Magical Weddings (87 page)

Illuminated by a strip of moonlight reaching through the window, Drew frowned. “Yet perhaps I would prefer that you did.” He sighed.

Peter stared at him.

“Do you have any affection for Emily?”

“Of course, she is charming. Who would not like Emily?”

“But like is a very shallow emotion on which to choose a wife.”

“Dozens of people choose wives on less than like.”

“Yet a week ago you called it love and she does not seem to even be making you happy.”

“I thought it was love, but I know now I was wrong. Yet I do feel affection…”

“So what exactly is your purpose? Why are you marrying her? You do not need her money. She is beneath you in status. Why choose her?”

“Because Emily is a good woman, who would make a good mother—”

“You have picked her as you would a broodmare then.”

Peter swallowed. “That is harsh.”

“But if it is true it would be unkind to her and you.”

“It is not true. I like Emily.”

“Like. There’s that dull, impartial word again. How many women have you liked since I have known you?”

Hundreds. How many woman had he felt as much as he felt for Lillian? None. And he’d lost her.

“What of your actress?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I said. What of your actress? What do you feel for her? Is it because of her you now deem your feelings for Emily lower, because you feel more for this actress?”

“It does not matter.”

“Yet, what if it does?”

“You are talking nonsense, Drew. I should get back to Emily, the waltz will be over.”

“And she will be dancing with someone else or Harry will have kept her to himself. Have you even noticed the way he looks at her?”

“How does he look at her?” Peter had noticed nothing odd.

Drew laughed. “As though she is the finest racehorse he has ever seen, and no one else has spotted her, and he sees a fortune to be won.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He has feelings for her. Harry looks at Emily as I used to look at Mary.”

“He…”
Damn.
“That is ridiculous.”

“It is not. It is true.”

Emily had been laughing with Harry… “No.”

“Yes.”

“Are you saying he’s been making advances? Harry…”

“No. I am saying he would if you stepped back. He deferred to you, because you have vocally expressed your interest from the first, but he has also said to me he is losing his patience with your ill-temper tonight. Either you wish to be with Emily or you do not. If you do not, you should let her go. Harry would make her happier than you have tonight, and all week, from what Mary has said.”

“When I came to see you, you told me to drop Lillian, or you would tell Emily.”

Drew moved a chair out of the way and leaned his buttocks back onto the empty dining table with a sigh as he also folded his arms over his chest. “I know. But perhaps I gave you the wrong advice. You were always better at advice than I.”

Peter shook his head.

“See, the Peter that I know would have laughed at that and agreed and mocked me. This Peter… Who are you? You remind me of who I was when Mary left me.”

Yes. Drew had been sullen and unsmiling and bloody miserable. That was how Peter felt. Heartbroken, empty inside, and half
fucking
dead.
I miss Lillian
.

“Perhaps I did not listen hard enough when you came to visit me. Were you seeking someone to give you permission to find a way out of your engagement? If I had said it is fine for you to keep the actress, what would you have done?”

“I do not know.” Peter walked across to the table, moved another chair then leaned his buttocks against the table too. He lifted one foot onto the chair and gripped its back. “I did not listen to you anyway. I was going to set her up, buy her a house, lead a double life, and keep it secret from you all. But someone showed Lillian the announcement. I did not even make the offer; she threw me out of her dressing room, and the next day she sent everything I have ever given to her back.” He glanced sideways at Drew. “So you were wrong, she had sold nothing. She even sent me all the cash I had given her.”

“Does she have feelings for you too then?”

“She’s never said so, but then nor have I told her how I feel. It is not the sort of conversation you have with a woman in her situation.”

“No. But if you did decide to have that conversation?”

“Lord. Are you encouraging me now?”

“If it would make you bloody smile again, and stop looking so sour, yes.”

“She will not have me.”

“Have you? You would truly offer for her then…”

Good Lord, Peter had not even heard what he’d said, but he had been thinking of marriage when he’d thought of her saying no. He took a deep breath. “Is that possible?” It was a thought he said aloud.

