“I insisted that she accompany me until you arrived.”
“I hope you do not mind too much, Emily. In fact, I’ve been eagerly waiting for you myself. We really must finish the conversation that we were having earlier.”
“It’s quite all right,” Emily told her friend with a broad smile. “Why don’t the two of you go and enjoy yourselves. I can dance with Adrian afterward, and then you and I can have a little chat.”
“That’s what I love about you, Emily—you’re always so agreeable,” Adrian grinned. “Ah, I hear the music starting as we speak. Come on, Kate, let’s show them how it’s done.”
As Adrian hurried away, pulling a stumbling Kate after him, Emily watched them go. Something about it didn’t sit well with her, though she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. She shook away her misgivings.
It’s just a dance.
When she turned, she spotted a momentary look of regret upon Lady Carroway’s face, and then it was gone.
“Come, my dear.” Lady Carroway pulled her along but said nothing more. It was clear that her thoughts were on something else entirely.
When they joined her sisters again, Claire could barely contain her curiosity. “Why is Adrian dancing with Kate instead of with you?” she whispered.
“I wasn’t here when he asked her,” Emily explained. “Adrian had already offered to dance with Kate before I arrived, and it really would have been badly done if he didn’t honor his prior engagement.” It was a simple explanation, yet something about the whole exchange still bothered her.
“He should have waited.” Lady Carroway’s voice was filled with irritation. “He should have waited and danced with you first. I’m sorry about this, Emily; it’s terribly rude of him.”
Emily wasn’t one to get too caught up in etiquette. She merely shrugged. Why did it matter whom Adrian danced with? They were all friends after all, and Kate had known him just as long as she had. Emily had never been the jealous type, and she was determined not to start now. On the contrary, it pleased her to know that her two dearest friends could get along.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
Her thoughts came tumbling to the ground when she felt a sharp nudge in her ribs. It was Claire. “Emily,” she whispered. “Lord Dunhurst is asking you if you would like to dance the next set with him. He is still waiting for your reply.”
It was all too familiar to her. She had always had a tendency to daydream. As a child, her tutors had sometimes had to tap her shoulder with a ruler to bring her back to reality. At such moments it always seemed as if she had been absent for far longer than was probably the case. She now looked flustered as she noticed Francis standing before her, an eyebrow raised as he awaited her answer.
“Please excuse me,” she told him with a faint smile. “But I must regretfully decline as I shall be dancing the next set with Mr. Fairchild.”
She couldn’t help but notice a brief flicker of annoyance pass behind his eyes. It did nothing but aggravate her.
“In that case, I shall disturb you no longer,” he said as he took his leave and walked away, his eyes dark and his jaw clenched tightly shut.
Emily followed him with her eyes as she let out a deep sigh of relief. Why did he always have this effect on her? She wondered. There was just something about him that she found to be rather unpleasant. She turned toward her sisters. “He makes me feel most uncomfortable,” she noted.
“You were rather cold toward him, Emily,” Beatrice told her. “In fact, I daresay you were quite rude.”
“I with him? Is he not the one who never manages to smile? And how rude of him not to invite one of you to dance after I informed him that I’d be dancing with Adrian.”
“Honestly, Emily, he was really quite polite in asking you. Perhaps he noticed the look of disappointment on your face when Adrian chose to dance with Kate instead. There’s no need denying it—you did look rather put-out, though you made a brave attempt not to. So if you ask me, I think Francis was rather thoughtful and kind when he asked you. Naturally he would not ask anyone else once you had so flatly refused him.”
Emily had seen no such thing. Was Beatrice right? But why would Francis ask her to dance anyway? It was no secret that he disliked her company. Perhaps Beatrice was right. Perhaps he’d merely been trying to help. Emily sighed once again. She suddenly felt as if she had wronged him in some way.
Perhaps she ought to apologize.
But the next thing she knew, Kate and Adrian had returned, both talking amidst bursts of laughter as they walked up to her.
“You appear to have been enjoying yourselves immensely,” Lady Carroway observed with a strained smile.
Kate looked suddenly flushed. There was that embarrassment again.
“We have been, indeed,” Adrian said. “Now, dear Emily, I do believe that it is your turn.”
Emily couldn’t conceal her happiness as he took her by the arm and led her toward the dance floor. From behind her, she could hear Claire making a quiet remark, which was swiftly followed by a string of giggles. She was confident that a joke had just been made at her expense, but all she could do was smile at it. This truly was the best night ever.
CHAPTER FOUR
As Emily and Adrian faced one another across the dance floor, she knew that she had never felt happier. How handsome he looked, all dressed in black and white—so elegant. She felt her heart skip a beat. And when he gave her that winning smile of his, it all but took her breath away.
And yet it was as if he wasn’t quite present. It seemed as if something was distracting him. Of course it was, she thought. Marriage and marriage proposals were a serious business. He was probably trying to decide on the best way in which to broach the topic.
