The Earl Of Scandal (Regency Romance) Page 5

  “Charmingly so?”

  “Not yet.”

  ***

  Emily walked beside him as if they were alone. Time passed apace as soon as they got lost in conversation. Helena watched them attentively. The spark between the two was fierce. Passion kindled in their eyes. Their racing hearts were almost audible. It wasn’t right.

  “Are you enjoying the fair?” said Emily.

  Ashencrest grinned. “Probably more than you.”

  “Not possible. The first time is always the best.”

  “It cannot beat the first time after a war.”

  “Was life very hard for you there?”

  “Every day. No soldier can explain it to those who have not been. But you appreciate the joys of a normal life much more when you get back.”

  “You appreciate things when you have lived a horribly secluded existence as well.”

  “Were you sheltered more than others?” Ashencrest stared at her with a gaze as sweet as honey.

  “My parents wished me to grow up with a high moral standard. And I thank them for it. Now, I can see why…”

  Helena cleared her throat loudly.

  “Is something wrong?” said Emily.

  “No. I felt a cough coming on.”

  “Are you quite through?”

  “That depends. Are you really going to compare our parents to Napoleon? If so, I may have pneumonia.”

  “Mother does enjoy strategic alliances and matrimonial warfare.”

  Helena grabbed her arm roughly. She could no longer tame the urge to confront her sister. “Pardon me, Lord Ashencrest, but I need to have a word with her. It is something of great urgency.”

  She pulled Emily aside, dragging her as far away as she could. She would have kept going right back to the coach and ridden off had Emily not yanked her arm away.

  “Let go, Helena!”

  “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean? It was only a joke. Although mother can be quite conniving, and you know it.”

  “Is that where you get it from?”

  “I am not that way,” said Emily.

  “You are now engaged to the Duke of Humbershire, and yet, you are still entertaining a man other than your fiance. It is not right, and you were raised better than to do it!”

  “Lord Ashencrest and I are just friends.”

  Helena stood with arms akimbo, glaring at her sister. “Don’t lie to me. I can see in your eyes how much you like him. Do not deny it.”

  Emily looked down. “I would get rid of him if I could… But I cannot get him out of my mind. Lord Ashencrest seems very genuine and agreeable. I cannot help but fall for him.”

  “The feeling is mutual, I’m sure.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “It is obvious from the way he looks at you. It is the same way my husband looks at me.”

  Emily smiled at that.

  “But you are playing a dangerous game,” continued Helena. “You will have our entire family embroiled in scandal. It is not just yourself. We will all be in a perilous position. You must stop this absurdity at once.”

  “But everything is under control. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “This is your idea of control? I thought I would spend a lovely day with my sister at the Bartholomew Fair, only to find I have been lured all the way to London to play chaperon to your indiscretions!”

  “I did not think it would be…”

  “You didn’t think at all. How many people are here? How many opportunities to be recognized? We are at an event in the city.”

  Emily was silent.

  “We are leaving this instant,” said Helena. “Say goodbye to him if you must, but make it a final goodbye.”

  They walked back to him. Emily felt a sudden doom from deep within. Emotion threatened her, but she restrained the tears from falling for the sake of good propriety.

  “Is everything all right?” said Ashencrest.

  “We are leaving now. Please take care of yourself.” Emily turned away from him.

  Ashencrest took hold of her hand. The sudden touch surprised her, then sent shivers through her body.

  “Before you leave,” he said. “I want you to know that there is no other way I would rather have spent the day than with you.”

  He gently brought her hand up and bowed his head, kissing the back of it.

  “I do not think I can see you again.” She made no attempt to pull away.

  “Do not say that.”

  “I have to be faithful to the man I will marry.”

  “Do not ever say that.”

  He closed his eyes, kissing the back of her hand again.

  “People will see,” hissed Helena.

  Lord Ashencrest kissed Emily’s hand again, higher up this time. Helena took her sister’s arm and pulled her away. They hurried toward the coach. Emily looked back at him, standing alone in the crowd, watching her being dragged out of his life.

  Chapter 7

  Emily stayed in her room as much as possible for the next few days. She would lie in bed a lot. Sometimes she looked out the window. In a particularly energetic spurt, she tried to sketch the view of the garden but couldn’t get the lines quite right. The flowers, trees, and even the birds had lost their shine. All the poetry she wrote was bad, and spoke of lost loves. Emily knew she could never create beauty again. How could anyone do that when there was no more beauty left inside them, when it had been snuffed out? That was how quickly it happened, for someone’s spark to be gone and smolder into nothing. Lord Ashencrest’s face at the fair haunted her. That final glimpse. She knew it had been snuffed out on that day for him too. At the exact moment they parted. But what was she to do, fight with her entire family?

  Her mother called from downstairs. Emily dragged herself out of bed. Even though the day was almost gone, she was still wearing her white nightgown and a matching bonnet. She cracked the door to answer.

  “Come down here,” said her mother.

  “I am still not feeling well.”

  “You will feel better if you leave your room.”

