A Gentleman’s Promise: A Regency Romance (Gentlemen Book 1)

by Penny Hampson

  ‘Does that happen often?’ asked Richard, shaking his head.

  The old man squinted up at him.

  ‘Nay, most folks are honest, though there’s always a few bad apples.’ He thumped his chest and gave a raspy cough. ‘Always one or two young bucks think it fun to distract me while their cronies race through.’ The look in his eyes turned suspicious. ‘Friend of yours, is he?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ answered Richard in haughty tones. ‘But have this in any case.’ He tossed down sufficient coins to pay for two riders. The toll keeper’s expression transformed from suspicion to bonhomie. With a toothless grin, he touched his forelock.

  ‘You’re a true gent, sir. Have a safe journey.’

  ‘Thank you. Good day to you.’

  Richard dug his heels in and spurred his horse into a gallop. But there was no sign of the impatient rider on the road into Eynsham. Quelling his anger – he’d been ready to give the chap a piece of his mind – he told himself that there was no point in getting involved in further trouble. He’d enough to deal with as it was. Slowing to a gentle trot, he followed the signpost for Witney, where the empty road stretched into the distance and there was nothing to see but bare fields and the occasional clump of woodland.

  Richard decided instead to concentrate his thoughts on Emma, a more pleasant subject than reckless riders. He’d much to share with her, and questions too. Did she know if Wheatley had any possible connection to the Smythe family? Perhaps her father had said something?

  Lord, he was eager to see her again and not just to question her about Wheatley. She was so different from most other young ladies of his acquaintance. There was a reserve about her coupled with sensitivity. Yet he’d also seen steely determination in her eyes. He pictured her enigmatic smile and sparkling, intelligent grey eyes. Her dark-brown hair had felt gloriously soft and silky against his cheek when he’d carried her – to think she’d blithely hacked most of it off in order to pass as a boy! Something about her drew him like a moth to a flame. Something more than duty, more than the attractions of her body… more even than the promise he’d made.

  Richard sighed and frowned, glancing at the sky ahead. Grey clouds were gathering in the west. The church spire in the distance told him it wasn’t much further to Witney. With luck, he’d be back at Easterby Hall before the storm broke. And what a blessing it would be to remove his boots, he acknowledged to himself wryly, even though he’d be obliged to put up with Carter’s smirks for some time to come.

  Richard bent his head to scrutinise the offending articles. As he did so, something whistled past his ear and embedded itself with a loud thud into the trunk of the tree on the far side of the road. A curse left his lips as Caesar reared up, nearly unseating him. Regaining his balance, Richard got control of the panicking horse and turned his head in the direction of the shot… for that was what it was, he was certain. Someone had fired at him.

  Through the growing gloom, he spotted a figure on horseback lurking in the copse at the side of the road. Richard guessed that, whoever it was, they were reloading their pistol. He didn’t hesitate. Spurring his mount into a gallop, he headed straight for his attacker. The rider looked up, wheeled his horse around, and set off across the fields. His temper riled, Richard’s first thought was to pursue, but common sense told him it would not be a wise course of action. Better to return in one piece to Easterby Hall and make sure Emma, Julia, and Jamie were safe.

  His face set in grim determination, Richard returned to the road.

  Night was drawing in by the time Richard reached Easterby Hall. Thankfully, the remainder of the journey had been uneventful. Apart from a carrier, his wagon laden with Witney blankets bound for Burford, Richard had encountered no-one. Leaving his horse with a groom, he entered the house by one of the side doors, pausing only to check with one of the manservants whether all had been well in his absence. Reassured that everything was as it should be, he continued up to his room to change before seeking out Emma and Julia. It wasn’t long before Carter arrived bearing a welcome pitcher of hot water.

  ‘Welcome home, sir. Thought you might like to tidy up with a wash and a shave.’

  ‘You do anticipate my needs, Carter. It’s most unsettling that you seem to read my mind.’

  ‘Just doing my job, sir. How are the boots, by the way?’

  Was that a smirk on the man’s face?

