It was the night of the rout and Emma had dressed with great care.
Wearing a delicately embroidered, silver gauze gown with a high waist and short, puffed, leg-of-mutton sleeves trimmed with a fine laced Vandyke edging, she looked extremely becoming. She was happy with what she had chosen to wear for the occasion. Her mother’s sparkling diamond necklace and the matching earrings dazzled.
But the reflection in the mirror told her something was missing. Her vivacity for life was absent. The radiant glow that had shone in her eyes a week ago had vanished, and in its place was now a fretful frown of uncertainty.
Worried she wouldn’t see Aaron again or experience the taste of his lips as he ravaged hers, she invented the rout party on the spur of the moment in the hope of keeping him near. When he had been about to leave her at her door, the invitation to join them had been spontaneously given, and all week she had been busy contacting friends and organizing the event.
Emma still had no idea if Aaron intended to call upon them that night, and she was a wretched mess of uncertainty. Eager to meet him again, she was afraid that when she did, the memory of their perfect lovemaking would be shattered. The dream would dissolve and the reality of everyday life would return with a vengeance.
Her concern was that perhaps she had been too forward. Had Aaron seen through her manipulative ploy and callously dismissed her out of hand as a consequence? Ought she to have been more subtle in her pursuit of him? A thousand unanswered questions tumbled through her thoughts, and she was restless with longing.
It had been difficult to banish Aaron from her mind. She kept remembering the way he had kissed her. The way he had touched her body. And the way he had taken her to unimaginable heights of happiness as they made love.
Much to her surprise, she had succeeded in coercing Aaron into making love to her. Flushed with success, she now wondered if she could take it a step further and persuade him to marry her.
Emma wasn’t unintelligent, and in the week that had passed, she had instructed her father’s secretary, Mr. Morgan, to make discreet enquiries concerning Mr. Aaron Trent’s background. Wondering why Aaron had not married before, she was also intrigued enough to approach Lady Hester Bridgeworth with a mind to learning more.
Lady Hester, a patroness of Camden Orphanage and other charitable societies, moved in Bath’s elite circles. She had become a friend of the Brentry family. And as Mr. Brentry was a generous financial contributor to the orphanage, Lady Hester had been more than willing to share what little knowledge she had of Aaron’s circumstances.
Emma had been proven right. Aaron was indeed an honorable gentleman. He came from a good family, and before the loss of his estate, he was an excellent landlord and master to his tenants.
Aaron was considered by most people to be a respectable matrimonial catch, and before leaving England to fight in France, he had been vigorously pursued by young debutants in search of a spouse. There had also once been a hint of an engagement to a Miss Charlotte Hunter, or so Lady Hester had whispered, but nothing had come of it. Miss Hunter, it seemed, had married a wealthy plantation owner and was now believed to be living in America with her husband, Mr. Preston.
Except for his current lack of fortune, there was nothing about Aaron that her father could object to. It was unfortunate he had lost Windhurst Hall, but Emma thought it to be only a temporary problem and one that could be easily rectified…with money. Her money.
All she had to do was win Aaron’s trust and persuade him to tie the knot and their problems would be solved. Aaron would regain Windhurst Hall, she would be happy with her choice of husband, and her father would be delighted when grandchildren arrived.
Emma’s concern in marrying Aaron was that she was a merchant’s daughter. Merchants’ daughters and landed gentry never mixed…at least, not in her world. She also wondered if, in the long run, she would be doing Aaron a great disservice by marrying him.
Would his connection with her family shame him? Would he consent to marry beneath his rank and into trade for the sake of Windhurst Hall? And would her dowry be enough to lure him to the altar?
The sound of loud music drifted from the saloon, bringing her out of her thoughts.
A small orchestra comprising of a pianist, a cellist, and a flutist had been hired for the evening, and as she stood next to her father, welcoming their guests to their home, she was aware that one of Bach’s minuets was being played and her feet were tapping. She longed to leave the hallway and join the others in dance but knew she had still to greet several guests.
“You ought to join Lord Stratton,” her father suggested. “I’m sure his lordship is waiting to pounce on you and claim a dance. I can see him standing in the doorway beneath the arch to the saloon. He hasn’t taken his eyes from you.”
“I detest it when someone stares at me.”
“Put him out of his misery, my dear. Go dance with him.”
“Papa, I have no desire to prance about the room with Lord Stratton. He will only persist in his advances, and those I must refuse.”
“I’m at a loss. If you have no intention of accepting his offer of marriage, why did you send him an invitation to attend this rout? He is a most desirable partner, my dear. See how Miss Catherine Birch ogles him. I’m sure she would be more than pleased to―”
“She may have him. I simply do not care to dance with his lordship, and that is my final word on the subject.” Emma tilted her chin defiantly on high.
Seldom had she fought with her father, but on this occasion, she was adamant. No matter how keen her father was for her to dance with Lord Stratton, she was determined to refuse. The only reason Lord Stratton had been invited to the rout was to make Aaron jealous. But as of yet, Aaron had not appeared, and by the lateness of the hour, it looked like he wasn’t going to attend.
Then, just when Emma had given up hope of ever seeing Aaron again, she saw him framed in the doorway to the house, waiting to enter. The unexpected sight of him set her pulse racing. She almost dropped her fan.
When they parted, he had said he wouldn’t attend. But he was here. He had come to her. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation.
Having relinquished his hat and gloves to a footman, Aaron approached. He looked dashingly handsome in full evening wear. He was wearing pale satin knee breeches and a dark velvet tailcoat that was a deep sapphire blue in color. His white shirt had a high, pointed collar and was tightly secured at the neck by a cascading cravat. To complete the outfit, he carried a cane and wore buckled shoes.
