Emmeline Part 21

'Let us go up,' said Mrs. Ashwood; 'I can hardly think it possible, my Lord, that Miss Mowbray is gone, unless your Lordship absolutely saw them.'

Yet Mrs. Ashwood remembered that Delamere had been there in the morning, and that Emmeline had dined early alone, and had remained by herself all the rest of the day, under pretence of sickness; and she began to believe that all this was done to give her time to elope with Delamere.

She went up stairs; and Lord Montreville, without knowing what he did, followed her. The stairs were carpetted; any one ascending was hardly heard; and Mrs. Ashwood suddenly throwing open the door of her chamber, Lord Montreville saw her, with her handkerchief held to her face, hanging over a packet of papers which lay on the table before her.

Emmeline did not immediately look up--an exclamation from Lord Montreville made her take her handkerchief from her eyes.

She arose; tried to conceal the sorrow visible in her countenance yet wet with tears, and a.s.suming as much as she could her native ease and sweetness, she advanced towards his Lordship, who still stood at the door, amazed, and asked him if he would pardon her for desiring him to sit down in a bed-chamber; if not, she would wait on him below. She then went back to the table; threw the papers into the casket that was on it; and placing a chair between that and the fire, again asked him if he would do her the honour to sit down.

Lord Montreville did so, but said nothing. He was ashamed of his precipitancy; yet as Emmeline did not know it, he would not mention it; and was yet too full of the idea to speak of any thing else.

Mrs. Ashwood had left them--Emmeline continued silent.

Lord Montreville, after a long pause, at length said, with a stern and displeased countenance, 'I understand, Miss Mowbray, that my son was here this morning.'

'Yes, my Lord.'

'Pray, do you know where he now is?'

'I do not, indeed. Is he not at your Lordship's house?'

'No; I am told by his servants that he is gone to Mr. Percival's--But _you_--'(continued he, laying a strong emphasis on the word) '_you_, Miss Mowbray, are I dare say better informed of his intentions than any one else.'

'Upon my word, my Lord,' answered Emmeline, astonished, 'I do _not_ know. He said nothing to me of an intention to go any where; on the contrary, he told me he should be here again to-morrow.'

'And is it possible you are ignorant of his having left London this morning, immediately after he returned from visiting you?'

'My Lord, I have never yet stooped to the meanness of a falsehood. Why should your Lordship now suppose me guilty of it? I repeat--and I hope you will do me the justice to believe me--upon my honour I do _not_ know whither Mr. Delamere is gone--nor do I know that he has left London.'

Lord Montreville could not but believe her. But while his fears were relieved as to the elopement, they were awakened anew by the uncertainty of what was become of his son, and what his motive could be for this sudden disappearance.

He thought however the present opportunity of speaking to Emmeline of his resolution was not to be neglected.

'However ignorant you may be, Miss Mowbray,' said he, 'of the reason of his having quitted his lodgings, you are not to learn that his motive for estranging himself from his family, and becoming a stranger to his father's house, originates in his inconsiderate attachment to you.

Contrary to the a.s.surances you gave me at Swansea, you have encouraged this attachment; and, as I understand from Sir Richard Crofts, you peremptorily and even rudely refuse the opportunity now offered you of establishing yourself in rank and affluence, which no other young woman would a moment hesitate to accept. Such a refusal cannot be owing to mere caprice; nor could it possibly happen had you not determined, in despite of every objection, and of bringing discord into my family, to listen to that infatuated and rash young man.'

'Your Lordship does not treat me with your usual candour. I have promised you, voluntarily promised you, not to marry Mr. Delamere without your Lordship's consent. To prevent his coming here was out of my power; but if I really aspired to the honour of which your Lordship thinks me ambitious, _what_ has prevented me from engaging at once with Mr. Delamere? who has, I own to you, pressed me repeatedly to elope. My Lord, while I am treated with kindness and confidence, I can rely upon my own resolution to deserve it; _but_ when your Lordship, on suspicion or misrepresentation, is induced to withdraw that kindness and confidence--why should _I_ make a point of honour, where _you_ no longer seem to expect it?'

The truth of this answer, as well as it's spirit, at once hurt and irritated Lord Montreville.

