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

by Penny Hampson

  ‘Grandmamma, calm yourself, I beg you.’

  ‘I’m perfectly calm, Emma. I’m just a little impatient to meet my grandson. Don’t treat me as if I’m made of glass.’ The smile on the dowager’s face smoothed the reproof of her words. Halting her pacing to check her appearance in the large mirror above the mantelpiece, the old lady pushed a stray silver hair back under her satin-and-lace cap. Satisfied, she turned to face the door.

  The door opened, and Dent announced with all pomp, ‘Mr Francis Heslop, Your Ladyship.’

  Francis entered rather hesitantly. His gaze flicked briefly round the room before it settled on the dowager, who was advancing towards him, her eyes overly bright. Dressed in a smart, navy-coloured morning coat, white Marcella waistcoat, and drab pantaloons, he cut an elegant but not over-showy figure. Bowing low, he addressed the dowager.

  ‘I’m grateful that you have agreed to receive me, Lady Easterby.’

  Disregarding all pretence at politeness, the dowager grasped the startled Francis by the arm and tugged him towards the light of the window.

  ‘My dear boy, come here and let me see you,’ she ordered. ‘Oh my goodness, you are so like my Charles when he was your age.’ Her face crinkled with joy. ‘And Freddie too. That wretched boy, why did he not tell me about you? Why did he abandon you? I can’t find it in my heart to forgive him, God help me.’

  The face that had been smiling up at him now crumpled, and a tear rolled down the dowager’s cheek. Emma watched as Francis, putting a tentative arm round her grandmother’s shoulder, guided her to the sofa. From his expression, it was apparent that he’d been deeply moved by her words.

  Dabbing at her eyes, the dowager composed herself.

  ‘I’ll be all right in a minute, my boy. Emma, don’t you think he looks just like your dear papa?’

  ‘He does indeed, Grandmamma. Let me ring for some tea, and then you and Francis may get to know one another better.’

  The dowager grasped Francis’ hand.

  ‘I want to hear all about you, my boy, and then we must make plans to introduce you into society as my grandson.’

  Francis, who’d barely uttered a word since his arrival, stammered, ‘Are you s-s-sure, Lady Easterby? I’m q-q-quite happy for just you and Cousin Emma to acknowledge me. I don’t expect anything further. I understand how it would cause embarrassment.’

  The dowager snorted.

  ‘Nonsense, my boy. I had enough embarrassment thanks to Freddie’s antics when he was alive. His misdeeds are not going to dictate what I can or cannot do now he’s dead, the wretched boy. Goodness knows, as his mother, it is left to me to try and make some amends for his despicable treatment of you.’ She prodded his chest with a beringed finger. ‘You’re my grandson, and I will treat you as such. Anyone who feels affronted, well, they can take themselves off. And I insist you call me Grandmamma, young man.’

  ‘As you wish… Grandmamma.’

  ‘Now, Francis, tell me about your mother. I’m told that she was of gentle birth.’

  Francis’ face softened. ‘Indeed she was, Grandmamma.’ Faced with a barrage of questions not only about his mother and her family but his schooling and life at university, Francis answered them all patiently, his voice emotion-filled whenever he spoke about his mother.

  Every so often, the dowager tutted and shook her head.

  ‘Dear me, to think I never knew.’

  When Francis eventually explained that he was employed by the Duke of Wheatley, the dowager’s expression became thoughtful.

  ‘Let me think, yes, I’m sure it was Wheatley who contacted my solicitor to inquire if Easterby Hall was entailed. He was thinking of purchasing it, apparently. Now isn’t that a coincidence?’

  ‘When was this, Grandmamma?’ Emma’s instincts were telling her that this was another piece in the puzzle of Wheatley’s involvement. Francis looked bemused.

  ‘He didn’t mention anything to me. How strange. I’m normally privy to all his business dealings.’

  ‘It was some time after my dear husband’s death.’ The dowager sighed. ‘Word had got out that Charles and his family had disappeared and were feared dead. But of course we were unable to do anything until the courts had made their decision regarding that. It was thought the title was going to die out, that is until Mr Lacey’s solicitor discovered his connection to the family and it became known he would inherit. As it happens, the estate is entailed, so it could not have been sold.’

