The Earl Of Scandal (Regency Romance) Read online

  The footman called her name in the crowd, but she couldn’t see him. Emily hurried forward. She would go back to spend the rest of the day with the duke when she was done, but wanted to see all that the shops had to offer before it. Things were nothing like they were back home. It was her first adventure in this new city, and it had to be completed. She went through, glancing in the windows and venturing into some stores that caught her eye, but always aware of the man trying to find her.

  Until she came upon the last shop at the end. It was a linen draper, and she didn’t care about anything else after seeing that. There would be time to browse. There had to be. Emily ran inside, sure they would have fabrics there that were not available where she was from.

  The draper shop was empty. Emily anticipated a crowd and the long wait for service that was to be expected in her local shop, but she wasn’t even sure if there was an attendant on duty. No one stood behind any of the counters. But there were pretty fabrics on display, hanging all around her, so she walked through the place, and found that it was bigger than it looked. Nothing caught her eye as being any more special than what she was used to though. Disappointed, she turned to leave.

  “May I help you with something?”

  Emily jumped, putting a hand to her chest. There was an old man behind her, who jumped as she did.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to give you a start. And doubly so since your start gave me one too. A man of my years can only afford so many.”

  “I did not see you there.”

  “I am quite short.”

  “Not because of that.” She smiled. “I thought the shop was empty.”

  “It is never empty, just like graveyards. So now it is as empty as it will ever be, except for the two of us. We count, do we not?”

  “Of course… But I mean, I thought it was…”

  He pushed round glasses higher on his face.

  “Never mind,” said Emily. “I should be going.”

  “But you came in here for something. It would be a shame to leave without it.”

  “Yes, I wanted fabric to make a ball gown out of. But nothing caught my eye.”

  “There is always more to look at here. Is it a special ball gown?”

  “My very first. I would like to think they will all be special though. Every ball, and every gown I wear to one.”

  “But nothing tops your very first!”

  The shopkeeper went behind the counter and ducked underneath it for a while. Emily thought he had vanished again until his voice came from somewhere down below.

  “What do you want this gown to do for you?”

  “Make me look pretty.”

  “You do not need a gown for that. It would be a waste of fine fabric.”

  Emily blushed. She glanced behind the wooden counter, but there was no one there.

  “Where did you go?”

  “To have tea while you think of a good answer.” His voice came from the other side of the shop. “Now what do you really want your gown to accomplish?”

  Emily thought for a moment. “I want it to wrap itself around me and bring me to my true love.”

  The small man’s head popped up from behind one of the counters. “Now, that is a great answer! Unfortunately, it was two great answers. Wrapping itself around you is fun, as if there is someone available to give you a hug all the time. But we can get rid of that. Hugs are cheap these days. I think a girl of your age needs to find true love. And I have just the fabric for it.”

  The shopkeeper zipped around the counter, then across the store. He opened drawers and threw their contents over his shoulder, through the air, fine cuts of fabric flying all around. “I know it’s here somewhere,” he said.

  Emily took a step back and watched the cloth fly, dyed in every color, like magic raining down. She spun around in the middle of it all as if she was in a peculiar dream.

  “I found it!” the shopkeeper cried out. He held up some folded fabric above his head. “This is very special.”

  Emily went to the counter. “That looks amazing.”

  The shopkeeper put the fabric down in front of her. “Go ahead and touch it,” he said.

  She ran her hand over the red cloth and was surprised at how smooth and cool it was.

  “You expected to feel something different,” said the man. “I can tell.”

  “I thought there would be lumps or a roughness to it. How did you get this cloth to shine in so many places?”

  “That glittering effect you notice on the fabric is made with a technique that has been passed through my family for generations.”

  “I have never seen anything like it.”

  “And you never shall from anyone else.”

  There were hundreds of points on the cloth that sparkled as she moved it underneath the light.

  “You have a gown sewn out of that,” said the shopkeeper. “You wear it and I guarantee you will find your true love. That is what the fabric is especially for. And you are holding the last of it that is in the shop. Maybe the last that will ever be made. It is just too difficult to do.”

  “I cannot even imagine the work. What is it made of? What are all these small points that shine? They look like they are part of the cloth.”

  “There is only one logical explanation for that. They are part of the cloth. The secret that my family perfected was how to sew starlight into our fabrics. It is a good trick too. But to sew it in, you need to have some available, so every piece is made with great care in the middle of the night. It is very hard on the eyes.”

  “Oh, come now.”

  “That is the whole truth, if you wish to be particular. And I would imagine that, with a truth such as that, there is no way a lady of obvious taste and a need for true love will pass it up today.”

  He smiled wide at her.

  ***

  Emily left the draper shop with the last of the fabric clutched against her chest. She had gotten to see a lot of the Burlington Arcade, and was very pleased with the trip as she strolled down the few steps at the exit, and out onto the sidewalk.