Determined to separate Emmeline from his son, he was mortified to be forced to acknowledge in his own breast that she merited all his affection, and angry that she should be in the right when he wished to have found something to blame in her conduct. Pride and self-love seemed to resent that a little weak girl should pretend to a sense of rect.i.tude, and a force of understanding greater than his own.

'Miss Mowbray,' said his Lordship sharply, 'I will be very explicit with you--either consent to marry Mr. Rochely, whose affection does you so much honour, or expect from me no farther kindness.'

'Your Lordship knows,' answered Emmeline, 'that I have no friend on whom I have the least claim but you. If you abandon me--but, my Lord, ought you to do it?----I am indeed most friendless!'

She could no longer command her tears--sobs obliged her to cease speaking.

Lord Montreville thought her resolution would give way; and trying to divest himself of all feeling, with an effort truly political, he determined to press his point.

'It is in your power,' resumed he, 'not only to place yourself above all fear of such desertion, but to engage my affection and that of my whole family. You will be in a situation of life which I should hardly refuse for one of the Miss Delameres. You will possess the most unbounded affluence, and a husband who adores you. A man unexceptionable in character; of a mature age; and whose immense fortune is every day encreasing. You will be considered by me, and by Lady Montreville, as a daughter of the house of Mowbray. The blemish of your birth will be wiped off and forgotten.'

Emmeline wept more than before.

And his Lordship continued, 'If you absurdly refuse an offer so infinitely above your expectations, I shall consider myself as having more than done my duty in putting it in your way; and that your folly and imprudence dissolve all obligation on my part. You must no longer call yourself Mowbray; and you must forget that you ever were allowed to be numbered among the relations of my family. Nor shall I think myself obliged in any manner to provide for a person, who in scorn of grat.i.tude, prudence and reputation, throws from her an opportunity of providing for herself.'

Emmeline regained some degree of resolution. She looked up, her eyes streaming with tears, and said, 'Well, my Lord! to the lowest indigence I must then submit; for to marry Mr. Rochely is not in my power.'

'We will suppose for a moment,' resumed Lord Montreville, 'that you could realize the visionary hopes you have presumed to indulge of uniting yourself to Mr. Delamere. Dear as he is to me and his mother, we are determined from that moment to renounce him--never shall the rebellious son who has dared to disobey us, be again admitted to our presence!--never will we acknowledge as his wife, a person forced upon us and introduced into our family in despite of our commands, and in violation of duty, honour, and affection. _You_ will be the occasion of his being loaded with the curses of both his parents, and of introducing misery and discord into his family. Can you yourself be happy under such circ.u.mstances? In point of fortune too you will find yourself deceived--while _we_ live, Mr. Delamere can have but a very slender income; and of every thing in our power we shall certainly deprive him, both while we live, and at our decease. Consider well what I have said; and make use of your reason. Begin by giving up to me the ridiculous witnesses of a ridiculous and boyish pa.s.sion, which must be no longer indulged; to keep a picture of Delamere is discreditable and indelicate--you will not refuse to relinquish it?'

He reached over the table, and took from among two or three loose papers, which yet lay before Emmeline, a little blue enamelled case, which he concluded contained a miniature of Delamere, of whom several had been drawn. Emmeline, absorbed in tears, did not oppose it. The spring of the case was defective. It opened in his hand; and presented to his view, not a portrait of his son, but of his brother, drawn when he was about twenty, and at a period when he was more than a brother--when he was the dearest friend Lord Montreville had on earth. A likeness so striking, which he had not seen for many years, had an immediate effect upon him.

His brother seemed to look at him mournfully. A melancholy cast about the eye-brows diminished the vivacity of the countenance, and the faded colour (for the picture had been painted seven and twenty years) gave it a look of languor and ill health; such perhaps as the original wore before his death, when a ruined const.i.tution threatened him for some months, tho' his life terminated by a malignant fever in a few hours.

The poor distrest Emmeline was the only memorial left of him; and Lord Montreville felt her tears a reproach for his cruelty in thus threatening to abandon to her fate, the unhappy daughter of this once loved brother.

Sir Richard Crofts and Lady Montreville were not by, to intercept these sentiments of returning humanity. He found the tears fill his eyes as he gazed on the picture.

Emmeline, insensible of every thing, saw it not; and not conscious that he had taken it, the purport of his last words she believed to relate to a sketch she had herself made of Delamere. She was therefore surprized, when Lord Montreville arising, took her hand, and in a voice that witnessed the emotion of his soul, said--'Come, my dear Emmeline, pardon me for thus distressing you, you shall _not_ be compelled to marry Mr.

