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

by Penny Hampson

  Seeing the anxiety on the maid’s face, Emma reluctantly capitulated. Inside, she was angry. Why did Richard feel it necessary to order things without consulting her? She’d cared for Jamie successfully up to now, but it seemed as if Richard wanted to take control. Her mother was right, she told herself. If she didn’t want to live a life of total subjugation, she should avoid marriage at all costs.

  Some time later, Emma joined the others in the drawing room, where she was at last introduced to George. Emma couldn’t see why Julia had said he resembled Richard. Physically, he was quite different, being stockier and blond, whereas Richard was tall and dark. She didn’t fail to notice the glances he kept giving his wife and the careful way he tended her. A pang of jealousy shot through Emma. How nice it would be if someone cared for her like that. What was she thinking? she reprimanded herself. She wanted to be independent, didn’t she?

  The clock struck nine, Grimes announced that dinner was ready, and they all trooped into the adjacent dining room. Emma was placed next to Richard, who was at the head of the table. A further place had been laid next to hers. George and Julia were already seated on the opposite side of the table, so she wondered whom the vacant place was for. The minutes ticked by. Grimes hovered near the door, awaiting his instruction to serve the meal. Emma could see Richard’s frown as he made distracted small talk with George. Julia was contemplating the ceiling and tapping her fingers on the knife beside her side plate. When Emma at last caught her gaze, Julia rolled her eyes.

  Then the dining-room door swung open, nearly oversetting the footman stationed beside it, and a tall, young gentleman entered, clutching a book that he appeared to be reading. His dark, curly hair identified him as a member of the Lacey family, but unlike the carefully groomed and precisely attired Richard, this young man’s creased jacket, dishevelled hair, and carelessly tied neckcloth declared that they were totally dissimilar in character.

  ‘David, so glad you could join us at last.’

  Richard’s ironic welcome roused the young man from his intense contemplation of his book. Emma smiled at his look of surprise. It was as if he hadn’t expected to find himself in a dining room with four pairs of eyes staring at him.

  ‘Oh hello, Richard. You’re back. Good evening, Julia. You’re back too. Evening, George.’

  The young man caught sight of Emma and squinted, as if trying to recall her name. Emma smiled at him and he coloured up.

  ‘Yes, I’m back,’ said Richard. ‘And not a moment too soon. What have they been teaching you in Oxford? Not manners, I see. You’re late, David, and we’ve been waiting for you.’

  David dragged his gaze away from Emma and looked awkwardly at his brother, who added, ‘Anyway, you’re here now, and we must be grateful, I suppose, that you’ve managed to tear yourself away from your books.’ Richard chuckled. ‘Well, apart from the one in your hand. Emma, may I present to you my brother David who, as you can see, takes his studies very seriously. David, this is Miss Emma Smith, our distant cousin. She and her young brother will be staying with us for the time being.’

  Richard didn’t elaborate further, and David didn’t question anything he’d been told. His book was shoved into a frayed pocket – a pocket which, by its condition, had been similarly ill-used on a regular basis. Now unencumbered, David made her a courteous bow.

  ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Smith,’ he said as he took her hand. ‘I apologise for keeping you waiting. I’m afraid I was rather engrossed.’

  Her eyes twinkled in amusement. ‘I think you must be studying something very important if it keeps you from your food.’

  David’s eyes lit up as if he’d discovered a kindred spirit. ‘Yes, very important indeed. Some colleagues and I have just discovered a text in the Bodleian that sheds important light on our understanding of some of Galen’s theories.’ He sat down beside her and added confidentially, ‘We’re all very excited, and I was just checking a more recent interpretation to refresh my memory. I intend to submit a paper on it—’

  ‘David, I’m sure Cousin Emma will be interested to hear more about your discovery later, but please may we start?’ Richard cut in. His mild reprimand came with a smile. ‘My brother is a scholar like yourself, Emma, though he favours the scientific classical texts.’

  A gleam of something like respect appeared in David’s eyes.

  ‘You’re a scholar too, Cousin Emma? What is it you study?’

