Candice Hern (10 page)

Emily burrowed deeper into her featherbed, chuckling quietly as she contemplated the unexpected turns her life was taking. Not only had she allowed the dowager to provide her with an expensive new wardrobe as well as a personal maid, but she had even agreed to let Tuttle to take scissors to her hair. Granted, she had allowed no more than for Tuttle to give her softer, shorter tendrils around her face, but the effect was one of dramatic change from the ruthless knot she had worn for so long. Tuttle had wanted to make more drastic changes, giving Emily a fashionable short cropped style. But Emily had refused to part with her long, heavy locks.

She still believed that all of these superficial changes were no more than a silly feminine indulgence, but she also experienced a strange new confidence, knowing that she looked well. And she needed all the confidence she could manufacture, as her mind was in a turmoil about what to expect in London. It was not the normal social activities of a London Season that filled her with anticipation, although that alone would have been sufficient to set her head to spinning. Rather, it was thoughts of the dowager's particular circle and their activities that provided Emily with the greater thrill of excitement. She knew that the dowager kept up a lively correspondence with many writers, artists, poets, and politicians. In fact, it seemed to Emily that Lady Bradleigh had at least a passing acquaintance with almost everyone of note in English Society. She fully expected, and had received hints of confirmation from the dowager and the earl, that she might happen to meet many notables as they passed through the drawing room of Bradleigh House.

At least her fine new feathers provided a certain level of confidence to face whatever lay ahead, even if that did include the matchmaking schemes of her employer. This thought brought a troubled frown to her face. Heavens, how had she ever allowed herself to be so thoroughly manipulated? She had no wish to be paraded before the
ton
as an aging spinster with no fortune, hanging out for a husband. But after all, she
had
promised Lord Bradleigh that he might introduce her to a few of his friends. He had even pulled her aside for a brief private conversation yesterday, after the dowager had left the breakfast table.

"Miss Townsend," he had said as he led her by the arm to a window seat overlooking the busy square below, "I wanted to give you one final word of reassurance before we arrive in London. Regarding Grandmother's matchmaking schemes, that is."

Emily had tensed. Dear God, would they never leave her in peace?

"It is true," the earl continued, "that I agreed to provide introductions to a few fine fellows, but I assure you I will have no further involvement in the matter. And I will do my best to steer Grandmother away if I see her meddling. Any further developments," he said in that infuriatingly seductive tone he sometimes used, "will be up to you and the gentleman."

Emily had felt the heat of a blush color her face. He had spoken briefly on other topics which she could not now remember. She had not, however, forgotten that as he rose to take her leave, he had laid his hand over hers and gently squeezed it. It had been a gesture of friendship and support; but it had nevertheless left her momentarily discomposed.

Emily was very pleased to have made a friend of Lord Bradleigh, though she had been quite unprepared for his kindness and generosity. She knew that he recognized her anxiety over the dowager's matchmaking, and she appreciated his reassurances.

She had never really had a man for a friend before now. She was glad he was engaged to be married, for she doubted she would have been so comfortable in his presence otherwise. He would have probably flirted outrageously with her, and she would have retreated into an embarrassed silence. She did, though, find herself on occasion pondering what it might have been like to be the object of the earl's flirtations.

But he was betrothed, and so now all she had to worry about were those friends of his.

She pounded her pillow into a more comfortable shape and crawled deeper into the billowy mattress. She was a goose to worry so over nothing. The earl was right. She would politely acknowledge any introductions and then simply fade into the background, as always, unnoticed.

She finally drifted into sleep convinced that she would acquit herself well enough and would not bring shame upon herself or her employer.

Chapter 7

Two days later the dowager's impressive entourage pulled up in front of Bradleigh House in Grosvenor Square. The trip from Bath had proceeded without incident, despite the size of the traveling party. The earl had led the way in his curricle with his tiger perched behind. He was followed by a large, elegant traveling chaise with the Bradleigh crest emblazoned on the doors, housing the dowager, Emily, and Tuttle. A second carriage held Iris, Lottie, and George, a footman whose sole responsibility was the care of Charlemagne. A third carriage brought Luckett, Anatole, and Lucien. Yet a fourth carriage was overloaded with assorted trunks and baggage. Several outriders had been engaged to protect the travelers. Emily now understood the dowager's reluctance to leave Bath, since this grand production appeared to be her normal mode of travel.

