by Mary Brendan
‘Did you not check the veracity of what you were told about Simon Gresham’s condition and his demise?’ Lance found it astonishing that neither man would have made full and detailed enquiries of something so crucial.
‘Indeed we did try!’ Bernard snorted, having picked up on a note of criticism. ‘My son wanted to visit Simon to apologise, but Joshua would have none of it. He threatened to have Robin arrested if he again showed his face. I approached Applegate, but he avoided me, too, and directed me to speak to the Greshams as they had banned him from further visits. I even bothered Simon’s wife to beg news.’ Bernard glanced at his chalky-faced daughter. ‘In the circumstances I suppose it was no surprise Veronica would have nothing to do with us.’ He clasped his hands behind him, fidgeting from foot to foot. ‘When I discovered Simon’s death was imminent my only thought was to save my son. Henceforth every second and every penny was spent getting him to France before he was arrested. But now you say my boy had no need to go?’ Bernard fell quiet and his lips commenced trembling as the full force of the sacrifice made and the lost years settled on him.
Emma roused herself from her daze. Pushing herself from her chair, she comforted her weeping father. But as his mounting grief made him stagger, Lance took over, assisting Bernard to the small sofa.
‘Have you any brandy?’
‘No...but there is some port in the study.’ Emma turned to fetch it, but Lance detained her, and produced a silver flask from an inner pocket. He unstoppered it then thrust it into Bernard’s hand and commanded him to take a swig.
Bernard did, spluttered, then took another long swallow of cognac before falling, grey-faced, against the cushions.
Lance straightened up, then led Emma away so they could talk in private.
‘He’s in shock and should rest in bed. You, too, have suffered, Emma,’ he said softly. ‘It is bittersweet news and will take a while to sink in.’
‘I still don’t understand how this can be so,’ Emma argued in a stifled tone. ‘If the wound might have healed...why did Simon perish?’ A small gesture conveyed her anguish and perplexity. ‘Who has told you this, sir? A reliable source?’
Lance nodded. ‘I have it from the people responsible for Simon’s death. I tracked down Dr Applegate and after that I went to see Joshua Gresham. Neither wanted to speak to me, but both eventually confessed to their part in it. The tale that emerged from both parties is similar enough to be taken as truth.’ He paused, scouring his mind for words to minimise the impact of the report. He found none and settled on brevity. ‘Applegate made a mess of extracting the bullet when drunk. He wanted to amputate. At first Simon didn’t consent, then before succumbing to fever changed his mind. His brother wouldn’t allow the operation, saying Simon had agreed when delirious and not of sound mind.’ Lance paused to ascertain how the tale so far was affecting Emma. Her limpid gaze was clinging to his face, indicating she was eager to hear him out. ‘Joshua insisted nature be allowed to take its course and demanded the doctor supply opium as a sedative. When Joshua had the drug he banned the doctor from returning, threatening to sue for negligence if Applegate challenged him. The doctor complied, worried for his reputation and his livelihood...’ Lance tailed off the moment he noticed the silent tears spilling from Emma’s eyes on to her cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He tenderly cupped her wet face. ‘I would have done anything to spare you from this hurt... I should have kept the truth from you.’
‘No...’ She gave him a watery smile, and her small hand covered the gentle fingers comforting her. She tilted her head to their clasped hands, closing her eyes. ‘I owe you my thanks for uncovering who was responsible for what happened.’ She shook her head. ‘The cowards would sooner label my brother a killer than admit to their fault.’
As the anger drained out of her an odd apathy filled the space. She felt as though years of tension and sadness had flowed from her in seconds. ‘It is a tragedy that Simon lost his life needlessly, but equally it is wonderful to learn that my brother, if not completely innocent, can at last come out of the shadows and be reunited with his father.’ She sniffed, turning away to compose herself and to use a hanky on her wet cheeks. ‘Did Joshua blame my brother from vengeance...to get him into trouble?’
‘I think so, and to hide his culpability. Applegate warned him of the likely outcome of an opium overdose.’
‘Joshua surely didn’t administer too much on purpose?’ she whispered, horrified.