  Gratified that he didn’t express astonishment at her learning, Emma relaxed and enjoyed chatting with him throughout the meal.

  Once dinner was over, David announced that he was meeting with some friends and made his apologies before departing.

  ‘David is a bit of a law unto himself, I’m afraid,’ Richard explained. ‘Lives in a world of his own most of the time. Still, at least he’s not part of the dandy set. Doesn’t really cause me an ounce of worry.’

  He and George decided to take their port with the ladies in the drawing room. Richard took up a stance by the fire, with one foot resting on the fender and his elbow on the mantelpiece. Emma, who was seated nearby, tried not to let her eyes wander towards his muscled thighs encased in form-fitting kerseymere breeches, instead forcing her gaze up to his face.

  Richard took a sip from his glass and smiled down at her. ‘I’ve sent word to the dowager, and she expects your call tomorrow. In fact, she’d been planning to set off for Minster Lovell herself at first light, in contradiction of her physician’s advice.’ He chuckled. ‘She sounds quite the intrepid lady. Just let Grimes know when you’re ready to leave and he’ll have the coach brought round.’ He looked over at his sister, who was engrossed in something else entirely, namely her husband, who was whispering into her ear. ‘Will you be able to accompany Emma, Julia?’

  Julia, all flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, started at the sound of her name.

  ‘What’s that? Accompany Emma? Of course. I’d be delighted.’ She sent Emma a searching glance. ‘Unless you have any objection, Emma dear?’

  Emma, stifling her indignation at Richard’s taking charge yet again, answered sweetly.

  ‘Thank you for arranging that, Richard. Yes, Julia, I’d very much like you to accompany me.’ She shrugged. ‘I don’t know why, but I’m anxious about meeting Grandmamma after all this time.’

  Richard, a troubled look on his face, interjected.

  ‘There’s no need, I assure you. I’ve arranged for two armed grooms to attend you at all times when you’re out.’ He gave her an earnest smile. ‘I’ll come with you if you wish, though I had other plans to take matters further with regard to the investigation.’

  Emma was exasperated at the high-handed manner in which he’d arranged things without consulting her again. How on earth was she going to make her own investigations if she was to be watched at all times? She had to think of some way to speak to Wheatley without Richard finding out.

  Her reply came out through clenched teeth.

  ‘You misunderstand, Richard. I merely meant I’m a little apprehensive about meeting Grandmamma. I don’t know what her true state of health is, and I don’t want her to be shocked at my appearance. I’m certainly not anxious about going out and about.’

  Richard looked deflated. She almost felt sorry for him.

  ‘Of course. I understand,’ he said, blinking. ‘I’m sorry. It’s my fault entirely.’ He cleared his throat and tugged at his neckcloth. ‘I should have consulted you, I know. I’ve become unaccustomed to consulting others, I’m afraid. Especially since Julia left to get married.’ He shot Julia a rueful look. ‘Tell me I used to take account of your feelings.’

  ‘Yes, indeed you did, silly man. As if you could’ve ignored me!’

  George guffawed and rolled his eyes, whereupon his loving wife gave him a sharp dig in the ribs. Emma, taken aback by Richard’s very handsome apology – had she misjudged him? – decided it was tim
e for her to return to her room. She needed to think.

  ‘I’ll retire for the night, if you don’t mind, everyone. I’m feeling a little wrung out.’

  Richard held out his arm. ‘Come, I’ll accompany you upstairs. In fact, why don’t we check on Jamie, make sure he’s fast asleep?’

  Emma, relieved that she hadn’t completely alienated him and not wanting to lose his friendship, felt an apology of her own was in order as they climbed the stairs.

  ‘How thoughtful of you. This house is so large. I confess I would find it difficult to find my own way back to my room.’ She tipped her head up to him, but he resolutely continued to look straight ahead. ‘By the way, I’m sorry for being a little sharp. I know you only mean well.’

  His fingers rested briefly on her arm, sending quivers of excitement through her.

