“Mr. Hallsworth, good afternoon. You’re looking well.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she bit her tongue. She hadn’t meant to say that.
“As are you, my lady,” he said. “I hope your work is going well, and the ladies you’ve taken under your wing—how do they fare?”
It warmed her heart to hear him ask. It always warmed her heart to have him near her. But she would remain cool and professional. That was who she was now.
“The ladies are well,” she answered. She couldn’t help smiling. “And we’ve just had some brilliant news. I’ve set a new plan in motion...” She caught herself. They no longer shared such confidences. Still, she couldn’t help asking about his work. “I understand improvements are well underway at the factory Grayhall Shipping has acquired.”
“Going more slowly than I’d hoped, but I think we’ll have much to show for it soon. We might...” He shook his head, perhaps coming to the same realization she had, that they no longer had a right to share so much with each other. “I beg your pardon, Lady Emme. I don’t mean to take up so much of your time, but as I said, I need your help.”
“I’m afraid I have no idea how I can be of help to you,” she said.
Daniel watched her with those fathomless eyes as he handed her an envelope. It was the second official-looking missive she’d received in the last ten minutes. It didn’t escape her notice that he took care not to brush his finger against hers as she took the letter from him. It was from the House of Lords.
“Read it, please,” he said. “You, too, Meriden, so you’ll know I have no nefarious intentions toward your sister.”
Emme pulled out the letter and skimmed it, then handed it to her brother. “Mr. Hallsworth, while I appreciate the urgency of this matter, I’m as much at a loss as I was a minute ago. How can I be of any help to you?”
Her heart pounded with dread, fear, and something else she didn’t want to name, but she recognized just the same. Desire.
“As you’ve gathered from Mr. Alby’s letter, I’m in need of finding a wife post haste.” He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “And as insincere as I might have been in my efforts to court other ladies in the past, it appears I now need to make an honest effort of it.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. It felt as if the entire world had shrunk down to just the two of them. “As I recall, there were several interested young ladies. Surely any one of them would be happy to receive your attentions. Perhaps even a blonde or two.”
One corner of his mouth quirked up. “She needn’t be blonde. Just kind.” He frowned. “And she’ll need to be from an impeccable family, and...”
“And above reproach,” Emme finished for him when he couldn’t seem to bring himself to say it. It was the one thing she couldn’t give him: a sterling, unassailable reputation. The familiar sensation of a knife stuck in her gut came back to her.
“It seems I’ve made a mess of things this past week or so,” he continued, “turning down invitations, disappointing some of the more important hostesses. The duchess will do what she can to smooth the ruffled feathers, but she’s busy with many things.”
“Hallsworth, you can’t ask this of my sister.” Edward took Emme’s arm.
“No, it’s all right.” She laid her hand over her brother’s. She owed Daniel this much for the heartbreak she’d caused him, for the unforgivable sin she’d committed that now stood in the way of their happiness together. “There’s an opera performance at Covent Garden on Thursday evening. My mother has insisted we attend. Everyone who’s anyone will be there. I can think of at least three young ladies and their mothers who would be thrilled to see you there. We’d be happy to make reintroductions.”
It would be hell on earth to see him in his evening finery and not be able to run her hands up under his lapels and tilt her head up for his kiss. Yet she wanted to see him again as he’d looked on the night he’d joined her in her cabin on the SS Lizette for their private dinner. She longed to see him in the same black tailcoat he’d worn the night he’d taken her home from the train station. That wonderful, fateful, too-brief night.
She cast her eyes on the sidewalk under her feet and took a deep, fortifying breath.
Edward began to repeat his objections, but when she squeezed his arm, he sighed. “Fine, Hallsworth. You’ll sit in our family box, of course.”
“That sounds charming,” Daniel said. “Which opera?”
Emme hesitated, her stomach twisting into knots. “Smetana’s The Bartered Bride,” she finally answered.
The three of them fell silent and exchanged uncomfortable glances.
It was Daniel who broke the saturnine mood. He touched the brim of his hat again. “Thank you. I’m obliged to you both.”
He was polite. Kind and polite, and so distant that he was now beyond her reach.
Edward helped Emme into the carriage and exchanged one last look with Daniel, then climbed up behind her. As the carriage lurched forward, her brother laid his hand on top of hers on the seat, and Luci and Tessa chatted amiably about the perfection of the storefront and the lovely spring weather and the luncheon they’d soon share.
Emme smiled and nodded when it seemed appropriate, but she couldn’t follow the details of what they were saying. The knife in her gut had been pulled out, leaving a gaping, bleeding wound in its wake. But even with the lifeblood draining out of her, she would smile, as her parents always told her to do. She would put aside her heartbreak, just as Edward had intimated she should. She would help as many women as she could in a way that would make Eleanor proud.
And she would give up every hopelessly romantic dream she’d ever had about being with the man she loved.
* * *
Daniel watched the carriage until it turned down the next street, taking with it every dream of happiness he’d ever had. His life would now be filled with obligation—to a wife, to the title she’d help him secure, to the children they’d have together—in lieu of happiness. He would put out of his mind how lovely Emme had looked today, wearing a pale-yellow skirt and matching jacket, a crisp white blouse tied into a bow at her neck, and a cream-colored hat with the ribbon matched to her dress.