“It is, I suppose, if you are prepared to work a dozen times harder for her. She will not be welcomed in society, you would not be able to take her anywhere and leave her, no one would speak to her. You would have to help her adjust to her position, with education and such.”

“You’re serious.”

“Weren’t you?”

Yes, he was. “But what of Emily?”

“You are not making her happy. Emily will cope with this. It would be a curse if you married her when there is no deeper feeling there.”

It was true, and damn if it did not make the weight on his shoulders lighter. The longer he’d spent away from Lillian, the more he’d known that what he felt for Emily did not compare. “Yes.” Yes, he would offer for Lillian.

Peter straightened. “I should be honest with Emily and tell her now.”

“You should be honest with her, but is now the best time, when she is in your sister’s home, and this is your engagement ball?”

“I cannot continue to lie. Will you tell Mary and ask her to support Emily?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Mary will understand?”

“Of course. She chose me did she not? I was the worst damned person for her.”

Peter laughed and gripped Drew’s shoulder. “You are perfect for her. Will you come to the theatre with me tomorrow and meet Lillian?”

“Yes.”

****

Emily saw Peter leave the room with Drew as she danced with Harry. He had not returned when the next dance began, or the one after that. Drew must be quizzing Peter about her conversation with Mary. She hoped Drew was doing so sensitively and that Peter had not taken offence.

“Emily.” Harry held out a glass of punch. “Is Peter still not back?”

He rolled his eyes when she smiled.

“Truly you should cut him, he is treating you so appallingly. There are better men.”

“You, I suppose.” She laughed.

“Me, perhaps.”

“You are a terrible flirt.”

Harry sighed in a theatrical way, to make her laugh, then looked across the room. “Peter is back, and Drew must have talked some sense into him. He is smiling.”

Emily looked. He was coming to speak with her, and yes, he was smiling. He looked his old self.

“Peter.”

“Emily.” His smile fell when he reached her. But as he had done for the last few days, he did everything appropriate. He bowed, gripped her fingers and lifted them to his lips, then he straightened. “May I speak to you in private? There is something I must say.”

What about?
The words stuck in her throat. She could not ask; whatever he wished to say made him look solemn again.

Her heartbeat stuttered as she walked across the room beside him, discomfort and awkwardness chasing her. She felt as though everyone stared. How would she fit within a life as Lady Brooke? She was not sure she could.

He led her into a dark dining room, where he must have been with Drew, because two chairs were out of place.

“Emily, I am sorry.”

He did not have to say any more. “It does not matter.” Mary was always telling her she was too timid. She should shout at him.

“Emily.” When she would have turned away, he gripped her hands. “It does matter. I know I am letting you down. You cannot be angrier with me than I am with myself.”

She could be, she would have to walk back into a ball held in their name, after this, to celebrate an engagement that was already over.

“I did not intend it. It is just… I must be honest with you. I met someone else a couple of months ago. It was not by choice. I have tried to fight it, and I have failed… I failed you…”

A tear slipped from her eye. She wiped it away. Why was she crying? She felt a fool, she had been equally afraid of marrying him as she was happy to be his wife. “I am sorry.”

His palms gripped either side of her head. “Do not be silly, what do you have to be sorry for? See, that is why I feel for you, because you are such a wonderful, selfless person, and you do not deserve me, Emily. You told me I had been good to you, when I knew I had not been. I have let you down, and if you married me, I would continue to do so. I cannot do that. It is better I accept who I am and let you find the man who will love you as you ought to be loved.”

More tears came; he wiped them away with his thumbs. “I am truly sorry, Emily.”

She took a breath. “What do we do?”

His thumb brushed her lip as it quivered. “We walk out as though nothing has been said, and we keep it a secret, and you go back to your parents, and we never mention it to a soul, and then you need never feel awkward.”

“What happens when you marry her?”