  ‘Funny you should ask, Carter. I think they may have saved my life.’

  Chapter 8

  Having changed into more suitable clothes for dining at home, Richard headed for the library, drawn by the sound of voices and laughter. There, he found Jamie on the rug in front of the fire playing spillikins, while Julia and Emma were together on the sofa, huddled over a copy of La Belle Assemblée and laughing at the illustrations of the latest styles.

  ‘I couldn’t possibly wear that. Why, it’s positively indecent. Are the fashions truly now so extreme?’ Emma’s words of mock horror reminded him how long she’d been away from England.

  ‘Oh, some are much worse,’ said Julia with a chuckle. She caught sight of her brother and leapt up to greet him. ‘Richard! You’re back!’

  Enveloped in his sister’s hug, he saw a blush appear on Emma’s cheeks as she too rose from her seat and smiled her welcome. Jamie’s spillikins were abandoned as he rushed to greet Richard, nearly overbalancing him with his exuberance.

  ‘Oh marvellous, you’re back. I can go out riding again.’ Jamie’s tone became indignant. ‘You wouldn’t believe it, Cousin Richard. They wouldn’t let me go further than the paddock, and even then I had to have a groom with me. I’m not a child, you know.’

  One of the drawbacks of family life, mused Richard, was having to act the authority figure from time to time. He’d gone through much the same thing with David.

  ‘Steady on, old chap. How are you? Still in one piece, I see. I’m glad to hear the ladies have been taking my instructions seriously.’

  Jamie’s look became incredulous. ‘Your instructions? You mean you told them to keep me by the house? Why?’

  Before Richard could reply, Emma briskly cut in. ‘Jamie, I told you. Someone seems to be causing trouble for our family, and we need to find out who it is before any more accidents occur.’

  Richard was pleased that Emma didn’t dissemble. She’d also used the words “our family”. Did that mean she fully accepted him?

  Jamie’s mouth opened to object, but Richard got in first.

  ‘Your sister is correct, Jamie.’

  The lad looked at him in surprise and shut his mouth again, so Richard decided to continue. Might as well get it over with while they were all together, he told himself. ‘Talking about accidents… something happened on my way back from Oxford.’

  Emma blanched. ‘My goodness, are you all right, Richard? I’d never forgive myself if you suffered because of our family connection.’

  He sent her a reassuring smile. ‘Yes, I’m all in one piece and fine. Well, apart from my feet and possibly my pride.’

  Julia, in her decisive way, demanded, ‘Tell us what happened, Richard, for goodness’ sake. Can’t you see Emma and I are worried?’

  ‘Someone took a shot at me as I was coming back. Fortunately, they missed.’ There was a collective gasp, but Richard ignored it and carried on. He’d far more important news to disclose. ‘I only caught a glimpse of the fellow before he raced off. As it was getting late, I thought it best to come straight here to make sure you were all safe rather than risk chasing after him.’ His eyes focussed on Emma. ‘Besides, I think I may have discovered who is behind it all.’

  Emma’s heart had leapt when Richard appeared in the doorway of the drawing room, looking very handsome. She’d missed his company the previous evening, despite her efforts to keep herself occupied. Now she felt positively ill. He’d been put in danger because of her. And here he was, saying he knew the ide
ntity of the culprit.

  ‘Wh-who do you think it might be?’ she asked, trying unsuccessfully not to betray her nerves.

  He guided her by the elbow back to the sofa. The moment his hand touched her arm, a feeling of calm settled over her. Somehow, his presence made her feel safe.

  ‘Did you ever hear your father speak of the Duke of Wheatley?’

  She racked her brains but came up with nothing.

  ‘Not that I can recall. Father moved in academic circles. He and Mama rarely attended social events, and I don’t remember the duke’s name in connection with any of his scholarly pursuits.’ Emma sucked her cheeks in and frowned. ‘Is he an antiquarian too?’

  Richard’s face was grim. ‘I’m fairly certain he has no interest in antiquarian matters.’

