by Mary Brendan
As the Earl was out of town he couldn’t shed any light on it even had his lordship felt inclined to break his rule never to discuss his business. Bernard was also keeping tight-lipped, although he hadn’t denied Houndsmere’s recent visit. Oddly, he hadn’t boasted of it either as people had expected him to do.
Joshua had attempted to engage him in conversation earlier, but the older man had been evasive and had scuttled off. Joshua wasn’t giving up yet on having some answers, though. He lounged back in his wingchair, sipping port. The game of cards he’d been observing from his comfy spot in his club was coming to an end. As usual the solitary sovereign left to Waverley wasn’t returned to his pocket, it was flipped to join all the others he’d staked in an attempt to win the pot. To no avail, as it turned out. The young buck sitting opposite triumphantly threw down his cards face up; his other hand dredged the table of a small fortune, pulling it close to his chest.
Seizing his opportunity, Joshua pushed himself out of his armchair. His quarry was looking vulnerable, sitting alone at the table as the gamesters disbanded to seek other diversion.
The moment Bernard noticed who was in the process of pulling up a chair he attempted to rise from his to escape. Joshua tugged on his sleeve, making him sit back down.
‘I’m not chasing my money, Waverley, although I am conscious that my interest payment is long overdue,’ he added craftily.
Bernard sighed in relief at the reprieve. He didn’t like or trust Joshua Gresham, but had to allow that the man had shown patience. Other creditors had embarrassed him by commandeering his furniture in front of the neighbours.
‘I could forward you another small amount if it would help.’ Joshua sounded full of concern.
Bernard brightened.
‘But I expect your new friend has taken care of that side of things for you.’ Joshua slyly withdrew the offer.
‘My new friend?’ Bernard echoed, looking mystified.
‘Why, everybody knows that Houndsmere has called on you, Waverley. You probably have no further need of my paltry assistance with such as he backing you.’
‘No...he...it is not that. He has offered me no financial help.’ Bernard shot to his feet. ‘I must get on my way... I have an appointment.’ He pushed through the throng, being paid little heed. His friend, Roland Sanders, detached from the crowd and accompanied him outside.
‘I saw Gresham stalking you. After his money, is he?’ Roland sounded sympathetic as they strolled along the street towards home. Usually, the friends remained at their club until dinner time, but Bernard didn’t want to risk further interrogation. He knew that Gresham wasn’t the only fellow keen to discover how he had got the Earl on his side. The galling thing was, he hadn’t. Houndsmere hadn’t visited for a good reason. Rather than being able to crow about having made the acquaintance of an aristocrat, he must try to cover it up.
‘Joshua’s asking questions about Houndsmere.’ Bernard glanced over a shoulder as though believing he might be pursued. ‘I know I sound like an ingrate, but I wish that fellow hadn’t brought my daughter home.’ He tutted in exasperation. ‘Trouble will ensue if Houndsmere takes too much interest in our affairs.’
‘Why would he do that?’ Roland sounded bewildered.
Bernard shrugged. ‘I just feel he will. Emma told me he called again a few days ago...simply from courtesy to see that she’d suffered no ill effects from being set upon.’ He shook his head glumly. ‘I think there is more to it. He suspects something and is keen to get to the bottom of it. He sits on the magistrate’s bench, you know.’ Inwardly, he shuddered at the idea of a man of the law scenting a fugitive close by. ‘He must never discover that Emma got into trouble that night on her brother’s account. Houndsmere could put a noose round Robin’s neck.’
‘You wouldn’t want Gresham getting wind of your boy’s return either. I recall Emma turned down his marriage proposal.’ Roland paused. ‘He acts amiable, but I’m not sure he is to be trusted.’
‘Gresham is to be trusted to want a profit!’ Bernard trumpeted, rubbing together thumb and finger. ‘He charges more interest than the veriest usurer. Little wonder he pretends to be my friend and lets me keep his money for so long. I am making the confounded skinflint rich.’ Bernard tapped his nose. ‘I haven’t forgotten that bad blood exists between us.’
