Anne Ashley - Lord Hawkridge's Secret

‘I think perhaps one of them would,’ was the soft rejoinder.

Emily was not slow to detect the change in her friend’s demeanour. ‘Why, you’re looking very serious all of a sudden! Whatever’s the matter?’

For a second or two Sarah appeared to find the toes of her soft pink slippers of immense interest, then she said quietly, ‘When I was over at the Hall today, I discovered that Charles had returned the previous afternoon with a friend of his from London…Lord Hawkridge.’

Only for an instant did Emily check before sliding her fingers into her long evening gloves. ‘I have been acquainted with the Deverels for almost five years, and yet I never realised that Charles knew Hawk. Dear me. Life is full of surprises! Grandfather, I do not doubt, will be delighted to see him.’

‘And you?’ Sarah prompted gently.

Emily’s shrug of indifference was not wholly convincing. ‘I suppose our paths were bound to cross again sooner or later. The aunt I visit in Brighton each summer is planning to take her eldest daughter to London next spring, and was hoping I would join them. I felt that, if I did go, I would be certain to bump into Sebastian at some point. The meeting has come a little earlier than expected, that is all. Come, let us repair downstairs. We don’t want to leave Grandfather waiting.’

Throughout the short journey to the Hall, Emily was acutely aware of Sarah’s keen regard. And how clever of her not to be fooled! she mused, desperately striving to maintain at least the appearance of the self-possession that she was far from experiencing.

She could quite easily, she supposed, have feigned a sore head and declined to attend the party at the last moment. But that was a coward’s way out, and it simply wasn’t in her nature to behave like a frightened child and run away from unpleasant situations. Added to which it stood to reason that, as he was in the area, Sebastian would pay a visit to the house sooner or later, if not to see her then at least to pay his respects to her grandfather. Surely it was better to come face to face with him this first time, after so many years, in a crowded room, where she would be obliged to exchange a few brief words, and could easily escape by mixing with the other guests, than go through the agony of seeing him alone, where the strain of attempting to hide her continuing regard for him might prove just too much even for her? She wasn’t so foolish as to suppose that it would be easy to keep those more tender feelings well hidden, especially from someone who had never evinced the least difficulty in reading her moods, but she knew she must endeavour to make the attempt.

Their arrival at the Hall coincided with that of several other neighbours, and they had perforce to await their turn before alighting at the impressive front entrance. The Restoration mansion looked as fine as it had on those occasions years before when Sir Augustus and Lady Deverel had entertained lavishly. Emily could fully appreciate now why her friend had been absent for much of the day, for there seemed to be a vase of flowers, beautifully arranged, and exuding the most delightful fragrance, on every available table in the spacious hall; and many, many more, she swiftly discovered, were decorating the large salon where the party was being held.

For a few brief moments she was able to set aside her own concerns as she stood in line to greet the host and hostess, and noticed Charles’s eyes widen a fraction when they fell upon Sarah. The Dowager Lady Deverel, standing beside her handsome son, greeted each member of the party graciously, and even Drusilla, looking positively radiant in a dazzling creation of white gauze over satin, was prompted to remark upon the elegance of both Sarah’s and Emily’s gowns.

‘Would I be correct in supposing that Drusilla has been warned to be on her best behaviour this evening?’ Emily remarked in an undertone, as they quickly moved away from the entrance in order to allow the next party of guests to greet their host and hostess, and her grandfather had made directly for the masculine company to be found in the room set out for cards.

Sarah couldn’t forbear a smile. ‘I could not say with certainty. But I do know that Charles was not best pleased to discover that the affair was to be far grander than first planned. Furthermore, you must give Drusilla her due. She might be terribly spoilt, but she’s definitely no fool. It is her ambition to make a truly splendid match, and showing a sulky face to the polite world isn’t likely to attract many contenders for her hand. I believe she has set her sights quite high—a countess, no less, although Godmama mentioned earlier, when I was here, that her daughter is rather taken with your Lord Hawkridge.’

‘He isn’t my Lord Hawkridge,’ Emily countered, hoping that she hadn’t sounded waspish, but fearing from her friend’s suddenly guilt-ridden expression that she had. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. As you might have guessed already I am a trifle on edge this evening.’

The fingers of her left hand received a brief, reassuring squeeze as Emily raised her eyes and looked about the room for that tall, well-remembered figure. She didn’t immediately perceive him standing amidst a group of gentlemen in the far corner of the room. It was only when he turned his head and she received the full impact of an unwavering gaze from all too perceptive grey eyes that she realised that the gentleman immaculately attired in a long-tailed black coat, which emphasised the breadth of superb masculine shoulders, and tight-fitting trousers, which did little to hide the muscular shapeliness of long legs, was none other than the being who continued to plague her dreams all too frequently even after all these years.

‘Oh, dear God! He’s coming over,’ she muttered, striving to control the sudden pounding of that erratic organ beneath her ribcage. ‘Why couldn’t the wretched creature have allowed me at least a few minutes in order to compose myself?’

Although Emily had finally revealed her true state of mind, Sarah wouldn’t have supposed for a moment that the young woman beside her was suffering the least distress, for on the surface she appeared remarkably composed, extending a steady hand, which was immediately captured and retained in shapely fingers, and greeting the man whom she had never ceased to love without so much as a tremor in her pleasantly mellow voice.

‘Hello, Em,’ he responded in a deep, throaty tone that was no less appealing than the smile he bestowed upon her, before glancing briefly in Sarah’s direction.

Emily, quite beautifully maintaining her control, was not slow to perform the introductions. ‘I do not believe you are acquainted with my friend Miss Nichols, Lord Hawkridge.’

‘No, I have not had the pleasure,’ he admitted, releasing Emily’s fingers in order to clasp Sarah’s small hand briefly in his own.

‘You were out when I arrived at the house, sir,’ she hurriedly remarked in an attempt to hold his attention and allow Emily time to take a few steadying breaths. ‘You had driven over to see Sir George Maynard, I believe.’

‘I didn’t realise that you were acquainted with our local magistrate, Hawk,’ Emily commented, easily regaining his full attention.

‘Oh, we’ve bumped into each other on a few occasions at our club, don’t you know.’

Sarah detected her friend’s slight frown at the drawled response, but was unable to remain to offer further support, for Lady Deverel was attempting to catch her eye, and she was obliged to slip away.

‘Pretty girl,’ his lordship remarked, taking out his snuffbox, and receiving a second frowning glance. ‘What’s wrong, Em?’ he asked as deep blue eyes looked him over from the carefully dishevelled arrangement of his mid-brown locks down to his fashionably clad feet. ‘Don’t I pass muster?’