  “London is an amazing place to live,” she whispered. “There is so much to explore and experience. I wish to be here permanently some day.”

  She examined the red fabric again, admiring its unique beauty. Emily was happy to chance upon something she could have a ball gown made of. The cloth really looked as if captured stars were shining in it somewhere. It was mesmerizing how they twinkled, like jewels under changing light. She stepped off the curb, crossing Piccadilly. Her next task would be to find the duke again.

  A man shouted at her. He drove a phaeton, and its horses were barreling down on her like beasts from hell. Emily turned and screamed as they galloped just a few feet away, spit flying and wild eyed. She threw her arms up, as if that would protect her, and froze where she stood. The prized fabric went flying.

  She was hit hard from the side. It wasn’t by a horse. A man ran across the street and slammed into her. He picked her up and kept running. The momentum carried them back up onto the sidewalk until they both crashed against the stone arch entrance of the Burlington Arcade. Emily was pinned against the building, in shock. The man stood in front of her. He was tall and leaned against the stone over her head, waiting to catch his breath. Emily watched his strong chest heave in and out inches from her gaze. He smelled of a wonderful mix of lavender and citrus. She wanted him to stay that close to her for much longer, but that would be improper.

  “Stop trying to kill yourself, you scatter wit!” yelled the driver of the phaeton as he rode it away.

  The man who was so close to Emily shoved himself off the structure and pivoted, as if he would say something, but the carriage was already too far down the road. He took another deep breath before turning back to her.

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  She felt like talking to him was a dream. “Brookes.”

  He smiled. He was a well-built man with gray eyes and copper hair. “Miss Brookes, i
t is. How are you?”

  “Fine. I am still shaking, but fine. I fear that your hat got the worst of it.”

  He seemed confused.

  “It fell off your head while you were rescuing me, sir.”

  He looked back into the street. Carriage wheels were rolling over it by then.

  “That is a horrid way to treat a fine hat,” he winced.

  The man ran back out into traffic, making carriages stop until he retrieved his hat and her cloth as well.

  “It is difficult to say who got burned the worst,” he continued. “My hat is thoroughly crushed and misshapen, but the cloth you carried may never be the same again.”

  Emily frowned as she looked at the sparkling fabric in his hand. It took her so long to find, but had died so readily. It was dirty and had a large rip in it. The stars no longer shined.

  “I hope it wasn’t anything special to you,” he said.

  “It will have to be thrown out now.”

  “Perhaps it can be repaired.”

  “Not likely. It was supposed to be the fabric for my first ball gown. Now it looks more like ribbons. How about your hat?”

  “A good haberdasher will be able to…” He turned it around, examining the damage. “Laugh at me quite heartily.”

  “I suppose we are both out of luck,” she laughed.

  “At least we are partners in misfortune.” He did as well.

  “You are my first one.”

  “Splendid. Every person alive needs a partner in misfortune. You can have dinner with anyone, but how many people can you nearly die with, get your things properly shredded with, then laugh?”

  Emily liked his gentle nature. First, he risked his life to save her, then he made her smile about it. She wished the Duke of Humbershire was like him. Her life would be wonderful then.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “Not letting me get trampled.”

  “You? I was trying to save the fabric all along.”

  “I must say, you failed miserably then.”

  “Maybe next time,” he said.

  “I think I will stay away from horses for quite a while. Perhaps crosswalks as well.”

  “That will make it awfully hard to get around. You will change your mind, eventually.”

  “Yes, practicality may win out in the end. All I can do is try.”

  “I should introduce myself then, just in case you need further assistance one day. I am Joshua Lockmond. I handle falls, spills, and slips quite well. But my specialty is runaway horses.”

  Emily smiled. “Thank you again, Mr. Lockmond. Your kindness delights my heart. I would have been stomped to death had you not intervened.”

  “It was my pleasure, Miss Brookes. Some carriage drivers can be a nuisance, especially for someone who is not used to life in London.”

  “And what makes you so sure I am not a native?”

  “Just a hunch. Consider it a compliment. Natives of the city have a harder way about them.”

  “I am from Cambridge. It is my first day here.”

  “And already an attempt on your life! You can understand the cause of that harder way then.”

  “But you are not that way. You have been delightful.”

  Before he could even part his lips to speak, a loud voice called for Emily, echoing straight out of the Burlington Arcade. The duke’s footman had caught up with her.

  “It seems that you are missed,” said Joshua.

  “I have been trying not to be.”

  “I will leave you to your next escape then, Miss Brookes.” He attempted to tip his hat, then realized he still held the remnants of it and bowed instead. “It was nice to meet you. Till then.”

  She desperately took a step toward him. “Till when?”

  “Your next mistake.”

  He strolled away then disappeared into the dense crowd. Joshua was so lost in thought he didn’t realize that he still carried the fabric she had until much later.

  Emily waited for the footman to come out of the arcade. He rushed to her.

