her throat was another romantic, but so it was.
She called for tea to refresh the travelers, showed them into Lord Hansard’s elegant saloon, and demanded roguishly, “And which of you is the gentleman who is in love with Lady Capehart, eh?”
James smiled softly. “It isI, Auntie. Have I not chosen well?”
“I knew it! So romantic. But it cannot be a runaway match, or Nick would not be here.”
“Oh, we might manage to escape him,” James said mischievously.
“Don’t put ideas in his head!” Nick exclaimed. He glanced at Emma to see the laughter glinting in her eyes.
The travelers were tired from the trip, so it was decided the ladies would rest until dinnertime, and the party would attend Drury Lane that evening. Lady Gertrude, who had already seen the performance twice, declined. Nick had a box for the Season, but with the Season just over, he had to send out for tickets. As the box held six, he wrote to invite his eligible bachelor friend, Lord Sanichton, to join them and bring his sister along.
In her room Emma found it impossible to rest. She examined the fine furnishings of her bedchamber—the bed hangings of rich blue and gold brocade, the Persian carpet, the carved mahogany dresser—and was glad she wasn’t staying at some impersonal and vastly expensive hotel. She went to the window and sighed in pleasure at the busy street below. This was the life! And this evening she would be attending the fabled Drury Lane Theater to see a production of Romeo and Juliet.
Mr. Milmont had never allowed his family to attend the theater, which he called Satan’s parlor. Thus Emma had never seen Romeo and Juliet. She read a good deal, but found Shakespeare’s archaic language too daunting to tackle alone. Even without reading it, however, she knew the play to be the quintessential romance and looked forward to seeing it with the keenest pleasure.
She had brought with her her most fashionable gowns. For the theater she selected an Empire style gown of sea green. Its silken underskirt was covered with a roller skirt of gauze, edged in Belgian lace that billowed about her green kid slippers like foam. At her creamy throat, a diamond and emerald necklace sparkled. She piled her silken curls on top of her head, fastening them with jeweled combs. She felt like a princess when she went belowstairs for dinner.
“Venus, rising from the waves!” Lord James exclaimed, when he greeted her at the bottom of the stairs, where he was lurking in anticipation of her descent. “I feared you would not have any gowns stylish enough for London, but I might have known!”
Emma accepted this ambiguous compliment with good grace. Nick, chewing back a smile, said, “I, on the other hand, had no doubt about the gown. Emma is famous for her fashions, James.”
James laughed. “Can one find fame among the barns and ricks of Sussex? She was ogled by the provincials, you mean. Now she will be famous. I shall be proud to be seen in public with you, Emma,” he said, taking her fingers and squeezing them. “In fact, I feel I ought to propose to you this instant, before some more worthy suitor steals you away from me.”
“You look very nice, too, Lord James,” she said. She noticed that James’s coiffure had been rearranged à la Titus, and his modest cravat was worn in a more complicated style. His plain dark jacket had given way to a bottle green one that lent him a touch of sophistication.
“You noticed,” he said, placing a kiss on her palm. “If I am not to be a clergyman, there is no need to dress the part. I am so glad. I feel those dreary duds did me less than justice, so I sent to Papa’s house for a few things. Come, let us dine.”
They dined en famille, a pleasant but not ostentatious meal. The silver and china, the food and wine were all of the best, without soaring to Olympian heights of refinement.
Soon after dinner Lord Sanichton and Lady Margaret came to accompany them to the theater. Emma noticed that Lord
She called for tea to refresh the travelers, showed them into Lord Hansard’s elegant saloon, and demanded roguishly, “And which of you is the gentleman who is in love with Lady Capehart, eh?”
James smiled softly. “It isI, Auntie. Have I not chosen well?”
“I knew it! So romantic. But it cannot be a runaway match, or Nick would not be here.”
“Oh, we might manage to escape him,” James said mischievously.
“Don’t put ideas in his head!” Nick exclaimed. He glanced at Emma to see the laughter glinting in her eyes.
The travelers were tired from the trip, so it was decided the ladies would rest until dinnertime, and the party would attend Drury Lane that evening. Lady Gertrude, who had already seen the performance twice, declined. Nick had a box for the Season, but with the Season just over, he had to send out for tickets. As the box held six, he wrote to invite his eligible bachelor friend, Lord Sanichton, to join them and bring his sister along.
In her room Emma found it impossible to rest. She examined the fine furnishings of her bedchamber—the bed hangings of rich blue and gold brocade, the Persian carpet, the carved mahogany dresser—and was glad she wasn’t staying at some impersonal and vastly expensive hotel. She went to the window and sighed in pleasure at the busy street below. This was the life! And this evening she would be attending the fabled Drury Lane Theater to see a production of Romeo and Juliet.
Mr. Milmont had never allowed his family to attend the theater, which he called Satan’s parlor. Thus Emma had never seen Romeo and Juliet. She read a good deal, but found Shakespeare’s archaic language too daunting to tackle alone. Even without reading it, however, she knew the play to be the quintessential romance and looked forward to seeing it with the keenest pleasure.
She had brought with her her most fashionable gowns. For the theater she selected an Empire style gown of sea green. Its silken underskirt was covered with a roller skirt of gauze, edged in Belgian lace that billowed about her green kid slippers like foam. At her creamy throat, a diamond and emerald necklace sparkled. She piled her silken curls on top of her head, fastening them with jeweled combs. She felt like a princess when she went belowstairs for dinner.
“Venus, rising from the waves!” Lord James exclaimed, when he greeted her at the bottom of the stairs, where he was lurking in anticipation of her descent. “I feared you would not have any gowns stylish enough for London, but I might have known!”
Emma accepted this ambiguous compliment with good grace. Nick, chewing back a smile, said, “I, on the other hand, had no doubt about the gown. Emma is famous for her fashions, James.”
James laughed. “Can one find fame among the barns and ricks of Sussex? She was ogled by the provincials, you mean. Now she will be famous. I shall be proud to be seen in public with you, Emma,” he said, taking her fingers and squeezing them. “In fact, I feel I ought to propose to you this instant, before some more worthy suitor steals you away from me.”
“You look very nice, too, Lord James,” she said. She noticed that James’s coiffure had been rearranged à la Titus, and his modest cravat was worn in a more complicated style. His plain dark jacket had given way to a bottle green one that lent him a touch of sophistication.
“You noticed,” he said, placing a kiss on her palm. “If I am not to be a clergyman, there is no need to dress the part. I am so glad. I feel those dreary duds did me less than justice, so I sent to Papa’s house for a few things. Come, let us dine.”
They dined en famille, a pleasant but not ostentatious meal. The silver and china, the food and wine were all of the best, without soaring to Olympian heights of refinement.
Soon after dinner Lord Sanichton and Lady Margaret came to accompany them to the theater. Emma noticed that Lord
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