Jamie’s words brought home to Emma how frightened he’d been. On their journey, he’d been stoical, summoning goodness-knows-what reserves to appear cheerful and strong. Because he was the taller, he’d posed as the older boy while Emma had played the part of his younger brother. Her lack of curves had helped with the deception, which had worked well, but now she could see the toll the journey had taken on him. The mask he’d donned with seeming ease for all those weeks had slipped… He was a vulnerable boy of thirteen again.
‘Jamie, it will take more than a small bump on my head to rid you of me,’ she said, injecting her voice with a cheerfulness she didn’t feel. Patting his blond locks as he rested his head on her shoulder, she added, ‘I just needed time to recover, but I’m well now and I’ll soon be walking about once my blisters are healed.’
Taking him by the shoulders, she looked into his eyes. ‘Now tell me what you’ve been doing while I’ve been lazy and lying abed.’
Jamie’s face crumpled.
‘Oh, Emm, Cousin Richard told me that both Grandfather and Uncle Frederick are dead. He thinks the war disrupted communications to Patras and that’s why we didn’t get any news.’
Emma didn’t believe that explanation for one minute. Perhaps Richard Lacey had said it to avoid awkward questions from her little brother. She remained silent as Jamie continued, gulping in breaths between each revelation.
‘Richard says I shouldn’t worry. Grandmamma is still alive. She’s in London. We’ll see her soon. And Emm…’ Jamie’s voice quavered, tears coursing down his cheeks. ‘This means I’m now viscount, doesn’t it? I don’t know what to do.’
Emma hugged him.
‘Hush, Jamie love. Grandfather was getting on in years, remember. We can’t be that surprised that he passed away in our absence, upsetting as it is. But let’s not forget Grandmamma, who has had to carry on, thinking we were all lost. She must have been so lonely, wondering what had happened to us.’
‘I didn’t think. You’re right. It must have been awful for her,’ came Jamie’s muffled reply.
Swiping at his eyes, he straightened up and removed himself from Emma’s arms.
‘I’m all right now, Emm. I’ll look after you and Grandmamma.’ Tugging at the cuffs of his jacket, Jamie straightened his spine and puffed his chest out. ‘This used to be Papa’s when he was my age. Mrs Wrighton found it in the attic. It fits me fine, doesn’t it?’
Nearly overset at the sight of her little brother standing proud in their father’s jacket, Emma could only force a smile and nod. It took a few deep breaths before she was back in control of her emotions. A cool head was needed now more than ever. It was imperative to discover what had happened at Easterby Hall during her family’s absence… and from where the gentleman claiming kinship had suddenly appeared. And despite Jamie’s brave assertion that he was now the head of the family, it was her responsibility to see him safely reunited with Grandmamma and acknowledged as the true viscount.
A movement by the open window caught her eye, and she watched as Richard stepped in from the garden. His tall, imposing figure suddenly made the room feel smaller.
‘Forgive me, Cousin Emma. Jamie and I were in the garden when he saw you were up. I hope he’s not disturbed you. The doctor was insistent that you should rest.’
His smile as he said this set her pulse racing. Emma told herself that she had to stay on her guard; her mother’s words of warning were ringing in her ears.
‘Not at all, sir. Indeed, I was wondering where Jamie had got to. It was so quiet and peaceful here.’ She grinned at Jamie.
Jamie’s cheeks flushed. ‘I’m not noisy.’ He giggled. ‘Well, not all the time.’
‘Do you object if I join you?’ asked Richard, moving towards the fireplace to place a log on the fire. ‘I can then relate to you what I’ve already told your brother.’
Emma bit her lip then nodded. Better to get it all over with. Perhaps he would also explain further his connection to the family.
‘Yes, I’d be grateful if you would. I fear I don’t know or understand what has occurred in our absence.’
What an understatement that was – they’d heard nothing for years.
