Page 47 of Not Just Any Earl
“Give me a moment, please, girls.” Lady Fosberry held up a hand to silence Emmeline, who’d opened her mouth to speak. “Just a moment to think, and I’m sure I’ll come up with some way to—”
The drawing room door opened then, startling all three of them. “I beg your pardon, my lady,” Watkins said with a bow. “Lord Melrose has just arrived.”
Lady Fosberry blew out a breath. “Yes, we’ve been expecting him. Show him in, Watkins.”
Juliet remained as she was, only the quick dart of her gaze toward the door betraying her nerves, but Emmeline dropped back down onto the settee, her heart crawling into her throat at the mention of Johnathan’s name.
A moment later he stormed into the drawing room, his hair disheveled and his eyes wild, looking as if he’d run straight from Covent Garden to Hampstead Heath.
“My dear Lord Melrose, I think we—” Lady Fosberry began.
But Johnathan didn’t seem aware Lady Fosberry or Juliet were even in the room. He strode over to the settee where Emmeline sat, and gathered her hands in his. “Emmeline.”
Her treacherous heart melted at the sound of her name on his lips, and dear God, she didn’t know what to say, or where to look, nor could she bring herself to withdraw her hands from his.
Lady Fosberry didn’t share Emmeline’s hesitation. “It seems we’ve discovered the identity of the Lady in Lavender at last, my lord. Unfortunately, this situation has become a good deal more complicated than either of us could have anticipated.”
“On the contrary, my lady. The truth is simple.” Johnathan’s fingers tightened around Emmeline’s, squeezing gently. “After our conversation among Lady Hammond’s roses yesterday, I was left with the impression you are the Lady in Lavender, but you never actually said so.”
It occurred to Emmeline then that she could lie, and claim she hadn’t said so because she wasn’t the Lady in Lavender, but even if she’d wanted to, she could never look into Johnathan’s eyes and lie to him.
“I came to beg for the truth from your lips.” Johnathan gazed at her with hope burning in his cornflower-blue eyes. “But I already know the truth, Emmeline.”
If she looked into his eyes again, she’d burst into tears, so Emmeline looked away, gazing blindly at a point over his shoulder. “The truth no longer matters, my lord. Half the ton witnessed the spectacle at the theater tonight, and the other half will know every detail of it by breakfast tomorrow morning.”
“It hardly matters? How can it not matter? Look at me, Emmeline.” Johnathan turned her face toward his, so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. “You are the lady I kissed that night in the library, and you are the lady I’ve fallen in love with. That is the only thing that matters.”
Oh, how Emmeline wished that were true!
“Emmeline Templeton.” Johnathan raised her hand to his lips. “I humbly beg…”
Lady Fosberry gasped, her hand flying to her heart, but Emmeline could only stare at Johnathan, speechless.
Surely, he didn’t mean to—
“For the honor of your hand…”
He did mean to do it, was doing it, even now. She remained silent, her mind racing.
“…proper courtship, and the wedding as soon as possible, before the end of the season.”
Courtship, he’d said. He was talking about a betrothal, a wedding, a marriage…
Emmeline smothered the sob on her lips at the earnestness with which he declared himself, the warmth in his eyes. He was so handsome, but even his beauty paled in comparison to his goodness. There wasn’t one man in a hundred with the honor to offer for her under the circumstances, but he was offering her his hand and his heart without reservation.
And she had no choice but to break his heart, and her own, with a refusal. “I—forgive me, my lord, but a marriage between us is out of the question now. Surely you see that Juliet must become the Countess of Melrose?”
“Me?” Juliet repeated in astonishment.
“Juliet?” Lady Fosberry echoed, as if she’d misheard. “But you’re the Lady in Lavender, Emmeline. What has Juliet got to do with it?”
“Juliet is the lady all of London believes to be the Lady in Lavender.” Emmeline’s heart gave a despairing wrench in her chest. “The only way to put this right again is for Johnathan and Juliet to marry. Otherwise, Juliet’s reputation will be forever ruined.”
“Emmeline!” Lady Fosberry exclaimed. “I beg you to consider—”
“There’s nothing to consider.” Emmeline resisted the urge to drop her head into her hands and instead forged ahead, desperate to have this done. “I’m responsible for this mess, and I won’t leave Juliet to suffer for my mistakes in my place.”
Juliet was staring at her, her eyes enormous in her pale face. “You’d toss away your chance at happiness to…what, Emmeline? Appease the ton? Satisfy Lord Cudworth, a man willing to destroy another lady’s reputation so he can have Lady Christine Dingley’s fortune?”