  Emily sighed as she slipped into her velvet slippers and wrapped a dressing gown around herself. She ambled down the stairs. Her energy was gone.

  Mrs. Brookes waited at the bottom. “Lately, I have found myself wondering if you still live here.”

  “I told you I have not been feeling well.”

  “And I think I have figured out why that is.”

  Emily grew pale. She rubbed her hands against her dressing gown, trying to get the clammy feeling out of them.

  “Go open the front door,” said her mother.

  “The air is quite sufficient as it is.”

  “Just do as I say.”

  Emily went to the door and opened it. There was a wooden chest on the ground outside. It had a golden rose carved into the top and a golden hook to latch it. Her name was written on the envelope laid at its side. Her face lit up as she snatched the prize into her arms.

  “I knew that would make you feel better!” Her mother was elated. “I had hoped that you would come down and find it on your own, but sometimes we have to create our luck. Besides, I did not want your father tripping on it when he comes home. But finding it is the best way, don’t you think?”

  “Whatever way I get this is just fine.” Emily had her glow again.

  “Everything will be wonderful. Whatever trouble you are having with the Duke of Humbershire will pass. I am sure this gift will make up for many things.”

  “What makes you think it is from the duke?”

  “Who else would it be from?”

  “I must go open it.” Emily ran back up the stairs and into her room.

  “But do you not want to see what is inside here?” Mrs. Brookes called after her.

  The bedroom door slammed shut.

  Emily put the chest on her bed. She trembled with excitement while ripping the envelope open and pulling out the note inside. It was short and there was no signat
ure on it.

  Something you ought to have.

  For a terrible moment, she thought it might really be from the Duke of Humbershire. Emily was almost afraid to open the thing. Her heart beat faster as she pulled at the golden hook until it slid free then pushed the lid back on its hinges. And there was her red fabric, sewn into a gown. She pulled it out of the chest to have a good look. It had been cleaned so that there was no sign that a wheel or hoof had ever trampled it. Emily had no idea how there was even enough fabric left without holes to create anything, but the dress was beautiful. It sparkled as it had before. She felt like she did as well.

  ***

  Months had gone by before there was an occasion for Emily to wear her new gown. It was an agonizing time because she never even had the opportunity to thank the kind man who sent it to her doorstep. It wasn’t right to contact Lord Ashencrest again. Her sister had made that abundantly clear. It wasn’t right to encourage him, even if that was the only thing her heart desired. What did love have to do with marriage, anyway?

  She got out of the town coach. The Duke of Humbershire walked by her side. The sun had just set. They were in London again, attending a ball. Emily felt like a newly crowned queen as they entered the assembly room. Her gown shimmered underneath the candlelight of the chandeliers, glowing brightly against the black lace at the neckline and wrists. The cut fit her curves well, snug at the top and full below the waist. Her hair was swept up. A choker necklace gave the elegant mien she desired. Emily felt so beautiful.

  “Did you have to wear that dress?” said the duke.

  “It is my favorite one. What do you find wrong with it?”

  “It demands too much attention. You will find that most of the ladies at these events enjoy wearing gentler colors.”

  Perhaps they are escorted by a gentler man. She had to bite her tongue.

  “Yellow would be nice,” he continued. “Or a very light blue. And certainly nothing that glitters like that.”

  “I will try to make a better choice next time, Your Grace.”

  The dance floor was crowded. They were about to begin a new set. Musicians prepared themselves. The last thing Emily wanted to do was to spend half an hour out there with the Duke of Humbershire.

  “Care to dance, Miss Brookes?”

  She gritted her teeth. He was her fiance. “If you like.” Her parents would approve.

  “Would I like it?”

  “That is for you to decide, Your Grace.”

  “What I mean is, can you dance a minuet without embarrassing yourself, and therefore, me?”

  “Of course I can!” she said.

  “But this is your first ball.”

  “That does not mean I have not been properly taught, sir. I am able to accompany you in any dance you like.”

  “I would doubt that, but perhaps you will do for a minuet. It may be simple enough.”

  Emily was incensed.

  They stood, facing each other with a distance between them on the dance floor, amid long lines of people. The chatter in the room lowered as string musicians struck the first, dulcet note. Emily stood still as someone walked behind her, then weaved through the line, grasping their partner’s hand and stepping to the music. She waited for her turn. It was difficult to look at the duke, but she felt him in front of her, waiting for her to do something wrong. Her toes tingled as she took the initial step, weaving through the line herself, then holding his hand and walking together.

  “Is this agreeable enough to you?” she said.

  “It has only begun. We have gotten this far just by walking.”

  “It is all walking, unless you would like to jump.”

  “There is no jumping involved in any dance I have ever attended.”

  “Perhaps we will stroll past a lake later on and your skills will be apparent there.” Emily wanted to put a hand over her mouth the moment she let it slip.

  “Is that your idea of humor, Miss Brookes?”

  The dancers were all separate and stepping around each other in winding patterns. She lost sight of the duke for a moment and was happier for it.