‘It’s for a court to decide. My guess is that he’ll plead it was an accident and that he had his brother’s best interests at heart, not wanting him to suffer.’
‘But...you don’t believe that, do you?’ A look of despair darkened Emma’s eyes. ‘They didn’t like one another. Would Joshua have acted from jealousy...because of me? Am I partly to blame?’
Lance placed his hands on her shoulders, drawing her close. ‘None of it is your fault, Emma.’ He tilted up her anguished face so their eyes merged. ‘You’re guilty of no more than youthful indiscretion...as am I.’ He smoothed a dusky tress off her pale forehead. ‘We are alike. And not just in that we have family members driving us to distraction and reputations that don’t bear scrutiny. We were both taken in by deceitful people when too young and inexperienced to spot their lies. But we can’t let what we did then blight the rest of our lives. We deserve to be happy.’
‘Did your family suffer because of your love for Sonia?’
He sighed and half-turned away as though ashamed of what he must tell her. ‘Very much so. I adored my father and until Sonia Peak drove us apart we were extremely close. I begged him not to listen to her lies, or to let her beguile him with her tricks. He chose to ignore me and believe her instead. He died a bitter, broken man.’ He paused. ‘He discovered her cheating and separated from her eventually. I managed to repair bridges between us before he died. But we were never again the friends we had been.’ He hung his head. ‘I torment myself that his ill health was brought on by his association with her. He had always been a strong, healthy man and perhaps would have remained so for many more years had I not brought her into my life and thereby into my father’s.’
‘You cannot know that for certain, Lance. Illness can creep up on a person as they get older, as it has with my father.’ Emma had instinctively used his name and soothed him as he had her, cupping his abrasive jaw.
He turned his face, pressing his lips to her palm. ‘We have both made choices we regret and have paid the price for our past mistakes. Our relations have made their bad choices, too, even when we pleaded with them not to.’ He removed her hands from his face and held them while a deep blue gaze caressed her features. ‘You asked your brother not to get involved in a duel, didn’t you?’
‘I begged him not to meet Simon.’
‘What more could you have done then?’
She gave him a grateful smile.
‘Now we have the future to look forward to,’ Lance said. ‘So, will you allow that scheming woman to continue to spin her lies and cause trouble for me? Or will you listen to what I have to say?’ As though to lure the right response from her he dipped his head, kissing her sweetly, and slipped the top button on her bodice from its hook to sweep a finger softly against her skin.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Emma... I must go to my chamber, my dear, and see to myself. I have drunk rather too much. Help me up, please! I am sunk into the cushions. I must go...quickly...’
The couple, lost in their own world, had forgotten about Bernard until his rude interruption. He had been reclining on the sofa with his eyes closed while regularly upending the brandy flask.
Lance unsealed their mouths and Emma’s lashes flicked up, merging with a warm sapphire gaze. Her cheeks became rosy. How easily he could make her forget where she was and every sense of decorum! She had actually let him kiss her with her father mere yards away. Wriggling free, she sped to Bernard as he continued his attempt
to struggle upright.
‘You are a good boy,’ Mr Waverley slurred, patting the Earl’s sleeve as he came over to lift him to his feet.
Emma bit her lip, her amusement reflected in Lance’s eyes. A thought passed between them that Bernard wouldn’t praise his lordship did he but know what the fellow had had in mind for his daughter. The idea hadn’t left his mind either, Emma realised, as two sultry blue eyes lowered to her gaping bodice. Hastily, she did up a button.
Bernard took a few steps towards the door, then wobbled.
‘I’ll help him upstairs.’ Lance put an arm around the elderly man to support him.
‘He struggles with his clothing,’ Emma blurted, hurrying behind.
‘I can assist him in that, too...’ Lance said wryly. ‘Pity my valet isn’t here...’ A muttered reference to Reeves’s constant fussing emerged.
‘I’ll bring up a glass of cordial. It might help him sober up.’ Emma realised she ought to feel embarrassed that her father had emptied the Earl’s brandy flask and now needed his guest to help him to a chamber pot. But oddly she didn’t. From the moment Lance Harley had entered her life he had dealt with her problems, her family, in a most pragmatic way...and she loved him the more for it, she realised wistfully.