As the music started up, they stepped lightly toward one another, meeting for a brief moment in the middle of the floor, hands barely touching, before stepping apart once more. When they met again, they turned quickly about, his hand resting ever so gently upon her waist. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” he told her.
Her heart leapt with joy at those reassuring words. “As I have you,” she assured him.
“I would like an opportunity to speak with you . . . in private,” he whispered. “Once this dance has ended.”
Her stomach fluttered. He intended to ask her tonight after all. She was suddenly rendered speechless, her nerves playing havoc with her body. She simply nodded in agreement.
As the music faded, he grasped her hand in his and pulled her along with him, away from the crowded ballroom, through French doors that had been flung open and outside onto a terrace overlooking the garden.
The air was sweet with a faint scent of jasmine as they paused here momentarily. Adrian squeezed her hand lightly as he glanced about. Nobody else was out here. Everyone was inside enjoying the festivities.
Spotting a low bench, he dragged her toward it. She sat down immediately, gracefully, and expectantly as he took the seat next to her, still holding her hand in his.
“How long have we been friends, Emily?”
“Since the beginning of time.” She managed to keep her tone even, though it was barely louder than a whisper.
“I’ve decided to marry,” he told her abruptly.
Emily caught her breath as tears of joy began to gather in her eyes. Finally!
“I realize it may come as a surprise to you, though it shouldn’t really. I’ve always said that I wanted to marry before I turned thirty. I know that there is plenty of time yet—for as you know, I am but seven and twenty—but it seems so right, Emily.”
“Does it?” she asked faintly, her heart beating so erratically she could barely concentrate on what he was telling her.
“You and I have always been close. That’s why I want you to be the first to know . . . I’ve asked Kate to be my wife.”
Everything slowed to a halt, and her heart felt like it had suddenly stopped. She sat perfectly still, motionless as if she were frozen in time. Had she heard him right? Had the man she’d been in love with for all eternity just told her he would marry her friend? Not her, but Kate?
“I saw her in London, while she was there visiting her aunt and uncle . . .” Adrian was saying, but Emily had stopped listening.
She looked down at her hands. He was still holding them in his. How quickly the significance of his touch had altered. No more than a second ago, she had taken it to be a sign of his love for her. Now, she saw it for what it was: one friend reaching out to another for approval. She felt her heart beat once and then again as her throat tightened and her eyes began to burn. How could she have been so naïve as to think that he would ever have considered making her his wife?
She was suddenly acutely aware of everything. It was unbearably clear that there had been no understanding after all. In all likelihood he didn’t even recall the conversation they’d had six years ago. “I’m not ready for marriage yet,” he’d said. “But when I will be, there’s nobody I’d rather marry than you, my dearest friend.”
He had kissed her gently that day, beneath the cherry blossoms behind her cottage. It now dawned on her that he had done it all on a whim. He might have meant what he’d said for the briefest of moments, but that was all it had been to him. To her however . . . her heart was breaking apart, piece by piece, at an agonizingly slow pace.
She had to get away from him with her dignity still intact. He mustn’t see her unravel as she knew she was about to. It was enough of a humiliation that the entire town would soon know that she was not to be his bride. Not now, not ever, even though that was what everyone had thought. That was what everyone had told her. And she had believed them. . . . She had hoped. . . . Oh God, what a fool she had been.
Very slowly, as if worried that a sudden movement might cause her to shatter, she withdrew her hand. She then raised her eyes to meet his and gave him the most dazzling smile that she could muster. Then, fighting against the pain in her throat, she did her best to speak in a smooth, calm voice. “I am so happy for you, Adrian. You have made a wonderful choice in Kate, and I just know that she will make a brilliant wife. You are really very well suited for one another.”
“So you approve? I’m so relieved. You have no idea how nervous I was about telling you. Your opinion matters more to me than anyone else’s. Thank you, Emily—you really are a true friend,” he told her sincerely. “I knew I could count on you for support.”
Was this a nightmare? Emily wondered. Would she wake up any minute to find that it had all been nothing but a dream? That the gut-wrenching sadness she felt right now was unfounded? No, this was not a dream. She was in fact sitting here, telling the man she loved more than life itself that he had her blessing to marry somebody else.
You are a true friend. The words echoed in her mind, viciously stabbing at her heart.
“Are you all right?” she heard him ask.
Panic spread erratically throughout her body. How much longer could she maintain her composure? Already the tears were welling in her eyes. Emily was thankful for the darkness of night that masked her true emotions. She nodded vigorously in response to his question, then managed to choke out, “Yes, I’m fine. Like I said, I wish both of you the best, Adrian.” Rising to her feet, she steadied herself, willing herself to remain calm for a moment longer. “Goodbye.”