Page 5 of Until I’m Safe in Your Arms

“Uncle Jack.” Alex wormed his way through the packed room until he stood in front of his uncle and aunt in front of the fireplace. “Good afternoon, uncle. Good afternoon, Aunt Lucinda. Thank you so much for inviting me to your house party.” He bowed formally. “It’s good to see you both again.”

“Never stand on ceremony with me, my boy.” Uncle Jack grabbed Alex up in a hug then pounded him on the back. At almost fifty, his uncle was still a bear of a man: tall, barrel-chested, and strong of arm, though now silver-haired. Nothing at all like his brother, Alex’s father, had been, though there had been a family likeness in their faces. “Now that’s a real howdy-do.” His uncle had picked up several American speech peculiarities while he’d been across the pond that Alex found bewildering. “Glad to have you here again, nephew.”

“I am happy to be here, uncle.” He turned to his aunt’s eager, smiling face. “And you are looking particularly fetching today, aunt. Having guests must agree with you.”

“I suppose it does, Alex, although I’ve done nothing much but give instructions to the servants.” She blushed and cast her gaze to the floor. “Jack wouldn’t let me lift a finger to help with anything.”

“That I would not, my dear.” His uncle gazed fondly at his wife, then stepped close to Alex and whispered, “No one knows yet, but Lucinda is in a delicate condition.”

Alex jerked backward, his face heating a trifle. Of course, he understood the meaning of that phrase, but he’d rarely known any genteel woman in such a condition. He supposed he should be as matter of fact about it as he was with the camp followers of his unit who never sought to hide their pregnancies. But, somehow, with his aunt’s situation, he couldn’t help but be embarrassed. And surprised she was still out and about in public.

“This party is my last appearance, Alex.” Almost as though she’d read his mind, Lucinda’s soft voice brought him out of his musings. “I hope we haven’t shocked you.”

“Not at all, aunt. My best wishes for you both.” Alex managed to smile, although just knowing her condition made him feel scandalous. Perhaps he should change the subject before things got even more uncomfortable. “I came to find you to ask your help with a small matter.”

“My help?” Lucinda’s delicate brows shot up. “What can I help you with?”

“Well, either you or my uncle.” Hesitant now that the time had come, Alex cleared his throat a couple of times and took a deep breath. “There’s a young lady here to whom I should like to be introduced.”

A sweet smile spread across his aunt’s face while his uncle let out a laugh that turned all heads in the room toward them. “I told you, my dear.” His uncle puffed out his chest. “I told you he’d be out to win that wager while he was here.”

Inwardly, Alex groaned. Not that he’d thought his grandfather’s wager would be kept a secret—he was too worldly to ever believe that. He had hoped, however, that his own wager to be the first one wed could be kept sub rosa. Certainly no young lady hearing of it would give him a second thought. “So you’ve heard about that, uncle?”

“I had luncheon with your grandfather yesterday.”

That would explain it. “I do hope no one else knows of it.” Alex sent a silent plea to God. “I think it might hinder my hopes of success.”

Chuckling, Uncle Jack nodded. “Never fear, m’ boy. Mum’s the word for me and Lucinda. Right, m’dear?”

“Of course, my dear.” Her light brown eyes were merry. “I promise we will do whatever we can to assist you in your suit, Alex.” She took his arm. “So you must tell us who this young lady is to whom you wish to be introduced.”

*

Miss Emma Washer had to admit she was glad she’d accepted Lady Caxton’s invitation to her house party, even though Emma knew only a handful of the people here. Of course, Lady Tilney, her social sponsor, had insisted she attend, so she was happy it had turned into a pleasant experience.

“Despite your recent circumstances, my dear, you really must begin to move in society if you are to meet eligible gentlemen. Your first duty, you understand, is to marry and, if I am to do right by you, marry well.” Lady Tilney nodded sharply as she’d written to Lady Caxton, accepting the invitation and giving Emma no opportunity to protest. “My daughter Augusta and I will accompany you, and between the both of us, perhaps you’ll enjoy yourself and find a husband.”

A distant cousin of Emma’s late aunt, Lady Tilney had taken on Emma in June when the current Season had been all but over. Unused to English society, Emma had hoped she’d not have to go out in public at all, but Lady Tilney had managed to coax her out twice. During those two wretched entertainments, Emma had stubbornly maintained her status as a wallflower until Lady Tilney had thrown up her hands in defeat.

Emma had been grateful when the Season had ended and her sponsor had ceased her incessant attempts to put her about in London. The woman truly meant well, even if she didn’t understand Emma’s reluctance. Her official time of mourning for her aunt was long past, yet due to the horrific circumstances of her aunt’s death, Emma didn’t seem able to put her grief aside. After some coaxing from Lady Tilney’s elder daughter Augusta, Emma agreed to make up for her poor performance at Lady Ripley’s ball and Almack’s by agreeing to attend the house party in Hampshire.

Now that she was here, Emma’s spirits actually seemed to take a turn upward. Oh, she’d only been here not quite a day, but the weather was glorious, there was a garden she’d discovered last evening and strolled in twice, and the people around her had been extraordinarily kind. Augusta had just fetched her for another walk before luncheon and Emma had enthusiastically joined her. Lively chatter surrounding them made such a difference in her mood. Perhaps this weekend would be enjoyable after all. She glanced over the railing at the throng of new guests entering the manor house. Who knew, but she might find one of the few acquaintances she’d made in London also attending the house party.

“The gown Lady Caxton was wearing at breakfast was so very pretty, don’t you think, Emma?” Augusta Hardy loved nothing as much as the most up-to-date fashion. “That shade of pale green is a becoming color for her, although most blondes can’t manage it. The cut was pleasing as well. Not too much decolletage yet alluring all the same. Oh, bother.”

The quick glance took in the group of people below before Augusta’s exclamation brought Emma’s attention back to her friend. “What—”

No, wait. What had she just seen? Emma jerked her head back to the mass of moving guests down below. Yes, yes it was. Eyes widening, she stared down at the gentleman dressed in the brilliant scarlet of the British Regimental uniform. An indescribable wave of happiness rolled over her, giving her a feeling of satisfaction she’d not had in many months. How wonderful to find a British officer here of all places. She turned back to Augusta, who had not stopped talking all the while.

“Now I shall have to go change again.”

“I beg your pardon?” Emma glanced back over the balustrade, but the officer continued to stand there staring upward.

“Look here.” Augusta presented her arm to Emma. The frothy lace on her right sleeve had come loose and dangled most unbecomingly onto her arm.

“Oh, dear. Yes, you must go back and have Marks attend to it.” Another quick look, but the scarlet-clad officer continued to stare up…good lord, was he looking at her?

“Exactly. I’m sorry we won’t have time for our walk before luncheon, my dear.” Her friend had turned to go back upstairs.