When had he last seen her in yellow, or in any color other than those of mourning or dark forests? He couldn’t recall. But it wasn’t just bright colors that gave her a different appearance. She looked pale and sad, and her eyes belied a longing that resonated in the core of his being.
As happy as he’d been just to stand near her on the street for a few minutes in time, he’d also felt monstrous for making his request of her. If there’d been any other way to meet the demands of the Committee for Privileges, if the duchess hadn’t been so overwhelmed with her social duties and obligations, if there’d been another upstanding family to take up his cause...but he’d had nowhere else to turn.
Through it all, though, Emme had carried herself with an air of self-possession, of purpose. She was resigned to their decision and their fates, which would now and forever diverge.
With his heart in his throat, he finally took one step forward, then another, then a few more, until he found himself stopped again, this time in front of the building from which Emme had emerged. He was surprised it was empty. What could she and her companions have been doing in the deserted shop? It didn’t matter. Or at least it shouldn’t. How she spent her time was none of his concern.
Seeing movement through the large glass window, he pulled open the front door and stepped into the small, neat space set up for commerce. He stopped beside the empty shelves to his right, sure he caught a hint of Emme’s lavender scent.
“May I be of service to you, m’lord?”
Daniel turned to see a small, weasel-like man with a ridiculously unfashionable mustache, wearing a decently cut but ordinary suit without the jacket. Now his curiosity was piqued, indeed. “Are you the owner of this establishment?”
“Yes, m’lord, of this entire building. Storefront and offices below,
rooms for rent above.”
“I see.” Daniel took off his hat and gloves as he took in the details of the small, barren shop. “Then yes, I should say you may be of service to me. The gentleman and the ladies who just left—why were they here? Tell me everything you know about them.”
But he didn’t really care what the man could tell him about them. He only wanted to know about her. In that moment, he caught a glimpse of his future and how long and lonely it would be, despite the companionship of a wife. Because no matter who else was in his life, it would always be about Emme.
Chapter 17
Just days after he’d asked the woman he loved to help him find a wife, Daniel arrived at the Royal Opera House. He spotted his companions for the evening waiting for him in the lobby, in the exact spot where Emme’s handwritten note had said they’d be. Before he joined them, Daniel took a moment to become acclimated to the crush of well-dressed, perfumed, and bejeweled attendees. Despite the rebuilt structure being less than two decades old, the space was quintessential Old England, and the people who crowded into it were the epitome of British imperialism.
He would have turned tail and run if Emme hadn’t caught his eye.
He didn’t hold her gaze as he made his way to her side, focusing instead on uttering pleasantries as he weaved his way through the crowd. But the weight of her stare lay over him as he approached. Her mother, brother, and aunt had yet to notice him as he came upon her, giving them a moment to take in the sight of each other.
Tonight, she was wearing more bright colors, this time a gown with a light green skirt and darker green lace bodice. Her upswept auburn hair, her pale skin, her green eyes, her lips were all impossibly luminous. The world around them grew dim and muffled as he stared into her eyes and she stared back, a slight smile lifting the edges of her lips.
“Your coat,” she said in a near whisper. “You wore it the night of the duke’s soiree.”
“Yes. The night of King’s Cross Station.” The night of everything that had happened after he’d found her there. Everything he’d hoped she would remember when she saw him in the tailcoat. Everything he tried to forget every night as he lay alone in his bed, knowing she would never be there with him again.
“Ah, there he is.” Meriden’s voice broke the spell.
He gathered his wits as quickly as he could and shook Meriden’s hand, then exchanged greetings and pleasantries with Emme’s mother and aunt, both of whom watched him too keenly for his liking.
When he looked at Emme again, she still smiled, but it wasn’t the same. Now it was forced.
“It should be a lovely night,” she told him. “So many blonde young ladies about, and more than a few have noticed you already.”
“Have they?” he asked, truly surprised.
He never heard her answer, for a bell rang announcing the impending start of the performance. Before her brother could come to claim her, Daniel held out his arm to Emme. She took it.
“You risk giving the eligible ladies the wrong impression,” she said as the took their place in the long line queuing up to enter the theater.
“Do I?” He knew very well she was right, and knew he should care, but he couldn’t rally the feeling just now when he had the chance to stand arm in arm with the woman he truly wanted. But so close to her, he could see her face was pale and her eyes were tired. “Are you feeling all right, my lady? You don’t look quite yourself.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine.” But her voice sounded hoarse. “We’ve been busy, working out the details of my next venture with the Spinsters’ Club. Well, not exactly with the club.”
“It appears it will take a few minutes to reach our seats, and I’ve yet to hear about this venture, if you’d care to share it.”
She didn’t bounce or roll forward on her toes or beam up at him. It was quite worrying.
“It’s at a bit of a standstill at the moment,” she said. “I’d hoped—with Edward’s help—to rent a storefront to open a mercantile to sell the goods made by some of the women with artistic skills who receive assistance from the spinsters. The club doesn’t want to back such a venture. Not respectable enough, I suppose.”
