The Demure Debutante - a Regency Novella (3 page)

“Well, as I was saying, you and I should go for a ride sometime. In breeches,” Willow suggested. “I am sure my brother will not approve of my influence on you, but--”

“
Your
brother?” At the mention of Arthur, Emilia's cheeks reddened. “Why would he be concerned about... about me?”

“Arthur frets about my reputation more than I've seen a man fret over anything. I am sure he has my best interests at heart, but it can be rather vexing. Being the consummate gentleman, he thinks he knows exactly how a lady should behave. If he sees you riding with me, I am sure he will fret about your reputation as well.”

“Your brother...” Emilia closed her eyes, and when she did, she recalled an image of his perfect face. “I have... something to confess.”

“What? About my brother?”

“Mr. Rochefort,” Emilia began, and her cheeks turned redder than ever, “he's... he's very handsome.”

“Goodness!” Willow had to laugh when she heard the young girl's confession. “If I had a ha'penny for every female who said that, I would be a very rich woman by now. I am sure he
is
handsome, but you better not tell him that!”

As if she would
ever
tell him! Emilia had to summon a great deal of courage to admit her feelings to Willow. Talking to the brother about his good looks was definitely out of the question. Nevertheless, Emilia asked, “Why not?”

“He might pretend to be humble, but Arthur Rochefort has a tremendous ego!” Willow said with a chuckle. “Trust me, his vanity does not need bolstering!”

Chapter Four

Both families gathered for supper, which consisted of roast duck and carrots. The latter must have been one of Willow's favorites, because she was inhaling the vegetables as if there was no tomorrow. Emilia, however, wasn't a great fan of carrots. She nibbled on them a bit, then shoved them into a pile, hoping no one would notice her aversion to her food.

To her great horror, Arthur Rochefort was sitting on her left, and he was looking more handsome than ever. His hair was a bit wavy, and an adorable curl was resting on his forehead. As beautiful as he was, it was almost painful to look at him, which she did not dare to do. She did not want him to catch her staring at him, nor did she want to draw attention to the untouched piles of food on her plate. Emilia had learned, over many years, that the only way to calm her nerves was to avoid eye contact.
With
everyone.

“Do you remember the last time we had carrots together?” Edward asked his fiance.

“No. Why on earth would I remember that?!” Willow exclaimed. “If you remember such a minor detail, you must have a very good memory indeed!”

“Edward remembers everything,” said his mother. “I forgot his tenth birthday, and he has never let me forget it!”

“It is quite bad, really, forgetting the day you gave birth to your s-s-son!” Edward said with a pout. He did not realize he had stuttered, but Willow did not miss it. She reached over and pinched her fiance's neck. “Ow!”

“Sorry. Was that too rough?” Willow simpered at him, a bit mischievously.

“Did you just pinch my son?!” Augusta exclaimed.

“Yes. Willow pinches me every time I stammer. Did you not notice my speech has improved?”

“Hmm... perhaps.” Augusta rubbed her chin, on which there was a hairy mole. “Yes, I suppose it has! Well done, Willow!”

“It has been my pleasure, ma'am,” Willow said with a smile. “Now, Edward... you were saying something about carrots?”

“Yes. The last time we ate carrots, we were dining with Philip, and he said you were eating like a pig!”

“Philip?!” Willow shrieked. “Why would you mention Philip's name, you dolt?!” She ran a hand down the length of her face in premature grief, because she knew her fiance's comment would pique the mother's curiosity.

As if on cue, the woman asked, “Philip? Who is Philip?”

“N-N-No one of importance, Mother,” said Edward, who got pinched again. “He is... well, he's...”

Prior to meeting Edward, Willow was Philip's mistress, and Philip happened to be one of Edward's friends. But it wasn't as if they could admit that to his mother!

“
Ahem
,” Arthur cleared his throat, hoping to redirect their attention. “This roast duck is amazing! Is it not seasoned to perfection?”

“Indeed,” Willow agreed, grateful to her brother for his timely interruption. “It's quite good.”

