"I
do not believe so, Em. I know so."
"Lady
Emily to you, Lord Stonebridge."
"Forgive
me for my informality, Lady Emily."
He bowed
and could almost hear her grind her teeth in rage as he swiftly retreated from
the room.
"What
do you mean she has taken her leave?"
Jared
glared at Agatha and threw his napkin onto the breakfast table, not able to
believe the news.
His aunt
looked up while she buttered her bread. "They took off for London early
this morning."
"When?"
"Early
this morning." Agatha gave a resigned sigh, reaching for the orange
marmalade. "Are you deaf, my boy? I just said that, did I not?"
"No,
Aunt. I meant when this morning?"
"When
the sun rose. Thought you knew."
Jared
shoved his plate forward, his knife clanking against his glass. "No, I did
not know."
He
glanced down at Nigel, who sat at his feet. The dog looked up, whined, and
padded out the door.
Agatha
waved her hand in the air and munched on her toast. "I suppose you should
know I gave my permission." Another bite.
"Permission
about what?"
"The
duchess asked Jane to join them."
"Jane?"
"Yes,
your ward." She shot him a disgusted look as if he had no idea who Jane
was.
"The
devil. I know who Jane is!" But how could Emily leave him like that?
"Well,
you do not have to be so disagreeable, my boy. I am only a few feet away, and I
am not the one who is deaf."
Jared
took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Why did they leave so
soon?"
Agatha
rose to retrieve some more food from the sideboard. "You know, the Season
and all."
Jared
bit back an oath as he stared at his aunt's back. "And?" He waited
patiently while she piled on a plate of eggs and sausage, returning to her
seat.
"The
Season, Jared. Balls. Soirees. Operas. Plays."
"What
has that to do with Lady Emily leaving this morning?"
"Lady
Emily?" Agatha looked surprised. "I thought we were speaking of
Jane."
Jared
stretched his neck, tugging at his cravat that seemed to have been tied too
tight this morning. "I was led to believe that I was to escort Jane during
the Season."
Agatha
chewed and glanced up. "You know, I do believe that our dear Jane has
taken a dislike to the duke. It happened after he threw her into the carriage yesterday."
She shrugged. "But it was not to be helped." She buttered another
bun. "And no need to fret about Lady Emily. Her brothers will see to her
this Season. So fortunately for you, you won't have to escort us at all."
"What?"
Had Emily's brothers found her a husband?
"Are
you deaf, Jared?"
Jared
glanced at his aunt in frustration. "Could you please explain about
Emily's brothers?"
Agatha
stopped eating, staring at him with an expression that he could only interpret
as worry. "Emily's brothers have decided to take the matter of her future
into their own hands."
"And?"
His heart beat a little faster.
"And
they are going to choose a husband for her before the Season is out. It seems
Lady Emily has a list of suitors a mile long vying for her hand."
His face
tensed. "Like who?"
"Like
Mr. James Fennington, for one."
Jared
shot from his seat and paced the room. "Fennington? The man is flat broke
and a drunk."
"He
may be flat broke, but . . ." She waved her hand in the air as if the rest
of the words were of no importance.
He spun
around. "What?"
His aunt
eyed him with concern. "They say he is more handsome than—"
He
leaned forward, his knuckles on the table. "Than who?"
She
gulped and glanced down at her plate, picking up her fork and shuffling the
sausage around the eggs. "Than you."
Jared
scowled. Fennington was a dog. "Who says so?"
Agatha
looked up and coughed. Her eyes were half closed as she spoke. "Why, Lady
Emily, for one."
Furious,
Jared closed his fingers into a fist. Emily could not be infatuated with that
man. Roderick would not allow it.
"And,"
Agatha went on, "the duchess told me that on one occasion her sons found
Mr. Fennington hiding in Emily's bedchambers ready to escape with her to Gretna
Green."
Jared
stilled. "That is the most preposterous thing I have ever heard."
Roderick had told him about Fennington sniffing after Emily, but the duke had
failed to mention Emily's bedchambers and Gretna Green in reference to the man.
What other
news had Roderick withheld from him? No matter, Jared reasoned, Emily belonged
to him. The sudden notion filled him with a joy he had not felt since his
daughter was born. Emily might not deserve him, but he would make it up to her.
