Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Emily had not expected to feel Lord Chambers" absence quite so keenly, but in the days which followed their kiss, she found herself longing for his presence, as well as mulling over why it was that he had disappeared.

Was it possible that he was a rake, after all? Had he snatched one kiss and given up the chase?

He had written her a short note, to explain that he had been temporarily called away from town--but was that just a ruse?

Emily had little experience with men--well none, in fact--but despite this, she could not believe that her assessment of Lord Chambers" character could be so far off the mark. True, he was arrogant and too handsome for his own good, but the earnestness with which he had attended to her had seemed so genuine.

He was a good man, she knew it, she just rather wished he would arrive at the door and prove it to her.

With the return of Mr Mifford to London, Mrs Mifford had once again taken up residence in Northcott House. As Emily attended to her preparations for the ball, her mother insisted on popping in and out, every few minutes, to offer unhelpful comments.

"I do wish you"d chosen mint over pistachio for the gown," she sighed, during one interruption.

"There"s very little difference between the two," Emily replied, through gritted teeth, "And there"s very little I can do now, the ball is in a few hours--I can hardly have a new dress made."

"Are you wearing your hair like that?" she gasped, after Sylvie had spent an hour dressing Emily"s hair, "It"s not very flattering."

"It will have to do," Emily snipped, "There"s no time to do anything else with it."

"Well, at least try and look cheerful," Mrs Mifford responded, with a sigh, "Anyone would think you"re not looking forward to the evening."

"I can"t think why," Emily muttered, as she wondered if it might be possible to lure her mother into the cupboard and lock her inside for the evening.

Luckily, Mr Mifford--demonstrating his almost telepathic ability to tell when his wife was being irritating--appeared at the door.

"You look wonderful, Emily," he said, before turning to his wife with a frown, "Have you seen my cuff-links?"

"Must I do everything?" Mrs Mifford huffed in response, as she stormed out the door with the air of a suffering martyr.

Emily waited a few beats, before grinning at her father.

"I believe you"re already wearing your cuff-links, Papa," she observed.

"Look at that," Mr Mifford replied, with feigned surprise, "So I am. Well, while I go find your mother, why don"t you finish getting ready in peace? I often find that a moment of solitude, before a big event, can calm the nerves."

With that sage advice, Mr Mifford departed, leaving Emily alone in her room. She checked her appearance one final time in the mirror and found that, without her mother"s critical voice in her ear, her reflection was quite becoming. Her red hair was worn high, with loose tendrils framing her face. Her gown, pistachio in colour and trimmed with lace, highlighted her slim frame and complimented her hair.

She was no ogre, she thought cheerfully.

Happy that she would not frighten anyone, Emily made for the window, which overlooked the square. She peeked out through the drapes and saw that there was already a line of carriages snaking around the square; an invitation from the Duke and Duchess of Northcott was not one that anyone would ignore.

Downstairs, Emily found Mary and Northcott in the entrance hall, awaiting the first of their guests. Mary looked almost regal in a gown of navy blue, which contrasted her light hair beautifully and hid her bump. Northcott was his usual tall, dark, and handsome self, as he muttered words of reassurance to his wife.

"Everyone will be intimidated by you; you are a duchess, there"s no need to be nervous. And, no, if something goes wrong, I will not allow you to fake your own death..."

Sensing that her sister was on the verge of hysteria, Emily simply offered her a sincere compliment on her dress, then made straight for the ballroom. There, she helped herself to a glass of ratafia, and idled by a large potted plant to await the first guests. She was soon joined by Eudora who, having been dressed by Sylvie, looked every-inch the blushing debutante.

"Where are your spectacles?" Emily queried. Though she knew well that Eudora only wore them for show, she was so accustomed to seeing her in them that it seemed strange to find her not wearing them.

"Sylvie confiscated them," Eudora replied, her expression mutinous, "Along with my feathered turban, my fox stole, and my cane. She said I had the style of a tragic, elderly spinster."

"Your style is not tragic," Emily assured her, though she was rather in agreement on the elderly spinster part. As the youngest sibling, Eudora had always wanted to appear older, but she rather overshot the mark at times. It was not unusual for someone to mistake Eudora for an aged grandmother from afar, as had happened on several occasions.