“Quite brilliant, though,” Daniel said. He’d pieced together the gist of it from the landlord’s less than flattering description of the lady’s business in his shop, but it was lovely to hear it from her own lips.
“Do you think?” She brightened for the first time all evening. “Negotiations with the landlord have broken down, but we’re hopeful to get it all straightened out soon.”
He wanted more than anything in that moment to tell her why her negotiations had stalled, but Emme was right—there would be a stigma attached to anyone who invested in the mercantile. With his new-found respectability, he couldn’t risk such notoriety. But he could anonymously buy the building and turn it over to Emme for her purposes.
“I’m sure it will all work out very soon,” he told her. “Business matters can take time.”
“Still, it’s difficult.” She smiled, making his heart flutter like a schoolboy’s. “I remember you mentioning that reforms weren’t being implemented in your factory as quickly as you would have liked.”
“That’s true,” he said. His heart sank as they inched closer to the box seats and he knew he’d have to stop touching her soon. “It’s still moving too slowly, but we’re making progress. And I might soon have an opportunity to offer some labor improvements to our dock workers. We’re considering starting a transatlantic line, which would mean more ships, more cargo, and more longshoremen.”
“Oh!” Emme bounced forward on her toes for the first time all evening. “You could have a labor union organizer come speak with them.”
He grinned. “Perhaps I should hire the workers before I suggest they bring in someone to help them negotiate against me.”
She was about to say something, but Meriden turned back to look at them as he led them into the family’s box.
“Emme, you’ll sit beside Mother,” her brother told her.
In short order, it became clear that Meriden planned to keep Emme and Daniel as far as possible from each other, with Emme beside her mother, who sat beside her aunt. Meriden sat beside his aunt, with Daniel flanking the party on the side opposite Emme. The Radcliffes would entertain him in their box, but if anyone had mistakenly assumed he was courting Lady Emmeline, their seating arrangement would do much to quell the notion. The arrangement made sense for advertising his availability to other marriageable ladies and their chaperones, but still it stung. He remained an outsider among them, relegated to the shadows in the corner.
After the house lights dimmed, his seat did offer one great advantage: his ability to watch Emme out of the corner of his eye without being detected. If she felt his gaze on her, she hid it well. She focused on the performers, clapped enthusiastically at the end of each aria, and nodded her agreement each time her mother whispered something to her.
At least, Daniel had thought his vantage point a blessing, until he realized each minute spent so close to her, while unable to touch or hear or speak to her, felt like an hour. The singers might have been quite pleasing, but their voices scraped along his raw nerve endings and left him with a raging headache before they were even halfway to the interval. When that blissful break arrived and the house lights came up, the brightness stabbed his sensitive eyes. But he smiled through the pain because, just as Emme had predicted, every important member of the ton was in attendance, and most of their eyes were upon him, the imposter in their midst.
Emme’s aunt chose to stay in the box during the interval, so Meriden offered his arm to Emme—once again preempting any rumors of Daniel courting her—and the countess took Daniel’s proffered arm. Back in the lobby and once more caught in the crushing crowd, his fear of being ostracized was quickly allayed. The irreproachable countess and her charming children drew an endless stream of admirers, each introduced to Daniel, none audacious enough to so much as glance sidelong a
t him while he was in the Radcliffes’ care.
The family was so solicitous, it was possible the seating arrangement had been a coincidence, or a means of ensuring Daniel appeared to be the available bachelor he was. Being in the midst of their camaraderie and standing close enough to Emme to hear her voice as she chatted, eased the tension in his head. He was almost comfortable here among the peers.
A movement to his left caught his attention. As he glanced at a woman who looked familiar and a younger one who did not, both of whom were making their way toward his small group, Emme took a step closer to him.
“Countess Bower,” she said softly.
“Now I recall her,” he said. “She was a friend of my mother’s. A very nice lady.”
“Matriarch of a very upstanding family,” Emme said. “And if I’m not mistaken, the pretty blonde with her is Lady Anastasia, her daughter who just returned from a long visit in Vienna.”
“Lady Ana?” Daniel widened his eyes.
The last time he’d seen the girl, she truly had been just a girl. She hadn’t even had her debut yet. Now she was tall and shapely, with a pretty smile that she flashed at him when she caught his eye, followed by a blush.
The young lady and her mother were on a mission, and unless he was more out of practice with the machinations of British society than he thought, he was their quest.
* * *
Emme’s jaw ached from maintaining her forced smile through this disastrous evening. But that didn’t begin to touch the pain in her head from the dreadful day she’d had. After learning the Billings girl and Carter boys had taken ill during her visit with their mothers that morning, dealing with one of Edward’s rare foul moods that afternoon, and being in excruciating close proximity to her former lover all evening, she was exhausted.
And now the kind Countess Bower and her lovely daughter Lady Anastasia had made a beeline for the man Emme loved. Used to love. Would probably always love but could never have. If she had been capable of it, she would have burst into tears.
One Kiss From Ruin: Harrow’s Finest Five Book 1 Page 19