"Jared?"
He glanced
at his aunt, hoping he had not cut all ties to whatever feelings Emily had for
him.
"Hope
you don't mind"—Agatha stood, grabbing her parasol—"I will be leaving
in a week as well, and since I am having my place refurbished, the duchess
invited me to stay with her . . ."
His aunt
went on talking, but Jared had barely heard anything she uttered past the words
Gretna Green.
"Jared,
are you ill?
"No,
I am not ill." I am quite insane, thank you.
"Then,
of course, you are going to accept the invitation and come along with me? But
you do realize that poor Nigel will have to stay here, I fear."
Jared
felt momentarily stunned. "What invitation?"
"To
stay with me at the Elbourne townhouse. You have already told me your townhouse
is not fit to live in for a few weeks, and I am using the same workers to redo
mine."
Not fit
for at least a few weeks. How fortunate. He would accept the offer to stay at
the duke's London home. No doubt the duchess and Agatha made plans without
Roderick's approval. But so be it. It would give him more time with Emily,
whether she liked it or not. "Of course, I will stay there."
Agatha
clapped her hands and smiled. "Wonderful! You may inspect the suitors who
come to call on Jane, and the duke will be there for Emily. His Grace is more
determined than ever to see his sister set in an agreeable marriage."
Jared’s
brows slammed together in annoyance. Agreeable marriage indeed.
Chapter
Eight
E
mily had been in London for five
days, and this morning she found herself among the crowd of women vying for
Madame Claire's attention. Female giggles wafted above the bolts of muslin and
silk in the dressmaker's shop. Emily stood with Jane beyond the window near the
front counter. Roderick had escorted them to the shop thirty minutes earlier,
quickly retreating to accompany his mother to the nearby milliner.
Clad in
a lilac gown with tiny blue flowers, Emily paged through the dress patterns more
determined than ever to remove Lord Stonebridge from her mind. But her thoughts
kept going back to his devastating kisses.
The
touch of his warm lips upon hers had left an indelible imprint on her mind,
planting hope into her soul, tormenting her heart, making her realize that
keeping a safe distance from the compelling man was the only hope of saving her
sanity.
He never
loved her.
"Emily,
I do believe that someone is staring at you through the window. A fair-haired
gentleman with a rather comely face. Wait. Wait. He is putting something to his
eye. I believe it a quizzing glass of some sort,"
Jane
chuckled. "A very huge one, in fact."
A huge
quizzing glass? Emily's throat constricted with dread as she slapped the
pattern books closed and threw a hand to the golden locket resting upon her
neck. "Good heavens, I cannot believe he has followed me here."
Smiling,
Jane casually turned and showed Emily a bolt of crimson red material. "Do
you think the handsome gentleman would prefer to see you in this color?"
She picked out a flimsy purple concoction and giggled. "Or this one?"
Emily
groaned, pulling Jane's arm and shuffling past a mother and daughter fussing
over a piece of French lace.
"Jane,"
she hissed, "this is no times for jests. That is Mr. James Fennington. It
seems he has decided it is me or nothing. I had once thought of choosing a fop
like him for a husband to ensure my freedom, but, good grief, I simply could
not do it."
Jane's
eyes flitted mischievously. "How utterly romantic."
The
corners of Emily's mouth began to twitch. "This is not amusing, Jane.
Whatever am I going to do? You do not know the half of it. Roderick will surely
shoot him if he sees the man here."
Jane
skirted her friend around a row of pink silks, their gowns rustling against the
wall. "I must tell you, Emily, that I have heard about Mr. James
Fennington, so you need not tell me a thing."
Emily
frowned as she met her friend's twinkling blue eyes. "Agatha?"
Jane
nodded. "But you may depend upon it, she has not told anyone but me."
Somehow,
Emily doubted that. Her eyes darted about nervously. Good gracious. The man was
a nuisance. "Oh, Jane, what are we to do? Roderick will be returning in a
matter of minutes. I do not fancy seeing Mr. Fennington killed before our very
eyes."
Jane
laughed, scooting them behind a tall stack of cream-colored muslin.
"Surely your brother will not shoot the poor man."
"You
do not know Roderick. He is the most disagreeable person in all of
England."