Cecilia was the first official guest to arrive, resplendent in a ruby gown, embroidered in gold stitching. Upon her head, she wore an imperial toque headdress, composed of ruby satin which matched her dress, with a gold tiara at its front and a plume of ostrich feathers at its crown. She looked like an empress of old; beautiful and intimidating, and the plume of feathers was so high, that she was certain to dwarf even the tallest of men.

Mr and Mrs Mifford followed in her wake, the latter looking slightly put-out at having been out-shone by her rival. A stream of guests then followed, amongst them Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling, whom Mrs Mifford pounced upon at once.

"Allow me to show you around, ladies," Mrs Mifford cried, her voice--unfortunately--carrying, "I know you are unaccustomed to mixing in such circles, and I do like to be charitable where I can."

Emily rolled her eyes; her mother was trying to dull her feelings of inferiority to Cecilia by making her guests from Plumpton feel equally inferior. If it had been anyone other than Mrs Canards, Emily would have felt pity towards them.

As it was, Mrs Canards scowled unhappily, and allowed herself to be led away by a buoyant Mrs Mifford. Emily"s attention was then drawn by the arrival of more guests to the ballroom, which was rapidly beginning to fill.

She spotted Ethel, garbed as theatrically as the dowager duchess; her lack of confidence in her silks and satins, however, marked her out as nouveau riche. Near Ethel, stood Miss Gardner and her mama, both preening contentedly as Mr Fitzgibbons attended to them. A little further away from them, standing with her parents was Lady Francesca, her expression most unhappy. It was no wonder she was sad, at midway through the season, there were no rumours yet that the young lady might find herself a husband--despite her having tried very hard to snaffle Mr Bunting, who was also present. The target of Lady Francesca"s affections was making a beeline for the French doors, an unlit cheroot already in hand. It was early in the night to abscond to the gardens to smoke, but perhaps Mr Bunting wished to avoid the ballroom until there were enough guests to separate him from the lady that he had disappointed.

Emily"s eyes scanned the room for Lord Chambers, but she saw no sign of him. Luckily, Lady Albermay"s arrival distracted her from her disappointment.

"Well, don"t you both look as sweet as a pair of ices from Gunter"s," Lady Albermay drawled, as she arrived at Emily and Eudora"s side. Her description was rather apt; for both girls were dressed in shades of pastel.

"And you look as delicious as a..." Eudora scrunched her nose, as she tried to think of a food which could best describe Lady Albermay"s purple ensemble, "...as a pickled beet."

"I"m most partial to a pickled beet, so thank you," Lady Albermay smiled, unshaken by such a clumsy compliment.

Her husband appeared at her shoulder, the lines of his face even more pronounced as he frowned at his wife.

"It is not the done thing to loiter when one first enters the room," he grumbled, ignoring Eudora and Emily, "We must circulate and be seen. I swear, if I had known marrying an American was akin to marrying a child, I would not have bothered. Lord Ackenhurst is over there and we must not be seen to ignore him; he has offered to lend support to my bill in the House of Lords. Come."

Emily concealed her look of horror, but Lady Albermay appeared well able to handle her husband.

"You married me for my wealth, not my social nous, dear," she tartly reminded her husband, before offering the sisters an apologetic look, "I hope to speak with you again later."

Once the pair were out of earshot, Eudora turned to Emily with a scowl.

"What an odious man," she grumbled, "He was rude to his wife, and he did not even acknowledge us."

"We are unmarried young ladies," Emily reminded her, with a shrug, "We"re not worth acknowledging, in some men"s eyes. Come, I see the footmen bringing in trays of syllabub."

Emily linked her arm through her sisters, and they traipsed across the ballroom together, smiling politely at the other guests. She procured them both glasses of the delicious ices, and they returned to their potted plant to happily munch away in peace.

"Oh look," Eudora elbowed Emily sharply, "That"s Sir Cadogan, is it not? I did not think that Mary would invite him. Who"s that he"s with?"

Eudora squinted across at Ethel, who looked out of place as she fiddled with the feathers of her turban, and glanced around nervously at the other guests.

"That"s Ethel," Emily tried for nonchalance, but her sister was not to be fooled.

"Why on earth did Mary invite...?" Eudora began, before trailing off as realisation dawned.

"You invited them!"

"Hush," Emily thwacked her sister"s arm with the spoon she held, "Don"t draw attention."

"I"m not drawing attention," Eudora responded, with her usual defensiveness, before continuing on in a lower voice, "How exciting! Are you hoping to draw a confession from the pair?"

