Page 51 of Not Just Any Earl
He’d seen it in her face, in her gray-blue eyes.
“I’m afraid it’s more than merely a dislike of gossip, my lord. Emmeline imagines her sister sent back to Hambleden Manor in disgrace to languish, never able to return to London again without the ton making her feel ashamed of herself.”
Ashamed. Johnathan flinched at the word. That was how Emmeline had felt, these past three years. He knew it instinctively, without Lady Fosberry having to say a word.
“Juliet hasn’t done anything wrong, Lord Melrose. Emmeline said this over and over again last night when she begged me to allow her to return home, and then again, this morning. I assure you she feels every bit of her error over this Lady in Lavender nonsense, and she isn’t one to let her sister suffer for her mistakes.”
“Of course not, but—”
“There’s something else, as well.” Lady Fosberry laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Perhaps you don’t know this, but James Templeton died within a year of Alice Templeton abandoning the family.”
Johnathan nodded. “Emmeline said as much the day we went to visit Lady Hammond’s roses, after that scene with Lady Dingley and Lady Christine.”
Lady Fosberry’s expression hardened at the mention of the Dingleys. “You may be certain I won’t forget or easily forgive the Dingleys’ part in all of this, nor Lord Cudworth’s. As for the Templeton sisters, they tend to regard their mother’s scandal and father’s death as two parts of the same tragedy. Intertwined, you see. Not rationally—I don’t know that they even realize they see it thus—but in their hearts. Particularly Emmeline and Euphemia, the eldest.”
“You know them very well,” Johnathan murmured.
“I do. The more one knows them, the more one loves them—all five of them. Indeed, my lord, I tell you all this not to discourage you, but because I hope with all my heart you can talk sense into Emmeline, for her sake and your own.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“Emmeline wants persuading, and I fancy you’re just the gentleman to do it, but I do think you should know that a battle lies ahead of you.”
“Never fear, Lady Fosberry.” Johnathan managed a small smile as he rose to his feet. “I don’t intend to give up until I do persuade Emmeline. We gentlemen may not be as mysterious as we think, but we’re persistent.”
Lady Fosberry smiled. “Well then, there’s nothing more to say, is there? Go and fetch our sweet girl, Lord Melrose.”
Lady Fosberry remained in her private sitting room for some time after Lord Melrose took his leave, until she was roused from her thoughts by Juliet, who appeared at the open door. “Was that Lord Melrose?”
“It was, indeed. Come here, dearest.” Lady Fosberry held out her hand with an encouraging smile. “Shall I ring for refreshments?”
“No, I’m not hungry.” Juliet took her hand and let herself be drawn down onto the settee. She gazed out the window for some time without speaking, then she said, “Emmeline’s gone back to Hambleden Manor, hasn’t she?”
“I’m afraid so, but my dear girl, don’t look so despairing. All hope isn’t lost. Lord Melrose is going after her.”
Another silence, then Juliet said in a small voice, “Emmeline is dreadfully stubborn, my lady. Do you think Lord Melrose will be able to make her see reason?”
Yes, of course. I’m certain of it…
Those and a thousand other assurances rose to Lady Fosberry’s lips, but the truth was, she wasn’t certain of anything. So, she said only, “I hope so, dearest. We’ll have to wait and see.”
Juliet nodded, then fell silent again, and this time she remained so for some time. “Did Lord Melrose mention…did he say anything about Lord Cross?”
Ah, Lord Cross.
Another gentleman in love, and one with even less idea what to do about it than Lord Melrose. Of all the gentlemen in London Juliet might have chosen to gift with her heart, Lord Cross might be the most hopeless of them all.
Yet there was something perfect about the two of them, all the same. The sun and moon shared the same sky, after all, and the world hadn’t come crashing down upon them yet.
“No, dearest, he didn’t mention Lord Cross.”
Juliet nodded again, but there was no mistaking her forlorn expression, her uncharacteristic listlessness.
“Did you know, my love, that Lord Cross has a handsome hunting box in Oxfordshire? He hosts a house party there every year, so that he and all the other fashionable gentlemen can rush about the country and terrorize the poor grouse. I daresay he’s gone off there, or will go, quite soon.”
“Lord Cross may do whatever he likes, and welcome.” Juliet gave a disdainful sniff. “It doesn’t matter a whit to me.”
“Of course not, dearest, but I’ve been invited to attend his hunting party, and I thought you might enjoy coming along. It’s perfectly proper for you to attend with me as your chaperone, and I’ve been longing to leave behind the grime of London and venture into the bracing country air.”
