How Miss Rutherford Got Her Groove Back Read online

  Emily let out a small sigh of relief. She knew what she was being told was true, but it was still nice to have it confirmed. Adrian was, as Mrs. Hughes had said, a true gentleman. He was kind and generous, but above all else he was honorable.

  “So as you see, you must prepare yourself, my dear. He will undoubtedly broach the subject with you this very evening. If I am correct in my assumptions, you may find yourself to be engaged no later than tomorrow morning,” Mrs. Hughes told her.

  That had Emily’s nerves playing havoc all over again. Would Adrian really propose to her that very evening? Her stomach fluttered at the mere thought of it. However would she keep herself together until he did? She was sure she would be a total wreck by the time she saw him that evening.

  “You mentioned that there were two things that might interest us?” Claire suddenly asked, breaking Emily’s spell. “What was the other?”

  “Oh, I merely wished to inform you that Francis Riley, the Earl of Dunhurst, is visiting Coldwell Manor this week and possibly even next, as well. As I recall, he is also a friend of yours. Is he not?”

  Emily groaned inwardly. It was true that she had met Francis on numerous occasions while growing up. He was Adrian’s cousin, sharing the same maternal grandparents, but all similarities ended there.

  Where Adrian was fair-haired, Francis was dark. Where Adrian was open and warm, Francis was forever brooding. One could always count on Adrian for a good laugh, but Francis . . . Emily wondered when she had last seen him smile.

  She seemed to recall that he hadn’t always been that way. Hadn’t they all enjoyed playing together as children? They’d all been happy back then, including Francis. In fact, Francis had been a closer friend to her then than Adrian had been, but somewhere along the way he had changed and Emily couldn’t help but wonder why.

  “Francis!” Emily heard Claire exclaim. “But he’s positively dull!”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say,” Beatrice scolded her sister. “I really wish that you would learn to keep such statements to yourself, particularly when we have guests.”

  “Oh, it’s quite all right,” Mrs. Hughes told them. “After all, everyone knows that Lord Dunhurst has a somewhat stern demeanor. However, I do not think he is unkind.”

  “I never suggested that he was,” Claire said pointedly, as Beatrice and Emily cringed at her rudeness.

  “In any event, it is hardly our place to judge him,” Beatrice concluded in an attempt to smooth over her sister’s last statement. “I am sure that there is a valid reason for his being the way he is. In any case, it is his business and not ours.”

  Emily gave a slight sigh as she smiled at her older sister. “You always were a diplomat, Bea,” she said. “But in this instance I really must agree with Claire. Francis is an absolute bore. On top of that, he’s stern to the point of rudeness. I understand he wasn’t always this way, but what matters is what he has become.”

  Beatrice didn’t respond. Her reprimanding glare told Emily just how disappointed she was in her. Must she always behave properly then, flattering even those who did not deserve flattering? But she loved her elder sister and had no wish to embarrass her in public.

  “Oh, I daresay,” Mrs. Hughes suddenly remarked as she strained her neck to peer out the window. “It does appear as if the gentleman in question has come to call upon you.”

  “Who? Francis?” Claire exclaimed, turning in her seat in order to have a look.

  “It would appear so, yes,” Mrs. Hughes remarked as she raised her spectacles to her eyes. “He’s securing his horse to your fence as we speak—beautiful creature, I must say. Then again, Lord Dunhurst always did have impeccable taste when it came to horses.”

  Beatrice hurried to the door, straightening her apron as she went. If she was put out of sorts by receiving more guests in one afternoon than they usually received in the course of a whole week, she hid it exceedingly well. Emily was quite impressed with her sister’s ability to remain calm and undeterred by it all. Even if none of them were particularly fond of Francis, he was an earl after all.

  When he appeared a moment later in the doorway, Emily was incapable of ignoring just how stiff and awkward he looked. In fact, there was something about him that suggested that this was truly the last place in the world he wished to be.