  “I asked you a question,” he said as they came together again.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “I hope this is not a sample of the marriage you would like to have.”

  “Not at all, Your Grace.”

  “I will not stand for it.”

  Emily was silent.

  Everyone separated again. She felt alone as she went through the motions of the dance. Then someone else was there beside her.

  “Perhaps he should just sit down.”

  It was a familiar voice. Lord Ashencrest smiled. The man was dashing in his black tailcoat. Emily nearly burst into tears, seeing him so suddenly. She wanted to throw her arms around him, pull him close, and be there forever. They both stopped in the center of the room. It felt like her feet couldn’t reach the ground anymore.

  “What are you doing here?” she said.

  “Attending a ball. I have been to many in the last few months, wondering if I would ever see that dress. You look magnificent.”

  People danced gracefully around them. The music played on. None of it mattered. They were together again.

  “Leave with me.” He whispered so low it was unheard.

  Emily shook her head sadly. A shadow had come over her.

  “What is going on?” said the duke.

  Ashencrest glared at him a moment before remembering himself again, relaxing his posture, and pretending good cheer. “I thought I had been introduced to the lady. It seems I was mistaken.”

  “You most certainly were if you imagine it was the proper thing to do to interrupt the dance.” Humbershire raised his voice.

  “I would never stop a dance such as this, Your Grace.” Ashencrest no longer smiled. “It is far too intriguing for that.”

  “Yet, here you are.”

  With flattened lips and an unwavering glare, Humbershire took a step closer to him. Ashencrest did not move back.

  “And your passion for intrigue does not concern me,” the duke continued. “In fact, I find it extremely distasteful. Almost as much as your presence here.”

  “I will go where I like.”

  “Then go to the devil and be quick enough about it.”

  “Please, Your Grace.” Emily interrupted them, perplexed at the escalating tension. “It was a simple mistake.”

  “Be silent!”

  She flinched. It was the first time he had ever yelled at her.

  “You should not speak to a lady like that,” said Ashencrest.

  “Who are you to tell me anything? I am the Duke of Humbershire and you are beneath my touch.”

  Ashencrest’s body tensed. His hand closed into a fist. “Let us see if you are beneath mine.”

  The musicians played on, but all dancing had stopped. Everyone stared at them, mouths agape, waiting for something dangerous to happen. They were causing a commotion. The master of ceremonies had noticed.

  “Stop that this instant!” he demanded.

  “It was just a friendly dispute,” said Ashencrest.

  “Friendly or unfriendly, all of you, take it outside.”

  “I have never been so insulted,” said the duke. “Do you mean to imply that you are asking me to leave along with this dandiprat?”

  Ashencrest glared.

  “Along with him, behind him, beside him, hopped up on his shoulders for all that I care. It does not matter,” said the master of ceremonies. “You two interrupted the dance with your rude and ridiculous behavior. Now you have to go. May I suggest a trip to the nearest rookery, where such displays are welcome.”

  The Duke of Humbershire sighed.

  ***

  Emily sat in the town coach as it galloped along. The duke was across from her. They had not said a word to each other in the last hour. She tried not to look at him, even though it was obvious that he wanted to speak by the way that he glanced at her sometimes then shook his head and t
urned away. The man was fuming. If an argument started, it would just make a long ride even worse.

  Then the duke stopped looking away. He stared at her and it was a frightening thing. She could only see an outline of him in the dark coach, and the fixated whites of his eyes.

  “Thrown out.” He emphasized the words. “I have never been thrown out of an event in my life. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

  Emily wanted to keep quiet, to just listen to him speak, but her discontent had already gotten the better of her that night. The damage had been done.

  “That was your own fault,” she said, coldly.

  “My fault? That man was begging for a fight and I gave him one.”

  “He thought he knew me and was saying hello. I do not know why you had to make an issue out of it.”

  “I have a right to be jealous of my fiancee.”

  “Most of the time I do not even know if you want me as a fiancee at all.”

  “Be that as it may, we are what we are to each other and I have a right to be jealous,” he said.

  “It is your own brutish behavior that got us thrown out then. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “On the contrary. I blame you for encouraging this.”

  “By answering when someone spoke to me?”

  “Is that all you did? Do you enjoy playing the innocent and blaming me for the state of this relationship? Does it make you feel better?”

  Emily didn’t answer him.

  “Who was that man?” he continued.

  “No one.”

  “The same no one who you were seen going around with at the Bartholomew Fair? The earl?”

  There was a lump in her throat.

  “London is a very large place,” said the duke. “But it does get smaller if you travel in certain circles. I suppose someone of your experience would not know. Now lie to me again, Miss Brookes.”

  Emily looked at the door. She wanted so badly to open it and run into the woods. To get as far away from her life as she could. But there was no escape.

  The duke moved forward suddenly, raising his voice and glaring at her. “Lie to me!”

  “I have no more lies.” She yelled too.

  He took a deep breath, then sat back against the seat. “Then what do we have left for each other?”

  “I do not know.” She wanted to cry.