Rochely if you have so great a dislike to him. You shall still have an adequate support; and I trust I shall have nothing to fear from your indiscretion in regard to Delamere.'

'Your Lordship,' answered Emmeline, without taking her handkerchief from her eyes, 'has never yet found me capable of falsehood: I will repeat, if you desire it, the promise I gave you--I will even take the most solemn oath you shall dictate, never to be the wife of Mr. Delamere, unless your Lordship and Lady Montreville consent.'

'I take your promise,' answered his Lordship, 'and shall rely firmly upon it. But Emmeline, you must go from hence for your own sake; your peace and reputation require it; Delamere must not frequent the house where you are: you must conceal from him the place of your abode.'

'My Lord, I will be ingenuous with you. To go from hence is what I intend, and with your Lordship's permission I will set out immediately for Mrs. Stafford's. But to conceal from Mr. Delamere where I am, is not in my power; for I have given him a solemn promise to see him if he desires it, wherever I shall be: and as I hope you depend on my honour, it must be equally sacred whether given to him or you. You will therefore not insist on my breaking this engagement, and I promise you again never to violate the other.'

With this compromise, Lord Montreville was obliged to be content. He entreated Emmeline to see Rochely again, and hear his offers. But she absolutely refused; a.s.suring Lord Montreville, that were his fortune infinitely greater, she would not marry him, tho' servitude should be the alternative.

His Lordship therefore forbore to press her farther. He desired, that if Delamere wrote to her, or saw her, she would let him know, which she readily agreed to; and he told her, that so long as she was single, and did nothing to disoblige him, he would pay her an hundred guineas a year in quarterly payments. He gave her a bank note of fifty pounds; and recommending it to her to go as soon as possible to Mrs. Stafford's, he kissed her cheek with an appearance of affection greater than he had yet shewn, and then went home to prepare for the reception of Lady Montreville, whose arrival he did not greatly wish for; dreading lest her violence and ill-temper should drive his son into some new extravagance. But as her will was not to be disputed, he submitted without remonstrance to the alteration of the plan he had proposed; which was, that his family should pa.s.s their Christmas in Norfolk, whither he intended to have returned.

The next day Delamere was again at Clapham, very early.

Emmeline, the additional agitation of whose mind had prevented her sleeping during the night, appeared more indisposed than she had done the day before.

Delamere, very much alarmed at her altered looks, anxiously enquired the cause? And without hesitation she told him simply all that had pa.s.sed; the promise she had given to his father, to which she intended strictly to adhere, and the arrangement she had agreed to on condition of being persecuted no more on the score of Mr. Rochely.

It is impossible to describe the grief and indignation of Delamere, at hearing this relation. He saw all the hopes frustrated which he had been so long indulging; he saw between him and all he loved, a barrier which time only could remove; he dared not hope that Emmeline would ever be induced to break an engagement which she considered as binding; he dared not flatter himself with the most distant prospect of procuring the consent of Lord and Lady Montreville, and therefore by their deaths only could he obtain her; which if he had been unnatural enough to wish, was yet in all probability very distant; as Lord Montreville was not more than seven and forty, and of an excellent const.i.tution; and Lady Montreville three years younger.

Pa.s.sion and resentment for some moments stifled every other sentiment in the heart of Delamere. But the impediments that thus arose to his wishes were very far from diminishing their violence.

The more impossible his union with Emmeline seemed to be, the more ardently he desired it. The difficulties that might have checked, or conquered an inferior degree of pa.s.sion, served only to strengthen his, and to render it insurmountable--

It was some moments before Emmeline could prevail upon him to listen to her. She then enquired why he had concealed himself from his father, and where he had been?

He answered, that he had avoided Lord Montreville, because, had he met him, he found himself incapable of commanding his temper and of forbearing to resent his sending Sir Richard Crofts to her, which he had promised her not to do. That therefore he had taken other lodgings in another part of the town, where he intended to remain.

Emmeline exhorted and implored him to return to Berkley-square. He positively refused. He refused also to tell her where he lodged. And complaining loudly of her cruelty and coldness, yet tenderly entreating her to take care of her health, he left her; having first procured permission to see her the next day, and every day till she set out for Woodfield.