‘I wish I was in a position to help you, then you’d not need to turn to him,’ Roland said.
Bernard patted his friend on the shoulder in appreciation of the sentiment. Roland had chosen to propose to a rich widow to keep the wolf from his own door. It had occurred to Bernard to follow his friend’s lead and find himself a lady with a healthy bank balance. Unfortunately, with a scandal dragging him down and no invitations to socialise adorning the mantelpiece, meeting a kindly soul who might overlook his faults was nigh on impossible. Besides, he knew he’d never feel again the love he’d had for the mother of his twins. Sarah had lost her life bringing those two cherubs into the world. At her graveside her tearful husband had vowed to do his utmost to be a good parent and a man she would have been proud of. In the years since he’d berated himself for having failed to live up to that boast. Both of his children had lost their way without their mother’s guidance. Neither had he been a credit to her memory, gambling too much and making hasty, ill-thought-out decisions. One of which was even now pricking at his conscience.
‘You are a good fellow, Roland. But you will keep all of this business with Robin under your hat, won’t you? I swore my daughter to secrecy on it and shouldn’t really have blabbed...but how could I keep to myself such wonderful tidings? Impossible!’
‘You haven’t blabbed!’ Roland sounded a tad miffed. ‘You have confided in me...your trusted friend.’
Bernard issued a mollifying smile. ‘Indeed. And if you can come up with a solution to how I might engage a top lawyer to act for my boy who will take payment in shirt buttons instead of coin, I’ll be pleased to hear of it.’
‘Put me thinking cap on,’ Roland answered drolly.
‘You know, when Emma told me she’d discovered that her rescuer was an earl I believed her to be pulling my leg at first.’
‘Understandable,’ Roland rumbled. ‘Hardly the sort of neighbourhood you’d expect a peer of the realm to haunt.’
‘Unless you knew a bit about the rogue,’ Bernard returned darkly. ‘Emma tells me he was ever the gentleman with her, though. So I’ve no complaints.’
‘He is too well served by the petticoat set to have a flirtation to spare, I imagine.’ Roland’s observation elicited a sniff of indignation. ‘Your Emma’s a beauty, but pleasingly modest, too, despite what she’s endured,’ he hastened on. ‘Rakes like Harley aren’t attracted to virtuous ladies until they’re ready to set up a nursery.’ Before he dug himself into a deeper hole he changed tack. ‘I recall there was quite a to-do when the old Earl married for the second time. The scheming hussy was one of his son’s cast-offs! The Houndsmeres have long been a scandalous lot. Descended from privateers, so I believe.’
Bernard knew his friend meant no ill by implying Emma was outside the Earl’s sphere of interest. He knew it himself and as her father it actually gave him a certain amount of peace of mind. Houndsmere wouldn’t be denied anything he wanted. Bernard knew he wasn’t up to taking on such a powerful adversary. He hadn’t even been able to best the fellow when Harley had been unarmed and he had been in possession of a gun to point at his handsome head.
‘Last week I took Mrs Booth to the opera and Houndsmere was there with his chums.’ Roland was enjoying having a gossip. ‘Quite a stir he caused during the interval when the soprano left the stage and joined him in his box. My fiancée was mightily entertained in observing all the green eyes turning their way.’
‘Fine figure of a man,’ Bernard allowed. ‘Though Emma seems immune to him, thank heavens. She was as relieved as me to see the back of the fellow.’
&nb
sp; ‘Our girls are as pretty and pleasing as any of those out this year,’ Roland proudly announced. ‘But it’s a deuce of a job settling daughters once they’re the wrong side of twenty-four and their portions are gone. I shall set aside a sum from my fiancée’s dowry for Dawn. I’d like to see her with a husband and family before she gets too much older.’
‘I’m happy to have my Emma at home,’ Bernard replied, feeling guilty that he had no rich widow to fall back on. ‘I wouldn’t want her married for convenience. She deserves another chance at happiness. It wasn’t her fault she gave her heart unwisely and was cheated of her best years by a scoundrel—’ Bernard was brought to a halt by a nudge in the ribs.