The procession of vehicles had created such a spectacle upon departure that it had been forced to move slowly toward the outskirts of Bath. Scores of people, primarily children, had lined the roads at every turn gazing at the elegant entourage. Most assumed that such extravagance must be commanded by no less than one of the royal dukes, and so there was much waving and cheering as the carriages passed. Their slow pace had continued until they had passed through Melksham, at which time the horses were finally given their heads.

The journey had been carefully arranged by the earl to ensure his grandmother's comfort. Stopovers at the White Hart in Marlborough for luncheon and at the Crown in Reading for the night had been meticulously planned in advance so that both inns were well prepared for the weary travelers, with their best meals and their best accommodations.

As Emily had never been to London, she was filled with barely suppressed excitement as the carriages had made their way toward the city. It can't be much farther, she thought, just as one of the outriders pulled up alongside the window of their carriage, signaling for them to draw the curtains. Emily turned to the dowager and raised her brows in question, as Tuttle pulled shut the heavy velvet hangings over the windows.

"Hampstead," the dowager said.

Emily felt her stomach knot with tension. Hampstead Heath! Good heavens, she had forgotten that they would have to pass along this notoriously dangerous stretch of road. Even in the daytime the heavily wooded heath was dark and secluded, a perfect setting for highwaymen. Some of the most infamous "gentlemen," including Dick Turpin and Tom King, had worked Hampstead Heath. Surely the dowager's entourage, with its obvious stamp of wealth and position, would be likely targets for such rogues. She braced herself for the inevitable "Stand and deliver!" Her face must have registered her distress, as the dowager reached over and patted her hand.

"Don't worry, my girl," the dowager said. "We are well protected by Robert and the outriders. Besides," she said, grabbing her reticule, "I always come prepared."

Emily followed her glance and gave a start as she saw a small pearl-handled pistol peeking out from the tiny reticule. She looked up to find the dowager grinning and Tuttle furiously scowling. The situation was so ludicrous that she could not hold back her laughter. She felt her previous tension melt away as she and the dowager fell against each other, giggling like schoolgirls. For the next several miles, even after the outrider had tapped on the window with an "all clear" signal, Emily and the dowager took turns making up stories about intrepid women saving the travelers from the clutches of vicious highwaymen.

When at last they reached London proper, Emily's first impressions of crowded, noisy streets, foul-smelling smoky air, and filthy tenements caused some apprehension. Once they had skirted Hyde Park headed toward Mayfair, she began to relax a bit. Even though there were many elegant residential squares and crescents in Bath, Emily had not expected anything so grand as the enormous houses they passed as they moved along Park Lane. The dowager pointed out Holfernesse House near Hyde Park Corner, and the imposing Grosvenor House at Grosvenor Street.

"I have always known it as Gloucester House," she said to Emily, "as it was the home of the Duke of Gloucester for decades. Not too many years ago, it was bought by the Earl of Grosvenor, who has apparently spent a fortune renovating the interior. I've not seen it myself, of course, since I haven't been to Town in years. But I've heard various reports of either its supreme elegance or its overblown vulgarity. I shall have to arrange an invitation and judge for myself."

They soon turned into Upper Brook Street headed toward Grosvenor Square, which immediately reminded Emily of Queen Square in Bath, where her friend Lady Mary lived. The square was surrounded on all four sides with elegant town houses. Although each was obviously designed separately and therefore did not have the uniformity of style found in Queen Square or Laura Place, there was nevertheless a sense of familiarity that comforted Emily. The square itself was actually a small circular park laid out in a geometrical design of formal gardens and enclosed by a wrought-iron fence with elaborate gates in the center of each block. Emily eyed her new surroundings with pleasure.