  ‘I beg you, don’t think any more about it. I know I can be a bit overbearing at times,’ he said gruffly. ‘I don’t mean to rule you. I just want to sort this mess out, for all of us. You must know that I have the highest regard for you.’ There was a moment’s pause. ‘I hope you’ve not lost your good opinion of me?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she answered. ‘I… I just find it difficult being told what to do. There is no need.’ There. She’d told him, made it absolutely clear she was not a docile female, not suitable wife material for any man.

  By now they’d reached the landing and Richard, without speaking, took both her hands in his and looked down into her eyes. Emma frowned. Had her words not repelled him? His thumbs caressed the backs of her hands. The intense look in his eyes made her skin tingle and her pulse race. She swept her tongue over her lips, which had suddenly become very dry. She shouldn’t be doing this, Emma told herself. She pulled her hands away and the spell was broken. As if coming to his senses, Richard took a step back. He coughed. Emma wondered if his throat was as dry as her lips.

  He gestured to the door, not meeting her eyes. ‘This is Jamie’s room. Go and check on him, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, my dear.’ He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, resting his hands on her shoulders. For one deliciously agonising moment, Emma thought he was going to continue. She wasn’t at all sure she’d resist if he did. Instead, she heard his deep intake of breath before he released her and strode away.

  Chapter 11

  After a restless night, Emma rose and took breakfast alone in the smaller of the parlours. Richard had left a note to say he was pursuing inquiries with his solicitor. She pondered what had happened the night before. Had she upset him with her declaration of independence? He’d given no clue but had then surprised her with a kiss. Not a lover’s kiss, she knew – though her experience of those was non-existent – but it hadn’t been entirely brotherly. Emma trembled, recalling how gentle he’d been and the troubled look in his eyes. What had he meant by it?

  But she needed to focus and keep her mama’s words in mind. She couldn’t afford to succumb to a gentleman’s charms unless she was prepared to live her life as little more than a chattel.

  Emma was still lost in her thoughts when Julia bounced in, full of smiles.

  ‘What a lovely morning. How are you? Did you sleep well?’ her friend asked as she helped herself to a bread roll.

  ‘Yes, it is. And I did, thank you.’ Emma sent Julia a quizzical look. ‘You’re looking a lot better than I expected for this time of day.’

  Julia blushed. ‘Yes, well, I have been up some hours. I thought if I got the sick part over with early, the rest of the day should be fine.’

  ‘Is George joining us?’

  Julia blushed even more.

  ‘Er, no. I think he’s decided to lie abed a little longer.’ Julia walked over to the window and looked out. ‘Why don’t we go out for a stroll before calling on your grandmother? It’s such a fine day. I’ll ask for the carriage to meet us at the park gate, if that suits you?’

  Emma thought a walk to settle her nerves was just what was required, so an hour before she was due to make her call, both ladies left the townhouse for the nearby park. Daffodils were on the point of coming into bloom and fading snowdrops were being replaced by colourful crocuses scattered amongst the flower beds. Emma tilted her head up to gaze at the clear blue sky as her breath condensed in the air.

  ‘I forgot how beautiful England can be in the springtime. I did miss it.’

  ‘Yes, I can see you would miss all this.’ Julia gestured to the still-bare trees and the puddles on the pathway.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ said Emma, laughing.

  The two friends continued their stroll, ignoring as best they could the two burly footmen who followed a few steps behind. After completing their leisurely circuit of the flowerbeds, the ladies headed for the park gates and the awaiting coach.

  The elderly butler who greeted them at the front door of the Easterby townhouse ushered them into a drawing room on the first floor.

  ‘I’ll just inform the dowager of your arrival, Mrs Morton, Miss Smith.’

  He bowed and backed out of the room. They had deemed it wise to keep Emma’s true identity a secret from the staff, not knowing how loyal they were. Emma hoped none of them would recognise her. Surely she’d changed beyond all recognition from the gauche girl she’d been when she left? But what if Grandmamma didn’t recognise her? What then? The thought set her pacing the floor.

  At that moment, the door opened and a petite, stately lady of advanced years sailed in. Her sharp eyes swept over Julia before alighting on Emma, who’d now ceased her pacing and was staring back. The dowager’s eyes widened and she gasped.