  Emma watched as her grandmother sipped her tea. Despite her animated demeanour, she looked tired. Her cheeks were pale beneath their discreet application of Circassian Bloom, and her eyes were beginning to look heavy.

  ‘I think it’s time for me to go now, Grandmamma,’ said Emma. ‘I promised Julia that I’d go shopping with her this afternoon.’

  ‘I, too, must leave,’ said Francis. ‘I’m obliged to attend His Grace.’ He turned with a smile to Emma. ‘May I offer you my escort home, cousin?’ With a twinkle, he added, ‘If it would induce you to accept, I should let you know that I’ve brought the curricle that so impressed your brother.’

  Emma giggled. ‘Well, how can I refuse?’

  The dowager slowly rose to her feet and took each of them by the arm.

  ‘I think I’ll retire to my room for a few hours’ rest. It’s been a very exciting day. You will call again soon, won’t you, my boy? We must plan for your launch into society, and yours too, Emma, my dear.’ The old lady’s face beamed despite her tiredness. ‘This is so exciting. I never thought I’d be happy again, but now I’m blessed beyond all expectations –three grandchildren indeed!’ She gave Emma’s hand one final squeeze before releasing it. ‘And we must do more about your wardrobe, Emma dear. I know your cousin Julia has been uncommonly helpful, but I insist that it is a grandmother’s duty to spend on her favourite granddaughter, and I intend to do so.’

  Emma was still chuckling at her grandmother’s words as she and Francis proceeded down the stairs to the hallway where a footman and a maid were waiting to help them on with their outdoor clothes. Emma was feeling a little guilty that the maid who’d accompanied her would have to walk, but to her pleased surprise, Francis, who’d spotted the girl hovering uncertainly in the hallway, gave her some coins to get herself a hackney.

  ‘I’m much obliged to you, Francis. I’m afraid I don’t have any coins with me, so I was unable to give her the fare myself.’

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ said Francis. ‘I’ve had such a wonderful morning, meeting Grandmamma and also spending time with you.’ He leaned in confidentially. ‘You know, I never dreamed that I’d have a real family. It never seemed possible.’

  ‘Well, you have family now, like it or not,’ Emma said, laughing, ‘though I daresay there may be times when you’ll wish us all to Jericho, especially when Jamie pesters you about your horses.’

  On the short drive back to Richard’s townhouse, the two chatted easily, Emma finding Francis to be both a genial companion and a competent horseman. He advised her that Wheatley was graciously willing to grant Richard an audience the following evening.

  ‘He would not prefer a morning appointment?’ she inquired as Francis negotiated his way between a lumbering coal cart and a young dandy driving his high-perch phaeton in the opposite direction at breakneck speed.

  ‘His Grace normally feels a little better at the end of the day during these bouts of illness,’ explained Francis after the two obstacles had been cleared. ‘It’s the time he sets aside for inspecting his estate books or dealing with any other business.’

  ‘And what do you do when you are free of an evening, Francis? Do you attend many social functions?’ Emma was curious to know what interested her cousin.

  ‘No, I don’t go out much in society. His Grace and I usually spend time together. We play chess or read. His Grace is also teaching me to play the piano.’

 
Emma knew she was being too inquisitive, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘You’re very close to him, are you not? And from what you have said, he values you highly.’

  Francis’ features hardened. ‘Yes, he does. His Grace is a very kind and generous man.’ By the set of his mouth, she knew more questions would not be welcomed.

  Some minutes later, they pulled up outside the front door of the townhouse. Francis leapt from the curricle and came round to help her down. The groom, who’d been perched on the back of the vehicle throughout the journey, sprang off to take the reins.

  As he took her hand, Francis sent her an apologetic smile.

  ‘Please forgive my bad mood, Emma. I’m all at sixes and sevens. I’m not accustomed to sharing the details of my life with anyone.’ There was a hint of anxiety in his eyes.

  ‘No wonder you’re a trifle out of sorts; you’ve had the ordeal of Grandmamma’s interrogation earlier.’ Francis chuckled at her choice of words. ‘Will you forgive my prying?’ Emma continued. ‘Jamie always says I ask too many questions, but it’s usually when he doesn’t want me to find out about something.’