"Lord Chambers is hoping to," Emily agreed, "If he ever shows up. I have not heard from him, since our kiss."

Confiding one"s problems in one"s sister was often unpredictable. One never knew if she would sympathise, chastise, or advise of her desire to commit violence on one"s behalf.

Eudora chose the latter.

"The fiend," she huffed, running an agitated hand through her brown curls, half-destroying Sylvie"s work in the process, "How dare he steal a kiss and abandon you after? I will run him through with a sword when I next see him. Oh, look--there he is!"

Eudora glanced around, her eyes searching for something to use as a weapon, but the ballroom was, thankfully, devoid of any decorative arms. Fearing that she might use the glass which had held her syllabub as an improvised missile, Emily plucked it from her hand and waved down a passing footman to take it away.

"Don"t say anything, Eudora, I beg you," Emily whispered to her sister as Lord Chambers sighted them, and gave a wave, "I"m certain there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for his absence."

"It would want to be reasonable," Eudora muttered darkly, as Lord Chambers--accompanied by a friend--made his approach.

"Miss Mifford," Freddie greeted Emily with his usual warmth, and, despite her annoyance at him, she could not help but smile back.

"This is my good friend, Lord Delaney," he continued, turning to his companion, "This is the famed Miss Mifford, and her charming sister, Miss Eudora Mifford."

Freddie"s voice faltered a little as he realised that the "charming" Eudora was glaring daggers at him.

"A pleasure, Miss Mifford," Lord Delaney bowed in Emily"s direction, "Though we have just met, I feel I know you intimately, given how often Chambers speaks of you."

"Ahem," Freddie cleared his throat pointedly, his ears pink.

"He"s incessant," Lord Delaney continued, appearing to delight in his friend"s discomfort, "Day in, day out, from morning to night, all he speaks of is you."

Emily could not help but feel a curl of pleasure at his words; Lord Chambers had not forgotten her, after all.

"Now," Lord Delaney turned his attentions to Eudora, his brown eyes alight with interest, "Tell me, how is it that we have never met?"

"We have," Eudora was dry, "We were introduced at Lady Albermay"s ball."

"An impossibility; I would not have forgotten a lady as charming as you."

Emily stifled a smile; Eudora looked far more charming this evening, without a mob cap and spectacles to hide her beauty. The only thing which marred her otherwise becoming appearance was the frown which furrowed her brow as she glared at Lord Delaney. She was clearly not as taken by him, as he of she.

Lord Delaney was not deterred, however, and he held out his arm to Eudora, "Perhaps you will agree to step up with me for the next dance, and we can become reacquainted?"

For a moment, Eudora looked as though she would refuse him, but then she glanced at Emily and Freddie, and seemed to decide they needed a moment alone.

"Very well," Eudora sighed, as though she was agreeing to walk to the gallows.

She placed her hand on Lord Delaney"s arm and allowed him to lead her away, leaving Emily and Freddie alone.

"Sir Cadogan is here," Emily whispered, with a discreet nod in the squire"s direction, "And Ethel too. How do you propose we confront them?"

"You are all business," Freddie replied, sounding faintly disappointed.

Irritation flared within, which Emily did not even attempt to quash. He had kissed her and abandoned her, and now he had the temerity to complain that she was cold?

"Your prolonged, unexplained absence left me in no doubt as to where I stand with you," Emily sniffed, tilting her chin stubbornly.

Lord Chambers" face clouded over with confusion, before understanding dawned.

"Oh," for the first time since Emily had met him, the marquess appeared flustered, "Goodness, I didn"t consider the optics when I..."

"When you..?" Emily challenged him, placing her hands on her hips, "When you seduced me in a carriage and disappeared for days after?"

Lord Chambers" face was pale and he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"I did not think that it would look like that," he answered, "Though now that you have said it, I feel that I was rather stupid to take off without first calling upon you to explain myself."

He did look rather contrite, Emily conceded, though before she had a chance to ask him what exactly he had been up to, they were interrupted.

"There you are, Emily," Mrs Mifford cried, before turning to Lord Chambers as though astonished to see him--though her acting skills were somewhat wanting, "Why, Lord Chambers, I did not see you there. Might I introduce you to Mrs Canards and Mrs Wickling--both up from Plumpton to see how the other half live. Ladies, this is the Marquess of Highfield--a particular friend of Emily."

Mrs Mifford could not contain her air of smugness, as she smiled triumphantly at her guests. Mrs Canards, however, looked far from cowed, instead, her lips curled into an unpleasant smile.