Though she did not participate in the conversation, Emilia's curiosity was piqued by the name
Philip
. Who was he? Whomever he was, his identity seemed to be a secret they wanted to conceal. Her mother turned her attention back to her food, which meant their attempt at changing the subject was a success. And Emilia, being the introverted girl that she was, did not dare to bring it up again.

Emilia decided to sneak another glance at Arthur and was surprised to find him staring back at her. When their eyes met, her shoulders jolted with alarm. Emilia thought she saw a scar in the middle of his forehead, right above his eyebrows. Once again, he put her in mind of a rogue.

“Not eating your vegetables?” Arthur teased her, pointing at her pile of untouched carrots.

“I--”

“They're good for your health... or so I've been told. You should probably eat them.”

“Are we really having this conversation?!” Emilia complained. “Not only is it inane, but it makes you sound fatherly.” Emilia's eyes widened as the words flew out of her mouth. She did not often partake in caustic retorts.

“Fatherly?” Arthur chuckled. “Willow would probably say the same thing. I am only two years older, but she claims I treat her like a child.”

Two years older.
His hint stuck out in her mind. She knew her brother's fiance was six and twenty, which would make Arthur eight and twenty. At least he wasn't
so
old. A ten-year age gap wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

And just like that, their conversation ended. Her response must have taken too long, because his eyes were back on his plate. Or perhaps he was offended?
You should not have said he was inane,
Emilia chided herself.
Or fatherly, for that matter!
Arthur Rochefort was the handsomest man she had ever seen, but she had made a muck of their first exchange.

“Umm...” Emilia tried to get his attention again, but once she had it, she had no idea what to say. “Um... never mind.”

“Is there something you wish to say?”

“No. Never mind,” Emilia repeated. When she turned her attention back to her supper, her cheeks were crimson.

“Were you going to tell me how dashing I look?” Arthur asked, grinning mischievously.

“What?! I... NO!”

“Ouch! Your answer was so adamant, I think my pride might be wounded!”

Emilia's cheeks were growing warmer and redder by the second. It would have been the perfect opportunity to flirt, if not for the fact that flirtation was completely beyond her capabilities. Now he was going to think he was inane, fatherly, and far from dashing! She just wanted the night to be over, so she could go to her room, bury her face in her pillow, and wallow in shame.

“You are... dashing,” she whispered to him.

“Am I?”

“You are,” Emilia insisted, ignoring the lump in her throat. “When I first met you, I thought you looked like a pirate.”

“A pirate?! Really?” Arthur threw back his head and chuckled. “What made you think that, I wonder?”

Emilia felt something pawing at her leg, so she peeled back the tablecloth. Sure enough, Eddie was under the table, gnawing on her slipper. Even though the puppy was behaving badly, she was grateful for the distraction.

“Is that Eddie under there?” Arthur asked. “Cheeky mutt! This is becoming a nightly ritual. He's trying to steal our food!”

“I think he's trying to eat my foot,” Emilia said. “What should we do?”

Arthur held a finger over his lips, silencing her. Then he pulled a piece of roast duck from his plate and covertly slipped it to Eddie. As the puppy scarfed the meat, Arthur whispered, “Willow hates it when I give him food from my plate.”

“Really? Why is that?”

“She thinks it encourages him,” Arthur said. “He'll just come back tomorrow expecting more treats. But look at him!” Arthur glanced down at the puppy and smiled. “Who could possibly resist that mangy, furry face?”

Who could possibly resist
your
fac
e? Emilia mused. If Arthur showed even the slightest bit of interest in her, she knew he would have her heart in a second. Fortunately, he had shown no interest whatsoever, so her heart remained intact.

For the moment.

* * *

Willow found her brother in the study, which happened to be her bookish brother's usual late-night haunt. As always, his nose was stuffed between a book's pages, and his eyes were lit with excitement. Nothing captured his interest quite like a good read.

“Arthur,” Willow addressed him as she strolled into the room.

“Willow,” he acknowledged her. “You're up late. Are you here to destroy my peace?”

Willow stood behind her brother and swatted his arm. “How unkind! I just wanted to talk!”

“So? Talk.” Arthur pointed at the chair across from him.

“If you're going to be rude, I'm going to leave!”

