Talk of the Ton (Free Fellows League 5)

“Mourning!” Bethany shrieked. “From all accounts, he took himself to Paris and enjoyed himself there so much that he had to fight at least two duels with outraged husbands. And the only reason he wasn’t challenged much more often was because he’s so skilled with the short sword. He told the Prince of Wales, in front of a large group, that he had drunk so much wine every night that he wouldn’t remember if he had had an affair with the Empress Josephine herself.”

Emma laughed. “A formidable amount of wine must have been called for to reach such a state.”

Bethany scowled at her. “A disgrace! That man is a disgrace! You are a disgrace to let him behave thus! He hasn’t even come here to apologize for those remarks of last week, has he? The churlishness of it! Obviously Kerr already sees you as a dismal crow on the side of the ballroom.”

“The truth is, Bethany, we hardly know each other. I doubt we’ve met more than three times. Well, four, if you count his brother’s funeral. Perhaps the man resents his father’s actions in kitting him up with an infant bride.”

Bethany snorted. “He shouldn’t be such a fool. It’s an excellent match, with nothing against it but his own lackluster character and your placid acceptance of his neglect.”

Emma felt her temper rising. “And just what do you propose that I should have done? I spent three years nursing Mama, as you well know. When she died, should I have rushed to London and tracked the man down like an errant child who has missed his supper?”

“Of course,” Bethany said. “Women must needs think of matrimony, because men have no inclination to it. What possible incentive has the man to bring himself to the altar? He doesn’t need your inheritance, he clearly feels no need for an heir, and he’s fully occupied by flirting with every woman with a French lisp and a glad eye!”

“Distasteful,” Emma said, pressing her lips together.

“All men are distasteful by nature,” Bethany said with a wave of her hand. “Women are only distasteful if they wither into old age without a husband at their side.”

“Marriage has made you unaccountably vulgar,” Emma observed.

Bethany raised her chin. “It’s my duty as your sister to call a spade a spade. I mean to speak to Father as well.”

Emma laughed shortly. “Good luck with that. He’s recently discovered that a flightless bird has been observed in the Galapagos Islands. I believe it’s a cassowary, or cas solary, or some such. He has hardly surfaced from his study in days, except for breakfast.”

Her little sister chewed her lip for a second. Then she said, “We can’t bicker over this, Emma. It’s too important.”

“I’m not worried about marriage. I have always had faith that Kerr would fulfill the terms of our engagement. I don’t know him well, but I would swear that he is an honorable man. In fact, I would guess that he is trying to drive me into terminating the arrangement as a sort of honorable escape.”

“Whether Kerr would eventually announce his intention to marry is irrelevant. His rudeness necessitates that you find a new spouse. You cannot marry a man who speaks of you in such terms and without even a hint of apology!”

Emma could see that her little sister was fairly pulsating with anxiety. “I shall not become an old maid,” she said cheerfully. “I’m not beyond my last prayers yet, you know.” She smiled over her teacup. “If you’re looking for an appealing display of modesty here, my dear, you won’t find it. I have avoided London from disinclination, never due to fear of the competition.”

“Well, I know that,” Bethany said, eyeing her sister. Emma didn’t look decayed, by any interpretation of the word. No crow ever had copper-colored hair swept into an elegant knot from which a few curls tumbled onto creamy shoulders. Even a little sister could see her eyes had an erotic tilt to them. “You’re too beautiful and funny to become an ape leader.”

“As I said, I’m not worried,” Emma said with a trace of impatience. “I’m disappointed that Kerr has made himself persona non grata, but if it’s a challenge to find a husband at my age, all the better! I’ve never been one to shrink from a contest, have I?”

“More the opposite,” Bethany said, thinking of how her elder sister loved to set herself a challenge, whether it was painting theatrical scenery (unheard of amongst gentle-women), or winning archery matches. “I just want you to marry well, come to London, and have some children,” she said. Her hand fluttered to her stomach.

Emma’s eyes narrowed. Was her little sister looking rather plumper than usual? Bethany plump, even though she would never even touch a dessert because plumpness was not in fashion?

“Bethany!” she cried, jumping up. “Darling, are you carrying a child?”

Her little sister blushed. “Well, perhaps . . .”

But even as a five-year-old in the nursery, Bethany had always displayed an alarming tenacity. It was only a moment or two later that she observed that the future arrival of her child was precisely the reason that her sister must marry immediately.

“I need you in London,” she said.

Emma looked at her narrowly. There was a hint of fear in her sister’s voice. “All right,” she said briskly. “I shall come to London and pick out a husband for myself. I doubt it will take a great deal of time. It’s a pity, because Kerr rather suited me. He left me alone, he’s handsome enough, and I like what I read of his speeches in Parliament. He seems intelligent.”

“You couldn’t,” Bethany said with a shudder. “After he said such an appalling thing about you!”

“You mean that I’m too old to bear a child?” Emma inquired.

“That wasn’t it. It was worse! I couldn’t even tell you.”

Emma fixed her with an elder sister’s glare. “Tell me.”

“He said that he wouldn’t take you as wife until you had his baby in your belly and his ring on your finger.”