Suzanne Allain - Incognito

Lady Smithfield, who had greater ambitions for Emily now that her sister was making so creditable a match, was displeased to see her paying such close attention to a penniless curate. What had she been thinking to invite him for dinner? He was much too attractive. She called Emily away on some fictitious errand, but before the evening was over, Emily and Alexander were able to arrange an “accidental” meeting the next day in the village, with Lydia and Sedgewick in tow.

Over breakfast the next morning, Emily and Lydia were alarmed to hear their mother announce the arrival of another missive from the duke of Alford.

Lady Smithfield eagerly scanned the letter while her daughters silently waited. “How peculiar,” Lady Smithfield finally said, her brow wrinkled in confusion. “The duke writes that Lord Wesleigh left London for Stonehurst Friday last week. Stonehurst is only a four-hour trip from London. He should have arrived by now. I hope he did not suffer an accident along the way.”

Emily was relieved. Whatever was delaying Wesleigh she hoped it continued to delay him for at least another sennight. She needed more time to push Lydia’s romance along. She doubted even a sennight would be long enough, but it was better than nothing.

Lydia was guilt-stricken. She was sure her hope that Wesleigh would meet with an accident had been fulfilled. How could she have been so evil as to wish bad on her fellowman? If Wesleigh arrived this instant, she would gladly marry him, if only as penance for the wicked thoughts she’d entertained toward him.

Lady Smithfield, who had continued to read the duke’s letter, interrupted her daughters’ tempestuous thoughts to make another announcement. “Oh, my. Oh, my! Lydia, Emily, the duke of Alford is coming here! He will arrive Tuesday evening next week. There is barely enough time to prepare! I must consult with Cook, and the Green Suite must be prepared, oh, heavens, there is so much to do. A duke, in my house. Who would have ever thought it? There is not a moment to lose.” Lady Smithfield hurried from the dining room, while Lydia and Emily looked at each other in amazement.

Lydia broke the silence at last by announcing with a look of grim determination on her pretty face: “I think, Emily, that it’s my duty to marry Lord Wesleigh.”

“That is nonsense. Marriage should not be undertaken as a matter of duty . Just because you are too in awe of the duke to tell him that you do not wish to marry his son does not mean you should spend the rest of your life in misery. And not only you, but what of Sedgewick? And Wesleigh? They will both be miserable as well. Why, I’d say it’s your duty not to go through with this sham of a marriage.”

Lydia seemed much struck by this argument, as Emily hoped she would be. Her sister was a very obedient, dutiful girl, and it went against her nature to rebel against anything. But if Emily were to convince her a match with Sedgewick was the right thing to do, she might just be able to pull it off.

“Just think, Lydia, you will have to pledge before God that you will love, honor, and obey your husband. It would be a lie, feeling as you do about Sedgewick. You would not want to lie, would you Lydia?”

“I had not thought of it in that respect. You’re right, Emily. That would be sinful. But if you married Lord Wesleigh, you would have to make the same vows. How could you do it?”

Emily had not expected to have her logic thrown back in her face. “If I were to make that vow, it would not be a lie, as I do not love any other gentleman, and I plan to do all in my power to make Lord Wesleigh a good wife,” she finally managed to reply.

Lydia seemed satisfied with that response, but Emily continued to think about Lydia’s question long after the conversation had ended. It was true that her heart did not belong to another, but she felt without very much effort she could lose it to Mr. Williams. He was so very attractive. When she spoke with him she felt an excitement that she had never known before. Could she marry a man who didn’t make her pulse flutter like Mr. Williams did, whose eyes did not hold the sparkle and life that she saw in his? Then again, could she marry a man who did not even have a home to take her to, a penniless curate who seemed to be making little effort to advance? No. It was foolish to fall in love with such a man. Once Sedgewick’s attachment to Lydia was assured, she would have no need to seek out Mr. Williams’s company, and she would continue with her original plan of convincing Lord Wesleigh to have her as a wife, instead of Lydia.

Satisfied to have reached a proper conclusion to her dilemma, although unable to account for her sudden lowering of spirits, Emily sought out Lydia. It was time to convince her to walk with her to the village to buy some ribbons.

Emily had felt a pleasurable tinge of guilt the previous evening, making an assignation with Mr. Williams to meet him on the High Street in the morning, and she was experiencing a similar excitement at the prospect of seeing him again. She sternly told herself to stop being foolish, but she could barely school her features into an expression of calm disinterest when she saw him. Turning toward Lydia, she said as nonchalantly as she could manage: “Look there, Lydia. Mr. Sedgewick appears to be walking this way with his friend, Mr. Williams.”

Lydia was having a hard time appearing disinterested herself. “I do believe you’re right, Emily.”

The girls acknowledged the gentlemen with a polite nod and a smile, which was all the encouragement the gentlemen needed to join them.

“If you ladies have finished all your errands, may we accompany you home?” Mr. Williams asked, falling into step with Emily.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

Emily and Williams trailed behind Lydia and Sedgewick, and Emily deliberately slowed her pace to put more distance between them.

“Twisted your ankle, have you?” Williams asked Emily, an expression of mock sympathy on his face.

“You know I have not; I am trying to allow Lydia and Sedgewick some time alone together,” she hissed back at him, as Lydia and Sedgewick were still within hearing distance.

“You mustn’t allow them to get too far ahead of us or she’ll think she’s been compromised.”

“Why, that would be perfect, then they would have to marry.”

“Yes, but is it part of your plan to put yourself in a compromising position with me?”

“No, of course not, that is the last thing in the world I want.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but it was what Emily had been trying to convince herself was true, so her denial may have been expressed a shade too vehemently.

Alexander was somewhat disappointed by this emphatic response, but then again, what did he expect? Had he expected her to announce that her fervent desire in life was to be forced to marry an undistinguished curate? What stunned him was how much he had wanted her to imply something of the sort. He swallowed his disappointment and decided instead to discover the answer to some of the questions that had been puzzling him.

“So if that is not your plan, then what is, if I may be so bold as to inquire?”

“Whatever do you mean? You know my plan. It is to see Lydia marry the man of her choice, the man she truly loves.”

“This other man, the one you mentioned in our conversation the previous evening, is he so odious a man that Miss Smithfield cannot like him?” Alexander asked.

“Yes. No. Actually, I do not know. We have not made the gentleman’s acquaintance.”

“Yet you say he is Sedgewick’s superior in position and fortune. Would not he be the better match for your sister?”