Richard watched as the lad, Jamie, settled next to his sister. Richard himself chose to sit on the small sofa opposite the pair. He didn’t feel the least bit comfortable, perched as he was on the edge of his seat and attempting a look of unconcern. Thank goodness Jamie had believed him – he was telling the truth, after all. But the lovely Miss Smythe, or Cousin Emma as he should think of her, had been sending him suspicious looks from the minute he’d entered the room. With her hands clenched tightly in her lap, he guessed that she was not as composed as she was pretending to be, but he gave her credit for her easy handling of her brother’s terrors at the reality of becoming viscount. Richard’s jaw tightened. He’d better get all the bad news out of the way at once. With luck, she’d believe him and let down a few of her defences.
‘Well, where do I begin? I should first let you know my place in this, I suppose.’ Emma’s eyes focussed on his face, making him unaccountably nervous. Would he pass the test?
Richard commenced by explaining his relationship to the Smythe family – how he was a distant cousin on his late father’s side. He told them of his immediate family, consisting of his younger brother David, who was just completing his studies at Oxford, and his sister Julia who, at twenty-five, had recently married. How, at the age of twenty-three, nine years previously, he’d become the head of the family, that role being unexpectedly thrust on him by the early demise of his father. Richard finished his account by explaining that he’d only recently been notified of his supposed accession to the title of viscount.
‘I don’t understand. Your surname is different. How could you have inherited the title?’
He smiled back at the frowning Emma. She was intelligent and sharp.
‘Ah, yes, I should explain that anomaly. It was why it took so long for my connection to the Smythe family to be recalled. In fact, I’ve my solicitor, Blake, to thank for that. He’d been going through some old family papers and spotted the name Smythe, a name he’d also recently seen in the Gazette in connection with the court’s decision to declare you and your family dead.’ Richard settled back into his seat. ‘You see, my late father, who was born a Smythe, lost his parents at a very early age. An outbreak of cholera, I understand.’
Emma shook her head in a sympathetic gesture. ‘How dreadful for him.’
‘Indeed. Anyway, Father and his siblings were taken in by an aunt – his mother’s sister – and her husband, Richard Lacey. They were childless, so they raised the children as their own. Father changed his name to Lacey on reaching his majority, in honour of his uncle. He also named his firstborn son after him, which is why I bear his name.’
Emma’s face relaxed. ‘Aah, now I understand.’
Richard’s shoulders felt as if a weight had been removed. He began to hope that she would trust him, after all. He needed her to trust him. Just one more hurdle to go. Richard disclosed the details of their uncle Frederick’s fatal accident and the vague but persistent rumours surrounding it, explaining that their grandfather’s entirely natural death had come a few months later the same year, no doubt precipitated by his futile attempts to contact his younger son.
‘I don’t understand. Papa told the consul in Patras – Mr Strane I think his name was – where we were going. And he wrote several times to Grandfather…’ Emma paused, looking thoughtful. ‘But I admit, Papa soon became so engrossed in his excavations that he stopped writing altogether. Mother and I had concerns that we’d received no replies, but he dismissed us for being foolish.’
Richard inwardly winced. It was Emma’s father who had been a complete fool.
‘What exactly happened to your parents?’ he asked, rubbing his chin nervously. ‘Have you been on your own for some time?’ He’d refrain
ed from questioning Jamie further – the lad had been upset enough worrying about his sister that he hadn’t liked to pry into what were most likely painful matters.
Emma shook her head. ‘Goodness me, no. We’d been living in the small village of Gytheion on the southern coast of the Morea. Papa found some exceptional sites there. Six months ago, he decided his work there was complete and we were about to return to Patras.’ Emma’s voice faltered. ‘Th-the afternoon before our planned departure, he and Mama took a caique out for one last sail.’ There was another pause as she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘The weather turned. There was a storm… It was a week before we received news of their deaths.’ The colour had drained from her cheeks. She placed her arm round her brother’s shoulder.
‘I’m sorry. That must have been awful for you both.’ Richard’s words sounded inadequate even to himself.
‘It was. But we coped.’
Momentarily stunned by her disclosures, Richard now started to gather his wits. What she’d told him didn’t really tally with what he’d learned. Blake had worked hard to glean every bit of information.