  “Oh, Miss Brookes, where have you been? I have been looking all over for you.” Cuthbert was breathing heavily, exhausted from the search.

  “I am sorry if I have caused you trouble. I was just excited to explore by myself.”

  “There is no apology necessary. But I would ask if you could please let me know where you are heading? I am only here to assist you. I will also be held accountable should anything happen to you. I could lose my position.”

  “We cannot have that. I had no idea His Grace took these things so seriously.”

  “He is a serious man.”

  “I will be more cautious next time then.”

  Emily walked back through the Burlington Arcade with Cuthbert right behind her. They would find the duke together.

  Chapter 5

  It had been a week since her first encounter with Joshua, but Emily could not get him out of her mind. Whenever she was alone, reading books, writing poems, or painting in the garden, he was there, his face haunting her memory. Try as she might, her will to forget him, to do the right thing, had proven too weak for her to resist those thoughts.

  Since their trip to London, her relationship with the duke had not developed, for he was a man of little optimism. Emily had asked him to pay another visit to the city with her. There was so much more to see. But he refused, ordering Cuthbert to take her instead. The extravagant and crowded lifestyle of the sleepless city had quickly grown on her. Every part of it was foreign to her upbringing and everything she’d known. That was the true allure.

  Her parents were seeing her off for another day away.

  “I shall return before dark, just as before,” said Emily.

  Her mother looked worried. “Take care, my dear. Look after yourself.”

  Mr. Brookes watched his daughter leave without a word. She got into the town coach again. The reins cracked on the horses. He rubbed the back of his neck as if it was sore.

  “Are you all right?” said his wife.

  “I’m afraid our dearest daughter is becoming accustomed to the lifestyle of the very wealthy with all these trips to London.”

  “I should hope so. That is why we chose the duke for her.”

  “But she is changing rapidly. She no longer paints and writes poems as much as she did before.”

  “Excessive thinking increases a man’s age, Mr. Brookes. Do not perplex yourself. She knows what is right and wrong. We have raised her to become the woman she is now, and I am certain she would not abandon the values we have planted in her heart.”

  “I hope so.”

  ***

  The rain had been constant for the last few days. The road to London was bumpier than usual. Alone in the town coach, reading a book was Emily’s only means of entertainment, although it made her rather dizzy as they shook from side to side. Upon her request, the coachman was taking her to one of the city’s circulating libraries. She had heard so much about them. They seemed like wonderful places where anything you wanted to read would be there if only you asked for it. That would be a delightful way to feed a reading addiction. After an exhausting three hours, the coach stopped.

  “We’re here, Miss Brookes.” Cuthbert swung the door open and helped her come down.

  “I should not be too long.”

  “But don’t you want me to come with you in case you need help?” He looked worried.

  “I cannot run too far away in a library.”

  Emily’s dress caressed the ground as she made her way inside alone. She came to look around the place before joining. Filled with a variety of books, the library felt as if it was a publishing warehouse. Large bookcases lined the back wall, with wooden ladders propped against them that were the only way to get near the top shelves. There was a circular desk that took up the middle of the room, where people would have to order what they were in the mood to read. What was she in the mood for? Emily hadn’t even thought about that yet. She just
wanted the ability to pick any book that caught her fancy. It seemed luxurious.

  She kept strolling through and found a very tranquil reading room. There were long tables there. Chairs were scattered across the room. The gentle silence was the perfect ambiance for Emily to read in. Especially since bad roads or rain had no effect on anything. She wanted to join. Since she had been venturing out to London a lot lately, it was a fine idea. Emily also thought of the perfect book to devour right then. She enjoyed those written by Jane Austen, whose books dealt with the real issues of life in a romantic manner. That was what she craved, realism and romance. Imperfect fiances just like her own. A hint as to how people survived each other.

  Emily went back into the other room and approached the desk. Her eyes glimpsed someone she never thought she would see again. She had prayed to see him, then felt guilty for even doing that. But there he was, standing at the circular desk, only several feet away. Her heart beat faster as if she’d run into the Prince Regent, himself.

  “Mr. Lockmond?” she said.

  He turned around, looking just as surprised to run into her. “Miss Brookes, it’s you again.”

  “Yes, it is. I am afraid that I will have to try very hard not to make you rescue me this time.”

  “It was nothing. It is my duty to serve my compatriots.”

  He intrigued her with that. She wondered what story or torment he was hiding.

  “Why would that be a duty?” she said. “So many turn away.”

  “I was a captain in the British army and have only recently returned from the war against Napoleon.”

  “That explains the scars then.”

  “I have no scars. I did my best not to let the enemy get that close.”

  “But that is why you have scars, because of how soldiers have to stop other soldiers. The intense stare you get when you do it for long enough. That is the mark the war gave you.”

  “Maybe I have always been intense, Miss Brookes. Or perhaps I always am, with you.”