Page 126 of A Foolish Flirtation

But it had been wildly unrealistic of him to think he could ever get that back. Trying to tease her, as he had in the old days, trying so desperately to get back onto the same footing they had once shared had been both arrogant and miscalculated. Emmeline had been right. Those days were over and ought to be allowed to fade into the past.

That conservatory he had hired Wimble to build, God, yet another horrendous blunder. She would be appalled to learn that he had thought such a thing would be an appropriate bride-gift. His stupidity almost took his breath away. For him, that night was a treasured memory but for her…the polar opposite.

He would get Wimble to convert his plans into an orangery. Or would that still be offensive? Jeremy did not really know at this point. His poor character was doubtless to blame. He breathed out. The sad fact was, he needed to ignore the promptings of his heart when it came to his wife.

Instead, he should be grateful for what she did allow him. Living a life of stifled politeness was a small price to pay if it ensured Emmeline’s continued presence in it. Standing up from the chair, he decided to make his way back to the house a little early today.

That way he could smooth things over with Emmeline before luncheon and show himself in his most amenable light. She would be relieved to see he could be reasonable and correct his behavior given time to reflect on his many failings. She would see that marrying him was not a huge lapse of judgment on her part.

Returning to the house, his heart still heavy, he found Teddy taking his leave of Miss Pinson on the front steps. He hailed the lady and asked about the morning’s lessons, eyeing his son sternly all the while. She was quick to assure him that Teddy had been most assiduous to his books and Teddy stood looking chastened and meek.

Jeremy professed himself glad to hear it and they waved her off as the carriage swept down the drive bearing her back to Plumtree Cottage. Teddy, eyeing his father shrewdly as they reentered the house, expressed a desire to return to his nursery for a quiet afternoon, for he did not feel like joining the others for luncheon, especially if Mama was not here for it.

Jeremy paused on the bottom step. “Mama is not here for lunch?” he repeated. His mind raced. Had he forgotten some engagement?

“No,” Teddy replied, bounding up the staircase before him. “She took Lottie with her but will be back before dinner.”

Jeremy followed him up the stairs with a frown on his face and they parted ways at the top, as Teddy made for his nursery and Jeremy turned toward his own rooms. Where could she have gone? Into St. Ives? She had expressed a wish to explore that little town. Maybe she thought he would skip lunch again today and she could not face such dreary company without him?

That thought perked him up a little but then instantly he felt annoyed that he had not thought to invite her to lunch in St. Ives himself. He knew just the spot she would enjoy. Now, he would have to sit opposite Wimble and Penrose for his sins and reflect further on his own shortcomings.

Tugging at his cravat, he walked through to his dressing room and saw the envelope propped up on his chest of drawers.

30

Emmeline thanked the fresh-faced young maid, who bobbed a curtsey, nodded to Lottie, and then trotted out of the small parlor to let Humphrey know that Lady Faris awaited him below in one of the private parlors.

“Do you know her?” Emmie asked nervously as Lottie settled herself unobtrusively into a corner seat.

“Corin? Oh yes, her family’s lived in these parts for years. Nice girl. She was in domestic service at Vance Park for a while, though it was before your time, mind you.”

“Really? She looks very young.” Emmie sat down, then stood up again. What was the etiquette for meeting with a former suitor who turned out to have been married the whole time? She did not think any manual on manners would cover quite such an eventuality.

Lottie was looking about the place with lively interest. “Have you ever visited this inn before?” Emmie asked her, nervously clasping her hands together. She was wearing a new pair of kid gloves embroidered with her initials E.V. Suddenly she remembered how the debutantes would whisper about “the hidden language of gloves.”

All she could remember now was that flinging one over your shoulder meant “follow me” and wearing one hanging halfway off your left hand meant indifference. Or was it the right hand? She couldn’t quite recall. Maybe she should drag one halfway off to let Humphrey know how little she cared for him these days?

“I’ve never been here before,” Lottie replied cheerfully. “My old mum never quite liked the place, on account of its former associations. Course, it’s gone quite respectable now. In spite of the prizefighting what’s held here on the second Friday of every month. Quite nice, isn’t it? I like the horse brasses. Polished up nice and bright, aren’t they?”

Lottie’s prattle soothed Emmie’s spirits, and she agreed that yes, the room looked very clean and cheerful despite the dark wooden screen and elaborately etched glass. She felt a little guilty that this, her first visit, was being conducted on such surreptitious terms.

She had not seen her sister-in-law, but she had caught a glimpse of William Nye through an open door to the tap room. She did not think he had seen her though. She hoped he had not, in any case. Emmie felt furtive and underhand but really, it was much better this way.

If she could just send Humphrey on his way before Jeremy so much as heard he was in the neighborhood, then the whole business could be over and done with before it could cause them too much fuss and pother. A knock on the door had Emmie whipping around to face it.

“Come in,” she called, her voice not quite steady, but to her surprise, it was not Humphrey, but William Nye who stood in the doorway, a tea towel flung over his shoulder and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Lady Faris,” he said, clearing his throat.

Emmie tried not to look as horrified by his appearance as she felt. “Mr. Nye!”

“Thought I recognized the carriage outside,” he said.

“Really? But I did not bring the one with the crest,” she said and then blushed guiltily.

One dark eyebrow shot up at this rejoinder, but he made no comment on this. “Thought you might want to know, we’ve got a private parlor for family use,” he said, angling a thumb over his shoulder. “Want me to show it to you? I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in there.”

“Oh.” Emmie’s face fell. “That’s very kind of you, but you see, I am not here as family today but rather at one of your patron’s requests.” She flushed at her clumsy explanation. “I should not want our business to intrude on family quarters,” she said earnestly. “It wouldn’t be right.”