Suzanne Allain - Incognito

“I have another treat in store for you, young lady.”

“Oh, really?” Emily replied absently, still watching Williams’s progress across the room. “What is that?”

“I am having a a visit from my niece, Lady Cynthia Sommers. You will want to meet her. She could definitely smarten you up.” Emily wondered that Lady Abernathy dared to criticize her appearance, as Lady Abernathy was no nonpareil in that area, either. Her favorite color appeared to be a quite unbecoming mixture of brown and gray. “Quite the fashion plate, my niece,” Lady Abernathy continued in her stentorian voice. “Has all the London bucks chasing after her. She could definitely teach you a thing or two, young lady.”

Emily was embarrassed to have Lady Abernathy proclaim in front of Mr. Williams that she needed someone to help her attract beaux, but he hardly seemed to have heard. At the very mention of the name Lady Cynthia, a dismayed look appeared on his face, and he halted abruptly. He regained his composure almost immediately and took the seat next to Emily.

Alexander was quite perturbed, however, to hear that Lady Cynthia was coming to Stonehurst. They had enjoyed an enjoyable flirtation last season, until the lady had made it very clear she would not be averse to something more. He had spent the end of the season last year and the beginning of this one avoiding her. He assuredly had not expected to run into her in this little backwater. He assumed she would be enjoying the height of the season. Could she have heard somehow he was in Stonehurst? It was not an impossibility. He had sent his father a note before he left, explaining that he was leaving for Stonehurst at the earliest opportunity to make Miss Smithfield’s acquaintance. It was entirely conceivable that the news had spread. He would have to think later how he would deal with her presence, but, for now, Lady Abernathy had resumed conversation with Lady Smithfield, and this was his opportunity to speak to Emily.

“I found our earlier conversation very interesting, Miss Smithfield.”

“As did I, Mr. Williams. I wished to discuss the matter with you further.” Emily felt she might have been a trifle bold, but Mr. Williams just smiled.

“Good. For I must admit I had a similar goal in mind when I approached you. I feel that a gentleman such as my friend Sedgewick, a gentleman with such serious responsibilities, could only benefit by having a partner and helper. A proper wife can be the making of a man, don’t you agree, Miss Smithfield?”

“I am in complete agreement. Your friend needs a compassionate and caring wife, who will assist him in his parish duties and provide a good example to others.”

“I take it from your matchmaking attempt earlier this evening you feel that your sister meets those qualifications.”

“Well, perhaps I should not say so to a near stranger, but I must admit they seem well suited.”

“You can trust me, Miss Smithfield, for I have Sedgewick’s best interests at heart. And somehow I feel that I know you very well, although our acquaintance has been of short duration. There is a candid, honest quality about you that is quite refreshing.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Williams, but my mother is more forthright in her description of me. The quality you describe so prettily as ‘candid and honest’ she more accurately characterizes as ‘a sad lack of delicacy.’”

“Then your mother does you an injustice. Please believe me when I tell you that I do not find you lacking.”

Emily was so unused to compliments that she barely knew how to react. She decided it would be best just to change the subject, although she meant to hone her skills at flirtation before the marquess arrived. That thought reminded her of the goal at hand, which she had been in imminent danger of forgetting. Mr. Williams’s gorgeous brown eyes were proving a formidable distraction. “As you appreciate candor, I will tell you truthfully that I wish to enlist your help in throwing Lydia and Mr. Sedgewick together. I was hoping you could also tell me if you have any reason to believe Mr. Sedgewick holds my sister in esteem.”

Alexander wondered again why Emily was so determined for her sister to marry a vicar. He had his own reasons for wishing for the match, but why would Emily wish her sister to make such an inferior match from a worldly standpoint? Had she taken him in dislike before even meeting him? He found that notion displeased him for some reason, but then again, what did it matter if it left him free? Emily was still waiting for him to reply, and he felt it would do no harm to give her his true opinion.

“He has not confided in me, of course, but I could not help but notice he appears to admire her. I believe he would not be at all averse to a match if he believed it to be possible. I think that is his secret hope, but he feels she is above his touch, and so has tried to put the thought out of his mind.” Emily nodded, delighted with this bit of news. She had felt much the same way herself, but was pleased to have it confirmed. “And your sister, Miss Smithfield? Do you have reason to believe she’s partial to Mr. Sedgewick?”

“Yes, I do. That is why I’m determined to see them together.” Emily looked at him, considering how much to confide in him. The look in his warm brown eyes must have convinced her, because she continued. “You see, there is another gentleman, with greater advantages from a material and social standpoint, whom my mother would prefer to see Lydia marry. But I do not think such things should be a consideration when two people truly love one another, do you?”