  Francis nodded, a wry smile on his face.

  ‘Yes, we all like to think we have our secrets, I’m afraid.’

  Divesting herself of her bonnet and pelisse and handing them over to the waiting footman, Emma was still puzzling at Francis’ cryptic remark when she heard Grimes telling her something about Richard being in his study and wishing to see her.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Grimes, I was wool-gathering. Cousin Richard is in his study, you say?’

  ‘Yes, miss.’

  She hurried off to discover what Richard wanted.

  Richard didn’t hear the tap on the study door. Lost in his thoughts, he sat smiling to himself, his feet propped up on the desk and hands clasped behind his head. He was remembering the kiss he’d enjoyed with Emma in the carriage on the way back from the meeting with Downing. He’d been thinking about it all morning, in fact, and hadn’t been able to settle to any work. Papers littered his desk, and every time his eyes alighted on them he knew Phil would have a fit if he saw it in such an untidy state.

  A discreet cough brought him to his senses, and he saw Emma staring at him from the door. Richard sprang to his feet.

  ‘I’m sorry, Emma. I was miles away. Do come in. I think we need to talk.’ He started to gather up the scattered papers. ‘Not usually this untidy. I don’t know what has come over me this morning.’ He reddened at his blatant lie.

  ‘Shall I come back later?’ she answered, a slight frown on her face as she surveyed the chaos.

  ‘No. Not at all. Please sit here.’ He hurriedly pulled out a chair. ‘It won’t take a moment for me to sort these out.’ He gathered the papers and shoved them to one side. ‘There. All tidy now.’ Even he didn’t believe the two tottering piles of notes and correspondence constituted anyone’s idea of tidy. Never mind, it would do for now, he told himself. He leaned against his desk and crossed his legs. He hadn’t felt this nervous in ages.

  They both spoke at the same time.

  ‘Ladies first.’ Richard gave a weak smile, bracing himself for a tongue-lashing.

  Emma kept her eyes downcast as she spoke in a low voice.

  ‘I wanted to say how sorry I am for my forward behaviour the other evening on the way back from our meeting with Downing. It’s been playing on my mind, you see. I think I was overcome with the excitement of it all and forgot how a true lady should behave.’

  For one moment, he thought he was imagining things. He gaped at her. Why was she apologising to him? This wasn’t right at all.

  ‘No, no. It is I who must apologise to you. I don’t think you were in any way to blame. I don’t know what came over me. You must think me a veritable animal. I can assure you I don’t normally treat young ladies in such a fashion. My offer of marriage still stands if you think you can overlook my poor behaviour.’

  ‘Pardon?'

  ‘Would you still consider my offer of marriage, Emma? I’ve never known anyone like you. You don’t know what you do to me.’ By this time he was on one knee, clasping her hands. He prayed that he hadn’t really burned his bridges with his rakish behaviour.

  She bit her lip. ‘I was concerned you would think me forward, but it seems I’m wrong. Like you, I don’t know what came over me the other day. I only meant to give you a chaste kiss but’ – she cast her eyes down – ‘I don’t know what happened.’

  Richard started to feel optimistic. Would she say yes? His pulse began to race.

  ‘I’m still unsure about marriage,’ she whispered.

  ‘What? With me? There is no need, I can assure you.’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. Even though Grandmamma has explained that all marriages have their ups and downs and that she was sure Mama and Papa really loved each other, how can I be sure that what we feel for each other is love and not just a fleeting infatuation?’ Before he could answer, she went on. ‘We were both in a state of high emotion. How do I know that you won’t grow tired of a woman who speaks her mind?’

  Richard ventured a smile. ‘I’ve decided I would much prefer a wife with a mind and opinions of her own than a milk-and-water miss. I’ve lived a life up to now that has been laden with responsibilities. When Julia left to get married, I thought I’d enjoy a peaceful existence. I thought I needed only a quiet little mouse of a wife who’d run my household and fill my nursery.’ He grasped her hand. ‘But that’s not what I want, Emma. I want someone like you. From the moment you arrived at Easterby Hall, I’ve never known a minute’s peace.’ He grinned at her dismayed expression. ‘But I’ve never felt so alive! And this is no passing fancy. I’m sure we’ll have our ups and downs, but I know that in the end, I can rely on you, Emma, and I promise that you can rely on me. Please say you’ll be my wife and make me the happiest of men.’