  Yet there was one thing by which she was somewhat taken aback. Francis was far more handsome than she remembered him. It was perhaps two years since she had seen him last, and it was quite clear that her mind had chosen only to remember the faults that she had found with his personality. When it came to looks, he certainly had no equal. Not even Adrian could measure up to him in that regard, though Emily felt a twinge of disloyalty for thinking it.

  But Francis was a fine specimen: tall and lean with broad shoulders. His thick black hair, cut short, still retained an untidy look that Emily found oddly appealing. His eyes were dark, as though filled with concern and sadness; his nose perfectly straight like that of Michelangelo’s David. He was clean-shaven to expose a chiseled jaw line and a mouth that mirrored the look in his eyes.

  “Miss Emily, Miss Claire,” he said as he glanced at both Claire and Emily in turn, giving each of them a curt nod. “Mrs. Hughes.”

  “Lord Dunhurst,” they each said, returning his greeting.

  “Would you like to have a cup of tea?” Beatrice asked as she pushed her way past him in the doorway, already heading for the china cabinet.

  “Oh, no, please don’t trouble yourself on my account, Miss Rutherford,” he told her as he carelessly beat the tip of his riding crop against his brown leather boots. Emily guessed that it must be some form of habit, brought about when he was agitated about something.

  “Then by all means, please tell us how else we may be of service to you,” Beatrice said, her voice a little more tense than usual. Perhaps his presence here had rattled her a bit after all.

  The situation was ridiculous. They had all known each other since they were children. They had run about in the garden, called one another by their given names. Yet here they were behaving more formally than ever. A slight smile played upon Emily’s lips as she contemplated how fun it would have been if he had simply marched in and said “Beatrice, Emily, and Claire—I happened to be stopping by and thought you might like to catch some frogs with me, for old time’s sake . . .” Yet here they were with the formal addresses, acting as if they barely knew one another.

  “Adrian tells me that you will be attending the ball this evening,” Francis said with a hint of dryness in his voice. “It will be quite a distance for you to walk in all your finery. Perhaps you would like for us to send a carriage?”

  “That is indeed very generous of you,” Beatrice told him. She looked across at her sisters who both appeared eager to accept. It would at least ensure that their white muslin gowns would still be clean upon arrival at Coldwell Manor. “We accept your offer, with many thanks.”

  Francis gave her a curt nod before regarding the other women present. “It is settled then. You may expect the carriage at seven thirty.”

  “Thank you very much indeed, Francis,” Emily replied. She’d had enough of formalities. Besides, Lord Dunhurst needed to loosen up a bit, though he didn’t seem quite as stiff as she remembered.

  His dark eyes settled on her when she spoke his name, narrowing slightly as he regarded her solemnly. Emily couldn’t help but smile slightly at provoking him. It was very clear he found her form of address far too familiar. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was because she and her sisters were no longer of the same social rank as he.

  Of course it was.

  Emily’s smile faded as she suddenly saw the situation from Francis’s point of view. He was an earl. How embarrassing it must be for him to have to come here on such an errand. If it hadn’t been for Adrian’s thoughtfulness . . . well, thank goodness for that.

  “Well, I shan’t detain you any longer,” Francis told them, his eyes still on Emily. “I look forward to seeing you a
ll this evening.”

  “Mrs. Hughes,” he then said, giving the woman yet another curt nod. He then addressed each of the three sisters in turn, made a gracious bow, and turned on his heel and left.

  They watched through the windows as he swung himself up into the saddle and started off at a canter.

  “Well! He is far more handsome than I recalled,” Claire remarked, breaking the silence that he had left behind.

  “And he wasn’t nearly as stern as I remembered him, either,” Beatrice added. “Though I daresay he was a bit put out by the liberty you took, Emily, in addressing him so casually.”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks,” Emily exclaimed as she rolled her eyes heavenward. “It was obvious that he had no desire to be here. I merely meant to provoke him slightly.”

  “And a fine job you did,” Beatrice told her with a sigh.