‘I understand that your grandfather received a letter from a Mr Bedworth, who worked at the consulate, saying he’d received reports that your family had been attacked and killed by bandits on the way to Sparta. He’d advised that it was too dangerous to send anyone out to ascertain the veracity of the reports and that it would be best to assume it was true.’
‘What!’ Emma sounded angry. ‘That’s ridiculous. We weren’t attacked.’ The colour had now returned to her cheeks. ‘Certainly Papa was advised not to travel further south by Mr Strane, the consul. He warned us that it was a risky undertaking, and Mama and I were all for returning home. But then we received a visit from Mr Bedworth. He said he disagreed with the consul’s assessment and encouraged Papa to go. Of course, Papa did not need much encouragement, and luckily, we encountered no more than the usual problems – broken axles, lame horses, and suchlike.’ Emma frowned. ‘This Mr Bedworth… why would he write such things? I don’t understand.’
‘Didn’t you see him when you returned to Patras?’ Even Emma’s frown was quite attractive, Richard decided.
Emma shot a glance at her brother who shook his head.
‘You’d better tell him, Emma. People are bound to find out.’
There was a defiant glint in her eyes, and Richard wondered what she was about to disclose.
‘We didn’t go back to the consulate. I… I had a bad feeling about Mr Bedworth… about how he’d encouraged Papa to travel south when the consul had urged him not to. And then not receiving any further news from England. It didn’t seem right.’
Richard nodded. It all sounded very odd indeed.
‘Our housekeeper, Ariadne, had family with trading connections,’ Emma continued. ‘They took us as far as Gibraltar. For reasons of safety, as you know, I dressed as a boy. From there, we took the packet back to England, landing at Falmouth. I’d run out of funds by then, so we made our way here on foot. I knew if I could trust anyone, it would be Grandfather.’ She sent him another defiant look.
‘I see.’
What else could he say? Richard had kept his tone neutral, but inside, his emotions were running riot. Why had she felt the need to disguise herself instead of seeking help from compatriots? A lone, defenceless female with only a boy for company.
‘You don’t, do you?’ She glared at him accusingly. ‘I told you that I was uneasy about the lack of communication between Grandfather and Papa. It never seemed right to Mama or me. And Grandfather would never have cut us off. He doted on Jamie.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘In any case, we are home now.’
Richard’s sense of unease was growing, and it wasn’t because of his cousin’s defiant attitude. Something else wasn’t right. Her disclosures had added to his increasing suspicions that somebody held a grudge against the family. Somebody powerful, with far-reaching influence.
As she seemed to be getting her spirit back, he decided to be frank.
‘Yes, you’re both home, thank goodness. But I’m not sure you’re safe.’
Richard watched the shock of his words register in her eyes. Jamie’s head, too, shot up.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Why would we be in danger now? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘I don’t know the reason, and I agree it doesn’t make sense. But I have my suspicions.’ Richard took a breath. ‘Let me tell you what has happened to me since it was announced that I’d inherited the title.’
After Richard had recounted the details of the attempts on his life to his two increasingly shocked listeners, he stood up and began to pace the floor. ‘What also seems odd to me is that the statutory seven years hadn’t elapsed before you were all declared dead. It seems that the evidence of Bedworth’s statement was taken as sufficient proof.’ He halted his pacing and rested his booted foot on the fender, scrutinising his two companions. ‘I’m sorry to upset you, but I need to ask… Do you know if your father had any enemies, anyone with a grudge?’
Emma was the first to shake her head.
‘No. That’s laughable. Who would hold a grudge of that magnitude?’ After a moment’s pause, she added, ‘There was a little rivalry with fellow antiquities enthusiasts. Lord Elgin, as you probably know, had an expedition out there too. We met him in Rome, when he was on his way back to England. Papa and he got on very well, despite the fact that Papa was determined to outdo him. Elgin warned Papa about the inadvisability of venturing south into the Morea, but of course Papa took his warning as proof that there was indeed something there to be found.’ She shook her head again. ‘No, I can’t believe he has anything to do with all this.’
