set the puppy on its feet, it ran to Emilia and proceeded to lick her feet.

“Good evening,” Willow greeted her.

“Good... evening,” Emilia shyly responded. Their awkwardly exchanged greetings were followed by a period of silence. Conversing with another woman was much easier than conversing with a man, and yet, she did not know what to say to her brother's fiance.

“Do you mind if I come in?” Willow asked. “If we are to be sisters, I would like to get to know you.”

“Certainly.” Emilia stepped out of the doorway and went to her bed. The puppy stayed on her heels, licking her wherever its pink tongue could reach. Unfortunately, Emilia had long since removed her slippers, and now her feet were covered in dog spittle.

“I'm sorry about Eddie,” Willow said.

“Eddie? Edward?!”

“Oh... no.” Willow answered with a chuckle. “Eddie is the name of my puppy.”

“Oh.” When Emilia sat on the end of her bed, the puppy desperately tried to follow her. But making it to the bed was more than his tiny legs could manage. Eddie stared up at her, longingly, wishing he could join her on the bed. “So you named your puppy after my brother?”

“I did,” Willow confessed. “Actually, it was your brother who gave me the puppy. At the time, it seemed like a proper namesake.”

“Do you...” Being a very cautious speaker, Emilia hesitated. She always took extra time to consider her words. “Do you like my brother?”

“I do! Very much!” Willow exclaimed. “He is not like other men, and I mean that in the best possible way. While other men are aggressive and vain, Edward is docile and humble. He makes me smile, and he's quite cute.”

“He's a good man,” Emilia agreed.

“That he is.” Willow looked down at Eddie, who was circling the bed, wishing he could somehow get to Emilia. When she saw him tugging on the bedsheets with his teeth, Willow shrieked, “Hey! Stop!”

“What is he doing?” Emilia asked, peering off the edge of the bed.

“He's sinking his teeth into the sheets! Eddie!” Willow gently nudged him with her foot. “Eddie, stop! Mind your manners!”

When Eddie released the bedsheets, his tongue sagged. Willow wondered if he was sticking out his tongue at her, or if it was just her imagination.

“He seems like a rascal,” Emilia noted.

“He is. He's the worst!” Willow crossed her arms as she glowered at the mutt. “As dense as he is, he doesn't even know his name!”

“Maybe he'll learn?” Emilia suggested hopefully.

“Perhaps.” Willow turned her attention back to the other girl, whose face was white as the bedsheets Eddie had gobbled. Was Willow wrong to think their social interaction was making her nervous? Without a doubt, Emilia shared her brother's social awkwardness. “So, Emilia, tell me more about yourself. You came from London, did you not? Do you enjoy the city?”

“Yes... and no,” Emilia said. “There is much I
do
enjoy. The history. The atmosphere. However, my aunt keeps dragging me to various social gatherings, and I have hated them all.”

“Really? And why is that?”

Emilia shrugged. She started nibbling on her lip, further demonstrating her shyness. “I... cannot say, really. I... I suppose... well...” Emilia knew the reason for her aversion, but she could not bring herself to say it.
I am a wallflower, I have no suitors, I never dance, I am perpetually ignored...

Willow sensed the girl's need for a change of subject, so she asked, “What do you usually do in your spare time, Emilia?”

“Well... I read. A great deal,” Emilia said.

“As do I,” Willow lied. She had not read a complete novel in at least two years. Not long ago, she had attempted to read a book called
Rob Roy
, since it had been recommended by Edward. Alas, she had recently abandoned it.

“I also enjoy riding horses.”

“As do I!” Willow said again, much more eager this time. “Although, I confess I have no idea how to ride sidesaddle. The last time I tried, it was nearly a tragedy. I almost slipped from the saddle several times!”

“Then how do you ride?” Emilia asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I ride the same way a man rides, in breeches. It is much more comfortable, I assure you,” Willow insisted. “We should go for a ride together, you and I. I can lend you some of my riding clothes.”

“Oh... I... I don't know about that.” Emilia started chewing on her lower lip again. Somewhere below the bed, she heard a soft whimpering noise. Eddie was crying. Emilia felt guilty, so she leaned down, scooped the puppy from the floor, and laid him on the bed. Unfortunately, she forgot to take Mr. Fibbles' presence into account. Her cat was curled up on her pillow, sleeping. As soon as Eddie was on the bed, he ran to the cat and pounced.

Mr. Fibbles was awake in an instant. With a yowl, the cat flew off the pillow and went into hiding under the bed. Not one to be abandoned, Eddie gave chase. When he tried to pursue the cat into the shadows, a furry white paw shot out and clobbered his nose.

“I think your cat has a new nemesis,” Willow observed. Having tired of her puppy's behavior, she scooped him off the floor and cradled him in her arms.

“It certainly seems that way.”