  ‘Why do you think Wheatley is responsible then? Surely there’s no other reason for anyone to hold a grudge against my father. It might just all be some terrible misunderstanding.’ To her surprise, two spots of colour appeared on Richard’s cheeks, and he tugged at the edges of his neckcloth as if it were suddenly too tight. She made her mind up. ‘I’ll speak to His Grace and clear the matter up.’

  ‘Good grief, no!’ was Richard’s abrupt and loud response.

  ‘How dare you!’ The words were out of Emma’s mouth before she could stop them. She wasn’t going to be ordered about. Glancing at Julia’s white face, she could see she was shocked too, but whether at her brother’s words or her own, Emma couldn’t tell.

  Richard bit his lip.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.’ His tone was conciliatory. ‘It’s just that… well, I want to be absolutely certain before we make accusations. If he is innocent, that could cause us more trouble – something we don’t need at the moment. But if he is the culprit, there’s no telling what he might do.’ Richard’s eyes narrowed in a warning. ‘He’s a very powerful and influential man, after all.’

  Emma was gratified by his apology, but she wasn’t going to be fobbed off. It was her brother who was in danger, and so it was her responsibility to solve the problem. She’d proved that she could achieve things that women were not supposed to be able to do. It would take more than an oblique warning from Richard to divert her from her purpose.

  ‘Yes, I understand what you’re saying. But what shall I do?’

  Richard’s jaw tightened and she could tell he was going to scold, but before he could say anything, Julia stepped in.

  ‘Perhaps we should discuss that after dinner. Here’s Wrighton now.’

  Emma, not wishing to cause a scene, nodded her agreement and allowed herself to be led into the dining room by a now rather grim-faced Richard.

  Richard leaned against the mantelpiece and took a sip from the glass of port in his hand. The lines of his face had relaxed somewhat.

  ‘That’s settled then. Tomorrow we’ll head off to London.’ He looked at his sister. ‘Julia, if you’d be good enough to reside in my townhouse, then Emma and Jamie will be suitably chaperoned. I’m sure George will be happy to join you there.’

  ‘But I still don’t see why I cannot stay with my grandmother,’ remonstrated Emma. She’d been engrossed in pouring the tea when his words caught her attention. How would she be able to make her own investigations under Richard’s constant scrutiny? He meant well, and she was grateful for his help, but she felt compelled to play an active part and not just be a passive bystander. She was not a helpless female waiting for a man to come and rescue her, even though it would be so easy to let him take control. Memories of her mother stiffened her resolve.

  Julia answered Emma’s question.

  ‘But you don’t know how her health is yet or whether she has recovered from her ague. Think of the shock if any more attempts are made.’

  Emma flushed. Julia was right.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t think. You’re correct, of course.’

  No, Emma didn’t know at all what state her grandmother was in. It seemed that she’d no option but to agree to Richard’s plans… for now.

  She glanced at Richard, still lounging by the fireplace. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was looking somewhat smug.

  He addressed her directly. ‘No-one knows that you and Jamie have returned safely to England. If you stay with your grandmother, word is bound to get back to the duke… or whoever it is who’s responsible for our current problems.’ He set his glass down and began to pace back and forth in front of the fire. ‘Her servants may talk. Whereas my staff are paid well and know where their loyalties lie.’ He paused his pacing to twitch the ormolu clock on the mantelpiece into a better alignment. ‘I’ve been thinking that we could pass you off as distant cousins, come to spend time in London, which is true enough. By keeping as near to the truth as possible, we shall get by.’ Richard turned to face her, a look of pleading in his dark eyes. ‘You’d be able to visit your grandmother quite openly that way, as I’m sure no-one will recognise you after all this time. Come on, what do you say to that?’

  Emma took a breath and considered the smooth words delivered with a most engaging smile. Richard’s tone had been coaxing, persuasive. A dangerous man. She’d have to maintain her guard. There was no telling what else he could persuade her to. It was also infuriating how he’d anticipated all her objections.