  “Oh, Bea, the man is insufferable. We were friends once—close friends, but now, ever since Mama and Papa died and our situation is no longer what it used to be, he suddenly expects us to address him formally. Well I shan’t, Bea, and if that irks him, well then he is indeed a far greater snob than I ever would have imagined.”

  “Emily, please do try to make an effort this evening. At least for my sake, and for Claire’s. I do not wish for you to cause a scene simply because you’ve suddenly decided to thwart the rules of society.”

  Emily sighed deeply as she regarded her sisters thoughtfully. “Very well,” she finally said. “I shall call him Lord Dunhurst for your sakes alone, but I shall do it very begrudgingly.” She added the last part with a sulky expression that instantly lightened the mood.

  “Whatever the case,” Mrs. Hughes now told them. “It does appear that he is a very eligible gentleman indeed. Perhaps you might consider this, should he invite you to dance with him this evening.”

  Beatrice and Claire both chuckled, reddening with embarrassment, while Emily groaned at the prospect of having Lord Riley as her brother-in-law for all eternity.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The night was warm, the air filled with the scent of honeysuckle, as the sisters walked down their garden path to the carriage that awaited them. In the distance came the sound of frogs croaking—a sound to which Emily had a sentimental attachment. It reminded her of the rare summer evenings when, as a child, her father would take her and her sisters outside to stargaze. She smiled at the memory. Those had been happy days for all of them.

  The carriage rolled along at a steady pace, lurching only slightly whenever it hit a bump in the road. Claire’s eyes sparkled with joy at the experience. It had been a very long time indeed since they had had the pleasure of enjoying a carriage ride.

  “So far this has been a wonderful evening,” she exclaimed to her sisters, who returned her enthusiasm with warm smiles. “I do wish that we could do this more often.”

  The driveway’s gravel crunched beneath the horse’s hooves as they drove up to the front door. A smartly dressed footman set down the steps, then helped each of the sisters alight. They then made their way up the stone steps toward the grand foyer of Coldwell Manor.

  “Beatrice, Emily, Claire! How good of you to come,” a gentle voice exclaimed, the minute they made their entrance.

  They all turned toward the tall, slender figure that approached them—beautifully dressed in a richly embroidered gown trimmed with lace and ribbons.

  “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Thank you so much for inviting us, Lady Carroway,” Emily smiled. “We’ve been looking forward to this evening ever since we received the invitation.”

  “You look lovely, all three of you. I hope you shall enjoy a few dances before the night is over. There are a number of gentlemen who are very eager to make your acquaintances. I hope you do not mind my introducing them to you?” she asked, looking suddenly worried that she might have done something inappropriate. Taking Beatrice’s arm, she steered the three sisters toward the ballroom.

  “Not at all,” Beatrice grinned. “We shall welcome all gentlemen who wish to speak with us. How else are we to find suitable husbands?”

  Although Beatrice had said it jokingly, Claire still managed a faint groan at her sister’s remark. Was it really necessary to be so frank about the fact that they were actively looking? It made them seem nothing short of desperate, a view that deeply colored her cheeks from sheer embarrassment as she looked about to ensure that no one else had heard.

  Picking up on her mortification, Lady Carroway made a quick attempt to soothe her. “It’s quite all right, Claire—your secret’s safe with me.”

  Obviously it had the opposite effect and did nothing but deepen the color in her cheeks. What a horrific moment this was turning out to be.

  “Well,” Lady Carroway continued. “I was wondering if you would mind it if I took a quick turn about the room with your sister. She and I have much to discuss,” she said pointedly as she turned her gaze on Emily.

  “Not at all,” Beatrice remarked.

  “Then let us go before Claire dies of embarrassment, which she seems just about ready to do at any moment.” Lady Carroway gave a small chuckle as she took hold of Emily’s arm and guided her away from her sisters.

  Light, wispy notes of music began to rise from the orchestra, signaling that the first dance was about to commence. When Emily craned her neck to ensure that her sisters were all right, she saw that they were already deeply immersed in conversation with a number of old acquaintances. She therefore allowed herself to give Lady Carroway her full attention.