Aaron wasn’t quite the dandy, but tonight, he was certainly unmistakably a gentleman of fashion.
Their gazes locked, and her heart fluttered. She was about to move toward him but stopped. The stern curve of his mouth warned her to be cautious. All was not well.
Aaron bowed. She returned the salute with a curtsy, smiled, and held out her hand in greeting.
“I had dared to hope…but was beginning to think you would not call upon us tonight, Mr. Trent.”
Aaron bowed again and placed a kiss upon her hand. “Miss Brentry, how could I possibly refuse your kind invitation? As I recall, you practically ordered me to call upon you.”
Emma was startled. There was a sharp bitterness to his words. Almost as if he resented having to attend the rout. If that were the case, why had he come?
“I would not presume to command you to do anything, sir. I thought you to be your own master and took orders from no one. Perhaps I was mistaken in that thought.”
Her father stepped forward and vigorously shook Aaron’s hand. He then clapped his guest jovially on the back in a welcoming manner. “Mr. Trent, it’s good to see you once again. My Emma has explained in more detail how gallant you were toward her when a wheel on the carriage was damaged. I’m in your debt for coming to her rescue.”
Aaron shook his head. “It was nothing. Anyone in my position would have done the same, including…Lord Stratton.”
Lord Stratton was clearly visible. He was loitering in the hall and had not yet moved into the saloon.
“But nobody did anything, except you,” her father said.
“Oh, but Papa, I think if Lord Stratton had been on the Bath Road, he would have been more than willing to perform the same services Mr. Trent did. Do you not think so, Mr. Trent?”
Aaron looked shocked. “You would have allowed him to assist you…as I did?”
“I doubt it. But we shall never know for certain, shall we?” she said. “It was the first time I stayed at an inn alone. The first time I dined with a gentleman alone. And the first time I…”
Emma caught the look Aaron flashed in her direction. His brows were drawn together, and he was clearly not pleased with her manner.
“If you will both excuse me,” Emma said. “I believe Lord Stratton wishes to speak with me. He has been most patient and is waiting for a chance to put his name on my dance card. I have promised him at least three dances, so I must not disappoint.”
“No, you certainly must not,” Aaron said.
Emma went to move away but stopped. She offered Aaron the dance card she was holding. “Would you care to add your name, Mr. Trent?”
“Why would I need to write my name upon your dance card?”
His cane hit brutally against the side of his leg, and she was instantly reminded of his limp.
The heat of embarrassment flared in her cheeks, and she fluttered her fan, attempting to cool them. Unwittingly, she’d forgotten Aaron’s leg injury. She should have remembered his disability. But the problem was, she didn’t think of Aaron as having an infirmity. She thought of him as being a strong, whole, complete person.
“I’m sorry. Of course, you will not be dancing. I did not mean to offend.”
“No offense taken.” It was a polite but insincere retort. “I suggest you go to Lord Stratton. It’s clear he’s waiting for you to join him, and you must certainly not disappoint his lordship.”
Emma had not realized until now that Aaron could have such an overbearing manner. Who did he think he was? How dare he tell her what to do and who to see? The nerve of the man!
She tilted her chin defiantly. “An excellent notion. I shall take your advice and do as you suggest. I will also allow you to escort me.”
“Really?” Aaron’s voice was laden with sarcasm.
Her father intervened. “It’s not necessary for you to pander to Emma’s fickle demands, sir. One moment she refuses to dance with Lord Stratton, and the next thing she is telling me is that his lordship has a claim to no less than three dances. But you yourself have only just arrived. I beseech you to first make yourself comfortable and―”
“It will be no trouble to escort your daughter to his lordship. I’m more than happy to be of service to her…again.”
Without ceremony, Aaron took hold of her arm in a firm grip. With dogged determination, he steered her across the hall toward Lord Stratton, and upon reaching his lordship, Emma watched as the two men exchanged bows.
“What the devil are you doing in Bath, Trent? I thought you to be laid up in some confounded infirmary recovering from the beating Bonaparte gave you. It’s good to see you’re from your sickbed, but I hadn’t expected it.”
“My ability to survive appears to have disappointed most of my acquaintances, including my cousin. And you, Stratton? It’s not like you to be away from London. What brings you to Bath?”
Having released Emma’s arm, Aaron brushed a non-existent fleck of dust from his sleeve.
“The answer’s quite simple. The delightful, young lady beside you is my reason for being in Bath. I’ve made Miss Brentry an offer which she is considering.”
“An offer? An offer of what?” Aaron asked. “I had not realized Miss Brentry was interested in the business of manufacturing chinaware, for I presume it is a business offer we are speaking of?”
Aaron was tense. Emma could hear it in his voice, and she saw it in the way he held his body. Tonight he was on edge, and she wondered why.
“You misunderstand.” Lord Stratton gave a gloating smile. “I was referring to an offer of marriage. You see, when we merge, I mean when we marry, our family businesses will become as one. Miss Brentry’s father is keen for the union.”
The sound of a musical ensemble could be heard coming from the saloon. Violin strings were tweaked and the pianoforte played as preparations for the next dance were made.
Emma glanced hurriedly down at her dance card. “Lord Stratton, I happen to have this dance free. As the quadrille is about to begin, shall we join the others?”
Eager to comply, Lord Stratton offered his arm for Emma to take.
Emma saw a flash of irritation appear in Aaron’s eyes. And then, with only the briefest of nods, she was whisked away toward the candlelit saloon, leaving Aaron looking annoyed and frustrated.