Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

F or Lady Leighton’s small dinner party that evening, a dress that was Scarlett’s own had arrived from the dressmaker’s. She had been uncertain about it in the shop, for the colour of the superfine, a creamy ivory, hearkened slightly too closely to drab for her liking. Lady Tipton had, however, assured her repeatedly that it would make up to be magnificent, and seeing it laid out upon her bed, it certainly seemed she was correct.

The gown had been embroidered all over the skirt with a silvery thread, and an ivory ribbon, also embroidered with silver, went round the waist and tied up in an enormous bow that rested high on her back, between her shoulder blades. “You look like an angel,” Bess breathed when she saw her in it.

Her hair, too, was angelic, having been curled and pinned in a mass that cascaded from the top of her head and had ribbons woven through it. Around her neck and in her ears was a pearl necklace and earring set that Lady Tipton had seen fit to loan her. Scarlett thought she hardly recognised the young lady in the mirror.

“Miss Scarlett?” The housekeeper had entered the bedchamber. “Lord Worthe is here to see you. I have him waiting in the west drawing room, behind the library.”

Scarlett thanked the housekeeper and then sat for a moment, praying her nerves—which directed her to swoon, cry, and laugh all at once—would settle. It did not work, so before she succumbed to any or all of the three, she quit her bedchamber and descended the stairs to meet him.

Worthe looked pale, like he was having his own bout of nerves as he awaited her. His hands were clasped loosely in front of his legs, and he regarded her soberly as she entered. She paused, just for a moment, then smiled at him, relieved when he smiled back and crossed the room in quick paces to come to her.

A fraction of a second later, his hands were gently holding her face and he kissed her with beautiful fervour that bespoke all the love and acceptance and belongingness that she ever could have wished for. Relief swept through her in a rush, making her feel weak; perhaps he sensed that, for one hand fell, his strong arm encircling her waist to hold her close.

It ended too soon. One of her curls—so recently placed into a precise spot near her ear—took a tumble, the pin making a quiet plink on the wooden floorboards as the hair brushed against her cheek. He immediately pulled away from her.

“Scarlett.” He breathed her name. “Dear Scarlett.”

They slowly disentangled from one another, taking the smallest step backwards that would ensure propriety should anyone else enter the room. She bent to collect her hairpin at the same time that he did and both laughed when they nearly hit their heads together.

He handed her the pin. “Forgive me, that was not?—”

“Pray do not say you did not mean it,” she said with a small laugh. “I do not think I could bear the disappointment.”

“I have given you disappointment enough of late, have I not?”

His words made Scarlett recollect the pain of the past days, and she considered what to say as she began to re-pin her curl. “I cannot deny I was rather heartbroken by your defection.”

“Shall we sit?” He gestured towards the chairs by the fireplace. She might have liked a sofa better, but there were only chairs and thus in the chairs they sat. She was consoled when he pulled his closer so that it nearly touched her own.

“I know Oakley had every good intention. He means to be a good brother to you.”

“Brother?” She looked at him with surprise. “So he told you?— ”

Worthe nodded. “He knew he could depend upon my discretion and so may you all.”

“Thank you. I daresay he did mean well.”

“Alas, I understood him to mean that not only did he speak to your interests, but also on your behalf.”

“On my behalf?” She shook her head so hard that she nearly risked that problematic curl falling out again. “Not at all. I was absolutely bewildered by the sudden coldness in your manner. I could not think… That is, I began to think you had decided that…I was not deserving of your attention.”

“No,” he said urgently. “Scarlett, no, nothing could be further from the truth. It seemed reasonable to imagine that a lady who had been so little in town would wish to…explore. To meet other men, to?—”

“What has reason to do with love?” she asked lightly. “Nothing at all in my opinion.”

“I was a fool,” he said warmly. “And your sister told me so, most unguardedly.”

That made Scarlett laugh, to imagine dear Adelaide, complexion pale and eyes luminous with rage, telling Worthe all the ways in which he had erred. “What did she say?”

“Many, many things, most notably that I had allowed a man several years my junior who had no discernible love interest of his own to make my romantic decisions for me. And she was right.”

Yes, it is all very strange, but it is wonderful too , Scarlett mused, considering it in the light of her previous disquiet. A brother and a sister taking up her cause, defending her so staunchly—and wrongly, in Oakley’s case, but it was still provoked by his concern for her.

The swell of feeling that rose up within her could scarce be contained. Was it possible that this could be her life? A man who adored her at her side, a brother and a sister, an aunt and uncle, all of whom wished to care for her and be cared for by her. It might feel peculiar now, but she knew she could accustom herself to it all.

Her sentiments must have shown on her countenance, inducing Worthe to plead, “Scarlett, pray tell me you will forgive me? That my chances are not ruined?”

When she beheld him, sitting on the edge of his chair, anxiety causing him to tightly grip and twist his own hands together, she had but one thought. A life without him would be no life at all. I should prefer to be a spinster.

“Of course I forgive you,” was all she could say and hoped the love she felt nearly bursting from her would tell him the rest.