By the time she entered her father’s chamber with the cordial, Lance had helped Bernard with his trouser buttons, settled him on the bed and was removing his shoes. Emma put the glass on the nightstand.
‘Thank you, sir... I can see to him now, if you like,’ she murmured.
‘I don’t mind. It’s no hardship to remove a fellow’s boots for him. I’ve done it for Jack Valance when he’s fallen too far into his cups.’
‘I imagine he has returned you the favour, my lord,’ Emma said impishly.
‘Indeed...on many occasions in my misspent youth...that’s now behind me.’ He gazed at her. ‘I thought we’d done with “sir” and “my lord”. You called me Lance before.’
Emma gave a bashful smile, peering round his broad torso to spy her father, open-mouthed, rumbling a snore. She gestured that they should leave him and closed the door quietly behind them. She would have immediately moved to the head of the stairs, but Lance stopped her, trapping her against the wall.
‘Is that your room?’ He tipped his head at a doorway, a wolfish glint in his eyes.
‘It is, but I’m not inviting you in to it,’ she said firmly and, slipping past him, lightly descended the stairs.
Her heart was thundering when she entered the parlour. There was very different business to attend to now...that concerned just the two of them. And no distraction from it. She was glad things had come to a head...the unremitting pull of magnetism between them was exhausting. She wanted to know what road lay ahead for her as well as for her brother. She heard the door click shut behind and slowly turned, watching him advance. ‘You read my letter, then, and I imagine have no objection to my terms,’ she started off quietly and clearly.
‘What makes you think that?’ he asked.
‘You wanted just now to go to my bedroom...but I will never...beneath my father’s roof...and you accepted that as it is one of my rules...as you would know having read the letter.’ She was rambling, she realised, and fell silent before taking a breath and starting again more composedly. ‘Of course, the house isn’t Papa’s now Joshua Gresham has the deeds. But you understand my meaning, I’m sure.’
‘The house is mine, and, as I have no use for it, Mr Waverley is welcome to have it back. So... I am banned from your bedroom in your father’s house. I understand and accept that rule.’ He gave a slow, studied nod.
‘You must be mistaken,’ Emma burst out. ‘Joshua Gresham owns the house. He said he would never give it up. I believe that to be true. He wanted a hold over us...over me, he said so.’
‘He has no hold over you. And depending on how generous I’m feeling, he might lose his own house, too.’
Emma’s frown deepened as she gazed up at him in disbelief. ‘Are you joking?’
‘No... I told you he lost to me in a card game. I stipulated certain things in payment of the debt or he would be sued. Your father owes him not a penny.’
When she eventually found her tongue she whispered, ‘Why have you done all of this? For me?’
‘Of course, for you. But also because I don’t like bullies or liars...’ His eyes trapped hers. ‘Gresham boasted to me that he had you in his bed.’
‘That’s a lie!’
‘I know...but something went on between you. What did he do?’
As Emma would have swung away, feeling embarrassed, he caught her shoulders, turning her back to him. ‘Please tell me. What did he do, Emma?’
‘He pretended to be our friend...that’s what he did...at first...and like a fool I fell for it. After Simon’s funeral he called to say he wanted no bad feeling between us. He appeared sympathetic and said he was sorry I’d been compromised and that both our families had suffered. He proposed to me. Even when I turned him down he kept up the sham of being our friend.’ She paused. ‘My father took his loans. I’d never really liked him, but up until then I’d had no reason to suspect he might turn nasty. So when he invited me to meet him at Vauxhall to return an IOU my father had pledged at a card table I went. I guessed he might want to renew his proposal...and perhaps kiss me.’
‘Did he rape you?’ Lance’s voice was hoarse and his eyes dark with pain.
‘He was disturbed before he could.’ Emma felt her lips tremble as she spoke of it. She’d not managed to banish from her mind one bit of the fury and fear she’d felt when the brute had tried to rip up her skirt and push her to the ground in that dark walkway. She put a hand to her face. ‘I feel ashamed now...not only of being so gullible, but of acting like the whore he said I was. I guessed he might want to kiss me...and was prepared for that to try to keep my father from the Fleet.’
