Page 67 of The Viscount's Promise
Leave it to Lady Tarryton to end her two weeks of assumed hostess duties with such a flourish.
Emily stood with her back pressed against the wall inside the ballroom doors as the throng before her twirled and laughed, talked and promenaded. She swallowed hard. There had to be two hundred people here at the very least. Where had they all come from? How was it possible that her family even knew two hundred people? She had the insane urge to find an alcove, to hide and not emerge until the last person had left. Just then, however, she spied Daphne dancing with Mr. Ignatius Knowles. Sir Tristan was in another set. The man kept throwing longing glances Daphne’s way. No, she could not hide. She had a job to do. Even so, her feet would not obey her. She stayed frozen in place, like a frightened rabbit faced with a hungry horde, certain she would be ripped to shreds the moment she stepped within their midst.
The music came to a flourishing close. Emily blinked. She had been so immersed in her panic that she hadn’t heard a single chord of it. Had it been a quadrille, a cotillion? Truly, she hadn’t a clue. She pushed herself away from the wall, forcing her feet to move in her sister’s direction. The more she played slave to her fears, the less time she had to accomplish what she had set out to do. She would wring some sort of promise between those two tonight, no matter what it took.
Although, she thought as she stepped forward only to find herself within an unmoving clump of humanity, perhaps she could take a few minutes more to ready herself for the ordeal ahead. Feeling an utter coward, she retreated back toward the open ballroom doors. The sight there, however, stunned her completely. She sprang into movement, launching herself straight into her brother’s arms.
“Caleb!” she cried. “You’re back. And Imogen,” she went on happily, embracing her sister-in-law. “It’s so good to see the both of you.”
“We’ve missed you, dearest,” Imogen said, pulling back and smiling, her clear turquoise eyes scanning Emily’s face. “How have you fared while we were gone?”
An image of Malcolm’s face rose up in her mind, the memory of his kisses crashing over her with all the strength of a wave. “Fine,” she managed, her smile turning brittle. “Just fine. But we didn’t expect you until tomorrow at the earliest.”
“We could not miss this final jewel in the crown that is the first house party Willowhaven has seen since I was a boy,” Caleb said with a wry smile.
“And what a jewel it is,” Imogen murmured, trepidation ripe in her voice as she took in the room. She turned worried eyes up to Caleb. “I did tell you I should have reined her in. What must your mother think of all this?”
Emily could well imagine Imogen’s worry. Not only had it been her mother who had overtaken the duties that should have rightly belonged to the dowager marchioness, but Imogen’s own shyness in crowds must be overwhelming her. If it was a portion of what Emily was feeling at the moment, she knew it was horrible indeed.
“Don’t worry, love,” Caleb said soothingly. “My mother would not have allowed it if she had been unwilling to have it happen.”
“But you don’t know my mother,” Imogen fretted.
“No,” Emily cut in, “but we do know ours. And Caleb is right in that she’s stronger than you think and would not have given in to Lady Tarryton unless she wished to.”
Just then, Sir Tristan approached. “Well, look who’s arrived,” he said in his jovial way, shaking Caleb’s hand. “And looking none the worse for having spent nearly a fortnight in the sole company of this lovely woman.” He grinned, kissing Imogen on the cheek. “You’re looking well, Imogen. I do hope that means this bounder is treating you well.”
Imogen blushed. “Very well.”
Sir Tristan gave her a saucy wink before turning back to his friend. “Morley will be glad to see you. Though where he’s got off to I don’t know. I haven’t seen him all evening. I was about to go looking for him when I caught sight of you.”
Caleb frowned. “But didn’t you know? Morley left hours ago.”
Emily’s blood turned to ice. “Malcolm has left?” she blurted.
“What do you mean he’s left?” Sir Tristan demanded, his face showing his shock.
Caleb’s frown deepened. “Imogen and I ran into him as we arrived. He took his leave immediately, said he had business in London.” His eyes slid to Emily for a second. She clenched her fingers in her skirts to stop their trembling, wondering at the flash of worry in his face.
“That damn stubborn fool,” Sir Tristan exploded.
“Why do I get the feeling,” Caleb asked slowly, “that something deep is going on here?”
Sir Tristan pressed his lips tight, looking about the crowded room. Several people were staring their way, their expressions blatantly curious. “Perhaps we had best take this to a more private location,” he mumbled. “Let me fetch Daphne, and we’ll meet you in the library in a thrice.”
If Caleb thought anything unusual about his friend’s request, he gave no hint of it. He guided Imogen and Emily down the hall to the empty library. The three of them were quietly pensive as they waited, Caleb busying himself by stoking the low fire in the hearth.
Malcolm had left? And without bidding her farewell?
Naturally without saying good-bye, she silently upbraided herself. They had not exactly been on friendly terms the past days. Perhaps it was better this way. They needn’t have to deal with one another again, could go on with their lives.
Yet the knowledge that she would never see him again was like a piercing claw, reaching into her chest, finding and squeezing her heart until she was certain another ounce of pain could not be wrung from it.
Within minutes—though what felt like hours—the door opened and Sir Tristan and Daphne slipped inside, approaching their small group.
“Now,” Caleb said, still facing the hearth, his voice harsh in the quiet of the vast room, “perhaps someone would care to let me know what is going on here. For after Morley’s strange leave-taking and the peculiar reaction I received when the news of his departure was conveyed, I expect something interesting happened in my absence.”
Sir Tristan was the one to speak into the tense silence. “First, let me tell you that everything that was done, was done for the right reasons.”