  Feeling thoroughly outmanoeuvred, she answered, ‘You seem to have thought of everything. But do you agree, Julia? I feel bad at disrupting your life too.’

  ‘Nonsense, my dear,’ said Julia, putting her arm round Emma’s shoulder. ‘We’re friends, are we not, and cousins, in truth? I’m perfectly happy to stay in the family townhouse with you. It’s much more modern than the Morton townhouse, with every convenience.’ Her eyes crinkled as she giggled. ‘Besides, I’m sure George won’t have any objections. In fact, he’ll be in heaven. He’s been trying to tempt Richard’s cook away for ages, so to dine there every day… well!’

  Richard arched his eyebrow at Emma. ‘That’s settled, then? No more objections to my plan?’

  Emma, knowing she was beaten, nodded.

  Later, alone in her room, Emma pondered what she was going to do. Happy that she would see her grandmother at last, she was more than a little anxious about Richard’s plans to involve himself in what she considered to be her problems. He was a distant cousin, after all, and it was her responsibility to protect her brother. But the infuriating man was set on risking his own life by continuing the fiction that the title was his. Should she really have agreed to let him do so? Her brow wrinkled in a frown. On the other hand, it might keep Jamie from danger. Lord, what a conundrum. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. She’d been shocked beyond measure at Richard’s account of the attempt on his life on his way back from Oxford and sick at the thought of him being killed.

  Her mouth set in a firm line. Somehow, with or without Richard’s blessing, she’d sort matters for her family.

  Left on his own, Richard took his time finishing his port, musing on the best way for them to travel on the morrow. He decided Emma and Jamie should go with his sister in her carriage, while he rode alongside on Caesar. Philip Cullen, his man of business would follow in the curricle.

  Richard smiled to himself. Phil was rather more than a man of business, though what he was Richard couldn’t entirely be sure, but he had his suspicions. Phil’s life outside of his work for Richard was shrouded in secrecy. Contacted by Lord Liverpool to take Phil on, Richard had readily agreed when it was made known that Phil was working for the government. Important work in the war against Napoleon.

  All Richard had known about the personable chap was that he was a younger son, from Cornwall like himself, and with no estate to inherit. Free of ties, he was the perfect government agent. At least, that had been the case until a short time ago when Phil’s older brother had unexpectedly died, leaving Phil with an estate and responsibilities, a situation which would have to be resolved.


  Since being taken on, Phil had impressed Richard with his intelligence and application. In return, Richard was happy to turn a blind eye to Phil’s irregular hours, as long as the job Richard paid him for was completed. So far, all had worked well. Phil also happened to be a regular at Gentleman Jackson’s and was a pretty good shot – handy if they were waylaid on the journey. Richard fervently hoped Phil’s martial skills wouldn’t be required.

  Phil’s connection to the War Office had been another reason for Richard’s surprise on learning of Wheatley’s involvement with the same department. He’d spoken to Phil about Rogers’ claims about the duke, but Phil had been sceptical and urged him to be cautious.

  ‘I’m only small fry there,’ Phil had told him, ‘but I can tell you that Wheatley is very well thought of. I’m not quite sure what he is responsible for – as you know, we’re only told what we need to know and no more – but you can be certain he is more concerned with pursuing French informants than personal vendettas.’

  Richard had been inclined to agree.

  Richard returned to working out his plans for the following day. He’d decided that Carter and the two maids should travel in the large carriage with the luggage. They were unlikely to be targets. He calculated that they would require one overnight stop before reaching his house in Bedford Square.

  Richard set his glass down with a satisfied smile. Now he’d convinced Emma to agree to his plans, it wouldn’t take long for him to get to the bottom of things. She’d be unable to get up to any dangerous nonsense while under his roof. He’d promised to keep her safe, and he was a man of his word. He yawned as he made his way upstairs. Yes, soon all would be well.

  Chapter 9

  A late, hard frost greeted them the next morning. The carriage horses, eager to be off, stomped on the iron ground and tossed their manes. Joe Henning was having a time of it keeping them under control.