  Richard held his breath and waited for her answer.

  Emma stood up and paced to the window. The silence grew. His insides coiled. This wasn’t looking good. At last, Emma turned.

  ‘Not yet. I cannot give you an answer yet.’ She sounded upset. He allowed a glimmer of hope to kindle.

  ‘When?’ For some reason, his throat and mouth were dry.

  ‘When we’ve met with Wheatley. I promise to give you my answer then.’

  Richard forced a smile. ‘Very well.’ He’d do anything to prove himself. But how was he going to protect her? It was unlikely to go as smoothly as their visit to Mrs Newbody’s. Phil was still absent, so who could he trust to offer assistance? Dear Lord, what a fix. With any luck, Wheatley would be unable to see him for some days. Francis had explained that Wheatley was ill. Richard brightened. Given time, he was sure he would think of something.

  ‘Come,’ he said, crooking his elbow. ‘I believe there are some refreshments awaiting us in the dining room. Cook will be most disappointed if we don’t try them.’

  ‘By the way, I forgot to mention,’ Emma said as she took his arm, ‘Francis told me that Wheatley is willing to meet with us tomorrow evening.’

  Ice formed in the pit of his stomach. Hell and damnation! What should he do? He looked down at Emma’s glowing face. Infuriating witch.

  ‘You’ll be the death of me, Emma Smythe,’ he growled. He knew he’d do anything she asked, risk everything for her sake.

  Chapter 20

  Emma woke up the next morning, something nagging at the back of her mind. Wiping the sleep from her bleary eyes, she slowly sat up and peered around. The clock on the mantelpiece showed it was nearly eight o’clock; Polly would be up soon with her hot water. Then it hit her. She and Richard were to meet with Wheatley that evening. Emma swung her legs out of bed. There was no time to be lost. She needed to speak to Richard and discover what he’d come up with to get her inside Wheatley’s townhouse.

  Richard had spoken to her briefly after dinner the
previous evening, giving only the bare details of the arrangements for the planned meeting with the duke. They’d both felt rather awkward with each other after the emotional revelations of the afternoon. She’d hoped the usually perceptive Julia hadn’t noticed. Julia hadn’t commented, but Emma knew nothing much got past her. Emma suspected that she was going to be subjected to some sort of inquisition as soon as Julia got her on her own.

  Emma’s stomach clenched when she saw Julia was already in the breakfast parlour. She’d hoped to avoid a tête-à-tête with her friend for as long as possible.

  Smiling brightly, she said cheerily, ‘Good morning, Julia. You look well. No sickness this morning?’ Sometimes attack was the best form of defence.

  Julia smiled back at her, a shrewd look in her eye.

  ‘Good morning, my dear. I’m not feeling too bad at all, thank goodness. I even fancy a small piece of bread with my egg today.’ Julia set down the knife that she’d been using to butter her bread and regarded Emma from under lowered lashes. ‘You’re looking very, erm, buoyant. Or do I mean excited?’ She gave a little laugh. ‘How are things between you and Richard? I must say, I thought you two were very cool towards one another at dinner.’ She smiled archly before taking a bite from her bread.

  ‘That’s enough, Julia.’

  Richard gave his sister a hard stare as he stalked across to where Emma was standing near the sideboard, about to help herself to some coddled eggs. She’d been struggling to find a suitable retort when the sound of Richard’s voice caused her to freeze. His face softened as he took the plate out of her hand, squeezing her fingers briefly.

  ‘Allow me. You sit down, and I will see to your plate.’

  Emma took a seat across the table from Julia who, unabashed by Richard’s reprimand, was looking smug. ‘I see things are back to normal now between you two.’

  Emma watched as Richard busied himself filling two plates. As usual, he was dressed impeccably with tight-fitting riding breeches and a dark-blue riding jacket. When he’d finished, he came and took the chair next to Emma. She thought how nice it might be to sit this close to him every morning.