Before she could walk away, Arthur seized his sister's arm. “Wait. Don't go. You know I enjoy your company!” Arthur closed his book and folded his hands in front of him, preparing to give her his undivided attention. “What did you wish to discuss?”

Willow sunk into the chair, but her nose was still wrinkled by her brother's cold reception of her. “I wanted to talk about my fiance and his family. What do you think of them?”

“Well, you know Edward has already won my approval. Even if I had picked him myself, I could not have found a better man for you.”

“That's reassuring,” Willow said. “What about the mother and the sister? What do you think of them?” In the back of her mind, Willow wondered if she could play matchmaker. Emilia had already expressed an interest in her brother—perhaps the interest was not one-sided? Willow was determined to find out!

“Augusta seems a bit silly, but pleasant enough.”

“And Emilia?” Willow pressed. “How do you feel about her?”

“She seems very timid. Timid, but kind.”

His assessment was so curt, Willow was already starting to lose hope. “Is that all? I saw you whispering to each other during supper. And it looked... intimate.”

“
Intimate
? I don't know about that,” Arthur scoffed. “But do you know what? She said I looked like a pirate!”

“A pirate?
You
?!” Willow laughed at the notion. “But you're the most starchy, stuffy, unadventurous man I've ever met!”

“I know!” he agreed. “I thought it was an interesting comparison nevertheless, and Emilia seems like a good girl. I have not known her very long, but I already have a kind of... brotherly regard for her.”

“Oh? Really?” Willow looked down at her thumbs and fidgeted. “So you would never consider her as a romantic prospect?”

“Goodness no!” His sister's question made him laugh, which left her no room to doubt his answer. “She's much too young!”

“Too young?! I don't think so!”

“No,
really
. She is,” Arthur insisted. “She is practically a child.”

“She's eighteen! When I was her age, I was married... and to a man who is
much
older than you!”

“True. And you know I never approved of that. I wanted to see you happy.” Arthur leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Anyway, why all this talk about Emilia? Is there something you're not telling me?”

“No.” Willow's shoulders were hitched by the tiniest of shrugs. “I just thought she might be a good match for you, seeing as she's very sweet and... and she likes animals... and she likes to read.”

“Then she'll be a wonderful
sister
,” Arthur insisted, then he picked up his book and turned his attention back to reading.

Chapter Five

“Tell me again,” Willow beseeched him. “I just want to hear the words again!”

Edward placed a finger under her chin and lifted her gaze in his direction. As he stared into her eyes, he whispered, “I love you.”

“It sounds like you really mean it.”

“I
do
mean it,” he insisted. “I l-l-love you.”

Willow's hands flew to her hips. “Did you really just stutter your declaration of love!?”

“I did,” Edward said, looking a bit disappointed in himself.

“Well... you know what that means, don't you?!” Willow waited a few seconds for the threat to sink in, then she pinched his rear end. “
There
! An appropriate punishment!”

Edward looked down the hallway, making sure her brother was not around to witness Willow's brazen behavior. At present, they were standing in front of Willow's bedchamber, where they were having a difficult time parting ways. The moment she disappeared behind the door, it meant he would not see her until the morning, and he hated to spend another painful eight hours without her.

The farewell became even more impossible when Willow pulled him down for a kiss. She suckled his lips, kissed his chin, and then her mouth wandered down to his neck. “I love you,” she said. Edward was the only man to whom she uttered those words, and he was the first man to whom she meant them.

“I love you,” Edward repeated, careful not to stutter this time. “But if you keep kissing me, I'll never be able to leave.”

“Then I'll have to kiss you for the rest of the night, because I don't want you to leave!” Willow's tongue relocated his mouth. When she slipped it between his lips, he nearly passed out.

“You better stop there, or I won't be able to resist you,” Edward cautioned her.

“You don't have to resist me!” Willow opened the door and tried to pull him beyond the threshold, but he wouldn't budge. “You know I want you.”

“And I want you!” Edward adamantly assured her. “But you know I can't... not until we are married!”

Willow sighed. The fact that her fiance was saving himself for marriage was as charming as it was frustrating. “Very well. But we need to get married
soon
.”