He stared at her long enough that her heart skipped a beat; and then he slid from his seat, sinking to his knees so that he was bent over her lap. It shocked her; she hardly knew what to make of him, only wondering for a dizzying moment what she ought to say if he proposed in such a posture.

But he only took her hands in his own and kissed them tenderly, sending electric thrills up her arms. “You are the most wonderful lady I have ever known,” he murmured. “I cannot comprehend my good fortune in meeting you. I did not even want to go to Luton that night! My brother made me go, wishing to meet a lady who never arrived.”

“I am mightily glad he did,” Scarlett murmured.

It was then they heard some hubbub coming down the hall. Worthe quickly removed back to his own chair, and moments later, Bess entered.

“Mama is in an absolute lather,” she informed them.

“Oh, no!” Scarlett rose to her feet. “Pray tell her that?—”

“No, no! It is nothing that is happening in here, I assure you!” Bess smiled. “The hour that my father was meant to be here has come and gone, and she is working herself into an agony, certain he is overturned in a ravine somewhere.”

Scarlett glanced towards Worthe, wondering whether he was as disappointed by the interruption as she was. They had scarcely begun to reconcile, and now would be forced to be in the company of others all night.

But Lady Leighton had been wonderful to her, and so very obliging. Scarlett could not leave her to suffer alone. “Let us go and sit with her,” Scarlett said, rising. “I am sure Sir Humphrey will be along directly.”

“I cannot imagine what is keeping Sir Humphrey,” Lady Leighton fretted when Scarlett and Worthe entered the larger drawing room. “Everyone will be here in under half an hour, and he is nowhere to be found!”

“Do not worry, Mama,” Leighton offered. “He has Old Carter working the ribbons, and the weather is fine. They will be here in ample time for the party.”

“Yes, but where could he be ?” Lady Leighton paced, wringing her hands.

“If you would like,” Worthe offered, “I can ride out a way, in the direction he might be coming.”

“That will do no good,” she cried out somewhat hysterically. “For then you will go missing, too!”

“If something had gone wrong,” Scarlett observed, “a rider would have been sent to tell us. The most likely thing is that he got a late start.”

“Scarlett is right,” Leighton said. “He will be here, Mama, and all will be well. Let us prepare for the guests, for my father will be late. I shall take his place at the table until he is here.”

“My dear boy,” said Lady Leighton, removing a handkerchief from her sleeve to dab at her eyes. “What would I do without you?”

“All will be well, Mama,” Bess repeated, going to her mother’s side. “Let us just relax and enjoy the guests, and I daresay Papa will be here before the soup course is over.”

As it turned out, Sir Humphrey did not appear in time for the guests’ arrival, nor was he there when it was time to sit down to the dinner. Lord and Lady Tipton both performed admirably, assuring Lady Leighton that they were certain he would arrive at any moment, and Kem, Worthe, and Oakley all offered several times to ride out towards the tollgate to see if they might get news of him.

Lady Leighton put aside her dismay and was an excellent hostess, with only occasional bouts of fear; Leighton acted well as the host. Almost too well , Scarlett thought. She had hoped there would be no separation of the sexes, but Leighton, relishing his stint as lord of the manor, took great pride in sending for his father’s Madeira for the men to enjoy. Scarlett thought it likely that cigars would be brought forth, and she hoped they would not for she had every hope for a kiss later. Who knows, perhaps I shall like a cigar-flavoured kiss , she thought, suppressing a wicked grin that threatened. I have never had one; perhaps they are nice.

“I do hope you will all forgive my dear husband,” Lady Leighton told the ladies as they settled themselves in the drawing room. “He was sure he would be here by dinner, else I never would have arranged a party!”

“Think nothing of it.” Lady Tipton patted her on the arm. “We are all having a splendid time, and I am only sorry Sir Humphrey has missed it.”

Bess took to the instrument in the corner of the room, idly beginning to play through some quiet piece that would not disrupt the ladies in their conversation. Adelaide pulled Scarlett onto the settee next to her. “You and Worthe have talked things over?”

Scarlett nodded. “I hope we shall have more time to speak later, but the sum of it already is that he is regretful as well as forgiven and he holds nothing against my brother for being severe to him.” Then she gave her sister a little poke. “Or you.”

“I can already see that you are much sweeter than I am,” Adelaide said good-naturedly. “Someone had to say what needed to be said, and I doubted you were equal to it.”

“Thank you.” Scarlett leant over and kissed her on the cheek.

Adelaide brushed that away. “It is what family does, or so I always dreamt they should.”

At once, they heard the sound of male voices in the hall. Lady Leighton cried out and rose from her seat, Bess ceased playing, and they all began that feminine ritual of sitting straighter, arranging themselves a little better, that ladies tended to do in anticipation of being joined by the men.

The door was flung open with vigour and in stepped Sir Humphrey, apologies, greetings, compliments, and all manner of delighted exclamations falling from his lips as he entered.

And behind him came Reverend Margrave.