The carriages pulled up in front of a large town house in the middle of the western side of the square. It was of gray stone and was distinguished by a classical pediment over the large doorway supported by two Doric columns on either side. There were three rows of windows above, the second row echoing the entrance, with small pediments over each window.

Lord Bradleigh's faster curricle had arrived a few minutes before the other carriages, so that by the time the dowager's chaise pulled to a stop, liveried footmen and grooms had spilled onto the street to assist the new arrivals. Although a footman placed a step beneath the door of the dowager's carriage, it was the earl who assisted first his grandmother and then Emily to the ground.

"Welcome back to Bradleigh House, Grandmother," the earl said as he took the dowager's arm to lead her toward the front door. "It has been far too long since you have honored us with your presence."

Emily and Tuttle walked behind, while their fellow travelers also disembarked. Emily was busy admiring the elegant facade of Bradleigh House and was therefore oblivious to the frenzied activity of unloading the carriages that took place behind her. They were ushered to the spacious entry hall, where they were met by a tall silver-haired man with a stiff military bearing, who was introduced as Claypool, the butler. Emily was also introduced to Mrs. Claypool, the housekeeper, who led the way up the gently curving stairway to the third level, where the bedroom suites were located. Emily smiled as she realized that even amidst all the confusion, Lottie, taking her new duties very seriously, had followed unobtrusively behind and had commandeered a footman to help carry up some of the more portable baggage.

Mrs. Claypool signaled to Lottie, indicating which room had been assigned to Emily, while she escorted the dowager to her suite. Lottie held the door open, and Emily entered the large sunny room which was to be her home for the next several weeks. Lottie quickly scrutinized the room and gave the footman instructions on where to place the portmanteaux. He immediately hurried from the room to help with the rest of the baggage.

" 'Tis a lovely room, miss," Lottie said as she helped Emily out of her pelisse and bonnet.

"Yes," Emily responded distractedly as she surveyed the spacious room. It was indeed one of the loveliest rooms she had ever had the pleasure to occupy. It was decorated in various hues of green, rose pink, and white and was dominated by a large bed covered in a fine white silk counterpane embroidered with garlands of ivy leaves. Most of the furniture was of dark wood, and Emily recognized the elegant lines of Sheraton. She found that she was immediately comfortable in this obviously English room, so reminiscent of her mother's taste. It suddenly occurred to her how truly uncomfortable she had always felt among the elaborate gilded French furnishings which the dowager preferred.

She sighed with pleasure as she looked around the room. The far wall was dominated by large three-quarter-length paned windows overlooking the square below. The shutters were open and the curtains thrown back so that the room was bathed in sunlight.

She was overwhelmed. Surely this elegant room was too grand for someone in her position, although at the same time it appeared remarkably comfortable and cozy. She wondered if Lord Bradleigh had commissioned a project of redecoration, or did the charm and cheerfulness of the room reflect his late mother's taste? In any case, it was delightful, and since Mrs. Claypool had been precise in directing her and Lottie to this room, she must assume that there had been no mistake.

A knock on the door heralded the arrival of two footmen carrying a large heavy trunk, which Emily knew contained her new wardrobe. While Lottie began to unpack, Emily stepped across the hall to the dowager's suite, to make sure that she was settling in comfortably.

The dowager's suite of rooms, consisting of bedroom, dressing room, and sitting room, was more formal, more ornate in decor than her own. Perhaps this suite was always held in readiness for Lady Bradleigh and therefore reflected her special taste. Shades of blue predominated, and the furniture was all of either light woods or painted in gilt. The large bed was draped with a tall tent-like structure of royal blue satin with gold embroidery. Although Emily much preferred the room she had been assigned, she did admire the prospect of the large garden which the dowager's rooms commanded.

Iris and Tuttle appeared to have things well under control. "I am going to have a brief rest before tea," the dowager told Emily. "I am thoroughly exhausted from bouncing around like a rag doll for two days. Go ahead, my dear, and have a rest yourself, and I will see you in a few hours for tea."