“It will not be published. She is… She is not like you, Emily. She would not cope with all of this. The world will discover the end of our engagement when you announce your wedding.”

She shook her head. She could not imagine marrying if Peter would not have her; she was not popular as Mary had been. That was why she’d been so flattered and so thrilled when Peter had paid attention to her. That was why she’d fallen for his charm. “I do not love you,” she said.

The room was only lit by the moonlight, and in that moment he moved into the light and it shone across his face. His expression looked stiff, but then he smiled. “I am glad. I have not broken your heart then…”

“But I shall be embarrassed.”

“You should not be. It is I who am embarrassed. You accepted me, with all my battered edges, and I was still not decent enough to be loyal to you. I am ashamed of myself. It is why I have been so miserable.”

Emily sniffed and wiped away the last of her tears. He was right to end this. It had been a wrong decision on both their parts. “You should not feel ashamed. You have been honest with me.” Yet she would not be able to bring herself to walk back into that room. “Would you ask a footman to bring the carriage and take me home, and please send for my parents? I know you wish me to walk back into that room as though nothing is wrong but that is you, Peter, not me. I do not have the confidence. Please just let me leave.”

He sighed. Then his hands slipped away. “Very well, wait here.”

She cried again when he’d gone, but not because she loved him, because she felt a fool. Peter had made her feel important, she had travelled on the back of Mary’s excitement, and now she’d fallen. She was not pretty as Mary was.

When the door opened again she wiped away the tears.

“Your parents are in the hall. I have said my goodbyes and told everyone you have a headache. I shall take you and your parents home.”

“Thank you,” she acknowledged, but she would rather have left alone so she might feel like a silly girl in peace.

Peter opened the carriage door and pushed it wider for Drew. Drew jogged down the steps of the Duke of Pembroke’s House—his brother-in-law’s impressive home.

“Hurry.” Peter had spent all day preparing for this. He’d chosen a ring and collected a special licence from the Bishop. He was prepared to win Lillian back and willing to bring every ounce of bloody charm he possessed into play.

Drew climbed in and dropped into the seat opposite. Peter’s footman shut the door.

“Has Mary seen Emily?” Peter may have spent his day preparing to propose to Lillian but he had not entirely set Emily from his mind. He still felt guilty, no matter that she’d said she did not love him. He had embarrassed her.

“Mary called on her this morning. The family were packing. They are leaving town. I think they are all a little embarrassed. They had won a man with a title and now he’s slipped through their fingers.”

“Emily was not calculating like that.”

“No, but I think her parents were, and Mary told me last night that Emily had said to her she was not in love with you, and yet she would have married you because you are wealthy, titled, and handsome.”

No.

Peter laughed.

But then there had been no package of returned gifts from Emily this morning; she had kept all he’d given her.

Peter leaned across the carriage and gripped Drew’s knee, shook it and then leaned back. “How does a man feel guilty and insanely happy all at once?”

“I think it is known as love. I felt the same when I stole poor Mary away from her family and knew that I had broken her heart.”

“Then it is a good job you fixed it again. Now we just have to see Emily’s heart settled and then we may all be happy.”

But he had no guarantee of Lillian; he may not be happy yet.

The ring and the accompanying licence, tucked in his inside pocket, pressed against his chest when he breathed in.

They did not go into the theatre to watch the earlier sections of the performance; they found an inn and drank ale together. Peter did not want Lillian to hear of his attendance until she walked up the aisle. But when he did enter the theatre, he felt like running to her, like a bloody boy. Instead he walked through the dark hall created just for those who used the boxes, his heartbeat racing and thumping in his ears.

She had asked him to give up his box. He had not done it.

Lamps flickered on the walls at intervals.

The audience within the auditorium cheered, applauded, whistled and whooped. The chorus girls were taking their curtsy. He had become so familiar with this place he understood it like the workings of a clock.

Peter opened the door to his box and held it for Drew to pass. “Wait until you see her.” Eagerness raged inside Peter.