‘I say...ain’t that the Earl’s carriage?’ Roland jerked a nod to a crested travelling coach pulled by a set of matched greys. It was proceeding at quite a crack along the street. ‘He wasn’t out of town long, then.’
Bernard forgot about his aching leg and put on a spurt. If Houndsmere was heading towards Primrose Square, he wanted to be home to greet him this time and find out what the fellow was after.
* * *
‘The Earl hasn’t called, Papa. What made you think he might have been here?’
‘Oh, nothing...’ Mr Waverley clasped his hands behind his back and ambled to the window to gaze out as though believing Houndsmere might yet put in an appearance.
Emma could sense his uneasiness and that put her on edge. Had her father discovered that a member of Houndsmere’s family was entangled in their lives to an alarming degree? Worse still, had the Earl discovered that his stepsister and her brother were lovers? A shiver undulated along her limbs at the thought of how justifiably livid Lance Harley was sure to be. Augusta might have sprung from lowly stock—a milliner’s daughter, she recalled Robin had said—but the girl would have been expected to make a good match once the late Earl of Houndsmere became her stepfather.
She wished now she’d told her papa straight away about her meeting with Robin earlier in the week. But she hadn’t wanted to speak about it without first giving it careful thought. Robin was desperate for assistance and Emma wouldn’t put it past him to exaggerate his plight to secure the money he wanted. She believed he’d fallen in love with Augusta, but as for the expected child...had he dreamt that up to pluck at her father’s heartstrings? Hers, too. She loved the idea of being an aunt. But if the couple went ahead and married in secret, what then? The marriage might be annulled and the child whipped away somewhere and never allowed to know its wicked father’s family. Rich and powerful people were adept at dissolving mésalliances and hushing up scandals.
‘I expect the Earl has grown bored with us.’ Bernard turned from the window, sighing. ‘A relief to know it, of course,’ he said, but with little conviction. ‘I wish I could forget all about the man, Emma. But I cannot stop dwelling on how sweet life could be if circumstances were different and we could foster an acquaintance with him.’
How well Lance Harley knew her father!
‘You’re in trouble, my dear, and could do with making friends, not enemies. I imagine your father will see the sense in that even if you do not.’
His words came back to mock her. Indeed, her father would adore having a social connection to the Earl. But Houndsmere didn’t know the whole story. When he did...as he surely would...he might grind the Waverleys beneath his shoe in restoring his stepsister’s reputation.
Emma knew there was a way of destroying her father’s dream of a sweet life as he’d called his yen for a friendship with Lance Harley. And do it she must, for confessing to another meeting with Robin was long overdue. Her father would desire keeping a great distance from Houndsmere once he knew the nature of this new calamity.
‘There is something I must tell you, Papa. When I was out shopping with Dawn in Regent Street I saw—’
A sudden bang on the door interrupted her.
Bernard immediately hobbled to the window, anticipation lifting his brow. He hoped to spy a smart conveyance fit for an aristocrat parked at the kerb. He was disappointed. A plain hackney cab was just heading off.
A moment later Emma’s friend was shown into the parlour by Cathleen O’Reilly.
‘Shall I be making a pot of tea, Miss Waverley?’ the servant asked.
‘Thank you, Mrs O’Reilly.’ Emma clasped her friend’s hands, happy to see her again so soon after their excursion earlier in the week. ‘This is a lovely surprise, but a bit late in the day for a shopping trip.’
‘Is all well with your papa, my dear? I only quit his company about an hour since.’ Bernard also realised it was an odd visit at this time of the day.
‘He is very well, thank you, sir.’ Dawn smiled broadly.
‘I’ll leave you two young ladies to your chat. Oh, what had you to tell me, Emma, about bumping into somebody on Regent Street?’
‘We can speak of it later, Papa,’ Emma quickly replied.
‘Have I turned up at an inopportune moment?’ Dawn pulled an apologetic face as the door was closed behind Mr Waverley. ‘You were going to tell him about Veronica Gresham being a cat, weren’t you?’