‘Did he hurt you?’ Lance asked, cupping her face as though it were as delicate as porcelain.
‘He almost had me to the floor, but I kicked and hit him and a couple walking close by heard the commotion and came to investigate. I expect they thought no good of me either.’ She tilted her chin. ‘I don’t care now anyway. I got away and it was just another lesson learned the hard way.’ She gazed into his eyes. ‘So will you take his house? He has a wife and children...’
‘You are too soft-hearted, sweetheart,’ Lance said gently. ‘His wife would have seen you on the streets, as would he.’ He swept a kiss on her brow. ‘You decide his fate, as so often he has decided yours. If you say to me be lenient, then I will. I can deny you nothing. You know that.’ He paused. ‘If he hadn’t been arrested, I would go and see him about this. He was never fit to touch the hem of your skirt. Neither was his brother.’
‘You’ve no need to fight my battles. I can look after myself.’
‘I know...’ He realigned his jaw as he had after she’d slapped him, making her chuckle. ‘But now you don’t need to look after yourself any more.’
‘Will you really return my father his house?’
‘I really will.’
‘Thank you.’ Spontaneously, she went on to tiptoe and placed her soft lips to his hard cheek.
‘You’re welcome,’ he said huskily. ‘So where were we before we got side-tracked? Ah... I recall you were explaining your terms for consummating our love.’
Emma shyly averted her eyes, and occupied herself shifting to and fro the candlestick on the mantel. ‘You already know my terms from reading my letter.’ She paused. ‘Of course, some of those requests aren’t necessary now you have dealt with Robin’s predicament.’ She became quiet as a dark hand appeared in her line of vision and deposited her sealed letter on the mantel.
Emma stared at it, then slowly turned about. ‘I don’t understand...’ And she didn’t. He had made it plain just minutes ago how much he still desired her. He’d spoken of c
onsummating their love.
‘Do you believe what I have told you about Sonia Peak?’
‘Yes.’
‘Will you tell me what she said to you?’
After a moment’s hesitation Emma reeled off, ‘She said I was a novelty and you would soon tire of me and preferred blondes...especially her as she was your first love. I knew she had come to cause trouble and be spiteful. But I felt jealous and angry and that’s why I was cross with you.’
‘I don’t blame you for being cross. She would have been pleased to know she’d succeeded in hurting you and had come between us. None of what she said is true. And you’ll never have cause to be jealous. I swear it.’
‘Is she spiteful to all your mistresses?’
‘No...just to you because she’s guessed how deep are my feelings for you.’
Lance came closer until just inches separated them. He braced an arm on the mantel. ‘I’ve been feeling jealous, too, Emma.’
‘You had no need to be. I told you from the start I hated Joshua.’
‘He’s never bothered me. I worried you might be unable to give your heart again because you were still in love with a dead man.’
‘Well, I’m not,’ Emma said firmly. ‘I’m not sure I ever was in love with Simon. Infatuated, perhaps.’ A nostalgic smile touched her lips. ‘That year we met, my debut passed in a whirl, so much excitement...balls and parties...new friends. I thought it was the best time of my life...’ She tailed off.
‘And a few months later all the happiness was gone.’
‘Yes...’ She ached with the poignancy of it. Then blinked the memories away and gave him a smile. ‘But enough of that. You have no need to be jealous, sir... Lance,’ she corrected herself with a tiny apologetic nod. ‘I will not forget Simon...how could I? And neither, I imagine, will you forget Sonia Peak.’
‘I won’t if you keep mentioning her,’ he said ironically.
Emma tutted and rolled her eyes, feeling glad that they could tease one another. Just a short while ago it would have seemed impossible for them to be friends. Now she felt she might be able to tell him anything...ask him anything...confide in him her troubles. ‘Will you now open my letter? My rules are not stringent...discretion to protect my father, of course, because I don’t want him to know...although spiteful people have a way of finding things out—’