Chapter 1

“I do not need to be chaperoned, Aunt. I shall be with Sophia and her brother is asleep. He is most likely dying. He won’t wake up. He has been like this for three weeks. She shall be my chaperone. She is a widow so she is quite respectable.”

Lady Emily Beresford, the sister of the Earl of Whitsnow was determined. She would not be remaining in her aunt’s townhouse in London one moment longer than was necessary. Her friend needed her. Her brother had insisted that once again she go to town in search of a husband, but honestly, it was pointless. No man wanted her. She knew what they said about her. The whispers behind her back. Oh, she was pretty enough, she supposed, and she had a good dowry. She’d had a few men showing interest in her first few seasons because of her large dowry but not now. Lady Clumsy—that’s the moniker they had given her because she trod on gentlemen’s toes when she danced. She also invariably spilt her drink on her gown. She almost never accepted drinks at balls now. How debasing having such a nickname.

Now she was three and twenty years old and she was almost officially on the shelf.

“You shall never find a husband at this rate, Emily.”

“I doubt I shall find a husband anyway, Aunt. No one is vying for my hand in marriage. No one is interested.”

“What about Cedric Onslow.”

“The illegitimate son of the Duke of Hartsmere?”

“You can’t afford to be fussy at your age, Emily.”

“I can afford to be fussier than Mr Onslow. He’s a dandy. He wears inexpressibles. You can see everything.”

“How would you know. You should not be looking at men below the waist.”

“It is hard not to, Aunt. It’s difficult to ignore.”

“Hmm, well, perhaps even I would draw the line at Mr Onslow, on reflection. Perhaps we should contact the Duke of Hartsmere and see if his legitimate son, the Earl of Cindermaine, wants a wife.”

“He is never seen in town because of his ill health. I doubt he would be interested.”

“No harm in asking.”

“Perhaps not.” Emily shook her head. “However, I am going to Herefordshire to see Lady Rutherford, and you cannot stop me. I shall take my maid and obviously, there will be a coachman and a stable boy. We shall be fine.”

“I forbid it, Emily.”

“I am three and twenty, Aunt. You cannot forbid it. Besides, I already wrote to tell her I shall visit. If you do not let me go, I shall take the mail coach.”

Of course, Emily would never consider taking the mail coach and Aunt Gertrude would never countenance such a thing but Aunt Gertrude believed Emily to be ‘a bit of a hoyden’, so Emily knew her Aunt would half expect her to do it.

“I shall summon Robert.”

“Robert is in Cumbria, Aunt. You know he cannot get here in time to stop me. I leave early tomorrow morning. I do hope you will wish me well.”

“I shall do no such thing. Have you seen the rain? You shall drown in the mud no doubt.”

Emily blanched. It was a concern. She had heard so much of the terrible weather conditions and the poor state of the roads. She may very well end up in trouble, but Sophia seemed so lost in the pages of her letter and Emily knew she had to get to her friend and comfort her.

She left the room but as she went she turned to her aunt. “I must go. I would want someone with me if Robert was dying.”

Emily walked down to breakfast the next morning, determined not to argue with her aunt. There was no point. She would simply smile and wish her a cheerful goodbye and thank her for her concern. There was nothing else for it.

When she walked into the breakfast room, Aunt Gertrude was sitting eating toast and raspberry jam. What caught Emily’s attention, however, was what Aunt Gertrude was wearing. She wore her green carriage dress.

“Good morning, Aunt.”

“There is not much good about this morning, Emily. It is still raining.”

Emily glanced through the French doors and grimaced. “It has been raining every day since March I think.”

“We had a few nice days in May I believe.”

“Oh yes. I do recall. You appear to have put on your carriage dress this morning, Aunt.”

“That is what one usually wears when one is going on a long carriage ride, is it not, Emily?”

“It is. Are you going somewhere nice?”

“I have no idea. Is the Beattie estate nice?”

“You are coming with me?” Emily nearly dropped the teapot she had just picked up.

“Don’t be ridiculous dear. I cannot have you wandering about the countryside on your own. Robert would never forgive me.”

“But you’ll miss the entertainments of the Season.”

Aunt Gertrude rolled her eyes.

“Emily, my dear, the Season is completely washed out this year. No one is feeling frivolous and happy. No one cares about the gossip and the jolly japes. No one is getting up to any jolly japes for that matter. Everyone just wants to sit at home by the fireside and read or write letters. It really is rather miserable. I would rather be with you, and, as you said yesterday, you would wish someone would be there for you if Robert was ill and perhaps dying.”

Emily nodded. “Yes, I would. I appreciate the offer but please do not feel you ought. I can go on my own.”

“It would be a pleasure. You are a true friend to this young lady. What is her name?”

“Sophia. She is Lady Rutherford. Her brother is Viscount Beattie. She is the widow of the late Lord Rutherford who died just five months ago.”

“Ah, I see. Perhaps he is not at death's door. We shall see when we get there.”

Emily hurried to the sideboard to fill a plate of food for breakfast. Aunt Gertrude was not a bad old stick really. In fact, she had a heart of gold. She was just a little strict and had rather old-fashioned views about how young ladies should behave. But Emily felt a warm glow and, she had to admit to herself, a little less apprehensive about this trip now that she would have company. She had been a little scared to venture out on her own, albeit with a maid and a coachman to look after her.

With Aunt Gertrude snoring away beside her all the way to Herefordshire, Emily knew she wouldn’t feel lonely until she met her friend again.