Jane
gave her friend a pat on the hand. "Stay here. I am going to peek and see
if Mr. Fennington has taken his leave."
Emily
waited, becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. She paced back and forth in
the small space allotted her. A wave of flowery perfume sailed her way as a
rather large-sized woman squeezed in between her and the muslin.
Within a
minute Jane's slippers came slapping around the corner. Emily looked up in
dread when Jane put her hand across her breast and let out a distressed sigh.
"Emily,
you will not believe it."
Emily
tensed. "Tell me he is not dead, or worse, entering the shop."
Jane bit
her lip, her eyes sparkling. "Very well, then, I won't tell you that the
gentleman in question is entering the shop, and I won't tell you that every
female here is watching him make his way toward you, and I won't tell you that,
indeed, the wretched fop is carrying the most horrendous quizzing glass I have
ever been subject to witness."
A low
murmur of female voices drifted through the shop.
Emily
grabbed her gloves from her reticule, wishing she could melt into the bolts of
fabric and disappear. "Very well, then. I need to leave by another way. Do
you know—"
"Ah,
Lady Emily." The deep baritone voice of Mr. Fennington made Emily stiffen.
"What a miracle I have found you." Without a second to lose, he
grabbed her naked hand, raising it to his mouth for a kiss. Cold, wet lips hit
her skin like a slab of ice. She jerked her fingers out of his grasp.
"Sir,
you go too far."
Jane
tried to hide her snicker.
Mr.
Fennington glanced at Jane, then tilted his head, giving Emily a saucy wink.
"Ah, forgive me." He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "I
forgot, we are being watched."
Emily
blinked against the smell of spirits on his breath.
"Mr.
Fennington, how on earth did you find me? My brother will be here any
minute." She hoped the man would take the hint to exit before Roderick
showed his face.
But the
man seemed to ignore her warning. "I declare, I find myself drifting on a
heavenly cloud whenever I catch sight of you, dear lady. But who may this
beautiful angel be?" he asked, bowing to Jane.
"Forgive
me, Mr. Fennington. May I present my friend, Miss Jane Greenwell."
Emily
could not help but send Jane a smile at the vexing predicament they found
themselves in. Emily rolled her eyes when Mr. Fennington took out his quizzing
glass, stared back at Jane, then proceeded to kiss her friend's hand in the
same fashion as he had hers. Jane towered over the man's bent head and stared
back at Emily, her delicate brows lifted in shocked amusement.
"Roderick,
dearest, would you mind terribly if I waited in the carriage while you attend
to your sister and Jane? My feet are vexing me to no end. I believe my gout may
be acting up again."
"Certainly,
Mother. I will return as soon as possible."
A row of
shiny black coaches lined the cobblestone streets as the servants waited for
their masters to return from their shopping. Roderick took the duchess's hand,
gently guiding her into the Elbourne carriage situated a half block from Madame
Claire's shop.
The
duchess leaned forward from her seat, patting her gloved hand across the back
of Egypt's white coat of fur. "Do let the girls take as long as they wish.
Emily is choosing a new wardrobe, and I want her to have as much time as she
needs. Jane is knowledgeable on the subject, and I trust the girl completely.
Do not worry about me. I will wait here and rest."
Roderick
groaned. "I daresay, it won't be anytime soon before I return with them,
madam. An entire wardrobe, you say? Perhaps we could have Madame Claire make a
visit to—"
"Your
Grace!" a lady's voice called out to the duchess, interrupting Roderick's
plea.
The
duchess peeked around the open door.
Roderick
glanced over his shoulder, a frown flitting across his face. "It appears
Miss Appleby and Stonebridge seem to be in Town. Imagine that."
"How
exciting," the duchess said as she slipped out of the carriage. "I
was not certain that they would accept my invitation to stay with us, you know.
I hear the earl can be such an obstinate sort of man—somewhat like you,
Roderick."
Roderick
gave a grunt. "What about your feet?"
"Of
course, I have heard that the man can be accommodating as well," she said
over her shoulder as she strode toward her friend, ignoring Roderick's
question.
Jared
and Roderick exchanged curt nods.
"Anne,"
Agatha cried, giving the duchess a hug. "It has been too long."