  ‘Is it really you, Emma dear?’ she asked, her voice husky with emotion. The old lady moved nearer, her arms reaching out. ‘Let me look at you… Yes, yes, it is. To think that I’d given up all hope. Come closer, Emma dear. Let me see your face.’ The dowager gently cupped Emma’s face, scrutinising her with intelligent blue eyes – eyes brimming with unshed tears.

  ‘Oh, my dear, dear Emma. You’re home at last.’

  ‘Yes, Grandmamma, it’s me. I’m home now. Oh, how I’ve missed you.’

  The pair of them dissolved into tears as they hugged each other.

  Emma pulled herself together first, acutely aware that Julia, still awaiting an introduction, was no doubt feeling awkward at witnessing such an outpouring of emotion.

  ‘I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to upset you, Grandmamma. I know you’ve suffered too.’

  ‘Nonsense, my child. I’m older and more resilient,’ the dowager replied briskly, though it was noticeable that her grip on Emma’s arm remained. It was as if she were concerned that her granddaughter would disappear if released. ‘I’ve had the support of friends. By all accounts, you’ve coped on your own and with the added responsibility of keeping young James safe all these months.’ She beamed at Emma and stroked her hair.

  ‘What a brave, capable young lady you’ve become. I’m so proud of you.’ The dowager’s face suddenly clouded. ‘But where is James? Is he not with you?’

  ‘He’s well, Grandmamma,’ Emma reassured her. ‘He is just er… slightly indisposed this morning, so we thought it best that he stay away.’

  Her grandmother gave her a sharp look.

  ‘Please don’t offer me Spanish coin, my dear. Tell me the truth.’

  Julia stepped in, breaking all the rules of polite society by addressing a lady of higher rank without an introduction. She gave a deep curtsey.

  ‘My lady, please forgive me. I’m Mrs Julia Morton, sister to Richard Lacey. Our families are distantly related. I’m afraid Jamie… er… sustained a slight injury on the journey from Easterby Hall to London.’ The dowager’s eyes widened as Julia continued to explain. ‘A shot intended for my brother unfortunately struck Jamie instead. The doctor who saw him has assured us that it is but a flesh wound. Thanks to Emma’s quick actions, he will be up in no time.’

 
The dowager’s face had paled, but her response was robust.

  ‘Thank you for explaining, Mrs Morton. I’m pleased someone is being honest with me.’ She rolled her eyes at her granddaughter. ‘I’m not made of porcelain, you know, my darling.’ Taking Emma’s hand, she squeezed it, then smiled at Julia.

  ‘Now, do let us all sit down and take some tea.’

  Some time later, when emotions had settled, the dowager leaned in and confided to Emma, ‘Don’t be shocked at my present lack of tears for your parents, my darling. I can assure you I’ve shed them many times, especially when we lost touch and, of course, when they were finally declared dead by the courts.’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘It’s something of a relief to me to discover exactly what happened. I’ve suffered many a sleepless night wondering, you know.’ The dowager pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘It pains me to say it, but Charles was a fool to travel abroad. And why he insisted on taking you all with him, I’ll never understand. But he would not be dissuaded. Stubborn like his brother.’ She gave another deep sigh and set her teacup down before addressing Julia. ‘And now your brother has written to me that Frederick’s death may not have been an accident.’ She gestured for Emma and Julia to help themselves to more of the dainty pastries that had been served with the tea. ‘I had my suspicions at the time. Such a troublesome boy. I guessed that he was bound to have enemies. He kept some very queer company. But your grandfather, bless him, insisted on shielding me from any unpleasantness.’ She gave a harsh laugh. ‘As if I wouldn’t hear the whispers and gossip. I knew Frederick had a poor reputation.’ Almost to herself, she added, ‘What a trial sons can be.’

  Suddenly perking up, the dowager turned to Julia. ‘Now, Julia. I believe I owe your brother an immense debt of gratitude for taking care of my grandchildren. Furthermore, it appears to me that my grandson’s arrival has denied him an inheritance, making your brother’s kind behaviour even more generous. When may I meet with him?’