"Lord Chambers and I have already met," Mrs Canards replied, much to Mrs Mifford"s chagrin, "At Lady Hardthistle"s funeral. Tell me, Miss Mifford, did they ever find the true culprit of the baroness" horrendous murder, or does the finger of blame still point at you? I must say, trouble does tend to follow you Mifford girls about."

Emily found herself stunned into silence by such an audacious remark, but there was someone on hand to defend her.

"Miss Mifford is innocent," Lord Chambers answered, his voice even, though his eyes flashed with anger, "She did not kill Lady Hardthistle."

"Oh no?" Mrs Canards made no effort to keep her voice down, and was drawing the attention of some of the other guests, who inched closer to watch the entertainment--including Ethel and Sir Cadogan, "Then tell me, if not she, who killed Lady Hardthistle?"

"Yes, who?" Ethel joined in, casting a glare Emily"s way.

When they had discussed confronting Sir Cadogan, Emily had not imagined that they would be doing so in front of a hostile audience. From the rather uncomfortable look on Freddie"s face, she guessed that he had not either.

Still, he squared his shoulders, glanced coolly at Ethel, and replied.

"I believe it was Sir Cadogan."

Those guests who were watching gasped, and began to whisper amongst themselves, which attracted even more attention from those who had not noticed the ensuing fracas.

Emily squirmed a little, as all eyes turned towards Lord Chambers, who was staring Sir Cadogan down, visibly willing him to wilt under pressure.

"I am afraid, Chambers, that you have gone too far this time," Sir Cadogan boomed, when he eventually found his voice, "How dare you accuse me of murder? I should call you out."

"You were sighted in the gardens of Albermay House," Freddie retorted, "Alongside Miss Willard there. When she returned to the house, you lingered, so as not to be seen together. On your way back to the party, you stumbled across Lady Hardthistle, with whom you had argued the night before. Sensing a chance to not only get your revenge, but to inherit her fortune by marrying Miss Willard, you struck! You strangled her to death, sir."

Freddie"s outburst was met with stunned silence by the crowd. All eyes turned to Sir Cadogan, whose face had turned an alarming shade of purple.

"My lord, I did no such thing," he eventually spat out, "When I parted ways with Miss Willard, I did indeed stumble across someone--or rather two people--who will attest to the fact that it would have been impossible for me to murder Lady Hardthistle in the time-frame given."

Emily"s stomach sank, as she realised that their sleuthing skills were not as sharp as they had first believed.

"Oh," Freddie blustered, his voice far less confident now, "And who"s that?"

"That would be me."

Mr Fitzgibbons stepped forward, sheepishly raising his hand. More murmurs from the crowd accompanied his confession, but they were cut short by the arrival of Northcott and Mary to the ballroom.

"What"s going on?" Mary squeaked, with a petrified look at the crowd.

"Lord Chambers is attempting to exonerate your sister of murder, by accusing me instead," Sir Cadogan answered, with an irritable shake of his jowls.

Mary"s face paled; her fears that the ball would be a disaster were realising before her very eyes. Acutely aware that his wife was on the verge of hysteria, Northcott took charge.

"Chambers," he said, his voice calm, "Sir Cadogan; why don"t you both join me in the library?"

"I expect I"d best come too," Mr Fitzgibbons added, cheerfully.

"Very good," Northcott answered, before waving to attract the attention of the orchestra, "A little music, please."

The four men filtered out of the room, and once they were gone, Cecilia took charge, for Mary was too shocked to move.

"Come," the dowager duchess called, gaily, "Let us dance and be merry!"

The guests obeyed, no doubt keen to discuss what had happened amongst themselves. Only Emily remained rooted to the spot, a sense of dread growing steadily in her belly.

Their plan had failed spectacularly. Not only did Sir Cadogan appear to be innocent, but their next suspect too. Instead of exonerating Emily, they had merely implicated her further.

"I must say Mrs Mifford," Emily heard Mrs Canards say, as she moved away, "It"s been a wonderful night, so far. I cannot wait to share with the villagers how triumphantly your daughters have conquered London."

Nausea overwhelmed Emily, as she realised that she would never overcome this social failure. There was no way that Lord Chambers would ever have her as his wife, after this scandal. Unable to bear the pitying looks from the other guests any further, Emily picked up the skirts of her dress, and fled for the safety of the gardens.