‘Indeed I was not! I wouldn’t worry Papa on her account.’ Emma drew her friend towards the sofa, keen to change the subject. ‘Now, sit down and tell me what’s happened. I can see you’ve something on your mind that won’t wait.’
‘I have.’ Dawn sounded excited. She opened her reticule and drew forth a parchment. ‘I’ve something to show you and I want you to tell me I’m not dreaming and we really have a fine opportunity to go out somewhere nice.’
‘We?’ Emma took the gilt-edged card and scanned the elegant script that invited Dawn and a friend to take tea at Mrs Sweet’s in Belgravia.
‘Mrs Sweet? I’m not sure I know of her. Of course, if you’d like me to come I will,’ Emma said bravely. She wanted to show support, but her mind had already flown to the practicalities. Her clothes were shabby. She hadn’t had a new gown in ages. There had been no point in going to the expense when she was never invited anywhere. ‘Would you not rather go with Mrs Booth, though?’
‘Julia would certainly like to accompany me, she’s made that plain,’ Dawn said. ‘She’s taken credit for me having received an invitation at all, hinting she’s elevating us by marrying Papa.’ Dawn rolled her eyes in disgust. ‘I want you to come with me.’ She squeezed her friend’s fingers. ‘It is a perfect opportunity for you to slip back into society.’
Emma wistfully wished it could be that easy. She often dwelled on her salad days of parties and balls, gaiety and laughter, often with Dawn by her side. Then fate turned against the Waverleys. Now she feared that her unwelcome presence at a gathering could blight Dawn’s acceptance, too, making them both feel miserable. ‘It could reflect badly on you if I go.’
‘You’re my best friend and will always be so,’ Dawn replied stoutly. ‘If Mrs Sweet didn’t already know that, then she should have taken more care with her guest list. We might have a nice time, Em. And if we don’t, then we can take our leave early. I’m not bothered if I never get another invitation out of it.’
Emma gave her friend an affectionate hug for her loyalty. ‘Do you know Mrs Sweet? Is she nice?’ she asked, her voice husky with pleasure.
‘Mrs Booth admits she has never been introduced to her, but has heard that the woman is pleasant and popular. Julia claims to be top notch, but actually her circle is mediocre. I’m certain she knows little of Mrs Sweet...other than she is an aristocrat’s daughter who married beneath her, for love.’
‘Well, she sounds very nice in that case,’ Emma said.
‘That is settled then.’ Dawn gained her feet before her friend could change her mind. ‘Now I must go. Papa wants to dine early as he and Julia are going to the theatre. He has said he will drive us himself in his gig to the party. I believe he is as excited as I am about this.’
Having waved to her friend, Emma closed th
e door, wondering how her father would take the news. With all this business with Robin swirling about them the unexpected chance to make new friends had come at completely the wrong time.
‘Shall I be drinking this meself, then, miss?’ Cathleen asked with a pointed rattle of crockery.
Emma smiled apologetically and took the tea tray from the woman. ‘Thank you, Mrs O’Reilly. My friend could not stop after all, but I shall have some tea and I expect Mr Waverley might like a cup, too.’
Cathleen went off with a sniff and Emma headed towards her father’s study. She doubted that a nice cup of tea would make more palatable the news she’d yet to break to him. Neither would knowing that his daughter had been invited to socialise for the first time in years.
* * *
As she’d suspected, the news about her invitation seemed to barely register with her father once she’d confessed to her last meeting with Robin.
Bernard stomped to and fro, then flung himself down in his chair and rested his head in his hands. For a moment it had seemed he might weep his voice became so croaky. Emma sped around the desk to embrace his quivering shoulders.
‘There is no need for despair, Papa. You said earlier in the week that the Earl is out of town so there is yet time to try to talk sense into Robin. He must send Augusta home.’
‘Houndsmere is back. I saw his carriage go past...at a rackety pace, too, as though he indeed had something urgent to do.’
Emma felt her stomach somersault at that information. Had he been racing to find his stepsister?
‘I must quickly find a way to get some money to help Robin. A move to the countryside is what he needs. A place where nobody will know him. Oh, why couldn’t he have just kept company with a doxy as he usually does?’