"Too
long?" Jared and the duke both said in unison, raising their eyebrows in
bewilderment. Evidently the ladies had not heard them, for they had moved
toward the milliner's shop to view the latest creations the duchess had
ordered.
"I
have just been informed that you accepted my mother's invitation to stay with
us," Roderick said to Jared, then lowered his voice. "I thought you
might have possible business in St. Helena soon."
Jared
scowled. "You have information to pass on, Your Grace?"
"Your
Grace? Has our friendship come to that? It seems I may have to accompany you,
if we have to go at all."
A shadow
of annoyance clouded Jared's face. It was obvious Roderick had not forgiven him
for letting Emily be trapped in the fire. Jared had not forgiven himself.
Jared
glanced down the street, waiting for a pair of gentlemen to pass. "Sources
say Boney's not happy."
"Why
should he be? The man was exiled."
"There
is some concern about an uprising."
Roderick
grimaced, stuffing his hands into his pockets and walking a bit past the
carriage. "Will this blasted fighting ever be over?"
Jared
wondered the same thing as he followed beside the duke. "For England, it's
over, but to the remnants of Napoleon's followers, it will take a long time to
end." Monsieur Devereaux came to Jared's mind, but he was not about to
bring the man's name up to Roderick. For it was the duke who had emphatically
pronounced that the man was dead.
Roderick's
boots halted. "Ah, here we are." He frowned, leaning into the shadows
of the dressmaker's shop.
Jared
lifted his head and quirked an amused brow. "Never thought Headquarters
would go so far as have you wear one of Madame Claire's latest creations,"
he said sarcastically. "But as you say, orders are orders."
Roderick
sneered. "My sister and your ward are the ones choosing the latest
creations, not me, and I refuse to wait for nightfall before they are
done."
Jared
pictured the duke waiting hours beneath the dressmaker's sign and laughed.
Roderick
seemed to read his thoughts and leaned against the red stone front, crossing
his arms against his chest. "I would advise you not to push your luck. I
have not forgiven you for leaving my sister with that maddening crowd."
Jared
stiffened. The man had every right to be angry.
"However,
from this moment on, we must work together." Roderick's eyebrow lifted.
"We are now entering into the den of the most dangerous places in all
England."
Jared
pursed his lips. "And pray tell, what den is that?"
"The
female den. The most dangerous of all God's lairs." Roderick pushed
himself off the wall and opened the shop door. "Not to mention mothers,
Jared. Diabolical, conniving, devious mothers looking for the richest
son-in-laws on earth."
Jared
laughed. "Indeed." He bowed to the duke. "Though I have a duty
to see my ward clothed in the highest of fashion, you must proceed before me,
Your Mighty Grace. You are far above me and should enter the den first. I
insist."
Jared
heard Roderick mumble a curse as the bell above the entrance jingled,
announcing their presence.
Jared
stopped short as he looked around, taking in the ghastly sight. "I will
never forgive you for this, Roderick."
Roderick
stood, dumbfounded. "Believe me, I had no idea. It was not like this when
I left."
The shop
was filled to capacity with every female in London fancying a new gown. Jared
grimaced when everyone turned their way. At least ten ladies and their mothers
immediately rushed toward the two most eligible bachelors in London.
Jared
spoke through stiff lips. "Should have worn the gown, Your Grace. We would
have been able to slink into this shop without such a commotion."
"This
is insufferable. Worse than Almack's."
Heady
scents of perfume assaulted their noses. Jared smiled to the gathering crowd of
tormenting females, inwardly vowing to kill Roderick before the day was out.
"Lord
Stonebridge, I had no idea you would be in London."
"Lord
Stonebridge, however do you stay so trim?"
"Lord
Stonebridge, would you do me the honor of attending my little soiree
tomorrow?"
Roderick
would pay dearly for this! Jared had quite enough when he became crushed
between a bolt of copper-colored muslin and a tray of tiny porcelain buttons
that clattered to the floor. He gave his friend a scowl, which immediately
turned into a smile when he saw the duke pushed into a table containing a stack
of very long embroidery needles. Served him right.
As the
minutes passed the mass of ladies competing for their attention was staggering.
Jared could barely breathe. The situation was hopeless.
"Ah,
but Lady Emily, you seem to forget I will never give up." Both gentlemen
snapped to attention at the sound of the only other male voice in the crowd.