Page 20 of A Murder, a Marquess, and Miss Mifford
"I can see the truth with my own eyes," Mrs Mifford grumbled, nodding in the direction of the handsome pair.
The two gentlemen had brought their steeds to a halt alongside the Gardner's carriage, and Mr Fitzgibbons was chatting with great animation to Miss Gardner and her mama. Mr Bunting, however, looked most uncomfortable, and though Lady Francesca batted her eyelashes and fiddled with her bonnet, he did not direct his gaze her way.
There was something familiar about Mr Bunting, Emily decided as she observed his profile. Then, as though he had heard her thoughts, the young gentlemen turned his head her way, and Emily gave a gasp of recognition.
He was the fellow whom Emily had spotted sharing a passionate embrace with Lady Francesca at Lady Collins'musicale.Mr Bunting gave a frown, as he tried to decipher just where he knew Emily from, but thankfully, as the carriage continued along the Row, she was soon out of sight.
Emily fidgeted nervously with her gloves, as a wave of guilt washed over her for her earlier mean-spirited thoughts towards Lady Francesca. No wonder the poor girl had looked so wan; the young lady must have been expecting a proposal after being so generous with her favours, now Mr Bunting would not even look at her. What a rake he was!
As Emily pondered the cruelty some men were capable of, her mother kept up a running commentary on everyone who passed.
"There's Lady Hickletrough and her eldest daughter. She never did manage to marry her off and one doesn't struggle to guess why."
"Oh, there's Lady Archer. She's found herself a new dressmaker, I see. I must ask her for their name, so I know to avoid them."
"Oh, doesn't Sir Cadogan look pleased with himself? I can't imagine why withthatunfortunate nose."
While Emily had ignored most of her mother's acerbic comments, she glanced up at the mention of Sir Cadogan's name. Mrs Mifford's observation that Sir Cadogan looked pleased with himself was true, the squire wore a very satisfied smile which near eclipsed his bulbous red nose.
"Cadogan, old chap," another rider called out as he passed him, "You look like the cat that's got the cream."
"I've just had some very good news, Boyne," the squire called back, his words sounding a little slurred to Emily's ears, "Truly marvellous."
Emily longed to join in the conversation and shout out to ask Sir Cadogan what this wonderful news was, but the rules of propriety did not allow young ladies to hang out of carriages bellowing at gentlemen they did not know. Which was a pity.
Sir Cadogan, who was riding in the opposite direction, soon disappeared from view, and Emily settled back into her seat, as Mrs Mifford resumed her running commentary on everyone her beady eye happened to land upon.
The family spent another half hour parading along the Row, until Mrs Mifford was satisfied that they had been seen by enough people.
"What fun that was," she exclaimed, as they drove through the far gate onto Serpentine Road, "Wasn't that fun, girls?"
"Thrilling," Jane replied, dryly.
Her brown eyes wore a glazed look, and Emily guessed that her sister had spent a large portion of the ride daydreaming that she was elsewhere. Ivo, too, looked bored and restless, and was distractedly tapping the heel of his Hessian boot in time with the horses' clopping hooves. They were, Emily thought, as she glanced between them, a couple most unsuited to the rigidity of London society.
"We must hurry back," Mrs Mifford continued, "And dress for Lady Wilcox's gala."
"Oh, yes, we wouldn't want to be late for that," Jane agreed, though as she caught Emily's eye she winked conspiratorially.
London could be chaotic, confusing, and cruel, but Emily was glad that no matter how far from home they travelled, her sisters would never change.
"Is that my new reticule?" Jane queried suddenly, and Emily's fondness for her sister's consistency of character vanished.
"Honestly, between you, Eudora, and Mary, it's a wonder I have a stitch of clothing left to my name. Whoever said sisters were a blessing did not have to deal with you lot," Jane began, and continued her diatribe against her thieving siblings the whole way back to St James' Square.
Lady Wilcox's opulent home in Belgravia was bursting at the seams with the great and good of London society. Under the glittering chandeliers of the ballroom, couples dressed in silks and satins--and that was just the men--danced to the music provided by an orchestral quartet in the corner. The smell of beeswax, expensive perfumes, and flowers filled the air, and as Emily wandered from room to room, she could not help but be mesmerised by the sheer glamour of the evening.
In the corner of one room, she spotted Mrs Sarah Siddons--the besttragedienneto have ever walked the stage--holding court with the thespian set. In another room, she spied Mr Wilberforce--the esteemed politician and trumpeter of abolition--in deep debate with several egalitarians. And, then, much to her delight, Prinny stalked past, trailed by a courtier, complaining loudly about the food.
Emily was so starstruck at having seen the Prince Regent at such close range, that she did not hear Lord Chambers sneaking up behind her, until he pointedly cleared his throat.
"A-hem," he said, somehow managing to convey in two syllables his utter surprise that his glittering presence had not immediately caught her eye.
"Lord Chambers," Emily turned and dropped into a quick curtsy to hide the confusion she felt at seeing him again. A kaleidoscope of butterflies appeared to have taken up residence in her stomach, and when she rose from her curtsy and caught a glint of amusement in the marquess' sky-blue eyes, they took flight again.
"I hope the funeral went well," Emily said, clearing her throat in an attempt to sound more serious than she felt.
"As well as these things can," the marquess answered easily, watching her with an indecipherable gaze.