If asked that question even a day previously, Alexander would have laughed and scoffed at the idea of love being a prerequisite of marriage. In his social circle, men and women married to achieve greater social standing and wealth. He knew very few that married for love. But looking now at Emily, who was waiting innocently for a reply, he surprised himself with his answer. “I, too, feel that none of those considerations should matter when compared with the feelings of two people toward one another,” he told her. He was rewarded by a bright smile from Emily, which made him feel guilty for holding such cynical views in the past.

Lady Smithfield, who had greater ambitions for Emily now that her sister was making so creditable a match, was displeased to see her paying such close attention to a penniless curate. What had she been thinking to invite him for dinner? He was much too attractive. She called Emily away on some fictitious errand, but before the evening was over, Emily and Alexander were able to arrange an “accidental” meeting the next day in the village, with Lydia and Sedgewick in tow.

Over breakfast the next morning, Emily and Lydia were alarmed to hear their mother announce the arrival of another missive from the duke of Alford.

Lady Smithfield eagerly scanned the letter while her daughters silently waited. “How peculiar,” Lady Smithfield finally said, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “The duke writes that Lord Wesleigh left London for Stonehurst Friday last week. Stonehurst is only a four-hour trip from London. He should have arrived by now. I hope he did not suffer an accident along the way.”

Emily was relieved. Whatever was delaying Wesleigh she hoped it continued to delay him for at least another sennight. She needed more time to push Lydia’s romance along. She doubted even a sennight would be long enough, but it was better than nothing.

Lydia was guilt-stricken. She was sure her hope that Wesleigh would meet with an accident had been fulfilled. How could she have been so evil as to wish bad on her fellowman? If Wesleigh arrived this instant, she would gladly marry him, if only as penance for the wicked thoughts she’d entertained toward him.

Lady Smithfield, who had continued to read the duke’s letter, interrupted her daughters’ tempestuous thoughts to make another announcement. “Oh, my. Oh, my! Lydia, Emily, the duke of Alford is coming here! He will arrive Tuesday evening next week. There is barely enough time to prepare! I must consult with Cook, and the Green Suite must be prepared, oh, heavens, there is so much to do. A duke, in my house. Who would have ever thought it? There is not a moment to lose.” Lady Smithfield hurried from the dining room, while Lydia and Emily looked at each other in amazement.

Lydia broke the silence at last by announcing with a look of grim determination on her pretty face: “I think, Emily, that it’s my duty to marry Lord Wesleigh.”

“That is nonsense. Marriage should not be undertaken as a matter of duty. Just because you are too in awe of the duke to tell him that you do not wish to marry his son does not mean you should spend the rest of your life in misery. And not only you, but what of Sedgewick? And Wesleigh? They will both be miserable as well. Why, I’d say it’s your duty not to go through with this sham of a marriage.”

Lydia seemed much struck by this argument, as Emily hoped she would be. Her sister was a very obedient, dutiful girl, and it went against her nature to rebel against anything. But if Emily were to convince her a match with Sedgewick was the right thing to do, she might just be able to pull it off.

“Just think, Lydia, you will have to pledge before God that you will love, honor, and obey your husband. It would be a lie, feeling as you do about Sedgewick. You would not want to lie, would you Lydia?”

“I had not thought of it in that respect. You’re right, Emily. That would be sinful. But if you married Lord Wesleigh, you would have to make the same vows. How could you do it?”

Emily had not expected to have her logic thrown back in her face. “If I were to make that vow, it would not be a lie, as I do not love any other gentleman, and I plan to do all in my power to make Lord Wesleigh a good wife,” she finally managed to reply.

Lydia seemed satisfied with that response, but Emily continued to think about Lydia’s question long after the conversation had ended. It was true that her heart did not belong to another, but she felt without very much effort she could lose it to Mr. Williams. He was so very attractive. When she spoke with him she felt an excitement that she had never known before. Could she marry a man who didn’t make her pulse flutter like Mr. Williams did, whose eyes did not hold the sparkle and life that she saw in his? Then again, could she marry a man who did not even have a home to take her to, a penniless curate who seemed to be making little effort to advance? No. It was foolish to fall in love with such a man. Once Sedgewick’s attachment to Lydia was assured, she would have no need to seek out Mr. Williams’s company, and she would continue with her original plan of convincing Lord Wesleigh to have her as a wife, instead of Lydia.

Satisfied to have reached a proper conclusion to her dilemma, although unable to account for her sudden lowering of spirits, Emily sought out Lydia. It was time to convince her to walk with her to the village to buy some ribbons.

Emily had felt a pleasurable tinge of guilt the previous evening, making an assignation with Mr. Williams to meet him on the High Street in the morning, and she was experiencing a similar excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. She sternly told herself to stop being foolish, but she could barely school her features into an expression of calm disinterest when she saw him. Turning toward Lydia, she said as nonchalantly as she could manage: “Look there, Lydia. Mr. Sedgewick appears to be walking this way with his friend, Mr. Williams.”