Richard agreed. ‘So you haven’t heard?’ He wondered how much to tell her as he leaned forward to place another log on the fire. ‘Elgin was in Paris when the Peace of Amiens broke down, and was held captive like many other Englishmen who had the misfortune to be there at the wrong time. He didn’t get home for three years. Then there was his divorce… terrible business.’ Richard cleared his throat. ‘Forgive me. You don’t need to know the details of that. But I agree, I think we can rule him out.’
He turned back from the fire to see Emma’s eyes now wide with shock.
‘Then who is it?’ she whispered.
At last… she believed him. Before he could stop himself, his hand had reached out to hers.
‘Forgive my forwardness, Miss Smythe… Cousin Emma. I promise I’ll do all in my power to help you and Jamie. I’ll protect you both and ensure that Jamie is recognised as the true heir to the title.’
Their eyes locked for a moment until Emma seemed to come to her senses and withdrew her hand from his.
‘Thank you… Cousin Richard.’ He heard her take a breath. ‘Well, what are we going to do about our situation? Jamie and I can’t hide away forever.’ A glitter of determination appeared in her eyes. ‘In fact, I refuse to hide. Jamie and I need to get to London.’
Richard thudded back into his seat on the sofa in disbelief. She believed the threat was real but was talking about taking yet more risks. Would the woman not see sense?
‘Look, I know you’ve done some incredible things, but you’re not on your own any more. There’s no point in putting yourselves in danger.’ He was finding it difficult to disguise his annoyance. ‘Leave everything to me. I’ve written to your grandmother, and my sister will be arriving shortly too, to provide you with some female company.’ He forced a smile. ‘I’ve set investigations in motion and I’ll soon get to the bottom of things. In the meantime, I don’t want you to concern yourself with these problems.’
Even as the words left his lips, Richard knew he’d made a mistake. Emma’s grey eyes narrowed and her chin jutted defiantly.
‘I really don’t think you are in a position to issue orders,’ she said through what he was sure were clenched teet
h. ‘And I hope you don’t intend to leave me in the dark with regard to matters pertaining to my family.’ In glacial tones, she continued, ‘I apologise if I sound shrewish, but I’m not going to be ordered about and brushed aside just because I’m a female. I’ve seen too much of the consequences of that, and I’ve learned my lesson.’
There was a challenge in her eyes that took him aback. He mentally kicked himself for not handling it better. To achieve what she had showed she was no milk-and-water miss, so why had he foolishly treated her like one?
‘I apologise for my peremptory words. But we do belong to the same family, and therefore I should do my part.’ Richard spoke softly. ‘And I assure you that I wouldn’t dream of leaving you in the dark. You have my word that I’ll consult you before taking any action.’
Her frosty glare melted, much to his relief, and she nodded her acquiescence. So he’d convinced her of his sincerity, but she’d made it plain that she wasn’t going to sit back and let him get on with things alone. As Richard watched her quietly comfort her brother, who’d remained silent throughout the discussion, it dawned on him that he was dealing with a female possessed of a core of steel. Someone a little like his sister, another strong-minded woman. Yet he didn’t feel in the least fraternal towards Emma Smythe… no, not at all.
After an excellent dinner, Emma retired to the library with Cousin Richard – much to her own surprise, she was already thinking of him as a cousin. Jamie had already excused himself and had gone to bed some time earlier.
‘I’ll ask Wrighton to bring some tea, or would you prefer a glass of port?’ asked Richard as he led her to a seat near the fire.
‘I’d prefer tea, please, but don’t forgo your port on my account.’ Emma smiled as she gazed round at her surroundings. The book-lined walls, the cosy fire, they’d all seemed only a distant memory just a short time ago. Now she was here at last.
The clock ticking on the mantelpiece and the occasional crackle of wood from the fire were the only sounds as Richard read his book and Emma sipped her tea, revelling in the peace and tranquillity of the moment. She’d persuaded him to read, unsure that she was up to a prolonged conversation. Fortunately, gentleman that he was, he’d understood her need for quiet and had dutifully selected a volume and now appeared to be concentrating on the text. A wave of gratitude swept over her for his forbearance.
A Gentleman’s Promise: A Regency Romance (Gentlemen Book 1) Page 4