  “You know that I have always been very fond of you, Emily—and your sisters,” the viscountess was now saying. “I know that you have had a difficult number of years. Losing both of your parents at such a young age was very hard on you, I know.” She paused momentarily as she glanced out over the dance floor, her posture as regal as that of any queen.

  “I have always considered you to be a part of this family, Emily, and have had the pleasure of watching you grow into the fine young woman that you are today—kind, nurturing, and full of joy.” She stopped as she pulled Emily to the side, where a large bay window overlooked the park-like grounds. She lowered her voice. “You have always been a loyal friend to Adrian. The way in which you look at him has not gone unnoticed, either. I know that you love him.”

  “I . . .” Emily began, but Lady Carroway raised her hand to stop the explanation that she knew was coming.

  “It’s quite all right, Emily. I am only too pleased that my son is fortunate enough to be loved by you. And I know that he loves you in return. That is what I wish to speak to you about,” she said with a brilliant gleam in her eyes. “Adrian has told us that he intends to marry. He would not elaborate on the matter, but I am certain that he intends to ask you.”

  Emily could barely contain her excitement, and yet, she couldn’t help the growing sense of unease that was gradually taking hold of her. “You are sure of this?” she asked.

  “I know that he adores you, Emily. I can’t think of anyone else that he might even consider. Can you?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Then don’t worry. It will all be settled very soon.” Lady Carroway put her hand reassuringly on Emily’s arm. “You shall make him very happy indeed, Emily, and as for us . . . well . . . we shall soon have a daughter.”

  Emotion flooded Emily’s body so rapidly at this final remark that she knew not whether to laugh or cry. As it turned out, she did both. How fortunate she was to be shown such love and acceptance from Adrian’s mother. On impulse she gave her future mother-in-law a hug, which was returned to her wholeheartedly.

  “Emily!”

  The familiar voice made her heart leap with joy as she pulled away from Lady Carroway’s embrace. Both women turned to find Adrian striding toward them with a radiant Kate on his arm. They made a handsome couple indeed, Emily thought. It made her feel all the more lucky that she had his love and friendship.

  “Adrian,” she gasped with a smile, still taken aback by his strikingly
handsome features, even after all these years. “It’s been a while since I last saw you.”

  “Too long,” he agreed as he tilted his head to kiss her on the cheek. It was a familiar gesture that he had adopted when they were children, and although it was done in a brotherly fashion, it had always filled Emily with warmth.

  “I see that you have wasted no time in attaching a beautiful lady to your arm,” Lady Carroway teased her son.

  Kate blushed ever so slightly at the remark. She knew that Mother Nature had endowed her with looks that were easy on the eyes, yet she was always embarrassed whenever it was brought into conversation. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Carroway,” she said in a muted voice.

  All Emily could think was how desperately she longed to drag her friend away to a private corner and insist she tell her everything about her trip to London and the gentleman who’d won her heart. But it would have to wait.

  “I suppose you wish to steel Emily away from me, Adrian. The two of you probably have much to discuss,” Lady Carroway commented as she gave her son a knowing look.

  “We do indeed, though I am afraid that it must wait, for I have just promised Kate that I would dance the next set with her.”

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Kate managed, looking slightly flushed and embarrassed. “The truth of it is that Adrian has been quite the gentleman. He saw me standing alone after Papa and Mama had gone off to talk to their friends, and well . . .”

  “I insisted that she accompany me until you arrived.”

  “I hope you do not mind too much, Emily. In fact, I’ve been eagerly waiting for you myself. We really must finish the conversation that we were having earlier.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Emily told her friend with a broad smile. “Why don’t the two of you go and enjoy yourselves. I can dance with Adrian afterward, and then you and I can have a little chat.”

  “That’s what I love about you, Emily—you’re always so agreeable,” Adrian grinned. “Ah, I hear the music starting as we speak. Come on, Kate, let’s show them how it’s done.”